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wileys-russo · 7 months ago

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forget me not II l.williamson x reader

forget me not II l.williamson x reader

"only me lee!" you called out, slipping out of your coat and hanging it by the door, tugging your beanie off and running a hand through your hair. you sighed happily at the much warmer temperature in the house compared to the brutal winter wind bellowing outside.

but there was nothing that could wipe the grin off of your face, having just wrapped up your final day of your degree and handing in your final thesis, you were on top of the world.

and at that moment, leah had been determined to keep you there.

"leah?" you called out for your girlfriend, eyebrows furrowing in concern when there was nothing in return, though you could smell the orange blossom throughout the house where she'd had the diffuser on, and her car had been parked right next to yours when you pulled in.

"babe?" you yelled a little louder, unwinding your scarf and slipping off your sneakers leaving them by the door, frown deepening as you wandered further and further into your home with still no sign of the blonde to be seen.

but you melted as you rounded the corner and laid eyes upon a perfectly set dining room table, takeaway from your most treasured italian restaurant plated up beautifully with a glass of champagne poured to accompany it, an expensive looking bottle sat in a bucket of ice in the middle of the table.

you could see the food was still steaming which must have meant that-

"congratulations!" you jumped almost a foot in the air at the booming voice behind you, jolting around for a split second before leah engulfed you in a bear hug, lifting you off your feet and cheering.

"leah!" you laughed, clutching onto her shoulders as the defender spun you around and carefully placed you back down on the ground. "i am so so unbelievably proud of you." her hands fell either side of your face, palms rough and callous but her touch warm and comforting as you melted into it.

"hold that thought." leahs finger smooshed against your lips for a second as she let go and stepped away, disappearing for a moment but returning with a huge bouquet of flowers in her arms.

"oh leah, you didn't need to do all this! i'd have been happy with a takeaway and a cheap bottle of wine." you exhaled with a soft smile, leah rolling her eyes affectionately and placing your flowers down on the table.

"only the best for the best. we can get wine drunk and have a greasy chinese any day of the week my girl, but its not every day that you graduate university with top marks, honors and three job offers!" your girlfriend reminded, shaking you proudly as you threw your head back with another laugh.

"i love you." you sighed, shaking your head and wrapping your arms around her neck, her own hands settling on your hips and drawing your body closer into hers, the scent of her perfume intoxicating as you drowned in it.

"i love you, i love our life, i love our home. and i love that i don't need to fight a big dusty stack of text books for your attention anymore!" the blonde teased as you grinned, leaning in to press a few short but sweet kisses against her lips.

"i knew that was coming." you sighed with a shake of your head, leah pulling a face and nodding, stealing another kiss and moving to pull your chair out for you, gesturing for you to sit down.

"i hate when you pull my chair out for me." you reminded as leah shrugged, pushing it in and stealing another kiss. "at restaurants, you didn't say anything about at home." leah winked taking her own seat as you rolled your eyes fondly.

"to you my love!" leah raised her glass with a beaming smile across the table, a fond grin on your own as a gentle clink sounded around the kitchen.

in that moment you felt loved and supported, as leah showered you with praise and hung off your every word as she asked you question after question about your finally completed thesis and how you were feeling.

if only you'd known it wouldn't last.

leah and you met through your cousin alessia.

the pair of you both the only girls in your immediate family and only a few months apart in age you'd grown up thick as thieves, adopting one another as the sisters you weren't given, both instead having older brothers.

you only grew closer as the years flew by, you making your way across the world to visit her when she was in college in america and the two of you vacationing together time and time again in italy with your families.

when alessia moved to manchester for football and you stayed in central london you saw less of one another, but still you did your best to make it to as many of her matches as you could, never gifted with much of a sporting ability which all three of your cousins had teased you for growing up.

you'd seen leah around in passing at the international games but never really had much to do with many of your cousins teammates bar the ones you saw more often that she played with at united or on the youth teams.

you had first been properly introduced to leah on a night out, arsenal playing united meant several of the england girls were going for dinner and given you'd gone to the game and hadn't seen alessia in well over a month she'd invited you to join them.

you hadn't interacted with leah all that much that night, spending most of your time glued to your cousins side making the most of your time with her, your exams now done for the semester you were making plans with her to go to ibiza after the season wrapped up.

but unknown to you, you'd stuck with leah a little more than she had with you.

you hadn't had anything else to do with her until a couple of weeks later, you were in between lectures and desperate for a coffee which actually tasted like coffee and not something from a gas station pod machine.

so you'd ducked out to a little cafe just down the road from the university, it was a fan favourite amongst studnets and often quite busy so you weren't surprised to see all the tables occupied and people stood shoulder to shoulder awaiting their takeaways.

you'd ordered your usual and a ham and cheese croissant to snack on along the way back, moving away from the counter to wait for your order, smiling apologetically at a blonde you'd accidentally backed up into.

you assumed that would be it, off in your own world as you started to daydream, which is why you missed the girl speak to you, only zoning in once she tapped you on the shoulder and you turned toward her with a curious frown.

"sorry, what?" you blinked realizing she'd said something and you'd missed it. "i said you look really familiar, have we met before?" the stranger asked and you let out a small puff of air in amusement. "is that supposed to be a pick up line?" you questioned with a raised eyebrow as the blondes eyes widened.

"no! honestly. i would never try to pick you up-" she started but with a small scoff of offence from you her eyes widened further. "no! not that i wouldn't try to pick you up at all you're not ugly, but i wouldn't do it like that?" she cringed at herself as you hummed, turning back toward the counter and crossing your arms over your chest.

