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emberfrostlovesloki · 7 months

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Life Can Be Terrible, but at Least You're In It [Hotch x Reader]

Prompt: This is a mix of two of @imagining-in-the-margins Meet Cute writing challenge dialogue prompts. I’ve mixed the two prompts: “Do you believe in Fate” and “This was way too cliched” to write this fic.

Category: Angst/Comfort/Smut

Word Count: 9.2K

Content Warnings: Canon typical violence, U.S. police, hatred/violence against a religious group, light drinking, mention of self-harm (cutting - healed scars and one instance of open scars in the past), brief mention of childhood abuse, sex (oral -- fem and masc receiving, p in v).

A/N: Oh boy, I have lots to say. To start, this is another @imagining-in-the-margins inspired fic for her Meet Cute writing challenge. Moving on from that: first off, this is an 18+ story, minors DNI. I love engagement, but if you’re a minor this is not for you. Thank you for respecting this boundary. Second, this turned into a bit of trauma dumping for me. I’ve been having some thoughts about my past choices and decided to write them out with Hotch as a character (you know he’s a great listener.) Third, this is my first time posting smut, if it’s not great, please forgive me. I hope to get better at it as I keep writing for Aaron. Last, this turned out wayyyyy longer than I anticipated. As I’ve stated before, I find it hard to characterize Hotch if I’m not writing a ton which is evidenced here.

Please, please, please read the content warnings. If reading about scars and past self-harm might trigger you, please pass this one by. If you are thinking about engaging in self-harm, please reach out to a loved one or someone you trust. You deserve support. If all else fails, here is a support number you can call to get some help: Self Harm Crisis Line.

On a more positive note, If you enjoy this fic, likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated. I hope you all have a great night.

List with all stories

y/n = your name

_y/b/f_ = your best friend

_y/f/a_ = your favorite author

_y/f/f_ = your favorite flower

_f/c_ = your favorite color

Aaron was nervous about tonight. It was the first time that y/n was coming over to his place before a date. Normally he would offer to meet her at her apartment and they they would go out from there, or just hang out around the warm space doing something relaxing like cooking dinner or watching one of their favorite movies or TV shows. But last Thursday she had shown an interest in seeing his place and honestly, he didn’t have a valid excuse for why she shouldn’t come over. He kept his space neat and clean, he just thought that it didn’t have that much personality, but it would have to do and he knew she wouldn’t judge him if his taste was metrosexual. y/n had given her care and affection to him, not his apartment.

He hadn’t meant to have feelings for his newest agent. In fact, he made it a point to not fall in love with any of his agents or the women at the bureau as the idea of mixing work and pleasure felt all too unsure. If something went bad, or the relationship faltered, the fallout to the team would be immense, and he didn’t want to risk his own career for the sake of his team. However, when y/n had hastily been added on after a case that required a domestic terrorist and cult specialist, y/n had joined the team for what Aaron had assumed would be just the one case. He was hesitant to add someone new, but Strauss had him cornered on the issue and he agreed because he didn’t have a choice. He was weary of y/n -- not willing to trust someone he hadn’t vetted or already knew. However, y/n had sat back and didn’t assume a commanding role at all during the case. She paid attention to the facts and then looked at them from her lens of expertise. When she needed help she had asked JJ or Emily, and one time when it had only been him and y/n at the precinct, he had asked, “How are you feeling?” y/n had looked up and faced the intensity of his gaze and said, “I’m a bit lost, to be honest. I didn’t know it was going to be like this, but I think I’ve found some things that match the preliminary profile that would confirm the unsub was the leader of a religious cult with white Nationalist ideologies.” Hotch nodded. He might have been weary of y/n but at least she was honest and hadn’t done anything foolish or detrimental to the team yet. He pulled his eyes away from her gaze and moved closer to her saying, “Show me what you have?” He could see her physically relax as if she was expecting a reprimand instead of him wanting to listen to her, and he wondered if this was the natural response he got from most people who didn’t know him. At this, his internal monologue answered, “How can people get to know you, Aaron? You don’t open up.” Hotch pushed the thought aside and nodded that he was ready to hear what she had.

y/n observations had been instrumental in finding the unsubs and his compound's location. y/n just didn’t know how to slip her information in with the current profile. When the case was finished, Aaron sincerely extended a hand and said, “Thank you for your help, y/n, your insight was needed in solving this case. I may call on you again if another case like this comes to our team.” y/n had taken his hand and given in a firm shake, slightly awed by what she assumed was praise coming from someone as important and well-known as Agent Hotchner. She had replied, “It would be my honor, Sir.” With that he let the woman leave the tarmac. Once y/n was inside the bullpen, she checked to make sure Agent Hotchner wasn’t nearby, and she approached Emily, who was packing to go home. Emily looked at her and smiled, asking, “What’s up y/n?” y/n faltered for a second before saying, “Is Agent Hotchner always that, intense?” Emily smiled softly and replied, “Yeah, pretty much.” The brunette added, possibly because she was working through her own feelings for the team's enigmatic leader, “But he’s a good man and a good leader. In the end, he puts this team above everything else.” y/n blushed, realizing this was more than just a simple observation about Agent Hotchner. At this point, Aaron returned to the bullpen after calling Hailey to let her know that he was back and would be home that evening. He nodded at Emily and when she nodded back, y/n couldn't help but turn and see who Emily was looking at. Once she realized it was Agent Hotchner she snapped back to looking the other way; something Aaron hadn’t missed.

Aaron had called y/n for two more cases over the next three and a half months. y/n was a quick learner and during the next case, she was more prepared and tried to participate with the team more, willing to offer a comment that she thought would be useful. She still stood in the background most of the time, but it was clear she had improved from the first time she was on the team. When y/n and Derek were standing by the coffee pot at the local precinct, Morgan said, “y/n, I notice you’re a lot more on top of things this time. You’re doing a good job, that’s not always easy on a team like this.” y/n smiled and replied, “Well I did sort of research the team after the first case. You know not like stalking you or anything, I just read over a few of the previous major cases and stuff.” Derek nodded his approval and said, “Well it looks like the work is paying off.” While y/n thanked Derek, Aaron was standing a few feet away in the hallway and had heard the entire conversation. It wasn’t uncommon for people who spent a brief time on the team to do this. He got emails all the time from those who had had their brief stint on a case asking for a transfer. He also got emails from agents that had never set foot in the bullpen and to those he sent an automatically generated reply and then he would delete the email. Those who had worked for the team before might come back for a case, but rarely did he find them improved. Aaron realized that this felt callous maybe, but it was his job to have a cohesive team. A team that worked together in the worst possible circumstances and he wasn’t going to throw that away just because someone wanted to work with him or the team. However, Derek was right and he took a moment to look over at y/n wondering if just once, he was going to be proven wrong.

The third case Aaron called y/n into was a bad one. A group of domestic terrorists were kidnapping, torturing, and killing men from Middle Eastern countries, particularly those that were influential in the Islamic religion. The police were stumped, but y/n immediately said, “This is probably extremism based off of post-9/11 sentiments. The two-year anniversary is coming up and this could easily be someone affected on the ground or someone that got sent back from Iraq during Desert Storm.” The New York Police had a lot of opposition to the idea, but Aaron was aware that they would be very biased in their opinions on the matter as it was so close to home. He assuaged their fears, but later he pulled y/n and Spencer aside and told both of them to keep running with y/n’s initial theory. As it turned out the call was coming from inside the house, or rather the police station as the unsub was one of the officers on staff at the station. He had spiraled quickly as the team got closer and closer to finding him. As a last desperate act, the officer, Monroe, had found another victim and pulled them to the station, threatening to bomb a religious building in the city and shoot the innocent victim if the BAU didn’t find someone else to blame for his crimes in an hour. y/n had been in the lady's room as this unfolded in the main lobby, but she heard the gunfire and quickly and quietly moved closer. She overheard the last of the unsubs plan. As Spencer tried to talk the man down, y/n had slipped her sidearm out of its holster and removed the safety. She looked into the mirror that showed the main room to pinpoint the location of Officer Monroe. For a moment before she made the final move into the open space, she looked to the side and caught Hotch’s eye. He gave her a minuscule nod, telling her to go ahead. Aaron jumped and pulled Spencer to the ground and the millisecond they were both in the clear before the unsub could figure out what was happening, y/n shot the man’s right hand which was holding his sanctioned firearm, and then y/n shot his shoulder, fully incapacitating officer Monroe. When this was done, Derek rushed forward and pulled the unsub away from the victim. Emily and JJ moved toward the victim and after she had re-engaged the safety and put her gun away, y/n helped Hotch and Spencer to their feet.

Aaron looked over y/n for signs of shock or distress given that she had just been in a highly dangerous position and that she had just shot a man twice. He didn’t see any of those signs in her as she let go of Spencer's hand and moved toward JJ and Emily to provide some help with the victim who was now in hysterics. Instead, Aaron saw a steely calm resolve in y/n’s demeanor, indicating that this was hardly the first time she had been put under this kind of pressure. As Hotch moved toward the cuffed unsub he noticed the clean shot to the hand and shoulder, not meant to kill but incapacitate the unsub. Officer Monroe was screaming a stream of obscenities and racial epitaphs at anyone in earshot but mostly directed at the victim and y/n. Aaron and Derek roughly grabbed the man’s arms and moved him to another room. As they walked, Aaron turned to the man and said, “Shut up, or I’ll wait to call the paramedics until it’s too late to save your hand.

A few hours later after the unsub had been transferred to the hospital in custody he overheard some of the officers speaking negatively of the team, and particularly of y/n who had been the one to originally spot the ‘bad apple’ among their ranks. Aaron was overly familiar with the police and justice system and he knew that the police unions and members were a big boys club where they would do almost anything to protect their paychecks, reputation, and each other. Bitterly he thought, 'Well if you’re so concerned, maybe stop perpetrating injustice.’ As Aaron entered the room with the officers he realized that y/n was in the same room speaking with JJ. The officers had been speaking just loudly enough for y/n to overhear their comments. Something in Aaron twitched uncomfortably. Maybe it was the fact that y/n wasn’t even a real member of the team and was being villainized, or the fact that there was nothing he could do to stop the officers from their conversation. When he passed by the men he frowned at them, and for a moment they grew silent as he passed. As he approached the two women, they made space for him to stand, and he turned his gaze to y/n saying, “Good shooting today. Especially given the fact that you only had that mirror to guess your angles and distance. A lot of innocent people would be dead if it hadn’t been for you.” As much as Agent Hotchner’s complement burned her insides in a pleasant way, she replied in a controlled manner, saying, “I was just doing my job, Sir.” Aaron nodded slightly and he intentionally caught her gaze and when he was sure he had it, he looked over to the men who had been making vitriolic statements toward her. y/n followed his eyes and when he was looking at her again she just gave a small shrug of the shoulders, as if saying, ‘Yeah, I heard, but what can you do?” This response tugged a small smile from him, and he cleared his throat and turned to JJ to ask her a question about the media response. Although y/n and even Aaron might not realize it, y/n had passed most of his internal tests for the Agents he allowed on his team.

When y/n received an email from Hotch asking her to meet him at his office two days from now, she worried that something had happened. That she had made some kind of error. y/n arrived at the Bureau at the designated time and knocked on the door that was slightly ajar. Hotch called her in and said, “Take a seat, Agent y/n.” y/n did as asked and felt an uncomfortable churning in her stomach. After a moment of silence, y/n couldn’t take the anticipation anymore, making the first rash move she had while being around the BAU team and Agent Hotchner in general. She asked, “Have I done something wrong Agent Hotchner?” Again there was a lingering silence that felt like it lasted ages before Aaron replied, “If I sent you a transfer request to the BAU to join my team, would you accept?” The words took a moment to register, and y/n’s eyes went wide. It took all her strength from not letting her jaw drop at the very suggestion. Needing another moment to let the words process, she gave the throw-away comment, “Sir?” Aaron knew she had heard him and if there was one thing about him, it was that he didn’t repeat himself if he knew the other party had heard him. Even for someone as new as y/n. There was yet another silence and finally, y/n had the brain function to say, “Well if that transfer request were to happen, then I would have to have the sad and uncomfortable conversation with my own unit chief and let them know that I would be accepting a new position in the Bureau.” Hotch caught onto y/n’s hypothetical language but could see in her eyes that she would accept his offer. He cleared his throat and pulled an unnecessary piece of paper in front of him for some reason, moving his eyes to the random form in front of him. He looked back up and there was that kind of shocked look that people got around him sometimes. It was odd for him to see this one y/n’s face, but he couldn’t blame her. Offers like his came once in a lifetime. Less than that really. He gave her one last look before stating, “You’ll receive an email from me on Monday.”

The transition from the terrorism unit to the BAU was good for the team as a whole. Having a new set of eyes on the cases and a new dynamic shook up the team in a way that reinvigorated their brains. y/n wasn’t perfect. She made mistakes and she owned up to them. Hotch reprimanded her like he would any old or new member of the team. With time she became an integral part of the unit. And in that time Hotch couldn’t help but be drawn to her. It wasn’t like a magnet or love at first sight; he was far too cynical to believe in things like that, but Hotch had paid attention to her in a way that he hadn’t with the other team members. Maybe it was because he hadn’t needed to train and mentor a new member of the team since Emily had joined and he had told himself, ‘There isn’t a valid reason for you to not pay closer attention to y/n.’ As it would turn out, this would be a recurrent theme with him and his thoughts toward y/n.

The first time Aaron knew he was in trouble in regard to y/n was after she had been with the team for a few months. She had started to do this ritual where after each case when each member of the team had gotten home, she would text them all individually simply asking, “Are you doing okay?” Or some variation of that simple, yet loaded question. The first time Aaron had received that message he was confused for a second, but simply responded, “I’m fine.” To which y/n had simply replied, “Good.” The second time it had happened Aaron realized that she was being very intentional with this message, both in its simplicity and when she was sending it. Often after a case, even up until the team had arrived back at the emotions and adrenaline ran high, either because of the excitement or sheer rush of feelings that could overwhelm someone when dealing with such difficult circumstances. But getting a message like that after a few hours, after getting to a safe space and the real underlying emotions had a chance to set in allowed the team members to give an honest response - not one based off of heightened states. Similarly, the simply worded message allowed for a range of responses from a two-word sentence to full-fledged conversations if wanted or needed. After two more cases, Aaron indulged in the possibility of opening up.

Hailey had recently left him and y/n was the only one who seemed, even if not directly relating to his recent separation, to provide a space for him to open up. He replied, “I’m home safe. I have some conflicting feelings about the outcome of this case. I don’t feel the closure that I sometimes do when we finish with a case.” Aaron sent the message and wondered if this sounded desperate? If his own personal experience was on clear display, and if it was, how _y/n_ was going to respond. He didn’t have to wait long as his phone pinged and he read y/n’s reply “It’s good to know your home. Would you like to talk about the case? It was a rough one, even by the team's standards.” Aaron slumped down onto his couch letting out a long breath. If y/n had read deeper into his personal life, she hadn’t highlighted it and was still providing space for him to continue talking either about what this was really about, or the case itself. Aaron realized that he needed to take a deeper look at himself if a case and Hailey leaving was having such a profound impact on him. He realized that y/n’s checking in was very likely a way that she coped with the horrors she saw on the job, and he didn’t want to burden her with his personal problems along with the darkness that their work included. He typed out, “No. Not really,” and sent that message out to the ether. Aaron closed his eyes as he waited for a response. It came in a few minutes, and he looked at his phone. The message from y/n read, “Okay. Take care of yourself, please.” Hotch’s heart gave a tiny tug that she would say something so candid and caring toward him. He typed out, “Thank you, y/n,” and his thumb ghosted over the send button before he changed his mind and deleted the message and typed out instead, “See you on Monday, y/n.” Aaron realized that if he sent the other message the hint of feelings that he was just becoming aware of might bubble up bigger than the tiny drip they were at now might emerge. Hotch stood and undid his tie and the buttons on his shirt. A last ping of his phone made him look at it one last time with tired, blurry eyes. The response read, “See you Monday, Hotch.” Aaron clicked his phone off as he pulled off his shirt to go and take a hot shower. Again there was that nagging tug at his heart because in her letting him go for the night, she was also trying to give him what he wanted, space.

But texting wasn’t the reason that he was now straightening the pillows on his couch and, God knows why, moving into his bedroom and smoothing the sheet and comforter on his bed. He didn’t expect them to end up there at the end of the night, in fact, he expected that y/n would go back to her place and he would stay here, missing her. Anyway, he did it just in case. As he reflected back to the moment that had really made him start having serious feelings for y/n was when she called him and used his first name for the first time. It had been a bad case. A case involving kids being killed and manipulated by the unsub. After not taking the deal with Foyett, Aaron’s brain constantly swirled with thoughts of his son, and any case involving kids made him tense up and made him question his choices. Anytime he had interacted with the children who had been affected and traumatized by the unsub he saw Jack’s face there. He was overwhelmed with emotions, anger, fear, and sadness. It was all too much for him. When the team arrived home after the case and he had made his way to his apartment he fell into bed exhausted. He had forgotten that y/n would text and he was even more surprised when he was woken by his phone ringing. He clicked answer and pulled it to his ear. With a gentle voice, y/n had said, “Hotch, Aaron. Are you going to be okay?” Hotch’s sleep-addled brain took a moment to register his first name on y/n’s lips, but the feeling it provoked was still surprising. Not that he was unaware of his growing feelings for her, just that he had been suppressing them; holding them tight to his chest in his innermost being. He realized after a moment that he hadn’t responded to y/n’s question and finally, he said groggily, “Sorry, I was just taking a nap.” There was a pause and then y/n replied, “No, I’m sorry. I can let you go.” Without even thinking Hotch with a note of desperation said, “No, please. I, I’d like to talk.

Hotch couldn’t see it, but on the other end of the line, y/n moved to her couch and sat down, doing her best to be present with Aaron through the phone. She could tell that this was different. He was being real with her. This wasn’t, Agent Hotchner, leader of the most important team in the FBI, this was just Aaron. She took a moment to think of what to say. She knew what this was all about and decided to share honest thoughts and said, “Hotch, you’re a good father.”

Hotch blinked surprisingly at y/n’s choice of words, and the honesty in them. Incredulously he replied, “On who’s authority?” There was a sigh on the other end of the line and he wanted to hear what _y/n_ was going to say. Her response was, “I mean, I’m not a parent. Maybe it’s not my place to comment on parenting, but I see how you interact with Jack. When you’re with him you give him everything that’s in you. You don’t even notice that you’re doing it Hotch. And yeah, nobody’s perfect, not even you, but when you’re with him -- it’s all I can see. You’re doing the best with what you have, financially and emotionally and that’s all anyone can ask for. People like to say that you can give a hundred and ten, a hundred and twenty percent to people and relationships, but I just don’t think that’s possible with people. And in our line of work, it’s hard to give seventy percent to anything other than the job. But, Jack, Jack always gets a hundred percent from you.” y/n realized that she was being highly personal with her words, to her boss. She stopped what might have been a rambling mess of words and bit the inside of her lip. Maybe she would get a real reprimand from Hotch for this. He had corrected her before in his stern authoritative manner, but he had never really been mad at her. She also tried hard not to think about the fact that she wanted to give him a hundred percent too. She knew she couldn’t have that. She could never have that.

In the lingering silence between y/n’s comments, Aaron closed his eyes and tried to see it from her point of view. Was she really looking at him that closely so that she could catch all of these things? He knew she was speaking honestly, she really spoke from a place of untruth, and she did that only when she had to on cases. He wondered if people ever threw her honesty in her face. As someone so closed off, it was hard for him to believe her in a way. With a hint of hesitation, he asked, “Do you really think so?” A second later, y/n said, “Of course. Of course I do, Aaron.” He relaxed further in the bed as she used his first name again. It sounded so lovely coming from her. They spent another half hour talking, more about the case than his parenting, and when Aaron hung up, he felt decidedly lighter than he had when he had originally come here.

The next Monday, when Aaron found a quiet moment in the office where the rest of the team wasn’t paying attention, he moved to y/n’s desk and she looked up at him with a smile. Aaron clenched his hand before releasing the final tension he felt in what he was about to do. He raised his hand and placed it on her shoulder. That familiar warmth they both felt when they came into close contact seeped through both of them. All Aaron said was, “Thank you, y/n.” With that, he removed his hands and walked up to his office. He knew that his actions weren't profoundly romantic or anything. He hadn’t swooped down and kissed y/n and pulled her body close to his, but in his actions, he had opened the floodgates for what might come.

