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emberfrostlovesloki · 6 months

Text

Demons [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left and Right (Google) Center (@hotchs-big-hands [my beloved])

Prompt: The team is forced into very close quarters during a case on an offshore oil rig in Alaska. It’s bitterly cold and there’s nowhere to go, and three men have been beaten and stabbed to death. The team must solve the mystery before it’s too late. A mix-up in rooms also has Aaron and the reader closer than ever. It allows him to learn something new about her.

Category: Angst/comfort

Word Count: 15.6K

Content Warnings: Sleep paralysis, canon typical violence, death (of a victim and unsub), beating (with a blunt object), choking (briefly described), mention of death by stabbing, the threat of death by knife/gun, mention of drowning (unsub), mention of abuse (in the past [Hotch]), slight mention of blood, language, hospitals, slight body image issues (Hotch). Please let me know if I missed any.

A/N: Ahhhh, hi loves. Did anyone ask for something this long? No. Did I expect to write this much? No. But the scenes kept coming, and I kept writing them down. I just love the writing process. It’s so cool. But enough of that. This story’s mostly based on a northern gothic vibe and the age-old, ‘only one bed’ trope. I am very happy with how this turned out and I hope you all like it too. You could read this as a stand-alone or as a prequel to my story, Unwanted Attention (linked). A huge thank you to my top hype woman @sadgirlzluvdilfs (ILY) If you like this story as well, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you all have a great Friday night! - Love Levi.

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_y/n_ = your name

_y/e/c_ = your eye color

Hotch got a call from Strauss in his office. He had hoped that Monday would be a quiet work day for himself and the team. He was currently drowning in paperwork, and as he glanced down at the bullpen. He could see his team trying to do their best to also catch up on the more clerical side of their jobs as FBI agents. Strauss had told him to meet her in her office immediately. He replied, “Yes, Ma’am. I’m on my way.” He hung up the phone, grabbed his shoulder bag, and moved toward the elevator. It was a short ride up to the twentieth floor of their building, and Aaron wondered what he should prepare for when he arrived at Struas’s office. He walked down the long hallway and knocked twice on his boss’s door before opening it. Aaron was not expecting to see The Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, Frank Ridgewell, seated across from Strauss. Both the Commissioner and Strauss stood when he entered her office. Erin gestured to Ridgewell and said, “Agent Hotchner, I’m sure you know Commissioner Ridgewell.” Aaron nodded. He had never met the man in person before, but he was aware of who he was, and how important he was to the United States. Aaron extended a hand and Mr. Ridgewell took it, giving it a firm shake. Once the quick introduction was done, Strauss said, “Let’s all have a seat.” From Erin’s tone, whatever was happening here was important. Strauss indicated to the other man in the room, and Frank turned toward Aaron asking, “Are you aware of the new offshore drilling operation in Alaska?” Hotch furrowed his brow and replied, “Only tangentially. I understand that the rig was built quickly and there was a land dispute. I’m also aware that there were environmental protests over beginning new drilling so close to a naturally preserved site.” Ridgewell nodded and said, “You’re correct. As of three months ago, the oil rig has been fully operational. The rig employs sixty-seven people in total. Fourty-four of those individuals are employed part-time or have shift work on the operation. The other twenty-three are full-time employees that work one month on-site and three weeks off.” Aaron had his legal pad out and was taking a few notes as the Commissioner spoke. He was waiting for the important information with a bit of impatience. This had to be important if it wasn’t coming from JJ. If it was coming from the top, he needed to be meticulous in his work and the various details being thrown at him.

After another minute of the smaller details about the rig and its crew. Ridgewell’s tone changed. The man said, “Well all that preliminary information is building up to say that within the first three months of operation, three men have been killed. Only one of the twenty-five men working full time on shift could be responsible for the deaths. The three victims were found beaten and stabbed to death at various locations on the job site. The first victim was found by one of the security guards and the next two were found by workmen.” Aaron nodded, finally understanding the gravity of the situation, and asked, “And you believe that the BAU can assist you in finding the unsub on this oil rig?” Frank looked confused as Hotch said, “Unsub,” and Aaron clarified, “The Behavioral Analysis Team calls potential murderers Unknown Subjects, or unsubs for short.” At hearing this, Ridgewell nodded and replied, “Yes, yes I do, but there’s more to it than just the killings.” Aaron raised an eyebrow and Strauss chimed in for the first time during the meeting, saying, “Take a look at these Agent Hotchner.” Strauss pushed a file labeled ‘Classified,” in front of the Unit Chief. Hotch opened the folders and inside found a dozen or so copies of transcripts and pictures of messages that had been unencrypted. The jist of all of them was that the three deaths had been an intentional attack on the U.S. oil and gas industry. After Aaron had carefully examined these pictures, he looked over to Strauss and then Ridgewell. He asked, “So you believe there is credibility to these claims?” Ridgewell gave a half-shrug before answering, “We can’t be sure yet, but if this information got and with the new site already having a negative reputation, there would be dire consequences. The current administration is desperate to keep prices on gas and oil low and even a momentary shutdown of operations would affect the bottom line. And heaven forbid those messages leaked to the public. Half of the States would be in a panic, and there'll be a run on fuel.” Hotch nodded. This case was more complicated than he had first expected. Strauss looked at her Senior Agent and stated, “We need you and the team in Alaska as soon as possible. This is a matter of national security. Agent Hotchner. You and the BAU will need to be extremely careful.” Aaron replied, “Yes, Ma’am.” He then turned to Ridgewell and said, “I’ll need to brief my team. We’ll be headed to the site by the afternoon.” Frank looked relieved and replied, “Thank you, Agent Hotchner. I’ll email you the file with the current crew of the rig and their supervisor. I should warn you that it’s going to be close quarters up there.” Aaron nodded. He didn’t ask for elaboration about the space, he was going to be there by the end of the day anyway, and he didn’t have time to think about it right now. Hotch stood and shook hands with Ridgewell and Strauss before straightening his jacket and moving outside to the hallway again.

Back in the bullpen, he moved to his office, He would need to check his email and do a bit of research before calling the team to the briefing room. He moved toward his office and Rossi passed him. Dave looked over his neutral expression. Though Aaron rarely showed his emotions openly, Rossi knew him well enough to know that something was amiss. David flashed him his, ‘New case?” Look, to which he nodded affirmatively. Aaron could see Rossi’s shoulders fall slightly. Hotch understood that his friend had also wanted a break. The caseload had been extra heavy over the last month and a half, and the team was aching for a break. As the two men passed each other on the stairs, the sound of laughter caught Aaron’s attention. He knew the laugh well. Better than he should. Aaron turned and saw _y/n_ sitting at her desk. She had a file slightly covering her face and her _y/e/c_ eyes were bright and wide. Emily and Derek were standing beside her having made some joke that he hadn’t heard. Looking at her like this, as a casual observer made a small flame in his chest flicker slightly, like a lighter being turned on by an unsteady hand. Aaron had begun to recognize that the small attraction that he had for _y/n_ had grown. Now every time he looked at her, he felt the need to stifle a sigh. For now, he was safe. _y/n_ hadn’t shown any particular interest in him, that he could tell. Or maybe he was just pretending to not notice when _y/n_ looked at him for longer than necessary, or how she checked in on him often, just to make sure he was really doing alright. Hotch turned away as another peal of laughter emerged from the group downstairs. In his office, he turned on his lamps and opened his email inbox for the new information Strauss had CC’d him. It was a good 110 pages of personnel files and maps of the site. More important for the team was when the supply boat schedule which went to the rig in the morning and early evening. It took Hotch a full hour to skim all of the new information. He sent Garcia an SOS to get as much dirt of the Northern Oil and Gas Supply LLC as she could. Particularly the new oil site called Farpoint 52, -153. The name was unassuming, and the first thing Penelope told him was that the numbers were latitude and longitude points in Alaska, but not those of the actual site.

When Aaron was ready, he had seven file folders with all the most important information accumulated including pictures of the victims that the local PD in Anchorage had just sent over. The attacks were brutal. The injuries on the three bodies seemed to be caused by blunt force trauma, and as Ridgewell had said, there were multiple stab wounds on the victims as well. Hotch took a long breath as he got up and moved outside his office. He knocked on JJ and Rossi’s doors and gave them their files. JJ said, “I’ll get Garcia to come and set up the screen in the briefing room.” Aaron thanked her, and she and Rossi moved out of his way. Hotch placed his hands on the railing of the stairs and called out for his agents saying, “BAU team, I need you in the conference room.” As all four members of the team looked up to him, the mood of the room changed, dimming from how lively it had just been. Hotch turned toward the meeting room before he could see their faces fall once more. Sometimes he thought that he couldn’t keep doing this to them. To himself. The isolation he felt when he was home alone left him a breathless aching mess. It was rare when he allowed those feelings to overwhelm him, but sometimes he couldn’t help it. When this happened, he often found himself in a steaming hot shower. So hot that it hurt. When he couldn’t control his emotions, he felt like a kid again after his father had gone on either a verbal or physical diatribe about his perceived shortcomings. The reminders of the abuse he endured for years would flare up and make him feel a different kind of shame and hurt than letting his team down. By the end of the shower, he had normally excised these emotions and feelings of weakness and would fall into a fitful sleep afterward.

_y/n_ watched Aaron turn quickly. She let out a long sigh at the announcement about a new case. Everyone on the team was exhausted, and it seemed that Hotch was the most exhausted of them all. She had watched him closely over the last month. Something about his demeanor had shifted. _y/n_ wondered if it was the two-year anniversary of Hailey leaving him that had initiated the change, or if it was something else personal or professional. She wanted to ask him what was wrong. How she could soothe him from the stress she could sense coming off of him. But she assumed that might be stepping over some personal work line, and she was still relatively new to the team. She didn’t want to risk any consequences for being overly personal. For now, all she could do was watch and wait for a time that seemed appropriate. She was fully aware that that time may never come and would have to be okay with just being near someone as commanding and steady as Aaron.

In the briefing room, everyone but Hotch and JJ sat. Aaron moved to the head of the table and said, “This morning I got a call from Director Strauss. When I got to her office, the Federal Energy Regulatory Commissioner was waiting for me. He has a case for us in Alaska that is a top priority. And…” Hotch paused as seven pairs of eyes waited for more details. Realizing that it might be more efficient to have his agents just read the brief in their files, he said, “Actually, why don’t you just turn to page one in your files and read over the case notes so far? I’ll give you a few moments.” The team opened the files in front of them and read the 1,000-ish word briefing on the first page. They were all aware that this case was different than the rest and that the brief hadn’t been written by JJ. Spencer and _y/n_ could tell it was Hotch’s writing almost immediately. The tense use and wording were very direct and blunt, just as Aaron was. Not that JJ added fluff, just that she took a few more words to make a point than their Unit Chief. Once those seated at the table had read over the first page and taken a look at the victim's pictures, Aaron moved forward and said, “Well as you can see, this latest case doesn’t have a lot of victims, but the timeline is progressing quickly and given that the crew is so small, these deaths have caused issues in the operation of the rig. On top of this, it seems that foreign agents are claiming they are playing a part in these deaths. If this is true or not; we can’t be sure until we find the Unsub.” Rossi tossed in the comment, “If it is foreign agents, they are most likely to come from Russia or the Middle East where much of the oil in the U.S. comes from. We should look at the crew and see if there are any potential ties to those countries.” Hotch inclined his head at the suggestion. It was a good one. With the primary details being said and a long flight ahead of them, Aaron concluded the information session by saying, “I recommend bringing the warmest clothes you have in your go bags, and something waterproof if you have it; I’m sure you can guess that it will be cold and wet where we’re headed.” Aaron looked at his team as they started standing, and he added one last thing that stilled the team and drew their attention to him again. He simply said, “I understand that this team has gone through a lot in the last few cases. I know you’re tired. After this case, I’m going to do my best to find some time for us to be off and recuperate for a bit. Please know that your efforts and work don’t go unnoticed by me. That’s all.” With his mini pep-talk finished, the team moved into action again. Aaron had meant what he said of course, but had also said it for himself too.

As everyone filed out of the room, _y/n_ approached Aaron and just barely touched his forearm to get his attention. Hotch looked down at her and asked, “What is it, _y/n_?” Sometimes when _y/n_ looked at him specifically, intentionally, he thought he saw a flicker of something more in her eyes than just attention and respect. He thought he saw it now, but he cleared his head. Now wasn’t the time for those thoughts. _y/n_ didn’t seem to notice how deeply he was looking at her when she said, “When you spoke to Strauss this morning, did she say anything more about the case? Is there anything else we need to know?” She hoped she wasn’t asking for information he couldn’t give. Hotch continued looking down at her for a moment before replying, “She just said that we needed to be safe. There are a lot of unknowns here. More than usual for a case.” _y/n_ acknowledged his statement and said softly, “Got it. See you in the parking lot.” With that, she quickly left to gather her go-bag and race to get some coffee if she could before the jet left for Anchorage. When _y/n_ had gone, Aaron took another moment to minorly compose himself. Then he moved to catch up with Garcia. He was going to ask her to join the team on this case due to the technical aspects that might be involved. He had a sinking suspicion that getting her on wifi all the way out where they would be might be harder than on the mainland. If foreign assets were involved or there was tampering with the equipment of the rig’s systems, Penelope was the most capable of any of them to lend a hand.

Thirty minutes later, the team piled into the jet with their go bags and files. Garcia was a balm to what seemed to be an already dreary case. As everyone sat, the ideas started flowing about motive and the type of unsub that they were dealing with. Spencer and Morgan were thinking about the physical elements of the unsub. Things like the impact of the wounds, the type of weapon being used to inflict them, and the force that would be needed to cause them. Their top ideas for weapons were a baseball bat or some other blunt object that had lots of fulcrum power. Meanwhile, JJ and Emily were looking through the personnel of the twenty-five full-time employees. Garcia was on every possible legal and illegal site that tracked energy and messages that could possibly correlate with countries like Russia, Iran, or Iraq. Rossi and Aaron were looking deeper into the oil company as a whole. To them, it seemed a little sketchy and the fact that Mr. Ridgewell had asked for the team personally belied that there might be some shady business not only from outside but inside the company as well. Rossi was talking about a possible correlation with BP and their recent legal troubles. As all this was happening, _y/n_ sat and listened to the cacophony of sounds bouncing around the plane. She had her notebook out and was taking her usual annotations on the case and jotting down when someone on the team said something she thought was important. She was feeling a bit overwhelmed with all the chatter happening around her, so she took a moment to grab a coffee from the back of the jet. The team had moved out so quickly that she didn’t get a chance to grab a cup in the office break room. She moved past Hotch and noticed he wasn’t holding a cup either. _y/n_ stopped briefly in front of her boss, and he looked up at her. She made a hand motion to indicate ‘drink?’ Aaron gave her a small, grateful look and nodded his head yes.

At the back of the jet across from the small sink and mirror, was the coffee machine. She put in the water and a capsule for the Keurig. _y/n_ placed a cup under the dispenser and pushed run, on the machine. _y/n_ somehow hated the Keurig coffee more than the office coffee. It managed to always taste burned and flavorless no matter which flavor of pod she picked. But the caffeine was a necessity at the start of a case for her. It was half ritual half desire, and she didn’t fight it. When her cup was finished, she started the process again for Aaron, who no matter what coffee he was drinking, seemed unfazed by the quality of the brew. As Hotch’s cup started filling, _y/n_ doctored her own cup with milk and white sugar. Once both drinks were ready, she placed lids on the cups and moved back to the cabin of the plane. As she passed Hotch, she seamlessly handed his cup to him, as she settled back to her own spot further down the row. Garcia watched as this happened. It was like moving a baton between two runners in a relay. ‘They hardly looked at each other while it happened!’ The technical analyst thought. Penelope hadn’t been on a case since _y/n_ had joined, and this behavior was new and exciting for someone like Hotch. Garcia had taken special care with _y/n_. The newest BAU agent was young, and she knew more about _y/n_’s background than most of the team. Because of this, Garcia had done her best to uplift and support _y/n_But it seems that _y/n_ was supporting the team in small ways too. Penelope knew that _y/n_ was attentive and sharp in her mind and actions if she needed to be. But this was generally hidden beneath her gentle warm exterior. But seeing _y/n_ meet even the smallest needs without even being asked to was such her thing; at least, that was what Penelope thought. Now that she was here seeing this, Garcia was going to have to pay more attention to _y/n_ and Hotch. Because she wanted to know if this was just a them thing, or was _y/n_ acting like this with the whole team?

_y/n_ sat and took a sip of the coffee that was a little too hot. The liquid burned her tongue and she made a small face of pain. Thankfully no one was looking at her at the time. _y/n_ set the cup in the cupholder next to her seat and looked at the picture of the rig itself again. This setting was so bizarre for a crime. Even the photos of the outside of the rig made her feel unnerved. _y/n_ tried to think of any prior cases like this. There had to be some. _y/n_ was fiercely thinking about old cases. Old old cases even. This case was going to require thinking outside the box. Finally, with eyes closed and brows pinched, some ideas started coming to her. With some inspiration, she began writing quickly on a new page of her notepad As this was happening, Aaron looked around the cabin. Everyone was still intensely focused, and he walked around each group to see what they had come up with so far. Spencer and Morgan had surmised that the unsub was probably smaller than they might assume. Given that they used blunt objects to kill the victim. If the unsub had a lot of strength, they should be able to kill their victims without the need for an object. Between JJ and Emily, they had pinpointed a few possible workers who might fit certain profile types and those specifically seemed to be linked to odd organizations or firms that could be linked to terrorist organizations. As Aaron moved to ask Garcia how it was going, she shooed him away with a tut-tut indicating that she was too busy for a check-in at the moment.

The last person he needed to see was _y/n_. As he approached her, she seemed deep in thought, and he sat across from her and sat for a minute or two in silence as he let her wrap up whatever she was writing. When _y/n_’s pen stilled, she looked up at him and he asked, “You seem to be having some ideas overhear. Mind sharing them with me?” _y/n_ nodded, looking down to her notes. She resisted the urge to say, ‘I don’t feel good about this case. I can’t pinpoint it, but something feels off here.’ Instead, she said, “I was thinking about the setting; the rig. Looking at the ariel photographs, the maps of the interior, and the security footage from the main hallways made me think about something. It’s so isolated. If you work there then it’s a tight space, and you work a dangerous job, and you see the same twenty or so people day after day for three to four weeks.” Hotch nodded along, getting a feeling for where she was going. When they made eye contact again, he said, “And?” He was encouraging her to finish her thought. _y/n_ gave a soft sigh as if she was doubting herself. Whether there was doubt or not, _y/n_ continued, saying, “Well those working conditions can’t be good for one’s psyche. I was considering some old cases. I know that Cabin Fever isn’t a diagnosable psychological condition, but there’s a history of those symptoms manifesting in groups of isolated people. I’m thinking as far back as the Donner party in 1846. There was the Highcliff’s in 1980, and more recently the Smith and Wess party in 1992. I know these are ancient cases for the team but it seems to fit to me. I know this case could be way more complex given the terrorism element, but just looking at the brief you wrote, I think this might be a case of insanity due to the location. I could be wrong. I could be totally off here, but it’s what I’ve got so far.” Aaron thought about what _y/n_ had said and replied, “I’m not saying that that train of thought is not out there, but given the novelty of this case, I think we need someone who is thinking with a separate mind frame. Once we’re on site, keep what you have here in the back of your mind. If you see anything that relates to this theory let me know immediately.” _y/n_ nodded at him in agreement as he stood and made his way back to Rossi. Sometimes when Hotch or anyone asked her her thoughts early on, she feared that she sounded unhinged, or worse, stupid. _y/n_was still finding solid footing with the team, but Hotch never dismissed her ideas unless they were fully implausible, and she appreciated that about him.

The flight moved quickly after this. Although there were five hours left, the team regrouped and shared what they knew before touchdown in Anchorage. When the jet landed, the sun was already setting in the West although it was only 5:30 p.m. It only took a few minutes before they arrived in the SUVs at the dock with the resupply boat that would take them to the rig thirty minutes offshore. The team turned in all three sets of keys to the cars to the police officer waiting for them at the dock. Aaron promised to call the local LEO when the team was ready for their return to the small airstrip. The team pulled their go bags from the back of the cars. Derek was kind enough to carry Garcia’s pink and sparkly duffle on top of his small carry-on suitcase. The team had bundled up in their jackets and they were buffeted by the harsh northern winds beating them from all sides. As they boarded the gangway, Hotch momentarily steadied _y/n_ who he was walking next to. Though she seemed okay, it seemed to him that she could use a steadying hand for a moment as she battled the wind. When she felt Aaron approach her and then place a steadying hand just barely against her back she looked at him. He wore that expression that just said, ‘I’m here.’ _y/n_ gave him a nod, indicating that she appreciated the gesture. Aaron kept his hand where it was until they got on deck. Once they were on a more sturdy surface, Hotch removed his hand but moved to take the handle of _y/n’s small wheeled case in his open left hand. Their hands brushed briefly as they exchanged the weight of her luggage. Neither Aaron nor _y/n_ said anything at the exchange, but she gave him a soft smile as he moved toward the stairway that led to the passenger area of the ship. This had become a little pattern of theirs over the past few months. There was a kind of shared understanding of care between them. Aaron told himself that this was him taking care of his newest agent, and _y/n_ told herself that this was her trying to prove that she noticed the small needs of the team; both of them were lying to themselves.

Once the team was downstairs _y/n_ took charge of her case again, as Aaron and JJ moved to the control room to introduce themselves to the captain and get some relevant information. While the team waited to start moving, they all settled into the uncomfortable benches either in the center of the boat or those near the sides of the room that had a few windows looking out onto the choppy Alaskan Sea. After a few minutes, the boat motors started roaring to life and the resupply vessel moved toward the open water. Garcia moved to sit next to _y/n_ who had slumped down on a bench next to one of the windows. The waves were a dark green and blue, and the clouds had turned a charcoal grey as the sun started to dip below the horizon. Penelope looked over to _y/n_ and asked, “How are you holding up, friend?” _y/n_ looked over to Garcia and said, “I don’t like this Penelope. This feels off to me. This case.” Garcia nodded along and said, “Trust your gut _y/n_. You know yourself better than anyone else. If you ever need to talk, I’m here for you.” _y/n_ nodded and both she and the tech whizz turned to look as Hotch and JJ returned from the bridge. Aaron stepped into the center of the room. The boat listed up and down slightly, but he seemed perfectly stable even as the boat took on a large wave. In his smooth voice, Aaron said, “According to the skipper we should be at the rig in around twenty-five minutes. Apparently, the seas are pretty rough tonight. Once we get there, the boat will take a few minutes to dock. A worker on the rig is going to get our luggage for us, so leave it here by the door when we disembark. Once we’re on the rig the first thing we'll do is meet the foreman. As you saw in the file, his man is Mr. Obermann. Once I’ve introduced us all, we’ll get a tour of the rig. Find rooms and then debrief if that sounds alright?” Everyone agreed and said so in some way or another. _y/n_ always found it interesting that he said things like, ‘If that’s alright with you.’ To the team. It’s not exactly like they had a choice on what happened at the start of a case. _y/n_ hypothesized that he did this to give them an allusion of control. Also, if someone did really have a suggestion that the team do something differently -- like asking to go to a crime scene or the hospital or something like that -- then he would consider it. However, Aaron was usually good at predicting the needs of the team and the case. He was their leader after all.

The resupply boat arrived at the rig and the size of the massive object that was being buffeted by the cold waves was more massive than any of them had imagined. The rig wasn’t the only thing being pushed by the harsh wind. As the team got outside and made it to the short ladder they would need to climb to get to the main platform. Derek helped _y/n_ and Garcia get to the ladder while Aaron helped JJ, and Rossi provided Emily a steadying hand. The whole team pulled their jackets tighter around themselves as they made it to the main door. A worker pulled the heavy metal door open for them. The door led directly to the crew’s rec room. Mr. Obermann was waiting for them and stood as the team entered the room. Aaron moved to the front of the pack and introduced himself and the team quickly. Mr. Obermann looked stressed and worn out which was understandable given the circumstances. The man said, “Well I appreciate you all coming so far. If this doesn’t get fixed it will be hell for the company, but more importantly to me twenty-five good hard-working men. Because you’ve all come I’ve sent all the temp workers home until you find our guy. What did you call him again?” Aaron replied, “The unknown subject, or unsub for short.” Obermann nodded and said, “Yeah. That. The men that are still here are freaked. They all think they’re going to be the next victim. It’s not good for the job as they need to pay full attention to what they are doing. Risk of injury on offshore rigs are thirty three percent more likely than those on land.” Obermann stopped to take a breath before continuing, “Now I’ll give you a tour of the place. I need you all to put on hard hats.

The protective headwear was passed out, and the team put the hats on. JJ, Penelope, and _y/n_ struggled not to laugh at the look of all the men on the team wearing the hats. Particularly Rossi, Morgan, and Aaron. Hotch looked like a midwestern politician trying to get votes from the rustbelt to _y/n_, and she actually had to cough to hide her laugh. She was fully aware that she must also look like a fool, but she just couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. Once they were equipped, the team and Mr. Obermann moved through an internal door that led to a long hallway. The foreman moved through each of the rooms on that floor, including his small office, the mess hall, the laundry room, and some of the sleeping quarters. They moved outside, and the team looked at the helipad, and the derrick that brought the oil up to the surface. The team moved back inside and moved down the steps to the first level of the rig. The lower floor was very dark and close to the water level. The sound of the waves could be heard through the thick steel and concrete which spoke to the power of the water surrounding them. Obermann guided through the more mechanical side of the rigs. The communal showers for the crew were also located on the second level. As they walked through the mechanical room, Obermann said, “This room is generally off limits, but as you know, the first victim was found here. I ask that if you need to be in here, let me know and I’ll send someone to open it for you.” The tour took a long time as the space was cramped and a lot of the rooms required them to be careful. Obermann led them back to the rec room where their luggage was waiting for them. Oberman said, “I’ll give you all a few minutes to pick rooms for yourself. The rooms that are free are downstairs. With all of you here, you’ll have to double up. The keys to the rooms are on the table and are labeled with the number that matches the door. Now I have some paperwork to attend to, but I’ll be in my office for any questions you have.”

As Obermann moved to his office, the team looked at each other. Having to share rooms was never something they enjoyed. Though the team was close, it was an entirely different thing to have to share a room. The team's cases often brought a lot of stress and little sleep, and having the privacy of their own space let them decompress in their own form or fashion was needed. On the rare occasions that the team did share rooms, it was fine, but everyone was far more comfortable alone. But, the work needed to be done, and they needed to start quickly, so no one made a fuss. With that out of the way, the team paired up. Derek, Spencer, and Rossi shared one of the rooms that had three beds, and JJ, Emily, and Garcia took the other room with three beds. Emily offered to share her bed with _y/n_ but _y/n_ said that she was alright being with Hotch in the room with two beds. If it meant having her own bed she would be fine. Aaron overheard _y/n_ and Prentiss’s conversation, and he felt a tug in his chest. He wasn’t sure if the feeling was because _y/n_ seemed so okay with sharing a room with him, or the fact that he was even thinking about it. Hotch had noticed his feelings change toward _y/n_ in the last few months. He wasn’t sure what was pulling him to her, but in some tiny way, things seemed to have shifted in the air for them. And Aaron knew that it wasn’t just him that felt the change. _y/n_ had started to adapt around him. Doing things for him she didn’t need to but that he wanted. He had started reciprocating the gestures and it just kind of clicked in place. Hotch hadn’t given this much thought yet. There hadn’t been time, and he wanted to wait before he did anything more. The fact that he was thinking this now felt like he was breaking some kind of supervisory rule. Even if _y/n_ seemed completely fine with sharing a room with him, he wanted to check in personally. As the rest of the groups moved down the stairs with their suitcases, Hotch stepped toward her.

When Aaron was next to her, he looked down into her eyes and said, “_y/n_, you don’t have to share a room with me. I can make another arraignment or sleep on one of the couches in here if you prefer.” _y/n_ appreciated the gesture, and she looked over what appeared to be the most old, decrepit, and uncomfortable couches she had seen in her life. Not only would Hotch’s sleep be compromised, but he honestly might be unsafe here given that the rec room was open 24/7. With the killings happening, she would never risk him like that. Even if she was uncomfortable with the idea of sleeping in the same room as her boss, she still wouldn’t make him sleep in a space like this. Although _y/n_ didn’t find the idea of sleeping in the same room as Hotch uncomfortable, she did find it a bit awkward. Over the past few months, she had had some less-than-professional thoughts about her Unit Chief. None of them had strayed into the lewd, lurid, or vulgar, but even so, being that close to Aaron made her insides flutter slightly. She told the butterflies just trying to take flight for the first time to slow down. For now, she was just thinking about this situation by internally telling herself, ‘It’s just Hotch.’ _y/n_ didn’t mean this in a demeaning way. Many of her close relationships or intimate moments with men were marred by pain or betrayal. So for her to simply and honestly say, ‘It’s just Hotch,’ meant a great deal. “Alright, but if at any time you feel like you need space during the night, just tell me and I’ll give it to you.” _y/n_ smiled and nodded, saying, “I will, Hotch. Now, maybe we should put our stuff away so we can get to work?” Aaron nodded in agreement and he stood more straight. The pair grabbed the last room key and their cases. The duo moved down the stairs and to the end of the hallway where their room was.

Hotch pulled the door’s key from his pants pocket and fitted it into the lock. There was the pleasant sound of the bolt clicking back. Aaron took the metal handle in his large hand. The door swung outward, and he froze momentarily as he looked into the room. _y/n_ noticed his shift in demeanor and softly asked, “What is it?” She pressed closer to him, and she realized why he had reacted as he had. The room they were supposed to share only had one bed and from the size of it, there was no space for another mattress. Aaron muttered something she couldn’t hear under his breath before he more loudly articulated, “There must be a mistake. I’ll talk to Obermann. Or we can talk to someone on the team. Emily will still let you sleep with her. I’m sure of it.” While he said this, two thoughts were happening simultaneously in _y/n_’s head. The first was that her work phone had vibrated in her pocket about ten times since she and Hotch had been trying to negotiate about the room. _y/n_ took a moment to look through her messages. It seemed the other team members were ready to start building the profile for the unsub and were waiting for her and Hotch. This meant she had little time to think about the second thought running through her head like a fire. Imagining sleeping in the same bed as Aaron, even momentarily pulled a light flush to her face. She pushed the latter thought back for later and said, “Hotch, we can figure it out later. I think the team is waiting for us in the rec room. Em said there’s coffee. Let’s just put our cases inside and you and I can figure this out later.” Aaron turned to _y/n_ with a furrowed brow. For a second he could see the flush on her skin but moved to look away not ready to acknowledge that fact yet. Though he wanted to rectify this situation immediately, _y/n_ was right. He gave a small sigh and said, “You’re right. We can figure it out later." With that Aaron and _y/n_ moved into the small space. Hotch pushed his suitcase under the small space of the bed while _y/n_ placed her smaller case in the only open storage area the room had. When this was done, they both left the room; Aaron switched off the light and locked the door behind him. As they made their way back up to the first floor, Aaron sighed. This wasn’t particularly Obermann’s fault, but it was a unique situation for sure. One that he would resolve to make sure _y/n_ was comfortable. For some reason when he saw her in pain or discomfort, it really ate at him. This had only happened twice, but those were two times he did not want to repeat. And he certainly wasn’t going to be the cause of her discomfort.

The pair moved back to the team and settled into the open spots at one of the tables in the rec room. The darkness outside the windows of the rec room seemed to try and penetrate through and around the lights on the rig, and the howl of the wind crashed with the waves as the team worked late into the night. They bounced ideas off each other and looked at the first three spots where the victims had been found. By 2:40 a.m. the team had a basic profile down. They assumed the unsub was around forty to fifty-five years old, which eliminated a little less than half of the twenty-five workers. They also assumed the man was important and potentially used violence as a substitute for sex and a form of release. _y/n_ kept the idea of cabin fever in the back of her head and suggested acts of hysteria or depression for the profile. She clarified, “We wouldn’t see that behavior here, but while this unsub is not on the rig I think bouts of anger and depression might be a pattern. He might have even lost jobs because of this before.” Rossi agreed and said, “We can ask Mr. Obermann about people with those traits tomorrow morning. We also know the attacks happen at night when most of the crew are asleep and only the night shift workers are awake.” Derek tacked on, “And they happen where there aren’t cameras or the lighting is too dark to see clearly. It’s often near the machinery to drown out any screaming.” Now that the preliminary profile was created, it would give the team a better chance to look over all the workers tomorrow who they were meeting in the morning. They had only met two men officially that night and it was the two security guards. One was a younger man in his thirties named Joe, and the other was in his fifties named Pete. The team had met the two while they changed shifts. Both men had introduced themselves and told the members of the BAU to call them at any time if they needed help. Derek and Aaron both clocked that neither man carried a gun, but did have retractable nightsticks in their belts.

By this point, it was nearly three, and many members of the team decided to call it a night. They needed to wake up at five a.m. to meet the oil workers before their shift started at 6:00 a.m. It was only Rossi, Garcia, Aaron, and _y/n_ left awake. _y/n_ could feel the weight of her exhaustion pulling at her. Her mind was foggy and looking at the files actually hurt her eyes. The lights on the rig at night were a bit dimmed and she longed to get to sleep. She pushed away from the table and Garcia looked up and asked, “Are you going to bed, darling?” _y/n_ nodded. At hearing this, Aaron looked over to her and she approached him. Mr. Obermann had retired hours ago and _y/n_ was sure Emily was out like a light by now. She could see Hotch eyeing the couches again and she just barely touched his shoulder. He looked over to her and she nodded her head toward his phone, which pinged once. Aaron picked up the device and swiped up on _y/n_’s text message. He quickly read it over. The message read: “Hotch. I guarantee that sleeping in the same room, even the same bed as you doesn’t make me uncomfortable. It may be unorthodox by FBI standards, but I’m tired and I don’t to wake JJ or Emily. Please don’t sleep on those couches or stay up all night to try and make tonight better for me. You need rest too. If sleeping with me makes you uncomfortable, I’ll take the couch, just wake me up and let me know.” Hotch turned back to _y/n_ and could see that she was being honest, about all of it. That she wasn’t uncomfortable, and that she would take the couch if he wanted to be alone. Again he had that feeling that he was being cared for by _y/n_. And even though he felt uncertain for some unknown reason, he couldn’t deny he’d rather be on a bed than the couches. Finally, he gave her a small nod letting her know that he would be down at the room later. Silently, _y/n_ mouthed, “Night Aaron.” With that, she slipped into the corridor and out of sight. Garcia had observed whatever that odd interaction was between her two friends and she was sure something was happening. What that was, she couldn’t say yet, but with her snooping and pleading skills, she hoped to find out soon enough.

After another hour, Aaron was the only one still up. He was stalling and he knew it. With a sigh, Hotch put his loose papers in his file. He picked up the manila folder and moved downstairs. The grimy, dim hall lights flickered and the shadows seemed to move as Hotch walked down the small corridor. Hotch stopped outside the showers and considered taking one. Again he was stalling. He didn’t need a shower, he needed sleep. He passed the showers and tried to unlock the door as quietly as he could. It was dark in the room and he felt around the dark space for the edge of the bed. _y/n_’s slow breathing filled the room along with the sound of the wave slapping the sides of the rig. Aaron knelt down and tried to quietly remove his suitcase from under the bed. He stopped once it was out and listened. From her breathing, it seemed that _y/n_ was still asleep. He unzipped the case and at this point, his eyes had adjusted to the darkness. He found his grey sweatpants and a sleeping shirt. He couldn’t tell what color it was in the dark but it didn’t really matter. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone. Once he had the articles of clothing, he pushed his suitcase back under the bed. Once he was standing again, he considered moving back to the showers to change. However, opening the door and letting in the light from the hall might wake _y/n_. He looked over at his agent who was turned away from him facing the wall. She was obviously asleep, and he decided to just quickly change in the room. He placed his pajamas on the empty side of the twin bed. He faced the other direction and quietly undid the buckle of his belt. He slipped it out of his belt loops and when it was free, he silently placed the leather on the bed. With a fast intentional movement, he undid the button and zipper of his pants. He slipped off the fabric and when his legs were free, he grabbed his sweats and slipped them on. Somehow Aaron felt that it would be alright if _y/n_ saw him in his undershirt or even bare-chested, but something about her seeing his legs or worse his groin -- even if it was covered with briefs was too embarrassing to think about.

A tiny voice in his head said mockingly, “And you just thought ‘you weren’t trying to impress someone?’” Hotch grit his teeth, removed his shirt and undershirt, and put on the soft cotton of his sleeping shirt. Aaron folded the clothes that he had put on the bed and set them on top of _y/n_’s case. He would hang them up tomorrow. He slowly sat down on the edge of the mattress and it dipped slightly with his weight. Very slowly he moved his legs onto the bed and it was just long enough to fit his tall frame. He lay on his back. For his sake and _y/n_’s he decided to sleep on top of the covers, while _y/n_ stayed bundled beneath them. This would at least give them a layer of separation between them. Aaron wasn’t sure if it was his was his stirring or even his body heat, but _y/n_ seemed to momentarily wake, and in a sleep-heavy voice asked, “Hotch.” It was hard to tell if she was still asleep or not, but he softly replied, “It’s me.” This answer seemed to soothe her and _y/n_ quickly fell back asleep. The exhaustion Aaron felt nearly made him fall asleep before he turned on his side to face the opposite direction from _y/n_. For once, he was grateful that he was so tired that his mind couldn’t wander to places he shouldn't let it.

An hour or so later Aaron woke when _y/n_ made a small sound in her sleep. It was like a little hum or maybe the softest “yes” he had heard in his life. As he came to a more conscious state he realized that he was warm. Warmer than he had been when he fell asleep. In his sleep, he had managed to get under the covers and he was nestled next to _y/n_. His right arm was around her waist and his face was pressed into the soft smooth skin of her neck. Hotch stilled his body. Apart from the fact that being pressed close to _y/n_ felt good, he realized that he needed to move slowly or he might wake her while he disentangled his body from hers. Hotch pulled his face back first, and in his tired mind, he thought about how he missed _y/n_’s crisp scent. Next, he removed his arm from her waist. _y/n_ made another noise at this retraction but still didn’t wake. Aaron thanked the gods for apparently making _y/n_ a deep sleeper. Finally, Aaron rolled onto his back and then to his original position facing the other wall. He was too drained to try and get out and above the covers again, and anyway the warmth from both the blankets and _y/n_ who was only an inch or so away from him felt good, and he fell back into unconsciousness after a few minutes.

In the morning, neither Aaron nor _y/n_ had the time to reflect that they had ended up in each other's arms again during the night because they were jolted awake by the sound of someone screaming. _y/n_ said, “It’s Garcia.” Both Aaron and _y/n_ quickly put on their shoes and grabbed their guns in case there was any danger. Aaron moved out the door first and _y/n_ followed closely after. The sound had come from the nearby showers. Mr. Obermann had set up for the showers to be open from six to seven a.m. each morning for the BAU women to shower safely and with the guarantee that a man wouldn’t interrupt them. This was something JJ had set up on the flight over to Alaska. JJ had ensured that the same was promised for the men on the team, but their hours were in the evening. As Aaron and _y/n_ arrived outside the showers, Morgan was gently guiding Penelope from outside. The technical analyst was sobbing and Derek sort of passed her over to _y/n_ who put her gun away. Morgan firmly said, “Get her away from here, _y/n_. We have a new victim.” _y/n_ nodded and she tried to comfort Garcia as they moved away from the new scene. Hotch slipped past them and at his point the whole team assembled. Rossi was acting as a guard against the workers who wondered what was going on, and if someone had been killed. As _y/n_ passed JJ, she asked the media liaison to come with her and Garcia to provide another more comforting presence for Penelope. JJ nodded and they moved back to the women’s room.

It was a hectic three hours at the start of the morning as a coroner and the local authorities were called. The oil workers became increasingly restless with all of the authorities and the BAU around. To the men, so far these newcomers hadn’t done anything to protect them yet. Once Penelope had calmed, _y/n_ sat on Emily’s bed and thought to the morning. To Hotch in his sneakers and grey sweatpants and dark blue shirt with his gun drawn. To Rossi in a dressing gown and undershirt, and Morgan in a tank and sweats. In fact, they had all been in sleeping clothes except for Spencer. _y/n_ expected that the young genius had stayed up all night. The sight of all of them with guns in such casual clothing would have been funny if it was in a dream or something. But this wasn’t a dream. They were isolated in the middle of nowhere. So far away from civilization that it took an hour for the coroner to arrive. _y/n_ thought back to her isolation theory. She looked forward to speaking with Obermann when she got the chance to see what he had to say. She could also get JJ to look over the personnel files with her for clues as well. After Emily dropped off a soda for Garcia, _y/n_ asked Garcia if she could describe what had happened in the morning and any clues she might have seen or observed. _y/n_ had her pen and pad ready when her friend began to speak. Finally, the police left, the coroner took the body, and the team changed into their professional clothes and assembled in the rec space. Obermann and all the workers minus the fourth victim were assembled.

