#[[first one is from the early part of their relationship. probably right after confessing. second could be at several points!]] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

1kook · 4 years ago

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crunchyroll & rail

the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !

SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality, RATING m (18+) WC 8.7k

NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….

Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast.

Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.

In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office.

To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5.

He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”

Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses.

Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful.

You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.”

Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.”

“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.”

It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking.

You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever.

And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours.

Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together.

(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.)

Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be.

You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you.

Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber.

Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend.

The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary.

You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days.

But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.

(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.)

The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like.

According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites.

You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?”

You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.”

You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind.

Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”

For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into.

“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway.

He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin.

“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear.

“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass.

You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you.

The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.

The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak.

Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead.

And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat.

Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts.

They go like this:

Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really.

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively.

In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once.

“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you.

It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome.

Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve.

The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek.

His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts.

“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.”

He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles.

The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild.

“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums.

“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again.

But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning.

Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.”

Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“

“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment.

“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“

“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, “yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him.

His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned.

There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.”

Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.”

Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.”

A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.”

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“—

The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear.

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.

Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer.

Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”

“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”

It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole.

“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips.

“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise.

He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath.

Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.

“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes.

It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue.

It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger. “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…”

You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?”

He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles.

“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over.

Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”

The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.

It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more.

Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them.

You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub.

Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor.

Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face.

In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention.

Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?

“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock.

“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand.

His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane.

It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh.

Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be.

You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds.

With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter.

You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic.

“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock.

He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you.

Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip.

You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl.

It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”

You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully.

Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?

Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.

“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.

Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”

“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin.

Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said.

It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away.

Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“

“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself.

You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you.

He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”

Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”

You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once.

“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.

He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth.

“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets.

True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you’ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever.

You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries.

It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”

“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you.

Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”

Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question.

That’s how you know he’s a keeper.

It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest.

“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”

Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”

You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”

A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.

You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.

Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”

Definitely Namjoon.

#networkbangtan #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook #Jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader smut #bts fic #bts smut #mine

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nevergonnasimpyoumikey · 2 years ago

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@trikeysworld asked if I've written a confession/first kiss Trikey scene, and I realized that I REALLY tend to gravitate more towards established relationship stuff or the complicated fucking history route... So I tried my hand at a confession scene! Maybe not as cute as I first thought I'd do but hopefully it'll do :D

***

The first time Michael tried ecstasy, he came to realize it wasn’t his drug at all.

At first it didn’t feel like anything so he compensated with beer. Then it got fun and they found a couple of girls to dance with, the music completely taking over his body and making him drift away from his best friend.

The longing hit him when he realized that Trevor was no longer next to him, and after that, his gaze was constantly drawn to him over the people between them. The lack of attention made the girl scoff at him and choose some other guy, and usually Michael would not have let that happen, but this time he barely even noticed. A few seconds later he’d already forgotten what she looked like.

He had thought about Trevor a lot recently, yeah, of course he had, but he never planned to act on it. He figured the feelings would pass. It was just the novelty of having someone he liked in his life, right? But he couldn’t look away, even stopping in the middle of the dance floor, getting bumped into by some assholes; he stumbled but stayed upright, and their eyes finally met, Trevor’s filled with confusion. He pushed the people aside and made his way to Trevor, yanked him away from his girl, asking him to leave early.

The fuck, why, Trevor groaned, and Michael couldn’t do much else but shrug, unable to explain the feeling wreaking havoc in him. He felt it in his stomach, making a home for itself and demanding attention. The yearning, one he couldn’t embrace if they were out in public.

Trevor agreed, seeming to think he’d reacted badly to the drug. It wasn’t that far from the truth if you asked Michael. They walked back to the motel, and Trevor asked if he was okay, and instead of dismissing the question as too personal, he couldn’t stop talking, thoughts he’d never shared with anyone before just pouring out of his mouth; how he was okay but felt guilty for not calling his mother for months but not enough to actually call her yet, how he missed her but not enough to go back because his father was there. How he had never fulfilled his pop’s expectations, which was ridiculous because he was a piece of shit who had never achieved anything in his life, and he hit him and her both, trying to beat it out of him—

Beat what out of you, Trevor finally interrupted, having stayed uncharacteristically quiet the whole time, listening with wide eyes. Marveling at him opening up, he was sure.

You know, he said, the rest of the sentence getting stuck somewhere, replaced by an intense stare. You get it, right?

Trevor didn’t, not yet, or maybe he just didn’t say it out loud, but the safety of the motel room made all the difference. Michael sat on Trevor’s bed, not even taking off his jacket, leg bouncing nervously, staring until Trevor sat down, as well. And Trevor… the roughness of his hair when Michael grabbed a fistful of it, the hitching of his breath… Michael shuffled closer, swallowing heavily. You get it, right?

Trevor did, and Michael quickly clawed his way under his shirt, needing to feel skin, needing to devour Trevor, the man he called his best friend because anything else scared the shit out of him, but he stopped when he heard a faint whisper.

You’re just high.

And Michael explained while running his lips along Trevor’s neck, littering it with kisses. Yeah, he was probably higher than ever, or at least it felt different, but his thoughts were still his and he’d been thinking about this for a long time now, and he’d never had anything like them before, someone he could trust completely and reveal this part of himself to.

If Trevor ever answered, Michael didn’t remember it the next morning when he woke up in the embrace of his best friend.

#My fics #Trikey #Trikey fanfiction #Wanted to do Michael being the needy one for once

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memes-saved-me · 2 years ago

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You Could Have Saved Him (Part 1)

The last time Steve saw Billy alive was in the early morning of June 25th 1985. The air warm of summer flowing through the car with all the windows of the Camaro rolled down as they had sex in the back seat. Just the usual quick meet-up between work days that he looked forward to more than anything else going on in his life but this time felt different, or maybe that was because it was the last time and as a memory, it had become bittersweet. Even if that was the case, he still thought about the way Billy's hips rolled as if they were made to be on his dick and the sweat running down his neck as Steve kissed it, the way their eyes met as Steve came inside him and didn't move until Billy followed. Pants and moans, hushed curses and whispered names hidden in the darkness as they always were.

They were something. A rushed talk as Billy left his bedroom one night confirming it was a relationship and not just two boys getting off with no feelings because there was indeed something else going on between them. Something that lingered long after that night in the Camaro that Steve now longed for more than he had when Billy was still there. He knew that Billy loved him, Max had found a half-written confession in his things but Steve couldn't deal with the guilt that he had probably died thinking he didn't feel the same.

When March of 1986 began he noticed the nightmares worsening. What was once a twisted version of reality became almost too close to the real thing which to Steve was far more upsetting. He could tell himself none of that was real when it was exaggerated but when it was truly just Billy's last moments he couldn't help but relive it for the rest of the day. That was until his nightmares began to bleed into reality.

At first, he thought he was still asleep having just woken up and walked into his bathroom to fill his glass of water and return to bed only to hear something in his room. He shrugged it off but then he heard the sound of something being torn and so he cautiously he stepped back into his bedroom to see it was just as he left it until he turned to find part of his wallpaper by his bed had been ripped off but worse than that, there was something underneath it.

Written in what seemed to be dried blood was "You could have saved him" across the centre of the wall right there before his tired but now very much awake eyes. Shock set in and in a panic Steve stumbled back dropping the glass of water and falling backwards into his desk, knocking over half of the things placed on it in the process. Which made enough noise to wake his parents down the hall.

"Steven!" his father called from the hallway most likely outside their room and for a slip second Steve looked away from the wall and to his door.

"Sorry! It's okay I just walked into..," he replied but lost his voice when he turned back to see the words were gone. "...my desk."

His wall was just as it should be. Blank. Empty and untouched but something had truly broken inside which he wasn't sure would ever be fixed because whatever had written that was right. He just wasn't sure what to do with the fact he was seeing things until he was stood listening to Max describe her symptoms, all of which except for the clock matched his.

Even then, he kept quiet. Focused his worry on her as she was closer to Vecna's curse than he was. He knew Billy would want him to keep her safe more than anything and so he let himself slip the back of the line of priority.

That was until the night after Max had floated above Billy's grave, eyes white and so close to dying that they all rushed back to Nancy's to regroup he turned his head after waking to see it. Surrounded by snoring teenagers he heard the chimes of the same clock Max had described. Tears filled his eyes as he watched it tick away across the room until finally, he ran for the door.

The chimes gone, the clock gone but a need to do something he should have a long time ago was now the only thing he could think of. So, as his friends slept in the basement of his ex-girlfriend's home he drove off into the night knowing he might never come back but if he was going to die he had to do just what Max had. Say goodbye.

To be continued...

#harringroveweek #angst with a happy ending?#we will have to see because I am making this up as I go #but plan to put out part 2 and maybe 3 tomorrow and sunday #we will see #harringrove #writing #edit #also planning some sort of edit to go with this #silhouette or moodboard

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spencersawkward · 4 years ago

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*concussions and confessions//spencer reid*

summary: a near-death experience encourages Spencer to admit his feelings for his best friend, even at the risk of ruining their relationship.

pairing: Fem!Reader/Spencer

content warnings: oh boy there’s a lot. i’ll start with the nonsexual ones-- choking (again, not sexual), blunt force, violence, some angst. ok time for the fun ones-- unprotected penetrative sex, masturbation, sex dream, oral (male receiving), slight dirty talk, creampie. lmk if there are more that i missed!

word count: 5.4k

A/N: hi omg so i actually combined two requests for this bc i loved the concepts and i didn't wanna do one and not the other. i hope i do both of these justice hehe thanks for sending them! also sorry if the unsub scene sucks-- i don’t usually write that way, so i tried my best.

request(s): omg if you need ideas for baby spence can you do a one shot where he's the girls best friend (she's not in the bau) and they are in love but neither of them admit it and he is really hurt in a case or almost dies or something traumatic and only when he gets back they confess their love... and then have sex 😏 ive been thinking about this concept alot 😌

can’t stop thinking about baby spencer (like s2-s4) & his girl best friend losing their virginity to each other... can you write a one shot on this please?

masterlist

"when are you coming back?" you ask over the line. you're lying on your bed, legs in the air while you talk to your best friend. it's been a long day for you, but a longer day for him. it's always a longer day for him.

"you know that I don't know the answer to that question." Spencer's voice is soft as he attempts to keep quiet. he's two hours ahead and, despite the fact that you're both night owls, the person he's rooming with tonight isn't.

"I know, but there's this Korean film festival that starts tomorrow and I was hoping you would be here to translate for me." you examine your nails while you talk. Spencer lets out a disappointed sigh.

it's only been a few days since he left, but it's been a week since you last saw him and it feels like a long time. whenever he's not at work, you two are joined at the hip. ever since you first met a few years back at a poetry convention in DC, it feels like he's the only person who understands you. which is weird, because you couldn't be more different as individuals.

"you should bring one of your other friends."

"bold of you to assume I have other friends." you joke. Spencer chuckles to himself and your heart flutters. you love his laugh more than anything in the world.

"I thought that was just me." he says.

"oh, it is just you," you reply flatly. "I was trying to make you feel better."

you can practically feel Spencer smiling through the phone. although you tease him pretty frequently, he's sometimes able to get in his own shots. it's what makes your friendship interesting.

"hey," you add before he can say anything more. "how's the case going?"

Spence starts to detail the whole thing, and you listen intently, the timbre and smoothness of his voice comforting you as you slip beneath the covers of your bed. you like the way he enunciates his words, his strange manner of speaking, because it lulls you to sleep.

you know he's talking about horrible things, but something about the sound comforts you deeply. when he's not around, you're wishing you had it bottled up.

he lays out their profile as it stands, and you fall silent. it's getting pretty late and you have to be up early for work tomorrow, so it would be a good idea to get some real rest. plus, Spencer needs to sleep, too-- even though he probably won't.

you remember times when he'd call you at three in the morning, his mind whirring as he played chess against himself and asked if you wanted to hang out so he could teach you how. you hate chess, but of course you said yes; you'd been head over heels with him since your first conversation.

eventually, you feel yourself start to drift off. you don't even really know what he's saying; all of it blends together until you're laying there, one cheek pressed to the pillow and the receiver against the other.

"Y/N?" he says your name abruptly and your eyes, which have been slowly drawing shut this whole time, fly open.

"yeah?"

"go to bed."

"what? no, I'll wait until you're done." you shift.

"I could hear your breathing change."

"then why didn't you just hang up?" you giggle. he goes silent for a moment and you wonder if he cut out, but then he responds.

"I wanted to say goodnight."

it's like a cage of butterflies is unleashed in your stomach. you wrinkle your nose as you get nervous. god, you miss him. things would be so much better if he was back. not like he'd be in your bed even if he was, though.

"then say goodnight." you prod. he lets out an awkward little sound.

"now I can't because you made it weird."

"how did I make it weird?"

"I don't know, you just did." he's so clumsy, your face heats up. you want to keep talking like this until morning.

"goodnight, Spence," the words sound reluctant, but you try to cover it up by teasing him further. "see, was that so bad?"

"oh my god, Y/N--" he tries to sound exasperated.

"no goodnight back?" you raise an eyebrow even though he can't see you right now.

a lengthy silence again. "goodnight."

"that's what I thought." before he can protest, you end the call, settle into the covers. moonlight beams on the walls of your apartment, and you start to think about your best friend. about all the nights spent curled up on his couch with two bowls of popcorn, his ramblings about how much he loves his job and him asking about yours.

he's a great listener. every time you talk, he nods along like he's hanging off every word. it's nice to feel heard that way, to have someone care. and he's fun to hang out with, too. you've met his team before and they all talk about how hard it is to get him to go out, but they don't see the same side of him that you do.

Spencer is nerdy and cute and kind and sensitive. he makes you feel special. he's everything that you've ever wanted in a person. but it's not like it would matter, anyway. he hasn't really shown interest in any girls-- much less you. even if he did, you're scared of ruining the friendship.

the fallout of not having him around at all... it would destroy you. and something, even if it's torturous, is better than nothing.

which is why, as you sit there and remember being around him, your fingertips creep below the comforter. a familiar routine, they move over your stomach, until they reach the waistband of your panties. for a moment, you hesitate. it's wrong. he's your best friend. but he doesn't need to know that this is how you handle the ache he puts between your legs.

as your index finger slides down your slit, you feel the wetness already forming. Spencer's hands, his mouth. the thought of his lips pressed to yours while he fucks you, holding your body like it's delicate.

you don't know exactly how it would feel because you've never had sex, but you want to find out with him. he's never done it, either. you don't care; all you need is to have him inside of you, to see how he looks when he's on the edge.

your mind wanders to the image of him parting your legs and rolling his eyes into the back of his head. the sensation of him filling you up. falling apart.

you slide a finger inside, gasping at the way your walls tighten and your imagination runs wild. that tongue, lapping and making you squirm, your fingers twisted in his soft hair. he's so sweet; his attentiveness would make your legs shake. you want to look into his eyes while he does it.

you add a second finger, curl them and brush over the most sensitive part. the pressure of his hips grinding into yours. your body curves up at the way you start to finger yourself, the other hand stimulating your clit. it's almost overwhelming, the way his name tumbles from your lips over and over.

you've never wanted someone so badly in your life; he belongs in your bloodstream. the sounds he would make in your ear before finally cumming and collapsing on top of you, spent. you want to tire him out and then do it all over again.

you're greedy on the edge, indulging in every single image of him you can conjure up, every dirty thing you'd say. finally, you feel yourself fall, the orgasm intense as you bite back groans of pleasure and work through the high. it's amazing.

you sit there, panting, feeling your heart beat in your chest. some things can't leave your head, they're so sinful. and the worst part is that you don't regret it in the slightest.

...

Spencer can feel his pulse practically leaping against his throat as he makes his way through the empty warehouse. he should have waited for backup; he knows he should have, but it's too late now to go back and change things.

he clutches his gun, pointing it in front of him while his eyes flicker wildly across the space. he's moving between enormous aisles stuffed with crates, not knowing who else is around. they said the unsub brought his newest victim here-- Spencer came first because was closest to the site-- but he hears nothing aside from the uneven rhythm of his own breath.

every step is careful. he's thinking about how close the rest of the team must be. based on their distance from the station, they should arrive within six minutes-- but that doesn't account for the time it takes to put on their bulletproof vests, to get to their cars.

truthfully, he doesn't know if he's going to have to do this on his own. and that scares him the most.

there's no point in worrying. he swallows the lump in his throat and presses his back to one of the crates. there's a scraping noise a ways off that causes him to freeze. because of the echoes of the warehouse, the origin is indiscernible. he doesn't breathe, eyes darting between each of the openings into the aisle.

after a minute of pure silence, he peels himself away and turns to head back out.

and that's when the sound of wood cracking against bone startles him; he hears it before he feels it, but it's obvious when he crumples to the floor. like knife points pressing into his brain at all angles, the shooting agony in his skull.

he starts to clutch at his head, only to be yanked off the ground by a meaty hand and thrown against the side of a crate.

"fucking feds." the guy is enormous. gargantuan. he keeps his arm across Reid's throat, pressing down enough to restrict his airway. but Spencer can't even concentrate on the guy's face further than its rough outlines. his vision is going in and out, fuzzy at the edges from the blow to his head.

he definitely has a concussion.

"I..." he trails off. the huge FBI logo on his vest is a dead giveaway.

"all alone?" the unsub has breath like rotten fish, spits each word into his face. "I won't even need my gun."

Spencer's head lolls to the side and he catches sight of his own weapon lying helplessly a few feet away. there's no way he could get to it in time, even if he got out of this guy's chokehold.

he tries to think of a way to talk himself out of this; after all, their profile said he'd be more susceptible to negotiation, but that's kind of hard to do with someone's forearm slammed against your trachea. he presses harder and Spencer sees stars. his glasses hang almost off the bridge of his nose, centimeters from falling to the floor.

he starts to realize that he's going to die, defenseless and alone, in a warehouse. at the hands of a man who kills women because his Viagra doesn't work. but this doesn't incite the kind of panic Spencer always predicted he'd feel. the lack of oxygen in his brain causes him to go delirious.

he misses home. his mom and his old house, even though things were hard. he misses Y/N, his team members. he wishes his team was here; he should have waited for them. he should have told Y/N how he feels. now she's never going to know.

Reid is so out of it, he doesn't even notice the pressure being relieved from his throat until he collapses on the ground. the unsub falls, too, his cheek smashed by the force of the abandoned wooden plank.

it's hard to tell what's happening until Reid lifts his head to see Morgan standing above him, preparing to handcuff the criminal.

"kid," Spencer never thought he'd be so glad to hear his voice. "what happened?"

...

you practically crash into Spencer's apartment the next evening, flinging your body through the front door with your spare key.