It happened slowly, like most things in his life. Both because y/n and Aaron needed to be cautious for work's sake, but also because neither of them could really believe it was actually happening after so long. The first almost date had been when she got two tickets to see her favorite author do a reading with her best friend. Unfortunately _y/b/f_ had to cancel two days before. y/n was really bummed about it and Aaron could tell. He had approached her and said, “Would you like me to come with you? I don’t really know anything about _y/f/a_, but I can tell that it’s important to you.” Her eyes glistened at the idea and she said, “You’d do that?” Aaron let out a laugh and said, “Of course if you want me to.” y/n had beamed at him and for a moment he felt stunned at how beautiful she looked when she was this happy. He wished he could see her like this more. The reading was great, y/n had cried and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, letting her feel her emotions. They had gotten coffee after and as he walked y/n back to her apartment, she stopped at her door and turned. y/n went out on a limb and stepped closer to him. She was close enough to feel the heat emanate from his body. With a last moment of deliberation, she closed the gap and wrapped her arms around him, tucking her head into his chest. Aaron tensed for a moment before he let his body naturally respond. He gently wrapped his arms around his form and held her close to him.

Oh God, it felt so good to have her that near to him, to be able to actually hold her. Surprisingly it had been Derek who had encouraged him to make the leap of making y/n a more permanent fixture in his life. The team had all been at Rossi’s for dinner and y/n and Emily were at the wine bar pouring themselves another glass of red. Aaron was unknowingly looking at y/n longingly and Derek sat down next to him with a shot in his hand. The younger man said, “Are you ever going to tell her how you feel?” Aaron was pulled from his thoughts and looked over to Derek saying, “Sorry, what was that?” Derek chuckled and said, “Hotch, you deserve to be happy after everything you’ve been through.” At this Aaron made a face, but Morgan kept talking saying, “If you’re afraid that she’s not going to reciprocate your feelings, I see the way she looks at you. She likes you too.” Aaron let out a sigh and Derek put a hand on his shoulder saying, “Just think about it. A lot of people would be happy to have y/n, but she’d be happy to have you.” That evening as y/n dropped him off they had kissed for the first time outside in the parking lot.

The light knock on his door pulled him from his memories, and he stood and neatened his trousers and shirt as he opened the door for y/n. He opened the door and let y/n in. She smiled at him handed him a wrapped bouquet of hyacinth and baby breath and said, “For you, Aaron.” He smiled and leaned down giving her a kiss. He had brought her _y/f/f_ when she had first invited him to her apartment and she was returning the gesture. As he found a vase to put the flowers in, he offered her a chilled glass of water, and y/n moved around the space observing his neutral-toned apartment. After he set the flowers on the table, he came up beside her and slipped his hand around her waist. He was looking at his wall full of pictures. They were mostly of Jack, but there were a few of him and Hailey and a few he had taken on an old camera that was still around the apartment somewhere. She turned to look at him and said, “Jack’s grown up so much since some of these were taken.” Aaron hummed in her ear and said, “It’s crazy to think about. He’s going to school and making friends. When I talk to him on the phone I can hear him becoming his own person.” y/n turned back to the photos and found one where Hailey was particularly radiant, and she commented, “She looks so…” There was a pause as beautiful seemed to fall flat as a superlative. y/n finished the sentence with, “luminant here.” Hotch’s eyes moved from her to the picture and back to her. He deeply appreciated that y/n included Jack and even Hailey in her consideration of him and his life and happiness. Her comment made him look over y/n in her _f/c_ turtle neck and back corduroy skirt and said, “You look lovely tonight, y/n.” The flush on her face always made him feel a certain way, and as she turned to look over the space again she said, “I like it, Aaron. It’s calming and I think almost anyone could feel safe here.” Hotch hadn’t particularly decorated the space with that in mind, but again he didn’t have the eye for fashion or design that y/n had. He simply said, “I’m glad you like it, and that you feel safe here.” He took a breath and then asked, “You ready to head out, or do you want to sit for a bit?” y/n took his hand and replied, “Let’s head out, our reservations are in a half hour, and just because it’s Friday night and there might be traffic.” Hotch nodded and he moved to the counter and grabbed his coat and car keys. They headed out to the wine tasting at a jazz club that they both liked.

The date went well and as they arrived back at Aaron’s place he got out of the car and opened the door for y/n. They were both slightly buzzed, but not inebriated or without their wits. As y/n got out of the car he asked, “Would you like to come back inside for a bit or do you want to get back to your place?” y/n smiled and said, “I’d like to be with you for a while longer?” They left the crisp autumn air behind as they reentered Aaron’s apartment. He grabbed them both a glass of water and they sat on his couch y/n turned her head to him and he leaned down kissing him. His lips were so soft and warm on her mouth. The taste of him was a craving, a desire she couldn’t easily let go unless they were like this. Aaron could feel her love and longing in the way she moved her mouth over his. He wanted more, needed more of that feeling that he had been missing for the last few months. He slipped his tongue out of his mouth and over her bottom lip. y/n sighed, surprised by this new action from him, but opened up to his request. Aaron moved into the space, moving his tongue over hers and the contours of her mouth. As he explored this new space, y/n let out a small moan into his mouth. She moved her right hand to his thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze letting him know that she was enjoying this moment. Her hand on his leg, so close to his groin made his cock twitch and he felt embarrassed for a second because something as small as her hand on him had elicited a response. y/n felt Aaron’s body tense under her hand and could imagine what had happened with this body. When they broke apart for air, y/n shifted from his side and moved so her legs were straddling his on the couch. She didn’t put any weight on him, wanting to make sure he was comfortable with this. Hotch’s eyes widened at the change of position and he sucked in a deep breath, his body already flushing. y/n placed her hands on the couch just above his shoulders. Her eyes glistened in the soft light of his lamps and she asked, “Is it too fast for you Aaron?” Hotch made a small sound, it was so quiet that it was almost unnoticeable in the space. He nodded his head no and replied, voice low, “No. It’s not. As long as you're comfortable with what we’re doing. We can take it at your pace. I want you, y/n.” At hearing his words and seeing the hunger in his eyes, she lowered her body until it was pressing close to him.

Her skirt was short and fitted and as her knees spread to sit on him it shifted up to her waist. Aaron was a bit too preoccupied to notice this yet as kissing him again; first on the mouth and then his earlobe sucking and lightly nipping the soft flesh. He let out a groan that was louder than he was expecting. His body was really reacting to her touch. What had been a twitch in his pants was now throbbing against the waistband of his pants. y/n felt his erection growing under her. While she moved to his jawline and began half-open-mouth kisses and licking the area, she shifted her weight again and moved her hand to the buckle of his dark brown belt. She fumbled with the metal as she continued her work on his face. She similarly undid the button and pulled down the zipper of his pants. Once his member was freer, y/n pressed against him providing him with some much-needed friction. Again made that low noise that made her core tingle and burn at the same time. At this, Aaron couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to be touching her. Aaron shifted strongly but carefully picked y/n under the thighs and he moved so that they switched spots. Now that he was the one above her, he moved to pull at the edge of her shirt. y/n raised her arms for him and the fabric came easily over her head. He leaned down and kissed her hungrily. His hands found traction on her waist and the warm feeling of them resting there made y/n make a small sound into his mouth. Aaron moved his mouth away from hers and placed a hand over her _f/c_ lacy bra. Her breasts and nipples were visible to him through the semi-sheer fabric and lace and he marveled down at her form laid bare to him. He gently massaged the right breast in his hand and he felt her nipple harden under his touch. For the first time that night y/n whispered his name in a way that made Aaron feel more alive than he had in a long time. With his other hand, he took y/n’s left hand and slowly started kissing up the side of her arm. He looked over the litany of healed scars crisscrossing the warm skin under his mouth.

He had noticed them the first day he had met her. Although they weren’t pronounced as they were old and healed, he still saw them. How couldn’t he see them running up her arm and under her three-quarter sleeves? He was a profiler after all. He never said anything about them. He’d never heard the team talk about them either. It would be rude to of course, and really it had been none of his business at the time. But not that he could see them so clearly running up her arm he had to wonder. He sucked on the hollow spot of her elbow joint, and y/n bucked slightly, moving her hand down to this clothed groin. He let out a gasp as her hand began moving over his hard penis. Her hand traced the line of his arousal and he had to hold back from bucking under her touch. He kept moving as her hand worked over him. As he moved up her arm to her shoulder and collarbone, he moved his other hand to her left breast, massaging the tissue with his deft hand. With his other hand, he pushed down the strap of her bra and again started kissing her chest. Once more he kissed over her chest and noticed that the scars weren’t only endemic to her left arm. They were scattered haphazardly over her shoulder and collarbone. These marks had healed darker than the ones on her arm. He realized that if he paid close attention to his mouth, which he was, he could feel the difference between the smooth skin and that which had been opened many years ago. They were both making soft, needy noises and their movements grew more urgent. Aaron was now moving himself along her hand and y/n tipped her head back and said, “Aaron, please. I need more. I need you.” Hotch nodded and again, he stopped his frantic body and hooked his arms under her legs, now picking her up and moving into the bedroom. She clung to him, arms wrapped around his neck. He set her gently on the bed and almost immediately pulled at her skirt. She rested the heels of her feet on the mattress and lifted her hips, so he could get rid of the fabric now bunched around her waist. Once the skirt was discarded, Aaron pushed her back onto the mattress. He also pulled off his shirt and discarded his pants in two fluid motions. y/n looked at the bulge in his briefs and smiled to herself. She knew he must be impressive, but being so close to seeing it in full confirmed her assumptions. Hotch leaned down and began sucking at the soft, flushed skin of her thigh.

The fact that Hotch’s mouth was breathing hot and loud against her leg and that he was moving steadily toward her center, made her arch her back in pleasure and the feelings of warmth continued to move through her. As Aaron’s mouth got closer to her black underwear, he was faced with the presence of scars once more. There were less of them here on her thigh, close to her center, but these seemed deeper, more deliberate. He wanted to kiss these, to continue the path of pleasure he was on, but it felt wrong. For him to be doing this without acknowledging something, to check in with her before he continued. y/n could feel his hesitation. She saw how he had paused each time he noticed a new area affected by her prior self. Her voice cut through his fog as she said, “I’m not embarrassed by them anymore you know. I used to be, but not now.” Hotch lifted his body and chest upright looking deeply into her eyes. He knew this was important to her, but also to him. For him to understand if she wanted to talk about it. He shifted and placed a hand on her thigh, just below her panty line, indicating that he wasn’t finished yet, just taking a break. All he could think of saying was, “I’m sorry.” y/n scoffed at this, not at him but, more at the idea. She placed a hand on his cheek and said, “You know no one ever talks to me about them. Not even when they were red and bleeding did anyone say anything. I thought certainly my parents, or teachers, or friends would say something, but they didn’t because they didn’t know how.” y/n looked away and removed her hand from his face saying, “Sorry. I’m kind of being a buzzkill, aren’t I?” Aaron’s eyes deepened, and he took both her hands in his and said, “No, no it’s not to me. Please, you can talk to me if you want.”

She looked back to his face and it was clear to her that his desire for her wasn’t ebbing with this conversation. He was still Aaron, the Aaron she had spent months with, but this was different and she knew it. y/n let out a breath and said, “I got so good at hiding them that when I stood naked in front of a mirror I would flinch at my own reflection.” Hotch nodded slightly and asked, “Did they hurt you a great deal?” y/n took her bottom lip in her mouth for a moment before replying, “Not really. At least not until the next day. I was just looking for a release you know? Something to distract me from what was happening.” Aaron’s hand on her thigh gently started tracing over the scarred tissue with his thumb and he said, “Well I’m still sorry that you felt you needed to do that. Even if it was to protect you emotionally.” y/n gave him a small smile. She looked up at him with her large eyes, sincere in their clarity as she said, “You don’t have to apologize, Aaron. I’ve forgiven the younger version of me that made the choice to hurt herself. She was scared and angry and didn’t understand what was happening to her.” Aaron could ask about what exactly had been going on in her younger years. But he didn’t. He wanted her to be in control of this conversation, and a moment later, she said, “Plus, there are better ways to find release than when I was in high school.”

Aaron flushed and felt his erection which had gone semi-soft twtich again. He reached out for her and said, “Are you sure? We can stop for tonight if you like.” y/n shook her head no and replied, “No, I want to keep going. I want to go all the way with you, Aaron.” Aaron nodded and pulled her close again, embracing her mouth with his. His right hand slipped behind y/n’s back and he deftly undid the clasp of her bra. He pulled far enough away to pull the intimate article off, and he said, “Just let me know if you need me to stop, alright. At any point, we can take a break.” y/n hummed her agreement and threaded her hands through his short hair. Aaron moved his face lower and he breathed warmly over her right breast. The warm sensation over her sensitive skin caused her nipples to grow taught again. Aaron leaned in and took the tissue in his mouth. He swirled the nipple with his tongue and y/n let out a sound so desperate and beautiful that he grew rock hard again in an instant. He kneaded the other breast with his hand and his left hand slipped under the waistband of her panties. She was desperately wet as he moved his pointer and middle fingers over her folds and heat. After a moment of this, Aaron pulled his face from her chest, wanting to get more of those sounds from her mouth. He got her out of the last piece of her clothing and he looked over her bare sex for a moment before diving in with his mouth. The taste of her on his lips was intoxicating, more intoxicating than the wine they had imbibed earlier that night. He moved over her wetness with an urgency. Again, y/n spoke his name with a need he didn’t know he needed to hear. She arched her back against his strong and accurate tongue. Hotch pressed her stomach back flush with the mattress and he reveled as her body twitched beneath his hand. As his tongue began entering her most intimate area, she moaned. She could feel herself coming close and wasn’t ready for the feeling to stop. She called his name and he stopped immediately, checking in with her. He looked up at her and his face and nose were wet with her excitement. “What is it, y/n. Do you want to stop?” He said it rather breathlessly as he had been very intent in his work. y/n replied, “Far from it, but I want to taste you too. I want you in my mouth.”

Aaron stilled for a moment and said, “You're sure?” y/n smiled mischievously and said, “More than anything.” He felt a growl in his throat and he finally took off his briefs, freeing his cock. y/n looked him over for the first time, apparently impressed with him. He was slightly happy about this reaction, but the feeling of being pushed back and y/n taking his tip into her mouth instantly stilled that inner voice. ‘Oh fuck,’ he thought as she swirled her tongue over him in one direction for a bit, and then the other, and finally across the top. This sensation alone was enough to bring some pre-come to the tip. Aaron watched as she sucked it off quickly and then moved back onto him with her mouth. The very sight of her working over him nearly sent Aaron over the edge. His size was impressive and y/n wondered if she would be able to take all of him in her mouth. She worked fervently over him, taking more and more of his length each time she moved her head up and down him. She ran her hands over his balls as she did this, and she could feel him throbbing in her throat. Meanwhile, Aaron’s body was twitching with bliss and anticipation, and he said her name like a prayer as she finally got to the base. She continued to work on him as she sucked and licked his cock. She ran her tongue all the way up the vein running on the underside of him and again, this nearly ended him. This time it was his turn to ask her to stop, which she did. He knew that if he came now in her mouth he might not be able to do it again as intensely as the first time. Could he come again? With her, absolutely, but this was their first time and he wanted to give her his best. Breathlessly he said, “I need to be in you if you’re open to it. Please.” He realized that he was begging, but he couldn’t stop the urgency in his voice.

y/n agreed, at this point their bodies were aching for release and she wanted him in her as badly as he wanted to be in her. She asked, “Can I be on top please?” With some vulnerability, she added, “It’s been a while since I’ve been intimate with anyone.” Hotch nodded, knowing the position would give her more control in regard to the depth and pacing. He said, “Of course. Whatever you want love.” He sat up a bit, leaning back on his palms. As _y/n_ got ready to straddle him again, he asked, “Are you on the pill, or should I get a condom?” He hadn’t made assumptions about her sexual life until recently, and asking something like this felt inappropriate unless in this very situation. y/n smiled and said, “I’m on the pill. We’re good." With this, she got back on her knees with Aaron underneath her. She used her hand to gently guide him into her entrance. She worked slowly at first. Even with just his tip inside her, Aaron had to stop himself from lifting his hips to get further inside of her. However, he kept still and let, y/n slowly take more and more of him inside her. He encouraged her saying, “That’s it y/n, your doing well. You feel so good around me.” She smiled at him and after a few moments, she was mostly seated over him. She was incredibly tight, and he was impressed that she had taken his member in as deeply as she had. There was only a tiny bit of his cock exposed. He felt her walls throb and tighten against him and he had to bite his mouth shut to stifle what he assumed was a scream of pleasure. She leaned down and took his mouth in hers, It was her turn to explore his mouth and he allowed her in easily. She was greedy with her tongue, and her breath was hot in his throat. After she pulled away for breath she assessed her comfort. Any pain that had been there when she was enveloping him had passed and she said needily, “You can move in me, Aaron. Please.”

Aaron moaned again as he followed her command. He shifted his hips up and the feeling of his cock sliding inside her was pure bliss. It was all he had imagined and more. He started slowly, but both of them had waited and built up for the other and it was time to get their reward for their patience. Aaron built up his speed and the stream of half-contained noise that y/n made only had him quickening his pace more. As his thrusts became more urgent he felt a slight sheen of sweat covering them both. He was close, so close and he raced toward the finish. In a final desire to have him closer and deeper in her, y/n placed her full weight on his hips and leaned back, supporting herself on shaking, shuddering arms. The final shift in position allowed him that last bit of room to fully enter her and she moaned out, “Faster Aaron. Please, I’m going to come.” At her words, Aaron placed his hands on her hips, guiding their shared movement. He thrusted even faster and only a few seconds later, y/n came undone. Her body shaked and clenched around him and that was all he needed to find his release. His seed shot out of him hot and fast and he kept thrusting a few times more chasing the high, heady organism she was giving him. They both made ungodly noises as they let go and y/n quite literally collapsed on top of him. He held onto her closely as their shaky breaths intermixed. As Aaron regained his breath, the words came unbidden and he said, “I love you y/n. Oh god, I’ve loved you for so long. I’m sorry it took me this long to say something.” y/n was still shaking with her orgasm, but she managed to strangle out, “I love you too, Aaron. A hundred percent.” Aaron registered her words from a few months ago and he realized that she had been longing for him for that long and that he was a fool for not noticing before.

Aaron was tired, but y/n was completely spent and he was still in her softening from his heightened state. With gentle strength, he grabbed her hips and lifted her off of his body. She made a small protestation at the loss of contact. However, he didn’t have any plans of letting her go soon. He pulled her to his chest and she settled contentedly next to him, her damp skin sticking to his. He was beginning to connect her comments about her scars to his own father's abuse. However, he didn’t have the head space for that rabbit hole right now. But he did say softly, “Do you think it’s fate that we met, y/n?” She chuckled into his chest and replied, “That’s too cliched coming from you Aaron.” He hummed and said, “Maybe, but am I wrong?” The question hung in the air for a minute before y/n said, “Maybe not. All I know is that life can be terrible. God knows we see the worst of it, but at least you're in mine.” At this, y/n settled closer to him; listening to his heartbeat consistently thumping in his chest. Aaron held her a bit closer. He would get up eventually to get her some towels to clean her up, but for now, having her in his arms was all he ever wanted.

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reid-fiction · 4 years

Text

A Progression of Touch

In which Spencer doesn’t like to touch people until you come along and then he can’t help himself

A/N: Look at me, dropping stories like flies. Also, I’ve been staring at this gif for far too long...

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He doesn’t like to touch other people.

He knows it, you know it, the whole F.B.I. knows it. He told you as much the first time he met you by the way he awkwardly refused to shake your hand. Though he compensated with a friendly smile and a wave, you knew you were in for a ride with Dr. Spencer Reid.

It wasn’t that he thought you were diseased. He just knew too much about germs and the human body to risk it, especially around cold and flu season which was exactly when he met you. It was bad enough that Garcia had dragged him to the Christmas party to begin with - there were so many people in close quarters, who knew what viruses were floating around - but he wasn’t a big fan of mingling and small talk either. And that was exactly what Penelope was forcing him into when he got his first glimpse of you.

As soon as you had five minutes with Spencer under your belt, you knew you wanted a lot more time with him. He was unlike any person you had ever met and he fascinated you, especially his aversion to touch.

A few months later, when Spencer finally bit the bullet and asked you on a date (after much prompting and borderline bribery from Garcia and multiple other team members she had coerced into helping her), he knew that his no touching rule was not going to fly for very long. He didn’t know much about relationships, but he did know that physical touch was a pretty important factor to most women. Though you never pushed him, he could tell that you were holding back for his benefit. He could see it in your eyes every time he dropped you off after a date. In most scenarios, a kiss goodnight would be expected - you wanted it, he could sense it - but it felt like you were the wrong side of a magnet that he just couldn’t get himself close to.

This was a problem, because he was falling for you and he was going to have to do something about it.

Spencer knew that going the 0-100 method wasn’t going to work for him. He couldn’t just jump from not touching you at all to getting hot and heavy in the backseat of a car. But, gradual steps may work. If he eased himself in to getting acquainted with touching you, he could both push himself out of his comfort zone and give you a bit of the physical contact that you were clearly craving.