Obermann spoke first and said, “Alright, new rule. Teams of three only. No one moves alone, even to piss. No teams of two, teams of three. I’ve called corporate and am waiting for a response. If they tell us to leave today, we will. But until then we can still do our jobs. And if you can’t tell me. Before we get to today’s work, I’ll have Agent Hotchner speak to you. Listen to him and his team without any grumbling or complaints unless you want to be written up.”With that, Oberman stepped aside for Aaron. Hotch tried to make this quick. He could tell the men in front of him were angsty. He cleared his throat and said, “As Mr. Obermann said, I’m Agent Aaron Hotchner. I work for the FBI in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. I and my team are here to find the person who is making this an even more dangerous place to work. I am sincerely sorry for your loss this morning. I and my team standing beside me will do everything we can to try and not allow something like that to happen again while we are here. If any of you see something off or suspicious, don’t hesitate to tell me, our Media Liaison, or anyone on the team. I promise we won’t get in your way. For now, that’s all.” Aaron stepped back and motioned for the team to move further back into the room as Obermann started giving the instructions for the day's labor. Aaron had cut out a lot of the formalities, his title, and the science behind the team's work. It wasn’t needed now. He had been speaking to hardened working men, not cops, and sounding fancy or professional wouldn’t make their opinions of him or the team any higher. As Obermann gave orders, Aaron similarly divvied up tasks for the team. Garcia, who had much recovered from her shocking morning would continue looking at the terror element and online leads. He and Morgan would look at the crime scenes. Rossi volunteered to watch the men at work and see if he saw anything that fit the profile. JJ, _y/n_, and Emily volunteered to look at the files of the employees again, as well as rewatching any relevant footage, and Spencer would work on a geographic profile if that was even possible in a space this small. Hotch, like Obermann, told his team that he wanted them in pairs. The events of the morning were a clear reminder that there was significant danger for everyone on the rig.

The team worked tirelessly through the day. They all even missed breakfast and lunch. They reconvened at mid-day and shared what they had. Rossi had suspicions about two men, Baker and Price. Em, JJ, and _y/n_ had thoughts about three men: Slainfield, Parkins, and Jotenson. _y/n_ also had a bad feeling about Pete. However, Pete was standing by them so she didn’t say anything to the whole team. But once the man was gone, she approached Aaron. He was leaning over his and Rossi’s notes on the table, but he acknowledged her presence by turning his head to her for a moment. _y/n_ said, “I think that there’s something off about Pete. He seems to match the profile well and…” She paused momentarily and Hotch looked at her closely, saying, “And?” _y/n_ swallowed and said, “Maybe this is silly but he gives me a bad feeling.” Hotch nodded and said, “It’s not silly. We’ll keep an eye on him.”

The team worked through the afternoon and into the evening. Every now and then they would update the group as they discovered new things. Morgan and Hotch had looked at the crime scene and the pictures of the victim. It was clear that this murder was faster and more reckless. It had happened in a more public place unlike the last three and there was less bruising which meant the death had been rushed. Hotch and Rossi made two hypotheses: one was that the killer was trying to show dominance to the team. To demonstrate that he could kill even with them watching. The second was that he was getting sloppy. He might be trying to show strength, but it was evident in the victim’s body that he was slipping. In the evening the team met for dinner with the rest of the workers. The BAU members all sat together at a table on the far side of the room. Clear cliques could be seen in the oil men as the group sat and chattered softly. None of the men looked at the team and they clearly didn’t want to be overheard. It was clear that the team's presence and the fact that a killer was among them was altering their behavior. As _y/n_ looked over the group and then to her friends it all suddenly felt like high school. And in a moment that felt like a bad teen romance, _y/n_ thought of the morning, before Garcia had shifted the course of events for the day with her discovery. _y/n_ had woken early. She wanted a shower even if she didn’t really need it. She had not expected to wake up warm and cozily tucked in Aaron’s arms with his face pressed into her hair. The comfort she found in his embrace knocked the senses out of her for a moment before she realized he was her boss and any feeling that might or might not been growing in her would be rejected. Not that she’d ever have the nerve to say or do anything. She liked her job too much to do something stupid. She liked Aaron too. As a colleague and friend, she wouldn’t want to make things awkward between them. _y/n_ came back to herself and wondered how she could navigate out of the small bed and his warm, strong arms to get to the showers. Just then Penelope had screamed and saved her from having to think about it. _y/n_ snapped back to reality as Emily said something to her. _y/n_ looked over at Prentiss and said, “Sorry, come again?” As she picked up her pizza for another bite.

To call the food good would be hyperbole, but the team was so famished the cafeteria-grade food tasted amazing. The workmen moved to finish their tasks for the night before turning in. The team continued working for an hour or so before many members also turned in for the night. Perhaps it was the cramped space or the fact that the daylight faded quickly leaving the rig in darkness much of the time, or just the sounds of the waves that made them all a little more sleepy than usual. Emily, Garcia, _y/n_, and JJ were one of the groups to turn in early. _y/n_ could tell that Garcia was going to start asking her questions about what the night with Aaron had been like. To avoid having that personal conversation right now, _y/n_ faked a yawn to indicate that she was really sleepy, which she was. Her strategy worked and Garcia, who was actively going to ask _y/n_ about her night yesterday stopped herself realizing that her friend was tired. Each of the women moved to their rooms and got ready for bed. When the lights were off and _y/n_ was under the blanket and her breathing was the only sound in the room, she thought she heard a creaking from the corner of the small space. _y/n_ sat up, but there was obviously no one there. She lay back down and pulled the covers over her head like a little girl. The place unnerved her. It was like an isolated haunted British mansion with a vengeful ghost roaming the corridors. Except this ghost was real and would do more than scare you to death. _y/n_ let out a sigh at her silly thoughts. She cleared her head and actually focused on getting some rest.

Aaron was not the last one up this time. That honor went to Derek who was chatting with Garcia about something technical that he wasn’t sure he fully understood. Hotch stood and excused himself. Aaron was smarter the second night, and he had set out a clean pair of pajamas and his toiletries for his shower night. Aaron grabbed the items and moved back to the shower room. Hotch stripped and moved into one of the communal showers. He pulled the frosted plastic curtain back for privacy. He turned on the water and flinched as the ice-cold water hit his skin. It took a moment before the warm water replaced the frigid. When the hot water did come, he let out a little sigh. He didn’t know where it had come from. He assumed it was from being so tired. From the real and present danger his team was in, and also that there had been a dead body in this very space many hours earlier. As he reflected, he thought, ‘These cases certainly make strange bedfellows of places.’ And it was true. Where hadn’t he seen a crime? Churches, dressing rooms, parks, campgrounds, strip clubs, showers, houses, houses, houses… Aaron tried to not focus on the morbidity of his job. He was actually thinking about the ‘bedfellows’ part of his thought. Because this case was making him have a strange bedfellow in _y/n_. In what world would something like this happen? In what twisted world was he so comfortable with it happening? He thought back to when he woke up holding _y/n_. Now Aaron actually stopped himself from groaning. ‘You’re tired,’ Aaron reassured himself. He more quickly worked through his routine of thoroughly cleaning his skin and washing his hair. After drying off with a towel and changing. He moved back into the room and settled into the bed. As he lay down, he looked at the metal ceiling painted an unimaginative hospital beige. He silently said, ‘You won’t hold _y/n_ tonight._’ He repeated it a few times. It was a technique he used with Jack when he had bad dreams. Aaron told his son that if you say something while you’re awake, like, “I won’t have a nightmare tonight,” that it will happen in your sleep too. Hotch softly chuckled at the fact that he was using a comforting technique for his son on himself. As his thoughts shifted to Jack, he slipped into sleep.

It was the middle of the night, Aaron woke when he felt like all the air had been sucked from the room and a heavy weight seemed to press down on him. He shifted up and looked at _y/n_. He was surprised when he saw her eyes wide open apparently looking at the foot of the bed. He could tell something was off. Her body was stiff like a board. Aaron tried to get her to relax by gently shaking her shoulder and calling her name, but this had no response. Hotch swallowed and placed his fingers over her pulse. It was a bit elevated, but he could see her breathing normally. Her condition scared him, and he called her name again. After a moment _y/n_’s eyes shifted from the edge of the bed and up to the ceiling. Aaron knew there was nothing there, but he looked up at the flat surface anyway. He tried shaking her again. He was wondering if she was having a stroke, but the odd symptoms didn’t look like those of a stroke, and _y/n_ was far too young and healthy to have a stroke. He would have seen it in her medical history and not let her on the team. For another agonizing minute, _y/n lay still. _y/n_ seemed to snap out of whatever this episode was. She quite literally collapsed into the mattress, and she took large unsteady breaths like she was panicking or had been unable to breathe over the last few minutes. Aaron’s voice was filled with concern and worry, as he brushed his hand over her arm and said, _y/n_. What was that?” In a strained voice, _y/n_ said, “Lights. Give me a minute.” Hotch nodded, and he felt relieved hearing her voice, even if it did sound distressed. He leaned over to his side of the wall and flipped the light switch on. The low-level fluorescent glow of the overhead made Hotch blink a few times. When his eyes had adjusted, he watched _y/n_. Her eyes were closed and she was clearly doing some breathing techniques to calm herself and her nervous system down. Aaron’s hand briefly ghosted over her upright palm. For a moment he wanted the take it in his own hand, but he stopped himself. He grabbed at the sheets of the bed and made a fist with the fabric instead. After a few minutes, _y/n_ sat up. One of her legs was bent to her chest, and she placed her forehead in her right hand. Aaron cleared his throat and as if she just now remembered he was there, she turned her head to look at him with her forehead still in her hand. She looked so scared. Her eyes shone with it. After a final beat of silence, _y/n_ said, “Do you know what sleep paralysis is?” Her voice was slightly hoarse, lower than its normal register. Hotch thought about what he knew about the condition. He’d heard of it before, but never experienced it himself. Softly, he replied, “I have. Though I don’t know a lot about it.” _y/n_ nodded and then said, “Well now you’ve seen it.” Seeing _y/n_ like this pulled at his insides, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He moved his hand to the small of her back to provide some comfort.

_y/n_ seemed to settle with his touch, and she took her head out of her hand. Aaron wanted, needed some answers. So as kindly as he could, he asked, “What is that like exactly? You were so stiff for about three minutes.” _y/n_’s brow pinched for a moment and she replied, “It’s like locked-in syndrome a bit. You’re aware, awake but there's no moving or being able to snap out of it. You’re trapped until the episode is over. People see, hear, or feel things. One or all of those things can happen.” Hotch’s mind went back to while the episode was happening. She had clearly been looking at something at the foot of the bed and then at the ceiling. He asked, “Do you see things?” _y/n_ nodded and said, “Yeah.” Aaron could see the discomfort as she thought about it. Aaron wasn’t going to press, but he did wonder what she had seen. His unspoken question was answered by _y/n_, who said, “For me, I… I see a man. He’s large and cloaked in a kind of shadow. Like his body is there but not there. He smiles at me but other than his mouth there’s no face.” _y/n_ swallowed thickly and said, “Normally he’s at the foot of my bed, but sometimes he’s near my face. Tonight he crawled up the wall and looked down at me from the ceiling.” While she spoke about the figure, her voice hitched and Aaron noticed the small sob she was trying to hide. Her description of sleep paralysis sounded horrible. His bouts of insomnia felt like nothing compared to what she described. It was an actual living nightmare. Hotch took a breath and started running a gentle circle on her back with his thumb. He wanted to know more. Like how often does this happen? Or if there’s something that causes these events. But right now he was more concerned about making sure _y/n_ was comfortable and felt safe.

Aaron removed his hand from her back, and this made her look at him more intently. He first acknowledged how frightening that sounded, and he said, “I’m sorry you’ve gone through this. It sounds, scary. Is there anything you do that helps you calm down? Is there anything I can do to help? I could grab you a coffee, or give you space if you need.” _y/n_ gave Hotch one of those small half smiles that she flashed him when he was doing something for her that he didn’t need to exactly. She replied, with a more stable voice, “I, um actually think that coffee might make it worse. Trying to stay up and outlast the feelings doesn’t normally help with anything. But maybe some water would be nice.” Hotch nodded and turned toward the small nightstand on his side of the bed. He grabbed the water bottle that he had taken from dinner. He had only taken a sip or two, and he offered it over to _y/n_ saying, “Is this okay? I just had a sip, but I can get you a new one if you prefer.” _y/n_ chuckled lightly as she unscrewed the cap and took a drink. She really wasn’t worried about germs from Aaron. After a few sips, she put the cap back on and Aaron placed it back on the table. Aaron then asked, “Is there anything else?” _y/n_ continued looking at him and said, “Normally I just grab a weighted blanket and and try and get back to sleep and pray it doesn’t happen again.” The idea that something like this would happen more than once in a night was abhorrent to Hotch. He looked around the room for anything that might act like a weighted blanket even though there wasn’t anything of the kind around. Aaron’s brain came up with an idea and his mouth voiced the thought before he could stop himself. He said, “Maybe I can hold you? It’s not a weighted blanket, but maybe it could help?” There was a silence after the offer was out there. Both Aaron and _y/n_ were a bit surprised. Aaron bit the inside of his mouth at what he had said. He feared that he had crossed a line, and _y/n_ looked at him like she was surprised that he had offered. However, much to Hotch’s relief, she said, “I’d like that, actually.” Aaron nodded and softly replied, “Okay. Do you want me to turn off the lights?” _y/n_ nodded and laid back on the mattress.

Aaron switched off the light and lay flush with the mattress as well. He wasn’t exactly sure how to start what he had offered without it being awkward or uncomfortable. So he started by just taking _y/n_’s hand in the darkness. He gave it a gentle squeeze, and she let out a breath at his touch. His hand trailed up her arm to her bicep where he ran his pointer and middle fingers up and down the area gently. He wanted to ensure that she was okay with this. After a minute of this, _y/n_ softly said, “Aaron, please.” Maybe it was the way he said his first name or the fact that he wanted to provide the comfort that gave him the courage to move his body close to hers. He placed a hand on her hip and asked, “Do you want to face my chest or face the wall?” Her comfort was most important to him. _y/n_ thought for a moment and said, “I’d like the face the wall.” Aaron hummed and positioned himself so his chest was against her back as she turned on her side. With his left arm, he wrapped his arm over her. It rested on her waistline. He didn’t add any pressure, but let the weight of his arm rest on the side of her body. _y/n_ could feel that he was tense; he might even be flexing. She didn’t mention this and after a few minutes, he relaxed like her. When he did this she could fully feel him pressed against her. The soft area of this stomach pressed against her lower back. Before she fell asleep she said, “Thanks Hotch.” With that, she slipped into oblivion.

In the morning it wasn’t odd as they got up. Aaron checked in to see how she was, and _y/n_ said, “I’m alright. I rested pretty well thanks to you. I really appreciate it, Hotch.” Aaron nodded and more nonchalantly than he really felt he said, “I’m just happy that I could help.” _y/n_moved to grab her towel, her work clothes, and her toiletries bag. She stepped into the shower and told JJ good morning. The media liaison was humming some county song behind her privacy curtain and told _y/n_ “Good morning,” as well. _y/n_ and JJ moved to the rec room together. The rest of the team was grabbing breakfast. As soon as Garcia saw _y/n_, she knew something had happened the previous night. The technical analyst and Emily approached _y/n_, and Penelope asked her, “Baby, did something happen? You don’t look well.” _y/n_ shook her head and quietly told her friends, “I had another episode last night. It was a lot worse than the recent ones.” Garcia looked at _y/n_ sympathetically and pulled her into a hug saying, “I’m so sorry, _y/n_. It’s gotta be this place. It’s giving me the heebie-jeebies too.” Aaron watched on as Em, Garcia, and _y/n_ had a quiet conversation near the serving table. He could just hear some of their conversation, and for a moment, he felt left out because _y/n_ hadn’t told him about her sleep paralysis but had clearly let Penelope and Prentiss in on the secret. Aaron realized that immediately that was stupid because the conversation about her sleeping habits didn’t normally just pop up around him. What would she possibly say, “Oh yeah, every now and then a literal sleep demon shows up by my bed, and he doesn’t have a face. Also, I can’t move when it happens. And it could happen anytime I sleep.” Aaron chastised himself and stabbed another bite of eggs onto his fork. At least now he knew about one of the challenges that seemed to haunt _y/n_ outside the job, and he now would do what he could to make her life easier while they were on cases.

The day moved quickly as some leads dropped cold and the pressure was on to get results. There hadn’t been a new attack which indicated that either the unsub was getting scared, or the fact that the team and the workmen being in teams of two and three had stopped them from being able to act. If the pattern of the last two killings heald, the unsub was likely to attack again today. During the afternoon, Spencer and _y/n_ were discussing her theory and the idea that the unsub was impotent. Spencer said, “What if he’s not important at all, but has a pain fetish or something?” _y/n_ looked at Spencer with apprehension, and she replied, “But the impotence matches with the profile. The bat or blunt object is clearly a replacement for the phallus. If the unsub has a pain fetish I think he would take much more time with the victim. Granted in a place like this, there can’t be a lot of time spent on each victim. I’m not sure, now it feels off.” Spencer leaned against the wall and said, “Let’s re-examine that part of the profile in a bit. I have some thoughts about your cabin fever theory.” _y/n_ gave the genius a small smile and said, “Shot. I’m all ears.” What both agents were missing about the first subject of discussion was that it was possible that more than one person was influencing the way the victims were being killed.

It was late, again and Em and _y/n_ were calling it a night. _y/n_ had tried to get to bed before Hotch while they shared the bed. She hoped that if she was asleep when he got back, he would be more comfortable because they wouldn’t have to have any potential awkward ‘good nights’ or shifting around in the bed to try and get comfortable. _y/n_ for one, took what felt like half an hour to find a comfy position and actually get to sleep. The hallway to their room was cloaked in oddly long shadows. For a second Emily thought she heard a dripping sound and looked around for the source of the noise, but she couldn’t see anything from the darkened hall. Emily looked over to _y/n_ and said, “I don’t know about you, but I want to get the fuck off this rig.” _y/n_ nodded in agreement and said, “That gets an Amen from me.” As Prentiss approached her door, she fished for her keys and muttered, “Shit,” under her breath. _y/n_ looked over to Emily and asked, “What is it?” Emily said, “I left my keys on the table.” _y/n_ looked to her friend and then to her own door. It was only ten or so feet away and Em said, “You go to bed. I’ll be fine by myself getting my keys. JJ was planning on heading to bed soon too, so I’ll just walk back with her.” _y/n_ said, “You’re sure?” Prentiss nodded and both women headed their separate ways. Emily moved with determination, wanting to get to bed as quickly as possible.

_y/n_ moved down the hallway and passed the showers. Once she was past the site of the latest victim, a figure emerged from the entrance behind her. _y/n_ wasn’t aware of the man’s presence until he spoke, saying, “Ma’am, you shouldn’t be walking alone.” _y/n_ whipped around and saw the security guard, Joe. _y/n_ suddenly felt a dread build in her stomach, and Joe stepped toward her saying, “Let me walk you to your room at least.” Just as _y/n_ was about to say something, the man lunged at her. His strong hands found their grip on her neck and she choked as he restricted her airway and pushed her harshly against the metal wall. _y/n_ tried to fight the unsub, but her lack of air was making it hard. In an act of desperation, she used her right hand to find the man’s groin and she took his manhood in her hand squeezing the area tightly. Joe removed his hands from her body and said, “Bitch,” as he moved back covering his groin with his hands. _y/n_ tried to catch her breath. She pulled for the gun in her holster with shaking fingers, but Joe was quicker with his nightstick. As he extended the weapon it gave a little swishing sound. Before _y/n_ could fully protect her face with her hands the nightstick made painful contact on the side of her head. _y/n_ reeled, and she saw stars for a second. _y/n_ tried to stay upright, but the pain and confusion had her collapse against the wall. As she crumpled, she could hear Joe say, “How fucking dare you say I’m impotent. You’re going to regret that comment you little bitch.” _y/n_ closed her eyes as she saw the man’s hand holding the weapon raise and lower with considerable force.

Hotch moved down the hallway and stairs that led to the first level of the rig. He was in desperate need of a shower and a distraction. The day had been rough on him. He had had to speak to Obermann about the men suddenly acting different, even with hostility toward the team. They were obviously all on edge, but that didn’t give them a right to badmouth his team. He had also had a very choppy call with Strauss and Mr. Ridgewell. Both were disappointed that he hadn’t found anything yet. Aaron had to explain to Ridgewell specifically how unique a case this was. Aaron wondered why Erin hadn’t told the Commissioner this information before. Was his boss angry with him as well? Making him do this sort of soft groveling as a sort of punishment? To prove that he and the team were valuable? Aaron had also had a long conversation with Garcia about more messages that had been shared from the alleged foreign agents. Hotch was beginning to think that this part of the case was all a ruse by the unsub to distract the team’s time and energy. As Hotch got lower on the stairs, he heard a snapping sound and the small moan of pain that came after a particularly loud cracking sound had his hand on his gun in an instant. Aaron quietly moved down the final steps and he saw the younger security guard leaning over a prone figure that he recognized as _y/n_. Aaron authoritatively said, “I have a gun pointed at the back of your skull. Unless you want your brains decorating these walls, I’d put your hands behind your head and slowly stand.” Unfortunately for Aaron, Joe had heard Hotch’s footsteps and had grabbed his knife, which he kept hidden in his back pocket, and pressed it close to _y/n_’s neck. Joe called back, “I wouldn’t if I were you, Agent Hotchner. I have my knife pressed to your agent's neck. So unless you want her bleeding out from her carotid artery, I’d put down your gun, and kick it toward me.” Aaron clenched his jaw but replied, “Alright. I’m doing it now.” Hotch would never jeopardize a member of his team. The fact that he couldn’t see how hurt _y/n_ was and the fact that she wasn’t moving almost made him sick. He slowly moved his center of gravity down and set his handgun on the cold smooth floor. Aaron pushed the weapon toward Joe. The unsub felt behind himself until his hands found the gun. Joe moved to face Aaron, dropped the knife, and grabbed his nightstick instead. Joe commanded Aaron to raise his hands and put them behind his head. Hotch did as told and when the unsub was a foot away from Aaron, Joe quickly raised his nightstick and hit Aaron on the side of the face. The blow wasn’t well aimed, and it didn’t have as much power as he had used with _y/n_, but it was still enough to incapacitate the FBI agent for a moment. As Hotch slumped against the wall, Joe pushed past him and ran to an external door at the end of the hallway.

After a second, Aaron came back to himself and he clicked on his open communication channel with the team and he said, “The unsub is Joe Pabst. He just attacked _y/n_. He exited the southwest door. The channel came to life as Aaron moved toward _y/n_ on unsteady feet. He collapsed next to _y/n_ and checked her breathing and pulse. It was clear that she was unconscious and battered, but her pulse seemed alright. She seemed to be struggling to breathe due to the trauma on her nose. Aaron couldn’t tell if it was broken or not, but the blood leaking from it and the bruising already there told him that it was hard for her to breathe through it. Thankfully Rossi and Garcia came to his side in a second. Rossi motioned that he would stay with _y/n_ and at seeing this, Aaron got to his feet to pursue the unsub. He listened as Derek, Spencer, and Emily approached the man who had harmed _y/n_. Outside on the slick side of the rig, Aaron fought the wind. He moved up to the top platform and saw Derek and Spencer in a stand-off with the unsub who was on the rigging of the derrick itself. A light shone out, highlighting the unsubs form standing high above the waves. Hotch lined up a shot with the second gun he wore on his left ankle. Just as he was preparing to fire an incapacitating shot, Joe moved to the edge of the small platform, and by some twist of fate, or a simple design flaw, the chain railing slipped from one of its posts, and because Joe was leaning his weight on the barrier, he flailed wildly before plummeting into the choppy sea below. Aaron called Morgan on the secure channel and said, “Go see if you can find Joe. I’ll wake Obermann and let him know what’s just happened.” Derek confirmed Hotch’s directions. As much as Aaron would like the unsub to drown, it was still his job to make sure monsters like Joe faced the full weight of justice if possible.

A half-hour later Aaron was back by _y/n_’s side. Rossi had moved _y/n_ to the rec room and the travel medical evacuation team was en route. _y/n_ hadn’t woken yet and Aaron feared a bad concussion or worse, something like a brain bleed from the head trauma she had received. Aaron also couldn’t deny that he was feeling unwell. The lights were a bit bright for him, but he ignored his own pain to be seated next to _y/n_. When the helicopter came, Rossi insisted that Aaron ride with _y/n_ to the nearest hospital because he might also need medical care. Hotch acquiesced and boarded the helicopter with the paramedics and pilot. The sun was just rising above the horizon line as the chopper moved up and over where the Alaskan sea met the cold, hard land. At the hospital Aaron reluctantly submitted himself to an exam, but he only had thoughts for _y/n_ who was seen a few rooms down.

When _y/n_ woke a few hours later, her head pounded in pain. Even though she was hurting, she could sense that she was somewhere new. Her last memories were of Joe approaching her. As someone near her shifted, she opened her eyes and tried to see through the glare of her blurry vision. Aaron sat up as _y/n_ stirred. His head was lightly bandaged to stop the bleeding from his temple. _y/n_ struggled to say, “It was Joe.” Aaron nodded and said, “Yeah. Joe and Pete, but we can talk about that later. I’m going to call the doctor for you.” As Aaron waited for Dr. Ramirez to come and check in on _y/n_ he looked her over again. Her face was deeply bruised. There were other sites of trauma on her body including a fractured wrist and some bruised ribs. The doctors assumed that she had a grade III concussion due to the fact that she had been unconscious for as long as she had. Hotch could see the pain in her eyes, but even so, she said, “It’s nice to have someone one I really like be beside my bad instead of shadow man.” _y/n_ cringed slightly from the pain and how stupid ‘shadow man,’ sounded to her. She had never named her sleep paralysis demon. She refused to give it an identity. She looked at Aaron who was also a bit damaged. She wanted him to hold her again, but due to the fact that they were in a hospital, and he was her boss, that seemed a bit implausable. So she extended her hand out to him. Aaron took it in both of his hands, and his calloused fingers moved gently over her knuckles and palm. Before she closed her eyes against the brightness of the room, she saw a ghost of a smile on Hotch’s face. It always showed up in the crow's feet by his eyes.

A day and a half later, the team was headed back home. Joe’s body still hadn’t been found in the rough sea. It was possible that it may never be recovered. Aaron was fine with this. Pete, who had influenced Joe had been taken into custody and was awaiting a hearing. The doctors had recommended a three-day leave of absence for Aaron and a week-long recovery period for _y/n_ for both of their healing. Aaron was going to insist on a longer break for _y/n_. And if he was medically forced from the office, that should give the team a bit of a reprieve as well. As the team settled on the jet, Aaron found himself seated next to _y/n_. Discretely, his left hand found its place close to her thigh. The tips of his fingers softly touching _y/n_’s upper leg. _y/n_ seemed to be asleep, and Aaron looked over her face which was bandaging on her nose, crown, and temple. At his touch, _y/n_ shifted her body towards his in her sleep. The part of Aaron that was growing fonder and fonder for _y/n_ contentedly filled his chest. He would have to do some self-reflection once he was home about these feelings. Once his hand was a bit more firmly planted on _y/n_’s leg, Hotch thought about how demons really were real. Either those who showed up unwanted in horrifying waking nightmares, or people like Joe, who had been influenced by the older, isolated, and impotent Pete, who had told his protege to enact violence for him. But as Aaron looked over the dimmed jet cabin at his team --all of whom were asleep except for Garcia and Rossi. Aaron thought of them as his gaze returned to _y/n_. Yes, demons were real, but he was there to take care of them, whatever form they took. And that gave him the strength to keep going.

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just-a-torn-up-masterpiece · 2 years

Text

shades of grey

pov: ur super shit at titles so settle on shit like this

Pairing - Emily Prentiss x Reader

Summary - Emily goes natural and her grey hair is super sexy; inspired by the fact reboot emily is gonna have sexy grey hair

Warnings - smut; semi public sex, daddy emily, fingering, oral, office sex, dom emily, tiny bit of degradation and praise I think that’s it

not intentional but could be read as a part two to this one

(who allowed her to be this fiiiinnneeee)

Emily had briefly mentioned something to you about doing something different with her hair, you knew she was getting bored of the dark colour, even using a less permanent dye in case she decided to change. And she had. You just didn’t quite expect this.

She was a few hours late into work, only telling you that she had an appointment, so the rest of the team just got on with paperwork at your desks.

“Where is your girlfriend this morning, Y/L/N?” Tara teased from opposite you, you rolled your eyes at the glint in her eyes, wishing you’d kept your relationship secret for longer than you had.

“I don’t know, she just said she had an appointment.” You shrugged. “And stop calling her my girlfriend like that.”

“But she is your girlfriend.” JJ poked.

“I know but you say it in such a weird way - don’t be weird about it.”

“You’re being weird about it right now.”

“I am not.” You huffed whilst they just laughed, they always teased you about the way you act all flustered around her and the jokes about her being your boss are painfully common.

“You so are.” Tara laughed.

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am n-”

“Are you guys arguing again?” Emily spoke, walking over to your desks smilingly.

“So that was your appointment.” JJ grinned. “It looks great.”

You turned your chair around to see what she was talking about, coming face to face with Emily and her dye free hair, strands of grey framing her face delicately as she looked at you nervously.

“What do you think?” She smiled, all three just watching you gaze at her and stand to walk over to her.

“It’s fucking perfect, Emily.” You answered, only making her smile grow bigger. “Really, really perfect.” You added as you admired it resting against her shoulders as she gave you the full view.

“Really? You like it? I was a little nervous to go natural, I dunno.” She shrugged shyly.

“Absolutely, it looks amazing. You look hot.”

“Easy, tiger.” Tara laughed

“Oh hush.” Emily chuckled. “Get back to work you two - Y/N, I have some case notes to go over with you.” JJ and Tara shared a look at that while you followed her into her office.

“I hope there aren't really any files.”

“You find it that hot? So hot you can’t even wait until we get home?” She smirked, dropping her bag beside her desk and shrugging off her coat to show off toned arms and shirt sleeves rolled up.

“So what if I do?”

“Come here and show me.” She returned, sitting back in her chair with her legs casually spread and her arms crossed over her chest. She nodded towards her desk when you approached and you took your seat as instructed, swinging your legs slightly under her intense stare. “Show me.”

You knew what she wanted so you began to pull open the buttons of your shirt slowly, letting your fingertips drag over your skin as you did so. Her eyes were hungry and her tongue licked over her lips but she stayed still, waiting, just looking over your body.

“You want more?” You asked, standing to kick your shoes off and undo your trousers, slowly nudging them down your legs. Your mind quickly darted to the fact that the door wasn’t locked but it just added to the growing arousal between your legs, the idea that anybody could walk in.

She swallowed thickly at the sight of you in your underwear and an open shirt, perched on her desk with the growing wet patch between your legs on show for her.

She closed the space between you quickly, hands firm on the desk either side of you as her lips crashed into yours, moving desperately. Her new hair was soft between your fingers where you held her head close to yours, welcoming the desperate force of her tongue pushing into your mouth and the grip she decided to take onto your bare thighs.

She dragged her nails over your thighs down to your knees and back up again, bringing her one hand further up to push two of her fingers onto your clothed cunt, groaning into your mouth at how wet she could feel you already were.

“Daddy got you this wet, huh?” She murmured against your lips. “You really are my little slut aren’t you?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, tilting your head back when she kissed over your neck, sneaking her hand underneath the waistband of your underwear, gathering your slick on her fingertips to rub over your clit. Her movements were firm, teeth biting into your neck as the pleasure built up within you.

You whined when she suddenly pulled her hand away but her fingers pushed themselves past your lips before you even had time to protest. Your lips closed around them, sucking them clean until she was satisfied. Emily’s eyes were dark and her lips were swollen as she watched you, stepping away whilst unbuckling her belt before pulling down her trousers and underwear with a confident smirk at the widening of your eyes.

She sat back in her chair with her forearms resting on the arms. “On your knees. Show me how much you like daddy’s new hair.”

You settled in front of her, peering up through your eyelashes, kissing your way up the inside of her thigh. She hurried along your teasing with a push to the back of your head, pushing you into her centre. You pressed a kiss to her soaked slit before licking through her folds with a hum at her taste, making her sigh above you with a suck to her clit.

You flicked your tongue over her bud with your arms wrapped under her legs to keep her close, nails digging into her flesh as you desperately lapped at her pussy.

“Oh fuck, that’s it princess.” She breathed, hips bucking into your face, her hands gripping onto the arms of her chair.

Knowing how close she was to falling apart already, you pushed two fingers into her with ease, she was soaking around your digits and her hand shot up to her mouth to muffle the moan at the back of her throat at the way they curled inside her perfectly.

You sucked harshly over her aching clit, pumping your fingers into her until she came on your tongue. Her juices dripped down your fingers as her thighs clamped either side of your head and you helped her ride her orgasm through, sucking your own fingers when you could pull away.

She took a few seconds to catch her breath, lust blown eyes looking down at you and your wet lips before she guided you to your feet with her finger and thumb grasping your chin. She pulled you onto her with her thigh slotted between yours, pushing up into your hot centre, wetness soaking your underwear.

She cupped your cheek when she pulled you in for a kiss, tasting herself on your tongue, guiding your hips to grind over her thigh. Your hips rocked against her, making you moan slightly into her mouth at the way it hit your clit. You were hungry for her, so near the edge just from hearing how good you’d made her feel, body hot and aching for her as your lips grazed over her jaw.

“You were so good, baby.” She panted. “Lemme help you.” She added, moving her one hand inside your underwear, quickly thrusting two of her fingers inside of you. She groaned at how wet you were for her, rubbing your throbbing clit with her thumb whilst you pushed aimlessly against her chasing your release.

Small moans fell from you beside her ear, she hissed at your teeth biting into her to muffle the sounds, knowing she was going to be left with a dark mark to admire later. She loved when her princess marked her as your own, she equally loved leaving as many marks over your body as she could - she planned to do this later.

With just another curl of her fingers and a flick at your clit you came with a shuddered breath against her clenching tightly around her fingers with your thighs shaking and your grip tight on her shoulders. You kissed her quickly as your heart beat returned back to normal until a knock sounded at the door, shocking you apart with widened eyes and clumsy movements with you climbing off her.

“Just a minute.” She shouted, pulling her clothes back on as you did the same, fumbling with her belt buckle whilst you struggled with your shirt buttons. She cleared her throat as she pulled the door open, poking her head through it to hide you still getting dressed. “Yes, Garcia?”

“Uh, we have a case.” She answered. “Um, you look a little flushed - is everything okay?”

Emily’s eyes darted behind her to the quiet laughs from JJ and Tara. “Yeah - yes, everything’s fine.”

“Alright, well I’ll see you in a minute then.” She smiled.

“Briefing room in ten.” She shouted to everyone else before turning back to you, pressing her back against the closed door. “That was almost very very bad - don’t laugh.”

“Sorry.” You muttered, pressing your lips together trying not to laugh at the situation but the way she broke into a smile made it too hard.

“This is your fault.” She muttered in faux annoyance.

“Me?! You’re the one with the sexy hair.”

“You look a mess, come here.” She smiled, fixing your shirt and hair, wiping the lipstick she’d left behind on your cheek. You did the same to her, putting a few strands of hair into place properly, eyes widening almost comically at what you saw. “What - what are you smirking at now?”

“Um, do you have makeup in your bag?”

“God, yeah I do. Hurry and cover it for me, love.” She smirked, she was going to punish you for that when you get to the hotel later.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss x reader #bau team #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #jeniffer jareau #derek morgan #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #bau x y/n #bau reader #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #david rossi #penelope garcia

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tennypress · 10 months

Note

Hi! First of all love your writings. second could you pls do a yandere Samuel x fem! reader (with slight mentions of smut) were he becomes even more obsessed after she breaks up with him

Of course my favorite bumblebees!

minors dni

WARNING: kiss and break up, angst, boss x secretary, ex boyfriend, gender neutral reader

“And you don't seem to understand”

You just look at the apartment with many memories you’d shared with him

On the outside he may seem like a gentleman but deep down inside you, you’d wish you did t meet him in the first time. Especially since you saw his actual side other than his “hot rich ceo” demeanor. How you’d wish you’d never stop to apply to that job

You were just a newcomer to OneMCN company to apply as a new beauty and gamer newtuber trying to earn money to support yourself and your family back in the countryside. You’d enter to get interviewed by him

Yeah you were attracted to him, but who wouldn’t? He’s tall, handsome, and rich(everyone Lookism simps type ever)

You enter the office and sat down. He looked through your files, and then you. At first it looked like he was t interested, but in his mind: he was immediately attracted to you, wanted to be your everything. He’d put on that serious cold face and started your interview.

After a while, he tells you that you were hired, you were officially his new secretary. He’d tell you that you start tomorrow, and you were full of glee. You’d thank him and left the building.

You know the next thing people(I know that I sound lazy, but like it’s 4am and I don’t have much to write about 💀, plus this is a one shot :)): you guys grow closer, he’d offer coffee dates, you guys see each other more often, you guys hang out on the weekend, then he’d asked the big question: will you be my one and only. Of course you said yes.

Sure this relationship sounds great, but cmon let’s be honest. This is Sammuel we’re talking about

He’d usually be so cold around you at the office, treating you like his secretary, you’d only respect his wishes by treating him as your boss

But it only got worst a few weeks where he’d lashed out on you, treat you like nothing, he’d ignore you, come home late smelling like alcohol and smoke. Worst of all, there would be situations where he’d harm you for the smallest things: like let’s say you accidentally spilled coffee on his paperwork’s, when you try to apologize he would grab your wrist and yell at you, then would angrily clean up your mess

You knew that this was unhealthy, but he would try to apologize with small gifts to dates where he wouldn’t talk to you.

You knew the sign and eventually would leave. Looking back at his home and left a note

A couple of days were about self care and healing. You’d eventually moved back into your small apartment near the city and eventually went to therapy for it.

You left your job at OneMCN and decided to ask for your classmate Jace for a job at the cafe he worked at. He was hesitant but agreed. You entered your new work environment and worked your hardest

A few months later you’d eventually made enough money to pay rent and send money to your family.

You’d eventually decided to celebrate at a local club and was escatic. You’d danced the night away, and eventually met a nice guy, Byung ho. You’d met him at the club and met him back again at the coffee shop you worked at. You guys eventually hanged out at his place.

While you and him were walking down the street, you both bumped into a familiar tatted man.

He’d just looked at the both of you guys dumbfounded, the look on his face wasn’t looking good. He’d just push Byung out of the way and grabbed your wrist to drag you to your apartment which was conveniently on the way.

He’d just slam the door shut and pushed you against the wall

“Wanna explain this shit to me y/n?” He said while he grabbed your wrist to pin you on the wall

“I left you for good Sammuel, Why come back to me?” You said trying to escape his grasp, but lmao you we’re struggling

“Who said you left me? I didn’t give you any signals who said you can just leave like a rushed car?” He said while his glasses were sliding off his nose bridge while he came closer to you.

You’d managed to kick him just enough for you to push him away, and you just walk away from him

But to your appeal, he just grabbed your wrist slightly, pulling you in into a big embrace

You knew that it was wrong, but it felt sincere.

You just stood there, while he turns you around and kisses you passionately

You’d dint pull back, push him away, or just slap him. You just gave in

The moon shining through your window and how the stars twinkled. You were enjoying the moment.

And that’s how he’d trapped you into your relationship. You’re trap like a fly in a spiderweb

#lookism x reader #x reader #samuel seo #angst

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helenazbmrskai · 2 years

Note

hey

can u write CEO!JK giving ridiculous tasks to assistant!y/n and she has enough and punishes him for it?

Pairing - CEO! Jungkook x Assistant! Reader

Genre - CEO AU, Pinning, Smut, Secret Crush AU

Summary - Mr Jeon to make it up to you for giving you ridiculous tasks he lets you sit in his chair and eats you out on his knees. yes. that's the plot babies

Warnings - y/n yells at kook but they obvi make up later, smut, dom!reader, sub!jungkook, dirty talk, teasing, licking over panties, oral (f), vaginal fingering, mention of masturbation (m), you cum around kookie's face, he also uses his nose to rub your clit, very slight degradation (one sentence only, you call him dumb but that's all), jk likes the taste of your pussy very much

Word Count - (2,1k)

Author note. Hope you like it!

You like to think that you're a very patient person. It's a trait that you got from your mother. It takes a lot for the people around you to rile you up so you're wondering how Jeon Jungkook could do that within five seconds. It must be a new record.

He's your boss so try to refrain from glaring or rolling your eyes at him even when he tells you the most ridiculous task to carry out. You should give him a tight lipped smile and be on your merry way to do what the youngest CEO of the company wishes. But! Enough is enough. It was a shitty day, to begin with. First, you woke up late last night your washing machine broke down so you had no clothes to wear to the office your only option was your old pencil skirt that's way too short for you now to wear and some ugly yellow blouse. Like you said, not your day.

Jungkook checked out your ass when you bent to pick up his pen. The pen which you're sure was not just accidentally dropped.