"Spence?" you call out from the entryway. everything still looks the same, but when his colleague, Penelope, called you today to tell you that Reid had gotten a concussion after a run-in with an unsub, you rushed here as soon as you could.

"in here." he calls from his bedroom. you don't hesitate, your feet carrying you there. you've been anxious all day; he didn't call last night or even text like usual. you were on the verge of panicking when Penelope called.

of course, you knew that was the risk with Spencer. he knew the risk, too. his life would always be in the balance when it came to the cases, but he'd gone through so many at this point, you weren't thinking about it. if you did, you wouldn't be able to focus on anything else.

when you walk in, the first thing you see is Spencer laying in bed in his silk pjs. there's a stack of unread books on his bedside table. his glasses sit on top. he's just laying there with his eyes closed.

"oh my god." you mutter, dropping your bag on the floor and walking over. he opens his eyes with a slight smile. there's a purple bruise forming across his throat, light but definitely there.

"hi."

"what the fuck happened?" you ask the question you've been wondering the whole way here.

"he hit me with a plank." Spencer explains, the phrase coming out like he's still confused about it. "I'm fine, just a mild concussion and a bruise because he choked me."

you take a second to assess if he actually means that he's okay, or if he's trying not to worry you. he stares at your expression for a second.

"Y/N, I'm really fine."

"you don't look fine." you gesture to the fact that he's laying in bed.

"my body is sore, but nothing's wrong with me. I just can't look at screens or read." this last part makes him much more melancholy, it seems. you reach down and ruffle his hair playfully.

"sounds like a nightmare."

"it is." he cracks up.

"I'm glad you're okay." you sigh. your heart rate has slowed to a reasonable pace now that you know he's fine. Spencer gives a ghost of a smile, and when he pats the empty spot on the bed beside him, you kick off your shoes and climb over his body to sit down. "so... did you guys get him?"

"the unsub?" he turns his head to look at you. something is in his eyes that you can't read. "yeah, he's in custody. we saved the girl he abducted, too."

"well, aren't you a hero?" you grin, pinching his arm.

"ow!" he flinches. "don't hurt the patient."

"oh, so now you're injured?" you giggle softly. his smile fades a bit, gaze trailing from your face to your legs. it isn't lustful or anything, more like he's taking in your existence. it still makes your heart flutter.

"I wasn't really a hero, anyway," he sighs. "I got knocked down before I even found her."

"oof." you wince.

"yeah, it's sort of embarrassing. I went in by myself and--"

"you went by yourself?" you clarify, turning to face him. of course he did.

"yeah." he avoids your gaze.

"Spencer, I work in a stationery shop and I know you're supposed to wait for backup." you deadpan. he snorts, staring straight ahead at the wall. his hair is flat in the back from where he's been resting it against the headboard.

"he would have hurt her if I had waited." he explains. your heart softens a bit at this. you know Spencer has a problem with saving people; sometimes he doesn't think things through. but you know that it's only because he cares.

you smile gently, appreciating what a beautiful person he is. you don't understand how other people don't see him how you do. your hand reaches for his suddenly, and you find yourself snuggling into his shoulder.

Spencer doesn't usually like touch, but he welcomes this, dropping his own head to rest on top of yours while you both stare at the wall. his silence feels heavy, more than it usually does, and you wonder what he's thinking.

"I'm really glad you're okay, Spencer." your tone is low, like it's a secret.

"you already said that."

"shut up."

"you care about me." he sing-songs with a smile, and you know he means it in a friendly way, but you don't care. it brings warmth to your cheeks.

"whatever. you care about me, too."

he lets out a slight chuckle. "when I started to black out, I thought of you."

your heart leaps, even though the reason is pretty dark. "oh, yeah?"

"mhmm." he hums.

"nobody's ever told me that they thought of me in their last moments of life before." you tease. there are so many things you'd like to say, but know you can't. he smells like himself and coffee beans, his skin warm beneath the silk of his pajamas.

"I'd hope not."

"anything in particular?" you wonder aloud.

"what?" you feel him tense beneath you, and that's how you know there's something he's not telling you.

"were you thinking about anything in particular?"

"someone's full of themselves." he jokes. you smack his arm.

"humor me." more than anything, you want to hear his thoughts. you know you're reaching, but you don't care.

"just..." he pauses, the next words coming out almost too quietly to hear. "things I never got to say to you."

"like?" now you're intrigued.

"no way." he laughs and you groan, turning and realizing that you've both sunk deeper onto the bed and are now practically lying down.

"c'mon," you prod. you've flipped onto your side while you watch him, his eyes directed at the ceiling. "what if you'd actually died?"

Spencer gives you a look, and you wish you could snap a picture of his face. the gentle features, the warmth in his eyes. he stares at you differently than before, and it makes your stomach flip again. "I, um."

you start to trace your index absently down his forearm, where his sleeve has incidentally gotten rolled up. his skin is soft. you know that this isn't a friendly thing to do, but something inside you craves his touch right now. you almost lost him; you can't imagine how horrible that would be.

"I wanted to say that I--" he gulps, muscles in his shoulder tight beneath your cheek. "well, I care about you, and I... I really love you."

it's not the first time he's said it, obviously in a platonic sense. what affects you is that he's acting like it's a big deal.

"I love you too, Spence." you smile softly. his chest rises and falls faster, his face tensed.

"no, I mean--" he turns onto his side, using the action to distract from his own nervousness. he holds your gaze and you forget how to breathe as he speaks. every syllable is serious, but you note his fingers fidgeting at his side. "I'm in love with you."

it's like all the air in the room has been sucked out. you swallow, unsure of how to react at first. you don't believe what you're hearing, simply because it doesn't make sense. you've been friends for a while, now, but Spencer has never made a move to ask you out or acted like he wanted anything more.

your heart swells.

"you're in love with me?" the words even feel surreal on your tongue. he takes it as rejection.

"I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry." Spencer rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, his expression turning to a cringe. he's about to sit up to hide the red in his cheeks, but you pull him back down by the shoulder.

"not so fast, crazy boy." the corners of your mouth are turning up into a grin. you can't help it; every nerve in your body is alive. Spencer loves you. he feels the same way.

when he sinks back down onto the mattress and sighs, preparing to say something that rescinds the statement to erase any awkwardness, you grab his face and turn it to yours. you don't kiss him, only force him to look.

"I'm in love with you, too."

his eyebrows fly up in surprise. "r-really?"

"yes." you nod.

he takes a second to process this. you see about five different expressions pass over his face, each one reminding you of how earnest he is. and it's absolutely adorable.

"well, that's good, isn't it?" he clarifies. you pretend to think on it.

"I'd say so, yeah."

he smiles. a genuine, rare one that makes your veins feel as if they're full of glitter. you're on Cloud 9.

"can I kiss you?" you ask him quietly. he seems surprised at this, too, like he never thought you'd want that, but then nods eagerly.

you close the gap between you on the bed, holding his jaw in one hand while the other rests on his forearm. your lips meet softly at first. he's cautious, scared of pushing you away. he hasn't kissed many people before. but he's good at it, letting you take the lead.

there's no way to adequately describe kissing Spencer. every bone in your body turns to mush, immediately craving more contact. you slide your tongue across his full bottom lip, and he lets you in. his affection is the most loved you've ever felt. because sure, you haven't had sex, but you've kissed people before.

never like this.

one of his hands goes up to wrap around your forearm tenderly before he shifts to lie on his side. you wrap around each other, turning the kiss into a full-body embrace as you breathe in. you want more. your leg swings over his torso so you can pull yourself closer, and he groans into your mouth when your pelvis presses against his.

the kiss gets more heated, his hands carefully but hungrily traveling down the curve of your waist. you flip so that you're straddling him without breaking any contact.

you don't really think about the way your hips begin to rock against his, your pussy involuntarily working for friction. there are so many happy chemicals in your brain right now, you giggle against his mouth when his body bucks up into yours. he groans.

"Y/N..." he breathes softly. his hands move from your waist to your thighs, afraid to dig his fingertips in.

"what?" you sigh, licking over his bottom lip again. he moans at the way you keep grinding on his erection.

"I wanna--" his eyelashes flutter when he gasps. "I wanna touch you."

"do it." your palm is resting tenderly against his cheek. he responds by finally holding you down, sliding his body up a bit to grind against your center. you whine. "touch whatever you want, Spencer."

his cock twitches in his pants and you push the hem of his shirt up while he uses one hand to massage your tits. the voracious, curious nature of his attention makes you sigh, touching his stomach. he feels perfect beneath you.

soon you're grabbing at each other without any regard for grace. he's so horny, he's pawing at whatever he can while you do the same to him. the kissing gives way to straight panting while you look at each other.

"can I suck your dick?" you whisper. Spencer's eyes widen. you've never seen him nod so fast.

you press your mouth to his one more time before inching down his body, sucking on his clavicle, then his stomach. careful to avoid the purple marks on his neck. he watches you intently, memorizing the details of this moment for later. when you reach the waistband of his pants, you peek up. he strains against the material.

your mouth drops open and you draw your tongue over the clothed bulge, maintaining eye contact. Spencer throws his head back. his voice is high. "oh my god, oh my god."

you smirk, licking it again. he clenches his jaw. "I'm gonna c-cum if you don't--" he tries for words, but he's mewling and moving against your mouth. you pull at his pants, hooking your fingers in his boxers and bringing them down, too.

Spencer bucks into the air when his cock hits his stomach. it's big, precum leaking helplessly out of the tip while he whines. you want him now.

"wow." you smile. he stares at you, tensing his stomach as you wrap your hand around his length. he's trying to keep quiet, but as soon as you spit on it and start to pump him, his head falls back into the pillow.

you draw your tongue up the underside, paying special attention to the veins, reveling in his reactions. he looks like he's ascending to heaven when you start to suck on the first couple inches.

"o-oh, fuck..." he keeps moving his hips off the bed for more, so you sink down further onto him, hollowing your cheeks and moaning. "Y/N..."

you groan in response, feeling yourself get wetter with every sound he makes. you can't believe this is happening, the way he threads his fingers loosely through your hair in an attempt to touch more of you.

he tries to keep his eyes open while you suck, but they squint with pleasure. he's a mess for you, shuddering gently when you take nearly all of him into your mouth.

before he can cum, you pull your mouth off of him with a satisfying pop. Spencer moans.

"was that okay?" you ask carefully. this is the extent of your sexual experience, and you want to do more with him, but you aren't sure how he feels. your best friend stares back at you like you've turned his world upside down.

"y-yeah," he replies. his face is flushed. "definitely okay."

he's throbbing, occasionally twitching against his stomach as he waits for more stimulation. you eye him carefully.

"what do you feel comfortable doing?" your voice is smooth. "we can stop now, if you'd like."

"I--" he chokes on the word. "I don't wanna stop."

"do you want to have sex?" you ask. Spencer bites his lip, whines.

"mhmm."

"I wanna do that, too," you breathe out, straightening up and pulling your shirt over your head, unclasping your bra, before getting to work on your shorts. you know you're practically dripping. he's been more vocal, but you feel like you're going to implode from the desire. "but I need to tell you something."

"what?" he tugs your arm, coaxing you back to him and touching you greedily. you giggle as you kick your shorts and panties off somewhere in the room. both of you move like awkward teenagers.

"I'm a virgin." you say.

Spencer frowns. "really?"

"yeah," you lick your lips. "so you need to be careful."

"o-of course." he blushes, getting nervous again. "you know I'm a virgin too, right?"

"I know." you smile. he returns it sweetly, and the commotion of your bodies slows for a moment. you're so happy, you could cry.

"what?" he breaks the comfortable silence.

"I'm excited," you shrug. he's got his hands on your waist, rubbing his fingertips over your skin. then you remember something. "wait, are you allowed to have sex with your... injury?"

"it's fine." he reaches up and kisses your throat with an urgency.

"did the doctor say that?" your eyes roll while he sucks on your neck. he groans and pulls down on your waist so that your stomach presses against his cock. he ruts.

"second opinion from me." he pants. you tap his cheek playfully, move up his body until your core brushes him. he whimpers when you reach between your bodies and grip his length in your hands.

"you ready?" your voice is low. Spencer squeezes your thighs, eyes moving between your tits and your face.

"yes." he sighs. you position it, slicking him in your pussy while he wraps an arm around your waist and moans for more. your chests are pressed together, looking into each other's eyes while you slide him into you.

you have to go slow, the intrusion causing your jaw to drop. you don't breathe. he's got his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

"Spencer." you whimper, dropping your head onto his chest when he's fully inside of you. his fingers rub patiently over your back.

"are you okay?" his voice is laced with a moan, trying to resist thrusting.

"yeah, just a second." you wiggle a little bit to test the boundaries. it hurts, but it also feels good. your clit is begging for more pressure, so you start to roll your hips. Reid moans loudly.

"Y/N..." he whimpers. "don't stop."

"you want more?" the need in his voice makes you hornier, and you increase the pace, despite the slight pain. you're so wet, he slides in and out without much effort.

"so-- much more." he's gasping, hands on your thighs as he watches your naked body writhe on top of him. he's never been more aroused in his life, spurred on by your scent and form and the tightness that keeps clenching around his cock.

he understands why people love sex so much, now. he wants it every day, wants to fuck you in every position and pleasure you. the sounds you release in his ear, whines and praises, he would do anything for more. walk to the ends of the earth to feel you cum on his cock.

his hand finds your ass, squeezes it.

"this feel good, Spence? fucking your best friend?" you talk dirty and he twitches. you're always so sweet, the words coming out of your mouth for him are going to send the genius into a tailspin.

"mhmm," he holds you down so that he can thrust up. speaking at all is a struggle with the way he's feeling. "perfect."

you start to say something else, but he hits a certain angle and you let out a quiet yelp, hips jumping at the pleasure. "I'm gonna cum."

Spencer gets a rush of relief because it's taking everything in him right now not to absolutely lose it inside your pussy. he's hanging on by a thread. "me, too."

you use your position on top to stimulate yourself. both of you chase your orgasms roughly, the rhythm you created degenerating into clawing excitement.

"cum inside me, Spencer." you beg him. it sounds like you would do anything to feel it, that sensation that you've never experience but have always imagined. and Spencer, his own head foggy with ecstasy, nods and opens his mouth to let out a loud groan.

"Y/N, fuck fuck fuck-- I'm--" he shoots his load inside of you, rutting wildly and letting his head drop onto the pillow while he pants. you can feel it. strange, lovely jolts of his seed spreading. your hands, which have been resting on his shoulders, tighten and you reach your climax. you flutter around him, both of you still moving to ease the intensity of the high.

it's remarkable. you're crying out, having the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life. you never thought your first time would be like this. but you're glad it is, muscles tightening and releasing with the mixture of emotions.

you collapse fully, him still inside.

neither of you speaks. his heartbeat thuds against your ear, and you hold onto him like letting go would be the end of the world. you can't believe you could have lost him. you don't want to think about it.

"sorry I came so fast." Spencer apologizes breathlessly. you can feel his cum dripping down your entrance when he slides out.

"I don't care." you mumble. both of you stay there for a while, his heartbeat changing to a pace that reminds you of genuine excitement. like a hummingbird.

"we can try again, sometime." he offers. you lift your head to rest your chin on his chest. his skin is flushed, pupils dilated, hair messy. such a pretty boy.

"we should try multiple times."

he gives you a cheerful smile, and everything starts to fall into place. you took each other's virginity. "Y/N?"

he likes to say your name, and you love to hear it. "yes?"

"are we dating?" the bluntness of the question makes you giggle. you don't hesitate.

"yeah."

“good.”

taglist (lmk if you wanna be added/removed!): @reidsconverse @voidsfilm @xoxomgg

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #baby spence #mgg #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #matthew gray gubler

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sorry-i-ship-drarry · 3 years ago

Text

Hiraeth

Mild hurt/comfort // word limit- 2.5k

Because Devil loves the angels and saint loves the sinners, I too love the poison, I too love the forbidden, and I too love the villain.

"Let's begin, shall we Mr. Malfoy?" The lady in the grey suit asked.

Draco nodded despite that he was chipping his nail off while sitting in that comfortable chair in front of her.

"Are you sure? If you’re uncomfortable, do tell us."

Draco nodded again, "I'm good. This chair is awfully comfortable."

The lady smiled and then nodded.

The sound of reel being put into a camera and it being set up was heard quite clearly. He hated this place instantly. He hated this but he knew he had no other option.

"Can you sign this consent, it just includes that this meeting is recorded for safety purposes?"

Draco nodded and signed the consent.

"Then let's begin. You have known Mr.Potter for how long?" The lady asked.

Draco pulled himself inward and responded, "From as long as I can imagine. We first met at Hogwarts. We didn't get along throughout our school life but we did when we hinged back together while we started working, which was almost 2 years ago."

"That's quite a long time to know someone, don't you think so?"

Draco shrugged, "I don't think you can ever really truly know a person."

The lady nodded, perhaps agreeing or maybe acknowledging that Draco could've been right.

"Over the course of your friendship,you developed feelings for Mr. Potter, isn’t it so?”

He nodded.

“So, when and how did you ever learn that you had feelings for him?"

Draco started to become a little more comfortable second and second and was starting to restore some confidence so that his voice didn't tremble anymore.

"I had pretty much always seen Harry as a friend, from the very moment we started working in the same office. It wasn't until we started working on Morgan's case that I realised that maybe I liked Harry more than just a friend, in a romantic way but I was never sure of how he felt about me, so I remained silent and in denial for a long time. I think it was our 3rd week of working together on the case when I realised my feelings."

She nodded and noted down something in her note pad then asked again, "When did you finally accept that you wanted to be with him?"

"Maybe when I realised he saw us more than just friends. Back then we hadn't even confessed our feelings but we were dropping hints to one another and I caught on during that time that I accepted my feelings and wanted to be with him." Draco explained calmly.

"So, when that happened, when both of you confessed your feelings, what happened then?" She asked as though she was genuinely curious.

Draco's face lit up with a small smile as he remembered the early days, when there were all rainbows and daisies, when things were a lot less complex, "It was in the heat of the moment that it came up. We were having a random conversation at a party and I suddenly confessed, probably a little drunk but I did and so did he, but nothing really happened till after a week. We let things slide during that time."

"And what after that week?"

"He asked me out on a date. Maybe to get a rise out of him I had told him that I'm seeing someone that weekend though I was unsure and maybe it worked, so he asked me out on a date and I didn't deny but I told him the truth on the date." Draco shrugged.

“And how did that date go?” She asked.

Draco smiled, “The best one I had ever been on.”

“How was the beginning of your relationship with him?”