-----

It started with a hug.

One night, after walking you to your front door, you could tell that Spencer was concentrating on something and it wasn’t your current conversation. You were rambling on about some TV program you had seen the other night, and you knew he wasn’t listening to a word you were saying.

“Hey, you okay?”

He glanced up at you, frowning, as if he had just remembered you were standing there.

“Yeah, fine. Why?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged, wrapping your arms around yourself after catching a gust of chilly air. “You just seem...far away. Distracted.”

He paused, pursing his lips at your accusation, and you suddenly felt extremely vulnerable under his gaze.

“Is something wrong? Did I...did I do something? I mean, are you -”

“No!”

The suddenness of his reply caused you to jump, and he let out a nervous chuckle before running a hand through his hair.

“No, it’s not you at all. I’m sorry, you’re right. I am distracted.”

“Well...about what? Maybe I can help.”

He paused again, and then smiled. “Yeah, maybe you can. Would you be able to just...stand still for a second?”

The strange nature of his request caused you to frown a bit, but you simply nodded and watched him with curiosity. A few seconds later, he slowly started to to move a few steps closer and raise his arms slightly. You had absolutely no idea what he was doing, but you didn’t move a muscle. His arms eventually found their way to rest lightly on the sides of you waist and then started to wrap around your torso.

Your stomach instantly flipped. This was the first time Spencer had ever touched you beyond the occasional brush of your shoulders when you moved past him, or a playful kick to his leg when he beat you at chess. It had been two months of weekly dates, dinners, museum trips and evenings of sitting and talking until you were both too tired to form coherent sentences but, as much as you loved those times with him, you’d by lying if you said you never wished that he would throw caution to the wind once in a while and toss an arm around you or caress the side of your face with his fingers.

Now, just the feeling of his hands on your back was like opening up a can of worms that had been wriggling in desperation for weeks, and you certainly hoped that this wasn’t a one time thing, because there was no way you’d ever be able to put those worms back in the can after this.

He took another step toward you and circled his arms tighter around your back. You knew he had asked you not to move, but you couldn’t hold back any longer. You slowly raised your own arms until they were resting on his shoulders and then, when he didn’t protest, you wrapped them around his neck and leaned in until your head was nestled just below his collarbone. He tensed up only a moment before you felt him lean his head in the crook of your neck.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, holding each other. It could have been a few minutes, it could have been a few hours. You didn’t care, all that you knew was that you never wanted him to let go.

-----

After the hug, his next target were your hands.

Although Spencer was keenly aware of just how many germs the human hand picked up throughout the day, he was determined to overcome his aversion. You were clean and had good hygiene habits, he knew that. He had been hugging you every time he saw you since that first night, how much more difficult could holding your hand be?

It was during a movie he wasn’t really paying attention to that he finally made his move. Lately, his go-to move during movies was to carefully put his arm around you and rest his hand on your shoulder. He was completely comfortable with that movement now and really thought nothing of it anymore. He could tell that you enjoyed it as well, so he was more than happy to oblige you and suggest a movie night as often as possible.

Tonight, however, he had different ideas. He purposely kept his arm at his side for the first half of the film, and he knew that you noticed. Truthfully, you had come to expect the motion now and were slightly disappointed when it didn’t happen as soon as the opening credits started to roll, but it wasn’t long until you figured out why.

You thought it was an accident at first. You had both of your hands resting in your lap and had your eyes focused on the movie when you felt it. The lightest, softest brush of skin against your own. Your hand twitched involuntarily and you silently cursed yourself for probably scaring him away. But, a minute or so later, it happened again. Still soft, still tentative, but it lingered.

You stealthily flicked your gaze down to your lap and saw Spencer’s hand hovering just slightly over your own. You weren’t entirely sure what he was aiming for, but you kept your hand deathly still while you waited. His hand finally came to rest on your thigh and the side of his palm rested lightly against your own. You watched as his pinkie brushed up over the back of your hand, then another finger, and another, and another, until his whole hand was on top of yours. You opened the spaces between your fingers in hopes that he would lace his own through, and you weren’t disappointed. His fingers slid between yours like butter and you felt him squeeze your palm and slowly caress the back of your hand with his thumb.

It was your idea to shuffle closer to him, lift his arm with your hands still intertwined, and loop it over your shoulder. He glanced over to you, smiled, and squeezed your hand again.

You wished you had picked a longer movie. Truthfully, so did he.

-----

The idea of kissing you was terrifying.

Spencer had kissed and been kissed before, but it wasn’t a common occurrence and it hadn’t ever been with someone he truly cared about. It was one thing for two body parts to come together in what science called a kiss, it was a whole other thing for that kiss to mean something. The last thing Spencer wanted was for him to screw up a potentially important moment in your relationship because he was hesitant or overly paranoid.

He also had no idea how to know when the “right” moment was, if there was such a thing. Hugging was easy now, holding your hand was routine - he could do those at really any time, in any location, in any circumstance, and it wouldn’t be considered awkward or weird - but kissing was different. It was intimate, it was private, and it required more thought.

It had taken him weeks, but he finally had a plan in mind. It was elaborate and detailed - as most of Spencer’s ideas were - and he knew exactly what he was going to say and do leading up to the moment.

However, what he wasn’t betting on was the sudden, overwhelming, spontaneous desire that came over him one evening while you were sitting in his apartment. You hadn’t been doing anything out of the ordinary; you had gone out to dinner, walked back to his place, and had plans to spend the rest of the night talking, maybe doing a puzzle or playing a game, and then you would go home like you always did.

But it was something about the way you laughed after he told you a funny story that happened at work that day. It was the way your eyes locked on his every time he spoke, and the way you looked so intensely interested in every single thing he was saying, even if you didn’t understand all of it. It was the way you leaned into him when he pointed out something in a book he was holding, and the way he could smell your shampoo - vanilla with a hint of lavender - when you got close to him. It was the way your hand rested lovingly on his back while he read a passage to you and the way you absentmindedly twirled your hair as you listened.

He needed to kiss you, and he needed to do it immediately.

He didn’t care that it didn’t fit into his plan, he didn’t care that it wasn’t exactly what he pictured, and he didn’t care that he hadn’t prepared himself for it. The only thing he could think of was the shape of your lips and his intense need to know what they felt like on his own.

So, he went for it.

It wasn’t slow, it wasn’t subtle, and it was probably the messiest thing he had ever done. He put the book down on the table, looked over at you, grabbed the sides of your face and pulled you to him. You were initially frozen in shock - the last thing you had expected that night was for Spencer to kiss you, let alone like this - but you could feel the intensity and desperation as his lips moved over yours, and that was enough to thaw your surprise and trigger your response instinct. You put one hand behind his head and pulled him impossibly closer to you, scooting to the very edge of your seat.

His hands dropped from your face and landed on the tops of your thighs before he slid them up to your waist and you could feel him start to tug you closer. There was nowhere for you to go other than practically on top of him, and you knew there was no way he wanted you to do that.

Was there?

As much as it pained you to do so, you momentarily broke the kiss to catch your breath.

“Wow.”

Spencer chuckled, still gripping your waist.

“Sorry,” he said, “I guess I just...couldn’t wait anymore.”

“Oh, don’t apologize!” you said, a little too enthusiastically. “It was great, and I wouldn’t have stopped you, it’s just...”

Spencer studied you, and brought one hand up to the side of your face again.

“Just, what?”

“It’s nothing, I guess I just wondered - I mean, I wasn’t sure how far you wanted to...you know...go. I don’t want you to feel like you need to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Spencer smiled, and you felt him tug you closer again. You gave him a questioning look, and he nodded.

“C’mere,” he said. “It’s okay.”

You tentatively stood and took a step closer to him before he gently guided you down until you were straddling his lap. You exhaled a breath of nerves as you seated yourself and brought your hands up to rest on his shoulders.

“You don’t need to worry,” he said. “I’m not going to push things any further tonight. But, right now, I would really like to keep kissing you. It’ll help me get comfortable with it. Repetition of an action you’re uncomfortable with is proven to retrain your mind in how you view the action.”

You grinned. “Is that the only reason you’d like to keep kissing me? To prove a scientific fact?”

“It’s more like a psychological fact. You see, in moments of intense satisfaction or pleasure, the brain releases something called dopamine which causes -”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish before you leaned in and kissed him again.

The psychological facts could wait.

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

#spencer reid #fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #fluff

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football-writing · 3 years

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Ben Chilwell - insufferable

Prompt: "I'd rather argue with you, than kiss someone else." "You can't deny what's between us. We're perfect for each other."

Summary: Ben and Y/N are neighbours. They also seem to argue just about all the time.

Warnings: a little neighbour enemies to lovers something, a LOT of sexual innuendos, some curse words

"Ben, move." Her voice was stern, as annoyed with him as ever as he blocked the way to her door.

"C'mon, Y/N. I just wanna talk."

"You kept me up all night practising that goddamned piano with your stupid windows open. No, I will not talk to you. Now, move." She was getting agitated with him, foot tapping on the pavement as she wished for him to hurry up.

"You listen to me playing piano? How sweet. It's almost like I'm serenading you, isn't it?" He knew exactly what he was doing. How to rile her up and push her buttons. It's not something he had meant to happen - he'd obviously rather get along with his neighbour. But the way she puffed her cheeks, the intensity with which she looked at him as she got more and more annoyed made his belly erupt with butterflies.

"Get fucked, Ben." Was her only reply as she pushed his chest to get to her door, Ben gladly taking a step aside with his arms up in surrender and a shit-eating grin on his face. God how she wished she could wipe it off of him.

"Sure. You free tonight?"

She'd opened the door then, stepped inside and smacked it straight in the poor boy's face.

He wondered if the sexual comment was perhaps taking it a bit too far - knowing she didn't mean it like that at all. He wondered if he should knock on her door to apologise, too. But just then, her frontdoor opened again.

"And by the way, the piano sounds absolutely horrendous." Smack. She immediately closed the door again.

He let out a boisterous laugh, then. Her antics were just so cute.

"Can't get better if you don't practice." He yelled through the closed door.

"Leave me alone, Ben. I'll call the cops for stalking." Her muffled voice sounded right back, but he could tell even then that she was saying it with a smile.

"Alright, alright. Party at my place tonight. Join if you wanna." He called out before finally leaving her be.

She'd contemplated going, she really had. She wasn't that interested in spending the night at Ben's house, particularly because if his friends were anywhere similar to him, she'd be in for a hell of a night. But then again, she didn't have much else to do, and she could use a good distraction.

So there she was, knocking on his door on what she considered an appropriate time to arrive after the party had started. Perhaps she had peaked out the window to know when his friends arrived, coming half an hour later just to make him sweat as to whether or not she'd take him up on his offer.

"Ah, the queen herself made it." Ben said as soon as he opened the door, taking notice of the outfit she'd picked out. It was casual, but god, did it look good on her. He licked his lips before moving aside to let her in.

"Welcome to my humble abode, darling." He said as he trailed after her through his hall.

"Don't stare at my ass, Ben." She didn't even have to look back to know why he wanted her to walk in first.

"Too late."

She only chuckled as she walked into his living room. People were scattered around, some guys playing Fifa on his tv, others chatting amongst themselves and dancing to the beat of some random pop song. She wasn't entirely sure where to go, or who to speak to, as seemingly everyone was preoccupied with whatever they were doing.

Ben noticed, and placed his hand firmly on her lower back. She twisted her face to look at him, an uncertain look in her eyes, though she didn't swat his hand away.

He nodded for her to move towards the kitchen, his hand staying pressed against the small of her back to guide her.

The kitchen was a little quieter, and she rubbed her sweaty hands against her thighs as Ben got her a drink.

"I knew you wouldn't pass up an opportunity to spend time with me." He mentioned cockily as he handed her a red cup. Though the gesture was sweet, the words accompanying them made her want to roll her eyes. Were all footballers this annoying?

"Actually, just here for the free drinks." She replied as she lifted her cup.

Silence fell between them as she took small sips of her drink. She wasn't quite sure what she expected, but for him to keep standing next to her definitely wasn't it. Eyeing the people in the livingroom didn't lessen her confusion. He'd invited some girls over, dressed in tight dresses to show of their perfect figures. Why had he invited her? To stop from complaining about the noise?

"Are you not going to chat up those girls?" She questioned as she nodded her head in their general direction, not making any eyecontact with the boy next to her.

"Why, you got some sort of voyeurism kink?"

"Hm. Could probably give you some pointers. You don't look like you're very good at flirting." She replied nonchalantly, though her eyebrows raised at his bold remark.

"They're actually my friends' girlfriends." He explained truthfully. It was the first time she looked up at him during their little bickering. He was focused on drawing patterns with his finger on the counter behind them, which meant she could truly observe him.

He's not unattractive at all. His long hair messily falling over his forehead, his strong jawline still visible under his neatly kept beard. She wondered what his body looked like underneath his clothes. He'd always looked quite fit to her, something she'd attributed to his strict workout routine as a footballer. Still, his arms were muscular too, biceps twisting and veins twirling underneath his skin as he kept drawing invisible shapes on the counter surface. She just wanted to reach out and caress his biceps, the unholy thoughts filling her mind as she kept eyeing him from beside him. If he wasn't such an ass, maybe she would've wanted to pursue something with him. Maybe.

"You admiring the art, babe?" He questioned as if on cue, stilling his movements to look at her with a curious smile on his stupidly pretty face.

"God, you're so fucking full of yourself." She spat back as she rolled her eyes in annoyance, turning her focus away from him. He started to lean closer to her side, his arm snaking around her as his scruff teasingly rubbed against her cheek.

"You love it, really." He whispered lowly in her ear. The drop in his voice made her shiver, clenching her legs together. She cursed herself for letting him have this kind of effect on her, and so she composed herself as she took a tentative step away from him.

"I don't. But I'd love if you went to bother those girls instead. Maybe I can have some fun watching you flirt." She held her fingers up, moving them to indicate quotation marks at the last word as she threw him a fake smile.

"I'd rather argue with you, than kiss someone else." He replied matter-of-factly.

"Really, now?" She perked.

"Yeah." His voice sounder hoarse and rough, no effort in concealing the feelings currently coarsing through him. He raised his bottle of beer to take a sip, licking his lips before wrapping them around the bottle. She had a perfect view from beside him, seeing his adam's apple bop as he swallowed, the light perfectly illuminating his plump and moist lips that turned into a smirk as soon as he set the bottle down again. He knew exactly what he was doing to her. Unfortunately for him, she could play that game, too.

So she took a daring step closer to him, resting her hand on his bicep that was definitely more defined than she previously imagined. She stood on her toes, reaching to whisper in his ear, her lips 'accidentally' grazing over his earlobe.

"Your little teasing makes me think youd rather kiss me too." She whispered seductively.

He didn't even reply, just grabbed her face to pull her into a kiss. He wouldn't have even thought of doing that half an hour ago, but now that she was teasing him, too, he figured it's what she wanted as well. Which is why he was so shocked when she pushed at his chest, her brows furrowed as her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Gross, Ben, have some decency." She scolded him. Truth is, she was much too aware of the other people in the room, not sure what they would make of their little predicament. Besides, if he started kissing her now, she wasn't so sure she could contain herself any longer. What's this boy done to you?

"C'mon, you can't deny what's between us. We're perfect for each other." He tried to reason with her, reaching out for her hands that she quickly moved out of reach from him. Was he really this oblivious, or was she just playing with him?

"I can actually." She smiled triumphantly at him as she pushed herself away from the counter. "And I don't believe in perfect."

"Y/N." He warned.

"Benjamin." She daringly spoke back, biting her bottom lip as she looked up at him through her eyelashes. So, playing, then.

"You're insufferable."

"So are you." She said as she walked away from him, back to the hallway and opening his frontdoor, he was calling out after her, wondering if he really fucked up for her to be leaving now. She turned on her heel just as she stepped outside, looking right back at him with fiery eyes. He leaned against the doorway to look at her. He wasn't sure he trusted his legs to hold him up when she was looking at him like that.

"I don't kiss before the first date." He smiled at that. If he wasn't intrigued by her quick comebacks and arguing, he sure was now. She was playing his game, and she was winning, too. Though he tried his hardest not to show her.

"So go on a date with me." He deadpanned as he nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders.

"Actually, I don't date footballers."

"Fuck you." He let out a laugh, then. One that vibrated throughout his chest.

"Maybe if you ask nicely." She added as she beamed at him, throwing him a wink. He tried to think of something to say, anything. But he was left a stammering mess, eyes wide at her explicit remark as she spun around and started walking the short distance back to hers. She had just swiftly shut him up, something not many people had the gift of doing. He was glad she didn't spare him another glance, because he was sure the angelic laugh that would erupt from her lips would cause his crimson cheeks to burn even harder. Damn him and his stupid games.

Damn her and her ability to see right through them.

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell fanfic #ben chilwell oneshot #ben chilwell imagine

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creweemmaeec11 · 3 years

Text

The Little Things

Inspired by @literally-just-kirby’s prompt of a villain who has super cute mundane uses for their powers, and the hero slowly falls for the villains harmless civilian side.

I know they were supposed to be small things, but, I had this idea, and it was just so cute I had to write it. I hope you enjoy it anyway and I did your prompt justice!

For a villain with so many different superpowers, they sure didn't use them how the hero would have expected.

In fact, while the villain would use their powers whenever they fought, the hero soon discovered they also used them for more... little things.

The hero first noticed the weird phenomenon when they were attempting to follow the villain back to their lair. The villain had just turned down a dark ally when out of nowhere, a small stray kitten appeared from behind a nearby dumpster.

The hero admittedly panicked a bit at first when the kitten walked up to the villain, expecting them to kick it away or something. Instead, the villain bent down, petting its head and apologizing for not having any food. When the villain stood back up, they seemed to examine the kitten for a moment before their eyes suddenly turned red.

The hero nearly leapt out of their hiding spot, willing to blow their cover when they thought the villain was about to use laser vision to turn the poor creature to ash. But yet again, the villain did nothing of the sort.

Instead, they had somehow managed to dial the intensity of their ordinarily devastating laser eyes down, and was using them to project a small red dot onto the pavement below, which the kitten immediately began chasing.

Was the hero seeing this right?

The villain that just robbed the bank on main street was using their laser vision as a laser pointer to play with a stray kitten.

The hero was so stunned by the event that when they finally blinked back into reality, both the villain and kitten were nowhere to be seen.

----------

The next time, the hero successfully managed to follow the villain home, but instead of a dark, dank lair like they expected, it was actually a small, pretty cozy looking apartment complex.

The hero was perched across the street on the roof, using binoculars to spy on the villain, determined to catch them in the act of something villainous.

The first thing the hero noticed was the kitten from the alley was in the apartment! Instead of being hooked up to some torture device or the victim of some horrible science experiment, it was curled up in the villain's lap, purring happily while they watched TV.

The villain in question was sipping their coffee, illuminated by the glow of the tv. The hero watched the villain wave their hand, and using their telekinesis, put a bag of popcorn into the microwave. Once it was done, they poured the popcorn into a bowl, and had it float over to them.

The hero stopped watching after that, convinced they weren't going to see anything villainous tonight.

The next night, the hero witnessed something much more interesting, though not in the way they had expected.

The villain was out on their balcony painting what looked like a forest scene on a canvas. What was interesting was they only had black and white paint with them, yet their picture was vibrant. The hero very quickly realized they were using their colour manipulation powers to change the paint to the exact colour they wanted.

The hero's head was spinning. The villain had so many powers, so many that neither the hero nor the authorities knew all of them because the villain didn't tend to use them in fights. How was this the same villain who was using these powers for the cutest, most mundane things?

The hero caught themselves blushing.

They shook their head, struggling to get their thoughts together. Which side was the real one? This harmless adorable side or the villainous bank-robbing side?

Before the hero had time to work it out, they saw the villain slip on their coat and, presumably using their telekinesis on themselves, jumped off the railing of their balcony and up onto an adjacent rooftop. As soon as they landed, they were off, running along and jumping from roof to roof as they went. Immediately, the hero took off after them, making sure not to be seen while they followed.

Soon after, the villain landed on a flat roof next to the city's children's hospital.

Okay, this would definitely settle the debate. No matter how mundane they were day to day, if they robbed a children's hospital-

The hero's thoughts were cut off as the villain simply sat down on the roof and pulled out their cell phone.

Now, eavesdropping wasn't very heroic, but if they were eavesdropping on a villain, surely the hero could get away with it?

"Hey, you! How are you feeling?" The villain asked to whoever was on the other end of the phone,

....

"That's good. Have the doctors found anything else?"

....

"... I see. Well, Christmas is coming up soon! Have you thought about what to ask Santa for?"

....

"I'm sure that's something Santa can do, and don't worry, I'm sure snow will start falling soon enough, and we'll have a white Christmas after all. Actually... I have to run, but you should look out your window..."