Getting him his fourth coffee of the day was however the last straw, one more thing and you're bound to blow up.

"Can you get me the-"

"No, get it yourself!" You almost growl at him when he dares to bark another order for you. Yes, you're his assistant but you're not his personal maid that he can just order around. He's way past the bounds of professionalism so why should you care? Especially when you're so ready to put this bratty CEO in his place.

"I'm not your coffee girl or your maid. Only call me if it's of some important matter otherwise I'll be doing my paperwork that I couldn't finish because of your ridiculous orders! I'm not paid to babysit a full grown manchild."

Ok, maybe that was a little too harsh you swear you saw tears gathering behind his eyes. Slamming the door behind you was unintentional too. He did take my words seriously though since you haven't seen even a single hair of his after your outburst.

You hope that you didn't make him cry. If he did you would feel too guilty for yelling at him. He's also the CEO if he cries after his assistant yelled at him this company is in big trouble.

You've been dreading this hour all day after that little outburst in his office but you have to clock out and maybe even wish him good night since you're feeling pretty guilty.

You hear his soft 'come in' after you knock. His eyes go back to his paperwork when he sees it's you. He's looking pretty meek for a CEO. You're both tiptoeing around each other. You ask him if he needs you to look over something else and he tells you in a soft voice that he can take care of the rest.

It's so awkward you want to crawl your eyes out. Fuck. You really owe him an apology.

"I'm sorry Mr Jeon I didn't mean to yell at you. I just..I was having a bad day but it's not an excuse. What I want to say is that I'm sorry and I understand if you want to fire me I'm-"

"What? Fire you? No! That's not what I want at all!" Jungkook looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. You have to admit that he's kinda cute. His tie is loosened around his neck and his hair is messy like he has carded his fingers through it to calm himself down.

"I'm the one who is sorry Miss L/N. I know that you're not my maid and I'm sorry for being so unprofessional. I would like to keep working with you if you...if you would allow me."

You smile at his genuine apology he's usually a sweetheart a little childlike sometimes but he takes his job very seriously and he always asks about your day, your weekend he really pays attention to you and listens when you speak.

"Apology accepted Mr Jeon." Jungkook's grin widens matching your own as the air clears around you. There's still something in your mind that you can't get over the thought of.

"Why did you make me do all that bullshit for you? You're normally not like that. You do your job very diligently it's not like you to ask me to do coffee rounds." His ears visibly turn a hundred shades of pink. The way he avoids making eye contact with you means that he's shy for some reason.

"I-" He stops as soon as he starts but you wait for him patiently to get his thoughts together. "I didn't know how else to get your attention. I'm so sorry I know it's childish of me. Why would you ever want to date a manchild? I'm there are more suitable men out there that-"

"Stop." You raise your hands up to stop him from rumbling further. He said what you think he said?

"Did you try to ask me out on a date all day? Wait a minute. If I get this correctly did you annoy the shit out of me so you could have the opportunity to see me? Correct?"

You groan when he nods his head so innocently. Manchild for sure. You take the time to really look at him though. He's tall handsome and powerful. That's what his business partners see or the people when he's on the top pages of the Forbes.

What people rarely know about him is that he's a very emotional person. He takes a lot of things to heart and tries to keep everyone happy at the company and meet the needs of the people. Wears his heart on his sleeves.

"Well. Will you ask me?" He looks confused for a moment and your eyebrow raises. His eyes grow two sizes bigger when he realises what you're implying.

"W-Will you go on a date w-with me?" Seeing the CEO of the company being a stuttering mess is kinda empowering. You have him in the palm of your hands and you didn't even know about it till this point.

"Sure let's go on a date and see if we could work well together. I go on one condition though." Jungkook tenses but eagerly waits for you to tell him your conditions.

"No more stupid tasks." Now he can tell that you're just pulling his leg. A big smile stretches across his face as he nods like a cute little puppy. Cute.

"Everyone already left though." Your smile grows as the distance between you gets smaller. You only stop when you're directly in front of him. Grabbing the armrests on both sides you turn him to face you fully and your knee brushes up against the space between his thighs nearly missing his cock.

"I think you earned your punishment Mr Jeon." Jungkook gulps it's hot how you call him Mr Jeon but it's clearly you who has the power. He wouldn't mind you taking the lead and that's exactly what you do.

Your gazes are locked on each other, it's quiet at the office so you don't have to be afraid someone will interrupt your fun time. Your hand curls around his tie first before you lean down to claim your boss' lips for the first time.

"Y-Y/N w-we're at the office." Jungkook is the first one to pull away. His lips tell you something else as he longingly licks them as if he could taste your lips on him still.

"Did I give you permission to call my name? CEOs should be smart so why are you being so dumb, baby? Everyone left except for us." Jungkook normally doesn't like to be called dumb but the way you say it doesn't sound like an insult at all. If anything his cock twitches as you speak to him.

N-No, I'm sorry M-Miss L/N." You push his fringe back and plant a small kiss on the middle of his forehead.

"Good boy."

Jungkook preens when you call him a good boy. You fucking knew he would like that.

"Only good boys get to be touched in the CEOs chair. Get on your knees." You raise your brow when he doesn't move but seeing your expression it finally clicks that you're serious. You will really punish him. He didn't know what to think about that but his cock certainly liked the idea of you dominating him when he's normally in such a high position. You're his assistant he should be the one giving you orders.

You push your skirt up as you take a seat where he was with your legs spread wide on his leather seat.

You motion for him with your fingers to get closer and he does without question. The first thing you do is rake your hands through his hair gripping the roots at the back of his head pulling him closer to your core. Your white panties are in his line of vision and he swears he can see a small damp spot on it in the middle.

"Go on. Show me how sorry you are." You give his hair a tentative tug his lower lip is between his teeth to keep his noises to a minimum. Jungkooks look up at you from his kneeling position with half lidded eyes before he licks his lips and gives your panties a playful lap. Your whole body shudders when you feel his tongue roll around your clothed core dampening your white panties with his spit until it's sticking to you like a second skin. Faintly but he could taste your natural essence you're so sweet he would like to get a real taste now but he has to be patient. You'll reward him if he's good enough.

With renewed motivation, he starts licking and sucking pretending that it's your bare cunt rather than the barrier of fabric that hides you from him. Going lower with his flat tongue his nose nudges the hood of your clit that gets a gasp out of you. Liking your reaction he rubs his nose against your swollen nub repeatedly while his tongue continues to lick where he can reach you. Your sighs are getting louder encouraging him to keep going. Seeing how eager he is to please you, you momentarily force his head to back away a little just enough so you can hook one finger at the crotch of your panties and pull it aside.

Seeing your cunt for the first time makes a loud moan reverberate through his chest he doesn't waste much time admiring your glistening folds he's going mad for a taste and a taste he gets. The lewd sounds of him slurping up your juices makes new gushes of arousal greet his mouth and he tries to get it all drinking you up.

His nose finds your clit again that you appreciate with a small tug of his hair his moans shooting more pleasure through your core tightening around nothing.

"I'll cum soon. Soak your face with my cum and you'll drink it all like a good boy right?" Jungkook could only nod his head slightly, never faltering his tongue's movements licking you throughoutly until your legs start shaking around his shoulders.

The moment his long fingers thrust into your core your walls tighten around the digits, you cum around them with a loud moan. Jungkook whines against your pussy when you release his lips puckering as he tries to catch every drop. You smell and taste amazing. He might become obsessed.

He thinks his punishment is over but it's just only started. You deny him when he asks you to fuck him. You only offer to watch how he makes himself cum with his hands around his cock your name rolling off his tongue as you lick some of the semen that you get with your pointer finger from his stomach. You're such a tease but he likes it. He likes his punishment. He might do it again.

#sub jungkook #bts smut #bts fanfiction #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook fic #sub bts #ceo!bts #ceo!jungkook #dom reader

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simpingcorner · 1 year

Text

Daughter of the shadows Ch. 5

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: subtle mention of human tr*****, Non-canon events(?), bittersweet goodbye,not proofread, let me know if I forgot something.

Author's Note: Fifth chapter to my Grishaverse fanfic. I know Inej canonically leaves after the events of Crooked Kingdom, or at the end of season two on the show. But trust me it’ll make sense in the future, please don’t be mad at me.

Also sorry for the late update, I was celebrating Easter with my family.

A reminder this is insipred by my SoC DR so it’ll follow both the books and the show plotlines, there will be changes to the canon characters and their storylines, it’s also a Kaz Brekker x OC. | English isn’t my first language so please bear with me and tell me if there’s something wrong. I hope you like it.

all rights to leigh bardugo, i only owny liith and her backstory (other ocs will be introduced later)

Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3 - Ch. 4 - Ch. 6

CHAPTER 5

LILITH

It had been a few weeks since she had been wounded, the brunette knew Kaz needed her, though he would never admit it.

The usual dangerous and violent jobs that had become a daily part of her life had been entrusted to Inej, leaving Lilith to guard the door of the Crow Club, the bar of the club or simply to sort out paperwork in the boss's office.

The late autumn sun woke her as it filtered through the window above her, the enforced rest and sedentary work that had filled the last few weeks had allowed the girl's wound to heal leaving only a white scar.

Lilith looked at herself in the mirror, her body like a map, a pale canvas covered in even paler lines, the scar that cut across her lips was white in contrast to the red of her lipstick, the numerous scars on her arms that cut across the two tattoos reminded her of some of the worst moments of her life, the scar on her side was just an addition to her story, something to be proud of, something to remind her of how strong she was and how many nightmares she had woken up from stronger than before.

She wore a black sweatshirt covering her story; sure she was proud of every single scar she had on her body, but she wouldn't show them to anyone, they were her past, her story, her life, her memories and no one else's, she didn't demand anyone's pity and she knew it would come if she showed them.

She covered her right hand with the leather glove, secured the knives in their sheaths, feeling the heat in the handles before leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

The corridors were silent, her colleagues' rooms were closed, occupied by Dregs either fast asleep or busy enjoying their morning off; she descended the last few steps, the room in front of her, usually full and noisy was empty and quiet, the only people in the room were the younger Dregs who did not yet have the privilege of Sunday off.

"Dirix remember to clean under the table in the council room." Said Lilith looking at the younger one from the stairs, "I don't envy you Dir, at least you didn't witness the scene though." yelled Brawen from behind the counter, "Brawen the toilets on the first floor need to be cleaned." said Lilith to her with a half smile, "But I cleaned them last week, today was supposed to be Pim's turn." complained the blonde walking towards the storage room, "Pim is running errands for Specht." explained Lilith simply before walking out the door leaving the room behind.

The salty air filled her nostrils as Lilith sat on the dock of the seventh harbour, the only abandoned harbour, she fixed her gaze on the sea ahead, the blurry shadow of Hellgate in the distance ready to remind her where she would be sent if they found out who she was, what she had done to survive and how she had come to Ketterdam.

Somewhere across the expanse of water her family was looking for her, she could feel it, she knew they would never stop looking for her, but she knew she could not return to them.

"We will see each other again soon." A man's voice rang like an echo in the girl's mind, she could not remember his face, every detail of the man had disappeared from her memory, every detail except the last sentence addressed to her. It was a promise, he had promised her that they would see each other again, that they would be together again, but years had passed and that promise had been broken.

She could feel his hand gently caressing her cheek, a pure cheek, porcelain white skin marred only by tiny mahogany flecks, tears had overcome the child's resistance and fell freely onto her white cheeks, the man's thumb wiped them away as a father wipes away a daughter's.

The man's calloused but gentle hand brought her back to that day, she had left everything behind, forgetting who she was, hiding who she had been, becoming yet another soul lost to the corruption of society and the violence of the world she lived in. Everything she had had during her childhood, everything she had studied, everything she had been taught was now something Lilith would never want to talk about, she had discovered the truth too late to continue living the way she had grown up, too soon to be able to change her future and that of others.

"We will see each other again soon." Whispered Lilith to the sea, the promise echoed on the waves of the sea before disappearing into the horizon.

Her footsteps echoed before her feet touched the dock, the girl's gaze was fixed on the blue expanse before her, in the distance a few ships could be seen, she could not see who was working on them but part of her knew that one of those ships was the one that had brought her to that city, that had brought Inej, Brawen, Pim and hundreds of other kids to that city forgotten by the Saints.

"Will you feed my crows?" Inej asked as she sat down next to Lilith, her legs crossed in front of her, the handles of the daggers glistened in the afternoon sun, Lilith's gaze shifted from the sea to the Suli beside her, the brunette knew she was beautiful, that she had all the qualities a boy could ever want in a mate, but not only did she not care about boys, sure she had had her experiences but she would never want to feel trapped in someone else's shadow, she had decided to be free, to choose herself, her heart had no place for another person, but all the confidence she had disappeared the moment Inej entered the room, her optimism, her determination, her faith, everything about the girl made Lilith wonder if she was enough.

The sun shone on the Suli's caramel skin, her black hair was perfectly arranged in a ponytail, even with the wind blowing in from the sea it didn't move, her brown eyes shimmered reflecting the sea water below, her lips slightly open to inhale the salty air were soft, a brilliant colour without the need for chemical or grisha aids.

"Can I count on you?" The Suli asked again, shifting her gaze to the younger one, "Why can't you?" the brunette asked, "Because I don't know when I'll be back." "You'll come back from where?" "Kaz finished paying Tante Helleen..." "You're free..." "And he found a boat, not as big as those, but big enough to let me set sail with a small crew." "When do you leave?" "Tonight, after the eleventh bell." "How long have you known?" "A few weeks, just long enough to find the boat and crew, I wanted to tell you but with everything that's happened I didn't want to make you feel worse." Lilith smiled at the Suli, she knew this moment would come from the moment she had met her, it shouldn't have been a surprise and yet the brunette was at a loss for words, Inej had been the first girl she had met in Ketterdam, since the first time they met she had been the person Lilith had shared the most with and she knew she would miss her.

"I will feed them, don't worry. Promise me one thing, kill the bastards who brought us here for me." "I will make them pay." Inej said, smiling before hugging Lilith.

They both knew Inej would leave without saying goodbye to anyone and Lilith would be too busy with the Crow Club to greet her as she would have liked, but sitting there, legs dangling, hands intertwined, eyes fixed on the horizon and daggers at the ready was what they needed, something familiar and habitual before the change Inej's departure would bring.

"Inej." Lilith broke the silence by moving her hand from her friend's and bringing it towards the sheath attached to her thigh, pulling out a knife and handing it to the Suli, "I want you to have it, a reminder that you will always have someone to return to here." Inej studied the dagger, the black handle had red inserts extending to the blade, a design unknown to Inej covered part of the blade, "Lils..." "Please remember me when you use it." "I will.” The older girl brought the dagger towards her belt drawing one of her own before securing it in it, "Sankta Lizabeta, I know you do not follow faith but we know we both could use their help and blessing.” The dagger was light in Lilith's hands, lighter than her own, she knew why and she knew that the one she had given to Inej had been forged from the same metal, while the others had been forged especially for her, the handle was white, contrasting with the black blade.

The two girls remained on the dock until the sun went down, in silence, each lost in their own minds, until the eighth bell rang, their steps were silent, their movements almost imperceptible, "Don't die." Said Lilith to Suli hugging her, "Don’t perish." replied Inej breaking the embrace and walking towards the harbour.

Towards her boat.

Towards her future.

Tag list: @awkwardbean4337 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

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whats-rambled-rambled · 2 years

Text

Posterity - part 3

Neil x gn!Reader

Chapter 3: Confidant

(see chapter 2, 1)

summary: one of the teams gets caught in an ambush, and you have to deal with the aftermath

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of death and grief

author’s note: would you look at that, it took me 3 chapters to get to proper angst! I think nobody is surprised at this point. But that seemed like such a vital part of the Reader’s job to cover, and it had to be done at one point or another.

✨hurt/comfort✨

3,8k words

The song for this chapter is Blakey - Confidant

Your feedback warms my heart and keeps me going, I’m so grateful to have you all around.

Enjoy! And as always - let me know what you think?

--------

taglist: @hollandorks @neilsgirl91 @thecraziestcrayon @sunnyitwillbe @eravanaaaah @blue-aconite @mcrmarvelloki

-----

“Posterity, this is Jenkins. We’re fucked. I repeat - we’re fucked.”

“Understood, sending the Cavalry to your location –”

“NO! Don’t....we’re already dead. Just tell the others about the ambush. This place is rigged and crawling with antags.”

“Copy. Help is on the way, Agent, sit tight. Are you hurt? ”

“Walked straight into this… ah shit. Yeah, got hit pretty bad.”

“Hold on just a little while longer.”

“No need, Operator. T’was pleasure, guys. Come here you motherfu-...”

“Agent…?”

“...”

Come in, Agent.”

“...”

“Agent Jenkins, are you there?”

“...”

“...goddamnit.”

—

The office was quiet. Empty. It was better that way, you couldn’t imagine going through this part of the job with an audience of any kind.

Of course, it was not the first time it had happened. Sometimes, there wasn’t much you could do, and even having the full medical team dispatched with the backup was not enough to save everyone.

You sighed, opening another file.

Most operators went through it at some point in their careers. Multiple points, most likely.

Everyone coped with it in their own way. Some people took a day off. Some went straight to the nearest bar as soon as they clocked out. You? You always asked for another shift, to be the one to process the paperwork. It seemed only fair.

The first time someone died on your call… it had been rough. As in throwing up in the bathroom and sobbing for a solid quarter rough. That was how your boss had found you, then took you to his office and talked you through it, enough to calm you down so you hadn’t quit on him right there and then.

You couldn’t say it’d gotten easier. Could it ever? You’d built walls to protect yourself. You’d learned to keep your distance. You’d focused on the things you were still able to do. On the bigger picture. But even then, when you were left alone in the office with the fallen agents looking at you from your screen, there was an ache in your chest, making you struggle to take a deeper breath.

Another timeline. Not too complicated - must have belonged to a rookie.

That was another kind of pain. Every one of those people had their whole future ahead of them, but those wide-eyed newlings always had so much light in them.

It was a rare thing to see it shining bright in someone after a few years spent in the field.

You glanced at your phone.

It was persistently silent.

You hadn’t heard from Neil, aside from the calls during business hours. The requests kept on coming with the usual cheeky politeness, and you were glad nothing had changed after that party.

One little thing had, however.

You caught yourself missing his voice when you hadn’t heard from him for too long.

Even more reasons to be grateful that he respected your boundaries, right?

Everything was in order. You closed the loop, added all the needed annotations, and changed the status of the operative to KIA.

Next file.

You read the name on the screen and your palms got sweaty. You chewed on your lip, trying to level your shallow breath. The shots rang in your ears again. And that scream, the last cry of a man going out with guns blazing. Hellbent on taking down with him as many antagonists as possible.

Of course, you remembered his first call. How he stuttered nervously, cursing every other word, and then solemnly apologized for it. The confidence gained over the next months reflected in his record as he’d earned a leadership position in his own squad. He made sure to mention it during his next call, and you couldn’t help but feel a little proud.

“T’was pleasure, guys.”

You wiped a trembling hand through your face and exhaled slowly. The gnawing in your chest was becoming unbearable.

Maybe that was why, against your better judgment, you grabbed your phone.

The reason kicked back in the second you heard the line ringing, but as you were about to hang up, you heard a sleepy voice:

“Are you really calling or am I still dreaming?”

You cringed and rewarded your stupidity with a hearty facepalm. What the hell were you doing?

“Oh god, I woke you–- I’m sorry, I don’t even know what time it is.” A wave of embarrassment tangled both your thoughts and your tongue. “It-it’s nothing, go back to sleep.”

“No, no, no, it’s okay. Just something new.” Neil grunted lightly. “What’s going on?”

You drew a deep breath, then let it out with a barely audible shudder.

“This kind of day, huh?” His sad chuckle made the tip of your nose tingle, even more so when you heard the softness in his voice as he urged you gently, “Talk to me. What happened?”

“You heard about Malmö?” you asked, hoping you wouldn’t be the one to deliver the news.

“Yeah, I spoke to Ives a couple hours ago. Six of ours down?”

You swallowed with effort.

“It’s eight now.”

“Jesus,” he sighed breathlessly.

“I was on a call with a guy from that team.” You frowned at yourself. He deserved more than a nameless mention. “With Jenkins.” Better. Shifting in your seat, you continued, pushing out one strained word after another. “Now I have paperwork to process and I’m closing all the loops– wait, you know about the loops?”

“May have an idea, but tell me more.”

“The numbers you give us when you log in, right? Imagine them put onto a giant timeline.” You glanced at your screen, at Jenkins’ one already loaded up. “That’s how we keep an eye on you, we can check if the time loop you entered has closed properly, or if you are still in the middle of one. It’s more complicated, but also not as much?” A nervous laugh escaped your lips when you realized you were rambling, as you always did when it came to aspects of the job you were quite fascinated with. “It would be easier to show you. I think you’d appreciate the design, it’s pretty neat.”

“Sounds like it.”

There was a hint of a smile hiding in Neil’s tone, and it was enough to give you the strength to carry on into the more difficult part.

“Anyway, aside from the calls, requests, and routine checks on agents with long inactivity in the system, I’m also responsible for updating the files. When something happens…,” - you forced another deep breath in - “that means double-checking the loops and a lot of time spent looking at their timelines. Seeing their journeys, from the very start… It’s never easy.”

Neil hummed sympathetically. “I can imagine. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. It hurts, even if I only knew them as voices in my headphones.” You sighed, dropping your gaze again. “It’s hard not to get attached to people.”

“Oh.”

The sudden realization in the expression curled a corner of your mouth into a sad smirk. “You know where I’m going with this, huh?”

“Possibly.” He weighed his words. “That’s why you keep us at arm's length?”

You scoffed softly. “That’s why I try.”

“And not calling us by our names? Part of it, too?” he said and the curious notes in his tone suggested he’d been sitting on this thought for a while. “It’s not the protocol, I checked.”

You shook your head, not so surprised he’d picked on that, too. He was perceptive, he had to be in his profession.

“It’s not, you’re right.”

“Hm.”

“Doesn’t make sense to you?” you asked with quiet resignation. You wouldn’t blame him if it didn’t. Although you weren’t sure if you had it in you to defend yourself. Not today. Not against him.

Fortunately, you didn’t have to.

“No, I understand why you do it, but…” He hesitated, and you cut in:

“But you don’t approve.”

He smacked his tongue and stifled a sigh. “That’s not it.”

Suddenly, you realized he was holding back an opinion, mindful not to overstep.

“What is it then?” To soothe his apprehension, you let a shade of smile into your voice “Make your case.”

“Thank you, your honor,” said Neil, tongue-in-cheek. Then, it was his turn to take a deeper breath, as if he was grounding himself, preparing to share something more personal. “I know how it feels to lose someone you care about. The emptiness that comes with it. Almost physical pain that follows.” He faltered, lost in a memory for a short while, then continued more softly, “It’s scary. Hence the need to protect yourself from it. Especially with the certain danger written into our job. I understand. Only, at the same time… the world can be a shitty place, and having people around, those who get the metaphorical it...who get you.. not only makes life easier. It makes it all that better.”

You sighed and propped the forehead on your knuckles, blankly staring down.

“I know.”

A short, knowing hum. “But it’s not enough to outweigh the possible pain, because what if it ends?”

You tightened the grip on your phone as the lump in your throat grew bigger.

“Exactly.”

“It doesn’t take all those things away from you. What’s happened’s happened. And it’s yours, forever. All you got to experience together, all those little moments you shared, the emotions that warmed you whenever you needed. They stay. Even if the person is no longer with you.”

A tear plopped on the desk and you wiped it with your sleeve, then squeezed your eyes shut, swallowing with effort.

Meanwhile, Neil continued, and every quiet sentence carried immense compassion and warmth. “I know it hurts. Life’s short, but that’s also what makes it all worth it. You deserve to be happy.” He paused for a bit, then added, ��That can also mean playing it safe.” He chuckled lightly. “The choice is yours. And I rest my case.”

The last remark made you laugh, but the sound came out with a sob. “Damn, I’m sorry,” you sniffled, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “I hear you, yeah.”

“Are you okay?”

There was nothing but concern on the other end of the line, and your heart clenched painfully.

“I am. Hit close to home, that’s all.” You frowned and sighed, a little embarrassed. “I like the way you look at it.”

You really did. Although, you weren’t quite sure you would be able to rewire yourself like that. Even if you really wanted to.

“Just give it a thought, okay? Nothing more.”

That you could do. “I will, I promise,” you said, lips curling in a gentle smile. “Thank you for this. And for letting me vent.”

“Of course. Anytime.” There was this light in his words again, and you knew he really meant it. “Are you going home soon?”

Looking back at your screen, you quickly went over the tasks on your to-do list. “I have two operatives left to…debrief. Gonna take a while.” You heard a stifled grunt as if Neil was stretching and was trying not to let it show, and it made you remember the start of your conversation. And made you very self-conscious because of it. “I’m sorry, I’m keeping you awake, go back to bed.”

“I am in bed,” he said, all smug about it. “And I don’t mind.”

The image in your head, complimented by the ever so slight switch in his tone, suddenly made you flustered. Heat crept up your cheeks as you cleared your throat.

“I’d love to keep chatting then, but I should really get back to work.” Saying it aloud brought back the heaviness to your shoulders. However, there was enough calmness inside you now, as if some of the load had dissolved once you’d shared it, and you were ready to face the task again.

“It was great to hear your voice.”

You wanted to point out that it hadn’t been that long since your last talk, but that was not what he had in mind. The implication resonated deeply, and you could only say, “Yours too.”

The silence that fell was loaded, but not for too long. Neil was first to break the spell, audibly cracking up at something.

“What is it?”

“I’m sorry, I was waiting for you to call me agent again.”

Oh. You snickered, shaking your head.

“It got stuck in my throat, believe it or not.”

“We could stick to darling if you'd like."

A grin brightened your face as you scoffed in disbelief. "You think it's less personal than a name?"

"I think it can be whatever we need it to be.” You could almost picture him shrugging lightly, with those playful sparks shining in his eyes. "All words are made up, anyway."

“Sure,” you snorted, unable to find a counter to that.

“No pressure. I’m happy you called.”

“Me too,” you sighed softly, the warmth slowly spreading through your chest. “Thanks again and good night…darling.”

“Blimey.” No teasing. No mocking. Pure amusement. And something else, you couldn’t quite figure out yet. “Take care, darling. Good night.”

It wasn’t one if you looked at it as a whole.

The one part that was, however, was enough to carry you through the rest of it. Through the paperwork, and through saying goodbye to the agents.

Because for the first time in years, you allowed yourself to grieve.

Over the people. Over the things that had been. Over the ones that could have been.

And over those that would never be.

—

That extra shift meant entering another day in some sort of zombie mode.

The exhaustion from the lack of sleep amplified the emotional fatigue, putting you in a nice, numb state, and letting you sail through the first few hours of work without too much damage. It wasn’t zen, no, not with that hollow feeling still present inside. But you knew it would pass, eventually, and being able to jump back into routine activities would only help with that.

The team knew the drill. Business as usual.

One call. A couple of reports. A bit of research. Five answered messages. Another call.

Time went by, and soon you were off on a break, grabbing a quick lunch in a canteen.

The elevator opened with a quiet ping, and you went into the corridor leading to the office, already juggling through the possible solutions to one of the pending requests in your mind. Then, you noticed a figure in a familiar dark navy overcoat and you stopped, any thought process ceasing instantly as well.

Perhaps it was easy to forget you were actually working together, like– physically, occasionally in the same building, even.

All because meeting any operative on your floor was highly improbable.

And it bordered on the security breach.

That was definitely why your heart was beating so fast all of the sudden. No other reason.

Neil was standing right next to your door, a reusable cup in one hand, a phone in the other, looking as if was battling with himself over something.

“Are you lost, darling?” you asked, squinting suspiciously, incapable of hiding a smile already dangling in a corner of your mouth.

He found your gaze, bewildered, but quickly schooled his features and grinned at you.

“Not anymore,” he said and slid the phone into his pocket as you made your way to him. There was a fleeting moment of hesitation when both of you wondered what was the greeting protocol in the current state of affairs, but it took the smallest cue from him and you walked straight into his arms.

The hug was tight. Warm. Bringing back the memories. Overriding reason.

That was why you had to pull away, even though you wanted nothing more but to lose yourself in his embrace for a while longer.

Neil seemed a little more tired than the last time you’d seen him. Messy hair was his default, apparently, as well as a five o’clock shadow, but the faint dark circles under his eyes were something new, and you pondered if that was the lack of sleep caused by your late-night conversation, or the strain of his own duties taking a toll on him. What didn’t change, however, was the light shining in the blue irises, and a playful smile dancing on his lips, bound to prompt one of your own.

“What are you doing here?”

“They called us in for some drills, so I was around.” His fingers glided down your forearm, almost making your breath hitch. A shade of concern clouded his expression and he searched your face, then added quietly, “I wanted to check if you’re okay. How are you feeling?”

You blinked a few times, slightly shaking your head to dismiss his worries sooner than you were able to collect your thoughts.

“I’m fine. Or better, at least.” Choking out a small laugh, you met the blue eyes again, boring into you attentively, consistently, not mindful of the blonde strands falling into them. “I’ll be alright,” you said softly. Of course you were gonna be alright. Things happened, over and over again, and if you hadn’t been able to handle it, you wouldn’t have been cut out for the job. And you were. As you held his gaze, you sent him a reassuring smile, pouring all your confidence into it. “Thank you for checking on me, though. I appreciate it.”

Neil gave you a small nod, visibly relieved. “Don’t mention it.” He moved his tongue across his lips, then nibbled on the bottom one, glancing over your shoulder into the corridor as the elevator rumbled, fortunately moving past your floor. “I don’t wanna keep you any longer. Besides,“ - a roguish smile curved his mouth - “I might not have a hall pass.”

But before you could lecture him on security measures, Neil took your hand and put the cup in it, sneaking something resembling a folded piece of paper into your grasp.

“What is this?”

“A little pick-me-up,” he said and shrugged, then tilted his head. “Fruity, on the sour side, right?” You gaped at him, utterly perplexed, and he snickered at the shock painted across your face. “No vodka this time, sadly.” He sighed, then patted your arm. “Have a nice day, darling.”

You managed to choke out - “Yeah, you too,” - tightening hold on the cup while he marched towards the elevator, unwilling to take his chances for much longer.

Smart move, and yet, there was a pang near your heart as you watched him walk away.

You were really that tired, huh?

With a hand on the doorknob, you glanced at him one last time. Just as Neil looked over his shoulder.

He met your eyes and smiled softly.

Goddamnit.

You chewed on your lip, desperate to stop the flush threatening to creep up your face, then took a deep breath and entered the office.

The door clicked behind you and as you went to your desk, Alex watched you like a hawk.

“Thirsty?” they asked casually, but with a mocking gimmer clearly visible in their dark eyes.

There was no way in hell they’d heard anything. Yet, your heart pounded heavily, as if you’d been caught on something inappropriate.

You arched a brow and sent them a shrug.

“Heating season, you know how it is.”

“Uh-huh.”

You fell on your chair and took a sip from the cup.

Tea. With raspberry juice, orange slices, ginger, and cloves. Sweet, but not overbearingly, with a touch of spice, definitely leaning into its sour notes. Hot and comforting. Homely.

You closed your eyes and allowed the warmth to spread through you.

A pick-me-up, indeed.

What about that paper tucked in your palm, though?

You unfolded it and your confused frown only deepened.

An envelope. An empty one, to be precise.

As you checked the other side and read a single word written on it, a loud snort escaped you, and you hid your face in your palms, trying to muffle a hysterical laugh rising in your throat.

Strings.

—-

The end of your shift couldn’t come fast enough. Your fingers were itching, and it took some intense reasoning from your brain not to call him immediately after leaving the building.

For the second time in 24 hours? Come on, that wouldn’t be wise. On so many levels.

On the other hand, it would’ve been rude not to thank him for that tea. And you couldn’t exactly do that during his next request call, could you?

Why not? It was doable.

Without raising suspicion? Alex had already been smirking at you after your little giggling fit.

Asking for trouble, nothing more.

Maybe it was. Definitely it was. And yet–

Back and forth, all the way home. The inner dispute ended with the conclusion that you were tired, and you needed rest, first and foremost, because the emotions running loose like that were not helping anyone.

The Universe solved your headache itself, and just as you crossed your apartment's threshold, your phone buzzed with a message.

//Was it balanced to your liking?//

It was easier to call him back since you were in the middle of taking off your outdoor clothes.

Neil picked up straight away.

“It was perfect, thank you,” you said right on the beat. ” Why, you made it yourself?”

“That’s classified, I’m afraid.”

You scoffed at a sly grin tainting his tone. “Understood. No strings attached though, huh?”

“I knew you’d get it,” he hummed with satisfaction, then hesitated and sighed, finally landing on a more serious note. “I’ve been thinking about our last talk. When I said no pressure, I meant it.” A bated chuckle sneaked between the words, now soft and warm and ringing with care that made your heart squeeze with fondness. “We don’t have to dance. Or do whatever else you’re not comfortable with, for that matter. But I’m here if you need anything. Anytime. Simple as that.”

“It means a lot, really.” You couldn’t find words to express how much it did. It was overwhelming, but at the same time calming; swirling a lot of different emotions inside you that you didn’t know how to process. It had to wait, however, because you had an offer to reciprocate. “Same goes to you, darling. I’m always a phone call away.”

“I’ll remember that. Thank you.”

Suddenly, there was that inkling again, and you needed to ask.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Me?” That clearly caught him off-guard. “Yeah, why?”

“I don’t know, you seemed a bit tired today.” Probably wasn’t the nicest thing to say, and as you realized that, you winced slightly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to--”

“No, it’s alright,” he said, the initial puzzlement already wearing off. “I’m okay. Permanently jet-lagged, but okay.” He let out a small laugh. “Thanks for asking. Was it the habit kicking in?”

��Maybe.” Or maybe you just cared, more than you’d like to admit. “Go get some rest.”

“You too, darling. Talk to you soon?”

You smiled hearing the hopeful notes in the question.

“Naturally.”

That was it. That was the word.

Because everything came just like that with him.

And everything felt like that when it came to him.

Even more so.

It felt undeniably right.

(next chapter ->)

#neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil tenet fanfiction #neil tenet imagine #neil tenet x you #tenet fanfiction #robert pattinson #posterity

93 notes · View notes

ilycorisradiata · 2 years

Note

Hi there! I really enjoy your writing for male/transmasc readers, could I plz request something with Nanami Kento and a transmasc reader that loves being called baby boy? 👉👈 could be NSFW or SFW, whichever your preference is! I'm just a simp for nanami 😅

waves

ಌ waves: nanami x transmasc!reader

ಌ theme: nanami finds out your likes, and he uses them to his full potential after you have a rough last hour or two at work

ಌ cw: 18+ NSFW, transmasc reader, top!nanami bottom!reader, clit referred to as a cock, no trans body anatomy really mentioned other than scars, no pronouns only pet names like baby boy and good boy, massage turns into something more, oral (reader receiving), fingering, use of restraints, nanami being rough for the first time but ends up being real sweet by the end, solo read + solo edited, cross-posted on ao3

ಌ wc: 3.4K

ಌ notes: hi there ! thank you for reading my stuff and enjoying them :D i hope this is what you were hoping for, thank you for requesting<33 thank you all so much for 200+ followers as well !

“Have this done by tonight, leave it on my desk when you’re finished.” A big pile of paperwork is slammed to the side of you, and you look up to see your manager smirking before walking away. You grit your teeth, looking at the time and then looking at the pile he left you. Sighing, you planned to have such a nice evening with Nanami… And now all you’re probably going to do was complain about your manager for dumping work on you one hour before he was meant to pick you up. Mumbling insults about your boss under your breath, you decide to get this out of the way. Your own work wasn’t as important, it could be picked up the next working day. Like, of course your boss picks Friday as the day to be an asshole huh? When you have the weekend off and the only weekend that matched up with Nanami? You were seething. It was like this manager could detect when you were most excited, at this point he may as well cock block you from Nanami himself.

Of course, everything he gave you was easy enough; it was more the amount he gave you. What you and your manager seen as difficult was totally different, and for some reason he tried to give you difficult tasks, but everything was pretty straightforward. You texted Nanami about how you might be a little late, how your manager gave you extra work before he took off. Nanami always stayed outside your building regardless, not minding the fact he had to wait for you. Shuffling through the paperwork, you sigh at the sheer amount he’d given you. Your shoulders were already killing you from working overtime this whole week, and of course he just had to top it off with useless things that didn’t actually need to be done tonight. You role your shoulders, ready to get everything finished in time for you to clock out.

It took you longer than you thought, it being 30 minutes after you were hoping to leave and meet up with Nanami downstairs. The cleaners were coming up onto your floor and they noticed that the light was still on when you were tidying your stuff into your bag, and they came and asked if you were doing overtime. You say yes, but that you are leaving now so that they can start working on cleaning the office. Thanking them and wishing them a good weekend, you make your way out of the office. Texting Nanami again to tell him you were making your way out, placing your phone back into your bag. Rolling your shoulders, you could feel how stiff you were from sitting down all this time, trying to finish things for today before the weekend. You press the button on the elevator, still mad that your manager did that but now you were getting to see Nanami, and that made your night 100 times better. With a ding, the elevator opens, and you step inside. You wouldn’t admit to Nanami how furiously you pressed the ‘ground floor’ button over and over, desperately just wanting to see him. When it did finally get to the ground floor, you saw Nanami waiting outside of his car and looking up to the night sky. You try not to run to him… But of course, this fails, because you’re beelining for his arms. He hears your fast footsteps, and he instinctively stands away from his car whilst opening his arms for you. Launching yourself into him, he's knocked back with an ‘oof’ escaping from him.

“Did you miss me?” You muffle into his chest, and you hear the rumbling of his laugh. Pulling you away from him, he gives you a small smile.

“Always.” Moving to open the passenger side door, he beckons you in and you gladly get in, with him shutting the door after you. He walks around to the driver’s side, getting in and shutting the door. He takes your bag from you, placing it behind you both next to his. When he comes back, he’s quick to lean over and buckle you in, leaving a quick peck on your cheek before buckling himself in. He starts his car and asks about what your manager had given you last minute. Of course, this starts your complaints, how your manager only does this when he realises how good of a mood you are in and how he does it before you have to leave every single time. At a stop light, you arch your back trying to crack it, and Nanami can’t help but look.

“It doesn’t help that it feels like there’s a massive weight on my shoulders, him dumping work on me made me feel worse.” Nanami hums along to your complaints, smiling.

“Maybe a bath when we get into my apartment would be best, baby boy.” That pet name just now gave you whiplash, because Nanami had never called you this before. Plus, it was your favourite thing to be called, so how he knew this didn’t click, at least not now anyway. He looks at you like he had said something wrong just now, but you wave it off that you like being called that and it just took you aback that he said that. You both chat idly all the way to his apartment, and honestly that bath couldn’t come any sooner.

Opening the door for you, even with both bags in his hand, he leads you into his apartment. You rush to the bath, calling out behind you that you were going in. He leaves your bag where you didn’t shut the door, as well as leaving one of his loose t-shirts near your towels. You sit on the bathtub’s ledge as you wait for the water to fill, thinking nothing other than hoping it will melt everything away. When it was ready, you stripped everything as fast as you could and quickly washed yourself with the shower beside the bathtub. When you finish, you groan when you’re finally submerged into the tub. It was doing wonders, and you closed your eyes for a brief moment before hearing a knock on the door. Nanami was there, peeking in before coming into full view.

“I was wondering if I could take a quick shower whilst you’re in the bath?” You laugh at him, wondering why he’s even asking.

“It’s your apartment, Nanami. Just come on in already.” He shuffles in, taking his own clothes off so he could shower. You were both completely comfortable around each other to be butt naked without a second thought, but it definitely had been a while and you felt shy. Smiling down at you, he’d turned on the shower that was outside of the tub, right near where you were sitting. He chose not to sit down to wash himself off, opting to stand and do it quickly. The silence is nice, listening to the running water beside you. You peak towards Nanami, his eyes shut as he massages his scalp with his shampoo. Honestly, you could look at him all day. It felt surreal when he had asked you out, especially after being good friends for so long. Your eyes travel of course, hoping that you were being subtle about it.

“If you stare for too long your eyes will stay like that, you know.” Your eyes snap up to his face, seeing him with one eye open, smiling at you for your wandering eyes. Turning away pretending to whistle, he chortles. The shower shuts off, and he grabs his towel.

“See you when you come out.” He walks out of the bathroom, and you peak all the way until he’s gone. You sigh, the water cooling down much faster than you would’ve liked, that dull ache still present in your shoulders. The water only eased them for a while, but you think you’d need to sleep it off to get rid of the ache. You sit up, unplugging the bath. Sighing again as you exit, you dry yourself off and shove your boxers, fitted shorts and then you pick up Nanami’s t-shirt. It’s clean, but it still smells like Nanami and his house in general. Smashing your face into it before inhaling, you grin to yourself. Quick to put it on, you smooth it down before exiting. Stretching before finding Nanami on his phone on the couch, you walk to his kitchen to grab two ciders out of his fridge. Walking to where he sat on the couch, he looks up at you before you sit beside him. You slouch into his side, offering the other can of cider to him. He gladly takes it, opening it and taking a swig. Laying against the couch, he asks if the bath helped, and you complain that it didn’t. He hums, tapping his hand on your thigh a couple of times in condolences. Slouching into him, you whine.