Draco looked at his feet for a while, his fingers twitching. He took a little pause, then replied, “As good as anything can be. It was like everything I could ever ask for. The beauty of being with him and then just knowing that I had him in my life. The beginning was the best part, in my opinion. We couldn’t get a hold off on each other and it was scary, the way that we fell in love so quickly but it was so beautiful. I never spoke out loud to Harry, not my fears for that matter but I always felt that everything was too good to be true back then. I had never met anyone like Harry, and I loved every second of it. It was- it was the best. I wouldn’t change anything about it.”

She smiled, almost as if she knew what Draco was talking about. After all the beginnings are the most beautiful parts of the relationship.

“How did he make you feel?” She asked, again.

“I- He made me feel all the things I never knew I could feel,” Draco felt air choke in his lungs. It felt a little too much and his eyes cornered up with tears,

“I was born and bought up to believe that love was for the weak, that love made you vulnerable but he- he made it feel like the strongest thing in the world. That if I loved him and he loved me back, I could win all the battles in the world,” he took a deep breath, a smile etching upon his face, “He made me feel beautiful, that I was worth something way more than the world saw me. That I had everything in my life, he made me feel, he made me happy like I was on top of the world and its funny to say but he made me feel as though I was better than everybody else because he was with me. He made me feel better. Being with him was like- being in a patch of sunlight on cold winter nights--, it felt like skating through ice, or sitting over a rainbow-, he made me feel like I was in some other world, the one I had always dreamed of. He made me, happy.”

Draco chuckled as he felt tears prickle down his face.

“Tissue?” the lady offered and Draco took it and wiped those tears of.

“We can take a short break if you want?” She asked with a low tilt of her head for emphasis.

Draco shook his head, “I’m fine.”

She nodded and continued, “Do you have any idea of how you made him feel?”

He shrugged, “I can’t be sure. It was what he felt right? How could I had possibly known? But I always wished that I made him feel the same way he made me feel, you know. That I made him happier, that I too made him feel loved, made him believe in love, made him feel worthy of all good things.”

“Were there ever troubles in your relationship?”

“Of course, we had fights every now and then-”

“how did you overcome them?”

“We used to talk about it. The problem was, I always felt as if I was the problem, so I used to constantly apologize. Maybe because I had fucked up so much in my past that I always felt that I would fuck it up and I did not want to lose him, at all but we still used to fight, mostly silly things. We only had one big fight, just once when I said things I didn’t mean and he did the same. We didn’t talk for a while but then we worked it out, I cried that day, so did he. We always worked things out. We believed in good communication.” Draco explained.

She nodded and made a remark in her notepad once again, “Did you ever feel that he was growing distant at one point, that he ever pushed you away?”

Draco took a while to reply for that question. He nodded, “Only once. He had been working on some case and was returning home very late. I was starting to get worried and paranoid and he, I believe was maintaining a little space. It was in the beginning of the relationship.”

“But you really loved Harry and do you think he loved you the same way? The same unconditional way that you did?” She asked, her voice more softer than before, as if it hurt her the same way.

Draco smiled. He turned his head to see outside the window. It was a beautiful day outside, it was cold and foggy and it was raining but it was Draco’s favourite weather. He loved the rain, the pattering sound of water against the window, the earthly smell of mud, the petrichor, the sound of water hitting the road and the clouds tearing. He loved the rain. It made him feel calmer.

“I think I loved him too much,” a pause, “I often find myself thinking that maybe I loved him more than I was supposed to, more than I let myself believe. I did love him unconditionally, a little too much but he was just that lovable. I gave him my all. But I think he loved me too, at least I think so. He said he did but I don’t know how much of it was true. Somewhere I hope he loved me the way he told me did.”

“So, he made promises, a lot of them?”

“No. I did not believe in promises,so, we never made any but it was all just words.”

She took a little pause, drank a glass of water, offered Draco one too and then continued, “What's your fondest memory with him?”

Draco smiled again, “Think you’re making me emotional on purpose.”

The lady chuckled and shook her head.

Draco nodded, “All of them, It sounds strange but all of them, from the first date to the last one, from first conversation as a couple to the last one, every single one of them. He’s the bane of many memories that I’ll cherish my whole life. I loved every single second I spent with him, every single one of them.”

She smiled for a brief moment then perhaps as he profession has taught her, she turned serious and asked, “Would you had done anything in the world for him? Even if it was the most illegal thing in the world?”

The rain started pouring down more heavily after the thunder broke. The sound of the howling wind resonated the room and Draco despite that, found himself more calmer.

He took a deep breath but did not break his gaze from watching the rain and finally said, “I’m afraid I might’ve. That’s what scares me, the love I had for him. If he had stood before me with a gun and asked me to kill someone for him, I fear I might’ve done it.”

And even though the thought was scary, even though his answer was scary, they both knew Draco would’ve never done such a thing.

But she didn’t feel disturbed at all, in fact she asked again, “Do you think Harry would've done anything for you In the world?”

“I’m afraid so, yes.”

“You said you had been with him for an year, how was that one year?” She asked as if taking the conversation to a lighter side again since it had turned dark too soon.

“It was- the best. What we had, what we turned into, I would never change any of it for the world. It was beautiful, waking up next to each other, going out together. Its funny to think of it but we never got bored of each other, its like I’d spend an entire day with him and the moment he’d leave, i’ll miss him immediately. It was all about the spark- the electricity-,” he took a pause, a knot forming in his throat, “but all of it, it seemed as if I had been with him forever. I’m sorry- I don’t mean to cry but it’s- I’m sorry.” he choked on his own tears.

“We can come back to it later if you want?”

Draco shook his head, he cleared his throat and spoke again, “No- it’s just a little overwhelming talking about Harry. He meant the world to me and now, I don’t know how to explain. It feels emptier without him and when I talk about him, it just rips something inside.” his tears didn’t stop even though he was trying to control it, he couldn’t stop it. Maybe it was all the memories rushing back to him or the emptiness, or his feelings for Harry which made it almost unbearable to breath.

She nodded understandably and despite his denial, she gave him a little break. It was only moments later when Draco had calmed down further that she asked again, “Did you ever think about your future with him?”

Draco nodded.

“What did you see in your future?”

He was fidgeting his fingers when he took a deep breath and finally looked up at her to respond, “It was never really clear, our future. Like I said, I somewhere always felt it was all too good to be true, so, I often felt like things would come to an end way before I would even realise it but I used to think of moving in with him one day and all these scenarios I had in my head with him, like how we’d get a dog together or how we’d go furniture shopping, or maybe one day we would just be celebrating us far away from everyone else. That image though, it was very vague. I could never fully imagine my future with him but I liked to think of being with him, a lot longer than I believed for.”

“Do you think you would've eventually ended up being married to him? Did you ever think about it?“

Draco shook his head, “I never got that far, though I think I would’ve liked it one day.”

“What's the one thing about him that you'll never forget?” she asked.

Draco looked at the watch kept beside her on the table, it was ticking slowly or what seemed to him, or maybe it felt as though because this was the first time he was something so real in a really long time, or maybe it was entirely something else, he didn’t know.

“What he gave me, what he taught me, his smile, his words, his love. I’ll never forget how I loved him, how he loved me but most of all how he made me feel because I don’t think anyone will ever make me feel the same way.”

“why do you think so?” She asked as though that question wasn’t scripted, as if it had been her mere curiosity.

Draco however shrugged, “I don’t know. I can never think of it. Its just something I know. Maybe- its because we all love differently and all my life I was searching for that kind of love, that I was searching for him and I didn’t even know and when I finally got it- when I got him, I feel as if, I’ll never be the same. I never quite understand the entire reason though.”

“Did you ever think after a fight that you wanted to leave him alone and run away?” She asked, looking at her wrist watch. It was coming to a close.

“Never.”

“Why?”

“You don’t runaway from Home, you never do unless it abandons you, and he felt like Home. No matter what happened, I still loved him more than anything and I could not imagine a life without him.”

She finally took a deep breath, a long one and asked, “And did it feel real? Any of it?”

Draco felt as though his entire world had crashed, stopped. That if his life was a continuum, but it stopped right there, in those differences, or in that space, in that time, in that room with that camera still video taping him. Did it feel real? Did Harry feel real?

“It did. Even if it wasn’t all real, I know he could not have faked it all that much. You can’t fake that kind of love.” His eyes watered, his vision blurred and his voice trembled again. His hand shook. His legs shook and his brain as if slowed down.

It was real. He told his own heart, It was real. It could not have been fake. It could not have been. Harry would not fake love.

And yet, he hoped... he hoped it was real because he wasn’t brave, he didn’t have faith in his own love to believe that it was all real.

It felt real though, he couldn’t say it out loud.

“That night, what changed?” She finally asked, her stare dead serious, unlike Draco’s.

“Everything.”It came out as a low whisper. He wanted to run away now. He was done. He had answered enough. He wanted to go away. He knew what was coming, he knew what was next and he didn’t want to hear those words again, he didn’t want to.

“How did you feel when you realised that Harry is a murderer?”

And it stopped again, his world.

She asked him again because perhaps she had asked him twice in 5 minutes and he had still not answered. He didn’t know how to. He didn’t believe it but the worst thing, he knew it was true. He knew it and that truth was bitter than all the poison in the world.

That truth was poison itself and no bezoar could fix it.

“My Harry could never be a murderer.”

His Harry...

This is also available on AO3.

Tagging some people for the boost, please ignore <3

@phoebe-delia @chinike @elenaxoxo22 @thecornerofbelu @nv-md @drarrywords @lilthislilthat @cissa-bee @missdrarrydawn @harryandginnydeservesbetter @draco-lucious-potter @ravena-wrote @textrovert-01 @silver-de-vonne

Ps. writing this took me 4 hrs straight, don't let it go to waste <3

#drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #draco x harry #hp fandom #harry james potter #drarry prompt #harry potter fanfiction #drarry ship #drarry fic #draco malfoy fic #harry potter fic #harry potter one shot #draco malfoy one shot #drarry one shots #drarry fanfic #hurt comfort

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honeypiehotchner · 4 years ago

Text

you’re still a traitor (Hotch x Fem!Reader) — one shot

This is all angst because my brain wanted to write something based off “traitor” by Olivia Rodrigo 🤭🤭🤭

Warnings: angst, mentions of sex, mentions of excessive drinking as a coping mechanism, no happy ending (and no there won’t be a part 2 soz)

Hotch Masterlist || Main Masterlist

brown guilty eyes and little white lies i played dumb but i always knew

Your relationship with Hotch wasn’t even a real relationship. Not in hindsight, at least. At the heart of it, though, as it was happening, it felt real. It felt more real than anything you had ever experienced.

Nothing was glorified, over-exaggerated, or unnecessary. You’ve always been a straight-to-the-point person, and so has he, so it struck neither of you by surprise when you began spending nights together on cases.

The tension between the two of you had always been high from the day you started at the BAU. He blames it on the skirt you wore to the interview. You blame it on the way he looked you up and down every chance he got.

No wonder he didn’t look surprised to find you on the other side of his hotel room door.

That first night you had said something stupid, something about the girls being lame and going to bed early. But the truth was that they were raiding the minibar, and as much as you wanted to join them, you wanted to see Hotch more.

You knew he didn’t sleep much. It wasn’t hard to conclude, not with his recent divorce, late hours, entire pots of coffee to himself, and dark circles under his eyes.

Not to mention, of course, the small throw pillow and blanket that magically appeared on the couch in his office one day.

You weren’t surprised when he opened the hotel room door, still fully dressed, minus his jacket. You were barely a fourth of a way through your explanation for turning up at his door when he pulled you inside, lips bruising yours and hands gripping your skirt.

To him, it was always the damn skirt.

That night was the first of many. No one knew. No one knows now. Hotch continued to book you a room of your own, and you continued to spend your nights in his bed.

You mastered the art of sneaking to his room after everyone was in, and sneaking back to yours before anyone woke up.

Occasionally, you’d stay back at the BAU until everyone had left, just to spend a moment more with Hotch.

loved you at your worst but that didn’t matter

No one knows this, but you’re the reason his dark circles left. The reason he didn’t stay as late anymore. Because you always coaxed him away, wanting dinner, or even just company as you walked to your car (where you’d then ask for dinner, or rightfully point out that he’s already at the parking garage, so he might as well go home).

Dinner one night turned into almost every night, except when he had Jack. Sleeping in his bed once became almost every night, except when Jack wanted to spend the night.

A label was never spoken about, but you never felt the need to speak about it. As far as you were concerned, you were the only one he was sleeping with and vice versa. Why did a label matter?

That’s what you told yourself, at least. Labels didn’t matter to you. Exclusivity is all that mattered, and you had that. You thought.

You had suspected Hotch started seeing someone else. But all you had was a gut feeling, and a feeling isn’t enough evidence.

i kept quiet so i could keep you

Soon it wasn’t just a feeling. Soon Hotch didn’t want to go to dinner anymore because he was leaving earlier than you — earlier than anyone else. Soon he started actually leaving for lunch on his lunch hour, and that’s when the rumors started swarming.

“Okay,” Garcia ushered everyone over in the bullpen. “Is. Hotch. Dating?”

Rossi chuckled. “I. Don’t. Know.”

Morgan shook his head. “Nah, that sounds like he knows something.”

“Not really,” you shrugged. “Why do we think he’s dating someone?”

“Are you kidding me?” Garcia gasped. “He just left the building on his lunch hour! I’ve never seen him leave for lunch the entire time I’ve been here.”

“Me either,” JJ agreed, to your horror.

“Maybe it’s just something with Jack,” you shrugged again, not even aware of your defensive tone.

Prentiss narrowed her eyes. “Do you know something?”

“What?” You blurted, eyes wide. “No? Am I supposed to?”

“Answering a question with a question,” Reid pointed out lowly.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” you said. You grimace, thinking about it now, but you didn’t have any energy then to know it was rude. Or to care.

You were paranoid. Horrified. You were in Hotch’s bed two nights ago, and now he was leaving on his lunch hour, and you had no idea what for. All signs pointed right where the rest of the team was thinking, but the thought made you sick.

So sick that the next night, when you found yourself once again in Hotch’s bed, you brought it up.

You tried to be nonchalant. You don’t know where it went wrong.

ain’t it funny? remember i brought her up and you told me i was paranoid

“How was lunch yesterday?”

His eyebrows furrowed. Something you used to gaze at in awe, but in that moment it made you panic. “Lunch?”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “You left for lunch and the whole team thought something was up.”

He merely hummed. Hummed. That was his reply.

“Emily thought I knew where you went,” you continued, tracing circles on your arm. Normally, you’d trace circles on his chest, but that felt wrong all of the sudden. “I told them I didn’t and they didn’t believe me.”

He chuckled quietly. “I went to lunch. That’s all.”

“With who?” You asked, far too quickly. Maybe that was your mistake. You were too accusatory too fast.

“Did it have to be with someone?” He retaliated, and looking back now, you see this moment here, this was the downfall.

“I mean,” you paused. “You normally stay in your office if you’re eating alone. I figured if you left then you were going to meet someone.”

“Oh.”

You hesitated. “Did you?”

“Yes,” he finally said, ripping the Band-Aid off once and for all. “Her name is Beth. But we’re just friends.”

You nodded. “You sure?”

He turned on his side then, facing you with his head propped on his arm. “Why are you asking?”

“Because I’m curious.”

“You’re never curious.”

“You never leave the office to meet someone for lunch.” Especially not a woman, unless for whatever reason, Haley wants to have lunch and brings Jack, but the last time that happened was seven months ago, back when they were still trying to be friends after the divorce.

“I’m allowed to meet friends for lunch.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t,” you replied, probably too harshly. “I just meant...I don’t know what I meant.”

you gave me your word but that didn’t matter

Weeks passed by and you watched Hotch leave every now and again to have lunch with Beth. He never explicitly told you that it was Beth he was meeting every single time, but you knew. You always knew.

Because the look he’d give you as he’d close his office door, phone in hand no doubt to send a text to her, letting her know he was on his way. The look he’d give you said it all.

You knew the end was coming. Truthfully, you knew the end of the two of you was coming from the first day he met her for lunch.

You had never seen him as happy as he looked when he came back. And with every lunch date, it got worse.

Yet, for some reason, he still invited you over. And for some reason, you still agreed without hesitation.

February came and your heart broke with it.

You knocked on Hotch’s office door, bag in hand, the question of dinner on your hopeful lips.

“Can we talk?” He asked, speaking before you had a second to breathe.

You nodded, stepped inside to your demise, not even bothering to sit down. You knew it wouldn’t take long, and it didn’t.

Two sentences. That’s all it took.

“I don’t think what we’re doing is something I want long-term — for me or for you. I think it’s best if we go our separate ways.”

For me or for you. He was always thinking of your well-being. It always annoyed you.

“Okay,” you had said, cracking a small smile to hide the pain. “Fun while it lasted, right?”

“Right,” he agreed. “Well, have a good night. See you tomorrow.”

You couldn’t hold the tears in and they flowed freely before you were even out of the bullpen. You were thankful everyone had left. Imagine the explanation you would’ve had to conjure up. The web of lies he would’ve forced you to spin in five seconds.

Instead, you had to spin an entirely new web. All to explain why you weren’t sleeping, why you were drinking more, why you looked like you had cried all night the next day (you said it was allergies and insomnia; Morgan was the only skeptical one, but he let it go).

it took you two weeks to go off and date her

The real ending came when Valentine’s Day arrived. You were foolish to think he’d spend it with you, but you still did.

The jet landed back in Virginia after a long case, and you thought for sure Hotch would tap you on the way off of the jet, ask you to dinner, then back to his place, just like you did last year.

But he had made plans. With Beth.

You were delusional to think otherwise, but still, his smile cut right through you when he told Rossi he had plans.

guess you didn’t cheat but you’re still a traitor

Derek, Emily, and Penelope wanted to go out for drinks and you were the first to agree, ready to forget the past year of your life.

Thankfully, you didn’t spill any secrets while drunk. You did confess to going through a breakup, but not with Hotch. No one will ever know it was Hotch. The “he” in question will forever remain a mystery to them.

Meanwhile, you watched Hotch fall deeper and deeper in love. He decided to run a triathlon, and he trained every morning -- with her. He left for lunch almost every day to go eat -- with her. He never stayed late, he always had plans -- with her.

He hardly ever spoke to you anymore. And you never spoke to him.

It became an unspoken agreement for you to leave finished paperwork on his desk without a word (if he was in there) or better yet, to drop it off while he’s at lunch.

You sleep in the hotel room furthest from his every case.

The seats next to him on the jet are off-limits and you’ve even gone to make a shitty cup of shitty coffee before to avoid him (and everyone knows you hate the coffee on the jet).

You somehow managed to never meet or hear about Beth until the triathlon — and you were apparently the only one who hadn’t met her yet.