Suddenly the villain hung up on whoever they were talking to and looked up at the sky. The hero watched wide-eyed as clouds began appearing out of nowhere, swirling around above the hospital. Just as quickly, small snowflakes started falling around the building.

In the distance, the hero could make out several small shapes appearing in the many windows throughout the hospital. They could see the little smiles and some frantic jumping as more and more little heads became illuminated in windows around the complex.

The hero felt their heart fluttering because that had to be one of the cutest things they'd ever seen.

The next day, the 'freak snowstorm above children's hospital' was the headline everywhere.

The days flew by, and the hero was witness to more and more events. They had seen the villain levitate something down off a tall shelf, summon a tiny raincloud to water a dry plant and even use their colour manipulation to change the colour and pattern of their wallpaper three times.

However, it wasn't until Christmas eve that the hero realized just how swept off their feet they were.

The hero had gotten a tip, someone calling the station to say they had spotted the villain near the children's hospital. Based on the fact nobody other than the hero knew the villain's true identity, they must have been in their costume.

It took the hero a couple of minutes, but they finally found the villain tucked behind a dozen boxes and a couple of dumpsters in the back of the hospital. The hero hid behind one, watching.

The villain was walking in tight circles, hands shaking nervously as they seemed to be giving themselves a pep talk.

"I can do this, I can do this," They muttered under their breath quietly, shakily, "I promised. I promised her she'd see proof of real magic on Christmas eve. I do this all the time. Just because this is a bigger canvas doesn't mean anything. I can totally do this,"

The villain stopped, and suddenly their eyes began glowing brightly.

The way powers worked, was that the better you were at using them, and the less energy you were using, the less your eyes glowed. This villain could change their entire wallpaper without their eyes glowing, so whatever they were about to do, they were summoning a lot of power to do so.

The villain raised their hand shakily, energy swirling around it as they reached out toward the brick wall of the hospital. They hesitated, taking a deep breath before closing their eyes and placing their hand firmly on the wall.

Suddenly, it was as if the entire building came to life. Dull red bricks turned into a swirl of psychedelic colours and shapes. If this was what the outside of the hospital looked like, the hero could only imagine what the walls inside looked like.

They continued watching, completely baffled as cartoon characters sprung to life, running across the walls. They watched flowers bloom and explode in a burst of colours as dragons and fairies flew by. Castles grew and faded while giants clashed swords. The iron collided, only to explode into another puff of colour and new characters, running and smiling as they went.

It was like watching what would happen if a child's imagination exploded onto a wall, and it was incredible.

Using their super hearing, the hero could hear all the gasps, giggles and cheers from inside.

Suddenly the ever-moving and ever-changing images flickered, and the hero glanced over at the villain, whose eyes were still pinned shut, though their face had turned into a grimace.

The show continued for another almost full thirty seconds, before everything finally faded out. The villain gasped, struggling to catch their breath, wobbling on their feet as they pulled their hand back away from the wall. They swayed again, until they just gave in, falling against the brick wall and sliding down to sit against it clumsily.

"Hey, take it easy," The hero said, slipping out of their hiding spot.

The villain's eyes widened in panic, "Don't- don't- I haven't," they stuttered in between breaths.

"I know, it's okay, I'm not here to arrest you; just relax,"

The villain continued staring, looking the hero up and down for a moment, before realizing they didn't have any other choice but to believe the hero. Their posture relaxed, looking away.

"That was, I mean, I don't even have words..."

"It's nothing," The villain grumbled, "Do it all the time,"

"Oh, I know," The hero replied casually, leaning against a nearby stack of crates, "You've changed your wallpaper three times this week,"

The villain's head snapped to look at the hero in shock, "how... how do you..."

"You did rob a bank," the hero replied, giving a small amused smirk, "I know your new to this but, you must have expected we would at least monitor you?"

The villain just continued staring, speechless.

"How the kitten?" the hero asked, "Have you decided on a name? They must be better off with you than they were in that ally at least,"

Somehow, the villain's eyes widened even more, though a light blush dusted their cheeks.

"I saw you in the ally," The hero explained, a small smile on their face, "By the way, that has to be the cutest use for laser vision I've ever seen,"

The villain's face immediately lit up like a fire truck, causing the hero to laughing.

"Honestly," they continued, "You have the cutest, most mundane uses for all your powers. Stormcloud to water plants? I mean, where did you even come up with that one?"

The villain opened their mouth to reply but winced, and a hand flew up to their forehead.

"You really overdid yourself that time, huh?"

The villain's eyes snapped open, the hero's voice coming from much closer. Sure enough, the hero was crouched next to them, concern was written across their face.

"m-maybe" the villain admitted, before everything went black.

When the villain woke up, they heard the usual sound of purring from their chest. They opened their eyes to find themselves in their apartment, tucked into bed. A note on the nearby lampshade hung above a plate with a slice of toast and a glass of water.

*I'll see you again soon, get some rest, -hero*

PART TWO

#hero x villain #villain x hero #heros and villains #heroes and villains #hero x villain snippet #snippet #snippet writing #writing #writers on tumblr

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bbangsoonie · 3 years

Text

just u

member: sunwoo genre: fluff word count: 1,903 synopsis: sunwoo thinks you’re a flirty drunk but doesn’t notice you only flirt with him.

a/n: oc’s facial flush after drinking alcohol is mentioned once in the fic

Eric: giant sleepover at hyunjae’s tonight

Hyunjae: this is news to me ??

Eric: be prepared to pull an all-nighter because we are doing everything from watching movies to playing games to ✨drinking✨

Sangyeon: his house is also my house ???

Eric: y/n, can you pick up some snacks and drinks with sunwoo?

You: sure

Sunwoo: this is news to me as well ?

Eric: see you all at 6! i know no one has classes today and tomorrow’s saturday so i expect full attendance :)

Juyeon: again, our house is not just solely hyunjae’s ???? younghoon and i live here as well ;-;

Eric’s impromptu gathering was in no way organized but he knew everyone would go along with it. Your group of friends consisted of the most spontaneous people you’ve ever met. They were always down for anything, anytime.

That was how you ended up going grocery shopping with Sunwoo and Haknyeon after you stopped by campus for your professor’s office hours. You ran into Haknyeon there who wanted to tag along to make sure you bought his favorite snacks.

“Any requests for chasers?” you called out to the boys who were an aisle away. You scanned the shelves of sodas in front of you, trying to recall who liked what drinks.

“Chasers are for babies,” Haknyeon scoffed as he made his way over to you.

“I’m baby,” you proudly pointed at yourself.

“Are you referring to the Kirby meme right now?” he blinked. When you nodded, he pretended to gag, making you slap his back.

“Do you guys think this is enough alcohol?” Sunwoo arrived with a cart full of bottles. You almost laughed at the amount of cases. Anyone passing by would think you were shopping wholesale. Which honestly didn’t sound like a bad idea for a group of 12.

“Should be,” Haknyeon shrugged, taking over the cart. “Now time for the good stuff!”

You and Sunwoo watched as he threw in bags of chips and jelly into the cart. You only picked out one or two for yourself since Haknyeon was essentially just getting everything. There was a wide variety for you to choose from anyway. Sunwoo had to physically stop him from adding more stuff, insisting that there’d be dinner as well.

With Hyunjae in charge of ordering food, it was no surprise that you walked into his house smelling like chicken. Eric greeted you from the kitchen and you hollered out a “hey” before joining Changmin and Chanhee in the living room. They were in the middle of an intense round of Super Smash Bros and by the looks of it, Changmin was winning. When the game finally ended, Changmin shrieked with laughter while Chanhee dejectedly collapsed onto the sofa.

Jacob and Kevin walked in not long after, exchanging greetings with everyone else. Sangyeon, Juyeon, and Younghoon emerged from the staircase after finishing their assignments upstairs in their own respective rooms. With the whole group together, Eric gathered you all in front of the TV to have a Super Smash Bros tournament.

“Only people who suck at playing games pick Kirby,” he yelled as you picked up a controller.

“I do admit I suck at games and love Kirby,” you stuck your tongue out as you chose your character, making Chanhee groan.

“All you do is spam down b!” Kevin whined.

“Well no one wants to teach me other moves or how to play other characters,” you shrugged.

“I tried,” Hyunjae sighed. “You’re an impossible student.”

“That’s because everyone kills me off while I try to learn!” you huffed.

To your amusement, you won the game by avoiding everyone in the air while they battled amongst themselves. Then you constantly attacked Younghoon with the same move until he eventually died. He screamed in frustration when your victory flashed across the screen.

Unfortunately for you, everyone decided to target you in the beginning for the next round. After easily finishing you off, they enjoyed what they called a “true fight” that Eric ultimately won.

The long night officially began with the mountain of boxes of chicken in the kitchen. It was easily demolished before Changmin won rock, paper, scissors to put a horror movie on. Before the film was even chosen, Sunwoo was complaining about how he hated jump scares.

“Bro just say you’re afraid and move on,” Eric snickered.

“I’m not scared! I just don’t like being surprised,” Sunwoo insisted.

“Pft, if you’re a true man you can watch it,” Chanhee teased, unaware of his embarrassment to come.

The next couple of hours was chaotic. Chanhee screamed at every noise, making everyone else scream as well. Haknyeon and Sunwoo ended up watching the movie with their ears closed and Jacob gave up entirely by trying to nap instead. You had the unfortunate seat next to Younghoon and became his ragdoll that he clung onto and shook every time he got frightened. You didn’t even get to react to the movie because he kept screaming and grabbing onto you.

Eric and his mischievous instincts spent the whole time trying to startle Juyeon who ended up chasing him around until he promised to stop. Changmin, Sangyeon, Hyunjae, and Kevin were the only ones who truly enjoyed the movie.

When the lights came back on, Chanhee and Sunwoo pretended that it wasn’t scary at all. Hyunjae laughed, reminding them of their reactions to which they feigned oblivion to.

“I need a drink,” you groaned. “Younghoon stressed me out more than the ghost did.”

“Everyone go slow and steady,” Eric warned. “I want to be playing until the sun comes up.”

“My body is too old for this,” Sangyeon mumbled as he began taking the alcohol out of the fridge.

“Hey, Y/n, can you pass me a bottle?” Sunwoo asked. You felt your heart skip a beat when his fingers brushed past yours to take the drink from your hands. The exchange made you blush and you quickly took a shot to mask your tinted cheeks with the flush of the liquor.

Spending the night with your friends meant that you would be spending it trying hard to not fall in love with your budding crush. You tried your best to keep a safe distance from him, relying on Chanhee to be your trusty barrier.

After a series of drinking games (that mostly resulted in your loss), you were beginning to feel the effects. With Chanhee and Haknyeon by your side, you were slightly swinging in your seat. You were all sitting on the floor in the spacious living room to start whatever game Hyunjae had suggested. His words had gone in and out of your ears while you were finishing your last punishment drink.

“So basically one person will ask another person a question and that person will say their answer out loud. The answer has to be the name of someone in this room. Those who are curious about the question will drink to hear it,” Hyunjae explained.

“Can I go first?” Kevin excitedly asked. With the majority agreeing, he happily went up to Jacob to whisper in his ear.

After hearing his question, Jacob thought for a second before saying your name. The boys teasingly “ooh”ed, making you roll your eyes. Sunwoo, Eric, and Changmin were the only ones curious enough to drink for the answer.

“Aw, Y/n, you don’t wanna know why he picked you?” Kevin pouted.

“By the look on your face, I think I get the gist,” you chuckled. “Any questions involving girls only leaves me as an option. And to be brutally honest, I don’t really care what he thinks of me.”

Jacob, faking pain, clutched his heart.

“Ouch,” he joked.

Jacob asked his question to Younghoon, who answered with your name again. This time, you were slightly intrigued.

“Me again for the second time in a row? Now I’m kinda curious,” you pretended to think hard.

Eric drank again and eagerly asked for Jacob’s question. Trying to elicit a response from you, he acted shocked and grabbed Younghoon by the collar. Laughing, you gave in and drank to hear the question.

“He thinks you’re gonna be the first to get cuffed,” Jacob whispered to you.

“Ah, unfortunately no,” you shook your head at Younghoon, sitting back down.

This time, Younghoon asked you a question. He asked who you would date if you had to choose from the friend group.

“Sunwoo,” you said almost immediately. His jaw dropped at how fast you made your decision and he gave you a smug look.

Again, Eric couldn’t hide his curiosity. His reaction made the rest of them interested and everyone ended up drinking to find out what Younghoon had asked you. Hyunjae hooted but the alcohol in your system left you unphased by all their teasing.

After their excitement died down, the game continued until each person had a turn. It ended with Eric drunk crying thanks to Juyeon picking him as his most cherished friend. Seeing him cry made Sunwoo cry as well and Changmin was having a blast laughing at them both.

Not wanting Sunwoo to also turn into a crying drunk, Sangyeon took his cup away from him. He reminded him to keep his pace, prompting him to sulk. As soon as Sangyeon looked away, however, Sunwoo stole it back and downed the rest of his drink.

“Sunwoo, no,” Sangyeon groaned.

“Sunwoo yes!” Sunwoo exclaimed with glee.

The group then split off into subgroups to take a break from drinking. You, Younghoon, Juyeon, Changmin, Sunwoo, and Eric propped a phone up to make TikToks together. Meanwhile, the rest of the boys were just chilling on the couch, laughing as they watched you embarrass yourselves.

Subconsciously, you ended up with your arm wrapped around Sunwoo’s neck for most of the stupid 15 second video. You honestly weren’t sure what you were filming or why you were so close to your crush but you were having too much fun to care.

Chanhee, on the other hand, definitely noticed. He smirked as you rested your head on Sunwoo’s lap and Sunwoo’s face reddened. He nudged Jacob to point it out and made fun of how oblivious you two were.

Before reconvening, you stepped outside to get some fresh air. When you didn’t return after 10 minutes, Sunwoo was sent to retrieve you. You lit up seeing him join you on the veranda and beckoned for him to sit down next to you.

“It’s cold out here,” he said. “Let’s go back in.”

“So then you should hold my hand to keep me warm,” you giggled, holding out your hand.

“You’re drunk,” he commented as he raised an eyebrow.

“Drunk on you,” you winked, making him shyly look away. He cleared his throat to rid himself of the awkward tension between you.

“You know, you’re a flirty drunk,” he mused.

“Only to you,” you shrugged. “Haven’t you ever heard of drunk actions reflecting sober thoughts?”

Taken aback, he stared at you in silence. You pouted at his lack of response and got up to go back inside. Before you could open the door, he finally spoke up.

“I’ll think about it if your sober actions reflect your drunk thoughts,” he said.

“Really?” you beamed.

“As long as your drunk self is only flirty with me,” he teased.

“Oh please, have you ever seen me like this with the other guys?” you laughed. “I only like you. Just you.”

#the boyz #sunwoo #the boyz sunwoo #the boyz fluff #sunwoo fluff #the boyz sunwoo fluff #tbz fluff #tbz sunwoo #the boyz fic #the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #sunwoo fic #sunwoo scenarios #sunwoo imagines #tbz fic #tbz scenarios #tbz imagines

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set-phasers-to-whump · 3 years

Text

sticks and stones may break my bones but...

prompt: “who did this to you?”

whumpee: nick burkhardt

fandom: grimm

hi here is my second nick fic of the month, this one is hopefully better than the first lol. it’s set well before the show starts, when nick is still very new to being a detective and has fairly recently met hank. i hope you enjoy!

Nick is in the middle of digging through his freezer for something suitable to use as an icepack when there’s a knock at the door. He startles, bangs his head against the freezer door, slams it shut like it’s done him a personal wrong, and trudges to the door, silently cursing whoever is on the other side.

He looks through the peephole, ready to call out that he’s not interested in whatever product or ideology is being peddled, but is cut short by the sight of a familiar face - Hank.

He opens the door, tilting the left side of his face away so it won’t be directly in Hank’s line of sight.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asks.

Hank shrugs. “You said you didn’t have anything to do tonight,” he explains. “I don’t either, and there’s a Timbers game at 7. Figured we could watch together. I brought food,” he offers, holding up a paper bag.

That’s...actually really nice. If this were any other night, Nick would’ve accepted enthusiastically, but as it is, he just says, “sure,” and opens the door wider, gesturing for Hank to come in.

They quickly settle onto the couch, Nick making sure to stay on Hank’s left side, carefully resting his chin on his hand to cover as much of the bruising and scrapes on his face as he possibly can.

For the first half, everything is fine. Nick has a headache, but it’s not too bad as long as he doesn’t stare too intently at the TV. Hank’s snacks are good, the conversation is sparse and easy, and Portland is ahead with one goal.

At half time, Hank asks where the bathroom is, and when he comes back Nick has leaned his head back against the top of the couch cushion, eyes closed, trying to ignore the way the left side of his face is aching.

“Hey,” Hank says, and Nick startles for the second time that night. He quickly repositions his head, tilting his face down in the hopes of hiding his injuries, but Hank is too observant for that.

“What happened to you?” he asks, and Nick brushes him off.

“It’s nothing.”

Hank’s fingers touch the underside of Nick’s chin, lifting his face. Nick doesn’t bother to try and fight him off - he knows he’s not going to win. Hank looks concerned, which Nick supposes is fair. He knows how he looks. Black eye, scrapes, a bruise on his jaw. Nothing very pleasant to see.

“This isn’t nothing,” Hank says, fingertips ghosting over the bruising on Nick’s skin. “Who did this to you?”

Nick shakes his head, forces himself to lean away from the touch. He’s not going to tell Hank what happened. He himself is not even completely sure what had happened, to be honest.

Hank looks irritated, but doesn’t push. He just stands up, sticking out his hand in a silent invitation. Nick takes it, lets himself get pulled to his feet.

“I assume you have some kind of first-aid kit?”

He nods. “Under the bathroom sink.”

Hank disappears, and a second later reappears with the first-aid kit in his hands. “You got somewhere with decent lighting?”

They end up in his kitchen, sitting at a small table pushed against the wall. Hank has dragged his chair around the table so the two of them are sitting less than a foot apart, which Nick thinks should probably feel more awkward than it does.

Hank does what Nick would have been doing by himself tonight. He cleans out the shallow scrapes on Nick’s face with a stinging antibacterial spray, presses a bandage to the one that Nick knows is a bit deeper and wider than the others. He manages to locate a soft ice pack in the far recesses of Nick’s freezer, and Nick holds it against his face, propping his elbow on the table and leaning into the cold material.

“What happened?” Hank asks, placing an ibuprofen into Nick’s unoccupied hand. Nick glares at it, then at Hank, who just stares back with a very unimpressed look on his face.

“It’s nothing,” Nick repeats, swallowing the pill so he’ll have an excuse to not say anything else.

“It’s not nothing,” Hank counters, “and you need to tell me who did this to you and why so I can -”

“I don’t need you to do anything, okay?” Nick snaps, which is maybe a little harsh but also, he thinks, true. He drops the ice pack and stands up, although he doesn’t really know what he’s going to do - he can’t exactly walk out, this is his apartment.

“I know you don’t need me to do anything for you,” Hank says patiently, not getting up, “but we’re partners. We’re supposed to do things for each other. We’re supposed to trust each other. C’mon, man, at least tell me what happened.”

Nick relents, less because he actually wants to and more because standing up so suddenly has made his headache spike in intensity and he’d really like to sit back down. “I got punched.”

There’s a moment of silence. “And?” Hank prompts, when it becomes clear Nick isn’t going to say anything else.

“And nothing. It’s no big deal.”

“Anything that leaves you bruised and bloody automatically falls under the heading of ‘big deal.’”

Nick shakes his head, pressing the ice pack back against his face. “Hank, I swear, it’s -”

“If you say ‘fine’ one more time I’m going to take you to the precinct and lock you in a holding cell.”

Nick senses he’s not going to be able to get Hank to stop. “If I tell you what happened, you have to swear not to do anything about it,” he says. Making Hank promise him feels a bit childish, but he really doesn’t need anyone else knowing about this and he definitely doesn’t want the guy who punched him thinking that Nick can’t fend for himself. He’s new, he has a lot to prove, and, as he’s recently realized, a lot to learn about how this job actually works.

“Yeah, sure,” Hank agrees.

“It was Robertson,” Nick mumbles, half hoping Hank won’t be able to understand him.

Hank’s eyes widen. “Robertson. The guy from evidence lockup?”

Nick nods. “I...I honestly don’t know what I did. I had a question about the knife we found on Thursday, and I wanted to ask if I could see it, and then he started talking about protocol and I interrupted to ask him a question and he just sort of lost it. I hit him back and he stopped, really suddenly, and told me to get out of there.” He shrugs. “Maybe he was just having a bad day, I don’t know. He seems like a nice enough guy normally.”

Hank looks like he wants to punch something, so Nick quickly reminds him of his promise.

“That was before I knew our coworker did this to you,” Hank protests, but Nick shakes his head forcefully, reaches out and grabs hold of Hank’s arm.