“Why are they so sore? This is so annoying…” He hums along to your complaint, before turning to you.

“I can give you a massage, try and loosen any tightness in your shoulder blades.” You beam at his offer, quick to agree and you’re both finishing your ciders at the same time. He takes them to the trash in the kitchen. Once he was back, he asks you to lay on your stomach. You’re quick to do this, and he’s just as quick to get behind you to start the massage.

His big hands start slow, rubbing and kneading the knots out of your shoulders. You were enjoying it, that was fact, but the noises you made were embarrassing you… Wishing the couch would just swallow you whole. Nanami was so skilled with his hands, to the point you didn’t realise how much they would affect you. His hands were travelling lower as he did his work before he slid his hands from your waist to the back of your thighs. Clearly it was turning into something else, his hands that were massaging your thighs now creeping upwards, under your shorts and kneading your butt. Without turning around, you ask what he’s up to.

“I’m not sure what you’re on about, baby boy.” Claiming he hadn’t a clue what he was doing, straight face and that usual monotone voice of his when replying to you. You look over your shoulder at him, and he looks at you, not moving his head to look at you properly. Removing his hands to hold your hips, pulling you up to meet his own. When he grinds into you, you realise how much it got to him doing this kind of thing. He was just as much of a mess as you were, and he was quick to flip you over. Pulling you into him, you had no time to say anything before his hands were under your (his) t-shirt and leaving sparks on your bare skin where he touched. His hands were the only thing touching your skin, and he was adamant to tease you. Licking and nipping your skin, your nipples, through the t-shirt. Whilst you’re distracted with the weirdly good sensation, he’s quick to remove everything from your bottom half. Kissing you sweetly, you grind back into him again. Groaning into your mouth, his hands slide from your waist, and he parts from you.

Practically bending you in half, he flips your legs up so that your bottom half was in line with his face. Before you can ask what he’s up to, he prods your hole with his tongue before fully delving in. You try to tell him that he doesn’t need to do that, that he should remove his mouth from there. He doesn’t listen, simply humming and using a free hand to mess with your cock. Gripping the cushions that lay beside you for dear life, you were a mess. He was relentless as well, unstopping until your moans were getting more strangled as you struggled to keep from making a mess. He stops stroking you when you get close, and you whine for his touch again. Removing his tongue, he chuckles at you before spitting onto your hole, and sucking onto two of his fingers. You felt dizzy. This was the most daring Nanami had ever been in your relationship. He’s quick to fill you back up, plunging a finger into you. Taking it slow, working you back up to have you a whining mess. Purring to encourage him to go further, trying to entice him to do more than he is doing now… And it works, of course. But not in a way you expected. He bit into your inner thigh; another finger added. Looking at you with a look you didn’t recognise.

Picking up the pace, he’s leaving you gobsmacked and a total slobbering mess. The only coherent words leaving your mouth were his name, and that you were close. His thick fingers hit the right spot dead on each time, watching as your face contorts in front of him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. Unstopping, you eventually peaked and squeezed around his fingers, but nothing came out. Shaking nonstop, tears spilling down your face. That orgasm was none other than a dry one, and this was the first time Nanami had ever pulled something like that from you. You continued to throb and clamp down on his fingers, whining that you wanted to cum properly. Covering your face in embarrassment, Nanami removes his fingers. Moving away from under you, you flop back into a normal position on the couch. He grabs your wrists to pull you up, throwing you over his shoulder to take you to his bedroom. Placing you onto the bed gently, he opens the drawer next to the bed. He pulls out one of his ties, before turning to face you.

“Baby boy, flip yourself over and hold onto the bed’s headboard railings please.” You do as you’re told, and he binds you to them. Giving the restraint a tug, you were definitely not getting out of that by yourself. He strips himself, throwing everything onto the floor. He rummages in the drawer again, and you can see from the corner of your eye that he pulls out a strip of condoms and lube.

“We don’t need to use protection… It’s your decision…” You turn away again, feeling like you were in a sauna after saying that.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah… Let’s not use it, hmm?” He nods in response, putting them away. He’s quick to get behind you, popping the lube cap. Pulling one of your ass cheeks aside, he squirts the lube onto your asshole, letting it run downwards. He’s quick to slide his cock, sandwiching himself with your ass. You shudder, and he pulls away to line himself up properly. Holding onto your hips, he guides himself in slowly. Feeling a little impatient, you push yourself back against him and his hold tightens, almost bruising. Growing impatient, he slams into you to fully bottom out. The wind is knocked out of you, feeling breathless with whatever Nanami you seem to have unlocked. You arch yourself properly for him, and he kisses up your back all the way to your neck. He waits a few seconds, whispering deeply into your ear.

“Good boy, you’re taking me so well…” He pulls out slightly, before pushing slowly back in. You whine, he’s not giving you that same shock as before. Purposely grunting and breathing heavily in your ear, he whispers the pet names you want to hear the most. In time with his slow, deep thrusts, you squeeze around him on purpose. Pushing yourself back into him, you complain to him.

“Nanamin~ More…” One hand remains on your hip, whilst the other slides itself to your chest. Feeling along it, grazing your nipples with his calloused palms. He’s being cruel, not giving you the pace you want despite your complaints and cries. So, you squeeze him like a vice. The hand on your hip tightens again, and his hips stutter. Hissing into your ear, he wanted to take things slow before what he was willing to bring… But that was way out of the window now. Both hands on your hips, he pulls out until the tip is only left inside of you. Missing the small bit of friction you once had, your hole flutters around him. He slams into you, unforgiving. Gripping tightly onto the bed’s headboard with each slam of Nanami’s hips, not getting a moment to think before those obscene noises you were making earlier came back full swing. The man who normally went for missionary and wasn’t rough when loving you, was now being rough and you couldn’t complain, since Nanami was executing your likes so well. There was only one person that knew of these likes, and it wasn’t Nanami. You hadn’t told him, so you knew you had someone to thank after this night was over. It didn’t take you long to cum, splattering all over the sheets beneath you and caking Nanami in it too. But Nanami was still going, angling you in a way that would hit deeper. The overstimulation made you cry, it felt amazing, but you were crying. He noticed this, pulling out and unbinding you. He flips you over, entering you again but with a much less brutal pace than before. Wiping your tears, he followed up with a lot of sweet kisses.

“Hold on a little longer, okay? Please tell me if you can’t anymore.” He had returned to his usual self, bringing you back up to another climax. He whispered little ‘I love you’s into your ear, kissing you all over your chest scars, moving up your neck to your face, then kissing your lips.

“I wish you could… Engrave those words into my heart. Reassure me that you really do love me.”

“You’re the only one for me.” He hadn’t touched your cock at all since before on the couch, so when he did, you felt like a dam had broken loose. Wave after wave of pleasure, you squirted everywhere. You couldn’t help making a mess again. Losing himself in the moment, he followed closely behind, burying himself deep and releasing his built-up orgasm. When he pulled out, he looked panicked. Pulling him into a kiss, touching your forehead with his own

“What’s… wrong?”

“I meant to pull out.” You chuckle at him panicking for this, it didn’t bother you in the slightest.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’m happy you enjoyed yourself.” He gives you a quick peck before running to the bathroom, saying he needed to get a cloth. Once he leaves the bedroom, you get up to move to your bag to text a certain someone. You wobble towards it, shivering when the cum starts to dribble out of you. Crouching, you grab your phone out of your bag. Messaging a certain white-haired male.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

You: you told him didn’t you?

Gojo aka Man Whore: ;)

Gojo aka Man Whore: sure did !

You: thanks

You: maybe you aren’t completely useless

Gojo aka Man Whore: HEY >:(

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

You shake your head, exhaling a small laugh. Throwing your phone back into your bag, you stand back up to make your way to the bathroom where Nanami was. Nanami pops out with a cloth in hand, before realising you’re on your way over to him. He rushes over, holding onto your waist and leading you into the bathroom. You hear water running, and realise he was away preparing a bath for you both.

“I know you had one earlier, but we should probably clean up again.” Smiling at him helping you, he’s quick to turn you around and kneel down. A warm, wet sensation snakes between your legs. Nanami wipes the cum dribbling out of you, and you notice how the tips of his ears and the back of his neck starts to flush. He’d never show it on his face, but after that, he was definitely feeling shy. Smiling to yourself, he wipes the rest of your bottom half before standing back up. Guiding you over to the bath, he holds your hand as you step into the tub, and sink slowly in.

He slides into the tub too, sitting behind you and pulling you in by your waist. Resting your back against his chest, he kisses the juncture of your neck. You both sigh, almost in sync. The heat of the bath makes you drowsy, but you have to fight sleeping. Nanami was mumbling into your neck, just below your ear. Words of affirmation, those same pet names he called you only now were they of sweet endearment rather than to rile you up. You couldn’t get enough.

#nanami kento #nanami smut #nanami x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami #kento #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #top!nanami #bottom!reader #nanami x transmasc reader #x transmasc reader

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captains-simp · 3 years

Note

Hi bestieeee, congratulations on 1K!!! I have a request for you!! Mommy!Nat or Dark!Nat blackmailing R into sex or else R would be fired?? Thank you

I wonder who this request is from?🤔

2.8k words

Warnings: dub-con (bordering on non-con), coercion, blackmail, unhealthy power dynamic, oral sex (giving), praise, strap on sex and cum filled strap on

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You knew Natasha was coming before you saw her; before you even heard the chilling sound of her heels against the polished floors of the 46th level. You knew because you saw it in your coworkers eyes. You saw the way they cowered behind their desks and averted their eyes or made a swift exit from the area entirely. You knew because that was just how it worked at Romanoff Industries.

You were lucky enough to have your own office. Well, that should have made you lucky in avoiding Natasha's piercing gaze but it did not. Most of the time she stalked down the area outside your office she came straight to you and even if it wasn't her destination she would be sure to look in as she went by.

That was one of your less fortunate days, she was coming to see you and it wasn't to deliver a compliment about your hard work. Your boss let herself into your office without knocking and strolled over to your desk, her hips swaying in the mesmerising way they always did in those incredibly tight skirts.

"What happened to that report that was meant to be sent to me hours ago?" She demanded as she stood in front of your desk.

"Apparently someone picked up on some faults of the latest design so we can't do anything right now." You tried to explain but Natasha never did like excuses. "I don't know when it will be fixed." You continued.

"And you didn't think to tell me this?" Natasha glared.

"I thought someone would have told you." You were right, a lot of someone's had told the redhead, but apparently she needed to hear it from you too. "It's not my job to." You couldn't help but add. You knew Natasha hated when people pointed out things she didn't want to hear, more so when they did so confidently. You were one of the few who managed it, maybe that was why Natasha seemed to have it out for you. It was just a compulsion to you, to one up your boss. Even if it rarely succeeded.

You had always had mixed feelings about Natasha. Sometimes you thought when she went home at night she venturer into some cave that led to the pits of hell where she returned to her rightful throne. Other times that tough and stubborn show she put on was nothing short of admirable. There was no doubt it was what got her her success and therefore gave you a job. It was just hard to deal with when it was aimed at you individually, or what you could argue felt like personally.

"Don't give me that." She snapped. You were aware of all the eyes of your coworkers looking in on the pair of you and hanging on every word that was exchanged.

"You know full fucking well if something you're doing is going to be delayed you tell me." She was leaning both hands on your desk and leaning over to get closer to you. With such a short distance between you you had no choice but to stare back into her forest green eyes, like hell you were going to look away and back down.

"You can write that fucking report anyway. I want it on my desk today." Today? There was no way you could get that done in office hours, you would have to be working long past when you were meant to usually go home. "And when the design has been fixed you can write another one on it." She was testing you, willing you to say something you would regret. You weren't going to fall into her trap.

"Okay." You said, holding her gaze.

She didn't say anything else. Natasha stood there for another few seconds to watch you, waiting for something, anything. Then she stood back up straight and headed towards the door that she slammed closed behind her and marched back to her own luxury office.

That could have been an email.

It was approaching midnight when you finished the report. You were about to email it to Natasha when you remembered she wanted it in paper form so you begrudgingly sent it off to the printer.

It was a waste of paper you thought as you trudged over to the elevator that quickly arrived as there was no one else in the building. You figured Natasha just wanted to be that extra bit difficult. Well, you knew that was what she was trying to do.

You had worked with Natasha for longer than most, you knew her. Or rather, you knew the front she painted. You knew what annoyed her, what she wanted, what she thought of certain people and you could predict how she would conduct business down to the exact price tag of a product. But you didn't know her personally, sometimes you wondered if there was anyone who did.

You knocked on your bosses door and waited until she called for you to come in. You planned to simply walk in, put the paper on her desk and walk out to go home but once you were several steps past the door Natasha called for you to close it.

She didn't look up at you as you trudged across the ridiculously big office and put the papers down. It was only when you turned around that she spoke again.

"Stay." Was all said. You bite back a comment about not being a dog.

You turned back around and expected some speech and your attitude earlier but continued making notes on a design plan like you weren't even in the room. A few minutes of you fidgeting on your feet and looking around the office for anything interesting, Natasha picked up your report and leaned back in her chair to read it. She showed no signs that you had done a good or bad job with the report.

Finally, she put the paper down on her desk and went back to the plans. "Close the door behind you." Was all she said. You clenched your jaw and rolled your eyes once turned around to finally leave and go home.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, y/n."

Turns out it wasn't as simple as writing two reports. Design after design failed. First there was a slight issue with the batteries, then the shape, then it somehow became a liability. You mentioned all these faults in your reports, as you legally had to, but it became tedious very quickly. You always hated paperwork. It was meant to be such a small part of your job. You could only hope the sudden increase was temporary, especially as it wasn't exactly one of your strengths.

You continued to work over time and met Natasha late at night, always having to wait until she finished reading till you could leave. You thought you had to be doing at least a good job with them for your boss to never say anything, because she was always ready to point out small errors. That was until one particular night.

"These reports are getting worse." Natasha scolded. The comment made your blood boil. They were certainly not getting worse, maybe the designs were but you knew it was no fault of yours.

"The designs don't work." You fired back and crossed your arms. You had been worked tirelessly on those reports and they only stated the facts.

"Do you even care about your job, y/n?" Natasha asked seriously, angering you more.

"I've sacrificed more than I ever thought I could for a job for this company."

"You're on thin fucking ice, l/n. With the way things are going I'd be in a right mind to fire you." ...what the fuck?!

"What?" It came out as more of a whisper. After everything that you had done for the company and the years you had spent there, Natasha wouldn't really fire you, would she?

"Unless you're willing to make up for it all." She said seriously with something unmistakably dark in her tone.

"I don't more extra hours than anyone here." You said, not knowing what else she could mean.

"Not more than me, something takes quite the toll. I can hardly fit the time in to distress anymore. That's where you come in." Natasha explained as she stood up from her chair and sauntered around to the other side of the desk, the sound of her heels clicking echoing around the room.

There was a long moment of silence when Natasha left barely any space between you. You searched her eyes for any hint of what she was referring to but inevitably found nothing. Until she suddenly pushed you down onto your knees in front of her.

"Show me what other skills you have and maybe I'll consider letting you stay." She smirked down at you and ran the back of her hand across your cheek before cupping your jaw. "Entirely your call."

"Natasha this is crazy." You tried to reason but it was hard to ignore the faint throbbing you felt from being on your knees for her. "I could tell someone." For the first time ever, you heard her laugh. She threw her head back in a mocking laugh that soon turned into taunting chuckles.

"Y/n, who would believe you over me? You can be my guest and try but you'll never have another job in this city again, maybe further if I feel like it." She shrugged. You gulped and felt your breathing shake. Fuck.

Natasha, apparently impatient, hiked up her skirt and leant back against her desk to look at you expectantly. Your mouth suddenly went dry when you caught sight of her bare pussy, having not had any underwear on. You wondered if she often sat around like that. If she sauntered around the building and into your office where you could easily let your fingers wander up her skirt. Did she always leave them off for you?

"If you want to keep your job I suggest you get to work." She spoke. You tentatively moved forward and gripped onto her thighs for support, still looking up at her for any signs of a tell.

She was positively soaked. You could see her clenching in anticipation, the sight and musky smell entirely inviting. So you licked a long strip of the redhead's folds and moaned at the sweet taste of her. Sweetness was hardly what you expected given the tough and cold exterior of your boss, you hadn't expected it to be so instantly addictive either.

You pushed your tongue further inside the redhead who gave a breathy moan in response. At that, your mind was made. You sucked harshly on Natasha's clit and felt it pulse rapidly between your lips before returning your tongue to where she needed it most.

"Look at how much you're enjoying this." Natasha smirked as she looked down at the beyond contented glint in your eyes. "So good at pleasing you like mommy."

You worked your tongue tirelessly inside her, spurred on by the blissful sounds that fell from the redhead's mouth with every flick and curl of your muscle. You were lost in the incomparable taste of her and hoped it would be something that lingered on your tongue for a while. You were in awe of the way her mouth hung open in a silent scream as her eyes clenched shut every time your tongue brushed against some beautiful nerve ending. The sounds she made when you did so rivalled the faux sweetness of a siren's song. You knew the dangers of being lulled too far but you wanted to explore it entirely, convinced there was some hidden beauty that no one else could see.

"Fuck, so good." Your grip on Natasha's thigh tightened when her hold on the back of your neck did. She started to buck her hips against your mouth and her breathing patterns became more irregular. Your boss seemed lost in the pleasure she was experiencing from you as her eyes shut firmly and her movements became more erratic. But even then she held onto her power over you.

"I want you to swallow every last fucking drop." She ordered and gasped when your nose bumped against her clit. You picked up the pace of your tongue, making sure to swipe it against all the spots you had learnt made her shudder.

Her nails were practically digging into your neck when she reached her high. Her breath got caught in her throat before she gave the most animalistic moan you had ever heard. She furiously bucked her hips against your face as she rode out her high and relished in every wave of pleasure.

She recovered impressively quickly and was still raring to go, apparently having more plans for the night. She smiled down at you with a glint of the devil in her eye as she stood back and turned around to retrieve something from her desk, telling you to sit on her chair.

You were anticipating Natasha to return the favour, especially given how much she clearly enjoyed what you had to offer. Instead, she slipped a harness through your legs and pulled it up to your waist where she fastened it to sit securely. It was only when she moved away that you saw the size of the red toy, standing proudly and daringly. You wouldn't be surprised if your boss couldn't make it fit, yet again about to see that you really didn't know her. She was unpredictable and nothing short of it.

Natasha straddled your legs until her knees hit the backrest of her chair and her cunt was lined up with the toy. You went to hold her waist to guide her but your boss grabbed your wrists harshly and pinned them to the chair either side of you with a warning look.

She lowered herself onto the toy and groaned when the head of the toy alone started to stretch her. She kept her strong grip on your wrists as she looked more of the strap and you could only watch on in awe as the fake cock disappeared inside her.

Natasha moaned loudly and paused half way to adjust herself and breathe heavily before slamming herself down on the rest of the toy. "God." She grunted. "Mommy feels so full."

"Let me help you mommy." You tried but she shook her head.

"You don't get to touch right now." Was all she said before she lifted herself partly off the toy and slammed back down drawing another beautiful moan.

Your boss continued this for a while until she found herself in a rhythm that pleasured her deeply. You could see her juices smeering the toy everytime she withdrew and the sight alone made you groan, you already wanted to taste her again.

She rode you with vigor as her pace increased as did her grip on you. Profanities spilled from her mouth like a song that you wanted to join in with but you were too fixated on the sight infront of you. Natasha's bra clearly wasn't all that supportive because her breasts bounced with each thrust downwards and you wished more than anything that you could reach out and take her top and bra off to cup them, even tweak her nipples between your fingers to see her squeal.

"Gonna cum- fuck! Mommy's gonna cum on your cock and you're going to fill me up more." She said between moans and gasps. You didn't really understand what she meant by fill her up more but you weren't going to object, not when you wanted to see her cum again so badly.

She suddenly let your right hand go and grabbed on to the back of the harness. You were confused until you felt something click and Natasha was moaning louder than she had all night. "Your cum feels so good in me." She all but screamed before jerking her hips wildly and cumming around the toy.

She fell forwards slightly and grinded against the toy to ride out her high desperately. You gripped her hips with your free hand and moaned when you saw some of the cum leaking out of Natasha's pussy.

With a groan, you pulled your other hand out of the redhead's grasp and lifted her up and down onto her desk where she looked up at you with blissful eyes. "Don't go thinking you have any control." Natasha sneered but gasped when you withdrew the strap and snapped your hips forwards again.

"We'll see."

#natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff #dark!marvel #dark!natasha romanoff

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alleycat-arcade · 2 years

Text

Game Start! The Seven Lords: Beast by Moonlight

Anonymous asked: Hey, so I know you only really write for ToT, Genshin, and Omswd, but do you think you could do one of those Character-like headcanons for a Bungou Stray Dogs character? I noticed your icon, and just wanted to ask if you'd be okay with it. If you are, could you do an Atushi-like Mc for the Demon bros? No pressure though!

These crossover cabinets have been really popular lately, so I've been getting a few more in to keep up with the demand. It took a moment to fully repair this cabinet though, as it was quite the feisty little thing. No worries though, I have made sure it won't shock ya.

(I rewatched Season one and two of BSD and BSD: Wan! to make this as accurate as I could lol, I hope you enjoy it Anon!)

A Weretiger Amongst Demons (Obey Me! Demon Brothers x Atsushi Nakajima-like! Gn! Reader)

Content Warnings: Bungou Stray Dogs is a series that contains characters based on real life authors, with each individual character having an ability based on a book by their namesake author. There is also a character in the series who is Sui///cidal and it is somewhat treated more light-hearted than how it is usually treated in media, and though it is explained later as to why I don't recommend anyone who is put off or upset by that type of content to watch it. Atsushi is not this character though, so there won't be any mention of it in this. This series also contains rather intense battle scenes, so there is mentions of blood and limb loss/limb regeneration in this. Should this premise interest you, I recommend watching at least the first two episodes if you don't want spoilers from those episodes. Also like with any fic that involves Belphie, spoilers for chapter 16-20. Has a little bit of angst sprinkled in because it is attached to my very being.

(There is a lotta stuff cut from Satan's part to prevent this from solely being about him. My inner simp is showing ;w;)

(Note: Atsushi has a very prominent black streak of hair, like a tiger stripe. Whenever I say "discolored streak of hair" or something similar, feel free to imagine what sort of tiger stripe would best suit your hair color.

Also, feel free to look at the bottom of this post if you wanna see what Atsushi's partial and full tiger forms look like lol.)

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

Being a member of the Armed Detective Agency was a job that hardly ever was uneventful. If you weren't busy investigating crimes that had to do with the Port Mafia or Ability Users, you were stuck at your desk doing paperwork as your rather... unique coworkers got up to their shenanigans. Despite how much of a handful they could be some days, you were still fond of them. They were sort of like a family to you in a way, something you'd never had before joining. You had been out in town with Kenji to pick up some groceries for the office today, which turned into a rather exhausting ordeal as you underestimated the pure weight of the amount of snacks Ranpo wanted. Fukuzawa, your boss, had sent you home early afterwards for some good rest. Thankfully, the dormitories owned by the agency weren't too far from the office so you didn't have to walk too far.

Since you had an returned home a little after lunch time, you decided to make up a quick bowl of Chazuke before having a refreshing nap. Yet, after setting the ingredients on the counter you began to feel light-headed. Instinctively you went to sit down in a nearby chair, but the feeling of falling overtook you as soon as you laid your hands on the base of it. You struggled to think as you began falling through what you assumed to be the floor, unable to focus hard enough to call upon your ability. Luckily, it seemed whoever had caused you to fall through the floor was kind enough to give you a soft landing. Your body hit the carpeted ground softer than expected, and while normally you would've tried to roll and stand up or at least brace for impact, you landed face first on the ground instead.

Dazed and confused, you slowly rose from the ground to meet a rather interesting group of individuals staring down at you. Most of them were silently judging you with their eyes, but the tall being dressed in red in front of you looked almost overjoyed to see you. "Greetings, Mc! Welcome to the Devildom!"

Lucifer:

While you were quite the peculiar human, Lucifer didn't care to much to get to know you unless necessary. Thankfully, you were at least polite and respectful, but he wished you'd stop being so reckless sometimes.

When he had first assigned Mammon to watch over you, he was confused when you had timidly assured him that you could take care of yourself. Luci still insisted, since you were a human now stuck in a realm full of demons with no real way to actually protect yourself should one of them decide to devour your body and soul. Or at least that's what he had thought.

Truthfully, you hadn't run into any sort of conflicts until the TSL quiz since, even though he didn't have the best reputation, lesser demons would rather not mess with you when you had Mammon beside you. But when Leviathan had begun to advance towards you and shift into his Demon form. The Avatar of Pride was going to stop him after a bit, but when one of you emitted a rather loud growl in stunned him for a moment.

Levi's growls usually sounded more like a hiss, and if not for his position in the crowd watching your little quiz game he might've thought it was one of his brothers. The growl stunned Leviathan as well, but not long enough for him to miss the chance to take a swipe at you. It failed to connect, however, since a massive furry claw grasped onto his forearm to stop him. You felt a gloved hand rest on your transformed arm suddenly, releasing your grip on the Third Eldest Brother and looking up to meet the bright red eyes of Lucifer.

As expected, he immediately questioned you about your ability. It took a while to fully explain to everyone that there were humans in the Human World, called Ability Users, that possessed powers of all different varieties. Explaining that yours revolved around you being a Were-tiger took a bit as well, but Luci let you off with a warning afterwards so he could have some time alone to think. He was rather embarrassed to have not known anything about your ability, since Diavolo had been in the room. Perhaps he should have looked into the "Armed Detective Agency" listed under the occupations part of your file, since a quick web search once he returned home explained almost everything you already had.

After the events of the TSL quiz, he begins keeping an extra close eye on you. While Diavolo may have been pleasantly surprised by your powers, not knowing the fullest extent of your strength made him apprehensive. You hardly ever shifted into the partial form you had displayed before, only choosing to shift into it when threatened. The only time he had seen you fully transform into an actual tiger had been when you had been protecting Beel and Luke from his fury. He'd never admit it, but seeing you become a literal tiger with the use of any spells or potions was somewhat impressive.

When Belphegor killed you after he was released from the Attic, Lucifer was impressed to see the fight you had put up against your murderer. The Avatar of Sloth had not escaped the confrontation unscathed, decorated with a good amount of claw and bite marks as he cackled over your body.

The first time that you lose a limb in a fight and regenerate it, the old man nearly has a heart attack. You were not allowed to get into fights on his watch anymore after that.

Lucifer is a bit rough with you when you get out of control, but not on purpose. Mostly he tries to pin you down until you're calm, and soothe you after. He'd prefer if you just told him when you're getting too much moonlight for your own good, so he can arrange plans with Diavolo to take you to a sunny location in the Human Realm. Plus, if you let him visit the Agency with you he'd likely get along just fine with Kunikida and your Boss. Maybe don't introduce him to or expose him to Dazai for too long though, not for Lucifer's sake but for your fellow agent.

Speaking of the Agency, there's a decent chance that your demon boyfriend would fit right in. Luci can probably make up a convincing enough fake ability if you want him to, just make sure that he's aware that Dazai's ability can cancel out others. Or just outright tell everyone that Luci's a demon, they probably wouldn't care too much.

Other than your abilities, Lucifer finds your history and personality rather intriguing to say the least. Your file had already mentioned the fact that you were an orphan, but after the two of you become close you confide in him the awful treatment you had received at the orphanage as a child. Luci does his best to subtly boost your self-esteem and worth, and insisted whenever a nightmare strikes you to come to him first. He could be in the middle of working, but he'd drop everything upon seeing you nervously stand in the doorway in your pajamas and tear stains on your face. He viewed you as a part of the family now or perhaps even more, so he would care for you as such. And while he does appreciate your kindness and protective nature, he wished you would be a little less reckless with your actions.

He is a little apprehensive about letting you return back to the Human World and go back to fighting other potentially stronger ability users, but he trusts you enough to take care of yourself at this point.

Mammon:

Definitely tried to trick Lucifer into letting you go out into the Devildom on your own, as you were very insistent on not troubling him. It didn't work, but he did try.

Mammon actually found you rather cute before and after the pact, not that he'll admit it anytime soon. Your polite but nervous personality made him want to protect you, and watching you get excited over things you've never tried before made him squeal on the inside. While at times he did try to motivate you with Grimm into his newest schemes, your moral compass seemed to be to strong to be tempted by his greed. Though, Mammon did manage to rope you into a good collection of small scale pranks on his brothers.

The first time you leap up to protect himself or one of his brothers, he doesn't know what to do. He wants to be upset and pull you out of the way and protect you, but he also wants to admire your tenacity.

Watching your arm shift into that of a tiger's was a shock for him, as if Lucifer hadn't gotten there first he would've tried to protect you from Leviathan's envious rage. At first, Mammon doesn't really buy the whole Ability User thing, since he's often in the Human World and had never caught wind of it. Over time he comes to terms with it, especially with how your ability effects you. Seeing as he spends the most time around you, should you ever begin to become out of control due to the constant state of night in the Devildom he is the first to soothe you. Mammon is aware that when your Tiger side gets out of control, you can get a little rough with him, but in the end you mean no harm. Though, he did nearly piss his pants the first time Mammon heard you growl in your sleep.

After Belphegor escaped the Attic and killed you, Mammon had run to cling onto your battered body. Despite your regenerative abilities, it seemed that the Avatar of Sloth had pushed you to the brink and attacked your weak points. You had been fully transformed when he found you, leaving him to cling to your upper body and cradle you in his arms.

Mammon actually happens to be the first of the Avatars to find out that you purr. The two of you had been having lunch together, but you weren't feeling your best due to staying up all night studying for your exams. The Avatar of Greed tried to coax you into taking a rest for the remainder of your lunch break, despite your teasing about his sudden softness, which lead him to gently stroking your hair. As his fingernails gently scraped across your scalp, you couldn't help but lean in with a gentle rumbling sounding from your throat. Perhaps if you hadn't been too tired to notice, you would have had a similar reaction to the violently blushing demon you were laying against.

Speaking of your hair, Mammon is oddly fascinated by the discolored streak in yours. Not matter how many times you tell him that it's natural and likely stems from your Ability, he always finds himself staring at it whenever he's focusing on your hair for any reason. The strange streak actually landed you a modelling gig alongside Mammon one time, due to it resembling a tiger stripe. You'll never forget the flushed look on the Avatar of Greed's face when you laid across his lap in the playful cat pose the photographer directed you into. It confused you a bit, since the outfit wasn't even revealing or anything. It was just a very cat themed outfit. You would've preferred tiger, but clothes are clothes.

Unless they're details relating to looking after you, Lucifer didn't tell Mammon all too much about your past. You'll need to be the one to tell him the majority of it, but he'll voluntarily become your new security pillow afterwards. Be careful with revealing certain details though, unless you want to hear whispers of how local Orphanage Director was killed somehow by a wild swarm of crows when you get back to the Human World. Actually, probably don't, that guy kinda had it coming. He's still sort of uneasy with PDA, but he'll put in the extra effort whenever he sees you doubting your self worth. Other than that, you may notice a few good luck or good dream charms hung up around your room later on. They carry a strong essence of magic, with a sort of sigil-like signature that changes with each piece. Oddly, Mammon seemed to have a few more debts than before after the charms appeared, but they do work quite well.

Oh boy, is he not happy with the idea of sending you back to the Human World. He's aware that you're a very capable human and all, but you really shouldn't have told him about the near death situations you've gotten in due to your line of work. Before you leave, he makes you promise not to get yourself killed out there and to pick up your D.D.D. when he calls.

In Mammon's case, you'd probably have a better time if you just go out and about in town together rather than hanging around the Agency. He wouldn't really be to happy about sitting around and waiting for you to fill out paperwork all day, and there isn't much else to do because he promised not to cause trouble at the office. Other than that he gets along with your co-workers decently well, aside from Kunikida, but probably don't plan on taking him out on any missions with you unless necessary. Sure, he's got your back, but getting said back might mean a lot more property damage aka more paperwork.

Leviathan:

You're a rather strange normie, but a normie nonetheless. Levi's doesn't really want much to do with you after you make a pact with Mammon so he can get his money back, but he might be pressed enough to admit he's at least interested in your long belt that weirdly trails behind you and waves like a cat's tail. But then the TSL Quiz happens and, was your arm just a tiger's?! That's..... so cool! F-for a normie!

Does become rather invested in your explanation on Ability Users. He can name about 70 different anime with a similar premise, but you're saying that all of that stuff is real and just a realm away? Hey Lucifer, do you think he can take a visit to the Human World to do some Navy business? No? Damn. He'll have to settle for studying the anime were-tiger of his dreams instead. *sigh*

I hope you enjoy playing the role of a storyteller, because he's going to want all of the details you can provide. If you're capable of it, the two of you could talk about all of the stuff you were getting up to as a member of the Armed Detective Agency prior. Leviathan won't force you to keep going if you're getting tired of talking though, and once you begin to lose steam he'll suggest that both of you watch an anime with a similar premise to your experiences. Perhaps with a fresh order of Rainbow Pizza on its way.

He sort of appreciates the way that you're also a bit nervous and timid. Not nearly as shy as him per say, someone's got to tell the cashier at Hell's Kitchen they got his order wrong, but you do share some traits with him. It makes him feel closer to you that you both struggle with similar things. But please, for the love of... Ruri-chan, please stop trying to protect him and his brothers from hits they can easily take. His heart cannot take it.

And when you tell him about your past with the Orphanage and how it's effected your self worth? It was a very same hat moment(the self worth part). Both of you sort of become each other's support, boosting the other's self esteem and comforting the other from their nightmares. These moments of comfort are most often spontaneous, spiking and declining with how the current status of the world around you is effecting your mental health.

Tried for a while to get you to transform and do cool stunts while he watches and or records/livestreams it, but after you tell him about the toll it takes on your body he relents and apologizes. Insists that he'll make it up to you in anyway possible, and helping you calm down when you get out of control is included in that promise as well. Levi actually has a rather effective strategy for lulling your tiger form into a calmer state, but one that he might find a little embarrassing to do in public. Essentially he wraps his long, scaly tail around you like a boa constrictor, soothing you with stuttered praises and shaky strokes through your fur until you've returned to human form or are at least settled down.

Despite being a shut-in, he'll go out with you to the Human World on days that you need to get some sunshine. There he discovers the joys of laying on a rock in the sun, but do make sure to keep an eye on him so he doesn't give himself sunburn or get caught in his demon form.

When him and the others found you dying in Mammon's arms, he failed to notice that he had shifted into demon form when he crouched down beside you. Though Leviathan was a few paces away still, his tail was just long enough to wrap around your torso once. A fact that he grew to hate as he could now feel your fading pulse. While you do come back to life and he forgives Belphie eventually, it becomes a common occurrence to wake up with his tail snugly wrapped around you whenever you sleep together. If you are uncomfortable with it he'll work on breaking the habit, but if not the habit becomes a source of security for him. You may want to invest in a fleece sleeve for it in the winter though unless you're a very warm body, as his scales can get rather chilly in the colder months.

While he's not happy about you going back to the Human World, Leviathan makes sure that you know he's your Number 1 stan supporter. He's very adamant on both of you keeping up on in-game AP transfers, mostly so he knows you're still there. He also loves playing Co-Op with you when you're off of work.

Very excited to see the sights of Japan, though he'll willingly hang around the office if you need him to. Usually he's just on one of the couches on one of his handhelds, but if you're tall enough and comfortable enough with each other, Leviathan is a great lap warmer and headrest for while you work. Just make sure he brings headphones if you don't want to hear Mononoke: BlazingCrimson while you do your paperwork.

Satan:

The thing that stands out to Satan the most is that you work as a Detective. The thought of having someone else with experience to solve crimes with is a very appealing idea, but you'll still need to get through some barriers before he's even willing to think about you being the Watson to his Sherlock.(It's probably the reverse honestly, seeing as you're the only Detective here with a job *cough**cough*.) That belt of yours though... it's certainly peculiar. Oh well, he has more important things to worry about, like planning Prank #29473 on Lucifer.

Satan had told you about asking Simeon about TSL's upcoming 9th novel on a whim, finding entertainment in getting involved in your conflicts. Plus, Leviathan would probably wipe the floor with you otherwise, and seeing Lucifer's blood boil whenever you came out on top of his brothers in conflicts was quite the pleasing sight. Though, it seemed your little trump card was actually a ticket to your demise as Leviathan's claw... oh. OH.

While he doesn't jump at the chance to form a pact with you or steal you away, as much as his heart wants to, he settles for observing you from the sidelines. A lot. It might be a good idea to ask Asmo to pick you out a hat that suits your outfits, otherwise he may burn hole into your head with how much he's staring. You could almost feel the sensation of his eyes burning your skin when you protected Beel and Luke as a full tiger. (He is looking... somewhat respectfully.)

Once the body swapping shenanigans have concluded and the pact is sealed, he's dragging you away into his room for a bit. Satan wants to learn anything and everything about your Ability that he already doesn't know from his observations. Besides obsessing over your feline features, he does want to know the other parts of your powers. Your strengths, weaknesses, speed, agility, anything of that sort. He very well may build an entire obstacle course for you in the garden if he's able. But, he does take a page out of your book whenever you say or he feels he's gone too far or is being overbearing. In the same way Satan is his own person and not Lucifer's Wrath, you are your own person and not just your Ability.

While we're talking about personality, Satan finds your polite yet shy demeanor rather endearing. He enjoys teasing you by calling you a cat especially, triggering the cute reaction of you shouting about being a tiger as your ears and tail emerge on reflex. But he does have a heart attack every time your self sacrificing side comes out, leading him to jump in front of you instead.

He does love it if you indulge his cat loving side every now and then. Smoosh a paw against his cheek, leave your ears and tail out while relaxing, or even purr and this demon is near putty in your hands. While you may dislike being called a cat and not a tiger, you'll admit it's cute to see him toy with the paw pads of your transformed arm. It's a pretty decent ego boost to see him fawn over you in this way. Perhaps this is what it felt like to be a feline in Egypt?

Your tiger form had a major downside when the brothers had found you after Belphegor was done, as Satan didn't really know what to do with himself. He knew healing spells, sure, but those were healing spells for demons. There was a chance that would work on a human, but you were too weak to change back to your human form. Would a healing spell for general animals work? He's used some on the neighborhood cats when they get hurt so would-... It takes Asmodeus ensnaring him in a tearful embrace for him to snap out of his mile a minute thoughts, but you were already too far gone by then. Satan doesn't know who to exactly to thank when you come back to life, but he plans to spend the rest of his doing so.

Often, you'd go to him for nightmares. The Avatar of Wrath learned of your past through your tearful explanations of the dreams, and was more than happy to help you get a good night's rest. His voice was soothing, and having him sit close to you as he read to you was the perfect recipe for a peaceful slumber. Yet, you were perplexed on what to do when you bumped into a teary eyed blonde in the halls. Satan had not intended for you to find him, he was just going to take a walk and let the painful dream fade from his mind. But with you standing there in front of him now it was brought front and center in his brain, causing frustration to boil inside of him as his eyes grew damp. Taking the quicker route, you lifted him up with your enhanced strength and took him back to your room, where he spent the rest of the night. You didn't mind the tearstains on your pajamas, even if he apologized for them in the morning.

As another person that struggles with fits of aggression, Satan is a decent support when it comes to dealing with the negative effects of moonlight. Though you don't really have the capabilities to seriously harm him, you do tend to scratch him up quite a bit. Most days that you seek this form of comfort from him lead to the Avatar of Wrath being covered in scratches that looked like he just came out of the unruly cat section of an animal shelter. Personally, similar with his anger, he'd much rather help you prevent these fits before they happen, even if he can heal decently quickly.

It's easy to see that he longs for you to stay in the Devildom, but he knows you must return home. While he does love hearing your voice over the phone, the two of you often exchange letters full of life updates, loving and tender words, and whatever else you could think of. It's his inner hopeless romantic talking there.

Once you get him into the Armed Detective Agency, you're going to need to call for some backup if you intend to stop him from applying for a job. If not, better start subtly prepping him for the entrance exam so you can say hello to your new Junior Detective(He hates this title)! At least he gets along fine with the other though, but he's biased positively towards Ranpo.

Asmodeus:

Asmo's reaction isn't too different to that of the normal canon at first. He doesn't really think much of you, as he has far too many more important things on his mind than to care too deeply about the human they were hosting in HOL. That seemed to already be Mammon's job anyway. Your timidity and politeness made you rather fun to tease at least. Nothing harmful or extreme, just playful and flirty gestures to rile you up a bit. The Avatar of Lust nearly had a giggle fit when he thought that you hissed at him, but he chalked it up to being a noise made by your Guardian Demon.