Jack hugged her immediately that day. He had already warmed up to her and it made you want to claw your heart out.

Beth is nice. Beth is an angel. Beth is older, prettier, everything you knew Hotch wanted and wasn’t getting from you.

She shook your hand with a smile, none the wiser to the fact that you’ve slept with Hotch more times than you can remember. That your heart belongs to him even though you don’t want it to. Even though you want it back.

now you bring her around just to shut me down show her off like she’s a new trophy

Once you met Beth, it seemed like she was everywhere. Visiting the office, bringing Hotch lunch, bringing Jack in to visit, having coffee with Hotch in the cafe you used to frequent, at Rossi’s for family dinner nights. Everywhere.

Worst of all, at JJ and Will’s wedding.

You weren’t the only one to show up without a date, yet you felt like it. Especially when Hotch arrived with Beth on his arm, glowing like always, with Jack holding onto his hand.

You avoided Hotch all night — Beth too, but mostly him — yet he somehow managed to find you alone in the kitchen.

The wine was your saving grace of the night, and he happened to walk in as you were pouring another.

“I can hear your liver screaming from here.”

A poor attempt at a joke, really. Maybe it was funny. But you didn’t laugh. “I’ll survive” was your dry reply before downing half the glass.

His face looked softer, but you know now it was the wine in your system.

“You look good,” he had said. “How are you doing?”

You stared at him. “Fine. Thanks.”

You don’t know why he kept trying to have a conversation with you. You felt insufferable and you see now that you were, but it’s all his fault.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You chuckled dryly. “Not with you.” You paused. “How’s Beth?” Paused again, this time to bring the wine glass to your lips. “How’s a real relationship working out for you?”

Hotch’s face fell. “What we had was real. You know that.”

“I know it was,” you replied. “But do you? Do you really?”

He didn’t answer. His silence was all you needed.

and i know if you were true there’s no damn way that you could fall in love with somebody that quickly

You left him standing there in the kitchen without another word. You had nothing left to say to him, and he clearly ran out of words for you.

Derek found you halfway to the dance floor.

“Woah, I don’t like that look,” he said, taking the wine from you. “What’s going through that pretty head of yours?”

“Nothing,” you lied. “Let’s dance instead. Come on.”

You drug him away, meeting Penelope and Emily for the next song. You danced, you cried, you blamed the tears on the alcohol in your system. You slow danced with Emily, Derek, Rossi, narrowly avoided Hotch by swinging into Spencer’s fumbling arms.

No one knew. No one would ever know.

you betrayed me

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner songfic #traitor olivia rodrigo #aaron hotchner angst #angst #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds songfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #you will not find a happy ending here #oops

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cinnamonest · 3 years ago

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//some horrendous gaslighting

I love my stranger-to-noncon very much but I don't give enough attention to consensual relationships taking a turn for the worse, or utterly toxic and abusive boyfriends and Kaeya is the perfect candidate for that so here we go.

-----

I've mentioned before the Kaeya would be exceptionally violent in comparison to other yanderes, but it's important to note that he's also among the most emotionally sensitive, and those two things do not go together well.

Not sensitive outwardly, of course, he's spent years developing that personality of his as a defense mechanism, can easily pretend he doesn't care about anything, but deep down that abandonment complex and those insecurities are strong and easily triggered. Some of the ways it manifests are mild, like how he gets overly attached to you within a week of knowing you, commits and tries to move way too fast even in completely mutual and consensual relationships. The kind of guy that suggests moving in together a week into the relationship, and dropping I love you so early on that you're left to merely blink in surprise because you barely know each other, but under the pressure and awkwardness you find yourself stuttering out a reciprocation, even though it's quite untrue. Guilt-trips and pressures his way into fucking you within a couple of days.

He's a very different person behind closed doors, it comes out maybe a month in when he lets the walls drop and lets himself trust you. He's more vulnerable, sweeter. Oddly... Eager to trust. It's like he desperately wants someone he can latch onto and show some vulnerability around and chose you to be that someone.

But also different in other ways. More... Bitter. More grumpy. More immature.

He's not sensitive in general, he doesn't really care about what most people say or do, but that sensitivity comes out once he's attached to a person, which happens rather quickly. You start noticing it rather quickly in a mutual relationship, and it likely shocks you honestly that he's so... immature. You spend the day with one of your friends -- just one, catch up with them, haven't seen them in a while... and when you get home things are rather quiet. He's usually a very talkative person, so you can't figure out what's wrong. Maybe something bad happened, but he insists no, it's fine. There's nothing wrong. And then you catch the last part, much quieter, spoken under his breath in that lighthearted tone he speaks in, yet with a bitterness to it.

You wouldn't care anyway, you're too busy with your friends.

It takes you by surprise at first because holy shit, really? It seems so petulant that it can't possibly be real, but... Maybe he really did have a bad day and is just getting his anger out by directing it at the first thing he can. That's not right, but hey, everyone has weak moments where they do some bad things. Besides, you weren't there for him, so he feels worse right? Still, you spent every day the past month except this one day with him... No, it's just poor timing, that's all.

Until it happens again. And again. And he swears he likes your friends, smiles at them, but it... Looks forced. Always complaining that you spend so much time with them and completely ignore him. Do you even care? Do you value the relationship at all? You try to not get angry and be rational, but still defend yourself because you spend almost all of your time with him don't you? You can't get much out before he just huffs and stomps away, rolls his eyes (well, you assume he rolls both of them, you can't tell but-- nevermind, not the point) and gives you a cold shoulder. Until you apologize, then it's like the switch has flipped back on, there's love and smiles and warmth and hugs again.

It starts to get on your nerves. You start to wonder if maybe this isn't healthy for you, if maybe you should end things, but you decide to give him another chance, right? We all make mistakes. He's under a lot of stress. Just... It'll be fine.

And the first time it gets physical he swears it's an accident. It leaves an ugly scar. You're going out because come on, it's my family, I haven't seen them in forever.

It just happens, he explains, it's unintentional, emotions get channeled through the vision like that. Comforts you as you sit on the ground crying and clutching your arm that he grabbed as you walked out the door, skin darkened and purplish from the freeze that's seared through a layer of your skin. He sighs and says he's sorry, really, he feels horrible already, so don't get mad, ok? He already feels terrible enough... Don't be mean. He didn't mean it. Don't be mean. Don't be fucking mean about it, stop fucking crying. You're making him feel worse.

He seems genuinely sorry, you tell yourself. It's not his fault. You can't blame him. It's ok.

It's harder to excuse the next time it gets physical. Maybe freezing last time was unintentional, and maybe it hurt, but you weren't terrified like this. A hand around your throat is different.

But can you blame him? You were threatening to leave. Honestly, you weren't approaching it healthily, you weren't trying to actually have a serious talk, you were trying to guilt him and gaslight him and it's honestly emotionally abusive, you know? You're the one in the wrong here. How selfish and cruel. How can you do that and not even feel guilty?

It makes you rethink. It makes you question your own sanity. And it makes you apologize. Makes you say you didn't mean it. You find yourself feeling dizzy, disoriented, like everything isn't real and everything is too much. You try to sleep it off.

And he doesn't like delving into the past. He tries to avoid it. Tries to not think about it. Doesn't even really tell you anything until nearly a year in, a drunken confession of sadness and misery. It makes you feel guilty somehow. Poor thing. He's been through a lot, you tell yourself. Maybe you should be more patient and understanding, help him work through it. You can fix him, per se, can't you? Sure, people say that never works, but... He just needs love, really, it's not like he's that bad.

He hates bringing it up like this even more. It just feels weak and vulnerable but it comes out anyway. You're threatening him again, and honestly, that's a sickening thing to do considering what you know, how can you be so vicious?

You're just like everyone else, aren't you?

You're just going to abandon him like this was nothing. You don't care at all. You're heartless. Ungrateful. He's done so much for you. And this is how you repay him, huh? Disappointing, honestly. He thought you were special. Kind. Understanding. Didn't realize you were just as cruel as everyone else in his life, aren't you?

He just has this way of making you doubt yourself. You pull at your hair and cry. I'm going insane. You keep the thought to yourself, but you fall to your knees and promise you're really sorry this time. He sighs. Fine, he'll give you another chance. He's a patient man. You just need to work on yourself, become a less toxic person.

But apparently that's not enough, and eventually you get dumped.

It comes as a surprise. But he says he's had enough of you being so emotionally manipulative and neglectful. You hardly ever spend time with him (like, only 29 days a month? Unbelievable!). You cry and try to make him feel bad, when the things he does aren't that bad. You always claim to be too tired to fuck. You try to gaslight him into thinking all that's acceptable. It's toxic and abusive, so, he's done.

You find yourself in shock. Confusion. It feels unreal. The first thing you worry about is if you can even find a new boyfriend... Your body is completely littered in freeze-burn scars by now, after all.

Were you really in the wrong? You're not too experienced in relationships, maybe he's right about everything he said... Maybe you really did him wrong...

Which is why you come crawling back. Crying. Apologizing.

Exactly as planned.

So he sighs and agrees. Fine. You can have another chance.

The second time, the third time, he always forgives you and takes you back. Even though you don't deserve it. He just loves you so much, you know? He keeps forgiving you.

Until one day you don't show up.

When you leave that time, you seem almost angry. You don't cry this time. Your hands ball into fists and for once, for the first time, as you storm out, you say--

Fine.

Unusual, but you were always moody like that. Odd choice of words. No matter, it's not like you're actually fine with it, you'll come crawling back any minute now.

It's already been several hours. Why aren't you at his doorstep already? Did he make you feel that bad? Maybe he went too far... You're probably just at home crying or something. You'll come back by tomorrow morning.

You don't.

Ok. Maybe you feel too guilty. Maybe you're reflecting on how awful you've been. That would take some time to get over, since you've done so many bad things. It won't be long before you come back.

A day passes. Two days pass.

What's taking you so long?

He finally swallows his pride. Maybe you're being stubborn. Trying to make him feel bad. Yeah, that's something you'd do. Or maybe you're trying to make him feel all alone, take advantage of the one thing you know bothers him. How mean. But he loves you. You know that. So you'll appreciate it when he checks on you, apologizes for maybe going too far, and he really loves you, he loves you so much, so how about you two just go home and forget this ever happened and have lots and lots of makeup sex and cuddle? And then you can tell him you're sorry and love him too and promise to stay forever? He's already got the speech practiced a few times in his head walking over to your place, the one you haven't really lived in for a while now since he demanded you basically move in with him. All your clothes and stuff are at his place now. You would have taken that with you if you ever actually intended to leave, so clearly this is a ploy to get him to come to you, as if that wasn't already obvious.

Your eyes narrow when you open the door and your face contorts with anger. And you snarl that you've had enough. He wants you gone so much, fine, you're more than happy to oblige, you say. You're done. You don't even need your shit, keep it, you'd rather lose your stuff than set foot in that place again. You finally came to your senses and you're fucking done.

You say nasty things. You say he made your life a living hell and you're happy to be rid of him.

And then you say something worse. Something that sets something deep inside off. Something that feels like a stab to the gut.

You say if you'd known the truth about him you would have kicked him out a long time ago.

Maybe it's not about the same thing. Not meant the same way. But it feels too familiar nonetheless.

You see him freeze up. He just stands still for a moment. Not saying anything. Face blank and empty. His eye twitches.

You couldn't care less. Besides, you already have a new boyfriend, one that's nice to you, you tell him with a prideful spite in your voice. One that doesn't have fucking issues. You're not a therapist, you say, and you tell him to figure out his problems on his own, and you slam the door in his face.

Or, you try to. He catches the door before it can close with one hand. Grabs your arm with the other.

For once he doesn't say anything, not until you make him. Just grabs you, drags you down the street by your shirt. It nearly chokes you, but you manage to start to scream. He slams your back into the nearest building, grabs your shoulders and says to shut the fuck up or I'll break your fucking arms. You go wide eyed and scared tears run down you're face. You're scaring me, you plead. Let me go.

But he doesn't. You figure maybe you can talk sense into him when you get there. You don't realize how far gone he is, you don't think that this might be the last time you set foot outside, the last time you see the sun not through a window. You don't think any of the things you'll wish you had down the road.

You've had rough sex before. Not quite like this, though. You can't breathe. You kick and wheeze and cry and claw at the hand around your throat and desperately gasp for what little air you can get in. He only lets go when you black out, lets you take a few breaths, then does it again. You're still so tight. New boyfriend must not have measured up, huh. It's raw and dry and it hurts. You whimper and you cry and you finally apologize like you should have days ago.

And yet, most importantly, you cum. See? You love him. So say it. Say it already. Come on. You do, you stutter, it's quiet and scared, but he smiles nonetheless.

It's ok. He knows you're sorry. He knows you didn't mean those awful things you said. You would never actually abandon him. You're different. Different. Special. Not like everyone else. You won't leave. You won't just leave him somewhere and disappear, you won't die out of nowhere, you won't kick him aside and leave him alone, you're the only person who won't. Different. That's why he loves you so much. You would never do any of that.

You just need help. You're so emotional, you're really not emotionally stable. Controlled by your wildly changing emotions. They make you say things you don't mean. Do things you don't really intend to do. Things you'll just regret if he didn't intervene and help you.

They make you vulnerable to other people. You're so easily controlled. You believe what they want you to believe. And that's dangerous. That could lead you to try to leave again. That's why you have to be helped. Kept away from becoming victim to your own impulses. The only way to do that is keeping you locked away. You'll come to understand with time. Appreciate it. Thank him.

You'll appreciate it because you're different. You'll never leave. You would never leave him even if you had the opportunity.

But maybe it's for the best that you don't have that opportunity to begin with.

#scheduled post #yan.txt #.ky

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secretpeachtea · 3 years ago

Text

he’s a keeper

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x Reader

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 6.4k

Summary: 5 times your boyfriend gives you the wrong gift (+ the one time he gets it right). Kaminari Denki does everything wrong, but he’s still a keeper.

A/N: surprise! i havent really been active, but to prove that im still alive and writing, here you go! this was honestly a super random idea that i had and felt a bit inspired to write. you could think of it as an early christmas gift? let me know what you think!

read on ao3

You’re standing under the huge sakura tree in the middle of the park near your apartment after class with a surprised expression on your face. Kaminari Denki, the man you’ve had a crush on for almost a year, had just confessed to you.

“So, I know you’re probably going to say no, but一”

“Yes.”

“I promise I’ll do everything I can to一wait what?” Denki’s eyes widen as he stops rambling once he realizes what you just said.

You have to hold in the laugh that is bubbling up in your throat at his bewildered expression. ”Yes. I’ll go out with you.”

“Seriously? You aren’t messing with me or anything right? ‘Cause then that would be totally not cool.” The male is conflicted between feeling hopeful and doubtful. You can’t blame him after witnessing him get countlessly rejected by your peers.

“I’m serious. I’ve liked you for a while too.” You pause for a moment before speaking again. “Do you want me to prove it?”

“How would you一ACK!”

Without giving Denki a chance to finish talking, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him towards you with confidence, forcing him to lean down. Your lips crash into each other, and you stay like that for another second or two before pulling back. Denki looks slightly winded and his eyes are practically bugging out of their sockets in shock. The scarlet hues of the setting sun are no match for the fierce blush overtaking his face. “Oh…”

After letting go of his shirt, you give him a couple more seconds for his brain to process what had just happened. He suddenly turns around and raises both of his fists into the air excitedly. “YES!”

This time, you can’t help but laugh at him openly with endearment.

For the next couple weeks, you and Denki go on fun, spontaneous dates and simply enjoy each other’s presence without any major issues. There were times when you knew he felt a bit insecure about your relationship because of his bad dating history, but he always perked back up after you reassure him with loving words and your infamous surprise kisses.

It wasn’t until one evening when Denki came to visit your apartment that a new problem began to stir. You were sitting on the couch when your boyfriend slid his arms around your waist from beside you and curiously watched you excitedly scroll through a tablet he’s never seen before in your possession. “Did you buy a new tablet?”

“Nope! You know my best friend, Shouto, right? He gave me a new tablet as a surprise gift yesterday.” Your eyes are practically sparkling with joy at the device in your hands and this doesn’t go unnoticed. “Normally, I don’t like when he spends so much money on me, but I’ve been wanting this particular tablet for a long time and Shouto has more money than he knows what to do with.”

Denki grows quiet for a moment in thought. He’s met Shouto a couple times since you started dating, and he’s well aware of your friend’s abundant wealth. A part of him is understanding of Shouto’s nature to spend money on the people he cares about, but another part of him feels uneasy about how strongly you’ve reacted to the random gift. A sudden idea pops into Denki’s head and his arms grow a bit tighter around you, but you’re too distracted to notice.

You’ve always known that your boyfriend’s love language was to give as much physical affection as he could whenever you were together, but your gift from Shouto seemed to have provoked his competitive nature in a different way.

And so it begins.

The first gift

You stretch your arms out as you’re waiting for Denki to arrive. The two of you had excitedly planned out a big date today that included having some fun at the arcade, indulging in a romantic dinner, and finally strolling around the city at night. Everything would’ve made today a perfect day if you hadn’t missed your advising appointment that morning.

Normally, you wouldn’t feel too upset about forgetting something like this, but you’ve spent almost a month trying to book an appointment with this particular advisor. Because of their good reputation, it’s almost impossible to set up an appointment when you actually need them. It just makes you a bit more upset that the only reason you forgot was because you were so thrilled for your date. The reminders on your phone were utterly useless against your excitement in spending time with your boyfriend. Perhaps you should find another way to keep track of your schedule.

“Y/N, you’re early! You weren’t waiting too long, were you?” A rush of blonde hair crashes into you and holds you in a tight, yet affectionate embrace.

You chuckle and return the hug before kissing him on the nose. “No, I just got here too.”

A slight blush forms on Denki’s cheeks and you internally pat yourself on the back. Once he pulls back, you notice that he brought his backpack with him. “Did you just get out of class? You don’t normally have your backpack with you on dates.”

“Oh, uh, I actually brought something for you.” Denki shifts the position of his backpack so that he’s wearing it across his chest. He then opens it and pulls out a small blue notebook with a cute baby penguin on the cover. “I saw this weekly planner on sale at the campus bookstore! I know you like to keep things organized, so I thought you might want it!”

You can’t help but beam at Denki and his thoughtfulness. You think back to your predicament this morning and feel a bit surprised at how your boyfriend knew exactly what you needed. Your arms reach out and take the planner from Denki and begin flipping through it.

“Wow, thanks Denki! I actually really needed-” Your words are caught in your throat when you notice something strange about the notebook in your hands.

Denki tilts his head in confusion when the crease between your eyebrows deepen. “Is something wrong?”