“It’s okay, Hank. I’ll talk to him myself on Monday, figure out what happened, work things out. It’ll be fine. I’m still new, you know? I’ve got a lot to learn about how things work around here.”

Hank still doesn’t look happy, but he nods, and Nick releases his arm. He glances out to the living room, where the score is still 1-0. “You up for finishing the game?”

Hank nods again, then stands up and offers Nick his hand, just as he’d done several minutes before. Nick again takes it, holding on for a little bit longer than is strictly necessary as he waits for the pounding in his head to die down to a reasonable level. They make their way back to the couch and sit down as Portland takes a corner kick.

“Thank you,” Nick says, after a few minutes of easy silence.

“Of course,” Hank responds immediately. “This is what partners do.”

thanks for reading this! i hope you enjoyed :)

#whumptober2021 #no.3 #who did this to you?#grimm #fic #nick burkhardt #beat up #bruised #my writing #i say things #i had fun writing this i hope you liked it! have a good evening or whatever time

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ninzied · 3 years

Photo

that which we call a rose

based on the prompt: a hello/goodbye kiss that is given without thinking - where neither person thinks twice about it.

happy valentine’s day, kastle fam!

On the second Thursday of every month, Karen can’t help the extra spring in her step. There’s no point in trying to hide it—she does have an office adjacent to Matt’s, after all—but until she knows what it even is, she’ll let her friends draw their own conclusions.

This month is no exception.

“So…hot date tonight?” asks Foggy, precisely ten minutes after Matt’s said goodbye. Though Foggy’s doing his best to sound nonchalant, he’s clearly been waiting all day to spring the question on her. “You haven’t stopped smiling since you walked in this morning. And that was before we even had coffee. What gives?”

“Not a date,” says Karen lightly. “But a something.”

“Wait.” Foggy looks up from his briefcase, dropping every pretense now. “Yeah? That’s great! I’m so happy for you, Karen.”

She looks a little bemusedly at him. “Thanks, Foggy, but it’s not a big deal. Just takeout and whatever’s on TV tonight, probably.”

“Hey,” says Foggy. “Not gonna lie, but that sounds pretty appealing right now.”

Karen lets out a laugh. “Why? What’s stopping you and Marci?”

“You know how she gets about this kind of thing.” Foggy glances at his watch, and groans. “Shoot. I still have to pick up flowers. I can’t afford to be late—literally. This place had like a five-month wait list for tonight, and I think there’s a surcharge if we hold up one of their tables.” He throws her a rueful smile. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” says Karen, in a tone that she hopes will come across as commiserating rather than slightly confused. Was there some memo about today that she missed?

“And you have a good ‘not a date but a something,’” says Foggy, practically beaming at her. “You can”—he gives a comical wag of his eyebrow—”not tell me all about it tomorrow, sound good?”

“Sure,” says Karen, smiling distractedly. She waits until Foggy has gone, the door closed securely behind him. And then she picks up her tiny desk calendar, which she’d forgotten to flip over to February, and looks down at today’s date.

Oh. God.

…

The signs are everywhere, on her walk home from the subway.

For the life of her, Karen doesn’t know how she could’ve missed them before. Paper hearts plastered on storefront windows. Floral shops spilling out onto the sidewalks. Restaurants boasting their two-for-one specials. And the couples. All the couples, wherever she turns.

By the time she’s at her apartment, Karen is nearing levels of genuine panic.

She hangs up her work clothes as if on autopilot. She pulls on a worn pair of leggings and a soft, oversized sweater before pausing to reconsider, and then she changes out of that too. This isn’t just any second Thursday of the month anymore.

She checks her phone, in case Frank has canceled.

She does have a text from him, but all it says is that he’s running about a half hour late—his latest demolition site is all the way up in the Bronx, and traffic is a bitch right now—but how does she feel about Vietnamese for dinner?

There’s no doubt in her mind that the day has not occurred to him either.

Perfect. I’ll be ready with the wine, she sends back, and immediately wonders what has come over her. Beer would’ve been the more appropriate choice for this very much not-a-date, and besides that, they never drink wine together. Whiskey, sometimes, but they’d finished off her last bottle of Maker’s the last time he was here.

Wine is different. Wine means something. Right?

What was she thinking?

And what on earth is she supposed to wear?

…

Karen answers the door an hour later, back in her sweater and leggings. She breathes a small sigh of relief to find Frank there in his typical attire—jeans, with a faded black henley, and a crooked half-grin as he steps over the threshold into her apartment.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey,” he says back, like it’s just another day. Like this is just another dinner for them to catch up. He holds up a bag and says, “Hungry?”

“Starving.” She reaches for the food so he can get out of his coat, but he waves her gently off.

“’S’okay, I got it.” He looks at her, his gaze going warm. “Think you said there’d be wine?”

And just like that, the rest of her anxiety melts away. There’s still a light flutter of nerves in her stomach, but that’s something else.

Something that she’s always going to feel whenever she’s around him, whether it’s Valentine’s Day or not.

…

Despite how casually Frank is dressed, there’s always a sense of formality to the way he moves around in her place. Like he’s not quite sure whether he’s intruding or not.

He carefully folds his jacket over the back of her couch before taking the food to her kitchen, unpacking each dish as she pulls out the wine.

She tells him about work—minus Foggy’s theories on how she planned to spend her evening—and Frank doesn’t say much, but she knows that he’s listening, attentive to her as ever.

Somewhere between the first and second glass of wine is when he starts to loosen a little, leaning his elbows onto the counter, swiping the last bite of spring roll from her plate.

He tells her small stories about how work has been going for him, and each time she laughs he ducks his head down, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

They end up eating half the food before realizing they’re still standing in her kitchen.

Frank takes their wine to the couch, and she turns the TV on at low volume, flipping aimlessly through the channels.

They settle on a cooking show, which would’ve surprised her one year ago, before these Thursday night dinners. Before he teased her for the one frying pan that she owned and resigned himself to eating takeout from then on. Before they learned to laugh about things like what Matt said at work that day, or the fact that Frank hasn’t had to kill anyone with a sledgehammer. Not recently, anyway.

“All right,” he says, pointing at the pasta on her TV screen. “Next month, we’re doing this at my place for a change, and I’m making you that.”

She doesn’t know why she does it.

Maybe it’s his casual reference to next times. Maybe it’s how closely they’ve wound up sitting together, with her thigh snug against his, the arm he’s draped warmly over the back of the couch right behind her.

Maybe it’s the way this not-so-random Thursday in February feels as though it could become something like every day, for them.

“Deal.” She puts a hand on his knee without even thinking about it, smiling as she tells him, “All right, I’m going to go to the bathroom real quick.”

“Okay,” says Frank, turning to smile back at her.

It happens so fast, so instinctively that before she knows what she’s doing, she’s leaning in, and pressing her mouth briefly to his as she stands from the couch.

Like this is an everyday kind of thing for them too, kissing each other before one of them’s about to leave the room.

Karen makes it down the hall without any memory of how her legs have carried her there. Oh God. Oh God.

Her cheeks are flaming when she shuts the bathroom door behind her.

…

After splashing water on her face, and dabbing it dry with shaky hands, she looks in the mirror and wills every last part of her being to get a freaking grip. This is Frank, and she can be honest with him. Even if it means being honest with herself.

She knows what this is. She knows what she wants it to be. And she’s done letting either of them think that anything less is going to be enough for her.

Karen takes a deep breath and steps out of the bathroom.

…

She hadn’t been gone long, but apparently it was long enough.

The TV’s shut off, their wine glasses cleared from the coffee table. He’s not on the couch.

He’s not—anywhere in her living room.

But as she moves closer, she sees his coat still folded there, and then she hears the sound of movement in the kitchen. She doesn’t know whether she’s more relieved or apprehensive at the prospect of facing him right now, but she supposes she’s grateful she even has the option to decide between the two.

Frank’s clearing the counter, so she can’t get a good read on his face. He’s quiet, though, brows creased together even more somberly than usual, and the fact that he won’t meet her eye should tell her everything he’s not saying out loud.

Their leftovers are stacked neatly next to the takeout bag. He slides the bag out of her way as she picks up the food containers, storing them in her fridge. There’s a six-pack of beer on one of the lower shelves, the bottles clinking together as she closes the door.

“Frank,” she says, careful not to look over at him, “I think we should talk about what we’re doing here.”

He swallows audibly. And then he says, “Yeah. I know.”

She glances at him, wishing she weren’t as surprised as she feels. She’d expected more resistance from him, if not outright denial. It’s unfair of her, she knows; Frank’s abysmal track record notwithstanding, he’s still here, despite the fact that she’d just snuck a kiss out of him without his permission. That has to mean something.

Right?

God love him, though, but he can’t seem to keep his hands still. He grips the edge of the counter, and then reaches into the takeout bag, a rustle of paper and plastic that echoes overloudly in the silence between them.

Karen presses her lips together, biting back a refrain about how now is probably not the time for dessert.

Instead, Frank pulls out a small bouquet of white roses.

She stares as he sets them down on the counter. When he looks up at her, it’s with an intensity that nearly knocks her off her feet, and she grips the counter edge too in order to steady herself.

His gaze is unwavering on hers. “I’ve been thinking about this day for a while.”

She blinks at him, a part of her still wondering if it’s wrong of her to hope. “You have?”

“More than anything.” He shifts closer, and now she can see the last of the fear in him too, how he’s finally reached past it for something—for more. The edge of her own fear starts to soften, giving way to that fluttering lightness only Frank can make her feel.

Karen steps forward, marveling at the shared heat between them without their bodies actually touching. “And what, exactly, have you been thinking?”

Frank brings his hand up to the back of her neck, and she closes her eyes as he pulls her in.

He kisses her, and it’s everything Karen has wanted, everything she could only pretend that she hadn’t been waiting for all this time. He kisses her, and she knows how long he’s been wanting, and how hard he’s been waiting for this too.

He draws in a hoarse breath when they part. “I wanted to get this right,” he murmurs.

“Well,” says Karen, trying—failing—not to smile, “you want to know what I think?”

He tightens his arms around her. “What?”

“I think this is a good place to start,” she says, and leans in to kiss him again.

#kastle #kastle ff #kastlenetwork

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whatupitsastarrynite · 3 years

Text

Undercover

Prompt: Your angel’s girl, but you also work as a mercenary for the cartel. Not solely for Miguel but you work jobs sporadically so you couldn’t be tied to the cartel. After all, it would be terrible for a coveted government agent to be linked to a cartel, except you didn’t work for the American government, Germany was the place to be.

You walked into the club, eyes all on you, the newcomer that no one has laid their eyes upon. You looked to your right and saw the MC, in their full glory, drinking it up and enjoying the women. Your eyes connected with Angel and he smirked, lifting his drink up to you. With no reaction, you looked up and locked eyes with Miguel Galindo, a friend of a friend. You rarely worked for him, but he was always pleasant to work with. Angel was not happy with this plan, but business was business.

Making your way down the stairs, you headed towards the bar where your target was. The man was a new heroin player and apparently showed no fear towards Miguel. He was arrogant, careless and predictable, a young blood as they would say. You took the seat beside him and he immediately turned to you. He owned the bar, for now, but by the end of the night, he would be nothing but a blotch on Miguel’s ever growing legacy.

“You’re new.” He commented.

“Visiting family,” your explanation was short, he didn’t need much from what you gathered. Once he saw a piece of ass, it was hook line and sinker.

“In Santo Padre? I doubt anyone in this shit hole could be related to such a beautiful specimen as you.”

His words wanted to make you cringe, but you kept your cool, smiling coyly. “Is that your way of getting into my pants?”

“Is it working?”

You looked at the bartender and ordered a drink, turning back to him, you ran a hand down his exposed chest, the gold chains rested on his chest. “Maybe, I’m hard to impress.”

“I’m sure I can make something happen.”

Angel watched you put your hands on this man, the grip around his glass tightened. He hated this. He knew you did plenty of undercover shit, but not in front of him. He was against this plan, but how could he outvote Miguel Galindo? If anything, why did you work for the cartel when you technically worked for the government? Even though it’s the German government.

“Keep it cool ‘Mano.” Coco warned. “It’s just business.”

“Easy for you to say, it’s not your girl doing this shit.”

“My girl don’t work for Galindo, so I guess that’s a plus.” Coco joked but he knew Angel was not in a joking mood.

You smiled at the new player over the top of your drink. His eyes suggestively looked over your barely covered body.

Rompers were your favorite and tonight you had decided to wear a skin tight black romper with a deep V that showed plenty of chest as well as plenty of leg. You paired it with your black, wraparound chunky heels and some gold jewelry.

“Never caught you name..” The man said

You huffed and took a drink of your whiskey.

“I didn't catch yours” you replied

He eyed you for a moment before he ordered a round of tequila shots and then turned his entire body to face you. His knee brushed against yours and you had to stop yourself from flinching away from him.

“Alec..” He said simply

The bartender placed two shots in front of each of you and you arched your eyebrow before downing your whiskey. A small drop stayed on your lips and you licked it off suggestively while giving Alec intense eye contact.

“Veronica.” You replied as you wrapped your perfectly manicured nails around the first shot glass.

There was no way in hell you were giving out your real name, and you changed aliases every time you went undercover and this time was no different.

“Veronica…I like it” Alec said

“Mm, cheers.” You said as you raised your glass and quickly downed it. You sat the empty glass down next to your whiskey one and turned to look back at Alec who was now licking his lips.

He outstretched his hand and placed it on top of your left thigh in a possessive manner. His fingers were spread wide and he leaned in closer to you as he asked about your interests.

From the corner of the bar, Angel let out a small groan. His hands were clenched around the bottle so hard that he felt like he was going to break it. His legs were bouncing up and down impatiently and he was biting down hard making the muscle in his jaw jump.

“You good?” Ez asked from behind him

“Fuck no! He’s got his disgusting hands all over Y/N….i should go over there and cut them off his fucking body.” Angel snapped

“Calmate Angel. She is doing her job.” Galindo said as he lowered his elbows down on the table in an inconspicuous way. To a stranger it would look like Miguel was simply watching the sports game on the TV.

“What if it was Emily?” Angel whispered harshly.

Miguel arched an eyebrow at Angel but didn't give him any eye contact.

“One of the many reasons I don't mix business and pleasure.” Miguel whispered back.

Angel rolled his eyes and looked back over to you.

You were laughing loudly, your head thrown back and your hair falling around your face. You looked so beautiful and all Angel wanted to do was rush over there, take you into the alleyway and fuck you against the cobblestone wall.

Unfortunately, business was getting in the way.

But this business needed to get his fucking hands off your body because Angel was slowly but surely losing all his patience– and he wasnt even a patient man to begin with.

You saw the two Reyes brothers and Miguel at the end of the bar. You could see the anger just radiating off of Angel. You scratched your chest, signaling for Angel to calm down, something you two established since you two couldn’t exactly communicate. While you looked away, Alec slipped a drug in your drink. Angel almost fucking lost it, but you saw his actions through the mirror of the bar. While he was looking away, you switched your drinks. He had waved off his man, seeing himself as untouchable due to the fact he owned the Damn club.

But that’s why young bloods died off easily.

Invisibility was earned, not given.

You smiled, eating the olives off of the stick, licking the olive for good measure. He groaned and when you looked up at Angel, you saw him looking up at the ceiling, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. That action alone made you clench your thighs together. You couldn’t wait till Angel was in between your fucking legs later, holding you down and getting orgasm after orgasm out of you.

“You’re fucking stunning.” He pulled you closer, his lips almost touched yours, but you moved away, kissing his cheek.

“Gonna take more than that for you to get me.” You pulled away, taking another sip of your drink, which he was ecstatic about. Soon enough you wouldn’t be able to fight him off. He downed his drink and smiled.

“How long will you be in town?”

“Long enough.” You shrugged. “It’s kind of getting hot in here,” you fanned yourself.

“You wanna get out of here?” Alec didn’t beat around the bush, and you appreciated that.

“Sure.” You picked up your clutch where your gun was situated.

Alec put a hundred dollar bill on the bar top, obviously trying to impress you. You merely smiled and looked at Angel who looked at you as if you were prey. Your clothes barely covered anything and lived little to the imagination. But you were playing a game, it was your uniform. You could feel Angel’s eyes on you as he led you to the alleyway.

As soon as you two were out of sight, Angel tried to make his way over to the door, but EZ stopped him.

“Give it a few minutes.” Ez advised.

Angel pushed his brother off frustrated this was going on. And it further irritated him how fucking horny he was right now.

When you got outside, Alec slammed you against the wall, his lips already on you. You wanted to vomit, you hated how he tasted. You felt his hand slide up your thigh, but you turned you both around.

“I’m more of a giver.” You unbuckle his belt and as you did, you got your gun out of your clutch. “A gift from Mr. Galindo.” You stepped back and shot him point blank on the head, his blood splattering on your skin, your clothes. It was unnerving how much killing another person didn’t bother you as much, but it came with years of killing.

The door of the club opened and you locked eyes with your fiancé, Angel Reyes.

Everything slowed as Angel stared at you. The breath left his lungs and got caught in his throat as he took in the specks of blood that were splattered across both your skin and clothing.

He knew that he should run over to you and make sure you were okay but his feet were firmly rooted on the sidewalk. It was simple, he was in awe of you- you stood there strong, independent and sexy as hell. You didn't need his help, hell, he didn't even hear you shoot thr guy.

Any normal human would turn his nose up at the red droplets scattered on you, but that only served to turn Angel on more. His dick was achingly hard, and despite his jeans being a thick material, his arousal was easy to spot.

"Told you everything was going to be okay." Miguel said as he strolled behind Angel confidently.

"Nestor, take care of this and Y/N- pleasure doing business with you. Per your request, your payment has been left in your car trunk. As stated...no ties to me." Miguel continued

You nodded and slowly put your gun back into your clutch. You made your way over to the men, not bothering to pay attention to anyone except Angel.

"Pleasure was all mine Mr. Galindo. I'm available any time you need more....assistance." You replied as your eyes flicked over to the Cartel leader.

He smirked at you and nodded softly before he made his way over to the Mayans President.

"We're leaving." Angel said shortly.

You smiled up at him, you weren't an idiot. You could see how turned on he was from a mile away, he had never been able to hide that part of him from you.

"I rode in the van today, so we can just take your car." Angel continued.

He stretched out his hand and you quickly interlocked your fingers with his. His warm hand grounded you and reminded you that even though you felt nothing when you killed another person, you did in fact feel something every time you were with Angel. He made you feel like a human, not a robotic killing machine that you often thought of yourself as.

"I'll drive." You stated as the pair of you broke apart and made your way to your sides of the car. Angel didn't argue, he wouldn't even try, he learned over the years that you liked to control everything. No- you had to control everything, otherwise your mind would spin out of control and your emotions would spiral in a way that was dangerous for everyone.

Rather than finding you a freak- angel found you endearing. He helped you regulate your thoughts and emotions, he broke down every wall you had- and he was the only person you ever gave up control to.

The ride home was tense due to the air in the car being charged with sexual energy. You wanted Angel just as bad as he wanted you and try as you might to reel your body back in, you couldn't stop your arousal from soaking through your panties and making the insides of your thighs slick.

When you arrived at the house, Angel was on you quicker than any other time before. You had barely stepped out of the car when he shoved you against the drivers side door. He shoved his thigh in between your legs and rutted against your body. Your head fell back and he took advantage of that and began to lick and nip at your neck.

"Fuck dulce you have no idea how turned on I am right now. The whole time that bitch had his hands on you all I could think about was cutting them off and feeding them to him as he watched me fuck you against the bar." Angel growled against your neck.

You let out a small groan and let your fingers intertwine with Angel's thick hair. You ground your hips down on him and he licked up your neck while his hands cupped your ass deliciously.

"Angel... I need a shower." You stated

Angel kissed your neck twice more before he moved to your lips. You knew him well enough to know he was ignoring you and you rolled your eyes at him.

Your hand found the middle of his chest and you pushed him back some. At the same time, your other hand grabbed his chin and made him look at you.

"Let me shower and then you can have your way with me...however you want. Okay baby?"

Angel let his head fall back and he groaned before he lifted his head back up and sighed. He ran a hand through his hair and licked his lips before he nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it...just hurry up. You've tested my patience enough tonight."

You quickly showered, scrubbing the man’s scent, his residual touch on your skin. Killing people has come easier, but it doesn’t mean it didn’t chip a part of your soul. Whenever you were outside of Santo Padre, you had to become a ruthless killer with no qualms. Control was everything to you because if you didn’t have it, it made you antsy. You can’t control the outcome without having all variables. So you were a lone wolf, working alone was much easier than having teammates, too many pawns, too many bodies, too much accountability.