But witnessing that initial use of your ability was certainly something that interested him long enough to focus on something other than himself and his niche interests. (He is looking... disrespectfully.) Before the Devildom's moon has reached its next phase, he already has 40 new pet names to teasingly call you.

He makes sure not to show too much interest in you though, as that wouldn't be really any fun for him. He's the Avatar of Lust after all, you're gonna need quite a bit of pizazz to impress him. At least you still have that sweet, sweet angel blood flowing through your veins, making you quite the magic user in combination with Solomon's lent spell. Congrats! You've impressed Asmo and received a pact with him!

While he does have some interest in your Ability, Asmo finds himself falling for and seeking out the you behind the roaring tiger. The most he asks for you to use your Ability is to carry heavy things for him or to try pairing an outfit with your partially transformed form, but he won't complain if you show him more impressive things about your form. Especially those feline eyes and strange streak of hair. A secret that both of you share about the specific strip of hair is that it cannot be dyed, and dying the hair around it makes the stripe change to a color that best suits the dye as a stripe. So don't think you'll get away with black hair, because it's just going to turn white.

On the topic of style, Asmodeus is your go-to demon for new clothes when you enviably rip yours due to your Ability. Asmo is more than willing to take you out on the town and give you suggestions on outfits that best suit your features and needs. Even if you just want baggy, loose-fitting clothing, somehow he's able to find something that flaunts your outer beauty in just the right way. Though, he is aware of how attached you happen to be to the set of clothing you originally arrived in the Devildom with because of its previous owners, so he'll sit down and either sew it for you or teach you how to sew them. Asmo makes sure to always add that belt of yours or something similar to your outfits though, as he finds it far too cute not to.

Upon finding your dying form at the base of the stairs, Asmodeus goes into a temporary state of shock. Once he's out of it he rushes to your side, opposite to Mammon. While his elder brother is cradling you from behind like a porcelain doll, Asmo can much clearly see the injuries on your underbelly from this angle. He can't find it in himself to care about his looks as he wipes the tears trailing down his face off, throwing off his jacket and pressing it into the worst of the worst of your injuries to stop the blood flow. Though you do come back to life as the previous version of yourself disintegrates, the blood still stains his jacket. One would think that he would have thrown it out immediately after, but it actually sits in a sealed box buried deep in his closet. Asmo is unsure as to why, but he can't seem to bear the idea of tossing or destroying the item in anyway, nor can he bring himself to look at it for longer than a few seconds at a time.

Looking for someone to vent to about nearly anything? The demon you're looking for is waiting for you with open arms and a fresh bottle of your favorite beverage. Often, Asmo encourages you to engage in acts of self-care as you two discuss things in your daily life that frustrate you, but he knows when to put the beauty products away and give you some good old fashioned comfort. Talking about your rather rough past is one of those situations, where the demon allows you to speak for as long as you want whilst tracing calming shapes into your back and holding you close with a gentle melodious hum. When you stop speaking, he gently whispers words of affirmation and comfort while tracing much more complex shapes and letters. As you slowly fall into the realm of sleep, he changes into his demon form and surrounds you the best he can with his smaller wings. Even though he hates his sleep being interrupted, he'd willingly not sleep for a week if you needed him to be there with you.

Though Asmodeus is not weak by any means, he struggles at times with helping you calm down from your full tiger fits. He prefers not to be rough with you at all, settling for luring you into a position that he can pin you underneath a fleece blanket and soothe you with his words until your transition back into your human form. After the first time this happens, Asmo begins setting up appointments with Diavolo to let you get a weekly visit to the Human World for some sunlight and you notice a few extra large cat claw caps in his Akuzon cart.

As much as he doesn't want to see you go, he knows that your smiling face will be popping up in his Devilgram feed as soon as you return home. You promised not to tell Belphie or the others, but sometimes at night you and Asmo will talk. His brothers assume the giggles and chatter coming from his room to be the radio or something else, as they know how much Asmo values beauty sleep.

Luckily, he gets along just fine with the other members of the Agency, but how much he gets along with Yosano is both admirable and concerning. Aside from a little bit of hotheadedness from Kunikida at his teases, there is no real conflicts between them. You're actually more likely to find conflict out on the streets of Japan, and directed towards you rather than Asmodeus. It's hard to say you didn't expect it, walking with your arm linked with the most literal Avatar of Romantic Temptation is bound to draw in some jealous. Hopefully none of them are any Port Mafia members who are feeling particularly lucky that day, 'cause they'll either be met with your heel or Asmo's fist.

Beelzebub:

This human is very lamb-like in nature, are you sure they are not food Lucifer? They aren't? Okay. That's about where Beel's main interest in you falters. While he expresses some concern to your well-being prior to the TSL Quiz, it's not to the extent that he would go to for his brothers. Solely, he wants to help keep you alive so that the exchange program Diavolo and his family worked hard for goes smoothly, even if he does miss his twin while Belphie is in the Human World with Diaval.

Beel is unsure how to fully feel about your ability though. It's impressive, sure, but the idea with you having enough power to at least block a hit from the third eldest of his family makes him somewhat uncomfortable. Add on the fact that you have the capability to regenerate, and you have a somewhat concerned Beelzebub. He doesn't exactly think that you have the abilities to go toe to toe with any of his siblings, but there is a good chance that you could at least give them a decent injury. While you don't use your ability often, he still tenses up whenever you do.

Then, you put your life on the line to protect himself and the young angel from Lucifer's rage. Admiration blooms in his chest as you throw yourself in front of the two of them with a vicious snarl, declaring that no harm will come to either of them. Even in your full Tiger form the Eldest easily bats you to the side, but thankfully Diavolo arrives and stops the conflict. Beelzebub easily lifts your unconscious body from the ground as you slowly shift back into your human form, cradling you with as much care as he typically showed to his brothers. A smile crosses his face when your hand wraps around his wrist after laying you down on the bed, and he settles in to sit beside you until you wake up.

After forming a pact with him, you find yourself often working out with him at the Gym. Your Ability gives you enhanced speed and strength, so you figured why not practice with it? The amount of battles you got into back home made the heavy set of weights look and feel like nothing. You even managed to pick up your demon friend himself, hearing a hearty chuckle from him as you held him in your arms Bridal Style.

Beelzebub especially likes running with you, since you can keep up with his pace and at times rival Mammon in speed. Once your Ability has worn you out and you feel like collapsing, he easily scoops you up into his arms and carries you home. With a quick stop at Hell's Kitchen of course.

On the topic of food, you can certainly eat a whole lot. Beel is almost impressed with how much you can eat in one sitting, even if he eats double the same amount.

When Belphegor is released from the Attic and kills you, Beel honestly doesn't know what to do. He's happy at first when he sees Belphie, but then he sees the blood, the scratches, the wicked grin across his face, and finally your dying body on the ground. Should he be happy to see his twin, even though its fairly clear that he just killed the human he was beginning to feel strangely sweet and fond feelings for? As much as he loves Belphie, the automatic response his brain gives is no. Inner turmoil boils inside of him so much that it reaches the Avatar of Sloth's sense, causing a silent standoff to begin between the two. Were this be the doings of other demon, Beel likely would've ripped them to shreds by now. If you hadn't suddenly come back to life, who knows what Beelzebub would've done.

After that whole conflict, the Avatar of Gluttony really needs to fill the desire brewing inside. Not for food though, rather he longs to be by your side as much as possible. Move over Mammon, it's Beel's turn to cuddle with the human for the night. Not that you're complaining though, he's warm and his strong presence helps ward off any nightmares.

Speaking of nightmares, Beelzebub is an incredibly soothing presence to calm down from them with. He has his fair share of them, and he's fully open to listening to you speak about anything you need to get off your chest. Not too long after forming the Pact with him you confided in him about your past, and hearing about the Orphanage slightly dampens the corners of his eyes. Often Beel holds you close, reassuring you that you'll always be a part of his family and reaffirming your worth.

You don't really have to worry about the Avatar of Gluttony when it comes to helping you calm down from a fit of aggression caused by moonlight overexposure. This demon can easily cross-face cradle you and pin you down when you get too scratchy, but he doesn't feel the best about doing it. He'd much rather go out with you to get some sunshine, since Lucifer trusts him to not cause to much of a ruckus in the Human World if you're there making sure he doesn't eat too much.

When it's time for you to head back to the Human World, he's sad but he knows that you'll see each other again. Beel eagerly awaits your call when it's his turn to talk to you, wanting to know everything you've been up to since you've been gone no matter how small the details are.

Your co-workers get along quite well with him, but you find that he shares an unspoken bond of respect with Kenji. Both of them share a high level of inhuman strength as well as a near perpetually empty stomach, the only difference being that Kenji can be full but he will fall asleep soon after. The only one of your co-workers that he may not get along with is Ranpo. Should you fail to fully supply him with snacks, Beel may follow his senses and find one of, if not all of, Ranpo's snack stashes. Just make sure to keep your gluttonous boyfriend well fed and everything will be fine as you do your paperwork or go around town. If need be, you can sit on his lap as you work to keep him from running off.

Belphegor:

Belphie is very much under the impression that you are a normal human when he first meets you and long after. Being human doesn't earn you any good marks though, seeing as he despises the species. He's pleasantly surprised by your personality, but he takes full advantage of your naivety to rope you into getting him out of the attic. You're understandably upset when you find out that he lied to you about being a fellow human, but you dig your heels in and decide to continue to help him for Beelzebub's sake. He'd find it admirable if you weren't a human.

Often he hears the sounds of loud growls, hisses, and snarls that don't sound like any of his brothers echo up to the Attic. Unaware of the situation downstairs, he just assumed that one of his brothers had begun bringing a rather aggressive demon friend around the house. The only time the strange noises legitimately frightened him was one night where a roar filled the area he was fairly certain was the library, followed by a booming slam against the ceiling that shook the house. Once he's out of this prison, he's going to need to talk to one of his brothers about their violent company.

Unless you're feeling generous and tell him about your Ability prior to his release from the Attic, he's going to find out not too long after he begins trying to choke you. While you do switch with your past self, the version of yourself at the mercy of Belphie puts up a rather good fight. You land a good amount of scratches on him, mostly on his arms and torso. At some point during the scuffle he actually manages to tear your forearm off, which disintegrates in his hands and regenerates back in its proper place. In his surprised state, you get a decent-sized bite into his shoulder before he throws you down the stairs. Somewhere along the line Belphegor lands a killing blow, leaving your past self dying on the ground as he pants above them with a maniacal grin across his face. The look doesn't leave his face even as his brothers crowd around your dying body, not until you make yourself known from your hiding space.

After the conflict between both of you is resolved, you have to explain that the were-tiger part of your scuffle was in fact real and not some weird dream. Likely, you have to explain the whole Ability User thing in segmented conversations, just so he doesn't get bored of the explanation and fall asleep halfway through. Belphegor doesn't really mind that you can transform partially or fully into a tiger, since your fur is rather soft. Just don't have him be your sole soother when you get out of control. He's too worried about potentially injuring you or killing you again, and he'd much rather have Beelzebub with both of you during those times.

The first night that Belphie sleeps alone with you, he insists that you be a full tiger or at least mostly tiger. Though he claims that it's because you're softer that way, it's really because he doesn't fully trust himself at that point. He doesn't want to worry about potentially hurting you in his sleep, but this only brings a new thing to worry about. He now has to worry about a heavy tiger rolling over onto him and nearly suffocating him in their fur.

Whether you're sleeping together or not, Belphegor does his best to shoo off any sort of nightmares. He's seen a few of them and you've told him a bit about your traumatic past, so he does his best to replace the particularly nasty dreams with far sweeter ones. Guilt brews in his stomach whenever he recognizes a nightmare that's caused by what he did to you, but unless you find him in a really vulnerable moment or get a truth bangle on him he's never going to tell you about it.

Your strength is something that he definitely enjoys. If Lucifer lets you use your ability around RAD, you can almost guarantee that Belphie will try to get you to carry him to all of his classes. This will need to be something reserved for either just the Avatar of Sloth or one demon at a time, because once his other brothers, besides Beel and Luci, find out about the joys of being carried around by a tiger/half-tiger you're going to be in a lot of back pain. On occasion Beelzebub will try to pick you up while two or more of his brothers are hanging off of you, but that just leads to the rest besides Lucifer piling on. Pray to your deity of choice that Diavolo doesn't happen to witness this display of a moving dogpile, otherwise you may end up with the future demon king on top of all of you with an amused Barbatos and very disappointed Lucifer watching this strange monstrosity.

Since he was locked in the attic at the time you were demonstrating your protective nature at it's finest, he hears about your little stunts second-hand from his brothers. He won't deny its somewhat impression, but he only comes to realize exactly what it likely felt like in those situations when you shove him out of the way of a speeding car one day while you're out grocery shopping. Though you only received a bit of scuffing on your hands from the incident, Belphie treats it as if you nearly died and quickly pulls you away from the crowd. You receive a rather ramblely lecture from the demon, but he can't stay mad at you and the two of you just return home with your groceries. While you're sleeping that night, he slips into your room to press a chaste kiss to your forehead and whisper a quick "thank you" before slipping away.

When it's time for you to head back to the Human World, he's not too happy about how his brothers got to spend way more time with you than he did. Thankfully he manages to find a way to call you more frequently than his scheduled times, so you two talk almost three to four times a week. You try to tell him when you'll be busy with missions ahead of time, in order to prevent your phone from ringing in the middle of an investigation to do with the Port Mafia or other similar organizations. You'd prefer not to return back to the office with about thirty or so bullet holes that Yosano with have to treat with her Ability. It is very much not a fun situation at all.

Finally, Belphie get to accompany you into the Human World for something other than getting some sunshine! First order of buisness? Finding a good spot to nap. Other than that, he enjoys going out into town and looking for things to pick up for his brothers and a few objects he can use to enhance his pranks on Lucifer. He also finds himself enjoying people-watching, mostly just sitting on a bench with you and watching what humans have been up to over the years that he hasn't been keeping up with.

While you're doing paperwork, he does not want to sleep anywhere but your lap. Even if he has to kneel beneath your desk or straddle you, he will be sleeping on top of you while you work. You don't really need to worry about him getting along with your co-workers besides potentially Dazai, but as long as they don't annoy him too much they'll get along fine. Should you chose to take him on any of your missions, he'll either be not awake at all or very awake. He's half asleep when you're doing most of your basic detective work, but fully awake when you're in the middle of a combat heavy mission. Belphie takes it upon himself to take as many hits meant for you as possible, and you might need to hold him back from going overboard on your attackers.

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

(Here are those forms I was talking about lol.)

(I struggled to find ones where he's not beaten to hell lmao)

165 notes · View notes

lavienjin · 3 years

Text

important ass-et | pjm

Summary: You've been tasked with a very important job that you absolutely can't fuck up. After a long day at work, you're at your wits end and who better to end the evening with than your boss?

pairing: CEO!jimin x employee!reader

word count: 8,489

rating: 18+. this work is not suitable for younger audiences.

genre/au: office romance au, coworkers to lovers (?) | smut

warnings: sir kink • mirror kink • spitting • light bondage • squirting • oral (m. & f. receiving) • dirty talk • dom/sub themes • alcohol consumption (not drunk!) • safeword mention (not used!) • impact play (pussy, ass, and thighs baby) • name calling (bitch, slut)

author's note: this self-indulgent thing is for the lovely siya aka @missgeniality! surprise! but not really since i've been teasing this for a HOT minute huh? this is also my first full length fic for the lovely folks over at @btsgoldnetwork! thank you for accepting me into the network! anyway, i do hope you enjoy it, let me know what you think! constructive criticisms are always appreciated!

credits: smoke texture

m.list | ao3

Tick. Tock. Tick.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

When you open your eyes again, you're met with the scowling face of one Park Jimin, lines settling deep into the crevice of his face as he looks at your report silently, eyes darting between line after line of what you've written. Gulping, you school your features into a mask of neutrality, unwilling to betray the nervousness you're currently feeling as you maintain your breathing to endure the scolding that's bound to happen. The waiting is agonizing, the perfectionist CEO in front of you scrutinizing every verb and word choice with pursed lips, pen marking on the margins to make scathing notations on what could be improved upon.

You didn't come this far only to fail. After working for his company for almost eight years of your life, you've managed to climb the ranks quickly, proving yourself with every challenge dropped in the palms of your hands. When the CEO himself approached you in your tiny cubicle, asking you to meet him in his office, you were sure that it was the day you were getting fired and you paced nervously in front of the large wooden doors, thinking about all the mistakes you've done in the past, tears threatening to fall before you push open the doors and await your fate. To your surprise, you're still hired. He lifted an eyebrow at your panicked state, but didn't ask anything as he dropped a large burgundy file on the sleek mahogany table in front of you, an uncaring smile dancing upon his lips.

"I heard you're the best of the best. Show me. Make me proud."

His words still ring in your ears, motivating you to this day. Yet back then, as you perused the file, what you saw was an impossible task in front of you because you were just tasked to lead the audit team for a hotel establishment under Jimin's rule. You should've known than to accept the offer, but something trapped you into saying 'yes'; maybe it was the charisma and sheer power rolling off of the young CEO in droves or the sweet tone of approval in his voice when you signed the non-disclosure agreement, but your mind was off elsewhere when you sold your soul to the devil that day.

Park Jimin has disrupted your simple life since then.

You were giddy at first - trying your best to meet his impossibly high expectations of you by spending night after night in the office. Some days, you don't even go home with the amount of work you had to do; sleeping in the office break room and eating cheap ramen to tie you over. Lately though, you've been feeling frustrated, your needs not being met as you focus on the mountain of paperwork threatening to pull you under and Jimin's offhand flirty comments leaving you absolutely hot and bothered. You've made an effort to ignore your delusions. After all, why would someone like Park Jimin ever want you? With no family name or money to back you up, you're insignificant at best.

"Good," Jimin clears his throat and hands the report back to you. Looks like that's all the praise you'll receive after slaving on the report for two whole weeks. "I've made a few comments on the margins. Please fix them by tonight."

The stress must have made you brave because for the first time, you foolishly snapped, hands balled into fist at your side as you fixed your icy glare towards your boss. "It's 6pm and I'll fix the changes tomorrow."

Jimin blinks, the only twitch in his otherwise cool features that show his surprise. He furrows his brows, tapping his pen against the dark table as he clenches his jaw, sizing you up. The long seconds accompanied by only the clock causes your head to swim, the silence palpable as he looks like he could kill you where you stand. You chastise yourself briefly before opening your mouth to apologise.

Just as the words begin to leave your lips, there's a cat-like grin on Jimin's face as he leans back against his plush white chair, hands folded across his chest. "Answer a few yes/no questions for me."

It isn't a request.

"You've come here to work, is that right?" Jimin leans forward and threads his ringed fingers together before placing his chin on top of it.

You nod.

Jimin stands up then, gliding over towards the edge of the table, propping himself there momentarily. His eyes never leave yours and there's a glint of something dark; something predatory in his gaze. "I'm your boss. Is that right?"

You gulp and nod hesitantly, mind churning in an attempt to find out where he's going with this line of questioning.

"And" - Jimin draws himself to his full height, prowling towards you languidly with his hands in his pockets - "if I asked you to do anything, you'd do it, right?" Jimin drawls the last word, letting it hang in the air as his face leans close to yours, only a hair's breadth between your noses.

You gulp, nodding weakly as you feel yourself get swept away by the intimidating man in a grey suit that surely costs triple your wages for the year. Your own panicked reflection stares at you from his dark sunglasses and he brings his ring-clad fingers to remove them from his face only to toss them carelessly on the table. Jimin tilts his head, colourful tresses falling on his forehead and framing his face, as if he's waiting for something.

"Y-Yes," you squeak out, eventually realising that he wanted to hear an answer from you.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir."

He lifts his hand and gently cups your trembling face, a dark look in his features that you can't name. Your body betrays you when a gasp leaves your lips, knees threatening to buckle if he comes any closer. There's a dial-up tone beeping through your mind, the roaring of your blood mixing with the fog of desire rendering you useless and all you can do is to maintain your steady breaths, counting the seconds as you wait for him to move.

Jimin's lips turn from a simple smirk into a cruel smile. You can see the flame of excitement in his eyes as his pupils dilate and you bring your knees together as you feel the dampness from your arousal threatening to leak down your thighs.

He chuckles upon releasing you, sauntering away towards his desk and plopping down on his chair as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened; as though he didn't just cause your heart to fall into a thousand floors below you in fear and… in desire.

"Finish it by tonight," Jimin's voice calls out as you dismiss yourself from his office, clutching the burgundy folder against your thrumming heart.

---

Flipping through the notes Jimin left, you gnaw on the inside of your cheeks, thinking about his soft, pillowy lips that were mere inches away from your face and the cologne that has since infiltrated your brain. You've always admired Jimin and you'd be lying to say that you don't find him attractive, but even with the few flirtatious comments he's said towards you in the past, you've never found him so… appealing.

No, you nag firmly as your brain comes up with possible images of a naked Jimin. We are not doing this today.

Huffing out a sigh, you try once more to focus on your work and for some time, the distraction helps. You're well into finishing your first page of corrections when the last employees wave their goodbyes, encouraging you to stay strong. Sitting alone in the dim office, you let your tired body slump forward, putting your head in your hands. You glance at the bottom corner of your laptop screen to find that it's 8pm, which explains why your stomach is growling with hunger. You check through your favourite app for any deliveries, only to find that you're suddenly without appetite for anything they're currently offering. Ah, well, looks like it's another cup noodle day for you.

Making your way to the office pantry is like second nature to you. Hell, this entire office is already becoming your second home. There's a blanket at the very bottom drawer of your desk and extra supplies like a toothbrush, deodorant, and some simple makeup for when you need to look presentable the next day. Showering is easy since the office has a gym on the bottom floor too. All the office needs is a functioning stove and you could probably sell all your furniture to move in permanently into the space. Your musings put a smile on your face as you chuckle while you wait for the water to finish heating up.

"You look nice when you smile."

Whirling around in shock, you're met with your smirking boss leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest.

Embarrassed, you quickly drop into a bow before turning your attention towards the singing kettle. The surprise from unexpectedly seeing him in the pantry causes you to touch the hot piece of metal and you jump backwards, clutching your injured hand and dipping it in your mouth. Heat flames your cheek and you can't bring yourself to meet Jimin's eyes, so you stare resolutely at the bright red packaging of the cup ramen instead.

"Are you okay?" There's genuine concern in his voice that makes you look up. Jimin's eyebrows scrunching slightly on his forehead as he moves closer towards you.

"Yes" - his eyebrow quirks upwards - "...sir," you answer swiftly, ripping open the ramen package and pouring out the hot water into the cup before making a move to dash away, clutching the warm styrofoam in your hands.

There's a quiet, disapproving tsking sound and Jimin's arm shoots out in front of your chest, barring your escape. "Cup ramen is bad for you. If you're hungry, come with me."

"I still have work to do," you mumble weakly, trying to get as far away as you press your back towards the counter.

"I know. I assigned you that work. And I believe we had a chat earlier about doing exactly what you're told to do, didn't we? Hmm?"

When you don't answer immediately, his jaw tenses and, in one swift moment, he rips the styrofoam cup away from your hands to slam it on the counter. "Come with me," he commands quietly and circles his large hand around your wrist as he tugs you with him, ignoring the weak protests falling from your lips.

You stop struggling eventually, letting him drag you to the elevator down to the basement. It's not until he unlocks the car door - a sleek black Tesla that probably costs half of the houses in your neighbourhood combined - and opens the passenger seat for you to slide into that he lets go of your wrist, gesturing with a mischievous bow and a wink.

"Thank you," you mumble as you duck into the car. Jimin simply nods, closing the door after making sure your feet are inside. As he walks towards the driver's side, there's a strange coiling in your stomach as you take in the scent that is so wholly Jimin mixed with the smell of the luxurious leather seats.

"Where do you want to eat? Don't worry, I'll pay." It's with those words that you realise you've left your purse on your desk and another wave of embarrassment washes over you, causing your hands to shake as you attempt to buckle in.

As though he's sensing your distress, Jimin leans forward, warmth radiating from his body, as he helps you push the metal in the slot. You don't know how much your heart can take anymore. And you're unsure if it's intentional, but you feel Jimin's hands linger on your waist, your skin searing underneath the white blouse. When he pulls away, you gasp, feeling his fingers skirting over your exposed thighs and you clamp your lips in embarrassment, noting the devilish smile and the quirk of his eyebrows before you quickly turn away.

A quiet chuckle comes from his direction as he starts the car, drumming his fingers on the black, leather steering wheel. There's an occasional clink of metal as his rings hit one another and it takes everything in you not to look at his beautiful hands. You can imagine them though, and you close your eyes momentarily, reminiscing at the strong grip he had on your wrist, though your eyes snap open when your mind delves deeper in your thoughts, pulling an image of Jimin wrapping those very same fingers around your throat.

Oh my, if cup noodles aren't good for your overall physical health, Park Jimin is not good for your mental well-being.

Jimin plays some music as he drives, a smooth jazz beat that thumps across the car filled with expensive subwoofers. Your ears perk up when you hear him humming, voice lilting as it plucks notes out of thin air, harmonizing beautifully with the low tones of the saxophone. You can't help but slide your eyes to his handsome face, marveling at the way he's moving his body as he sings along to the rhythm. The lights blurring past your speed enhances the rainbow in his hair and you're awestruck.

How can a man be so beautiful?

Jimin must have sensed your eyes on him because he flashes you a grin, perfect rows of teeth glinting at you like a toothpaste commercial. He laughs freely when your cheeks redden and you glare at the road, wishing the car had an 'Eject' button you can push to get you out of this situation. Although your heart betrays the calm demeanor you're trying to project, you can't help the smile that forms on your lips and you realise that it's the first time that you feel comfortable and relaxed in the presence of your boss.

When he stops the car, you gawk at the grand building that stretches so high up, you can't see the top even as you careen your neck. There's a marvelous statue made of gold where small throngs of people walk on the steps on either side, all of them dressed in refinery. Feeling out of place in your simple black pencil skirt and white blouse, you turn to Jimin, eyes pleading towards him to take you somewhere else, but he pays you no heed, already exiting out of the car and tossing his car keys towards the valet before crossing over and opening your door.

"Come," he commands, holding out his arm towards you.

Your eyes turn into slits as you regard his hand, yet you gingerly loop your own around it anyway as he helps you stand. There's a ripple of gasps around you, but before you can figure out what's happening, Jimin's already whisking you away, reminding you to be careful as the marble steps tend to be slippery.

"I hope you like Italian. You didn't say anything in the car and it's been a while since I've been here. I hope the menu is to your liking," Jimin whispers as he leans closer, his breath tickling your ear.

You nod mutely, staring at the large glass doors ahead of you as it swallows the people inside. The ripples of murmurs start again, but as you're about to turn your head to see the commotion behind you, yet again, Jimin captures your attention and your eyes fall back to his side profile.

"Do you like wine?"

You shrug nonchalantly. You're not much of a connoisseur for alcohol, preferring to get drunk on liquor that costs $5 or less. "I like reds," you answer simply.

Jimin makes a humming noise and he slips from your grasp to put his hand on your lower back. The electricity that runs down your spine at the contact causes you to gasp and you stumble slightly forward before his hand shoots up to wrap around your sides.

"Careful," he whispers low.

Finally, you reach the top of the stairs pressed up against Jimin's side and you can note the stares that are thrown your way. What is this place anyway?

"Mr. Park, please, come in," the bellman greeted him warmly, bowing low as he opens the wide door for you.

"Chase. How's the family?"

You blink at the colorful man, surprised that he knows the man's name, let alone make small talk to an employee. It's not that you think Jimin's cold-hearted, but billionaires like him don't tend to care for people like you. Perhaps you've judged him too harshly.

The bellman and Jimin exchange a few pleasantries, laughing at a few shared stories before he says his goodbye, whisking you into the grand, golden building.

The inside is just as luxurious as you'd imagine, tall marble ceilings and plush scarlet carpet trailing to the receptionist desk at the far wall. A gigantic, crystal chandelier glints in the room, swaying gently as it refracts beams of light to dance on the walls. The conversations within the space are hushed, people leaning towards each other intimately. A beautiful, white grand piano is playing on its own in the center of the room, a haunting melody filling the space. There's a few seating areas scattered about the corners of the lobby, gentlemen dressed similarly to Jimin pointing at thick reports and looking sternly at their phones while sitting back on dark chaise lounges.

Jimin veers left, squeezing your waist in indication because you momentarily forget that he's there, too transfixed at the movie set-like interior. You notice the look of surprise on the hostess' face when the two of you enter, but it disappears quickly when she puts on a mask of professionalism, bowing quickly at you.

"Mr. Park, it's a pleasure to see you again. Same table, sir?"

Jimin doesn't talk to her as affectionately as he did with Chase, but he still calls her by her first name and without a name tag on her lapel, you are even more impressed by his memory.

She takes you to the seating by the window where the view outside is of a garden with soft lights filtering from the ground. Placing a menu on your side, she rattles off the specials for tonight, though your knowledge of Italian food is rusty and you can't quite figure out the dishes she's suggesting. The hostess leaves you with a quick bow, letting you know that the waiter will be there shortly with some water.

"What do you think?" Jimin asks without looking up from the menu, legs crossed over the other as his hand rubs his chin in thought. "Anything caught your eye yet?"

Quickly scanning the menu, you find some familiar words like lasagna and beef and your eyes widen when you see that there aren't a lot of zeroes next to the particular number. Maybe you should come here again, treat yourself to a beautiful dress and a wonderful evening with yourself. "I'll have the lasagna, I think. You?"

Just as Jimin starts to speak, the waiter comes to place two glasses of water in front of you, introducing himself quickly before asking if you're ready to order. You point at the menu in lieu of actually saying words, afraid that you'll butcher the Italian words and become more of an embarrassment in front of your boss.

"I'll have the usual. Oh, and a glass of wine for the miss. Anything from '96. Red, please, " Jimin smiles warmly at the waiter, gesturing at you with an open palm.

The waiter bows after repeating the order and informing you that the food will be done in twenty minutes. When he departs, you're hit with the sudden realisation that you're alone with your boss in a fancy restaurant and the awkwardness of having nothing in common starts to creep under your skin. So, you busy yourself with staring straight outside the garden, ignoring the pointed looks that Jimin throws your way. Your mind is in a frenzy. Jimin's always been a kind boss, but he's also been somewhat cruel with his remarks on your performance, expecting nothing short of perfection from all his employees.

Does he treat all the female employees like this? A sudden thought worms its way to your mind. You can't help it, but you feel a pang of something akin to jealousy, but that's ridiculous. Sure, you find your boss extremely attractive, but you don't want to date him… right?

"Penny for your thoughts?" Jimin's voice cuts through your daydream and you turn your head to find him smirking as he drinks from the glass. The only warning you receive is a waggle of eyebrows and then he's fucking with you; allowing streaks of water to dribble down the column of his neck, Adam's apple bobbing as he takes in a large gulp.

Don't think about the dampness between your legs. You're only going to make it worse! You groan inwardly, resolutely looking away from Jimin. Yet, as you hear the clinking of rings against glass, your eyes find their way towards him again. Jimin's using a napkin the wrong way. He's patting the front of his shirt dry, that much is evident, but then, he brings it to his mouth, tugging the pillowy lips to bring attention to how pink and utterly kissable they are.

You take a shuddering gasp, legs locked tightly in place underneath the white table cloth. Much to your relief, the waiter returns and captures Jimin's attention, rattling off French names and you assume they're discussing the wine pairing for the night. It takes a while for him to choose and you use the time to really look at him.

His colourful hair is the newest addition, he's been indecisive about which colours to choose from, so he decided that the most logical option is to have all of it. Then there's his hands. You've heard laughter from inside his office when his friends come over, teasing him about how cute he is and how dainty his fingers are, though you frankly can't see it. The man is intimidation walking on two legs. You've thought about those hands ever since he gripped you in the pantry and again when he's plastered you by his side as you walk through the doors of the hotel. Finally, there's his jaw. Smooth and sharp that you'll let him cut you over and over again. Although it's definitely not on purpose, you find the tensing of his jaw incredibly attractive and you've made simple mistakes over the past few weeks just to irritate him. You're not sure how a man can be so perfect; like he's made to literally cause suffering for all mankind because of his beauty.

You blink when you realise you've been staring at him, long after the waiter has left your table. Jimin doesn't seem to mind, giving you a wink when you come to your senses. He leans back against his chair, hands resting on his knees like he's the king. Like he owns the place.

Oh.

"Do you… own this place? Wait, is this the hotel you assigned to me/" you ask dumbly, not really expecting an answer.

Jimin laughs anyway, bringing his hand to cover his mouth as he nods. "I own a large part of the building, yes."

"And all the people here?"

"I hired them. I'll let you in on a little secret, but you have to promise me that you won't breathe a word to anyone."

Jimin leans closer and as if you're pulled by a magnet, you do too, faces meeting at the middle, so close to one another that if you scooted your chair forward, your noses would bump.

"Most of the staff here have been in prison."

That's not a sentence you expected to hear.

You balk, but he continues. "I give them a fresh start by working here and if they do a good job, they can continue to climb the ranks. Being in customer service isn't easy, what with having to deal with so many rude customers, but I hope it gives them a new purpose in life." There's a wistful look in Jimin's eyes, a momentary lapse of silence before he opens his mouth again. "The audit I've placed in your hands? You're right. It's this very hotel and everything involving these employees. From their room and board, which they get for free as soon as they sign the contract, to their families. That's why I've been so hard on you. I know you'll do a tremendous job, and you've exceeded my expectations so far, but this is important to me."

As he finishes his sentence, he leans back on the chair, a small, shy smile forming on his lips. Maybe one day you'll find out why he's doing all this, but your heart blooms with pride; with joy, at the epiphany that you're working directly under a CEO that cares a little too much about people. Not that it's a bad thing.

The food arrives shortly afterward and you find that it's much easier to talk to Jimin after knowing his secret, promising him again and again that you won't say anything to anyone. The waiter returns once more as you're digging into the lasagna, bringing a bottle of wine and showing the two of you the label before he pours it into your glass. You'd be a goddamn liar if you knew what the cursive French words said, but you nod in thanks anyway, bringing the red liquor to your lips, swirling the liquid around slightly as you take the first few sips.

Fuck. This wine is better than sex.

You close your eyes, relishing in the way it coats your tongue. The bitter liquid has a sweet, chocolate aftertaste that's so delicious, you can't help the sigh that escapes your lips. You hear Jimin's tittering chuckle and when you open your eyes, he's staring straight at you, an amused smile on his features. Cheeks flushed pink, you set the wine glass down and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, hands trembling as you pick up the silverware to eat again. Dinner resumes with quiet conversations and at one point, the lights start to dim and your waiter comes back with a tea candle and a small vase filled with roses, setting it on the end of the table closer to the window.

This feels-

"...feels like a date, huh?" Jimin laughs, shaking his head to the side, unaware that he just finished your sentence in your head.

You press your lips together, trying to hide the demure smile that's threatening to take over. And perhaps it's the fact that this is the best conversation you've had with a guy in combination with the delicious wine you just finished, but you gaze into Jimin's dark eyes.

"I wouldn't mind if it is."

Giggles burst from your stomach as you take in his shocked expression. For the first time in the many years you've worked for his company, you've never seen him so wide-eyed before and, dare you say, eager.

"Your dessert, sir." The voice of the waiter seems to shock the both of you, heads snapping to his direction as he presents two bowls of vanilla ice cream. "It's on the house. Please, enjoy the rest of your evening."

You stare at the bowl in front of you, mind churning with possibilities on how you can turn the tables on him. Jimin's always been the one teasing you; is it so wrong that you want it to be your turn? With a wink, you scoop the ice cream in your mouth, letting some of it dribble on the corners of your lips as you bring your tongue to swipe the stray streaks. A quiet moan leaves your lips as you lick the spoon clean, pulling it out with a soft pop. There's a telltale sign of hitched breathing coming from the man in the grey suit and his hands shoot forward to grip at your wrist, a flame of desire burning behind his eyes.

"Don't you fucking dare."

You're not sure what he meant by that exactly, but you break free from his hold to do it again, eyes never straying from his handsome face. You relish at the shadow that passes through his features: jaw locked tight as he glowers at you, pupils so dilated that it turns his irises black. He growls in warning, silently commanding you to stop, but you don't care, the alcohol in your system makes you brave as you forget the embarrassment you've endured that night.

When the bowl is thoroughly emptied of ice cream, you take your finger and dip it in, humming as you coat your digit in the cold sweet cream before popping it in your mouth, eyes closing as you suck.

"Okay. That's it." Jimin whispers harshly, slamming his chair back as he grabs your wrist and pulls you up. "Send the bill electronically," he barks at the poor waiter, who could only bow in respect as he scurries away.

---

"You," Jimin roars when the elevator doors close. In an instant, he's trapped you effectively with his body and you're unable to move without meeting either of his hands that are slammed to the sides of your head. "What the fuck was that?"

Giggling nervously, you play with the hem of your pencil skirt as you look up at him through your lashes, tilting your head slightly to give him an innocent smile. "What's wrong? I was only eating ice cream." You bat your eyelashes for added effect, the stain on your panties growing wetter as you anticipate what he'll do next.

You're surprised, but not really, when he wraps his pretty, ringed hand around your throat, giving it a slight squeeze in warning, a sinful gasp leaving your lips when he looks at you with those lustful eyes.

"You're a fucking brat is what's wrong. And I see that you're not the slightest bit trained." Jimin's breath is hot as it fans across your cheek. As you're about to retort, he rolls his hips forward, dragging his erection against your stomach. Your eyes widen at the drag of his cock, eyes rolling backwards when he presses his knee between your legs and digging it harshly on your wet cunt. You grind on the sensation, moaning wantonly in the confined space.

"Pathetic slut," he spits, tipping your chin harshly upwards to meet his glare. "Look at you, all needy and panting when I've barely touched you. Fuck, you've ruined my pants."

Your walls flutter at the derogatory pet name, hands finding their way to grab at his collar to pitch him forward, needing his lips on yours immediately. Of course, Jimin doesn't indulge you, pulling away just as swiftly to flip you over, your cheek pressed firmly on the cold mirror of the elevator as he loosens his tie, using it to bind your wrists together.

"The safeword is 'audit'," he growls into your ear, his back firmly pressed on yours as he rolls his hips again, directly on your cunt. "Say it, so I know your head is useful for something."

You repeat the word back to him and though you know resistance is futile, you make an attempt to loosen the tie, only to have a firm hand swat at your ass. You groan at the pain, loving the way it causes your legs to shiver as you feel him press up against you again. Though you would typically prefer some privacy, it excites you to be doing something so indecent where people can walk in at any moment.

Cold metal grazes your heat as you feel his fingers drag across your panties. You arch your back and push into his hand, whining at the contact. Jimin chuckles, unrelenting in his slow pace as he traces alphabets on your clothed cunt.

"Already wet for me, dearest? Would you like me to fuck you here? Right now? Where someone can catch us at any point in time?"

You can't form a coherent sentence, tongue laden only with moans that almost resemble his name. Your breath fogs the mirror of the elevator, chest pressed up so tightly against the metal that you struggle to breathe. Jimin rucks your skirt up around your waist and strips you of your ruined panties, presumably stuffing it in his pants, a moan leaving his lips when he sees your glistening cunt for the first time. There's not a moment of hesitation when he plunges his middle finger in, the loud squelching mixed with the sounds of your moans rattling the walls of the elevator.

"Pathetic cunt," Jimin hisses and uses his other hand to tip your chin upwards, your eyes instantly meeting your reflection. The girl in front of you is disheveled, clothes wrinkly and eyes glassy as you take in the evident pleasure written on her face. "Look at you, so beautiful like this. So submissive."

When Jimin inserts another finger in your cunt, you abandon all your thoughts. You scratch the mirror in front of you, unable to find purchase in anything as your cunt gushes arousal down your legs, making a mess on the floor. Then, to your horror, the elevator dings. Your attempt at pushing Jimin off of you is met with a slap against your thighs as he picks up the pace.

"Jimin, fuck, please," your mind tries to form coherent sentences, but he takes the moment to run his thumb on your clit, halting your thoughts immediately.

Your cunt seizes his fingers when the elevator doors open and to your surprise, a grand office greets you instead of some poor shocked souls. Walls lined with bookshelves and a gigantic window on the far end casts the moon's light on a large oak desk. There's sofas in the center of the room, a glass coffee table settled between them, and a large persian carpet nestled underneath.

"Surprised?" Jimin laughs, still thrusting into you albeit he switches to a more languid pace this time. "Your cunt wrapped around me real tight when you thought we were going to get caught. Is that what you want, bitch? You like the idea of possibly getting caught?"

He doesn't let you answer, working his fingers inside of you as you howl his name. "That's not my name, slut. You'll be referring to me as 'sir' from now on," he growls, fingers curling inside you to drag across your g-spot.

After a few more thrusts, he leaves your pussy empty as he struts out of the elevator, sucking on his sodden fingers as he winks at you, his reflection smug in the mirror. You try to gather what energy you have left and you stumble after him, hands bound together and legs weak from a high that you haven't quite achieved.