You stop on a page that shows all of the months of the year and finally find what’s been bothering you. “The dates don’t match. This is for 2019, Denki.”

Your boyfriend’s eyebrows shoot up in disbelief as he shuffles closer to see with his own eyes. Sure enough, the year 2019 is printed at the top of the page making this planner completely useless for scheduling.

“Oh…I know why it was so cheap then.” Denki lets out a short laugh but the frown on his face says otherwise. “I guess I already ruined our date with this fuck up…”

“No!!” Your sudden shout startles the blonde as you wave your arms in front of you wildly. You clear your throat and lower your arms when your boyfriend gives you a perplexed frown. “I mean… You can’t ruin a date that hasn’t officially started yet, right? We’ve still got a lot to do and… I can use this planner to take notes or use it as a separate journal! Since the dates are wrong anyways, there’s no time limit to figuring out what I want to do with it, so don’t be sad…?”

Despite your rambling, Denki held onto every word you said. He can’t stop the appreciative smile from forming on his lips. “Well, in that case, let me at least make it up to you by winning you all the prizes you want in the arcade? I’ve been going here since middle school, so I know all the tricks!”

You let out a silent sigh of relief at the upturned mood and your successful avoidance of what you’ve labeled as a ‘Distressed Denki’ crisis. Sometimes, your boyfriend will enter into a brief, yet emotional sad slump after something doesn’t go the way he expects. He’ll sit in front of his laptop with a few boxes of cookies and watch a bunch of gaming videos for hours until he falls asleep. It usually lasts the whole day, but he’s back to his normal cheerful self the next day. Both of you were really looking forward to this date, so it would suck if it got ruined by a simple gift.

A gentle tug on your wrist takes you out of your thoughts. When you look up, you’re faced with the electrifying eyes of the man you’ve fallen for. Denki leans forward to place a soft kiss to the top of your forehead and you’re the one pleasantly surprised this time. “Come on! I want to spend as much time as I can having fun with you today!”

With that, you and Denki practically run into the arcade like children. The planner predicament is completely forgotten because of all the excitement buzzing off of the two of you.

Hopefully, there won’t be anymore bad surprise purchases to ruin your day any time soon.

The second gift

“Achoo!”

You let out a miserable sniffle before blowing your nose into a tissue for the umpteenth time today. Unfortunately, your allergies had flared up this morning as soon as you woke up to get ready for your part time job at the manga store. You were glad that you weren’t feeling like this because of a cold, but the constant runny nose and sneezing was getting quite annoying.

“You sure you don’t want to head out early today? You look and sound like shit.” Shinsou, your coworker, grimaces at the stack of used tissues piling up in the trash can that’s basically been glued to your side since the moment you entered the store.

“It’s fine. I’ve only got a half day today, so I’ll just suck it up.” Your nasally words aren’t very convincing to him, but he just shrugs his shoulders.

The bell above the door rings as someone enters the store and you quickly shove a few empty tissue boxes off the counter. You’re about to greet the newcomer, but the words get caught in your throat when you see a massive bouquet of sunflowers making its way to your direction. The bouquet is so big that the only thing you can make out from the person carrying it are their muscular arms.

The flowers are placed on the counter in front of you and Shinsou. You both look at each other in confusion, but a gruff voice catches the two of you off guard. “Who the fuck is Y/N?”

When you look at the owner of the voice, you’re a bit surprised to see a bulky blonde haired man with a deep scowl sporting a red apron that says ‘BOOM AND BLOOMS’. Underneath what you assume to be the name of the flower shop he works at is a short slogan, ‘Flower power, we devour.’ His name tag is a bit smudged, so you can barely make out the letters to spell ‘Bakugou’.

Not exactly the type of person you’d expect to work as a florist, but you’re not one to judge. He does seem like the type of person to lose his patience quickly though, so you answer hastily, “That would be me.”

“This shit’s from your boyfriend.” Bakugou shoves the flowers in your direction a little too roughly and you end up with a face full of flowers. Your nose starts to twitch dangerously at the new source of pollen, and you only have half a second to think oh no before falling victim to an uncomfortable sneezing fit. Shinsou quickly moves the flowers away from you and hands you a new box of tissues.

Bakugou just stares at you with an incredulous expression before slamming something on the counter and walking back to the front door. He doesn’t get paid enough to deal with this. If you and Shinsou weren’t so busy trying to calm your sinuses down, you would’ve heard the grumpy florist grumbling as he left, “Fucking Dunce Face makin’ me do his chores. He can go eat shit.”

A couple minutes pass before you could finally take in a proper breath without sneezing. Both you and Shinsou tiredly slump into your respective chairs. There’s no way you feel up to working another couple hours until the end of your shift. “Hey, Shinsou? On second thought, I think I’ll just go home.”

Your coworker grunts in acknowledgement. “I’ll let bossman know you left early. Don’t forget your flowers.”

“Thanks.”

After taking a deep breath, you stand up and grab your bag to get ready to leave, but something catches your eye. There’s a small card on the counter that was left behind by Bakugou and you curiously open to read what’s inside.

To. Y/N My friend once told me that sunflowers always face the direction of the sun. I miss you when you’re at work but it makes me feel a bit better knowing that at least these sunflowers are able to look at you cause you’re the beautiful sun to my life! -Denki♡

There’s a warm feeling that suddenly encompasses your heart as soon as you read the last word. Despite having an adverse reaction to the surprise gift from Denki, you can tell he had only the best intentions. Without hesitation, you pull out your phone and send a picture of the bouquet to your boyfriend with a short caption: I miss you too.

Denki sends you a reply almost immediately with a bunch of heart emojis. You don’t even notice the growing smile on your face until Shinsou pokes your cheek teasingly. “You’re so fucked.”

“Shut up, you purple haired troll.”

You flip him off as you exit the store and sneeze one last time before the door closes behind you.

The third gift

A deep sigh leaves your lips as you walk out of your last class along with your other peers. The sun hasn’t even set yet, but you’re already exhausted. It’s been a long day, so you’re excited to go home. When you step outside, you’re surprised to see your boyfriend leaning against a tree nearby holding a strange box with one hand.

You wave at your classmates and quickly make your way over to Denki. “Denki! What are you doing here? I thought you said you had to go pick something up?”

Denki’s face brightens up as you come closer and gives you a quick peck on the lips. “I did! I thought you might be hungry after class, so I got you a snack!”

You let Denki take your hand and lead you to a nearby table before sitting in front of each other. Denki places the box on the table and begins to take out its contents including the utensils. “Surprise! I got you a marble cheesecake from that famous bakery a few blocks down!”

You have to hold yourself back from frowning at the reveal. The one little detail that you might’ve forgotten to tell your boyfriend was that you were lactose intolerant. Sure, there are days when you just like to eat ice cream and pizza without a care in the world, but you just want to go home and sleep. You also have an early shift tomorrow, so spending the night on the toilet is not really on your to do list. You’re about to tell Denki that you’re not feeling hungry, but a certain look in his eyes makes you hesitate.

“Man, the line was soooo long to get this thing! I got there an hour ago but didn’t actually get to order until like 10 minutes ago! I had to run here to make sure I got here on time so I didn’t miss you.” Denki tells you all of this with wild hand gestures, but you can only focus on the dreadful thought that he would feel absolutely crushed if you told him you didn’t want to eat the cheesecake. “I know it was probably dumb to wait in line for that long, but I read some really good reviews about the cheesecake and I wanted you to try it…”

After hearing all of that, there was no way you were going to break his heart. You grab a large slice of the dessert and cut off a sizable piece with your fork. With a determined huff, you practically shove the whole piece past your lips. Despite your initial reluctance, the cheesecake does indeed taste heavenly.

Denki stares at you with wide eyes and stays speechless until you swallow. His face breaks out into a relieved grin. “Wow...you were pretty hungry, huh. Glad you like it though!”

For the next couple minutes, you both have some lighthearted conversations about your days while finishing up your respective slices. You start to feel a slight twinge in your stomach, but opt to ignore it for the time being since you were enjoying your time with Denki. Another minute or two passes and the pain only continues to grow before you know exactly what might happen if you don’t get home soon.

You muster up a strained smile. “I’d hate to leave so soon, but I think I’m gonna head back home. It’s been a long day, so I wanna rest.”

“Oh, sure! Do you want me to take you home?” Denki asks as he starts packing up the rest of the cheesecake.

“No, it’s fine. I brought my car today. Thanks for the snack! I’ll see you tomorrow after work.” You stand up and get ready to walk to your car, but a hand on your wrist stops you.

“Wait! You forgot the cheesecake!” Denki lifts your arm to place the box in your hand.

You grimace. “No, no! It’s okay! You can take it! You spent a lot of time to get it. Share it with your roommate if you want!”

The blonde momentarily gives you a confused look, but it quickly shifts to a bright smile. “Nah, I think you deserve it way more than Sero. You looked like you really liked it, so I want you to have it!”

At this point, the only thing you can think about is getting home. There’s no way you’ll be able to convince him to keep it in the next few minutes, so you hastily take the cheesecake into your arms. You don’t forget to kiss your boyfriend on the cheek before speed-walking away. “Bye, Denki!”

Once you’re out of sight, you run. You could go into one of the school bathrooms, but you’re not a big fan of sitting in a public restroom while literally spilling your guts out. You do not want to relive those high school memories. There are still a couple students loitering around that give you a funny look at your fast pace, but you just don’t care. As soon as you get into your car, you roughly place the cheesecake in the passenger seat and start driving to your apartment. You don’t live too far from campus, but it sure does feel like an eternity before you pull into your parking lot.

With the cheesecake box in one hand and your keys in the other, you rush up the stairs to your floor and practically rip open your door after trying to unlock it three times. You throw your bag on the floor after locking the door behind you and shove the cheesecake onto the kitchen counter. You sprint to the bathroom like a madman and don’t even bother closing the door before sitting yourself down on the toilet.

Not your greatest moment but still better than high school.

After the worst of it, you check your cabinets for medication, but the universe decided that today would be the day you faced the consequences of not restocking. You defeatedly trek back to your living room and flop onto the couch. There’s still some discomfort in your stomach and you know there will be a few more trips to the bathroom for a while before you could go to sleep. You let out a frustrated groan at the thought of going to work the next day. Once he finds out why you’re so exhausted at work, Shinsou was definitely going to give you shit tomorrow. No pun intended.

The dessert box on the counter stares at you mockingly. There’s a part of you that wants to chuck it out your window, but the softer side you can’t seem to forget how much effort Denki put into buying it. You might just secretly give the rest of it to Shinsou or Shouto so it doesn't end up in the trash.

You still remember the smile your boyfriend gave you after you took a bite out of the cheesecake that was just as sweet as the dessert itself.

Was it worth it? Maybe.

The fourth gift

A soft hum leaves your lips as you leisurely stir your pasta sauce in the pot. Your boyfriend should be arriving any minute now, so you start setting the table to get ready for dinner. After listening to Denki tell you about his rough week in his classes, you decided to treat him with a homemade dinner at your apartment instead of going out for your date this week and he was more than happy to try your cooking.

Just as you finish straining the noodles, there’s a loud knock on your door. After wiping your hands on a towel, you make your way to the front door and open it to see Denki standing there with a bright grin on his face.

“Hey, beautiful!”

Your boyfriend greets you lovingly with a small kiss just as he usually does, but your eyes get caught on a large bag hanging from his fingers. You eye it curiously as Denki walks inside and closes the door. “What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s just a small thing that I picked up for you on my way back home from class yesterday! I’ll let you open it after we eat.”

You’re about to ask him more about it, but Denki’s stomach growls in hunger as a distraction. Both of you laugh, and he sits down at the table as you serve the food. A light blush paints your cheeks when he animatedly compliments your cooking and eagerly devours everything in a couple minutes before asking for another plate.

Once you finish eating, Denki offers to do the dishes while you set everything up to watch a movie together. You’ve decided on an action film, and placed two mugs of juice on the coffee table. After a few minutes, you both settle down on the couch and Denki sets the large mystery bag on his lap. “Since we’re gonna be chillin’ on the couch for our date, I thought I’d bring this!”

He giddily claps his hands together before pulling out…a green blanket?

“I noticed that you don’t have a lot of green in your apartment, so I’ve decided to change that!”

The gesture is sweet. There’s nothing wrong with the gift… except for the fact that you fucking hate the color green. You didn’t always have such a strong resentment for the color. In fact, it used to be one of your favorites. That was all before you came to associate the color green with your ex.

It’s already been over a year since you broke up with your ex-boyfriend, but the way he wrongfully treated you still lingers in your mind today. He was never physically abusive, but his manipulative words shattered your heart on multiple occasions and all of it was said while he wore his favorite green hoodie in his apartment that was decked with green furniture. He wore that stupid article of clothing so often that you can’t even remember the last time he washed it. It doesn’t help that the blanket has a similar texture.

“Thanks.”

In his excitement to start your movie night, Denki doesn’t notice the slight tremble in your voice or the stiffness of your limbs when he drapes the blanket over the two of you. It sits on your shoulders like a heavy rock threatening to crush you. The movie starts, but no amount of explosives or toppling buildings on the screen could distract you from the storm brewing in your head. It almost feels like an itch that you can’t reach, and it frustrates you to no end. A simple color shouldn’t be bothering you this much, but you can’t help it. This was supposed to be a relaxing date night with the boyfriend you’ve come to love now but glimpses of your ex have ruined it.

You try your best to seem unbothered, but you can’t stop yourself from letting out a quiet sniffle. With how close Denki is, there’s no way he missed the noise. The blonde’s head snaps to the side alarmingly and tightens his arm around your shoulders. “You good? Is something wrong?”

“No, I’m fine.” Even to your own ears, you don’t sound ‘fine’.

Denki quickly pauses the movie and shifts his body so that he’s facing you. “You don’t sound okay. Can you tell me why you’re upset?...D-did I do something wrong?”

“Well…you didn’t really…” You look down and try to think of a way to tell your boyfriend how you feel without troubling him too much. “My last relationship was pretty toxic, and my ex said a lot of things that really hurt me. He had a hoodie that he wore all the time and he always bought things in a specific color and um…it’s the same color as the blanket, so…yeah. Don’t worry. It’s my fault for feeling this way.”

Denki silently stares at you for a moment before running a hand through his hair in a stressed manner. His eyebrows are furrowed and his frown mirrors your own. “Oh…sorry. I didn’t mean to make you remember such a horrible guy.”

You quickly raise your head and clasp onto one of his hands. “No! Don’t apologize. There’s no way you would’ve known because I never told you. This isn’t your fault.”

The blonde stares into your eyes with purpose and grasps onto both your hands in his. He gives you a reassuring squeeze. “Then, the way you feel isn’t your fault either. He was an asshole, and you deserve so much better.”

Denki��s hands shift upwards and cup your face affectionately. “But, hey. You can’t avoid the color green forever, so why don’t we just make better memories together?”

Your eyes widen in surprise, not expecting Denki to lift the mood so fast. He usually stays upset for a while when it comes to a bit more serious topics, so you appreciate the effort he’s putting into making sure you were happy. “You know, you’re really cool, Denki.”

The man beams at you and then proceeds to stand up to stretch his arms. “The first step to making better memories is good food. I say this calls for some ice cream!”

Thank goodness you stocked up on lactose free ice cream last week.

Before you knew it, you and Denki were sitting on the floor with a tub of ice cream resting on your coffee table. The blanket was draped across your legs, but it no longer had an uncomfortable weight accompanying it. Your boyfriend grabs a large scoop of the dessert in one hand and raises it into the air. “As my friend always says一Your ex can go eat shit!”

The movie night resumes, but the air is filled with your laughter instead. You don’t think the old memories with the color green would ever fade completely, but maybe adding a little more of the color in your life wouldn’t be too bad now that you’ve also associated it with Denki.

A little voice in your head tells you that the problem from today could’ve been avoided if you had just told Denki that you weren’t a fan of his gift giving skills (or lack thereof) earlier, but your stubbornness has won you over once again.

After tonight, it couldn’t get any worse than this, right?

The fifth gift

You probably should’ve seen it coming with how much you’ve brushed off all of the gifts Denki has given you. You should’ve known that there would be a pretty big consequence to your own ignorance, and you can’t believe you didn’t realize your mistake until things went too far.

It all started when you visited Denki’s apartment to relax and spend some time with him after the end of finals. You were both clad in comfy pajamas, and Denki’s roommate was out for the rest of the day, so there was no need to leave any time soon.

You expected the day to be chill with no worries now that you were on break, but your boyfriend was anything but calm. His leg had been nervously bouncing up and down for the past 30 minutes, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could wait for him to speak up about what was bothering him. Ultimately, you decided to break the silence first. “Alright, Denki. What’s going on in your pretty little head?”

Denki's whole body freezes at your sudden question. He thinks for a moment as if contemplating on whether or not to tell you but eventually gives in and lets out a deep sigh. “There’s something I want to talk to you about, but before that, let me go get something really quick.”

The blonde doesn’t give you a chance to reply and hastily makes his way into his bedroom. When he walks back to where you are, he has a medium sized box in his arms. That’s not a good sign.

Denki clears his throat. “I was going to give this to you after dinner, but I think my head is gonna explode if I don’t do this now.”

He hands you the box and watches anxiously as you slowly open the lid. As soon as your eyes focus on the objects in front of you, your mouth drops. You aren’t sure what you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t what was in your hands at this moment. “Denki, I adore you. I really do. But, why the fuck are you giving me baby shoes?!”

Perhaps you could’ve said that a bit less dramatically since Denki was clearly on edge at your tone, but your bafflement has gotten rid of every filter. You pray to the universe that this isn’t for what you think it is. You are not ready to have children.

“Wait! Here me out!” Denki raises his arms in front of him defensively. Your curiosity gets the best of you and you sit still with your arms crossed as he starts rambling. “The other day I overheard you talking to your mom on the phone and you were making a lot of cooing noises. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I wanted to know what made you so happy, so I listened in for a bit longer. You kept saying stuff like ‘my baby’ and how you couldn’t wait to see ‘your little ball of sunshine’. I came up with the conclusion that you might’ve had a secret kid and…I wanted to buy you something to show you that I want to support you.”

Your eyes are still wide by the end of explanation. You’re glad that Denki’s gift wasn’t hinting at the fact that he wanted to have a child with you, but his thoughts were still ridiculous. You take a deep breath before speaking, “Why did you think I would keep something like this from you?”

“I-I thought you might’ve felt embarrassed or too scared to tell me. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, and I wanted to wait for you to tell me, but then I found these cute shoes…” Denki’s voice stutters with uncertainty.

You mentally facepalm. “Denki. I don’t have a child. I was talking to my dog.”

. . .

“Oh…oh.”