You got out of the shower, wrapping yourself with a towel. When you walked out of the bathroom and into your shared bedroom with Angel, he was already naked, his cock raring to go. He looked at you, light brown eyes dark as could be, waiting for you to come and join him. Dropping your towel by the doorway of the bathroom, you placed a knee on the bed you two shared, eyes locked on Angel. You met him six years ago and you two haven’t parted since then. Angel was a bit of a pest and he didn’t leave you alone, it was endearing and he made you feel again. The shy girl you left behind, the quiet woman that everyone walked over, she came back whenever you were with Angel.

You felt human again.

“So how are we doing this daddy?” The one time you gave up control was to Angel and that took years. Whenever you two were together, you gave part of the control to Angel, but in the bedroom, you trusted him fully and gave all the control to him. You loved him, he was the best part of you, your partner in crime and for him, you would give whatever he wanted.

“Come sit on my face.”

You asked no questions and followed command. You placed each knee on each side of Angel’s head, your hands on the headboard. Looking down at Angel, you groaned when you saw his sinful tongue dart out of his mouth and made contact with your heated core. A moan escaped your lips as Angel lapped up your sex, moving your hips to move along with his tongue. Fuck, Angel was sinful, nothing like his namesake.

But if he was any Angel, he would be the fallen one, Lucifer.

You threw your head back, Angel knew your body too well and he could make you cum without so much of a try. As you came, he held you down, his tongue continued to lap at you, catching every juice that fell from your hole.

“Angel, fuck, that feels so good.”

He smacked your ass. “That’s not my name princesa.”

“Daddy, that feels so good.” You wanted to push him away, but you knew Angel wouldn’t like that. You didn’t want to test him today, you knew that seeing you in action was going to infuriate him. This was the first time he saw you undercover and you hoped it would be the last. Fucking with men without your fiancé looking at you was easy, when he was six feet away, all you wanted to do was be in Angel’s arms.

Vulnerability was not your strong suit, but it occurred when you were with Angel. You were carefree, which in hindsight was dangerous, but you knew he would protect you.

Before you could even react, Angel had you on your back, your legs together and pushed towards your chest. You were like bent into a ‘C’ of some sorts, Angel’s mouth was still latched onto your clit.

“Jesus Christ, daddy, fuck, I’m cumming again.” And just like that, Angel got another orgasm from you.

He moved away, watching as your legs shook. He bit your skin, smacking your ass once again.

“This is never happening again,” he told you. “You’re mine.”

“I’m yours, always.”

"Fuckin right." Angel growled out

Your body was despite aching to be filled by him and you stared up at Angel through your lashes in an attempt to get him to push his dick into you.

Angel smirked down at you and arched a perfect eyebrow before he bent down and kissed your lips. He sucked your tongue into his mouth and used his own tongue to lick at your bottom lip.

He pulled away quickly and nipped at your chin before his fingers reached between your thighs. He began to stroke your folds while his thumb circled on your sensitive clit. You moaned loudly as he used his free hand to push your legs open more.

"You're so wet for me..." Angel whispered as he hovered over you.

Your back arched into his touch and you were on the edge of begging for him to put something- anything, inside you. You needed it like plants needed the sun. As he adjusted his body, his dick slid across your skin on your thigh and a trail of precum followed it.

Your eyes flicked to the wet spot on your leg and then you looked back up at Angel. His gaze had darkened impossibly more to the point where he looked almost feral.

Slowly you moved your fingers to your thigh and you scooped up the tiny amount of cum onto your index finger. He kept his eyes trained on you as you seductively brought your hand to your mouth and began to lick your finger clean.

Angel's unique taste exploded on your tongue and it only made your body crave him more. His fingers were still teasing at your entrance and you whimpered out a small plea.

"Please daddy...."

"Please what?"

You arched your body again, and rolled your head to the side as.you ground your hips down onto Angel's hand.

"Use your words baby..." Angel whispered

You looked up at him as your lips parted. A breathy moan escaped your mouth as Angel pressed down on your sensitive bud.

"Shiiiiiiit, I need you Angel, please, fuck me please daddy." You cried out

That was all it took, Angel withdrew his fingers and quickly replaced them with his dick. He hovered above your body on his forearms and right before he shoved his mushroom tip into your awaiting entrance, he kissed your lips gently.

Your nails dug into his shoulder blades as he pushed his member into your wet hole- in one stroke he bottomed out and you felt your eyes roll into the back of your head.

His eyes fluttered shut and he inhaled deeply as he adjusted himself to being inside you.

"Damn...you feel so amazing....you always feel so amazing."

You moaned in agreement, your eyes were closed, just letting yourself feel Angel surrounded your senses. Your sense of smell, touch, hearing, and taste were all clouded by Angel. You didn’t need to see Angel for him to cloud your sight. He was sliding in and out of you, he was groaning, praising how well you were taking him.

Angel watched as your eyes had fluttered close, he knew how you were. You loved closing your eyes as he pounded into you, letting all your other senses heightened as he overtook your body. He looked at your body, the scars of previous assignments screamed at him. Even though it was your job, he wasn’t exactly happy about it. One time, you came home to him barely standing, but you managed to smile and still comfort him. He loved you, he loved you so much that it was overwhelming. His jealousy wasn’t out of insecurity, he just didn’t like any man being near you who wanted you. He saw the tattoo he designs on your left rib, just below your breast.

“We should add to this,” he traced the tattoo, which was his name.

“Okay,” you bit down on your lip. “Fuck Angel, go faster.”

Angel chuckled, smacking your clit making you whine. “What’s my name?”

“Daddy.” You gave in, not wanting to prolong anything. You just wanted to cum, to feel Angel cost your walls.

“I love you mi corazon,” he bent over and took your lips with his.

“I love you daddy.”

Angel moved faster, sliding in and out of you as he watched you open your eyes. Angel had intense eye contact and so did you. You never looked away from Angel when he was giving you immense pleasure and it was no different now. He spread your legs, slowing his speed and watched himself slide in and out of you. He watched his dick creamed with your juices, and it brought it immense pleasure to know he did this for you, that he could pleasure you in this way. He placed one of his cold rings against your clit and it made you clench him harder. He repeated the motion and you cried out his name, your back arching. His rings always felt so fucking good, it should be against the law just how much pleasure his rings brought to you.

You gripped the sheets, begging Angel to let you cum. And just as you were about to cum, Angel pulled out.

You let out a broken sounded moan as your body tried to chase the pleasure Angel was taking away from you. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, it was shaking and so overstimulated that you couldn't even think.

Angel observed you from above. He took in every sight, listened to every sound you made and at the sound of his name leaving your lips some more precum leaked out of his tip.

He was so fucking close to climaxing- his dick was uncomfortably hard now.

"Angel pleaseeeeeee!" You screamed out

"Who?" Angel demanded as his hand shot out and encircled your neck. He put just the right amount of pressure on your esophagus so that you could breath but it was harder to do so than normal.

"Daddy!" You replied with a short breath.

Angel groaned, he couldn't hold himself off any longer. His fingers tightened around your neck and in one swift motion he buried himself all the way to his hilt into your wet pussy.

All it took was one perfectly positioned thrust, and you were instantly seeing stars. Your entire body locked up and it felt like a cosmic explosion was going off in your soul. You could barely register the fact that you were screaming Angel's name so loud that your throat was going raw.

Angel was quickly starting to lose control of his body. His thrusting was hard, fast and precise. His stomach was clenching and as soon as your nails dug into his shoulder blade he broke. His hot seed exploded from his dick and painted your walls in thick coats of white.

He moaned out your name and continued to thrust into you slowly as he rode out his orgasm.

After what seemed like years, both of you finally came down from your high. Angel gently pulled out of you, causing his cum to leak down your inner thighs. He let out a sigh and collapsed next to you on the bed.

You were both breathing heavy and your bodies were covered in a thin layer of sweat. You felt like you had just run a 5k, only this 5k left you sated and high on pleasure instead of uncomfortably sore and tired.

"Maybe I should work in front of you more....if you're going to fuck me like that every time." You breathed out

Angel chuckled and turned his head to look at you. You returned his warm gaze and reached up to stroke his face.

"I love you..." he whispered

"And I love you Angel." You replied

#angel reyes #mayans mc #mayans #mayans fandom #mayans fanfic #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes imagine

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writing-gifts · 3 years

Text

both sides of the viewfinder chp. 4

adult film star!bruno x afab!reader (they are also gn)

18+ content!!

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4

——–

A/N: i was not quicker with the next update lol, but im tired of reading over it so gonna just throw it out there now since im mostly happy with it!

anyways, resort time babeyyy 😎

------

You try not to show it but you're filled with excitement. You've never been to a resort and Bruno had offered to pay for your expenses. Of course you were only willing to let him pay half (which was the lowest you could get him to go).

The two of you had been playing a game of sorts ever since your little session in the dressing room. Even though the both of you wanted to finish what you started, you had wordlessly decided to see how long the other would last before giving in. You couldn't really call it romantic but you did know there was lust involved--a lot.

The game had honestly made you quite bold and taught you some patience. Of course you still had some close calls though, and filming Bruno at work had made it that much harder for you. It wasn't fair and you made sure to let the man know this, but he just coyly smiled and told you he was ready to go whenever you were.

You drop your luggage in front of the bed you and Bruno would be sharing for the next week. At first, you assumed you would both be in separate rooms since you weren't an actual item, but Bruno wasn't having any of it which you were glad for. You wanted to get as much alone time as you could with him during this vacation.

You get closer to the sliding glass doors that lead to the balcony. The location was perfect and you had a nice view of the beach from here. You had never seen such blue water or white sand. And you could already feel yourself sprawled out on a towel next to a shirtless Bruno.

"Like the view?" Bruno asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

You nod. "This is great! Thank you again for inviting me."

"Of course. I didn't want to go a whole week without seeing you."

You try to force down the smile that appears on your face in response but it's obvious and you know Bruno already saw it.

He smiles, reaches out and places a gentle hand on your cheek. However, you close your eyes to avoid his very intense and persuading gaze.

"Gonna have to try harder than that," you say under breath as you turn back to the balcony.

"...I didn't expect you to last this long. You've definitely proved me wrong."

"And I'm going to win too." You stick out your tongue.

Bruno smirks but says nothing more before going to unpack his luggage. You eventually pull yourself away from the view to do the same.

-----

You lay on your back, sunglasses on your face as you let the sun warm you. You were still pretty full from brunch and any moment now you expected to fall asleep. 'Til then, you watch Irene, Eli and Jocelyn goofing off in the water and sand.

The group decided to start the day together off at the beach. Which was perfect because today was going to be about relaxation, at least for you anyways. You all had time to get rowdy later if you wanted to anyways.

"____?"

You turn your head to look at Bruno who currently lays on his front. His sun hat sits on the back of his head to keep that part of him shaded.

"If you don't mind, can you put sunscreen on me? It's been awhile since I last did."

"Sure," you say. You should probably put some on too when you're done.

You walk on your knees to grab the bottle out of Bruno's bag and then crawl your way over to him.

You couldn't help but take a moment to admire his tanned back. The muscles along it were a lovely sight and of course being the horny bastard that you are, your eyes drift down towards his ass. He had a cute butt that you had seen many times but still weren't tired of.

You suddenly remember a scene where Bruno was getting railed and need to take a moment to calm down.

Maybe one day…

"Hello?" Bruno pulls you from your inappropriate imaginings.

"Right, right--sunscreen."

You scooch up next to him and move to place your knees on either side of his hips so you can sit on his upper thighs.

Bruno looks over his shoulder at you with a raised brow, causing his hat to fall off, but you smile innocently.

"Relax," you say.

He squints but lays his head back on his arms.

Once you squeeze and rub the cool, sweet smelling cream on your hands you bring them to his shoulders. You spread the cream following the lines of his muscles on his upper back before sliding lower.

You spend a little more time on his lower back then you should, and the dimples that rest above his ass get special attention.

The man's hips shift oh so slightly and you look up and see that his eye is closed and his brow furrowed.

You scoot up and lean forward. "I could do your front too," you whisper in his ear.

"We are in public."

You jolt at the gruff voice a small distance away. Sitting up, you see Abbacchio scowling at the two of you from the giant parasol he's sitting under.

You sigh but move off Bruno before the goth kills you with his glare.

"You're right. Sorry," Bruno says.

You weren't sorry but nod anyways. It's not like you two were doing anything that obvious. Just some teasing. And there was barely anyone outside your friend group out here!

"Just keep it out of my sight." Abbacchio taps the airpods in his ear before returning his attention to the ocean.

After you all get your fill of the beach, which goes well into the evening, it's time to get ready for dinner.

Since it was the first official day of your vacation you all want something more casual but still on the expensive side. So you all eventually decide on Korean BBQ.

"I'm just glad you two didn't try to fuck each other on the beach," Irene says. "Even if it would have been fun to watch…"

Okay so maybe you weren't as discrete as you thought. Abbacchio throws an unimpressed look directly at you and Bruno, but you choose to ignore it.

"I was just putting sunscreen on him I swear…"

Eli smirks at you. "This picture says otherwise."

Your brows raise when they show you and Bruno the image on their phone.

Your cheeks go hot and you look down at your plate. "Why did you even take a picture of that?"

"Memories!"

Jocelyn barks out a laugh. "You have a weird taste in memories cause that's the last thing I'd want to remember!"

You roll your eyes but you know it was in good fun. Bruno seems mildly amused anyways.

Not willing to entertain the topic any further, you pick up a piece of grilled pork from your plate. As you bring it to your mouth, you feel Bruno's leg brush against yours.

You peak over at him but he seems to be completely invested in a conversation with Abbacchio.

You assume it's an accident until you feel him do it again along with resting his hand on your upper leg. His fingers gently squeeze your inner thigh before rubbing the area with his thumb.

You continue eating your food as if it has no affect on you. It takes a lot of will power though as he continues his caresses throughout the whole dinner.

Afterwards, the group splits off. Jocelyn and Irene head to a club, Eli to the casino (Jocelyn made sure to put a limit on the money they could blow) and Abbacchio to the bar. You and Bruno decide to head to your room, obviously not in the mood to go anywhere else tonight.

When you reach your room, you both get ready for bed acting as if you don't want to fuck each other.

You crawl next to Bruno on the bed once you're done with the bathroom.

"I'm not tired yet…" you say

"Me neither."

"I guess we could watch a movie or show. There has to be something we both like on Netflix."

You pick up the remote for the TV and make your way to Netflix and start scrolling through the options on the front page.

"What type of stuff do you like to watch anyways?" you ask.

"Romance works."

"You probably watch the explicit type of romance," you joke.

Bruno's eyes widen slightly and you surmise that you guessed right. Either that or he was weirded out by your statement and that seemed very unlikely.

You smile amused. "Well I guess we could watch something like that then!"

Once you both finally settle on something, you get comfortable and lean against Bruno.

The movie wasn't really that great and every sex scene that happened made you cringe but it was at least kind of entertaining. Still, you were starting to get bored and were still horny from all the nonsense you and Bruno had been up to the last several days.

So in a moment of weakness you place your hand on Bruno's thigh. He looks at you expectantly but you do nothing more.

You want to look at him properly to see his expression but you need 100% focus or you would break. So you keep your eyes on the TV as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. If you were lucky this would somehow bring your game to a close and the two of you could do something more exciting.

Bruno says your name under his breath, but you simply hum. Enduring that dinner was proof of your will and you believe you could keep this up all night if needed. (But that was the last thing you were hoping for.)

Suddenly, you feel a warm hand on top of yours.

Bruno guides your hand further up his thigh. "Please…"

"Huh?" You fake the confusion in your voice.

"Let's end this game."

"Oh...so that means I win?"

"Yes you win, just please touch me."

You smirk and move to kneel a small distance in front of him. "That was so easy!" You were thoroughly going to enjoy this.

When he sees you're not getting closer it prompts him to scooch forward on the bed, but before he can touch you, you push him down on his back and crawl on top. There's a slightly stunned look on his face but it quickly changes to one of anticipation.

You line your chest with Bruno's and lean down for a kiss which he returns enthusiastically.

"I never thought I'd enjoy losing this much...." he murmurs against your lips.

You smirk and continue your kisses down his cheek. Your hands find their way under his shirt and slowly explore the span of his abdomen and chest. He softly sighs when you begin sucking at the skin between his neck and shoulder and your hands squeeze him in response.

When you hear Bruno's breathing become slightly heavier you sit up and remove his shirt. You'd seen his body many times in all sorts of positions but you still take a second to appreciate his toned torso.

You press kisses to his chest and let your hands run down his sides enjoying how he just barely reacts under your fingertips. You stop at his hips, and your thumbs trace back and forth along his hip bones. Your tongue brushes against Bruno's nipple, and you feel him tense under your hands.

You move back to sit on his pelvis and immediately feel his cock through his pants. Bruno gently rocks his hips against your ass, and you entertain the motion by pressing down yourself.

His hands grab your hips, but before he can get too carried away you pull your ass off him. He ends up humping the air and lets out a sigh of frustration. His tune changes quickly though when he sees you move down between his legs.

"I'm not really feeling like I lost anything…"

You gently rub at his hard bulge through his pajama pants. "Well guess I'm just that generous. But at the same time I feel like I'm going too easy on you now."

"Please don't make me wait any longer ____."

You look up and the man's cheeks are flushed and he seems a little dazed, but he doesn't take his eyes off you. Seeing the usually controlled actor look at you this way has your stomach flipping.

"I didn't expect you to be so impatient," you say.

"I suppose you just have this effect on me..."

Smiling to yourself, you pull his pants down and are surprised by a pair of fancy panties.

You raise a brow at him. "...You already knew how tonight was going to end, huh?"

You carefully pull the satin fabric down before licking a slow stripe up his cock. The smug look on Bruno's face is immediately wiped away.

You wrap your hand around his twitching member and press your lips against the tip. He lets out a low hum, and your tongue licks against the slit before your mouth wraps around his sensitive head.

Whenever Bruno tries to move his hips you force them down and continue with your teasing touches along his cock. But eventually you decide to stop messing with him and fully take him into your mouth.

His eyes flutter shut. "Hmm, that feels amazing amore."

Even though he was finally in your mouth you move achingly slow and you can tell he wants you to go faster. And he makes it quite clear.

You let up a bit but mostly keep at driving him crazy. Your hand starts to knead at his balls and you immediately feel him twitching in your mouth.

"____. You're--"

You pull off.

Once Bruno realizes what just happened he deadpans at you. You laugh at his expression and he sits up with a sigh.

"Okay you had your fun, time to lay back."

You raise a brow at him.

Bruno begins stripping himself completely of his clothes. "You're the winner, right? Let me treat you."

Perhaps he had a point, and you didn't really have a problem with letting him takeover. This time.

Before you can think of taking your own clothes off, Bruno's doing it for you. His thumbs hook in the band of your pants and pull them down for you.

"...No underwear?" he asks.

You shrug and remove your shirt in an attempt to prevent yourself from laughing. "Guess you weren't the only one planning on ending this tonight."

Once you're done, you lay down and Bruno settles next to you. He places his hand on your lower stomach and brings his face close to yours. You immediately get caught in his blue eyes. It's not fair that he gets to be so handsome.

His finger easily pushes past your wet entrance while his thumb rubs gentle circles against your clit. Another finger is soon added and he begins to thrust his fingers slowly into you. When he crooks them against your walls you have a hard time holding back the noises you want to make.

"A-Are you gonna get me back for teasing you?" you ask. It would be deserved, but you hope he didn't. You hadn't realized how worked up you were until Bruno started touching you.

"Another time. I don't want to wait any longer."

He removes his fingers and gets himself situated on top of you. Once his hips are comfortably between your legs, you drag a finger along his cock before grabbing and lining it with your entrance. Finally after all the games you could both get some relief.

The moment Bruno feels himself against your entrance he presses in letting you take him slowly, inch by inch. When he's fully in, you sigh and slightly wiggle your hips. One of your legs hook around his waist and you place your arms around his neck. He keeps his eyes on yours as he pulls back before pressing in again and starting a nice and comfortable rhythm.

Your hand plays at the soft hairs at the nape of his neck before properly tangling into his locks. You pull and his lips part, a perfect moan falling from them. His hips thrust against you particularly hard forcing a groan out of you.

You smirk a bit. "Never get tired of that…"

Your fingers massage his scalp before you guide his face close to yours. Your lips join and he quickly presses his tongue into your mouth.

Just as you're really enjoying the kiss, he ends it. But before you can pout he pulls you close against him. His thrusts begin to speed up and his moans are muffled by the side of your face.

You always loved Bruno's moans when you were filming him but something about his current ones were different--so desperate and wanting. They had you clenching on his cock.

His hand snakes down between you two and your eyes fall shut as he rubs your clit. Your breath hitches when you feel him nip your ear.

Bruno hums. "You feel amazing...I feel like I could do this for hours."

You mumble something unintelligible under your breath in reply, not even sure what it you said until you start moaning out Bruno's name. Your back arches and your legs tighten around his waist to keep his hips in place as you come.