---

"Tease," you pout, bottom lip quivering as the tears threaten to fall from your eyes when you regain your senses. How can a man this beautiful exude so much power?

Jimin chuckles at that, leaving his chair to lessen the distance between your bodies, rings digging painfully on your cheeks as he grips them tightly. "Tease, am I? Pray tell, how am I the tease?"

"You knew we were going to be in this office, didn't you?" you challenge. "The elevator just automatically spits us here. There's no way we were going to be caught."

Jimin laughs, shrugging his shoulders in confirmation. "I believe I wasn't the one enjoying myself. I'll make it up to you, hm? Come here."

Foolishly, you close the gap between your chests fully and Jimin dips his head lower to capture your lips in a chaste kiss. His hand tugs at the strands of your hair and you gasp, letting him run his tongue all over yours in the process. You can faintly taste yourself and you're raring to go again.

"On your knees, darling."

The dampness that pools between your legs threaten to spill on the floor as you watch Jimin finally unbuckling his pants, revealing his thick, veiny cock into his cold office. You gulp at the saliva that's about to spill from your slack jaw and you pant heavily at the sight of the red, weeping head, wondering if it'll even fit inside you.

He strokes his length a few times, groaning as his gaze drifts towards yours, whose eyes are wide in fascination. "Open," he pants, leaving traces of precum on your lips.

Moaning, you do as you're told and Jimin abruptly shoves his cock into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat in one go. You gag around his length, the burn causing fresh tears to roll off your face, but it's so good. With shallow breaths, you swallow around his length as your hand cups and plays with his balls. The sound of Jimin groaning above you is music to your ears. Your pace starts out slow, saliva clinging to his length and down your chin. Hollowing your cheekbones lets you hear more of those sweet sounds stumbling from Jimin's mouth and so, with one more shallow breath, you increase your efforts until his breathing stutters and he removes himself from you with a hiss and a hard grip on your head.

"If I knew what that mouth could do, I'd fuck you sooner," he rasps, breathing still heavy despite the tired smile he gives you. "Do you want to cum, darling? Creammy cock and make an absolute mess of yourself?"

You nod almost too eagerly.

Chuckling, Jimin moves to sit on his office chair and leaves you on the floor, crooking a finger towards you and patting his leg. With trembling legs, you pad slowly towards his lap, the tie binding your arms together making it hard for you to balance. Your blouse is sticky with a mixture of sweat and saliva, making your skin crawl. All you want is for Jimin to rip it all off, seam to seam, leaving you naked and breathless in front of him, but you say nothing as you get closer, breathing in the heady scent of his cologne instead.

Gingerly, you place both your legs on either side of the chair, trying to balance yourself in the tight space as you lower your aching core. Jimin's not helping, hands gripping firmly at the handles of the seat and a smile dancing on his lips. "If you want to cum, do it yourself, slut," he taunts, rolling his hips upwards to glide his cock on your entrance.

With what little bratty attitude left in your body, you begin to slide across his length instead, smearing his pants with your arousal. You let the moans tumble freely from your lips, mutters of expletives and his name wedged between the sounds as you continue to build your high. A triumphant smile graces your lips as you see Jimin shudder, eyes closing halfway before his grip leaves the chair and slams firmly on your ass. You keen, head thrown back at the pain, yet your cunt gushes out in response, soaking the front of his pants completely.

Jimin tuts as he chuckles, lifting you up and away from his lap and placing you face first on his oak table instead. "My slut still needs to be trained, huh? I guess the earlier punishment in the elevator isn't enough for you, hmm?" Each word is punctuated by a harsh slap on your ass, the flesh reddening with every contact from his hand.

"Ah - Jimin - no more!" you cry, tears flooding your vision at the onslaught of pain and pleasure.

At the mention of his name, Jimin growls, thrusting two fingers harshly inside you, already knuckle-deep as he curls his fingers inside your velvet walls as he continues to spank you with his free hand. "That's not my fucking name, and you know it. I have in my hands a pathetic slut who can't even follow simple instructions. What's going on in that pretty head of yours, hmm? I bet it's the thought of my cock fucking you raw on this table," Jimin laughs as you struggle, another swat on your ass makes you fall flat on the table, unable to keep your legs up any further. He takes the opportunity to land a firm hand across your weeping cunt, massaging the sensitive bud with the tip of his fingers when you shudder at the contact. You don't have to look behind you to know that the table is coated with a new layer of varnish. "You're not done yet, are you? We haven't even fucked yet. On your knees, baby."

"...Sir," you whimper, letting the force of his fingers bring you closer to the edge of oblivion.

"Good girl. Fuck, if you wanted to be punished, you should've just said so. Instead you try and try my patience. Look where that's gotten you?" He ends the statement by ceasing all movements. "Bad girls don't deserve to cum, you know?" he taunts, mocking laughter slipping from his lips as he watches you howl and thrash against the table, orgasm rudely taken away from you.

With those words he slips his ring-clad fingers away from your cunt, the force of the removal causes you to squirt some more, warm juices gushing out of you in waves. Jimin hums his approval, loving the little spasms that wrack through your body..

Jimin walks over to where your head lays and smiles, threading his dainty fingers on your hair to tug your face upwards. Your eyes are unfocused, too lost in the way he's looking at you; at the prideful smirk on his lips. His other hand comes to stroke your cheek before placing his thumb on your lips. His smirk grows into a full-on smile when your eyes close and your mouth opens, sucking and mewling around his digit. "Had enough, slut? Are you going to be a good girl now?" he whispers softly as he places a tender kiss on your sweat-covered forehead.

You nod, letting his thumb go before replying. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Relax, let me take care of you, okay?"

Jimin drops your head gently on the table, smoothing out the strands away from your face as you sigh against his gentle touch. As he walks to the other side of the desk, his fingers don't leave you, always touching a part of your body before it stops to rub circles on your lower back. You moan, arching your tired back to feel more.

"Would you prefer if I give you a massage here," he asks while he digs through your sore back momentarily before Jimin's fingers trail lower and push two digits deep into your cunt, "or here?"

Your head snaps upwards, a guttural sound ripping itself from your throat as Jimin thrusts languidly inside your sopping cunt, relishing in the tremors that shake your body. His free hand massages your ass in an attempt to soothe the smarting flesh caused by his wicked hand.

"Ah - fuck - sir," you gasp, feeling his tongue on your clit as he continues to curl his fingers inside, bringing you dangerously close to the edge with just a few strokes. Jimin hums, the vibration making you rut against his face as you struggle against your binds.

"Can you squirt again, baby?" he moans between licks. "Wanna drink you up."

"I don't know - fuck, fuck, right there, right there. Shit, I'm going to - ah - gonna cum, please, please let me cum, sir!" you keen, gripping the ropes that bind you on your back. Your face is marked with splotches of drool and tears, but you don't care that you look like a mess because Jimin's face is about to be just as ruined.

Jimin thrusts his fingers faster and his mouth sucks up all the juices that dribble freely from your cunt. He's unrelenting as the fire continues to spread across your body, the familiar waves making your toes curl. You're unsure what words you're panting out at the moment, brain and pussy filled with Jimin, Jimin, Jimin, but after a particularly deep thrust, you soak the front of his expensive dress shirt with your arousal, a high-pitched whine bouncing off the walls of his office as you finally reach your end.

His thrusts slow before stopping completely, moaning as he removes his arousal-covered face from your body. Jimin makes quick strides to loom over you before dropping his face to capture your lips in a heated kiss. He pries your mouth open with expertise, tongue chasing yours as you moan, tasting yourself. The kiss is sloppy, drool freely running down the column of your throat as he continues to fuck your mouth with his tongue. When the two of you part, gasping for air, Jimin's eyes are glassy, his jaw set as he takes a hold of your chin gently.

"Open."

Eager to please, you do as you're told, opening your mouth wide and extending your tongue outwards. Jimin tips your face upwards towards him and there's a slight movement from his jaw and throat as you realise what he's about to do. A fat glob of spit falls on your tongue and you moan, shutting your eyes. Jimin does it again, filling your mouth slowly with a pool of saliva and your own arousal. You keep the mixture in your mouth, still parted slightly, so he can see your obedience.

"Good girl. Swallow."

And as you do, your cunt clenches painfully over nothing. You whine against his hold, hands completely numb from the tie and you have no upper body strength left to keep you up. Jimin kisses you chastely once more as he places your head on the table. Moving back to the other side, he unties your wrists with deft fingers, massaging them to get the blood flow going.

"Hands and knees on the table," he commands, voice ringing from all directions.

Limbs trembling and bones screaming with exhaustion, you force yourself to comply, even as you hear your joints popping from the tension in your body. Praise trickles out of Jimin's mouth with careless abandon as he massages your hips, voice low as he remarks how good you're doing, turning your body pliant in his hands.

And - oh, there. Jimin's cockhead rubs against your weeping cunt, slapping it against your clit a few times only to bury himself all the way to the hilt, a groan slipping from his plush lips as your walls clench around him. You buck your hips backward in an effort to get used to his length, silently begging for him to move slowly at first.

"I should've fucked you ages ago. Fuck, you're so tight, baby."

Jimin ruts slowly into you, a small bit of mercy, as he lets you adjust to the stretch of his cock. You shudder at the slight burn, the fullness inside you making you writhe on the wooden table as you wiggle your hips. There's a chuckle from behind you as Jimin unsheathes himself, leaving only the head, before abruptly slamming his cock wholly inside. Your muffled whimpers and pants do nothing to stop his movements as he continues, gradually building up momentum until he's rapidly thrusting his cock deep in your pussy.

For the second time that night, Jimin brings you closer to the edge of pleasure, flame erupting from your core as he snakes a hand to play with your clit. He's unrelentless, his desire to drive you crazy fueling the snap of his hips, especially when he brings a knee on the table to fuck you deeper, the angle causing his cock to brush repeatedly on your g-spot. With only a few more thrusts, your battered cunt spasms, walls flutter tightly against his length, and you see stars when you close your eyes. There isn't enough time to give him a warning as you cum and you scream his name as you flood his table again.

Jimin growls your name, his high also rapidly approaching as his hands leave your hips to grip your hair in a makeshift ponytail, pulling you away from the table. "Fuck, this cunt was made for me. I'm going to fuck you full of my cum." His words send fresh shivers down your spine as you keen, muscles screaming with exhaustion and overstimulation as he continues to pound his cock repeatedly inside you. "Yeah? You like the idea of walking around filled with my cum? Oh, fuck, baby, you're going to be the death of me."

With a final grunt and a stutter in his hips, Jimin cums, heat filling your insides as he paints it white and you moan his name in reverence, tightening your cunt to milk him of his cum completely. He removes himself from you with a groan, eyes dark with lust as he watches his arousal oozing from your cunt. You groan tiredly when you feel his fingers fuck the cum back inside, a silent instruction to keep it in for as long as you could.

A pleased hum leaves his lips at the sight of you on the table and with a gentleness that he hasn't displayed all night, he lifts you up and carries you to the dark sofa in the center of the room, dropping your tired body on the heaps of pillows. Though he had instructed you to keep his cum inside, he leaves momentarily and comes back with a handkerchief, wiping the lower part of your body as you try to steady your breathing.

"Let me take you home. You've been wonderful," he murmurs as he sits next to you, lifting your head so it rests on his lap. His hands massage your battered limbs and you whine, the strain beginning to settle in from fucking on a hard surface.

"I have work to do…" you whisper. "This was only supposed to be dinner."

Jimin chuckles, pride twinkling in his eyes. "I'm the boss. I'm commanding you to worry about work tomorrow. After all, you've already proven yourself to me plenty." He opens his cellphone then, talking in hushed noises as his hand drifts to play with your hair. You only hear bits of conversation as your eyes droop close, the exhaustion catching up to you, rendering you close to sleep.

Your eyes snap open when Jimin whispers your name, still stroking your hair. "Come on, let's get some sleep. I've reserved a room already." He helps you up and goes to the elevator, picking up your ruined panties along the way as you blush, trying to fix your appearance to look semi-presentable.

"Do you want to know something funny?"

You tilt your chin in his direction, having just finished putting your hair in a bun.

"Our room number is 69."

thank you so much for reading. please feel free to like and reblog to share the story with everyone! my inbox is always open for kind words and comments!

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Posted: 6.22.21 at 2:20am CST

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Eyes like Stars [Bobby Axel x Reader Multi-Chapter, 18+ Smut] Chapter 10 – Spite.

Read on AO3 / Read Chapter 9 [AO3] / [Tumblr] / Chapter Masterlist. / Fic Playlist.

18+, explicit smut, multi-chapter read.

"You know a junkie can't satisfy a woman like you." / "Bobby's new girl? I can tell from that clueless look in your eyes, aww."

With your habit spiraling into a full blown addiction alongside Bobby, gone are the days the two of you spoke about being clean as things take a turn for how they've always been for Bobby. Both influencing each other in one way or another, your boss has noticed everything you've done at work and confronts you with the prospect of losing your job. Confiding in Bobby alone, there's nothing else that matters to you or can get to you, however, you aren't the only girl Bobby's made feel that way before. Lindsey's release from prison means nothing good for either of you as she comes to meet you as a reminder of what happened when she got too close simply for the sake of spiting you, Bobby, and anyone else you two call a friend.

[WARNINGS]: Mentions of drug abuse / Drug dealing / Mentions of prostitution / Fluff / Dirty talk.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: A chapter with no smut but with a continuing plot that will lead to smut?! 😱 What a surprise this time! 😂 Some much needed Bobby fluff with some ex-girlfriend drama Bobby thought he himself forgot about is just what we needed this chapter. 😏 It seems not only have actions not gone unnoticed in this chapter, but neither have old feeling no matter how much time has passed and spite doesn't always need a reason to hurt. 👀

Bobby’s release from prison marks the end of his and Helen’s relationship and you find yourself spending more time with Bobby and taking care of him after everything he’s been through. Working and living in Manhattan as a college drop-out, you distance yourself from Helen who Bobby and you take solace with one another in hopes to get out of the toxic lifestyle of drug use—promising each other to start a new life with one another and get clean. Falling in love with Bobby, you experience a mutual, passionate and loving relationship with its own highs and lows that promises to bloom into something more serious but also can threaten to collapse. As Bobby’s new girlfriend, your relationship hangs on a thread with old skeletons coming back into Bobby’s life, relapses, and a new panic on the horizon that threatens to undo it all.

"Alright, Emily," Sykes lets out a deep, relaxed huff as he leans back in his office chair the moment you punch in for work within his office. "Now that you're clocked in and on work time, I'd rather have you actually doing something for once in your shift instead of sitting there doodling in your agenda."

"Sir?" You hide every ounce of disappointment and anxiety growing in you as you hesitantly pull your punch card away from the machine.

"Believe me, I know." Sykes gives a little chuckle, waving you off with his hand. "Had we actually implemented a legitimate system of work for our secretaries like everyone else, we may be more productive as a company." His eyes fall to the two separate stacks of documents and papers on the corner of his desk. "Well! Let me be the first to get you to do some work, then. These two babies here—" Sykes pats the top of the paper piles, "require your able organization skills and grace, Miss Sutcliffe."

You stare at Sykes in shock, waiting for the punchline to his joke, but you can tell he's serious as he slowly raises his eyebrows at you, giving you the universal "why-are-you-still-here?" look.

"Well? Questions? Comments? Concerns?" Sykes nudges the pile closer to you.

"Sir, I don't understand—" You begin, knowing there's no way you could finish a stack of paperwork up to your knees in length in one, eight-hour shift.

"What don't you understand, sweetheart?" Sykes' voice is as obnoxious as it is conniving.

"I can't finish all of this in one shift if that's what you're implying." You gesture to the stacks of paperwork. "And along with my other duties—"

"Yapping on the phone and writing down meeting dates in an agenda is hardly work, Emily." Sykes' expression twists into disappointment. "Come on, I'm sure you know that by now. Besides, it's certainly not my fault if the rest of your colleagues are incompetent to work through their daily tasks efficiently, correct? This is your share of the work, and you can thank them and your little friend, Mason, for vacationing at the wrong time."

"This is the lion's share of the work." Half of you wants to push further, and the other half instantly regrets the words coming out of your mouth, but now you'd be lying to yourself if you said you'd simply take this amount of work alone and be fine with it.

"Okay." Sykes nods slowly at you, dragging out his words. "Is that all?" He picks up his steaming cup of black coffee, raising it to his lips. "I'd really like to get back to my morning routine now, and I miss the extra space on my desk."

"Why are you doing this to me?" You find the words blurting right out of your mouth.

The pleased little smile fades off of Sykes' lips almost instantly. He freezes, keeping his coffee mug up to his lips as his eyes read out how shocked he is to hear you finally snap at him.

"You're doing this on purpose to me." You gesture to the stacks of paperwork, "I've never seen anyone handle this much work, and I've been working here longer than you. If we had a productivity issue, why wouldn't HR send out a memo about it? It's my job to pass those around the office, but I haven't heard anything, so I know you're lying and making this up."

"Excuse me?" Sykes furrows his brows.

"Just stop it." You feel your throat beginning to tighten, knowing you didn't come in here with an intention to argue at nine in the morning but can't keep yourself content and calm any longer. "You're being cruel to me on purpose. You made me go out and deliver the same coffee to you three times alone yesterday afternoon, and I fell behind on all of my work because I was running errands for you. Why are you being this cruel to me and me alone?"

"What?" Sykes scoffs, the offended look fading off of his expression. "It's an easy job, fetching refreshments for your workplace. Is the junkie complaining about that now?"

'Junkie?' Your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach as every muscle in your body tenses up. A wave of anxiety hits you, and a knot of emotions pulling at your gut causes you to instantly feel nauseous.

Having gotten the exact response he's wanted from you, Sykes gives out an amused laugh and nods at you. "That's right. That's what you are, isn't it? Not that you're denying it either. You can keep that in mind, you know. I know you a lot better than you think." Sykes sets down his coffee, leaning in closer to you over his desk. "You know why I do this to you, Emily? Why? Why should I make you do some work for once in your life as far as I'm concerned, right? Why shouldn't I leave you unsupervised by your desk, so you can invite your junkie boyfriend and fuck while shooting up in the bathroom here for the next hour, right?"

Your heart pounds in your chest as you're unable to find any words to reply back to Sykes with. Stunned and in horror of how he's essentially figured everything out, all you can do is remain still, stare, and listen to Sykes continue.

"You're too cute to replace," Sykes smirks back at you. "Even if your junkie boyfriend—"

"He's not a junkie!" You snap back, feeling anger pull you out of your shocked trance. "Don't call him that—"

"You're right," Sykes narrows his eyes, raising his voice much louder than yours. "I really shouldn't go around calling people names when I can just call the police instead. For your sake, Emily, baby, I really hope your little boyfriend that looks like you pulled him out the trash really isn't a junkie. It would be a shame if the security guard downstairs—who also happens to be a police officer—would come by as suspicious as he already is and humiliate both you and your boyfriend by searching you two, right?"

You swallow hard, taking a step back from Sykes's desk now out of complete fear. You know you can't afford to lose your job, and if it isn't for the fact you'd be unable to pay your bills and rent, it's a shame of facing your parents like this again after dropping out of university with F's and a heroin addiction.

"Mhm." Sykes nods back at you, smiling happily as he sits back down comfortably in his seat. "That's right. So, are you going to do your work now, or are we going to have to take this conversation to the next level?"

"I'll do the work." You croak out, your arms feeling completely weak as you stack the second pile of paperwork on top of the first and pick it up.

"Good." Sykes takes a sip of his scalding coffee, watching you turn around and head for his office door. "Oh, and one more thing, Emily."

You stop your movements but refuse to turn around and face Sykes, hiding the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"You know a junkie can't satisfy a woman like you," Sykes comments with a wry smirk. "Remember your place and represent the company first before your own sexual needs. People see the secretary before they praise the district manager."

You didn't need anyone else to tell you that the amount of work you had to do for the day was simply impossible to take on all by yourself and in a span of eight hours, even if you didn't take any of your work breaks or focused solely on it.

Faxing, photocopies, editing, and mailing out copies were just barely scratching the surface on your list of things to do with the two heavy stacks of paperwork Sykes gave you. You barely knew where to start, and with each sheet you picked up, there was a completely different procedure to handle it.

While working, you forced yourself to hold back your tears, especially when anyone else walked by. You kept your head low and your attention glued to your paperwork, but you weren't stupid.

You could tell your coworkers pitied you by the looks on their faces when they passed by you. Nobody looked at you, to begin with, but now with the massive stacks of paperwork piled up on your desk, you received double looks from just about everyone.

It's not that you were inexperienced, clueless, or incapable of doing the work given to you—it was simply too much. Realistically speaking, paperwork like this would need to be evenly shared throughout the office, and even then, it may take more than a week to get through properly.

You knew deep down this wasn't an ordinary work task or Sykes thinking you were the only person able to handle this—it was because Sykes was punishing you. If it had to come down to doing more, dull work—much more than you can handle—or getting fired outright, you knew you really didn't have a choice.

At this point, you didn't know what was worse: getting fired and losing your only source of income or getting fired and being inevitably exposed for the reasoning being your drug usage to your parents.

Either scenario would have been enough to make you break down into sobs at work, and you surprised yourself today by even getting through the entirety of your shift, to begin with.

A quarter of the first stack was halfway done by the time you clocked out. You had never dressed five minutes earlier and clutched your bag, ready to burst out of work like this in your life.

You didn't even look Sykes in the eye when you went into his office to clock out, and as Sykes was busy stuffing his face with a donut and having a non-work-related, hour-long conversation on the telephone, he didn't bother to look at you either.

Still, if it's one thing you actually looked forward to doing after one of the worst workdays of your life, it was finally getting out and over to Marcie's place to meet up with Bobby and the rest of your friends.

Itching for a fix or a drink—or perhaps both—although you know you're not as close to Marcie, Chico, Hank, and the others as Bobby is, you know your friends and your boyfriend has never turned you down or made you feel as unwanted as you did at work. The thought of this alone was what kept you rushing faster down the street to meet everyone.

[5 PM. ]

The one other thing that comes to you as a pleasant and welcome surprise is the fact that Bobby answers the door as you stand outside of Marcie's suite—not her.

In an instant, you feel your heart skip a beat at the sight of your boyfriend leaning against the doorway before you, dressed in a navy long-sleeved shirt, jeans, and with his hair ruffled over his bandana.

Bobby's eyes light up when he sees you, too, with a boyishly handsome smile growing over his lips. "My baby's here." He announces to everyone else in the suite.

From where you stand, you can see Chico sitting on an old dining chair with Irene next to him in front of her vanity mirror, brushing her hair. Hank sits on the edge of the bed near her, in mid-conversation with Chico, and all eyes turn to the door as Bobby embraces you lovingly in his arms.

You melt at Bobby's touch, hugging him tightly. You give a little squeal as he picks you up effortlessly by your hips, giving your ass a little squeeze as he takes you inside Marcie's suite and kicks the door shut with his heel.

"Mm, my Emily. She's finally here." Bobby nuzzles your neck, planting a little kiss as you blush—a little embarrassed to see everyone else looking at you two. "Hi."

"Hi." You breathe back, pressing your forehead against Bobby's. "Missed me?"

"Always." Bobby steals a kiss from your lips. "If you weren't comin', I wouldn't last a minute here."

"Hey, hey, it's Emily!" Hank grins, greeting you.

Chico raises his head and beams back at you in acknowledgment, and Marcie waves at you as she continues chewing her bubblegum. "Hiya, Em."

"How was work?" Chico asks you.

"I'm just glad to have clocked off; let's put it that way. Good to see you guys again." You give everyone a wave, feeling Bobby's hands gently rubbing over your hips as he pulls you to sit with him on the bed.

"What happened, baby?" Bobby's eyes flash with concern and anger. "Is it your goddamn boss again? He ain't pissin' you off again, is he?"

"They always are. They always are…" Chico pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket along with a small wad of cash. "It's why people are quittin' their jobs these days—corporate assholes."

"You work at Way Enterprises, whose surprised?" Hank chuckles quietly. "They got the worst of the worst with their little hierarchy."

"My own district manager hates me, and he makes it very apparent with all the work he gives me." You frown, resting your head on Bobby's shoulder. "I just had the shittiest day, all thanks to him, and all I want to do is go strangle him every time I think about it."

"You should turn him into a trick." Marcie jokes, smirking back at you. "I can handle all these big corporate hotshots myself."

"That's one way to get him to shut up." Hank laughs out. "Maybe he needs to lighten up a bit if he's the stuffy office type."

"Maybe." You giggle in response, noticing Bobby's expression lightens seeing your smile.

Bobby's muscles relax as he rubs up and down your arms, peppering little kisses over your cheeks. "Ain't nobody in this world who can tell my girl what to do."

You giggle, clasping your hands around Bobby's shoulders. "And just like that, you make it all go away."

"I try," Bobby murmurs back to you softly, keeping his voice quiet and audible only to you.

"Maybe he's figured she's a regular, huh?" Hank glances at the two of you. "You all have such a stellar reputation on the streets, to begin with."

Marcie glances back to the front door as she hears light knocking, having already expected it. "Don't act like you're not one of us, Mr. Burglar." She scoffs, setting her hairbrush down and making her way to the door. "Aren't we all shootin' up the same thing at the end of the day?"

"She has a point," Chico replies, holding back a grin.

"Who is it?" You peek up. "Are we expecting anyone else?"

"Oh yeah, it's just Lindsey." Marcie brushes off any notion of importance, opening up the door. "She'll be here for Hank's deal."

"Uh oh, Liiiindseeeey." Chico quietly sing-songs to himself.

"Whose Lindsey?" Your eyes dart over at Hank and Chico, but they avoid your gaze.

"She's a drug addict, except she's proud of it," Bobby tells you, and you can pick up on how unimpressed and somewhat annoyed he sounds from the tone of his voice. "So she's a nobody."

Before you can say anything else, the door opens, and your head spins to see an unfamiliar face.

Lindsey, Burt's daughter and Bobby's ex-girlfriend stands by the door with a smug look on her face like she's what everyone's been waiting for to start the party. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a messy bun, she wears faint and smudged black eyeliner over her eyes with a cheap, cherry red lipstick and wears a faded band T-Shirt you can't quite make out with a pair of ripped skinny jeans.

"Hope I haven't delayed my own bad habit. Hiya, honey." Lindsey smirks with anticipation at Marcie before the two join for a hug.

Your eyes dart up and down over the unfamiliar girl before you notice Bobby taking a cigarette from Chico and completely ignoring her.

"I don't nearly see enough of you!" Marcie laughs, "come in, come in. Hank's gonna give you your piece today."

Bobby lights his cigarette with his free hand, still keeping his arm wrapped around your waist and not reacting to the sight of Lindsey before him.

For all you know, Bobby and Lindsey don't even know each other, and you certainly had never seen her before or heard her name from anyone else.

"Oh, it's a party, huh?" Is the first thing Lindsey says to all of you the moment she steps into Marcie's apartment. "The whole gang is here."

Your eyes slightly widen to see her facing you and Bobby directly, speaking to the two of you directly instead. "Remember me, Bobby baby?"

"I'm not the one selling you your shit." Bobby nonchalantly replies, taking a drag out of his cigarette. "Hank's right here."

Chico chuckles at the sight of the two finally seeing each other face to face after two years but chokes on his own cigarette smoke halfway through his laughter.

"Lindsey!" Hank greets her warmly, but Lindsey outright ignores him instead.

Before you can react further, Lindsey redirects her attention to you. You can tell right away that this girl has a nasty "I own it all" attitude and a strong personality just from the tone of her voice and her body language.

"Mm, and who are you?" Lindsey asks you, "Bobby's new girl? I can tell from that clueless look in your eyes, aww."

Chico and Marcie seem absolutely unbothered by Lindsey's actions and words, returning back to what they were doing as if they expected this from her or simply didn't care at all.

"What's your problem, man?" Bobby speaks out for you, looking instantly annoyed. "Stop botherin' her. She don't wanna talk to you."

"Can she even talk, to begin with?" Lindsey snorts, gesturing to Bobby's hands wrapped around your hips. "Hey, sweetheart," Lindsey speaks to you in a condescending tone like one would speak to a child, "did you know I just got out of a two-year sentence thanks to Bobby?"'

"Ooh." Hank chuckles quietly, looking at you and Bobby for a response.

You furrow your brows in confusion and disgust at Lindsey's immediate forwardness. "I wouldn't know anything about that or you."

Bobby directly answers Lindsey. "Last time I checked, I wasn't the one walkin' around the place with heroin bags stickin' outta my jacket where Hotch hangs around."

Lindsey rolls her eyes, beginning to walk over to Hank. "You're always so considerate, Bobby. Anyways, I'm not here for a pity party." She eyes Hank with impatience, "you're gonna give me what I want, big guy?"

"Prices are goin' up, darlin'." Hank gives Lindsey a lazy smirk, taking the wad of cash she's handed to him from her pocket. "This'll only get you so far with me now."

"Ignore her," Bobby murmurs in your ear, brushing a curtain of your hair behind your ear. "She's like to everyone—just desperately looking for attention."

"I can hear you, you know?" Lindsey raises her voice, shooting a look at Bobby as she takes the bag of heroin from Hank. "I get it, I get it. I'm the ex, right?" She shoves the bag into her back pocket, extending out her arms.

'The ex…?' Lindsey strikes you as the type of outspoken girl who'd cause nothing but trouble.

Everything about her makes you uneasy and uncomfortable, especially now that she's practically given away the fact she's an addict and clearly has some romantic history with Bobby nobody's told you about.

Lindsey takes the cigarette out of Chico's hand and puts it in the corner of her mouth before winking at Bobby. "Though if what your brother is sellin' isn't enough for me, I could always ball you for a bigger piece. Isn't that right?"

"You're gonna say that dumb shit to me in front of my girl?" Bobby raises his brows in disappointment at her. "Fuck no."

Irene chimes in, "Bobby's in love with Emily now, haven't you heard, honey?"

"Emily, huh?" Lindsey repeats your name with venom, feeling a surge of jealousy rush through her for the first time in two years. "So you're actually Bobby's new girl. Huh. Well then, it's a good thing I asked, but now your little girlfriend probably thinks I'm a whore for sayin' that."

Having only thought of you as someone hanging around Bobby solely for a fix or a quick fuck, things have immediately grown personal, and Bobby can tell just by the familiar look in Lindsey's eyes.

Forcing yourself not to roll your eyes back in front of Lindsey's face, you've already picked up well on the fact she may as well be no different from Sykes from the way she speaks to get attention and reactions from those around her.

"Get lost, Lindsey." Bobby looks back at Lindsey with a severe annoyance in his eyes, passing his cigarette over to you.

You lock eyes with Lindsey for just a moment as you take a drag out of Bobby's cigarette, letting the smoke linger between your lips.

While your disposition towards Lindsey is indifferent in the sense you literally don't know who she is, nor do you have any history with her, Lindsey looks at you with an animosity you've never seen before.

Years of letting bygones be bygones, ignoring irritated or dirty looks, refusing to cause a scene, and make yourself look lower than the person searching for a reaction in front of you pays off well in front of Lindsey as it would to anyone else.

For all you care, you two may never even see each other again. This'll go no further, and Lindsey's face will blend in with the crowds of junkies and the homeless in the crowds again, even if she chooses to cling to what she knows of Bobby and the others here.

Lindsey diverts her attention from you to Bobby as if she's expecting him to say more, but with all of this occurring in mere seconds, Lindsey keeps quiet before giving out a little scoff. "This place has really seen better faces, Marcie."

"It sees them," Marcie speaks back in a distracted tone as she begins to braid a piece of her hair—completely unaware Lindsey's already making her way back to the door. "And it sees my tricks. That's as high quality as you're gonna get up here."

Bobby's gaze falls back down to you the moment he sees Lindsey move back towards the door and walk out without another word or glance back to either of you.

"My original wake-up call," Bobby chuckles quietly, gesturing to the cigarette you hand back to him.

"Mm, very much needed." You let out a soft exhale, ignoring the background conversation Chico and Hank have with one another as you lean back into Bobby's arms. "So," you peek up at Bobby shyly, "I'm your girl, huh?"

"That's right. You're my girl." Bobby gives your cheek a sweet kiss.

"Is that what you told her too?" You can't help the playful, teasing smile forming over your lips.

You're struggling to keep a serious but curious expression when you ask Bobby the question, seeing if you could maybe catch him admitting to you his varied and extended history with God knows how many women to you now of all times and places.

"I'm supposed to be the jealous one, eh?" Bobby gives out a soft laugh, amused by your question rather than surprised or concerned about it. "Nah, if I told her that—" Bobby flicks off the ashes from the tip of his cigarette, "then we'd probably still be together."

"They know her." You say quietly, gesturing to Hank and Chico with your eyes.

"Mhmm." Bobby nods, continuing to smoke his cigarette with one hand. "She was hard to miss like two years ago for one reason and one reason only." Bobby locks eyes with you, raising a curious brow. "You can guess why right?"

"She used to sell?" You ask back.

"Uh-huh." Bobby blows smoke under his breath, avoiding doing so directly to your face. "She's Bert's daughter—that old fuck who runs the convenience store not too far from here? Yeah, she had the luck to keep and deal that shit right out of their depo, right up until she got caught."

You wince, just imagining how messy that entire ordeal must have been. "Did they raid the place?"

"No," Bobby admits, surprised himself as he laughs again. "She got caught selling high school kids powder, and then old Burt disowned her when Hotch took him down to the police station to see what his darling daughter was up to, and that was that."

"She mentioned she did two years for that?" You're taken back by the leniency of her sentence.

"That's what we all said, baby." Bobby plants a little kiss over your forehead before leaning his head on your shoulder. "But Lindsey's always had options, even before she snorted her first line. And by options, I mean blackmail."

"Blackmail?" You blink. "Like what exactly?"

"Like…" Bobby gives his head a little shake, seeming just as surprised as you to admit it, "maybe fucking Hotch from time to time to let off some steam, and that kind of thing could have fucked up that narco's entire life."

'Damn.' You snuggle onto Bobby's chest, resting your thighs over his lap as he continues explaining to you.

"But even someone who gets around like Lindsey can't get away from the law." Bobby takes a deep drag, pausing for a moment. "Two years was well enough for her, but I'm sure Hotch's gonna be more careful where he sticks his dick in from now on."

"Speaking from experience?" A grin breaks out over your lips.

"Oh, sure." Bobby laughs before choking on the cigarette smoke, coughing a little, and waving off the smoke in front of him. "Everyone has their regrets, right?"

"You tell me." You slip the shortened cigarette out of Bobby's mouth, putting it between your lips.

"I met her because I needed a fix and fast back in those days." Bobby's eyes dart over yours as he watches you smoke. "And she had what I wanted, not only then but after that, so…" He gives a little nod, "We met because I was addicted to heroin."

"The beginning of every great love story." You break out into a laugh with Bobby. "I don't really have to ask if you two were together, though, right?"

"I dunno, do you?" Bobby's eyes flash with amusement.

"Hmm, I won't answer that." You put out the cigarette in the nearby ashtray riddled with cigarette ends.

"We were," Bobby confesses, waiting for a reaction. "Just over a year or so, but it wasn't a serious relationship or anythin'."

"Oh yeah?" You take Bobby's hands into yours, giving them a warming rub. "Why's that?"

"Relationships built on heroin use only never last." Bobby bops the tip of your nose with his before stealing a kiss from your lips. "If that's all you want from each other, you should never be together."

"Does that happen a lot?" You whisper against Bobby's lips.

"Enough for me to know better now, yeah." Bobby nods, caressing the side of your cheek with the back of his hand. "They come and go, so do I, but if you think for a moment that I've looked at any of them the way I look at you and want you, then you're wrong."

You can't help but smile against Bobby's next gentle kiss, keeping an arm wrapped around his shoulder. "And this isn't damage control?" You tease back.

"Damage control is me havin' dirty thoughts about you?" He chuckles, giving your hips a squeeze.

"Maybe you have to make it up to me." You blush, watching the movement of Bobby's hands.

"You know I'd just lay in bed all day waitin' for you if you wanted me to," Bobby lowers his tone to keep it only audible to you. "I would. I want you to do all that to me whenever you want. Anything."

"Anything?" You gaze up into his eyes.

"Anything," Bobby repeats breathily. "'Cause you walked in 'ere all frustrated, so I couldn't help but think what you'd do if you came home to me like that, ya know?"

"Like tie your hands up to the bedpost until I have you moaning my name?" Blush stings at your cheeks as you feel arousal beginning to grow inside of you.

"Oh, yeah, baby. Anything you want, just like that." Bobby can't hide the fact the very mention of the idea turns him on immensely. "You know I've been dyin' to take you home today?"

"Bobby…" The fact that there are other people in the room, including Bobby's brother, who could hear this only fuels your excitement further.

"I want you," Bobby laces his hands with yours, giving them a squeeze as he ignores his surroundings completely. "And nothing else, or I want nothing at all."

Just before the two of you are about to share a kiss, you flinch and gasp out in sudden surprise to hear two people pounding their fists as aggressively as possible onto the door. "Security! Open up!"

"What the hell, man?" Hank raises a brow.

"What?!" Marcie calls back, impatiently putting down her hairbrush. "What the hell do you want now?!"

"Christ, Marcie." Chico glances at the front door in worry, expecting Hotch on the other end in some kind of unexpected bust or that Lindsey was caught carrying smack while coming out of here.

"Bobby—"

"I got you, baby. Shhh," Bobby shoots a nasty look over at the door as if he's both expected it and not phased by it. "It's just the stupid building security, don't worry 'bout it."

Holding you tightly in his arms, Bobby moves you both over to the edge of the bed, furthest away from the door, protectively. If anyone bursts in, the first person they'll see is Bobby with his back turned to them, not you curled up in his arms.

"Open up!" The pounding grows louder and more insistent.

"Okay, okay!" Marcie raises her voice even louder, "I'm comin'! Relax! Jesus."

Just as she throws open the door, you peek up a little from Bobby's shoulder to spot the landlord you saw downstairs in the lobby alongside one of the security guards.

Bobby glances over out of curiosity, but the look of being caught or busted doesn't read in his, Chico's, or Hank's expression.

"Shit, man, what are we gonna do?" Chico mumbles.

"I got nothing on me." Hank puts his hands up in surrender. "Are they gonna kick us out?"

You can't help but feel immensely anxious at the sudden burst in and can tell from the distraught look on Marcie's face that she's in fear of what's going to happen next.

"No, no—" Marcie attempts to shut the door back on them, "I told you I'd have it! I'd have it by the end of this week. Why are you—"

"That's enough, Marcie." The landlord narrows his eyes, gazing inside the suite with disgust as the security guard slams the door back open with his arm. "We've given you more than enough time—why do all the other residents pay their rent, but you don't?"

"OUT, NOW!" The security guard gestures out to all of you. "This suite is being cleared immediately. Exit now."

"I'm goin', man, I'm goin'." Chico lowers his hat over his forehead purposely before scurrying out.

"You can't just—" Marcie gasps out in shock as you and Bobby quickly rise to your feet with Hank and Chico. "You said you'd give me more time! How is this fucking fair?! What the hell is going on?!"

"God fuckin' damn it." You hear Bobby mutter under his breath, putting one protective arm around you while holding your hand with the other and taking you out of the room.

"Downstairs, now." The security guard stares back at both Chico and Hank. "Your names are recorded, so don't bother trying to leave before I have a chance to pat either of you down. Understand?"

"Why?" Hank's face twists in disgust. "The hell did we do to any of you?"

"Keep it moving, big guy." The security guard rolls his eyes. "It'll be as clear as day the moment you get both of your asses downstairs. Don't make me tell either of you twice."

"What's going on?" You breathe back to Bobby just as you move past the landlord, whose head turns back to you.

"Nothing's going on, lady." The landlord rolls his eyes, stepping aside briefly for Hank and Chico to exit. "I don't run this establishment for free; all the rules are clear—rent is due weekly."

"Come on, man, let's dip." Ignoring Marcie entirely, Chico turns on his heel and heads for the elevators with Hank, who shoots Bobby a cautionary look over his shoulder as he's leaving.

"Fuck's wrong with you, man?" Bobby furrows his brows, holding you away from the landlord as the security guard pulls Marcie out forcefully by her arm. "You enjoy this shit, don't you? It's fuckin' 5 PM, and collecting rent just came to your mind?"

"What about my things?" Marcie cries out. "I have to get my—"

"It'll all be handled, lady." The security guard blocks the entrance back into the suite. "Just get downstairs with your friends like I said, and don't cause any trouble."

"It's been overdue for three weeks, Mr. Axel," the landlord leans in closer to Bobby's face, now practically yelling at him. "I know you sure as hell aren't telling me how to run my own business as if you pay your own rent on time."

"Fuck you, man. I know you sure as hell miss when I graced these fuckin' halls." Bobby scowls back.

"Hank! Chico!" Marcie runs a shaky hand through her hair, rushing towards the elevators.

"Yeah, yeah, tough guy." The security guard brushes off Bobby's comments, locking up the suite. "If you don't want the police to get involved, shut your trap and take your pretty little girlfriend and yourself downstairs."