There’s about a minute of awkward silence before you both burst out laughing. The tension completely dissipates and Denki even falls off the couch from laughing so hard. Your sides start to become sore and you need another minute or two to calm down. You wipe the tears from your eyes as Denki plops back onto the couch next to you. “Man, it sure sucks that I spent so much on these. Sero’s going to kill me when he finds out I couldn’t pay rent ‘cause of a misunderstanding.”

“What?”

Your boyfriend’s shoulders tense up again and he tries his best to backtrack. “Uh…I mean…Nothing!’

“Denki, how much did you spend on these shoes?” Your voice is calm, but there’s an unsettling dip in your stomach. Your eyes are sharp and if looks could kill, Denki would be six feet under.

“O-only maybe like a couple hundred…?” His voice lowers to a mumble by the end of his sentence, but you heard it loud and clear.

“Denki!”

Denki cowers. “Okay, okay! I know it sounds bad, but I’ll return these and pay Sero back! I’ll even do it by the end of this week!”

You’re going to have to buy Sero coffee one day to make up for his roommate’s careless mistake.

You pinch the bridge of your nose in distress at Denki’s impulsiveness and think back on all the times he’s given you a gift. This has to come to an end now. The last thing you want to see is your boyfriend sitting out on the streets in a cardboard box asking for spare change because you were too much of an idiot to talk to him about your concerns.

“You need to stop giving me stuff.”

Denki furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Might as well just rip the bandaid off. “Denki, you’re terrible at giving gifts.”

The man dramatically gasps in disbelief, but you just continue, “I appreciate you, and I love spending time with you, but I don’t want any more of these surprises. Sure, I find a way to make good memories with them, but if it means that you have to sacrifice your comfort and financial stability, I don’t want it. I’d rather cuddle with you for hours and be satisfied with just being with you.”

Denki sports a shocked expression but eventually nods his head in understanding. He stares deeply into your eyes before leaning forward and bringing you into his arms in a warm embrace. “Okay. Message received. We can talk about this more later, but I’ll stop giving you surprise gifts and just give you lots of hugs instead.”

You giggle and your shoulders sag with relief. With that problem out of the way, a part of you still wants to tease him. “I hope that offer also comes with lots of kisses?”

He answers by smashing his lips into yours without any hesitation. A warm feeling encompasses your heart and you really hope Denki’s roommate doesn’t come home early to ruin the moment. This was definitely a lot better than baby shoes.

The right gift

It’s been a couple years since you and Denki have started dating. Both of you have graduated from college and have begun your lives into adulthood. You decided to move in together and have found stable jobs near the shared apartment. After the ‘gift incident’ in college, you and your boyfriend have decided to forgo gift exchanges in general unless you both knew for sure what the other wanted after double checking. You thought he had gotten over that phase in his life, which is why you're completely caught off guard when he asks you to close your eyes for a surprise during an anniversary date at an amusement park that you’ve both come to love. You’re sitting side-by-side inside of a Ferris wheel cabin near the top of the wheel.

“Denki, we’ve been over this.”

“I know, I know! I promise you can trust me.” The blonde tries to reassure you as much as he can, but you can’t stop the uneasiness from creeping up on you.

He wipes his hands on his pants and takes something out of his jacket pocket. “Shit…why am I so nervous all of a sudden…Y-you can open your eyes now.”

When you do as he says, your eyes make a beeline for the small cubical box that’s settled into his palm. Your heart stops when you realize what it might be.

Denki clears his throat and takes a deep breath. “I know we had a bit of a rough start because of my stupidity and jealousy, but we’ve also been through a lot of happy moments together. You’ve always been patient with me, and even when I basically gave you diarrhea that one time, you never yelled at me or made me feel dumb like a lot of the people I used to hang out with. In college, you didn’t judge me when I had to retake my calc class or laugh at me when I got fired from my part-time job.”

“You mean a lot to me…like a lot. And, there isn’t anyone I’d rather hug, or kiss, or cuddle until one of us has to pee一ehem. What I’m trying to say is that I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you until we both grow old and senile. The only way to do that is if you maybe want to marry me?”

Denki opens the box in his hands to reveal a simple ring with a small diamond stone at the center. There’s nothing flamboyant or extraordinary about the design, but the simplicity of it is exactly to your taste. The diamond isn’t too overbearing, and you can’t help but admire how it shines under the sunset sky.

“I know you might’ve felt burdened if I bought something bigger, and this caught my eye as soon as I walked into the store. I saved up for this for a while too一”

“Yes.”

“一’cause I didn’t want you to worry that I couldn’t pay rent or something- wait what?”

A sense of déjà vu flickers in your mind, and a brief memory of the day you started dating makes you smile even wider. “Yes, I will marry you. I love you too.”

You know that if you weren’t inside of a flimsy Ferris wheel cabin, the blonde would’ve jumped up with his fists in the air in bliss. He slots the ring onto your finger and it's a perfect fit. You both lean in to share a deep kiss and you wish the moment could last forever. Once you pull away, Denki places his forehead on yours fondly.

“Did I get it right this time?”

“Yes, Denki. You absolutely did.”

A/N: kaminari denki rights !!

#kaminari denki #gifts #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #kaminari x reader #denki x reader #secretpeachtea

75 notes · View notes

boldlyvoid · 4 years ago

Text

the guy at the rock show

she/they reader x Spencer Reid

request for @boba-king-iroh ♥︎

summary: Y/N lost their parents when they were 17, finding a new home and solace in Penelope Garcia and taking the Garcia name. They're the top forensic specialist in D.C, in a band and they drive a motorcycle... not to mention they are madly in love with the cute doctor who works with their sister.

warnings: fluff, mutual pining, getting together, love confessions, friends to lovers, idiots in love, PDA, secret relationships

word count: 5666

a/n: there will be a smutty part 2 eventually because I can't not do that

THE PLAYLIST THAT GOES WITH THEIR SETLIST IF YOU WANT TO LISTEN WHILE YOU READ

Read on Ao3 here!

Taking Garcia’s last name wasn’t something they had to think hard about, Penelope basically raised them; she was like a sister, a best friend and a mother, even a bit of a fairy godmother to Y/N.

They met when Y/N was 17, they were sitting at a support group for dead parents in D.C. Right beside the lovely, overly cheerful, always helpful, Penelope Garcia. At first, Y/N couldn’t stand her, wondering how a person like that could be running a group for mourning people, it made her sick.

It wasn’t until she heard Penelope’s story for the first time, knowing how similar it sounded to her own and how, actually, you can take your grief and turn it into something beautiful. After the meeting, they pulled Penelope aside and gave her a big hug and a thank you.

It was the start of a lovely friendship, one Y/N didn’t know they needed until they were smothered in all the love you could possibly imagine.

The age gap between them wasn’t too big, Penelope was 10 years older than them which meant she was always one step ahead of Y/N and full of advice. Be it fashion, boys, girls and everything in between. They bonded in a way that was unbreakable, they were each other's family.

Penelope even helped her get into med school before she eventually switched to forensic science. Taking on the FBI academy, unlike Penelope, and joining the bureau officially. Penelope was there for her every single step of the way, making her career possible. She loved her dearly and wanted Y/N to succeed more than anyone in the world.

Getting to introduce herself to people as Agent Y/N Garcia, not to be confused with technical analyst Garcia, was one of the best feelings in the world.

Not many people ever mistook them, however, for whatever Penelope was, Y/N was the exact opposite.

Y/N preferred all black everything, she didn’t enjoy partying or close contact or the in-your-face-ness of Penelope’s way of life, she loved her band and motorcycle and being alone. They were quote-unquote edgy, not just for effect, but because it was how they felt the most comfortable, it was who they were and they liked it that way.

They were possibly the best Forensic Specialist the FBI had, keeping her in DC for all the most important cases. Helping her avoid Penelope and the BAU team as much as possible. They were great people, she didn’t hate them at all, it was just a lot of energy that they didn’t have to give to 7 other people all day long.

Spencer was the only one she could tolerate. Rather, he was the one she wanted to spend the most time with, even more than Penelope. He understood Y/N in a way others didn’t.

He was also quiet, like them, he didn’t pick on them or call them mini Garcia, baby-baby girl, or infant as some of them started to call her more recently.

He called them Y/N, he talked to them about star trek whenever he was visiting Penny, and he respected their pronouns. Using both she and they interchangeably, when he spoke of them, unlike most people who only used she and her because it made more sense in their small brains.

However, she wasn’t the only one who got teased. Spencer did as well, almost more because he was around the BAU team constantly. She hated hearing them bully him, he didn’t even count it as bullying but it’s basically what it was sometimes.

They put him down, they didn’t clue him in on things, they called out his stims and didn’t let him finish his sentences, especially when it had to do with his hyper-fixations. He was the brightest light in the room and they just picked his brain till he wasn’t useful anymore, before trying to turn out the light. It made Y/N furious.

They got called Mr and misses genius when they were on a scene together, remembering the first time she ever had a case with the BAU which was also the first time she snapped at someone for being mean to Spencer.

Someone asked Spencer a serious question, to which he did his fucking job and answered. Giving as much detail as humanly possible, being the absolute genius he is and should be praised for, only to have Emily poke him in the cheek and say; “wow, he’s so life-like?”

“Well yeah, cause he’s a fucking human who deserves respect from the people who use his brain all day,” Y/N cursed under their breath from the crime scene, just loud enough for everyone to hear.

Leaving the sweetest man on earth to find them later and give them a hug. Thanking them for all that they do, and appreciating what he has to offer. That’s when she realized she liked him, more than just the guy who sometimes sleeps on her couch because he’s friends with her sister.

It was difficult being surrounded by men unlike Spencer, specifically the older men in her field who didn’t understand anything outside of money, guns, and violence. The worst part of the job being the politics in the background; the hierarchy and ass-kissing all because she worked in the nation's capital.

They were sure it was probably better in a smaller facility, a local police station where no one knew her and they could finally have some peace and quiet.

But she’d miss Penelope, and Spencer too for that matter.

At first, they’d hide in their room when Penelope brought him over for movie nights or when he crashed on the couch after bringing her home drunk from the bar. In the early days, she worried that he was going to be her new boyfriend, taking all of Penelope’s free time and leaving Y/N with nothing.

But then he started coming over all the time just to hang out, sitting on the couch with nothing to say, being the third wheel while Y/N and Penelope spent time together. For the last 7 years.

Over that time they had many conversations alone, she learned that he was really smart, he was a lot younger than most of the team because he blew through high school by the time he was 13, and he was genuinely the sweetest man in the whole entire world.

One time, Penelope was running late when Spencer showed up at the door with chips and candy, ready to watch his weekly movie with his friend. Only she wasn’t going to make it home in time, and Y/N didn’t want him to have to go back to his apartment all alone.

“You can come in and watch it with me if you wanted to?” She offered, smiling softly. “What was it you picked for tonight?”

“It was Penelope’s night to choose, so you can pick instead if you want?” Spencer offered right back, walking in like he owned the place.

He was more confident now than he was in the beginning, but that was probably because he was 23 and she was 18.

Back then he’d barely look at her and sometimes he’d shake when they made eye contact or when she got drunk and hugged him goodbye after a long night with Penelope. He was like that with Penny in the early days of their friendship too, apparently, so she didn’t feel too bad about it.

He warmed up eventually, making her wait 7 years for him to do something about the growing feelings they both shared.

“You like Marvel movies right?” She bit the inside of her lip as she waited for his answer. Watching him walk around the kitchen for a bowl that he could put his snacks in.

“Yeah they’re great, I haven’t watched past the second Thor, I think the next one is another Captain America?” he’s all smiles as he joins her on the couch, closer than normal, as close as he’d sit with Penelope, but then again she was a cuddler and Y/N wasn’t.

Sometimes Y/N would come out of her room to find Spencer’s head on Penelope’s lap, resting on a pillow as she ran her fingers through his hair to soothe his perfect mind after a long day. A few times she’s walked in on him crying or even sound asleep in her arms. They had a friendship Y/N admired, they were each other's person.

They comforted each other in the exact way they needed it; Penelope giving him the physical touch he craved and he would often compliment her. He was always telling her she was the best and buying her gifts to show his appreciation, calling her the most beautiful and smartest person he knew. He knew that she needed to hear it, needed the reassurance that she was still a good person and he made her believe it.

It made Y/N love him more seeing how much he cared for her sister.

“The winter soldier is the best!” She gushed, sitting close so they could share the chips as she waited for the movie to load up.

He was very quiet when he watched movies, smiling and laughing at the right parts but typically he paid so much attention it was like he was a statue. Y/N spent more time glancing at him than the actual movie.

“Is there something on my face?” Spencer asked, nervous when he noticed her glance at him for the 100th time that night.

“Oh, no you don’t,” she panicked lightly, swallowing quickly before looking away.

“What?”

“I don’t know, I just think you’re fascinating,” she whispered because then she didn’t really say it, and it didn’t really count.

“Oh,” he smiled softly, leaving it at that and forcing his attention back on the movie.

After a while, Spencer started to get even closer. He put the bowl on the coffee table and sat back almost on top of her, reaching an arm behind the couch so that Y/N was right against his side. He had done it with Penelope before, confident in this little living room, almost forgetting it was Y/N beside him.

Y/N rested her hand on his knee, rubbing her thumb over his jeans in a soft little circle as she pretended to watch the movie. More concerned with Spencer’s breathing and the feeling of his hand inching towards their shoulder than anything else.

Then they heard keys at the front door. Pulling away from each other quickly to curl up on opposite sides of the couch and pretend they weren’t just cuddling.

“Hey, you still came!” Penelope cheered, a little drunk from whatever she was doing before.

“I’d never miss a night with the Garcia’s,” Spencer smiled at her, looking calm and collected as ever while Y/N turned bright pink.

“Oh, I love Bucky! Oh my god let me go change and I’ll come watch too!”

That was just the first time they ended up cuddling, certainly not the last.

—

It wasn’t often that Penelope was too busy to spend time with Y/N, rather the contrary. Sometimes Y/N had to beg her to leave her be at certain events. Like when their band was playing at any of the local bars and Penny started inviting everyone she knew to come and watch her sister play.

It was embarrassing, to say the least, but Y/N loved her support.

When Y/N peaked her head out to see the crowd before a show, normally Penelope was sitting in the front with a drink and at least 4 friends, cheering and chanting their name, ready to rock out to their covers.

Tonight she didn’t see Penelope at all, she knew she wouldn’t, Penelope was in London visiting Emily with Derek for the second time in the past year, leaving no one to come to the monthly show Y/N’s band put on, or so she thought.

Spencer came all by himself.

He was sitting in the front, at a table with a bowl of pretzels and a ginger ale, not interested in the drinking or the socializing, just there to support Y/N. It made her feel giddy, like a schoolchild seeing their crush at recess.

It was so nice of him that it gave her butterflies, and normally that didn’t happen. They could go on and play a show in front of ten thousand people and feel nothing, but the second Spencer Reid was there to cheer them on, they were a mess.

“What song are we doing first again?” Y/N asked Evie, their lead singer and best friend outside of work.

“Who are they?”

Y/N was taken aback, “What?”

“You’ve never been nervous, who came to see you?” Evie clarified her question.

“No one, for fuck sake, I thought we left all the profilers at home tonight?” she sighed, shaking the nerves out of their body as they jumped up and down lightly.

They paced back and forth for a few minutes to wear down the nerves but only managing to make herself sweat to death and discard the leather jacket she always wore on stage. She walked in a circle aimlessly, remembering the setlist in their mind and how the spotlights typically made it so they couldn’t see the crowd anyway so it’s not like she could fuck up by making eye contact with him.

And it’s not like it was the first time he had seen her play, Spencer comes every month with Penelope, he liked a lot of the music they covered from when he was an emo teen in university. They’ve bonded over it before sharing albums and records back and forth, but she was still scared shitless at the prospect of him caring about her enough to come alone.

Especially when he hated being in situations like this in the first place.

It was their turn to go on, the manager of the bar gathering them and telling them to go on and so Y/N started walking towards the stage door, only to be pulled back harshly by Evie’s cold hands.

“Don’t forget your sticks, god who do you wanna fuck so bad it makes you this stupid?” She placed the drumsticks in Y/N’s hands, “get it together.”

“Sorry, it’s the guy in the sweater vest, front row,” they whispered in response, putting their head down and heading to the stage before she could tease them about it.

“The Forensic Lyricists are here once again folks!” The Manager introduced them to the crown, “get ready for them to dig up some classics!” Always the same dumb joke before every show.

Opening with crushcrushcrush by Paramore, thank god she remembered, it was an easy song to play as they warmed up and pushed the nerves away. They could play it in their sleep, with their eyes closed, and so that's what they did.

Eyes closed, mouthing the words as the adrenaline of the night took over the anxiety and made them go insane, like most nights. They didn’t need drinks or drugs to feel hyped at most shows, all she needed was a smile from penny and a good luck text from Spencer.

Playing by memory until she felt more confident and then getting into it. “They taped over your mouth, Scribbled out the truth with their lies, your little spies…”

“Crush, crush, crush, crush crush two, three, four!!” Y/N sung backup for each chorus, finally getting into it.

“Nothing compares to, a quiet evening alone! Just the one, two! of us who's counting on! That never happens, I guess I'm dreaming again.”

They tried their hardest to push the images of that night on the couch with Spencer out of their mind as they sang along, trying to harmonize and cover the backup for Evie as best as she could.

“Let’s be more than this now!”

She always took the bridge, as the drummer and the most passionate one, it only made sense. Y/N always got the crowd on their feet, roaring along as they jumped to the beat.

“Rock and roll, baby, Don't you know that we're all alone now? I need something to sing about. Rock and roll, hey! Don't you know, baby, we're all alone now? I need something to sing about! Rock and roll, hey! Don't you know, baby, we're all alone now? Give me something to sing about!”

“Nothing compares to, a quiet evening alone! Just the one, two! of us who's counting on! That never happens, I guess I'm dreaming again, let’s be more than, noOoo!”

She had a crush on Spencer fucking Reid and one now noticed as they tried their hardest to focus on the words when all that came to mind right now was his body heat and how good he smelled and how nice it was that he came to support them.

“Nothing compares to, a quiet evening alone! Just the one, two! of us who's counting on! That never happens, I guess I'm dreaming again, Let’s be more than this, more than thiiiiiis, oooooooh, mmmmmmhmmm,” she sang the ending of the song along with Evie, their harmony sounding more perfect than any performance before.

Critics always said the performance is better when you mean the words you’re singing. With that, they accepted their crush on Doctor Spencer Reid after 7 long years of knowing him. They pushed through nerves so that they could go and see him after and do something about it, now that Penelope wasn’t home to tease her for it.