Bruno nuzzles against your neck and once your legs relax he continues thrusting.

"You came on my cock so well...ah, just a little more--"

His hips begin to stutter and he calls out your name. You press your lips to his temple and move your hips to help him along. His body tenses before he pulls out and comes onto your stomach.

Bruno's hips rock against you as he comes down and soon his body relaxes against yours. He doesn't seem to mind the mess he's making. His nose brushes against your cheek before you feel a kiss.

After some silence you yawn."...We should do this more often."

He stops peppering kisses on your neck and places an arm over your torso. "Agreed. In fact, we can start again in 5 minutes after I clean us off."

You gawk a bit at him. "Don't you get tired?"

"I do, that's why I said 5 minutes."

You scoff but end up grinning instead. "Well...it's not like we're going anywhere for awhile."

#bruno buccellati x reader #bruno x reader #bruno bucciarati x reader #they should smashed on the beach for the aesthetic or whatever lol #that can be another chapter if i ever get energy to write smut again #jjba x reader #reader insert #n$fw #not sfw

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shiteatinggrin · 3 years

Text

Wrote this quickly without editing it, so sorry if there are any mistakes. I tried to go fast because I didn’t want to miss Training Prompt Tuesday. This is a classic scenario, done a million times, but I wanted to be a part of the club. Jily are in hiding in Godric’s Hollow, and they dancing in the kitchen, ft Baby Harry. Enjoy! @petalstosarah

Word count: 1253

James Potter had been feeling hollow for quite some time. His whole head felt like cotton, and Harry had been crying all night, the poor boy was still teething (more like seething from the screams he let out). This morning he had spilled his coffee on his favourite shirt, burned his eggs, stubbed his toe on the corner of the bed and then again on the kitchen table. Sirius was supposed to come today, but a scrawny owl had come bearing the bad news in a short note: Got a mission tonight. Last minute. Sorry, mate. S. Dumbledore had come some weeks before and had requested to take a look at his invisibility cloak, which he had agreed to without much difficulty, since he had been in a very good mood that day, but now there was no possibility for him to sneak out at night anymore.

Before giving the cloak away, Lily and him had agreed to one night a week each where they could get out calmly, on different nights only since the cloak wasn’t big enough for both of them. One of his happiest moments of the Godric’s Hollow week night was to crawl out of bed at midnight, well after Lily had fallen asleep and not long before she would be woken up by Harry and going oustide by himself to look up at the immensity of the moon, or the stars, or whatever element of nature catcehd his attention that night. It felt like Hogwarts again, hanging out on the grounds, running in the Forbidden Forest and losing the others behind him, rare stolen moments of true freedom. So, maybe sneaking out of his own house on (human) foot was less exciting, and less free, but it was the closest he got to savour liberty again.

His tea was scalding, and he burned his lips. He knew he should have opted for orange juice, he didn’t even like tea in the morning, and apparently it didn’t like him back!

The thing he liked to do the most to pass the time was slowly remodeling their house, working with spells and sometimes Muggle instruments if he was sufficiently bored. They had repainted Harry’s nursery recently and the paint fumes had stayed for a week, so their son slept in their room with them, and sometimes Lily would place him on her chest or his, and they would all sync up their breathing, happily, serenely. The only times that they were completely safe from their nightmares, from the people they had killed, from the thought of suffering the same fate. Now Harry only slept in their room, since he cried a lot less when his parents were by his side, protecting presences.

He was trapped in here, trapped in the house he was trying to better everyday, but still couldn’t compare to what freedom and exaltation had tasted like. He loved his family, and he would have died for them, he would have, but sometimes, the most horrible part of him, the cruelest, meanest part of him wished that he could run away, go and live his life. Of course, he would never do it, never abandon anybody. The faint taste of wishing it was enough, like a buffet for the mind. Everytime he surprised himself daydreaming about it during the day, it felt like the biggest of betrayals, and had to go in the shower to stop himself from crying. One time, he had been nailing a painting to the wall and his vision had blurred after dreaming of a delicious beach, waves licking the sand, and he had almost nailed his thumb to the wall. Even with the help of magic, the bruise took six days to heal.

Sometimes he was afraid Lily could feel it, could feel his restlessness, his wish of going back to battle, going back to his previous life, he was scared she would think he would ever leave her behind. He loved her too much for that, but he didn’t know how to say it anymore. He could play at being himself all day, play at being happy, play at being funny and charming and bubbly, but before going to bed he would be too tired to act, and he knew she could feel the weight of his shoulders dragging towards the floor, the inherent heaviness of the prison they called home.

He wondered how she could bear it, bear being a mother and a wife and so kind and funny and playful. She didn’t need to act, didn’t need to force herself to do anything; she just was. He envied her for that, but he loved her even more for it. Lily was unbelievably strong and this lack of freedom was his own weakness, not hers.

He watched her in the living room watching tv with Harry, laughing at some truly horrible cartoon jokes. He went and sat with them, sat there stewing in his anguish, his intensity, his melancholy, trying to radiate only the love he had for them and to exorcise all of the worst parts of him. She let her head fall on his shoulder and they sat there, in front of the tv, Mama, Dada, Son. A happy little family who loved each other above all else.

When it was time for Harry nap in the afternoon, James announced he was going to try and get some sleep too, since he had had a terrible night. Lily looked up at him from her book and smiled tenderly.

He got up to the sound of music (not the kind that made the hills come alive, but close enough) (Lily had showed him The Sound of Music last Christmas Eve, tucked up in bed at her parents’ house before Harry had been born.) Some Beatles song floated in the air coing from the radio in the kitchen, and it was like waking up and walking into a totally different dream. The house smelled of cookies, which Lily had made to entertain herself (she was a bit of a stress baker) and she was all dressed up, as well as little Harry. She wore a red dress without sleeves that showed off the freckles on her shoulders, a dress that absolutely clashed with her hair, currently up in an elegant bun on the top of her head. Harry had a shirt on that normally came with a tie gifted to him by his Aunt Petunia, but that Lily had let the tie lie in the back of his wardrobe. There was a bit of chocolate smeared at the corner of his mouth. Everything felt a little bit like magic.

‘Place your hand in mine,’ said Lily softly, holding out her palm for him. ‘Please, hold my hand.’

She twirled him, and he was still in his pajamas, which consisted of a big long-sleeved grey shirt and plaid bottoms, all mussed up hair and hoarse voice. She looked like a princess, and when she turned, the skirt of the dress swished with her every movement. Little Harry could barely stand, but James took his hands in his and tried to get him not to lose his balance, swaying just lightly enough for it to be considered dancing. Finally, he took him in his arms and placed his other hand on Lily’s waist, slow dancing to upbeat and slow songs alike.

There was a bubble, a bubble of magic, but not the kind of magic he was used to. This was different. This was the only kind of magic the Muggles ever knew, but from his perspective it didn’t look all that bad.

And so they danced.

#evey writes #training prompts tuesday #jily fic #jily #training prompts #godric’s hollow #james potter #lily evans #harry potter

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blackmissfrizzle · 4 years

Text

Wrong Bitch

Pairing: Angel Reyes x black!reader

Summary: Based on this imagine

Warnings: Petty Angel & reader, smut

Gif credit: @angels-reyes

“Didn’t I tell you that last time?”

“Nope, wrong bitch. Must’ve been one of your other girlfriends.” You lied, knowing full well Angel just told you last week he didn’t like you hanging out with Nestor or Miguel.

Angel inhaled a deep breath and clutched his fists. Ever since you left the bar you have been trying him and he didn’t know how long he could last. Your mouth kept running a mile a minute like he wouldn’t spank your ass raw.

“I don’t have time for this, Y/N. Just stay the fuck away from them!” Angel demanded as if he were king.

“Well, I have time today. You can’t tell me shit, I’m a grown ass woman. I do what I want whenever I want. So, if I wanna dance with my friend then damn it that’s what I’m gonna do.” Now you were in Angel’s space, your face close to his.

“Is that so?” Angel asked, leaning in closer to you.

“Yup.” You confidently said, crossing your arms and staring down at your annoyed boyfriend.

Excitement thrummed through you when you saw the flash of anger on Angel’s face. He was about to fuck you up and you were gonna enjoy every minute of it.

“Aight,” Angel simply said, going into the kitchen to get a beer.

“Aight?” You repeated, following him. That reaction was completely unexpected. You thought you would be bent over already.

Angel had to keep his smirk hidden, taking a sip of his beer. Maintaining his patience paid off and now you weren’t getting your way. A win-win situation.

“That’s all you got to say?”

Angel walked passed you in the doorway, his body close to yours that you could smell the beer on his lips. “Yeah. Remember you do whatever you want whenever you want, mami.”

Leaving you in shock, Angel went to go sit on the couch and watch tv. He pretended to laugh at the tv when he heard you grumbling and then plopping down on the far side of the couch.

Every so often Angel’s eyes would cut to you and he saw the same thing every time. Your arms, knees tucked into yourself, the same pout while you cuss him out under your breath. If it wasn’t so funny, he would’ve been fixed your attitude.

Missing touching you, Angel grabbed your ankle to massage your foot and scoot you closer to him, but you were resistant to it. “No, Angel. Leave me alone.”

“C’mon, you love my massages.” Angel pulled your ankle once again.

This time you kicked your foot to break his hold, but instead you accidentally kicked him in the face prompting you to double over in laughter.

Angel was gonna blow it over, but then you had to just go ahead and laugh. Too busy with crying your eyes out, you didn’t notice Angel get up until you felt a sharp pain at the back of your head, and you were on your knees.

“You think that’s funny?” Angel was unbuckling his belt with one hand while the other still had a firm grip in your hair. He pulled his magnificent dick out, but you didn’t have time to adore it because he pushed your head to his crotch, forcing you to take him all in.

It all took you by surprise, but once you were able to calm down you could breathe normally and enjoy the heavy feel of Angel in your mouth.

Gentleness was not in the plans for tonight. Angel kept his hands tight on your head making sure you went nowhere as he repeatedly shoved his dick down your throat.

“I should’ve done this earlier. Only way to keep your mouth shut is some dick in it.”

Angel tilted your head slightly for you to look at him and just like that you came. Your boyfriend was sex on legs. He tilted his own head back, rolled his eyes, and licked his lips.

When Angel finally looked down he saw you squirming around. He pulled away from you with a trail of saliva still connecting the two of you. “Did you just fucking cum?”

“I’m sorry, daddy.”

Angel dragged you to the couch and ordered you to stay put while he went into the room. When he returned he had the wand in his hand. You were getting giddy, because when the wand comes out, multiple orgasms are promised.

Before coming back to the couch, Angel turned on the DVD player, putting on one of your many sex tapes you made together.

“Siéntate.” Angel patted his lap. He took your pants and panties off before you sat in his lap.

Leaning over your shoulder, Angel admired your glistening wetness. He couldn’t help himself and had to give it a couple of smacks. “Fucking juicy ass pussy and it’s all mines. It’s mine right, querida?” Angel lowered his voice, tucking his head in the crook of your neck to nip at your chin.

“It’s all yours,” you declared.

“Damn right.” He growled right before he set the wand against your clit. The combination of the sex tape playing and the vibration of the wand had you writhing in pleasurable torture. It was becoming too much, you had to close your eyes.

“Nah, keep your fucking eyes open. Watch how good I fucked you. Don’t you want to be fucked like that again? All cock drunk and willing to do whatever I say.” Angel was on a roll. You knew he didn’t want you to answer, so you kept your mouth closed. “Oh, I love it when you’re like that, mami. All fucking needy and willing, and most importantly so fucking obedient for daddy. Where’s that girl at, baby? Where’s daddy’s good girl, hm?”

If it wasn’t for Angel’s quick hands, you would’ve fell off his lap after the intense orgasm washed over you. If necessary, this man could get you off with his voice alone but add in the erotic video and that damn wand, and you turn into a waterfall.

You thought you would get a reprieve, but Angel put the toy back on your weeping core. “Angel, no more.” You begged, trying to run away, but there was nowhere to go.

“Don’t you wanna be a good girl?” Angel was teasing you now, it was all in his voice. He wanted you over the edge, begging, coming to him because you knew he was the only one able to grant you that release.

You weren’t gonna let him get the best of you. Clinging to your last bit of defiance, you shot back at him. “Angel, if you don’t shut up and fuck me then get the fuck off me and let me find someone to finish the job.”

That little jab got your boyfriend to flip the switch. His features darkened as he laid you down and slammed into you. His hand automatically went around your throat, instinctively making you squeeze around him.

“You always got to pop off at the mouth. Keep it up and I’ll fuck one of those other putas you’ve been talking about.” Angel teased, knowing you were just as possessive as him. He enjoyed the fury on your face and the frustration when you couldn’t do anything but take everything he was giving you.

Angel noticed you trying to wrap your legs around him, but he needed them wide for him to hit the angle he was reaching for. “Keep them legs open.” But he felt so good, you couldn’t comply, so Angel had to pin down your legs to keep them how he wanted them.

“I must be fucking the wrong bitch, because my girl is a grown ass woman and wouldn’t run from the dick.” Angel commented when he saw you trying to push him away.

“Fuck you, Angel.” You spat back which lack the venom you wanted, because of how good Angel was drilling into you. The mayan darkly chuckled as he digged your pussy out, claiming it as his.

This continued on forever until you were a weeping mess from the back to back orgasms Angel generously gave out. He was making sure you knew who own your body.

“Awww, look at my baby. The dick so good, I got you crying?” Angel mocked then leaned down to kiss your tears away.

At this point you threw your pride out the window. You begged Angel to stop, that you couldn’t take anymore, but he insisted that he knew you had one more in you and fortunately, he was right. In no time, Angel pulled out the most explosive orgasm of the night that you almost passed out, but Angel wasn’t having that, he needed you awake.

Angel hovered over you, proud of the number he did on you. “Now, next time I tell you not to do something, you’re gonna listen, right?”

“Nah, you got the wrong bitch.” You smiled weakly.

It looked like Angel needed to teach you another lesson.

Tags: @marvelmaree @chaneajoyyy @sadeyesgf @starrynite7114 @angrythingstarlight @woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sparklemichele @thickemadame @ifoundmyhappythought @dearsamcrobae @titty-teetee

#angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x black!reader #angel x reader #angel x black!reader #black!reader #mayans mc #mayans mc fandom #mayans fandom #mayans #mayans mc fanfic #angel reyes fanfic #frizzlefic #frizzlesfic #frizzlewrites

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rentsturner · 3 years

Text

Grump | Mark Renton

I would like to request a oneshot with Rents 💙 with the 10 and 11 fluff prompts 😊 Congratulations on 500 followers! 🤗 / @arianalilyblack 10 - cuddling in bed on a rainy day, 11 - sharing the same headphones

wc: 1.3k

Author’s note: I haven’t written in ages so idk what this is gonna be like but i did love writing it; i missed writing for rents and its pretty fluffy

Warnings: Mark Renton x gn!reader, liv attempting to write soppy shit. Oasis (lyrics in italics). British weather.

Typical British weather. That specific type of rain, a drizzle that wasn’t heavy enough to feel too wet, but standing in it for over two minutes would leave you soaked through. This effect was worsened, of course, by the wind, which chilled you to the bones in seconds. Yes. Typical British weather, a constant drip-drop against the windows.

There had been a mutual decision between you and Mark to stay inside that morning, sheltered from the rain in the relative warmth of your tiny rented apartment. It was bare, no furnishings except for a small sofa and TV, a few vinyls and Renton’s treasured turntable, an old bed frame with a worn mattress than you had managed to put together on another rainy day similar to this one. It wasn’t much, that was for sure, but it had been home for the past few months. The small TV propped up in the corner was buzzing away, showing some old rerun of Top Of The Pops that was boring the fuck out of you.

Mark snatched the remote up from the bed with a huff and turned the tv off.

You turned to him with a raised eyebrow. He usually didn’t mind Top Of The Pops, occasionally humming along to the songs. But not today, apparently.

“Grump.”

He laughed at your insult, throwing the remote off the end of the bed, and stretching his bare arms up to rest behind his head. He was shirtless - this wasn’t unusual. Mark’s favourite outfit was just his boxers when it was just you and him in the apartment.

“Fucking annoying me, wasn’t it?”

You smiled. “Like I said. Grump.”

He sighed again, corners of his mouth lifting up in a small smirk.

“Doesn’t matter if I’m a grump. You’ll love me anyway.”

He had a point, but you weren’t gonna tell him that.

Renton leaned over and picked up his battered but trusty old Walkman, which was lying on the floor from last night. Sometimes he put some music on to help him sleep, some Lou Reed or New Order maybe, just quietly so the constant rhythm would settle him down. You didn’t complain - he had good taste and there wasn’t one song on his favourite mixtape that you disliked.

He untangled the headphones carefully, as careful as he was with all his music paraphernalia. He treasured it, more than anything else than he owned, that was for sure. It seemed like a ritual to Mark, when you watched him put the tape it and turn it on. The same with the record player - carefully holding the vinyl, setting it gently onto the turntable, dropping the needle just right so it was a smooth introduction into the sound, adjusting the speed if he needed to. All practiced movements, something to focus all his attention on.

He offered you one earbud with a steady hand. “Come on, close your eyes. Trust me.”

Of course you trusted him. He was the only thing that really mattered to you at this point. You and Mark Renton against the fucking world. That had been your life for the last few years, hopping between rented rooms and apartments, ever since you had both ran away from home - you on a whim to get out of your small hometown and find adventure, Mark in a desperate attempt to escape the clutches of one Francis Begbie after a ‘business deal gone wrong’. Or so he’d told you. It was obvious there was more to the story than that, but if Mark didn’t want to tell you then that was his choice. The past was in the past, and you were both happy to leave it there.

So you took the earbud, making sure it fitted comfortably, then lay down next to Mark. He rolled over so that he was leaning on his elbow, swinging his leg over and hooking it over your knee so he could pull you closer, your face now only centimetres from his. You could count every eyelash framing those beautiful blue eyes, every freckle dotted on his smooth skin.

You reached out your hand to stroke it over his cropped hair, the strands feeling spiky as you moved one way over them, soft and fuzzy as you moved back. But Mark grabbed your hand gently, bringing your knuckles to his lips and pressing a kiss to them. It was soft, softer than the fluffy tufts of hair at the base of his neck, softer than the pale skin in the crook of his elbow.

“Close your fucking eyes,” he whispered, smiling, his eyes bright, twinkling.

You did. The opening melody of a song started playing through the headphones, acoustic and slow, immediately familiar and comforting.

Sitting on my own, chewing on a bone, a thousand million miles from home

The lyrics alone stirred up so many emotions in you, a longing, mourning almost for time that you had lost, a nostalgia for years gone by. But it also made you happy, optimistic for your future, grateful that you had Mark to share it with.

You felt a light touch on your hand, so gentle that you wouldn’t have noticed it if you’d had your eyes open. But then Mark’s fingers fumbled with yours, noticeably shakier than earlier, and you curled your hand around his, letting him hold you, feel you.

I wanna talk tonight, until the morning light

You felt Mark’s gaze on you, a sixth sense. Blinking, your eyes adjusted quickly to the light and you took in Mark’s face. You were right, he was focused on you (little shit, making you close your eyes but not doing it himself). But his eyes were a little bleary, glistening as if there were unshed tears waiting there.

about how you saved my life

He squeezed your hand at the end of the line. It was purposeful, the look in his eyes making you think that it wasn’t coincidental that he’d chosen that moment.

You couldn’t always tell what Mark was thinking. Sometimes he’d be sat right next to you, but his mind was back in the past, deliberating over moments and decisions that were privy only to him. You never pried, just waited, because you were sure that one day he’d let you in.

And today, you could see exactly what he was thinking. The grip of his hand tight on yours, the intensity of his gaze and the love in those blue eyes, love that Mark rarely showed so blatantly, so vulnerably. He was saying thank you.

“Rents..” you started to speak, but his finger was on your lips before you could finish, urging you not to speak. The music was still playing but you weren’t listening, all your attention now on Mark.

His lips moved slowly. No sound came from him, but you could make out the words just fine. Those three words that had only been ever said jokingly between the two of you, but you had wished for them to mean more, those three words that you had hoped for, but never expected. A warmth blossomed in your chest, ten times stronger than the effect of an Oasis song, because you knew that this time, Mark meant it. He meant it, and that was all that mattered.

Mirroring his earlier movement, you hooked your leg behind his and used it to pull yourself in closer to his body, so your chests were pressed against each other, the light smattering of his auburn chest hair ticklish on your skin. You could feel his pounding heart faintly against your skin, his eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks when he blinked.

Squeezing Mark’s hand as tightly as you could, in reassurance to him or to steady yourself, you weren’t sure, and whispered softly against his lips.

“I love you too, grump.”