When you and Bobby don't instantly move, the security guard scowls and points down the hallway towards the elevator. "I SAID MOVE IT!"

"Don't raise your voice at me, asshole." Bobby points a finger in the guard's face as you frown, hugging onto his arm tightly. "We heard you the first fuckin' time, fuck's sakes." Bobby's tone softens immediately as he looks over at you as the two of you begin to walk to the elevator. "Come on, baby. Everything's fine."

"Marcie never told me she was struggling to pay the rent." You let out a shaky breath, quickly pressing the elevator button.

"Me neither," Bobby mumbles—his eyes filled with anger. "Wish she would have fuckin' told us. I don't know what she's gonna do now." Just as the elevator's doors begin to slowly slide open, Bobby looks back towards the corridor where Marcie's suit is and shouts, "it must be someone first fuckin' time ever yellin'!"

You clasp a hand over your mouth to hold back a laugh, knowing this is absolutely the most inappropriate time to as both of you step into the elevator.

"Dumb fuck." Bobby comments, hitting the main floor button. "Just bargin' into people's rooms and humiliating them out like that. Yeah, Marcie's in the shit for sure."

Regardless of the sudden anxiety and situation you've been placed into, there's still a sense of safety and calmness lingering over you by Bobby's side.

"Don't you think we should do something for her?" You peek back at Bobby with saddened eyes. "She has a kid, and she can't just live out on the street."

Bobby sure as hell isn't going to let anyone talk down to you, yell at you, or even come close to touching you—no matter the situation at hand and it certainly wouldn't come from Bobby either.

"Marcie isn't livin' out on the street, so as long as Hank, Sammy and Chico aren't." Bobby runs a hand through his ruffled hair as the elevator begins to move down. "Wannabe 'landlord' is a pain in the fuckin' ass, but this is beyond us now, Em."

"What do you mean?" You ask as Bobby rubs your arms up and down reassuringly.

"Marcie's not your friend, baby," Bobby tells you quietly, sternness crossing his expression. "She's got other places to go, trust me. If you're givin' her somethin', you're not payin' her rent. You're payin' her habit, right?"

"Right." You let out a soft sighing, knowing what Bobby said is true as much as you wish it wasn't. "I still feel bad for her. This is completely unfair. It's like they did this on purpose to bust us or humiliate us."

"This kinda shit used to happen to us a few times a week." Bobby laces a hand with you as the elevator doors slide open. "Anyone livin' here is used to being treated like shit."

You've never paid your rent late, let alone ever came to a point where you couldn't afford it, but you know your own pain and frustration of paying your own bills come from your insufferable job and your parents' support—who are clearly much better off than most.

You feel helpless and anxious about the situation at hand, as if you're somehow to blame for it, although you know you can't help, nor are you truly involved.

The thought of Bobby being kicked out of a shitty, rat, and cockroach-infested "apartment suite" and having to bounce from one grimy place to another is enough to bring you to the verge of tears.

You assume Bobby's been in the same situation and much worse before, but hate to even think about it. Leaving Bobby helpless like that out in the cold, dirty streets while he's puking up his habit and just trying to live is borderline cruel, and it angers you but does so in a way where all you want to do is hold onto Bobby and keep him all to yourself—safe and happy.

There's a heavy sense of protectiveness you carry over Bobby as he does for you. Bobby may show his protective and jealous side towards you more through his mannerisms and outspoken behavior to others, but it's no different for you.

'Bobby, baby…' You glance up at your boyfriend, who remains more annoyed and tired that he has to go through this with everyone again than anything else. If anything, all you want to do is take him home right now and just forget this shitty day altogether.

Bobby gives your hand a gentle squeeze, leading you out of the elevator and back down to the lobby. At the same time, both of your eyes dart to the door leading to the staircase across the lobby to see the "landlord" and the security guard's head come out.

Standing by the front desk remains Marcie and Hank standing side by side as Hank consoles her quietly. You notice a distraught, pained look over Marcie's face as she covers half of it, weeping softly and shaking her head to Hank.

Approaching the front desk, the "landlord" holds onto a bundle of spare keys in his hand attached to a tattered, old lanyard and keeps his finger specifically on one newly added key—the one to Marcie's suite.

"I was beginning to think you wouldn't make it." Bobby calls out to the "landlord" sarcastically as both of you turn to the front desk.

"Me too." A feminine, obnoxious voice speaks out.

You're the first to notice Lindsey behind the front table, lazily slouching down in an old chair.

Lindsey plays with a handful of rusty keys with a pleased smirk over her face. "A place with charm like this can lose its meaning if you don't pay your rent, right?"

Bobby exchanges a glance with you. As you appear a little surprised to see Lindsey still here to begin with, the realization hits both of you, and Bobby appears immediately pissed.

Before you can even pull back onto Bobby's arm or stop him, Bobby lets go of your hand and immediately lunges himself angrily at the front desk. "You fuckin' whore—you started all of this, didn't you?!"

"Bobby!" You gasp out, trying to pull him back by his arm.

"Ooh, don't shoot the messenger, baby." Lindsey lets out a laugh, holding her hands up in surrender. "Listen to your little girlfriend."

"Bobby, Bobby!" The "landlord" rolls his eyes as he and the security guard part ways. "Calm down; you know this is routine."

"Routine?!" Bobby scowls back at the "landlord," protectively holding out his arms before you to prevent you from getting closer to both the "landlord" and Lindsey. "Your little friend before you did, you haven't ever done this kind of shit together, so what gives?!"

"Why are you so concerned with Marcie's suite when you should worry about the roof over your own head?" The "landlord" asks Bobby calmly, used to his outbursts.

"That's because he's living the high life," Lindsey smirks wryly. "He's not renting out shitholes weekly anymore, is he?"

"Nobody was talking to the dumb slut." Bobby scowls at Lindsey, redirecting his anger to the "landlord" as you hug onto his arm. "She's my friend, and she doesn't fucking deserve this. Nobody living here does. You think these people make an honest living with a paycheque every two weeks to pay your ass on time?"

"Oh well, that's their problem." The "landlord" brushes Bobby off, smiling back down at Lindsey. "Miss Myer here did the right thing letting me know; otherwise, how am I supposed to keep this place running for the tenants that do pay?"

You lock eyes with Lindsey as she tilts her head to the side, giving you a playful, innocent smile as if Marcie isn't sobbing over Hank's shoulder just a few feet away from her.

Not only did Lindsey get her fix from Hank without any trouble, but she ratted out on Marcie's late rent for absolutely no reason other than the fact that she could to amuse herself with how well it worked.

Lindsey twirls a piece of her blonde hair around her finger, humming to herself as she gazes up at the "landlord." With the way that the two exchange glances with one another even in a split second that nobody else would notice if they weren't paying close enough attention, you and Bobby are both aware that there's more than just "conversation" going on between Lindsey and the "landlord."

"Bobby, baby." You murmur softly, pulling him away from the front desk. "They're not worth it. He's not going to change his mind. He took her keys."

"Fucker." Bobby mutters under his breath—his expression only softens when he gazes down at you.

"And look," you whisper, gesturing with your eyes to the front door of the lobby to see a police car parking upfront and a mess of blonde hair exiting the driver's seat. "Hotch is here."

"Great." Bobby says aloud, rolling his eyes and looking back at the "landlord." "You got what you wanted, and now you called the cops too? What's Hotch gonna do, pay Marcie's rent for her?"

"I didn't call Hotch." The "landlord" shrugs carelessly. "Does it bother you we have regular policing on the premises?"

"I'd hardly call that policing," Hank comments dryly.

"I'd mind my own business if I were you." The "landlord" shoots him a dirty look.

"She has a baby. Are you really that heartless?" You speak up, bitterness growing in your tone.

"I don't really care, lady." The "landlord" doesn't even bother to look at you, but Lindsey snorts in laughter at your question.

"I just think it's funny that a junkie can't afford rent but can afford a "maid" of some kind to take care of God knows whose baby. One of her customers knocked her up? Then that's her problem." Lindsey says smugly.

"You're one to talk." Bobby narrows his eyes.

The "landlord" gives a loud, dramatic sigh as Hotch enters through the front door. "It's simple." He places his hands down firmly on the front desk. "You pay your rent, or you get kicked out."

"You charge rent in this fuckin' germ factory? Regular palace ya got here, huh?!" Bobby raises his voice again, pointing his finger at the "landlord." "You oughta pay us to stay here, ya know that?! You got junkies and hookers stayin' here, and now you're picky about whose payin' the rent?"

"What other people do in their suites is none of my concern—they pay the rent; your friend over here did not." The "landlord" scoffs.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure!" Bobby continues pointing an accusatory finger at the "landlord," momentarily glancing back to Hotch, who begins to notice all of you crowding the front desk. "You're beautiful, you know that? You're lovely." Bobby spits out sarcasm.

"Save it, Axel." Hotch raises his voice, approaching both of you. "Turn around and extend your arms, or I'll actually consider charging you with disturbing the peace."

"Go ahead." Bobby scoffs, extending out his arms before giving you a reassuring wink. "You ain't gonna find anything except that you wasted your time."

"Uh-huh." Hotch doesn't react to Bobby's sarcasm, quick to frisk and pat him down. "All clear for once."

"Funny." Bobby glares at Hotch. "Whaddaya want? A place to rent?"

"I'm doing my routine duty, Axel." Hotch redirects his attention to you. "Miss Sutcliffe."

"We didn't do anything." You tell Hotch, furrowing your brows at him.

"What you did or didn't do isn't my concern. Arms out, please. I'm doing a routine search, as I just said." Hotch sighs quietly.

"Fuck no." Bobby takes a step forward to Hotch, spitting directly in front of his shoes before pulling you back gently. "Get one of your fuckin' lady friends in 'ere if you wanna search my girl. You're not fuckin' touchin' her, man."

Your face flushes pink with blush at Bobby's protectiveness over you, refusing to let Hotch even take a step towards you.

Lindsey even raises her brows in surprise, a look of disgust growing over her face at Bobby's affection for you.

Simply too restless to even start arguing with Bobby, you see Hotch move away from you and roll his eyes—knowing it's neither worth his time or effort to do so. "This could have gone very differently, and I'll warn you about that, Bobby."

"I don't care." Bobby wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into his embrace tightly as you face away from Hotch, blushing madly. "Do whatever the fuck you want in this shit hole but don't you ever think about touching my girl."

#al pacino #al pacino x reader #alfredo james pacino #melis-writes #bobby axel x reader #bobby axel x oc #bobby axel fanfic #the panic in needle park fanfic #the panic in needle park #the panic in needle park smut #bobby axel x reader smut #bobby axel #eyes like stars fanfic #the panic in needle park x reader

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doctorstethoscope · 3 years

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Moment || Aaron Hotchner x gn Reader

A/N: hiiii besties expanding on a lil prompt from the weekend due to popular demand! Thank you to @the-modernmary for helping me with it!! If u liked this teeny bit of angst u will love her fics!!

just a little note for those of you who read The Right: I am going on vacation this coming Saturday-Wednesday. I will have the chapters queued to post for y’all, but I will not be able to respond to taglist requests or update the masterlist until I come back! Still let me know what you think about the chapters though, they’re some good ones! ok onto this fic.

contains: slight cursing, alcohol consumption

wc: 1.7k

You take a deep breath as you walk out of Strauss’s office, taking exactly one beat to regain your composure before hastily making your way over to Hotch’s office, letting yourself in without knocking.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” you said by way of greeting as you crossed his office and settled into one of the chairs across from his desk.

“Tell you what?” Hotch asks, looking up from his paperwork with confusion knit across his brow.

“That Strauss was going to harangue me the second I walked into the building this morning. I seriously didn’t even make it past security before she nabbed me.” You told him, disgruntled.

“I didn’t know. What did she want?” Aaron asks, and you look up and see that he’s telling the truth-- he really didn’t know.

“Oh… I assumed she would have cleared it with you before she asked me.” You said, your boisterous energy deflating the longer you sat in the chair.

“Is she pulling you for undercover work? She always does that, and she never asks if we have anything coming up or what your consult workload is--”

“No, Hotch. She’s, uh, she’s not pulling me for undercover work.”

“What is it?”

“She said the director tapped me to lead the field office in Vegas.” You confessed, looking up and seeing the air leave Aaron’s chest.

“Wow.” Aaron says, blinking.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“And you’re going to take it?” He asked.

“I told her that I needed some time to think about it.” You answer him.

“What’s there to think about?” He wonders.

There’s a moment where you think you might actually roll your eyes at him. There’s a moment where you consider begging him to give you a reason to stay. There’s a moment where you consider crossing the desk and depositing yourself in his lap, kissing him with the weight of all of the feelings that had you wanting to stay.

But, after a moment, you realize that none of that’s happening. He’s sitting across from you, looking at you like you’d be the biggest fool in the world not to take advantage of this opportunity, and maybe he was right. Maybe you would spend the rest of your life wanting him one-sidedly, wondering what good you could have done for the world if you had simply accepted that he’d never love you back.

“Nothing,” you answered, after a moment. “There’s absolutely nothing to think about at all.”

****************************

Aaron’s barely even distracted when you swing his door open and plop yourself into one of his chairs first thing in the morning. He’s used to it, by now. He may have been a less-than-willing participant in your friendship at the beginning of your relationship, but now he was glad to call you someone he was close to. His closest friend, really.

His ears perk up when you mention Strauss. “Is she pulling you for undercover work?’ He starts to rant, already planning the tirade he’s going to deliver to Erin when he notices your demeanor change. You’re… shy, all of a sudden. You’ve never hidden from him before. He doesn’t like it.

“She said the director tapped me for the field director position in Vegas,” You revealed. The sentence hit him like a punch in the gut.

“Wow,” is all he can manage to get out, fighting the way his throat threatens to close up. “And you’re going to take it?” He asks, although he knows the answer will break his heart.

“I told her I needed some time to think about it.”

“What’s there to think about?’ He asked, allowing himself to hope for a moment that you’ll make some grand confession, to imagine for a moment that you might possibly feel the same way he does, to believe for a moment that he’s worthy of your love. But he’s not.

“Nothing. There’s absolutely nothing to think about at all,” you tell him, standing up and leaving with a forced casualness.

Aaron had been married long enough to know that that tone and those words together mean the exact opposite of what they are supposed to mean-- but he was still confused. What could possibly make you stay? And how could he find it before you left?

*****************

The following days between you and Aaron had been chilly, to say the least. You didn’t bounce ideas off of each other on cases like you normally would. You came to the opposite conclusions at every turn. You were out of sync, and everyone felt it. So when the case wrapped up on a Friday afternoon, you were more than happy to rush home to a bottle of wine, a pint of ice cream, your moving boxes and some trashy reality television.

You’d given up on packing after about an hour. Your heart just wasn’t in it. So instead, you lounged in your pajamas, sipping at your wine in the hopes that it would guide you to your first full night of sleep since you’d spoken with Strauss. You’re just about to head to bed when there’s a knock at your door. You swing it open, revealing Aaron, holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other.

“I was an asshole.” He offers. “Am I interrupting anything, or?”

“Just packing,” you say, wanting to twist the knife a little bit even if it wasn’t truthful. Aaron is undeterred, and steps inside anyways.

“I didn’t want you to leave with us still in the middle of the fight. You can be as mad as you want in the morning, but have a glass of champagne with me?” He asks, with those big brown eyes you could never refuse.

“Fine,” you sighed, still easily won over by him, even when you were heartbroken and mad.

“Here, you open it. Congratulations,” he tells you, handing over the bottle. You start picking at the foil, and he speaks up in the silence. “Things are going to be different without you, you know. I like that our team is structured the way it is… as a team, but you know, in a lot of ways, it was nice to have a partner in you.”

“You know, come to think of it, I’m not sure if I even have cups. They might be packed away,” you say, still picking at the foil and decidedly not looking Aaron in the eye. He chuckles a little at your comment.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do when you’re gone. I mean, who else can rein in Derek, or get to see me the big picture, or talk Emily off the ledge when I’m sure she’s about to go rogue?’

“It’s going to be okay,” you tell him, setting the bottle on the counter, still unopened. Aaron heaves a sigh.

“You should stay.” He says, after a moment.

“What?” You say, blinking, because surely you must be drunk or dreaming or something else.

“You should stay here. You don’t have to take the job in Vegas.”

“Haha, very funny,” you joked, bringing your attention back to the bottle to avoid looking him in the eye.

“I’m serious. Listen, I know I said there was nothing to think about, but I changed my mind.”

“Oh, did you? And what if I haven’t changed mine?” You asked, getting angry now.

Not able to hold back for another second, he takes your face in both of his hands and kisses you. “Just, think about that before you board a plane. Okay?” He says, and before you can even speak, you hear the door swing shut behind him.

Damn you, Hotchner.

You don’t sleep a wink. When 8am finally rolls around, you pull yourself out of bed and get dressed, heading over to Aaron’s. As you buckle your seatbelt, you realize that you know you have to go over there but you have no clue what it is you even want to say to him. You hope you’ll figure it out without sounding completely insane as you knock on Aaron’s door, and he swings it open, still in his sweatpants and incredibly surprised to find you on his doorstep.

“I’m even more mad at you right now than I was last night,” you tell him by way of greeting.

“That’s understandable. I haven’t been very fair to you,” he agrees, and the fact that he’s being so reasonable only makes you angrier. You slip past him and step inside the apartment.

“I don’t get it. You couldn’t just let me move on, start a new life and forget about the torch I’ve been burning for my boss the entire time I’ve worked here? You had to have the last word, even if I was leaving forever.”

“No,” Aaron says, and you bite your tongue, trying to allow him a moment to respond even if you weren’t feeling all that gracious. “No, I couldn’t let you move on thinking the torch you were carrying ws unrequited.”

You’re struck by his words. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m sorry, it doesn’t matter. It’s a great opportunity for you in Vegas. I’m happy for you, and you shouldn’t let this--”

“Hotch, what are you trying to say?”

“Just that I’m proud of you, and I know that you’ll do excellent work, and--”

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to hide from me.” You call him out, and he looks at you for a moment. This time, you don’t break his glance.

“I’m not trying to hide. I’m just too late.” He tells you, looking down at the floor.

“Tell me, Hotchner. Tell me, please.” You beg of him, shifting to try to get him to look you in the eye.

“I love you, and I figured it out too late.”

You draw in a sharp breath, and he’s sure he’s ruined any vestiges of friendship that still existed between the two of you in this moment, and that you’ll board your plane to Las Vegas and he’ll become a creepy old boss that you never think about again. He takes a moment to look at you, a moment to mourn what might have been, a moment to remember the way your laugh made him smile while the memories were still fresh. He takes a moment, and then you speak up.

“No,” you correct him. “You figured it out just in time.”

tagging: @choppa-style @wanniiieeee @zheezs14 @torykjamie @maureen4y

@ssavanessa22 @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @ssahotchie @infinite-tides

@itsmytimetoodream @averyhotchner @msmarvelsmain @hotforhotchner11 @hotchinkevlar

hi besties I tried to tag everyone who said they wanted to be on my regular hotch list and a few of y’all who regularly interact with the right but if i made a mistake/u want to be removed u can lmk I will not be offended!!!

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x you #aaron hotchner one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

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artaefact · 3 years

Text

a letter in roses.

—wordcount: 8k+

—genre: FLUFF, romance, CEO au, valentine’s day au, husband!taehyung

—pairing: kim taehyung x f reader ft. florist!hobi, baker!jimin & ???!jk

—rating: 18+

—warnings: cheesy fluff, taehyung wants the tea, taehyung is kinda a hazard in the kitchen, yeontan being a little rascal, suggestive themes, swearings

—summary: Since it’s the first time celebrating Valentine’s Day with you as his wife, Taehyung goes the extra mile of preparing something special for you. After all, he has managed to run a billion-dollar worth company. So, preparing handmade delicacies should be simple enough, right?

author’s note: this is part of the bangtan pastries collab hosted by @suhdays !! AND ALSO ____ and [Name] are two different ocs so hopefully it’s not confusing !! happy reading everyone 💖

Valentine's Day. The day where people spend time with their loved ones, either going out to celebrate or spending quality time together at home. Just anything to bring a smile to their loved ones' faces.

Taehyung used to question this annual occasion—a lot. What is truly the purpose of this day? Don't you have to make your loved ones happy all the time? What difference does it make to celebrate it on this "special" day and on a typical day? Or, in other words, it was a complete waste of time and energy—is what he used to say.

For many years, Taehyung's only companions on this day are paperwork, meetings, and... more paperwork. So, it's not surprising how disinterested he is at the thought of celebrating Valentine's Day.

But today, he barely can stifle his smile and contain his excitement throughout the morning conference. The minute when the meeting ends, he strides out of the room and heads straight back home.

His employees had stared at him in awe after he announced that everyone can leave work early today. Everyone wonders what has gotten Kim Taehyung so excited on Valentine's Day until they remember that he is, now, officially a husband. Taehyung no longer frequently locks himself in his office until past midnight dealing with documents and phone calls. Not when you're waiting for him at home. Sometimes he'd even cut his work hours short if he deems himself deserving just to see you faster.

Everyone can see how utterly in love the boss is with his wife. Just the mention of your name is enough to grace his usual stern expression with a soft smile.

So, it's not surprising that an annoyed sigh emits from Taehyung's lips when his work phone dings just as he steps out of the elevator on his penthouse floor. Taking out his phone, he reads an urgent message that some part of the meeting's presentation details have not been mentioned to him earlier. For once, Taehyung wishes work can give him a break. Today is supposed to be a special day, after all.

Shoving his phone back into his pocket, Taehyung walks into his home. Soft jazzy music plays from the living room, along with the tinge of coffee fragrance wafting in the air, ebbing his growing annoyance away. He takes off his dress shoes before entering even further, knowing full well how his wife would make him clean up if he stains the Persian rug you received as a wedding gift. With a pair of home slippers covering his feet, he emerges from the front hallway to the living room as he shrugs off his navy pinstripe suit jacket and loosens his tie.

Taehyung hears the rapid padding of pawsteps first as a fluffy friend appears out of the kitchen, greeting Taehyung with a woof and an excited wag of his tail, scampering to his owner. Smiling, Taehyung crouches to give Yeontan a backrub as the pomeranian revels at the affection.

After a few moments, he walks to the kitchen—Yeontan still excitedly following—where the smell of coffee grows stronger. He finds you sipping on your morning coffee and scrolling through your tablet—perhaps, reading the latest news—as you sit on the bar table of the kitchen.

Sensing his presence, your head turns to the doorway. “Hey, you're back.”

“Mhmm… Finished my meetings earlier today.” He closes the distance, giving you a kiss on the cheek. “You ate breakfast already?”

You nod. “Have you?” He shakes his head. “You go change, I'll whip up something for you.” You place your tablet down on the counter. “Are toasts and eggs, okay?”

He nods in response.

Standing up from the barstool, you are about to make your way to the counter when your husband stops you. “You haven't given me a kiss ever since I've arrived back home.” He pouts, arms circling your waist to keep you still.

You chuckle at his antics. Cupping his face between your hands, you place a chaste kiss on his lips. “There.”

“More please.” And you comply, placing another, and another…

You move your hands down, placing it on his chest when he releases his hold on your waist, cupping your face, finally giving you a deep kiss. Your heart is on the verge of bursting at the touch of his lips. Granted, you both shared kisses so many times, but each and every single one never fails to spread warmth in your chest. And you love to see his dazed expression or his bright smile afterwards.

After a few moments, you pull away, grinning. “Okay, go change.” Your smile so bright Taehyung just can't get enough as he still clings to you. “I have an appointment today before our dinner date.”

Taehyung raises a brow, now realising that you're dressed up. “Where might you be going?”

You simply poke his nose with a secretive grin. He pouts at your lack of response, watching you move behind the counter. You take out two slices of bread—putting them in the toaster—and eggs from the fridge.

With a soft smile on his face, Taehyung goes to the bedroom and freshens up, quickly changing to his usual home attire. He comes back to the kitchen donning a white shirt and a pair of shorts, finding you already setting up the plate on the counter.

He stops at your side, watching you place the scrambled eggs near the toast. Then the moment you're done, he wraps his arms around your shoulders.

“What's gotten into you today?”

“Can't I shower my wife with love?” He nuzzles his nose to the crook of your neck.

You laugh softly. “Alright, alright. Now, let me just—” You place the plate on the counter, Taehyung still embracing you. “—put this. And… Do you want strawberry juice?”

He nods eagerly. You open the fridge (yes, with Taehyung is still clinging to you) and take out the cut-up frozen strawberries before placing them in the blender and pouring some water.

“Go eat, baby.” You face him after turning the blender on. “I'll be with you in a minute.”

Taehyung gives you a kiss on the cheek then moves to sit on the bar table where you have placed his breakfast. After you place a glass of strawberry juice near him, you sit next to him.

“What are your plans for today?” You ask, resting your chin on one hand.

“Hmm…” He sits straighter, swallowing the food in his mouth. With a teasing smirk, he faces you. “Well, I was planning to spend the whole day with my lovely wife. But unfortunately, I can't do that until our dinner date.”

“Should I cancel my appointments today…?” You actually look worried, and Taehyung blinks.

“No!” He says almost too quickly. “I mean— It's okay, really. We'll have our dinner date. Plus, I have another meeting to attend to soon.”

“Thought you said you were done with work today?”

“Something else came up,” Taehyung sighs in annoyance, remembering the text he received earlier from one of his employees. “I have to make a few calls. But I wouldn't miss our first Valentine dinner date after our marriage.”

You chuckle. “Alright, I should call taxi—”

Taehyung stops you. “Y/N, you know you can use my chauffeur, right?”

“The taxi's fine—” You yelp as Taehyung tugs you close to him, causing you to nearly sliding off from your seat. Placing your hands on your husband's broad shoulders, you steady yourself.

“Love, call my chauffeur, hmm?” His voice turns low, and you fight back a shiver. “I know you're still getting used to this—” He motions towards the whole penthouse. “—but at least, let me make it easier for you today, yeah?”

Inhaling a sharp breath, you nod. “O-Okay.”

A sly grin decorates his pretty lips at your agreement. “Good.” Straightening yourself, you climb down the stool. Taehyung places a chaste kiss on your lips, and you are still in a daze at the sudden change of his demeanour. You walk out of the kitchen and reach the end of the hallway. While putting on your shoes, his face peeking from the living room, and he pipes, “Don't be late for dinner!”

When the front door closes, you place a hand on your chest — on top of your still pounding heart. You let out a breath, and a smile curls up on the corner of your lips.

I swear he's going to be the death of me.

After you leave, Taehyung is left alone to his own devices. He goes to his office space with Yeontan following on his trail. Turning his laptop on, he glares at the screen. Work seems to follow him wherever and whenever despite having worked his ass off. But he’ll ensure that nothing will ruin your date night today.

Taking a deep breath, he turns on his camera, not even bothering to change out of his home attire. Taehyung’s expressions have said it all as one of his company’s branch managers who messaged him fidgets on the screen under his stare.

“What else are we missing?” His voice like the calm before the storm. “I thought the meeting earlier today has been concluded.”

“I forgot that there are some things that…” The manager rambles on, and Taehyung can sense a headache looming.

Taehyung rubs his temple as the manager finishes prattling. Sitting up straighter, he advises, “I’m going to say this only once, you work in this position to oversee the marketing branch of my company. It is your job to ensure that all the little details for today’s meeting have been presented. So, this type of incident will not happen again. Do I make myself clear?”

The manager nods rapidly.

“Good,” Taehyung leans back on his leather chair. “Now, is that all?”

Again, the manager nods.

Finally.

After ending the call and answering a few more emails, Taehyung emerges out of the office room and plops down the couch with Yeontan in his arms. He stretches his neck to the right and left, ear to his shoulder. The pomeranian rests comfortably against his chest until the doorbell rings, surprising the poor dog.

Ah, Taehyung almost forgot. He coos at the stunned dog, a light giggle escaping his lips before putting Yeontan on the dog bed, right beside the living room’s couch. “Stay, I’ll be back.” Then he walks to the door, peeking through the peephole as a grin appears on his face. Opening the door, Jimin and Jungkook pop in with smiles on their faces.

“Hey man, long time no see.” Jimin wraps his arms around Taehyung, patting his back. “How’s it going?”

“It’s rare for you to call us nowadays,” Jungkook comments after giving Tae a hug as well.

“Yeah, I’ve been working my ass off.” Taehyung sighs and locks the door.

“Where’s Y/N?” Jimin emerges out of the hallway, and he crouches as Yeontan approaches him in the living room. “Hey, buddy. Long time no see.”

“What the hell? He’s grown so much, hyung.” Jungkook follows suit, petting the pomeranian and letting out the giggle when Yeontan playfully licks him.

Taehyung clears his throat. “Y/N is out for an appointment, and you guys need to help me.”

“Right,” Jimin stands up, recalling the text Taehyung sent him a few days ago. “So, I think we can finish in around three hours? It’s only six pastries—”

“One hundred forty three,” Taehyung corrects.

Silence.

Jimin blinks rapidly, processing his friend’s words. “Are you insane? We’ll need so much ingredients for that, and I’m guessing not even your gigantic kitchen can store—”

As if on cue, the doorbell rings again.

“Ah, it has arrived,” Taehyung muses, opening the door once more to reveal a delivery man with a cart full of packed grocery ingredients.

“Delivery for Mr Kim.”

“That would be me.” Taehyung signs the tablet before letting the delivery man unload the boxes. After a few minutes, the boxes are stacked near the hallway. Taehyung turns to his friends, “So, should we start?”

“Wait, are you seriously planning on baking a hundred forty three pastries?” Jimin’s expression still shows none other than horror. “That’s impossible.”

“But…”

“Nope,” Jimin shakes his head. “That won’t work. Not even if we have more people to help.” Taehyung’s shoulders noticeably droop. Jimin puts a comforting hand on Taehyung’s shoulder and adds, “Look, we can opt for a lesser number of pastries and arrange them. It’ll look great! Plus, knowing your extra ass, I bet you still have something else planned.”

Pursing his lips, Taehyung mumbles, “Well, you’re not wrong.”

“So, we’re settled,” Jimin lets out a relieved sigh.

There’s a funny look on Jungkook’s face as he watches the whole scene unfold. Taehyung raises a brow at the younger one, who responds with a shake of his head. “I thought you lost your mind, hyung. As someone who runs a billionaire company, I thought the stress is finally getting to you.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes before he realises, “Wait, aren’t you working somewhere else now?”

“Today’s an off day for me,” Jungkook shrugs, walking alongside Taehyung to the kitchen. “So, I figured after knowing Jimin hyung is coming here, I’d tag along.”

“I see.” Taehyung sets the sack of apples on the floor beside the main kitchen counter. Jimin is already rummaging through the kitchen for empty bowls to place the necessary ingredients for the pastries. Meanwhile, Yeontan sniffs the sack of apples curiously, nudging it when the apples tumble down, scattering on the floor.

Putting the bags of cinnamon and sugar on the marble counter, Jungkook mutters, “...And now, I’m already regretting.”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

You watch the snow-covered trees and sidewalks in a passing blur as Taehyung’s chauffeur drives you to the town’s famous flower shop. After turning to the familiar corner of the street, a few minutes later, you arrive.

Tightening your coat tighter to yourself, you climb out of the car, taking your handbag along with you. As soon as you go through the glass door, the owner greets you. “Y/N! You’re finally here!”

“Hobi!” You greet him in a friendly hug. “How have you been? You look great!”

“I’ve been good!” He motions for you to sit on the chair at the front counter. “Just finished arranging all the bouquets for today, and finally have some peace and quiet until the truck returns, then I have to load the second batch of bouquets.”

“You sure having a busy day.” You sit on the wooden chair. “Is ____ here already?”

He shakes his head, but his eyes are filled with mirth. “She’ll come visit later, she has something to do now. So, let’s start on your thing first.”

“Oh! Did you get it?”

Hoseok nods at your question, moving back behind the cashier counter, and crouches down as he rummages through his things. “Here,” he hands you a miniature of a cherry blossom tree inside a small sealed plastic.

Your eyes light up. “Hobi, it’s perfect!”

He smiles at your reaction. “What are you going to use it for?”

“For this.” You take out an empty snow globe from your bag. “It fits perfectly.”

“Well, you did insist for me to get the right measurements.” He chuckles, watching curiously as you unseal the plastic to take out the cherry blossom tree. “If it wasn’t for my fiancé, I would’ve gotten it wrong. She literally measured it down to precision.”

You laugh, placing the tree on the uncapped snow globe. “That’s what I love about her.”

“Me too,” he giggles before clearing his throat, still smiling. “And what bouquet would you like?”

“It’s for Tae. So...”

“Hmm…” Hoseok purses his lips. “Usually, people would go for roses, tulips, and carnations for Valentine’s Day.”

You ponder for a moment, weighing your options for the perfect bouquet for your husband. “I’ll go with carnations, roses, and baby’s breath.” Hoseok nods, eyes calculating as if picturing the bouquet you’d like.

“Is it okay if I use your counter for a while to assemble this?” You point at the snow globe and miniature on the counter.

“Sure~” Hoseok chirps, striding to the buckets of flowers a few steps away.

Then as if on cue, the front door opens. “I hope I’m not late…” ____ smiles at the sight of you, then her gaze shifts to her fiancé briefly, whose eyes are already on her. “I bring the supplies,” she places a bag of arts and craft supplies you requested in front of you.

“Thank you!” You beam, excitedly giving her a hug before rummaging through the bag. “You really brought everything.”

“No problem.” She ruffles your hair affectionately. “I understand that you had to keep this a secret from Tae for the time being.” Then she turns to Hoseok.

“Hey, baby,” Hoseok grins, opening his arms, his glove-covered hands full of picked flowers. She responds with a smile of her own, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Missed you,” Hoseok mumbles into her hair.

She rolls her eyes, “We just saw each other this morning.”

“Missed you every moment,” Hoseok replies cheekily.

You smile to yourself, hearing their exchange as you work on the snow globe. Taking the glue from the bag, you gingerly apply it to the bottom of the miniature cherry blossom and then stick it to the flat surface of the snow globe. You hold it in that position for a few moments before letting it go to dry.

____ once again stands beside you as Hoseok continues to work on the bouquet. She curiously observes what you’re doing and comments, “Did you come up with this idea?”

You nod. “Yeah, I thought of creating something special for him. After all, it’s our first Valentine’s together as newlyweds.”

Not a minute later, Hoseok already calls for his fiancé from the wrapping table on the other side of the room. “Babe, can you please help me with these?”

____ gives him a glance. “You’re just making excuses to be near me. You usually have everything under control.”

Hoseok wails in vain. “Pleaseee. Usually, I’d have Jungkook helping me. But ever since he’s gotten so busy with his new job, I haven’t been able to find another part-timer. So, I thought you’re helping me today.”

Failing to stifle a smile, ____ mutters a quiet ‘he’s so needy’ and then moves to help whatever Hoseok requires.

You chuckle hearing their banter. Just listening or watching them has always strangely brought warmth inside you. They treat you as their younger sibling, or even their child at times, but you can’t bring yourself to be annoyed at the treatment. Not when you know how they genuinely care about you.

Despite not tying the knot yet, they are the ones who made you believe that soulmates (or at least something really close to it) exist. And you hoped it’ll be the same for you and Taehyung.

Taehyung prides himself in many things—running his billion-dollar worth corporation, doing art, and gaming. He’d like to say that there are still many hidden capabilities that he has yet to discover. However, in the recent light of events, he is close to admitting that talent in the kitchen is a definite no.

“No! What are you doing?!” Jungkook gapes at the smashed apple in Taehyung’s hold, its juices dripping down onto the counter. “You’re making a mess, hyung! And you aren’t supposed to cut like that! Are you trying to commit a murder?”

“I thought this is how you cut it open...” The man in question mumbles, staring glumly at his work.

“No,” Jungkook groans. “You do it like this.” He slices the apple in half easily.

Right. Another aspect that Taehyung seems to lack is the ability to follow or listen to instructions. His primary instinct is either to go with the flow or dive right into whatever he’s facing. Hence, it’s still a work-in-progress since following others is just not his forte—

—except you. Your lilting accent whenever you speak, or even subtle actions, Taehyung follows you easily. One of your little habits—taking deep breaths whenever your emotions are getting the best of you—Taehyung has picked up that so effortlessly.

Like how currently, he’s taking a deep breath to not let his rising frustration get the best of him.

“Like this?” Taehyung attempts the way Jungkook cuts the apple—cutting it in half, aligning with the stem and core, then trying to slice it thinly.

Jungkook nods, observing Taehyung. Jimin, on the other hand, stifles his laughter as he assembles the apple slices on the pastry sheets. The blatant impatience in Jungkook’s face grows more and more apparent at Taehyung’s skill—or, rather lack thereof—in dealing with a knife. “Okay, I think it’s better if I do the rest of it,” Jungkook takes the cutting board, and the apples left. “You can help Jimin hyung do the pastries—shit!”

One of the apple pieces—a chunk, to be precise—rolls off the plate and falls onto the ground. Jungkook’s eyes widen in horror as a fluff of black and brown fur zooms past his legs and picks up the fallen apple as quick as lightning.

“Yeontan, no!”

So, while Yeontan munches happily on his newly-attained snack and a string of curses escapes Jungkook’s lips, Taehyung snatches the cutting board back. He resumes slicing the apples slowly. He’s a man with determination, after all. He’d like to be the reason his wife’s eyes light up with glee as she tastes the apple roses pastries he put his heart into.

Jungkook fusses in the background, “Can dogs eat apples?”

Jimin, now, can barely contain his laughter at the unfurling of the whole scene. “Well… I think so.”

“You think so?” Jungkook groans, quickly fetching his phone from the living room. He furiously types on his phone and googles: can dogs eat apples. “I will not be responsible if Yeontan falls ill and— Oh, thank goodness.” He lets out a relieved sigh. “It makes healthy snacks for them instead.”

“Yeah, it does,” Taehyung replies nonchalantly. “I usually let him have a piece or two without the seeds.”

Jungkook grumbles. “Why didn’t you answer me in the first place then? I panicked—”

“Cuz it’s fun to watch your reaction,” Taehyung and Jimin said in unison.

“And it serves you right...” Taehyung adds, mumbling.

“Screw you guys. I’m not helping with this anymore.” Jungkook crosses his arms, pouting.

“This is for my wife, you know,” Taehyung reminds him, “And remember how my wife is close to Hoseok’s fiance—”

Jungkook picks up the knife in record time.

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

You stare at the finished snow globe in satisfaction, capping back the glycerin and distilled water bottle tightly. Then after you’re confident that everything’s all settled and cleaned up, you tilt the globe a few times to make sure the content is all set and doesn’t spill.

The cherry blossom tree stands tall as tiny leaf-like cutouts of pastel pink cascade through the liquid in slow motion, like real falling cherry blossoms.

“Wow, it’s so pretty,” ____ comments after she helped Hoseok with the bouquet.

You grin at her compliment before placing the snow globe in an empty black gift box. “I hope Tae will love this.”

“He sure will,” ____ muses, watching you tie the gift box. “You know he’ll love anything you give him. And—”

“Babe, can you help me get some ribbons?” Hoseok asks from the wrapping table across the room.

“Sure,” ____ chuckles, grabbing a basket of colourful ribbons under the counter and handing it to Hoseok.

“Can you help me tape around the edges?” Hoseok lifts the bouquet of flowers, gaze pointing at the bulk of stems. ____ complies, following his instructions before wrapping it with cotton paper.

You stand up from your seat and move closer to the couple. At the sight of the assembled flowers, you gape, “Now, that’s pretty.”

“I’m glad you like it,” He chuckles, tying the wrapped bouquet with a ribbon. “And we’re done!” He hands you the bouquet.

Taking a closer look at the vibrant hues of red, pink, and white, you stare in awe. “I love it!”

After bidding Hoseok and ____ goodbye, you step out of the shop with the bouquet and gift box in hand. Taehyung’s chauffeur opens the door to the car, and you climb in quickly to avoid the cold weather.

“Where would you like to go, Mrs. Kim?” The chauffeur asks as he drives.

“The bakery please. It’s a few blocks away from here.”

You hum to yourself a soft, happy tune. Just imagining how your husband would react has your heart fluttering and giddy. Wondering what he’s up to, you take out your phone from your coat and press on his number.

The familiar ring buzzes a few times until he answers. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey,” you smile. “What are you up to?”

“Hmm? Uh, nothing?” He answers, then you hear the sound of clanking and familiar whispers in the background.

“Tae… What are you doing?”

He hums. “Well, I thought I should clean up the penthouse before our dinner tonight.”

“Oh,” you giggle. “Did you really call Jimin and Jungkook to help clean up our place?”

Taehyung mutters a curse under his breath. “W-Well, they are willing to help. So, why not?”

“Usually, you’d call the usual cleaning services. Plus, isn’t Jimin’s bakery busy today?”

“Unfortunately, not this time, sweetheart. I’ve prepared some things tonight and I don’t want people nosing around.” Taehyung explains. “And Jimin says his girlfriend got it under control.”

You let out an amused chuckle. “Alright then.” Glancing out the car window, the pastel pink store is nearing. “I need to go now. See you tonight, baby.”