Leading right into Dear Maria, Count Me In. Their bass player, Kat taking the lead for her favourite song. Being an all ‘girl’ punk band was her idea, and now they all enjoyed taking turns singing their favourite songs in front of mostly strangers, once a month.

Every single song made her think of Spencer in some way as she remembered the rest of the set, it had 5 songs in total and each one included at least one reference to something she knew about Spencer.

It was hard to not think about him while he stood at the edge of the stage with everyone and bopped his head along to the beat, a smile growing on his face as he also noticed the little references to them in the songs.

The Rock Show by Blink182 was going to hit a little too close to home as she sang the words all but to him, making eye contact with him as he moved to the best spot to see them play, much like Penelope would do every time.

She didn’t realize how much this song actually represented her life before tonight, starting to sing her song alone while Spencer watched. Deciding on the spot to dedicate it to him in the most fucking obvious way possible, taking her chances because he must have come for a reason.

“Hanging out behind the club on the weekends. Acting stupid, getting drunk with my best friends, I couldn't wait for the summer and the Warped Tour, I remember that it's the first time that I saw him there!”

Spencer was smiling then, noticing the lyric change as they made eye contact, nodding along as he watched. Genuinely enjoying himself and the show, it was lovely to see. She couldn’t help but smile against the mic as she sang and played. Wondering how his face will change with the next verse she watched him from the corner of her eye.

Her bandmates turning to see her as they played their guitars, nodding in agreement at the lyric change, they knew what she was up to. It wasn’t the first time they used the stage to bring someone home with them.

“He's getting kicked out of school cause he's failing. I’m kinda nervous, cause I’m sure all his friends hate me! He’s the one, he'll always be there, I took his hand and I’ll make it I swear,

“Because I fell in love with the guy at the rock show! He said what? and I told him that I didn't know. He's so cool, gonna sneak in through his window. Everything's better when he's around. Can’t wait until my parent goes out of town, I fell in love with the guy at the rock show!”

Spencer’s smile was priceless, it made them even more confident to sing all the words, wanting him with zero shame, it’s not like anyone who knew him would know about this.

“When we said we were gonna move to Vegas I remember the look your mother gave us 17 without a purpose or direction We don't owe anyone a fuckin’ explanation”

“Black and white picture of him on my wall, I waited for his call, he always kept me waiting, and if I ever got another chance I'd still ask him to dance, because he kept me waiting!”

“I fell in love with the guy at the rock show! He said what? and I told him that I didn't know. He's so cool, gonna sneak in through his window. Everything's better when he's around. Can’t wait until my parent goes out of town,”

“I fell in love with the guy at the rock show!” She had never been this passionate while playing this song in all the years they had played it together.

Her bandmates taking the lead singing, “with the guy at the rock show!”

“I’ll never forget you,” she sang in the middle of their chants, “I’ll never forget you, I’ll never forget you, I’ll never forget tonight, I’ll never forget tonight…”

She shot a wink at him before turning back in her seat to face the drum set the best way. The last two songs were Evie’s and Kat’s, she covered the backup vocals, making the occasional glance towards Spence as she thought of him.

Counting down the minutes till she could go see him.

Come a little closer by cage the elephant, an obvious title with lyrics that would clearly bring every memory of brushed hands against lower backs as they slipped past each other in crowded rooms, lingering as long as possible before they were gone again. Goodnight hugs when Penelope was already asleep and he could hold her a big longer and tighter, resting his head on her shoulder while she rubbed his back and breathed him in. And that night on the couch, not to mention all the mornings she walked in on him sleeping peacefully, brushing the hair out of his face, softly, in the hopes he didn’t wake up.

“Come a little closer, then you'll see, Come on, come on, come on, Things aren't always what they seem to be… Do you understand the things you been seein' Come on, come on, come on! Do you understand the things that you've been dreaming… Come a little closer, then you'll see! Come a little closer, then you'll see!”

And even when he did she had a coffee ready for him when he sat up and smiled, giving them a few hours alone before Penelope would wake up. Talking all morning about star trek and dr. Who, smacking his knee as he made jokes that genuinely made them laugh while trying to keep her voice down so they didn’t wake Penelope.

Not many people made her feel like that in her life.

“Come a little closer, then you'll see! Come a little closer, then you'll see!” Staring at him, enticing him to do it the next time they had the chance.

The intro to I’d Do Anything by simple plan was one of her favourites to play, smiling wide as she began to drum as her best friends sang the words.

Waiting for the chorus to sing the words at Spencer, really sending the message, he wasn’t dumb, not in the slightest, he would get it. He had to, she had already been so obvious there was no turning back now.

“This could be the one last chance to make you understand,”

Her arms were starting to hurt as she played along with the most energy she has had in years, playing like a teenager whose parents just died and she needed to hit something, once again. It was freeing, playing with what she could only imagine was love in her chest instead of anger. It’s how she was supposed to play.

"I’d do anything Just to hold you in my arms To try to make you laugh Cuz somehow I can’t put you in the past I’d do anything Just to fall asleep with you Will you remember me? Cuz I know I won’t forget you,"

Focusing on the drumming and ignoring the lyrics as her bandmates covered the lyrics, letting her go hog fucking wild on the drum set, almost kicking the chair out from under herself as they kept going. Joining for the chorus again before beating the shit out of her drum set.

I close my eyes And all I see is you I close my eyes I try to sleep I can't forget you Na na na And I'd do anything for you Na na na Naaaaaaa

“I’d do anything!” She closed her eyes as she pushes the words past her vocal cords, again and again, passionately playing the drums as her hair flew all over the place, worried she might break the sticks as she played.

“Cause I know I won't forget yoooou!” She plays the end of the song, snapping the left drumstick in half before throwing the right one into the crowd, right into Spencer’s hand, sending him a wink before saying goodbye to the crowd.

Sweaty as hell from playing the drums, they brushed their long black hair back behind their ears and in a low ponytail so it would fit under her motorcycle helmet on the way home. Putting their leather jacket back on and heading into the main bar to find Spencer.

“Hey,” he smiled as she walked towards him, the drumstick now resting in his pocket as he approached her.

“I can’t believe you came here all by yourself?” Y/N laughed slightly before pulling him into a thank-you hug.

“I wouldn’t miss it, I’ve been coming for a year now, it’s always a great time,” his smile was perfect, his teeth were so white and straight and she wondered how they’d feel against her neck.

“It’s been that long?” She pretended that she didn’t notice, biting their lip as he ran the calculations in his mind.

He nodded with a soft, pressed-lipped smile, the Spencer classic. “Yep, it’s been exactly 14 months straight now.”

“I know you don’t like bars and loud noises and people you don’t know, or germs which makes this like a nightmare of yours I guess because of the close proximity of people and the germs being spread as everyone screams in a crowd,” she ranted before he was pulling her into another hug, “so this means a lot to me,” she finished her thought beside his ear for only him to hear.

“Anytime,” he whispered as he held her, his arm on her back and chin resting on her shoulder.

“Did you need a ride home?” She offered, thinking about how nice it would be for him to wrap his arms around their body as he sat behind her on Patsy, her motorcycle.

“Yeah, unless you wanted to go to your place and watch another movie? I wouldn’t want to keep you waiting,” he spoke just loud enough to be heard over the music.

“Yeah, I’d love that, it’s been lonely while Penny’s gone,” a smile erupting on her face as she got the reference, “come on then.”

She took his hand in hers, interlocking their fingers and dragging him backstage towards her locker. She had a space to keep her things for practice and other shows she did during the week, keeping an extra helmet and jacket in the locker for nights like this, however, normally it was a cute stranger. Not the man she’s been crushing on since she was a teenager.

“Oh, you brought Patsy,” Spencer��s face went white.

“Did you not want to ride her? Come on, everyone wants to ride her at least once,” Y/N teased him as she put the helmet in his free hand.

Her bandmates staring at her with proud smiles as she took the guy from the rock show home; the one in the sweater vest from the front, the one who was the most into the whole show, they both gave Y/N a wave and a smile as they slipped out the backstage door.

They walked out to the parking lot, still hand in hand with their helmets in the other. Stopping at her dark purple Suzuki GS650 GT, it was her most prized possession because it used to belong to her parents.

She put her hair in the right spot before putting the helmet on, sitting down and starting the engine, revving it for everyone in the lot to see as Spencer put his helmet on and threw a leg over the seat, nervous as ever.

He fit behind her perfectly, just enough room on the seat for his chest to press against her back as he placed his hands gingerly on her hips. It made her laugh.

“You’re going to want to hold on better than that pretty boy,” she teased him before revving the engine once more, kicking the kickstand up and speeding out of the parking lot.

Spencer gripped her tightly as she took off down the street, taking the longest route possible to her home. She didn’t hit a single red light for at least 5 blocks, zooming through traffic as Spencer squeezed the life out of her.

He felt amazing, his hands were so big as he fully wrapped around her, reaching around completely so his right hand was on her left hip and vice versa. He was so close she could feel his heartbeat against her back.

He was nervous, he flinched every time she turned and held on even tighter somehow.

So she did another lap of the block, around the park’s bend so she could lean the bike as far as possible as Spencer’s fingers dug into her hips fiercely. Breathing deep enough that she could hear him over the engine, but he wanted her to keep going. Not ready to let go of her yet, this is the closest they had ever been to each other.

When she finally pulled into the parking lot of their apartment complex, they bumped over the curb and his hand grazed Y/N’s boob, he pulled back so fast it was barely there, she just shook her head and laughed. Parking the bike and putting the kickstand back down.

Spencer let out a sigh, relaxing against her as he rested his chin on her shoulder again.

“Have fun?”

“Surprisingly, yes,” he laughed, his voice deep and dry from breathing with his mouth open, it was cute.

He got off first when his legs were finally able to work again, still vibrating from the rev of the engine he walked like Ariel when she got her legs. It was priceless, no one has reacted like that after getting a ride from them, not even Penelope.

She took her helmet off while still on the bike, shaking her hair out of the ponytail as provocatively as possible before getting off. Spencer’s jaw fell open once more as he watched, breathlessly, just as she expected.

Either he liked them before and never told them, or he was going to start now.

Either way, it excited Y/N to their core, taking his hand once more and leading him inside, this time they could be as close as they wanted to and no one was going to walk in on it. She stopped at her locked apartment door, looking at Spencer as softly as possible so he’d know her feelings were real.

“I know this will cause the teasing we already get to skyrocket, so if you wanted to keep it between us, I fully understand,” she whispered.

“Is that what you want?”

He was so sweet it made her heartache, never before had anyone made her feel like this; like she wasn’t in control of her body or mind, like an override in the system her brain and heart chose Spencer and there was no stopping them.

“I just told a whole bar of people that I’m in love with the guy at the rock show before taking you home in front of everyone,” she laughed, “I don’t care if people know, I just hate when they tease us, they belittle everything we do like we’re 17 forever, it’s not fun for me.”

“I hate it too,” he pressed his lips together awkwardly once more, “I’d like to keep you to myself for a while.”

She cupped his face in her hands and pulled in, pressing her lips against his as they both tried to repress their tightlipped smiles. Finally, finally kissing after all those years staring at each other's lips while they explained something, passionately as ever with the most attentive ears.

“Exactly, me too,” she smiled wider as she pulled back from him, unlocking the front door and pulling him inside for that movie he mentioned.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 (dm me if you want me to remove you)

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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rafescoke · 3 years ago

Text

Crime ; Part 3

masterlist

Part #3

Read the previous parts here:

Part #1, Part #2

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Maybe life just doesn’t go your way sometimes.

Warnings: heavy writings on death! angst, just two people being in love but one of them is scared

A/N: ideas are inspired by @pogueslandia literally the sweetest <3

Maybe Rafe was overthinking it.

He ran his fingers through her hair, his arms all wrapped up around her. The golden sunlight hit them squarely on the face, and the weather never looked so inviting.

“Stop thinking,” he whispered, pulling her close. He placed a soft kiss on the crown of her head.

She hummed, letting him caress her. The guilt was eating her away, and she hasn't felt good for a week now.

5 more days until John B’s death sentence.

And yet, here she was; all wrapped up with the boy she loved in the Bahamas.

Rafe thought it would be ideal to bring her away from the chaos. Her parents thought it was a good thing too, with all of the commotion and rebellion by the pogues. It was her second day in the strange place, but even with all of the soothing sounds coming from the waves, she couldn’t forget about John B.

Rafe sighed, “Is it about John B?”

“No,” she quickly said. She bit her lips, blinking to stop her tears from crashing down.

“I love you,” Rafe breathed. His fingers stayed on her stomach, and it was a pleasing sight to see; two people in love. If only one has never committed a murder.

(Y/N) pursed her lips, because she couldn’t utter the words back. She loved him, of course, but she was scared. It wasn’t like it was Rafe’s fault entirely; he gave her a chance to confess, but she didn’t.

Love is truly a blinding bitch.

. . .

“You guys came back early,” Ward said, helping them out with the bags. He turned to look at (Y/N), and then back to Rafe. He sighed.

“What is it?”

“She’s not feeling well,” Rafe mumbled. His eyes were tired, showing how they have been fighting since god knows when. (Y/N) didn’t look any well either, keeping to herself the whole time from their departure.

Ward made to grab his arms before he could follow (Y/N) into the house. “Control her.”

“She’s not a dog,” he said through gritted teeth. He pulled his arms away, seething.

“She’s going to tell on you.”

“She won’t,” Rafe answered back, but he too, wasn’t sure.

Because all of her actions were showing him otherwise.

She wasn’t like (Y/N) he knew anymore, but he took it as her way to cope with the situation.

“What is wrong with you?” Rafe finally asked. He plopped onto the bed beside her, his lips curling.

“I’m just tired.”

“All we did in the Bahamas was sleep,” he scoffed. “You can’t use that excuse, (Y/N), come on.”

“Maybe if you actually try to understand me you’ll get it.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” she sighed. She laid her back against his bed and closed her eyes, letting the darkness take over.

“So like what? You’re going to tell the cops, huh? Is that what you’re going to do?”

“God, can you let me breathe? We’ve just had a long fucking flight.” Her eyes opened, feeling so exhausted from the overwhelming situation. She didn’t know what to do, but fighting with Rafe was definitely not on the list.

“Whose fucking fault is that?” He mumbled before standing up.

Rafe exited the room, wanting to get away from her as soon as possible. He could feel it. He could see what was going to happen. He thought of this exact moment, but he didn’t really want to act on it out of fear.

He wasn’t sure if he would ever hurt her.

Sometimes he felt like doing it, but he just couldn’t. Everytime her eyes set on him, he felt like seeing her for the first time again.

“Hey, I’m sorry.”

(Y/N) wrapped her arms around Rafe’s waist as he stood near the railing of the porch. The sun was setting in, and it would look so mesmerising; just them two, but the feeling was long gone.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, and breathed into her scent.

His girl. His.

. . .

(Y/N) was sleeping right beside him.

She looked so peaceful, her hair fixed to one side and her chest heaving slowly.

He couldn’t help but place a soft kiss on her temple.

She shifted, groaning slightly.

Rafe panicked, “Shit, I’m so sorry, baby. Go back to sleep.”

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” She grunted, shifting her position to face him. “It’s midnight.”

“Can’t sleep.”

(Y/N) sighed, and pulled him close to her. “Go to sleep.”

He smiled, laying his head against her chest now, and he could feel her heart beating.

A few minutes after, he felt her poking him. “You’re asleep yet?”

“No.”

“Wanna go swimming?”

“Where?”

“The beach.”

Rafe smiled, “You’re not tired?”

“Am tired. But you can’t sleep.”

She guided him to the exit, her hair messy from her slumber before. The moonlight glowed from above, illuminating the pathway to the beach behind her home.

They sat on the beach for a while, just staring into the never ending landscape, until Rafe pulled her close again.

“I love you.”

(Y/N) smiled. “I know.”

She couldn’t. She just couldn’t utter it back.

He removed his shirt, revealing his toned figure, and pulled her up her feet. She giggled, removing her own tank top and shimmying out of her shorts. She was completely naked now, and allowed herself to be pulled into the water.

Strange enough, the water was not too cold or too hot. Just perfect. It was like the night was made for them.

She giggled when Rafe pulled her further into the darkness, and a sudden thought of a strange creature in the water occurred to her.

She reached for Rafe, her eyes trying to see through the water even though it was nearly impossible.

Rafe laughed, holding her tight. Her chest was all pushed up against him, and he had never looked at something more beautiful than her.

“We’re gonna die.”

“Probably,” he rolled his eyes. “Maybe there’s that dinosaur from Jurassic World down here.”

She hit Rafe from the sudden thought of a monster underneath her, and went to swim away. Rafe laughed again, pulling her quickly by her wrist and letting her lay against his chest again.

“I’m kidding. I’ll kill a monster for you.”

They stared at each other again, breathing in each other’s presence, and finally, he closed in the distance.

She melted into the kiss, feeling so good she never wanted to let go of that boy. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close, and it was all so perfect;

Like something out of a book.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, admiring her eyes, and placed another soft kiss. “So, so perfect.”

(Y/N) smiled, always loving this side of Rafe. The side she knew before he. . .

She made to move away, but Rafe grabbed her again. He sighed, “What is it?”

“I have to go,” she mumbled, and swam towards the beach. Rafe pulled her again, still so unsatisfied, because the moment was perfect, right?

They were kissing, he was telling her that he loved her.

What else could he do?

“What did I do?”

“Rafe, just let go,” she said, and pried her hands away.

This time, he let her go.

. . .

Rafe thought it was finally time to make it right again.

His relationship was getting rockier, and he intended for a smooth ride again. He straightened the dark blue suit he got from Chapel Hill, eyeing his watch from time to time.

“Hey,” (Y/N) smiled, brushing her fingertips along his face.

The gazebo was set exactly like the first time they met; all bright with fairy lights and smelled of floral candles. Her breath hitched at the sudden memory of that night.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said.

“I want to,” Rafe shrugged, helping her to her seat. He brushed her hair for good measure before going back to his seat. “You’re okay?”

She shifted uncomfortably, “Yeah.”

They ate in silence. The only sound came from the clanking of the cutleries and the plate, and the constant sipping of the wine.

Okay. Maybe what she did was wrong.

But he’ll get out of it, right?

He got money, the best lawyer in the states, and a high position.

They wouldn’t put him through the death sentence.

Right?

“I think it’s time,” Rafe said suddenly. (Y/N) looked up from her plate, her heart thumping wildly. Her eyes scanned the lake, and back to him.

Rafe walked towards her, his mouth forming a bright smile. He reached for his pocket, pulling out a white box-

No. This couldn’t be.

(Y/N) won’t accept this.

She simply just won’t.

They’re too young.

Too afraid.

“No,” she said, scraping her chair to the back. “No, Rafe.”