*~*~*~*~

Tags : @star-whores-a-new-hoe @rubysnips @funkytxwn @callmearwen @ohhellokenobi @profkenobi @stardancerluv @goldenkenobi @a-seeker-of-imagination @saintlaurentkenobi @million-dollar-legs @imafatassmess @i-am-i-am-obiwankenobi @letmybabysleep @junkieboyfriend @haydens-moles @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @drinksomecoco

#mark renton x reader #mark Renton #mark renton imagine #ewan mcgregor #trainspotting #mark renton #scotland #mark renton headcanons #mark renton x gn!reader #my writing #livs 500 follower celebration

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birdy-bat-writes · 4 years

Text

Lovesick

Word count: 1.9k

Summary: Damian wants to confess to you but he sees someone leaving your apartment. The night goes by with him trying to get a hold of his feeling and try to express them.

Warnings: Intense fluff and some cheesiness.

Pairing: Damian x Gender-neutral reader

Thanks. @anothertimdrakestan for last night’s conversation that inspired this and thank you @animefangurl1981 for calling me a “fluffy bitch” because you were right :) Enjoy some fluff people!!!

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Today was the day. Damian Wayne decided he was going to tell you how he felt about you. He didn’t know what prompted him to do something like this tonight, out of the blue but he was ready to. He didn’t take a car, just began walking to your building. The walk turned into a jog when it started to drizzle and then rain. He reached the gate, butterflies in his stomach, and then he saw you hugging a man. The butterflies now felt like bullets striking into him. Who is that?

"You sure you don't want me to drive you there?" He heard you ask. Damian’s heart shattered.

"Stop worrying I'll be fine. I'll text you when I get home." Damian turned away with an ache in his chest and just stood there in the pouring rain. The man’s car passed through the gateway and he glowered at its tires as it drove away. He marched around the building and paced around the lobby for maybe the thirty minutes. The heat radiating off of his body from sheer anger was enough to keep the cold at bay.

"What are you doing out here?!" He turned to find you in your pajamas, brightly colored rain boots and a big umbrella over your head. He had thousands of thoughts going through his head and he wanted to scream, shout, say anything. He wanted to confess, demand to know who just left your apartment and scream at the sky all at once but for some reason, the ability to speak flew out the window as soon as he saw you standing in front of him wide eyed, concerned and confused. He didn't like seeing you upset or worried in any way, and in his head and heart, that took priority over what he had to say. He realized he had been standing there for nearly 10 seconds without saying a word, so he mustered up to the strength to say something when, "You are going to catch a cold, you absolute Muppet!" You grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him up the stairs. "Its 40 degrees Fahrenheit! And raining! What are you doing here and why didn't you come up to the apartment? You’re soaked." The questioning continued all the way up with only short, curt answers from him. His voice softened slightly when you stopped talking and just looked at him with genuine worry.

"I'm fine, Y/N I just wanted to see you. I got stuck in the rain." There was way more to that than he was letting on and you knew it. He even knew that you knew it, but the great thing about being best friends is that you knew when not to pry, and you both knew that when he was ready, he would tell you. Right now, your main concern was getting him out of these wet clothes and into something warmer. You appeared in front on him with a towel in hand.

"Take off your shirt."

"What?" Evidently, you didn’t realize how that sounded.

"Actually, just go have a warm shower, you already look like you've caught a cold." You handed him the towel. Everything from the way he stood stiff as a board to the way he couldn't meet your eyes gave away his intense agitation. With a softer voice, you continued, "I’ll leave some dry clothes on the bed. After that we can watch movies or just talk. What are we feeling tonight? Chinese take-out? Italian?" The corners of your mouth turned up a little at the end. It was clearly contagious because he looked up a little and said with a slight smirk,

"Y/N, who would pick Chinese over Italian?" You smiled back at him and walked off to place the order while he walked over to your bathroom. It wasn't until the warm water hit his skin that he realized how cold he really felt. Most people think and let their mind wander while they shower but all Damian needed right now was to clear his head. A good 20 minutes later, he stepped out and saw a black sweatshirt and a pair of gray sweatpants on your bed, complete with a pair of rainbow tube socks. He shook his head in amusement, knowing that you picked the rainbow ones on purpose. After getting dressed, he stepped in front of the mirror and raked his fingers through his still wet hair, taking notice of how familiar this sweatshirt looked. Deciding not to dwell on it, he made his to the living room.

"Good news, the Italian place delivers so it should be- why is your hair still wet?"

"Tt, it will dry soon enough." You just looked at him blankly and sighed. He watched you walk right past him and into your bedroom and return with a hairdryer and his damp towel in hand. You motioned for him to sit down on the couch and plugged the dryer into the outlet.

"We can watch 101 Dalmatians if you want" He scrunched up his face while you jostled the towel around his head. It was actually quite funny.

"We can watch anything you want." You turned the dryer on and hovered it over his head, making sure to gently hold his forehead so hair didn't fly on it.

"Lion King then, also, I think you have a fever. Your forehead is warm."

"It’s probably the heat from the dryer you're feeling."

"Deny it all you want, but remember if I don't take care of you, Alfred will. There's no escape." His body relaxed slightly, and you took this opportunity to lay his head back against your stomach, lightly combing through his dark locks with your fingers.

Ever since Damian saw that man, he had been a little broken. Nothing felt right with the world. The world was right when you would hug him and hold on tighter when you thought he would let go, and when you laughed so hard you would stumble, the world was right when you were with him and when he was with you because you were, are and will always be his world. Things still weren't clear, and he didn't yet have the courage to ask about the man, but for now, your hands in his hair and your sarcasm were enough to bring him comfort. You turned off the dryer when his hair was dry and combed the front slightly to the side. When you moved in front of him to admire your work, you had to bite back a laugh. His hair wasn't in its usual tame form, but instead slightly wavy and very fluffy, with tufts of it sticking up in every direction.

Eventually you couldn't hide your laughter which caused Damian to toss a pillow at you!

"Alright, what did you do to my hair?"

“I dried it!” He started walking up to holding another pillow when the doorbell rang. Saved by the bell.

You laid the food out on the table and picked up your boxes, opting to eat in front of the TV. Damian took the spot next you with his food and started flipping through networks until he found Disney+. Various dramatizations of Hakuna Matata, and a few “Fight me’s” later, you both put away your boxes and sat back down. He noticed the way you huddled close to him and pulled a blanket over the two of you. Warmth coursed through your body and you felt yourself relax. He expected you to move away but instead, you rested one arm on his chest and pulled your body closer to his. "Dami, are you okay?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You just didn't seem yourself today."

"Y/n, who's clothes are these?"

"The sweatpants are my brother's and the sweatshirt is yours actually. Well, was yours. It's mine now."

"Hold on, mine?"

“It was that one time we had dinner at your place, when my shirt tore. And I was hiding upstairs so no one would see it and then you came and asked me what was wrong and when I told you, you gave me this. When I wore it, you took me back downstairs and complained-"

"That no one there was fun to talk to except for you." You breathed out and smiled against the soft material of the sweatshirt.

"I offered to give it back once, but you told me I could keep it. I love this thing." You couldn't see it but Damian was looking down at you with a smile. How can a person be so cute? No wonder that man was here. Anyone would fall for you.

"Y/N, there was a man here earlier, right?" You raised your head up in question.

"Yeah. My brother stopped by today for lunch." Hold the phone. Brother?!

"Your brother...?"

"He’s going on a business trip tonight, so he spent some time here before he left. How did you know?"

"I saw his car leave." He sniffled. Oh my gosh it made sense now! If you were seeing someone you would have told him. There was nothing for him to worry about now.

"Y/N-"

"I'll be right back." you said, getting up. A few short minutes later, you arrived with a thermometer, cough drops, cold medicine, tissues and vapo- rub.

"Ok, put the vapor rub on your chest, and say ah."

"This is undignified."

"I could always call Alfred." With and eye roll, he opened his mouth. 100 degrees.

"You have a fever." To be honest, he had a bit of a headache, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. And he had tissues for the leaking nose. In all honesty, Damian did not want to admit that he was sick, nor that he got sick because of his stubbornness and silliness. "You're spending the night over. Want me to put some spare blankets in the guest Room?"

"I appreciate it, but you don't have to do all of this. I can take care of myself."

"I know you can, but you don't have to all the time. And besides you'd do the same for me if I was sick. Plus, more scolding and more blankets." Your generosity always astounded him. You were one of the few people who didn't make help seem like charity and he trusted you enough to be vulnerable around you because you never made him feel weak. You always lifted each other up, and he loved that.

"Thank you."

“You're more than welcome." You said, dabbing some vapor rub on his nose and hugging him once more. His hand instinctively went up your head and stroked your hair.

"Y/n do you like someone?"

"Yeah, do you?

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Do you?"

"Yes."

“Who?”

"I asked you first!" It wasn't normal for him to pull a card like that.

"Ok, pinky promise, I'll tell you if you me." He just looked at your hand on his chest, uncurled your fingers and slide them between his, gently rubbing the side of your thumb.

"You."

"Really?" He felt your voice shake and stopped.

"Who's yours?"

"You." The two of you sat there in an exasperated silence. You were both happy and speechless. The silence was broken by a sneeze, courtesy of Damian. "Bless you."

"I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

“You didn’t tell me!”

“How long?”

“A while. How about you?”

“Long enough to fall in love with you.”

"I probably love you more." You challenged, blushing.

"Not-" your lips were on his. He let himself melt into you. The kiss was slow but deep, conveying the years of yearning and love you had for one another. Then his better judgement kicked it and he pulled away. "You'll get sick."

"I don't care, I just really had to kiss you."

"Oh god, you're so cheesy.”

"You love it, love bug."

"No." He laughed out.

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Taglist: @anothertimdrakestan

#damian wayne #damian al ghul #damian wayne fluff #damian wayne fanfiction #dc comics #dc fluff #cute #fluff #romance #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x reader #lovebug #batfam #batbros #gender netural reader #damian wayne x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader

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thevioletjones · 3 years

Note

48. “You make me want things I can’t have.” 💜

Thanks for the inspiration! 💜

Prompt 3

Buffer

Ian Gallagher was starting to become a problem.

And the worst part about it was that he wasn’t even a problem that Mickey wanted to resolve. No. He just kept holding Ian closer and refusing to push him away like he should. He was just letting him ruin Mickey’s mediocre life. Because something about Ian was unshakeable. It wasn’t just that Ian kept coming back no matter what Mickey ever said or did, either. Ian was definitely persistent, but Mickey had formed an attachment too, even though he did everything in his power to hide it. It was still there, buried under layers of caustic remarks, aloof expressions, and occasional lashing out. He wasn’t proud of his behavior, but it was just who he was, and remaining unchanged in his ways was easier than the alternative.

Ian was definitely too good for him. Sure, he was hood trash too, but they were on two different levels. Ian was buffed up with a certain surface shine that Mickey lacked. Although, he would admit he’d come a long way in his style and hygiene game since his early days as an unwashed miscreant. Mickey was a gay man after all, and not immune to gaying certain things up, despite his tendency to flout homo conventions. If he wanted the ability to get a decent dick in his ass, there were standards that he’d learned to push himself to meet. This was the glossiest Mickey was ever gonna get, and it still came with a pinch of grime and hostility.

Maybe he’d developed enough sense to give a fuck, but he still didn’t give two shits either; a concept that walking contradictions the world over could likely comprehend.

The thing about Gallagher was that he was sweet. Not in an annoying, cloying, obvious way that was anathema to everything Mickey was about, but in a low-key, casual, incidental kind of way that somehow managed to be attractive, even to someone with Mickey’s abrasive nature. Ian played tough, and he genuinely was in many ways, but he had a gooey, marshmallow center that evened him out. Mickey didn’t see himself as having that sort of balance.

But there were these unsettling moments like this, usually in the middle of the night or early in the morning, when Mickey would catch himself watching Ian unawares. Unawares because he only ever did it when the redhead was deep in sleep. Suddenly, Mickey would be Mr. Contemplation, burning a hole into the face of the dude he was banging, daring to wonder what could happen between them if he wasn’t an emotionally stunted asshole. And then he’d reflect on what Ian’s life was like whenever he wasn’t around; the things Mickey acted like he didn’t care to know.

These circular thought patterns never led anywhere good, because at the end of the day, Ian wasn’t his. And Mickey could never be Ian’s. He’d long ago resigned himself to a certain destiny that involved long-term solitude until his dying day, which he’d always been fairly certain would come prematurely and most likely in violent fashion. It would be ridiculous to drag someone else into his vortex of apathy for life and the general traditions of living it. Especially someone like Ian, who was good; who helped people because he genuinely cared about, like, the well-being of humanity and shit. Despite the occasional soft look or revelatory comment that Ian would throw his way, he knew better than to think he’d want to be saddled with Mickey’s non-reciprocating ogre-y ass.

Usually when one of these intense, one-sided staring sessions would take place, Mickey would overcompensate for silently slipping by adding an extra dose of rudeness when he kicked Ian out after the fact. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure why Gallagher still bothered with him. It wasn’t like he couldn’t get laid elsewhere. Ian was the type that would never have trouble finding a willing ass. Yet somehow he kept coming back to Mickey and ignoring all the negatives thrown in his path. It didn’t make much sense on either of their parts… allowing each other in on any terms. Probably meant that Ian was just as fucked up as he was, really.

Blowing out the last hit off his smoke, Mickey glanced at the bedside clock and stubbed out the cigarette butt. 3:26 AM and he was wide awake, just gawking at his slumbering ginger fuck buddy, and trying to repress the multitude of emotions swirling within him. It was truly pathetic.

He could just get the hell up and drag his ass to the living room to play video games or watch late-night TV, but no. Apparently he liked suffering and feeling conflicted. What a pussy.

Not ten minutes went by before there was slow movement from the other side of the bed... Ian turning over in his sleep, reaching an arm out, and searching. Searching for the warmth of Mickey’s body, it would seem.

A big hand landed on his thigh, rubbing it softly as tired eyes blinked open, and a groggy voice sounded, “What’re’y’doin’?”

Oh, just fuckin’ lying here starin’ at your pasty ass for some reason. “Can’t sleep.”

“Didn’t wear you out?” Ian asked with a breathy titter, squeezing the sensitive flesh precariously close to Mickey’s groin.

Maybe it made his dick twitch a little.

“When did one round ever wear me out?”

“Pretty sure there were two rounds. Did you forget about the couch?”

“Random handies while watchin’ mediocre porn barely counts as a round, carrot-top.”

“A, it wasn’t that mediocre, and B, do you only consider it sex if penetration is involved?”

“I mean… it helps.”

“What about blowjobs, then? How would you classify them?”

“Sex act, but not sex, sex. Know what I mean?”

Ian laughed. “Not really. What about lesbians?”

“Definitely don’t wanna have my cock anywhere near those.”

“Har har. I mean, what would you call lesbian sex?”

“Gross? Boring? I don’t fuckin’ know. Never had it, don’t plan to.”

Ian laughed harder and it made Mickey feel good. “Pretty sure lesbians don’t want fuck all to do with you either, bottom boy.”

“Hey, likin’ what I like don’t make me a bitch.”

“No, but you seem pretty hostile toward anything but a real live human cock poking you in the asshole. I mean, naysaying getting your dick sucked? That’s a bold bossy bottom stance to take.”

“What can I say? I’m a simple man with simple kinks. Aren’t you glad I don’t need any freaky extra shit to get me off?”

“What kinda freaky extras are we talkin’?”

“Fuck off, Gallagher. Don’t act like you don’t just live for stickin’ that big red dick inside any tight manhole that’ll accommodate it. Does that make you a hungry top just begging for it?”

“I prefer ‘brutal top,’ since it’s so big, as you were so kind to mention.”

Mickey rolled his eyes into tomorrow. “Gotta remember to stop accidentally complimenting it. You get so fuckin’ uppity about it.”

Ian rolled over and boxed him in, nuzzling around his face and neck, while Mickey tried to bat him away.

“Come on,” prodded Ian. “Big hard cock seeks tight little hole for another round of deep penetration.”

Mickey could feel said big hard cock firming right up against his hip. “Ixnay on the cutesy man seeking man dirty talk, fuckhead. I will make you take that hulking boner elsewhere.”

“No you won’t,” Ian replied, humping down against him.

Of course he wouldn’t, but he had to front at least a little bit. That was the nature of his inner beast.

While they were fucking, Mickey could just let himself get lost in all the appropriate heightened sensations that really good sex immersed him in. Immersed him and Ian in. Ian and him. Them. Reveling in the pleasure of carnality was totally kosher… as long as it limited him from basking in that additional Ian stuff. That feelings stuff that he had no idea what to do with. That unfathomable connection that existed between them.

He let Ian kiss him a lot too. Like, a lot, a lot. That wasn’t customary for him with other dudes. In fact, it barely ever happened. It was just another habit Ian had slipped under the wire to form with him when he wasn’t paying enough attention. Mickey was pretty sure he’d kissed more girls in his life than boys, because that was always an easy, less disgusting way to publicly appear straight during the years he’d spent in the closet. With guys, there was nothing to prove and everything to hide, so it just wasn’t something he incorporated into his casual sex routine.

Before Ian, he hadn’t exactly attracted the kind of dudes that warranted sticking around for in any capacity, or who made any kind of effort to stick with him. There were never any near-miss boyfriends, or pine-worthy hookups. Sex was always transactional and he’d been perfectly fine with that arrangement.

The truth was that once he’d fucked up and invited Ian in for repeats over and over again, he started to figure out that the sex just kept getting hotter and hotter. That when two bodies really took the time to get to know each other, things fit better, motions got smoother, and orgasms got a thousand times stronger. Turned out that one-night-stands were not where the fuck it was at. Those were always crapshoots with odds that were at best 25/75 in favor of mediocrity. With Ian, it was guaranteed total fulfillment 100% of the time.

That was the only explanation he could find for this unexpected addiction he was stuck with. An addiction to Ian and his stupidly perfect cock. The rest of his body was alright too. And when he spoke, he wasn’t completely fucking annoying. His personality and his nature were tolerable. Mickey didn’t want to gouge his eyes out every time he got sucked into a conversation.

They didn’t really hang out, though. Outside of the bedroom, that is. It was like the whole game changed when they were in bed. They could fuck, they could goof around and have a laugh, they could wrestle, they could accidentally say something profound once in a while… but if Ian had a bag of food when he dropped by, Mickey wasn’t about to sit on the couch and watch TV with him while he ate it, and he definitely wasn’t going to accept a portion for himself.

Until tonight, that is. Or last night, or however the fuck time was identified when you were a natural night owl.

Tonight, they’d crossed another invisible line in the sand, and Mickey had found himself chowing down on tacos, while heckling some shitty 90s action film; his part-time lover chuckling next to him with a sloppy mouth.

It was fucking terrifying.

So as soon as he’d realized what was actually happening, and how much he didn’t hate it, Mickey had switched over to some hardcore porn. They’d cracked jokes about it at first, but it’d done the trick of quickly leading to the familiar comfort of sexual gratification. With that justification, Mickey could just sweep the whole ‘watching a movie and eating together like they were on a date’ thing under the proverbial rug without further examination.

At least until Ian had fallen asleep around 2 AM. Then it was dwell city.

By 4:30 AM, Ian had fucked him into the mattress once again, and promptly fallen back asleep without a care in the world. Mickey was more than sated, but felt even more awake than he had an hour ago, his brain full of fresh bullshit about the man next to him and what was happening between them.

He opened his bedside drawer and pulled out his stash, knowing the high would fog up his brain enough to go off on thought tangents, and eventually shut down for at least five hours. Within ten minutes, he felt a little better, or at least more distracted. He was still very aware of Ian’s looming presence in the darkness, though. He wanted to be comforted by it, but he just couldn’t relax.

There’d always been a buffer between them, which Mickey had been diligent in maintaining, and he could see it slowly falling away now. If he didn’t step up and push back, pretty soon there’d be no barrier left standing. Who the fuck knew what could happen then.

He hated it. He felt so fucking out of control, when it should be the easiest thing in the world to control. All he had to do was break it off. He knew exactly what to say and do to make that happen. Knew enough to be able to really hit Ian where it hurt, both literally and figuratively.

But goddamn it, he didn’t want to.

He didn’t want to make Ian sad, and he didn’t want to give into his own desire to try for more. He would always fuck it up, because he was a fuck-up by nature. His goddamn knuckles spelled it all out in block letters.

He wanted Ian, but he didn’t want the responsibility. Didn’t trust himself, because no one had ever trusted him before in his entire life. What kind of dumbass wanted that kind of damaged douchebag for a boyfriend? No sane one.

Against his better judgment, Mickey rolled closer to Ian and wrapped an arm around his middle, spooning him the way he secretly liked it when Ian spooned him. He held him close and breathed in his scent.

“You make me want things I can’t have,” he murmured to himself, exhaling heavily against Ian’s neck.

He fell asleep swiftly, and in the morning, he didn’t ask Ian to leave.

#ian x mickey #fanfic #gallavich #fanfiction #asks #answers

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