“See you soon, my love.”

The smile never leaves Taehyung’s face as he puts his phone back into his pocket and walks back to the kitchen. Jungkook is still cutting apples while Jimin cracks some eggs into a bowl.

“Was that Y/N?” Jimin spares a brief glance as he whisks the eggs.

Taehyung nods. “She asked what I was doing.”

“Nothing at all…” Jungkook mutters under his breath, arranging the sliced apples on a plate and putting them in the microwave.

“I heard that,” Taehyung narrows his stare at the younger one. “So… How are things between you and her, Kookie?”

Jungkook falters. “Uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ah, yes, do you know I just met her in my meeting a few days ago?” A teasing smirk curls up on Taehyung’s lips as Jungkook pouts, still arranging the second batch of apples.

“Don’t fight you guys.” Jimin groans. “We’re not even halfway done with this!”

Taehyung opens his mouth to complain, and Jimin cuts him off. “So, you’re going to prepare the muffin tray—” Jimin instructs Taehyung. “Then Jungkook is going to help me with the pastries.”

“Can I help with the pastries instead?” Taehyung watches Jimin pouring cinnamon and sugar into another bowl. “Jungkook can prep the muffin trays.”

“Are you up for it?” Jimin raises a brow. Taehyung nods enthusiastically.

“Alright. But make sure to follow how I do it.”

Taehyung smiles giddily and stands beside his friend. He follows every action Jimin does: brushing egg wash on the pastry, sprinkling cinnamon and sugar on the dough, arranging the apples, and rolling it into a tart.

“So, how’s things so far with Goldilocks?” Taehyung questions once he gets the hang of arranging the pastries.

Jimin lets out a sheepish chuckle. “That’s her pet goldfish’s name, you know.”

Jungkook places the muffin tray after he preps it. “And she made me carry the whole tank back home…” Jungkook grumbles, recalling the past event.

Taehyung shrugs. “Then Ms. Shooting Star.”

Jimin fights back a blush on his cheeks at the mention of that. “I’m beginning to regret telling you all that.”

Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows with a teasing smirk.

“We’re both really busy these days, and we said to take things slow since her parents are a bit complicated, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Jungkook chuckles, “Says the one who had a mental breakdown right before Christmas dinner.

Jimin glares at the younger one. “Look who’s talking. I wonder if you’d ever grow the balls to admit your feelings for She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.”

“I don’t have feelings for her.” Jungkook mutters, looking away.

Taehyung nods. “Well, then. That’s good to know. One of my business partners was asking about her the other day. I thought I’d introduce them. “

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Great, now you’re playing cupid?”

“Not yet. But I got one in mind who’s very interested in her…”

“Please, don’t.” Jungkook whispers, gritting his teeth.

“What was that?” Taehyung asks with an open hand behind his ear.

“Don’t…”

“What?”

“Please, for fuck’s sake. Don’t introduce any of your friends to her beyond business interest.”

Silence.

Jungkook blinks before he rambles, “I mean it’s going to be creepy if someone that’s fifty years older hits on her—”

“Oh, no. I can guarantee he’s not that old. In fact, he’s still a bachelor. Maybe a few years older than us. And—” Taehyung recalls, rolling the last apple rose pastry and placing it on the muffin tray. “—come to think of it, she did ask me about him once...” Taehyung trails, noticing Jungkook’s blank expression at the information. “Oops, I think I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

“They all look so good,” you mutter, scouring through the vast chocolate choices under the display glass.

[Name] shoots you a smile. “Take all the time you need. The cafe isn’t open today, so it’s not that busy here.”

You glance around the bakery briefly. “I can tell… No wonder Jimin is with Taehyung right now.”

“Mhmm…” [Name] nods; she leans forward on the glass display, chin resting against one palm.

“Are you okay spending time here alone…?”

She shrugs. “I was promised a date in the winter market tonight. So, I don’t mind—” The sudden ringtone of her phone cuts her off. “Wait, gimme a sec—” You nod as she picks up her phone. “Mochi?”

A chuckle escapes your lips at the cute nickname.

“No, I can’t go there right now. It’s still too early to close up.” She glances at the wall clock. “Huh? What do you mean Jungkook left?” Your gaze shifts up from the sweet displays to her worried expression. “Oh, okay.” She drums her fingers on the counter. “I’ll talk to him if he goes here. Bye— yes, love you too.” She presses the disconnect button.

“Is everything okay?” You ask curiously.

She responds with a nod. “You know the usual, Taehyung and Jimin teases Jungkook too much and now, he’s gone off to blow some steam.”

“To where—” The door to the bakery slams open, and there a huffy Jungkook appears.

“That was fast,” [Name] sniggers at her best friend.

“Not in the mood,” Jungkook pouts, sitting on the closest table to the cashier counter.

“They giving you a hard time?” [Name] places a steaming mug of hot chocolate on his table and tilts her head slightly.

Jungkook huffs once more, sipping the drink carefully. Honestly, he doesn’t even know what got him so worked up. He’s used to all his hyungs’ teasing, but...

“Tell me about it,” [Name] places a steaming mug of hot chocolate on his table. “After I helped Y/N with her chocolate.”

Jungkook blinks, now realising that you’re standing awkwardly in front of the glass displays. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi, Jungkook,” you greet him back and turn to look at the desserts again. “And uh, I’ll take this and this…” You point out all the chocolate you’d like, earning a nod from [Name].

As soon as she’s done packing the chocolate box, you bid them farewell and exit the bakery with your heart fluttering in anticipation and excitement.

The peaceful atmosphere in the kitchen ceases the moment Taehyung’s phone dings when a text notification appears. Taehyung—who was busy admiring his final work on the muffin tray—takes a glimpse of his phone’s screen on the counter. “Oh no.”

Jimin takes the muffin tray off the counter and sets it in the oven. “What?”

“Jungkook just texted me that Y/N is coming back now.”

“Huh?” Jimin’s eyes widen. “But the pastries aren’t done yet!”

Another ding resounds through Taehyung’s phone.

Jungkook: Good luck tryna hide the pastries :P

“He can be annoying if he wants to...” Taehyung mutters under this breath at Jungkook’s retaliation.

“Well, we did hit a nerve by talking about her...” Jimin sighs, crossing his arms.

Taehyung snorts. “The kid needs to get it sorted out as quickly as possible. He sometimes just needs a push.”

“He still needs time,” Jimin counters, shaking his head. “Not all people have it easy in admitting their feelings.”

Taehyung mulls for a minute and nods in understanding. “I guess I shouldn’t push him too hard. But for now, I should find a way to distract Y/N,” Taehyung searches for your contact. “How long do you think we need?”

Jimin mentally calculates the time. “Like forty minutes to an hour?”

“Okay,” Taehyung clicks on your number. He clears his throat once you pick up the phone, “Y/N? Hey, baby, I might need help picking up something...”

“Oh, sure. What is it?”

“I need your help to pick up a cooking book I’ve been searching for…”

“...Cooking? Since when you’re interested in—”

“Look, I’ve been trying to find a new hobby and I thought why not cooking? Jimin recommended me to try it.” Taehyung blabbers, his heart beating fast. “And it’ll be fun if we do it together, right?”

“Okay.” The amusement in your tone lights up his face into a shy smile. “Send me which book you’re looking for and I’ll check with ____ if she has it. Just hope she and Hobi haven’t gone out for their date yet.”

“Thanks, love. I owe you one.”

He can hear the smile on your voice as you respond, “I only accept payment in kisses and cuddles.”

Taehyung chuckles fondly. “Consider it done.” Once you end the call, Taehyung checks the pastries in the oven, mumbling, “I hope that would keep her busy for a while.”

Jimin nods. “The first batch is almost done. But the second one—an hour should be enough...” He trails, voice filled with uncertainty.

“It has to be enough.” Taehyung picks up the dirty bowls and dumps it in the kitchen sink. “It should be...”

Jimin helps clean up the counter, even ensuring that there isn’t a trace of flour on the floor before he checks his phone briefly and pockets it back in his jeans. He moves near the oven—hands covered by the oven mitts—and tentatively takes out the first batch of apple roses pastries from the top rack and puts it on the counter.

“Let it cool off for a while and then you can hide it in the fridge or a container. Oh, and how will you plan to arrange the—”

Taehyung rinses off the remaining utensils—taking his washing gloves off—and rummages through the cabinets, taking out a heart-shaped platter.

With an unamused expression, Jimin blinks a few times. “You just have all kinds of things in your kitchen, do you?”

Taehyung shrugs. “Y/N came across it the other day and thought it was pretty. She didn’t buy it, so I bought it instead.”

A flabbergasted laugh escapes Jimin’s lips as he shakes his head. “Well, I better get going now. I don’t want to be late for my date tonight.”

“Thanks for your help, man. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“That’s what friends are for, yeah?” Jimin walks out to the front door and wears his coat before giving Taehyung a farewell hug. “And you should apologise to Jungkook too. He’s probably still having his pity-party in my bakery.”

Taehyung nods, opening the door. “I will.”

After Jimin left, Taehyung goes back to the kitchen. He puts one leg and the other over the pet barrier he set to prevent Yeontan from stealing any more fallen ingredients. Said dog is whimpering in front of the kitchen doorway until the front door clicks. Then he hears the familiar footsteps of his wife.

So, of course, things aren’t going according to Taehyung’s plan today.

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

After retrieving Taehyung’s desired cookbook, you arrive in the lobby. You stop by the receptionist desk to hide the gifts and tell them to bring it up to the penthouse at your call around seven in the evening.

The moment you step through the door, the sweet smell of cinnamon fills the air. Taking off your boots and coat, you call out for your husband. “Tae? You in here?” You head towards the kitchen to find it barricaded by Yeontan’s fence barrier. “What the—” You lift one leg over the barricade, and your other leg follows. You stride to the refrigerator to get a drink, only to find it blocked.

When you glance down, there your husband lays—his long legs blocking the fridge—with a strained smile on his face, looking absolutely winded. “You’re back.”

“My goodness, what happened here?” You crouch, helping him sit up. “Did the cleaning go wrong?”

Taehyung shakes his head, leaning against the refrigerator. “Everything’s well. Just… Resting… For a while.”

“Are you okay?” You tilt your head. “I’m gonna get you some water—”

Your husband stops you, leaning in to give you a peck on the lips. “Hi.”

An involuntary shy smile appears on your face. “Hi there, do you mind scooting? I want to get a drink.”

He shakes his head again, winding his arms around you. “It’s okay... I’m— I’ll take it for you.”

“Hmm? But you can barely even move, Tae…” You reach out, moving a stray hair from his handsome face.

“I can…” he pouts, grasping your hand on his hair to kiss your palm. “Just give me a minute.”

With a teasing smile on your face, you reach for the refrigerator handle again and attempt to open it when your husband stands up.

He’s definitely hiding something, but luckily he’s cute. “Alright…” You muse, watching his attempt to keep you from opening the fridge. But you suppose you’ll comply with his conspicuous actions. “I’ll wait in the living room.”

After you head out of the kitchen, Taehyung opens the fridge—releases a breath as he takes out a water bottle—and closes it again. He goes out to the living room, finding you giggling as Yeontan playfully licks your face on the couch. The sight brings warmth inside Taehyung’s heart as he strides closer and sits beside you, handing you your water.

“Thanks.” You let Yeontan down from the couch before taking the water bottle. While you drink your fill, Taehyung lays his head on your lap, letting out a contented sigh as you weave your fingers through his dark locks. “What time is dinner again?”

“Seven.”

Capping the water bottle, you glance at the wall clock in front of you. “So… Two more hours. I gotta get ready.”

“Hmm…?” Taehyung opens his eyes. “But we’re celebrating here...”

You let out a quiet laugh. “You said you want to reenact our first date.”

Your husband blinks once, then realisation falls upon him as he groans in embarrassment, sitting up. “You’re actually considering it?”

“Why not? It’s a cute idea,” you giggle. “It’s only between us both.”

Facing you, he questions, “It’s not too cheesy or anything?” Uncertainty is evident in his gaze.

“Of course not.” You grin, encircling your arms around him. “I love that idea actually.”

He lets out a sheepish chuckle. “Then I’ll see you in two hours?” Taehyung bites his bottom lip—a habit when he’s nervous—but he still holds your stare. “I’ll use the guest bathroom to freshen up. So, you get the bathroom all to yourself.”

“Oh? We can share as usual—”

“But that won’t fully reenact our first date, you know, before we’re living together—” He rambles, eyes darting everywhere, but you. You, on the other hand, fail to stifle a smile at his flustered state. Nodding in understanding, you stand up. Taehyung grasps your wrist, causing you to turn to him. “No kisses for me?”

You lean down, levelling your face with his, with a teasing smirk. “I don’t kiss on the first date, handsome.”

“You know what, on second thought—”

“See you later, baby.” Escaping his clutches, you go straight to your bedroom for your “first” date with your husband.

Taehyung has never been this nervous before, well, ever since your wedding day—the moment you walked down the aisle with a beautiful smile on your face that he needed to pull himself together before he turns into a sobbing mess and—

Okay, the point is, Taehyung has presented business plans, his company’s valuation, and other significant matters in front of hundreds or even thousands of people. He managed to stay calm and collected in every presentation—full of confidence as he moved across the stage with ease.

But when it comes to you? He wonders where did all that confidence go. And you’re just one person. The one person who he had promised to cherish and love, and—

He lets out a deep breath, staring at himself in the guest bathroom mirror. In a deep burgundy suit, he does a once-over at his appearance before the sound of the doorbell rings. He rushes out and ushers the staff, who brings a decorated table in along with the surprises he prepared.

A few minutes later, when all is set, he knocks on your bedroom door, straightening his suit jacket in nervousness.

The moment the door swings open, Taehyung’s throat goes dry as he gapes at you, adorning the same black dress you wore on your first date. Your eyes momentarily grow wide as well at his choice of outfit—the same one he used on the first date—before bursting into a giggle. “Wow, we do think alike…”

Snapping out of his trance, he nods. “And you still look breathtaking as ever.”

“Stop stroking my ego.” You move closer to him, looping your arm through his as he leads you to the living room.

“You know I can’t help myself,” Taehyung chuckles.

A gasp escapes your lips as soon as you see what has been prepared. The whole room is lit up by candles—some real, some fake—yet, there are no other words than to describe it as beautiful. The couch and coffee table has been set aside, and in the middle of the living room, a candlelit table stands with meals for two prepared on it. Your gaze falls on the bouquet of roses Taehyung has in hand.

“It’s beautiful,” you mutter in awe.

Taehyung grins. “A hundred and forty-three roses for the love of my life.”

You gape, taking the bouquet into your arms. “A hundred forty-three?”

“It means ‘I love you’.” His gaze is full of emotions. “I don’t know if I’ll ever live up to be the man of your dreams. But I can continue—” He takes your hand in his. “—to love you even more as we spend our lives together.”

Silence.

Your gaze is glassy and unreadable. Then you blink your eyes rapidly, looking up at the ceiling. “Damn it, Tae. I’m using makeup.”

“Huh?”

Placing down the bouquet on the coffee table, you reach out for the tissue, dabbing your eyes carefully before fanning your hands.

“Oh no, don’t cry—”

“It’s your fault for making such a speech. You know how emotional I get when you do that.” You dab your eyes more as Taehyung wraps his arms around your waist from behind.

“Oh sweetheart,” Taehyung coos as you face him. You stare into his loving gaze for a few moments before you clear your throat. However, as if on cue, the doorbell rings. Taehyung furrowed his brows. “Expecting someone?”

“Wait here.” Pulling away from his hold, you rush to the door. The moment you return to the living room with presents in hand, Taehyung gapes as you hand him the bouquet and gift box.

“What is this?” He observes the gift box curiously, then admires the flowers. “It’s beautiful.”

You sit on the couch, patting the space beside you. Taehyung follows suit, placing the bouquet on the coffee table before untying the gift box’s black ribbon before his breath hitches in his throat.

With trembling hands, he lifts up the snow globe carefully. “It’s… Isn’t this where we met?”

You nod. “Just so you know, I couldn’t wish for a better person to be with,” you start. “I think some part of me has always known that you’d be the man of my dreams. Ever since you spilled strawberry juice on my shirt.”

It takes him a few moments to process your words as his eyes shift from the snow globe to you; a chuckle passes his lips. “First, that was an accident. And do you… really mean that?”

Taking his free hand on yours, you lace your fingers together. “I married you, didn’t I?” Your wedding rings gleam softly, reflecting the light of the burning candles in the room.

“Made me the happiest man alive.” He recalls the memories of falling cherry blossoms, spilled strawberry juice and frantic apologies-turned-laughter. A soft smile appears on your face after putting the snow globe back on its box. He turns to you. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

You raise a brow at him. “What’s stopping you?”

“You don’t kiss on first dates.”

“Well…” You lean closer to him. “I think I can make an exception for the man of my dreams.”

Taehyung exhales, “Thank heavens.” He cups your face gently, clearing the remaining distance between the both of you. No matter how many times you kiss, it never fails to send his heart beating a tad faster or put a smile on his face. In other words, Taehyung is head over heels in love with you.

After a few moments, you pull away, and he chases after you, but you place a pointer finger on his lips. “Dinner first,” you remind him.

He sighs in defeat, lips turning into a pout and nodded. Once you both finish dinner, you lean back on your chair, patting your stomach. “That was a nice meal.”

“I have one more surprise for you.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, “What is it?” With a secretive grin, Taehyung stands from his seat and makes a beeline to the kitchen. You can hear the fridge opening and closing before your husband walks out of the kitchen with a—

“Isn’t that the platter I saw a few days ago?”

Excitement is written on his face at your realisation, placing the platter in front of you. You let out a gasp at the sight of the neatly-arranged apple rose pastries.

“I made it myself,” Taehyung beams. “Jimin and Jungkook came to help a bit.”

“A bit?” You tease, shooting him a glance before setting your gaze back on the pastries. “These look almost too pretty to eat.”

Taehyung drags his seat to your side and plops down. Anticipation is apparent in his eyes as he watches you pick up a pastry and bites into it. Another gasp escapes your throat at the burst of sweetness spreading across your tastebuds. You stare at him in shock as you chew.

“So?” He waits for your response. “How does it taste?”

“It’s...” You swallow the remaining pastry in your mouth down. “Really good.” Taehyung’s eyes twinkle at your compliment. “I’m… Wow,” you breathe out, utterly speechless. “So, this is why you wanted to start cooking?”

He blinks, with realisation dawning upon him, then he scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Actually… That was to keep you distracted for a while. I wasn’t done baking the pastries yet.”

Snorting, you lift another pastry in front of your husband’s mouth; he bites and chews for a few seconds. And stops.

You furrow your brows at his odd reaction. “What’s wrong?”

“Shit—” Taehyung rushes to the guest bathroom without another word. Placing the half-bitten pastry on the empty plate, you follow suit and find your husband retching on the toilet bowl. Once he’s done, he reaches for a mouthwash. “I think—” He gargles the mouthwash then spit into the sink. “—that one is still undercooked.”

“Oh, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t know—” you ramble, watching Taehyung wipe his mouth with a paper towel, then washes his hands.

He cradles your face with his dried hands. “It’s my fault. I didn’t check if all the pastries are fully baked. I’m sorry.”

“You okay, now?” Your voice sounds uncertain, hands covering his bigger ones.

He nods reassuringly. “It’s not that bad. Maybe I was over-exaggerating— oof.” You poke his stomach in retaliation as he giggles.

“You had me worried.”

“And you’re still a worrywart.” He rubs his nose on yours affectionately. “My adorable worrywart.”

Your gaze falls on his drenched shirt (and luckily, he already discarded his burgundy suit). “Your shirt is ruined now.”

“Hmm...? Oh, dear,” he feigns worry, leaning on the marble sink—his palms on your hips. “Now, what do we do? Do you wanna—” You roll your eyes at the teasing glint in his eyes. Knowing what he’s up to, your fingers unbutton his shirt, leaving him flustered at your sudden movement. “W-Wait—!”

You pull the collar of his half-unbuttoned shirt, leaning forward to have his face so close to yours. Both your lips just millimetres away from each other. Voice dropping into a lilting whisper, you purr, “Let me make it easier for you today, yeah?”

Shivers run down Taehyung’s spine at your familiar words. “Is this payback because of this morning?” You shrug and finish unbuttoning his shirt. His lean chest on display to your eyes now. “Or is this just an excuse to get me naked?”

A teasing smirk curls up on your lips. “A bit of both.” Then you wrap your arms around his neck, closing the distance between you—lips claiming his own.

Humming in approval, Taehyung winds his arms around your waist. Fire ignites inside you as you pull away briefly. Your husband turns you around, settling you on the marble counter of the sink while he stands between your legs.

Your dress hikes up to your thighs, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when the man of your dreams drags his luscious lips across your jaw and trails down your neck. Your breath hitches when he kisses your sweet spot; fisting his opened shirt by the shoulder as he rains kisses on your collar bones, nipping on it.

“Tae—” You breathe out as he hums in response, tugging the zipper on the back of your dress down. “—kiss me, please.”

And he complies, claiming your lips.

Tangling your fingers through his hair, you let out a sigh as he trails downward once more, scraping the skin of your throat with his teeth. Tugging the straps of your dress off your shoulders and letting them pool on your waist, he lets out, “You’re gorgeous.” He places a kiss on the juncture between your neck and shoulder. A soft whimper emits from your throat. “So damn gorgeous. And all mine.”

Tracing his jaw—half-lidded gaze staring at him—you whisper, “Why don’t we take this somewhere else more comfortable?”

Almost instantly, he lifts you up in his arms—your legs winding around his waist, arms around his neck—heads out of the bathroom and lays you gently on the bed. You discard your dress as it falls in a heap of silk on the rug. Then you tug off Taehyung’s shirt as he climbs on top of you.

“You’re spoiling me so much today. Thank you,” You mutter, holding your husband’s face in your hands.

“Thank you, my love. What I did today, it’s the least I can do,” He stares back at you with so much love, leaning down to kiss you softly. “After all, I’d do anything to make you smile.”

You chuckle at that, poking his nose. “I love you.”

He holds one hand of yours and kisses your palm. “And I love you.”

The remaining articles of clothing find themselves in a heap on the floor as your husband reminds you of your wedding night—making love to you into the late hours of the night.

EPILOGUE

“Don’t go…” he mumbles sleepily, keeping his arms around your naked waist.

“Tae, let me go, I just need a drink—” you wriggle in his hold to break free. “—my throat is really dry—” And your husband has the nerve to chuckle at your words. He lets out a pained groan as you poke his stomach (maybe a bit too hard), and finally, he lets you loose.

Climbing off the bed, you pick up his shirt and don it quickly. However, the moment you step out of the bedroom, an unpleasant smell wafts through your nostrils, and when you reach the living room, you gape in horror.

“Yeontan!” You shriek at the sight as the said perpetrator waddles towards you with his round innocent eyes.

Your husband emerges—bare-chested and in his boxers—out of the bedroom at your alarming shriek. Once he sees the scattered dog waste across the marble floor, he mutters, “I think we ignored him for too long.”

author’s note: i’ve decided to add another character (YAYYY CEO!taehyung) in the same universe as baker!jimin, florist!hobi and ???!jungkook (feel free to guess what he’d be 😙)!! thank you for reading and as always feedbacks are appreciated !!

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cheelduh · 3 years

Text

How to get your crush to walk you to the nurse’s office (Highschool AU)

This is part 3, but it can be read alone!

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of a monster schlong, and unedited.

Parts: 1 2

Synopsis: Childe offers Lisa a shady deal to yet again sit next to you. However, all his efforts are in vain after he makes a complete fool out of himself by tripping over literally nothing because of a stupid cold. Maybe getting a cold isn’t so bad if he gets to be escorted to the nurse’s office by none other than yourself.

Note: Pure unedited crack luvs. Can’t wait for Childe rerun tmr I hope I get the ginger and the emo nun! 🥲💖

The eyes on you are suffocating, to say the least, enough for you to consider peeling a layer of your own skin off just to breathe. Every now and then, you get a teasing glance from a classmate, and you're sure you'll be an entire puddle of guts on your desk before home room even gets a chance to begin.

There's no doubt it's Signora that spread the news of your date yesterday as a means to some sick revenge. Knowing this was going to happen, you packed some salt in your backpack to cancel out all her evil. Now all you need is a chance to knuckle ball it in her face.

Fingers crossed, you pray to the archons that Childe didn't slip anything about your...brick slip yesterday. It's a good thing you weren't in a school uniform yesterday because that would've been the end of your high school life right there.

Thinking back to it, you collapse into your open hands. How could you have beaten a bunch up losers up...risking your flawless reputation for a sadistic ginger with an affinity for chaos? And worst of all, why did you care about them shit talking him in the first place?

"You okay dear? Something you want to tell me?" Lisa feigns concern, already knowing why.

With a sigh, you blink an eye open through the gap in your fingers. "Doing just fine."

"Oh it couldn't have been that bad." Her eyes shine in mischief. "I bet Childe was a real gentleman."

"He sure was." Kaeya pipes up from the back, leaning in to show you the image on his phone. It's a picture Childe took of you absolutely oblitering an ice cream cone.

You groan and slump deeper into your chair from embarrassment as Kaeya and Lisa engage in chatter, mostly revolving around your date.

Ignoring them completely, you start to ponder about Childe. Where is he? You were sure he'd be here bright and early to reminisce on your eventful date yesterday, which mostly consisted of a competition of who could win the most stall games at a local festival.

Maybe he'd even tease you about the Monoceros Caeli keychain attached to your phone. The very one he'd won for you, and the reason that started the competition in the first place.

Your cheeks warm when you fidget with said keychain, and you can't tell if the fast pace of your heart is because you're nervous to see him or because of the biology quiz you have second period.

So wrapped up in all these foreign emotions, you fail to notice the shadow that looms over you, a glittery finger guard tapping at your desk.

The student council President, Ningguang, plops down a stack of budget files on your desk during homeroom. She's gives you a light smile, and you know what's coming when you meet her alluring gaze.

"Be a dear Y/N," Ningguang smiles, tight lipped, all pretty with her hair pinned back to crown her face. "Even with all hands on deck, i'm afraid the student council's efforts will not come to ripeness concerning all of this paperwork."

This isn't the first time you've done her a favour by becoming the president's personal accountant, and it definitely isn't going to be the last.

Ningguang is powerful, with wit like no other, and you want to be able to call in a chit when the time comes.

"Of course," You reply with a smile that rivals her own. "I'll have them done by the end of the day."

"Excellent. I knew I could count on you, Y/N." She departs elegantly, probably opting to sit next to Beidou and bicker.

You're halfway on the third sheet for total income, a minute before class starts, when you're interrupted. Childe stumbles through the door quite noisily, a shitstain of a grin plastered on his face that is directed at you.

You sigh and shake your head as he approaches you. Thankfully the seat next to you is occupied by—

Shit! Where's Lisa?

Across the classroom, Lisa gives you a thumbs up with a bar of vending machine chocolate in her hand. You should've known she'd betray you yet again.

Childe slides in smoothly after bumping fists with Kaeya, and he falls short of containing his giddy nature.

"Hi Y/N." There's something weird about him today, because you're sure you haven't seen his cheeks so flushed ever. His eyes land on your phone, which is splayed on the desk, and the keychain widens his grin.

You snatch your phone and hide it in the middles of your thighs, but the damage is already done. The urge to shrink against the wall has never been as strong as it is in this moment.

"Hi." It's a miracle you haven't combusted on the spot. Is it usually this awkward? Everything went so fine yesterday, so why can't you ease into it today?

He takes that as a go ahead and instantly reaches for your hand on the table, but you retract at the speed of light.

"Don't even think about it." You're ready to connect the tip of your trainers to his bleached asshole, nose crinkled at his behaviour.

Kaeya whistles lowly, leaning forward for the HD show that is your life.

Childe's smile is sheepish as he's scratching the back of his head. "So we're not on that stage yet huh? I seriously thought you had a change of heart after you beat up those high schoolers for m—"

You muffle his statement with a hand on his mouth, and send a pointed glare to Kaeya. "You didn't hear shit."

The Captain of the skating team nods innocently, and salutes. "Yes boss."

Returning your gaze to Childe, who looks like he's having the time of his life with your small hand on his mouth, you narrow your eyes. "Stop trying to spread rumours."

He can only hum in reply, but you feel a weird pressure on your palm and—

The smug asshole kisses your palm.

You pull back your hand and wipe at your pants, full of disbelief. "Did you just??? Did you just? Kiss my hand???" Mouth twisted, you have no idea what to think.

Childe's throws his head back, and his laugh rings in your ears. You hate yourself for wavering slightly at the sound before smacking his arm. His laughs turn into coughs, probably because he may have swallowed his saliva down the wrong pipe. Charming.

Where the fuck is Zhongli? It's already been five minutes too long into homeroom.

Rolling your eyes, you opt to continue and scribble down budget numbers and add sums up or whatever you were doing earlier after Childe pipes down, choosing to admire you quietly by leaning his weight on one arm. It's enough to make you squirm, face flushed.

"Can you not?" Clicking your tongue in disapproval, you don't look up as you speak.

"If you give me a kiss, then maybe." Childe's cheeky, ridiculously so, and he points a finger at his cheek.

"I don't negotiate with terrorists." You deadpan, fingers itching to choke something or rather...someone.

Childe pouts, and then his eyes close for a second, almost as if he's exhausted when he gives you a sort of smile. With how he's leaning in so close, you can easily spot the swelling in his eyes and the paleness of his face.

For the first time today, there's no bite in your tone when you ask with a slightly raised brow. "Are you okay Childe?"

"Yeah!" He's quick to answer ecstatically, snapping out of his tired haze by straightening himself up. "Better more than ever now that I've seen you, girlie."

You blush madly, the compliment enough for you to drop your pen on the ground. It rolls over beyond your reach.

"I'll get that." Childe jumps out of his chair and you're unable to stop him as he goes to go fetch your pen like the chivalrous idiot he is. There's a slight pause in his movement, his body taking longer to process the messages his brain is sending.

He recovers from the muddle in his cognition by shaking his head, and casually goes to pick up the pen, then ends the move by falling over backwards in unconsciousness.

"Childe!" You lunge for him, managing to catch him a second prior to his ass hitting the floor with the help of Kaeya, who somehow looks like he's expected this outcome from the very start.

The entire classroom clamps up and turns to look for the root of all the commotion.

"Don't just sit there and watch!" You hiss angrily, waving them off. "Someone get Zhongli!"

Aether doesn't need to be told twice as Venti and him race down the hall together. Venti probably just to use this opportunity of sudden chaos to skip homeroom.

"Looks like a fever." The Captain accesses the situation as a small crowd forms around you two. "There's no way he didn't feel it in the morning."

"The absolute idiot." You groan at his words. "Of course he'd try to have a pissing match with a cold."

"I'm still here you know." Childe slurs, leaning into you for warmth, chest rising and falling softly. "Just a...a little sleepy. Am I dreaming angel?"

You roll your eyes, but don't make any moves to lean away from his touch. "Anyone got a water bottle?" Curling your hands around his shoulder, you shift your gaze towards the crowd.

Somebody passes you an emerald green water bottle with dandelion charms that clink against the hard plastic handle from a nearby desk. It screams stupid, but you don't have time to judge the owner.

Opening it up hastily, you're about to let Childe take a sip until it's snatched away from you at the speed of light.

"Hey what gives!" You call out to Kaeya, who inspects the bottle closely with his one eye. He then nods in affirmation as if his suspicions are confirmed.

"I wouldn't recommend it." Is all he says when he motions for you to take a whiff, which you do so reluctantly, eyes closed.

The scent hits you all it once. It's watered down vodka, except without the watering down. Tears form from the intensity.

"The goddamn bard." You choke out, and it earns you a drained chuckle from the ginger that has his head situated on your forearm.

He has half the mind to nuzzle in further, but the position is convenient enough for you to crush his skull if you wish to do so. So he refrains, albeit reluctantly.

Zhongli manages to make it in less than two minutes, sipping on a cup of steaming tea as he breaks apart the crowd to crouch down. "Is everything alright? I came as soon as I could after I made this tea. I assumed it was just another prank."

Everyone in the room shakes their head incredulously.

"Unfortunately it isn't a prank. Childe fainted briefly." You tell him politely despite the urgency, since you're whipped for all your teachers.

"I didn't faint!" Childe groans, exasperated. "Got a little dizzy s'all."

"Yeah," Kaeya cuts in to summarize the situation. "I'll be happy to take him to the nurses office with Y/N—"

Zhongli clears his throat. "You won't be going anywhere Mr.Alberich. I'm sure you have five overdue assignments in my class. Y/N here can walk him just fine." He then attempts to wink at Childe secretly like the wingman he is, but everyone in the classroom and their grandma notices.

The facepalm you do is not enough to render you brain dead.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sigh for the nth time today, and it's only eight thirty in the morning. "No worries, Lisa can help—"

"Sorry cutie. I'm manifesting for the biology quiz." Lisa deflects, lighting three candles on her desk unceremoniously with her eyes closed.

You don't understand why no one has confiscated her box of matches yet. This entire school is a law suit waiting to happen.

You succumb to the team effort everyone is trying so hard to display. "I guess I can go." The hall pass is already written, signed, and neatly folded into the chest pocket of your uniform. "How did you even..."

You don't even get a chance to finish before both you and Childe are whisked away to the outside of the classroom, the door shutting behind you with a slam. Your ears perk up at the sound of a lock clicking in place.

"Looks like you're stuck with me." The smug bastard still has the audacity to beam even when he's pale in the face. "Might have to hold my arm. If I fall and crack my skull—that wouldn't look too good on your record." He makes grabby hands, like a toddler.

The smile you give is unnerving, and with the speed of a snail, you manage to loop in your arm with Childe's. "Another word and let's move on to how your hospital record is going to have more than just a cracked skull."

"If you'd nurse me back to health, it'll all be worth it." The quip he sends without a beat lacks its usual goof, but it does manage to get some sort of reaction out of you.

"Whatever. Let's just get this over with."

—

Childe's busy thumbing at his phone while you pace at the foot of the bed, arms crossed with a frown etched on your features. You hope you don't look too worried, don't want to give him the wrong idea.

"Can we just get this over with?" He wails uncharacteristically from his spot on the white sheeted bed after ruling out everything he wanted to do on his phone. His hair is tousled more than usual, as a by-product of his constant restlessness.

"Shut up." You answer monotonously, arms crossed as you lean against the wall. "Let her finish her tiktok."

Barbara—the daughter of the school nurse, has her phone on the window, lip syncing and dancing to some music on beat as she films a tiktok with the utmost of important.

It's concerning that her father isn't here to tend to your needs, but apparently he's in the middle of a meeting with principle Varka. Said meeting had been going on for the past few months, but this school is devoid of logic anyways so nobody really questions anything.

"I'm literally dying here."

"Archons you're such a baby," Shaking your head, you approach his bed with a newfound annoyance. "Barbara has to create a tiktok at least once every twenty four hours or her fan club goes feral and..."

"Tries to jump off the roof as the ultimate sacrifice to her majesty." Childe sighs, and for the first time you sense his irritation. "Got it."

Just in time, Barbara finishes her cute little dance and comes over to where Childe is laying.

Childe doesn't miss the way your scowl has dissipated, and you give Barbara your undivided attention, hearts in your eyes from all the adoration. He has half the mind to call you out on it, no doubt a little jealous over how the young highschool idol can get you to show more emotion than him.

"I'm so sorry! I started those tiktoks out of mild interest but now I have an obligation to my fans." The younger apologizes profusely, getting to work almost immediately.

"No worries." Childe starts, staying still as the blonde examines him. "I'm sure it's nothing too serious. Y/N here is being dramatic, she probably just wants to spend some alone time with me."

You inhale sharply, turn to Barbara, and ask. "If I jumped out of the window right now from this floor, would it be a quick and easy death?"

The younger girl's eyes widen, and Childe stifles his snort.

"Kidding." You raise your hands up to cease her worries, and then motion towards him. "Common cold?"

"Yes," Barbara moves on and writes down something on a slip. "We'll just keep him here until his parents can pick him up."

"My parents can't pick me up." He asserts in a casual tone. "Don't call them."

"We still have to call them. If they don't come, you're to stay in this bed all day." She hands you the note, which is a viable excuse for all the classes he'll miss today. "Give this to his homeroom teacher. You'd also better get to class, your hall pass is about to expire."

"Hold up." You remark, barely paying attention to the note that you've shoved down your pocket. "I'm not leaving him here alone." There's no room for argument, your decision is firmly stated.

Childe hypes you up in his weakened state, disoriented. "You tell em girlie."

"He won't be alone." Barbara flashes you a reassuring smile. "I'll be monitoring him until his parents get here."

"No, no, you don't understand." You argue, inquiring all the doubts you have. "He's gonna try to pull some shit and I'll have to be here to stop him."

"Ease up babe." Childe tries to calm you down, despite the giddiness in his chest at the realization that you want to take care of him.

His subconscious begs him to let you stay, to let himself be doted and cared for the way he's always wanted you to, but he knows he can't let you skip class. Not when you've worked so hard and come so far. "I'll be okay for a few. You can go back to class and then visit me during break."

You bite your lips, head jumbled with all the different possibilities of how shit can hit the fan. "I can't! What if Signora shows up? She'll poison you in this weakened state to get back at me for trying to exorcise her." The hesitation in your features gives away everything.

Childe's eye twitches at the thought of Signora out of all people getting the best out of him, and also the absolute audacity you have to be calling him weak. Clearly all his efforts towards the little shows of dominance (e.g. Shoving Pallad against a locker, spraying a hefty amount of cologne on, being an asshole in general, etc.) have not bore fruit.

"You tried to exorcise her?" Barbara gasps, momentarily reminding the two of you that she's still present.

"Her evil has no bounds." Your expression is hard to read, dead serious. "I do not regret my attempt at cancelling Satan's hell spawn."

Childe himself has been cancelled hundreds of times over the span of highschool because of all his problematic traits (e.g calling Venti a twink) and it is not a pleasant experience.

Though it does give him a sense of comfort, knowing that arrogant bitch Signora is finally getting what's coming to her, even if she is one of his friends.

Serves her right for trying to Pavlov her stupid Chihuahua into biting the closest human being just by the snap of her manicured finger. As if it's persistent yapping and tendency to run in front of cars isn't enough torture to deal with on a daily basis.

Childe's yanked out of his thoughts rather forcefully at the sound of the door opening abruptly, the handle crashing into the wall, shocking Barbara's attempts to reassure you.

He knows who it is because of his top tier gaydar, dreading what's to come.

Scaramouche is a morose son of a bitch with a mean streak that hasn't been broken since he was an itty bitty shit in the fourth grade.

"I can't believe you let yourself get sick!" The navy haired boy exclaims in disbelief, doubling over with tears, clapping his hands to add on some extra effects. "Natural selection finally decided to stop pussy footing around your primate-looking ass."

You press your lips together. "Isn't he supposed to be your best friend?"

Scaramouche sputters violently, using the wall as leverage to hold himself up. "You told her I'm your best friend? Oh fuck. Oh this is good. What else did you tell her huh? That you have a monster cock?"

"First of all, you make me reconsider my opinion on the death penalty, dickhead."

Barbara is mortified. Childe continues on anyways.

"—and I do have a monster cock. But why are you so interested in my monster cock huh?"

Scaramouche scrunches his face up in disgust, amusement nothing but a distant memory. "You don't have a monster cock you plebe."

Childe has an awfully scandalized expression on his face, but smoothly enough it transitions into an unsettling grin that you're all too familiar with. "You didn't deny not being interested in my monster cock though."

It's your turn to be mortified, shaking your head at the banter that goes on back and forth.

"How did you even know he was in here? We aren't even in the same class."

Scaramouche raises a brow as if you're some sort of toddler that's babbling out a mixture of Cheerios and spit, maybe a few digested strawberries here and there. He waves his phone in front of you, "posted it on his story."

"What the—give me that!" You snatch his phone right up, staring at the screen in bewilderment.

There's a video of you doing trick shots with your tech deck on the ledge of a nearby window with a pressed expression while waiting for Barbara to finish up, captioned with: "In the nurses office rn pray for me 🙏, there's this cute girl in front of me should I ask her out?"

You check the poll and ninety five percent say yes. Scaramouche voted no. You have mixed feelings.

Shaking your head, you give Childe, who's unable to sit still, a look of pure exasperation.

Scaramouche claws his phone back from you rather harshly, the bells on his hat jingling, making it hard for you to take him seriously when he sneers your way.

"You should be thankful you're the lover of my comrade." He shivers slightly at the word comrade. "or I would have obliterated you on the spot for that little stunt."

Childe doesn't even pretend to look fazed at the older's threat when he says "as if I'd allow a kumquat headass like you to touch my girl."

You and Barbara hastily jump in to stop the bloodbath that is seconds from happening. "No!"

Luckily, no limbs are teared apart.

#genshin impact #genshin impact oneshot #kaeya alberich #childe #childe x reader #fanfic #genshin oneshot #genshin tartagalia #tartagila #aether #venti genshin impact #genshin impact venti #kaeya genshin impact

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