Rafe’s smile disappeared, his eyes turning low. “What?”

“No. I, I- I won’t accept it.”

The diamond ring glimmered under the lantern, and (Y/N) noticed something similar from it.

Her breath hitched.

Of course it would be the same promise ring she threw at him last year. Except it was updated.

“It’s my mom’s ring,” he took a step closer. “What’s wrong? Don’t you want this?”

More than anything.

Her chest heaved, and she quickly put her hands up before him, as if protecting herself. “Rafe, I can’t. I’m so sorry.”

He took a step closer, because god, he was so, so confused. He loved her more than anything in the world; more than himself.

He was unsure about a lot of things, but not this.

“Rafe,” she warned, still putting her hands up. “Please? I’m sorry.”

“I don’t understand?” He whispered. His eyes were now filled with tears, and (Y/N) used all of her energy to stay away from him.

For her own good.

“I just can’t.”

She stole a glance at his watch. She glanced at the lake again, her heart beating wildly.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” she said. His forehead creased, and the tears were now completely wetting his suit. The ring was still left untouched in the box, still glimmering in the hope to be wrapped around someone’s finger.

“Is it because-” he whispered. “Is it because of JJ? Did I do something wrong?”

“Rafe, stop,” she shook her head. “It’s not anyone’s fault. Let it go.”

He took a deep breath. The box closed with a snap, and Rafe kept it back securely in his pocket. He held his head, walking away from her, muttering curses incoherently.

“We can still be together.”

“Fuck off,” he laughed. He pressed his back against one of the railings, closing his eyes and admitting to the darkness. His head felt light, and his fingers were trembling.

“Rafe-” she walked towards him, placing a hand against his cheeks. He leaned into her, feeling her warmth, and didn’t try to stop the tears from falling. “I’m sorry, okay?”

It was like falling down from a cliff; too fast, and everything happened in just a blink of an eye.

Lights were coming from all directions, hitting them squarely on the face. Rafe protected his eyes from the red and blue lights, groaning, all the while searching for (Y/N).

But she wasn’t there.

“What the fuck?” He said to no one in particular, looking around wildly. Whatever the reason was, the police were coming to him; straight and fast. He knew he didn’t have time to reach for his car, not without (Y/N).

“We’re not going to hurt you, son,” a voice bellowed from the lake. Rafe tried to see the figure, but the light was too blinding. “We’re going to make it fast and easy.”

“What did I do?” He said, still trying to keep his cool, but it was failing miserably.

Anyone could see that Rafe Cameron was scared.

Maybe it was the rejection from earlier. He didn’t know. What he was sure of was; he wanted to get away.

The gazebo was guarded by the police now, and (Y/N) was nowhere to be seen. He sighed, taking a seat on her chair and grabbing the wine bottle. He downed the content, his heart beating wildly and his forehead clammy.

It’s time.

. . .

He had never felt this painful before.

His head was throbbing, and his chest was soaring with agony in all the right places. He trembled as he sat up straight, trying to clear off his blurriness.

It failed miserably when he reached for the toilet bowl, emptying his already empty stomach for the third time today. Rafe was sure 98% of the vomit was his bile, and he wished for nothing more than death.

Everyone does this to him.

Every. Single. Person.

Ward tried helping him, hiring the best lawyer in the United States of America, but the chances for him to be freed were low. So, so low.

They told him that he did multiple offenses in one go.

He couldn’t name any of it, and he has accepted his fate anyways. He didn’t see the point in living when the girl he loved was no longer there in the light.

His memory was fading really fast, and everything that happened around him seemed like a dream. He wanted to reach reality, but he wouldn’t allow himself.

“Cameron, you got a visitor.”

“Tell Ward that I’m okay with getting killed.”

“It’s not your papa, boy,” the police sighed. “It’s a girl.”

His head perked up at ‘girl’. Maybe it was Wheezie, coming to see how fucked up her brother is. He bit his lips, stopping the incoming tears from the thought of Wheezie alone.

He followed the officer down the jail, his eyes scanning the other cellmates. Some jeered at him, knowing him as the ‘rich boy who never got himself into jail because of money’, and loving the fact that Rafe Cameron was finally getting the treatment he deserved.

Rafe sat in the empty room, his eyes staring at the bent part of the metal table. He remembered this room clearly; the room he was forced into questioning and had seen him cry until there were no tears left to cry.

He waited a few more seconds, only hearing some noisy sounds coming from the old air conditioning.

“Okay, thank you.”

His head turned to behind him, hearing her voice so clearly now that his heart was soaring again. He watched as she entered the small room, not looking at him, and placed herself before him.

“Hi, Rafe.”

Rafe stared at her, not saying anything. His thumbs were fiddling with each other under the handcuffs, and his legs were shaking wildly.

He had missed her more than anything in the world.

She looked so much healthier; her hair was up in a ponytail, and her cheeks were rosy and bright.

She didn’t look miserable like him.

“How are you?”

What a stupid question.

“What do you think?” He asked, tilting his head to one side. “Are you my therapist, or something? Did Ward hire some kind of a prison therapist to help me stay positive until the day I’m hanged?”

She sucked in a breath. “Rafe, I’m trying to help you.”

“Congra-tu-fucking-lations,” he smiled. “I’m getting the death sentence. Would you care to watch me getting hanged tomorrow? It'll be like seeing me play volleyball on the beach like last time.”

Oh god.

She didn’t know.

How could she?

They told her that everything will be alright, that he will be released after paying a large sum of money. It would be unfair to the sheriff, but at least no one is getting killed at the end of the day.

How could she be so fucking naive?

“I didn’t know.”

He laughed, “It’s okay. Would you come and see me though? It’ll be a damn pleasure.”

“Rafe, stop,” she said, clutching onto the table. “You’re not getting hanged, okay? I’m sorry. I’ll get you out of this.”

He softened, finally realizing what he had been saying. He sighed, still fiddling with his thumb, and looked at her again. “There’s nothing else left to do. We did everything.”

“No, no, I can fix this-”

“(Y/N),” he sighed. He placed his cuffed hands on the table, asking for hers, and she gladly accepted them. She bit her lips, failing to stop her tears now that she felt him around her again.

Her sweet, sweet boy.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I accepted it. It’s my fault. There’s nothing you can do.”

There was a knock on the door, and (Y/N) jerked slightly from the sudden commotion.

3 more minutes.

“It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“There’s no other way,” he whispered. “But you will always be my love, okay?”

She held him in her fingers now, caressing his face. She ran his fingers over the new scratches on his face a few times, soothing the pain down, and placed a soft, longing kiss on his lips.

He kissed her back, feeling better slightly, and only pulled away when the second knock rang throughout the room.

“Yes, by the way.”

“What?” He asked, confused. His eyes were teary because god, he wished he could do better for her.

For them.

“Yes to marrying you.”

He laughed. What a stupid thing to say a day before his death sentence. But he loved it. More than anything else in the world. He softened, “I don’t have the ring.”

She guided his hands, sliding an imaginary ring over her ring finger, and she examined it admiringly under the white light.

“Thank you,” he said.

It was brief; their moment of happiness, but it was enough for Rafe. He couldn’t think of anything better than this, knowing that the love of his life had accepted to be with him.

(Y/N) pulled him in for another kiss as the last knock blared, and they stayed in that position after the door was opened, revealing the same officer who had brought her in. She gave (Y/N) a warm pat on the back, allowing her to give Rafe another long, last kiss.

He could still taste her when she walked out, her eyes all wet now, her mouth whimpering.

He put a hand up, waved it slightly to the right, his own eyes glassy.

“I love you,” he mouthed.

. . .

Rafe didn’t know what to expect the next morning.

He watched many crime documentaries and movies involving a death penalty before, but he never truly put his mind on what he would be feeling on the walk to the inviting creature called death.

After (Y/N), Ward came to see him. They didn’t say much, only exchanging a few words of “how are you?” And “I’m okay”. But it was clear Ward Cameron was broken at the sight of his son.

He failed as a father.

He wished he could’ve been a better father to Rafe, because god, he loved him too much. He even thought of admitting to the crime, but the crime was too strong on Rafe’s side.

He gave his one and only son a last, longing hug. They held each other in complete silence, just feeling the moment until an officer came, pulling Rafe away.

He didn’t even get to say I love you.

“You’re okay?”

Rafe looked at whoever was responsible to kill him beside him, and nodded. “Yep.”

He looked down at his white suit and sighed. “Can I wear something proper?”

The man pushed him into the room, annoyed at his impulsive words.

This boy just killed a goddamn sheriff, and he was still joking?

“Rot in hell,” he told Rafe, to which he accepted the remark willingly.

The executioner motioned for him to step on the tool, and Rafe thought about the simpler times in his childhood where he was told to stand on a stool in middle school by a teacher for kicking on a boy who touched Sarah on her newly washed hair.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he saw her.

The executioner, blinded by the black cloth around his head, looped the rope around his neck, and Rafe involuntarily swallowed his saliva.

He looked down at his fingers, imagining his wedding ring. He smiled, looking up to the ceiling, watching as the white light blinded his eyes.

Maybe in another life.

@okayshoto @joselyn001 @onceuponateenagetrash @dyingsleeping @iwannabeapogue @meaganjm @rafesobxs @flossy2929 @unfortunatekiwitrash @scottybitch @asimpwriter @amaya124 @tommy-tommo @thatshithurted8 @fallincindy @marvelwhor3 @rafeswh0ree @kookap @supernaturallydc-blog @blank-velvet @alaniskauany @kiiim8 @witchywrter @kaitlyn2907 @heyimflo @overcookedpastasause @tsukkiswifeey @spidey-d00d @anonymousobxfan @gotmeinloveagain @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @lexi-writes @classydragonthingknight @belongtoyou-u @badbussylol @savannah-elliott @angelreyesgirl100 @haterpenny @beehappyyy @alwaysclassyeagle @maybankslut @kayleea122 @clearbolts @lovelyxtom @christianaevans @jemimah-b99 @opierdalacz @dangerdolns @wildflowerliv @classygirlything21 @pogueslandia

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smuts #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron one shot #outerbanks #outerbanks imagines #outerbanks x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagines

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originaldanganronpascenarios · 3 years ago

Note

Drv3 boys request. Best friend-crush reader constantly gets confessed to and hit on bcuz of their beaty and very admirable personality, but alway declines(cuz they like the boys). The boys want to ask out reader but is scared they’ll reject them like the others and it would ruin their friendship. How would they react when reader suddenly makes a big romantic gesture and ask them out instead?

I didn't expect the last part of this ask Aaaa that's amazing.

V3 boys with a crush that constantly gets confessed to... That confesses to them!

Ryoma Hoshi

Do you really think that he even thought of confessing to you? All those people he witnessed confessing to you made you extremely uncomfortable.

So there's no way that he's going to say it and be another person on this list. He's perfectly fine being your close friend. Actually it's more than enough.

It's a bit funny really. He doubts any possible feelings you may or may not have for him while you reject everyone just to be with him.

But it's not like he thought it'd be good for you to like him. Heck he thought that you being friends was a bit dangerous for you.

So even if you shared mutual feelings it doesn't really mean that he would accept it. There was a slight possibility that he'd reject you.

You were aware of this possibility, but you still wanted to try. You had to!

You had the flowers, the time and the place. Ryoma was a little early but it's not like you were possibly bothered by it.

He was a bit surprised to see you holding flowers but there was no way it could-

You turn towards him and give him the flowers. But the most shocking part was you asking him to date you.

He wanted to think that you're joking but he knew you weren't. His silence made you anxious.

"So... You rejected everyone because you liked me? Geez you have an odd taste kiddo" he joked still not believing it was happening "I might not deserve it but- I feel the same about you"

Gonta Gokuhara

It was a bit weird when people had the guts to confess to you while you were hanging out with him.

The fact that someone wanted to tell you something while you spend time with him didn't bother him... But the fact that it made you uncomfortable did.

So he wanted to help you. Picking less crowded places, trying to make you appear busy. He asked if you agreed for him doing so. The second you change your mind he'll stop.

But you had just the thing that would stop at least the ones that are decent and know when to back off.

And it's of course confessing to Gonta and if he likes you back your relationship will be official right away.

You didn't do it to use him obviously- you liked him for a long time and what I just said was a joke.

You wanted this to be special since he was special. You thought about your favorite places and found a perfect option.

There was a lake where you often could see lots of dragonflies. And although it's not his favorite kind of a bug this lake is one of the first special places he took you to. So it had that sentimental points.

When he showed up you decided to first have a warm conversation before you told him how you feel.

The grass was soft but not as soft as he felt when you told him this. He was overjoyed and did speak ever so slightly louder.

"Gonta would love to be with Y/N! Gonta swears to make Y/N happy everyday!"

K1B0

It took him a while to figure out his feelings... When he did things got a bit awkward for him.

He was scared to change things between you two... But he wanted things to change. He wanted to be with you, to be able to hold your hand, be the reason why you're smiling and to make you feel how he feels around you.

He didn't wanted to be like all those people saying sweet nothings out of nowhere, disturbing you and even being rude to you when you reject them.

But of course those things are something he wouldn't dare to do... He just didn't wanted you to think that he's like those people.

There was no other choice, he had to grin and bear it. With time you had realized and connected the dots that he liked you too and you couldn't be more happy.

Even though it was just a silly assumption the very thought of being with Kiibo just made your day.

Now it was time to make that thought into reality! And you had a silly plan that probably would work.

You were listening to music together- but between the songs there was one audio file of your confession.

While you cringed at the sound of your recorded voice he was shocked.

He didn't really believe what was happening so he asked if you recorded it. When you admitted to it he didn't really know how to react.

"I- uhm- I like you to. Sorry I just don't know what to say, I'm so happy!"

Kaito Momota

He was over the moon about his feelings for you actually, but he had no problem keeping it to himself.

Knowing how many people made you uncomfortable with their confessions he thought it'd be best if he waited it out and most importantly respect and ask what your feelings are in the first place.

He didn't really think when he asked if you liked anyone. But as he found out that yes, there was someone he was ready to support you.

Although he'd be lying if he said he wasn't jealous... Or angry about the fact that you won't tell him who you like.

He'd try to guess but he couldn't. At that point he thought that he did guess at one point and you just said no anyways.

You knew that with him you had to be straightforward. Of course he probably would be able to tell your intentions but it'd be ideal to let him know without having to worry if he thinks it's platonic.

So you were ready for anything even to bluntly correct him.

When you were hanging out he noticed that you were acting a bit differently and he thought it was becouse he was forcing you to tell him who do you like so you're trying to be cautious around him.

So he apologized for that and ended up giving a few hints that he might like you back.

It gave you some confidence boost so you had a perfect opportunity to strike, and that's exactly what you did.

"What!? It was me all that time!?... You could've just said so. I was worried that I'll never get to tell you how I feel"

Shuichi Saihara

He tried to pay no attention to all those people who declare their love to you. Some were flashy with their confession while some just told you about their feelings.

He was a bit jealous over all those admirers... Not because you had so many. It was because he wished to be as brave as them and tell you how he feels.

But it's not like he could easily admit to it himself. He just didn't know what to say and with each admirer he became more and more scared.

One day he just asked- okay more just blurted out the question if you liked someone.

You weren't lying when you said yes, but you needed some time before you tell him you-know-what.

So his any interest to confess to you was out of the window. But he prepared himself to support you and your future partner.

His question prompted you to step up and finally confess. Since he's definitely going to start guessing.

That was what you assumed, Shuichi didn't actually want to know who you fell for. He only "knew" that it wasn't him.

You decided to confess in a bit risky way. What I mean is: you left a confession letter inside a novel you let him borrow. It could fall out at any time!

You were worried this might happen but soon enough you got a message from him.

He would call you and thought a lot about doing so but he knew he'd be at loss of words so he just decided to text you instead.

"Do you really like me?" this was a sign that he did in fact get your letter.

After that you texted for a while but as to his feelings for you, he decided that he'll try to tell you in person.

Rantaro Amami

He never paid much attention to his feelings. So even when he realized that he's in love he knew he shouldn't say anything.

Looking how many people you rejected he thought you weren't interested in anyone at all.

Of course there were some people you considered strangers. But there were few that were close to you too.

And hey being friends with you was super fun. So why should he make things awkward by letting know how he feels?

You can't have everything in the world and for Rantaro just your smile was enough.

While he set his feelings aside you were preparing yourself to confess.

You decided to strike at a perfect time. The beautiful sight before you (other than Rantaro obviously) the warm atmosphere...

You said it. Without regrets, you couldn't stop yourself. He was a bit surprised but he didn't let you wait long for his answer.

"Hah... I don't really know what to say at a time like this... Can I kiss you instead and let it be my answer?"

Kokichi Ouma

He saw you reject people so often he swears he knows the outcome just by the look on your face. Even when you politely decline and show no signs that you'll say no he still can tell.

If someone really messes it up he's gonna joke about this later with you. He just wanted to make you laugh so you won't have to worry about it much.

You might not like the idea so much but it happened when someone crossed the line and made you feel uncomfortable so you didn't feel that bad...

And it DEFINITELY doesn't make him anxious about confessing... Impossible- he would never.

Of course he's not like those idiots who don't even know you. And in the end he can turn it into a joke if he messes it up.

But the memory would probably haunt him and not let him sleep at night, so he rathers not risking it.

So you had to make the move. It was a bit hard but you knew how to get to him. You had to wait for your "making fun of people who confessed to you" session to do that.

That's when you mentioned that you were interested in someone and now it was the best time to make things obvious.

He was ready to tease the living shit out of you and hoped you'd share the news. But you made him guess.

It was interesting to hear the names he'd assume before himself. So you spoiled the fun.

"Aww Y/N I almost got it! That's not fair" he crossed his arms "But since you're really dying to be with me I suppose I can entertain you from now on in a bit different way"

Korekiyo Shinguji

He's observant and he's pretty sure somehow he saw all of the confessions so far. Some were creative while some incredibly creepy.

He did make a joke once about you being so popular just to see your reaction. It was interesting that you rejected everyone even those he assumed you were close with.

A little tease like this can show him how you view those interactions. He wanted to know if you find it amusing or heartbreaking.

Whatever your answer was he acknowledged it and knew that from now on it'd be better to keep his feelings to himself.

He was entertained enough just being with you as you were so he didn't really care that he has to ignore his heart's call.

You were beautiful, the special kind of beauty within you was something he could witness every day. What more he could ask for?

Only if he knew what you were up to... It'd ruin the surprise!

You studied the language of flowers just so when you give him the special bouquet you'd tell him meaning of each flower.

He was of course already aware of those but since you were telling them about it he knew that it was supposed to mirror your feelings.

"To believe that I was blind to your feelings all this time... Let me make this up to you"

~Mod Angie

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