"hey no please, i'm so sorry this is all coming out wrong." the girl huffed with a shake of her head as again you only hummed and she seemed to give it up as there was a few beats of silence.

"oh! i know. you're...someones cousin." the girl seemed to light up, seemingly quite happy with herself as you threw her a side eye. "aren't we all technically someones cousin?" you questioned still facing the counter as the girl rolled her eyes.

"well yes but i swear i've seen you somewhere before." the blonde huffed in frustration and you sagged a little in relief as your name was called.

"let me guess. in your dreams?" you chuckled, stepping forward to grab your coffee and the small paper bag, good mood returning at the overwhelming scent of the croissant which was toasted, warm and calling your name.

"look. you're not unattractive but the whole 'oh i know you!' thing? it doesn't work. really, do yourself a favor and get a new tactic!" you shook your head with a slight smile, leaving the blonde gobsmacked as you moved past her and shuffled your way out of the cafe.

only if you'd just waited another thirty seconds, you'd have heard her own coffee's called out, all under the name leah.

again a couple of months passed and the coffee shop interaction disappeared from your mind, alessia laughing about it with you a week later teasing that even if you didn't date boys you couldn't avoid shitty pick up lines.

you didn't run into leah again until the very first friendly leading up to englands home euros run where they beat belgium 3-0. you'd been sat with everyone in the family and friends section, wedged between gio and your own older brother leo. the rhyming names in which you and alessia had teased them for for years.

naturally after the game and the crowd had cleared everyone was mingling with their families, and you'd been so busy laughing at alessia's brothers taking the piss out of her for having kept count of how many times she tripped over in the game you missed a familiar blonde spot you across the room.

however you were made aware of her presence around a half an hour later as your family had started to break off into groups, all headed to a local restaurant for a nice meal to celebrate alessia and everyone being together again.

"want a lift?" alessia offered twirling her keys around on her finger as she finished saying goodbye to a few of the girls. "yes but i'd also like to arrive to dinner alive." you sighed as the girl scoffed and hit you on the shoulder.

"well i'm your last option so you can walk if you'd prefer piccoli ravioli!" your cousin cooed teasingly, pinching your cheek as your eyes narrowed and you shoved her taller form away.

"alessia. you promised you'd stop calling me that." "i did, but i've changed my mind now. it brings nonna so much joy...i'd like to also feel that joy." "would you also like to feel my fist against your cheek?" "aw you're so cute, piccoli ravioli!"

"i hate you." you sighed in defeat unable to muster the energy for a proper comeback as your cousin only grinned and waved goodbye to mary over your shoulder.

exchanging goodbyes with ella and promising you'd come visit manchester soon you turned to follow after your cousin and her long legs which were already halfway across the room when there was a tap on your shoulder.

"you look really familiar. have we met before?"

"you." you realized quickly, eyes widening at the smug grin on the familiar blondes face who stood before you, clad in the same england tracksuit your cousin was wearing which could only mean one thing.

"you mean you're-" "yes i am, and you are someones cousin. alessia's!" the girl grinned victoriously as you winced a little at your previous interaction.

"told you it wasn't a pick up strategy." the blonde beamed even brighter, rocking back and forth on her heels and shoving her hands into her pockets.

"well you could have just asked!" you rolled your eyes at her smugness. "i did and you bit my head off!" the blonde huffed in defense. "i mean directly. like 'oh i think you might be related to someone i play football with'." you mocked in an attempt at her accent.

"i don't talk like that!" "thats what you took away from that?"

"well i didn't want to freak you out." the girl rolled her eyes as you snickered. "and how well did that go? i've been calling you coffee shop creeper when i tell that story, and let me tell you it gets some laughs!" your voice dripped with sarcasm but that just seemed to cause her lips to curl up into a more prominent smile.

"well then you're welcome for the ice breaker, maybe now you'll have some more success reading cues of when someone is trying to chat you up or just asking a curious question. not everyone wants to date you right off the bat, sorry for the let down." the blonde pouted though the sarcasm was obvious in her own tone.

"leah." your own response was cut short as the girl held out her hand, grin still plastered on her face and damp hair pushed to one side of your head as you sized her up for a second before sighing and exchanging your own name.

the interaction was paused as alessia yelled out for you, gesturing from the door and tapping her wrist making you scoff given she was one to talk forever the last to show up at any family event and notoriously known her lateness.

"well leah, i'm glad we cleared this up. good game!" you smiled sincerely for the first time and leah felt her stomach flip as you turned to head over to your cousin.

"wait! can i get your number?" you glanced back in surprise to the blonde who shrugged at your raised eyebrow. "only following your advice and asking directly!" leah teased with a smirk that you couldn't lie and say wasn't a little endearing.

"fine, but just so you know i will be saving your contact as coffee shop creeper."

years down the track and the coffee shop creeper charm had won you over, you were very happily in a long term relationship and a few months ago had taken the next step of moving in together.

with alessia now living in london too it meant the pair of you were near inseparable much to both leahs delight and frustration that your cousin loved to invite herself over, often interrupting date night.

you'd been by leahs side throughout her injury, sticking by her through the highs and lows, the lashing out, the icing out, the apologies and the crying and eventually, the peace and the healing.

you'd be lying if you said that despite how clearly proud of her you were, you missed having leah around as much now she was medically cleared and back fit and fighting for her beloved arsenal.

date nights were often forgotten, leah hanging back in the gym to do some extra work or to meet one on one with the physios ensuring her recovery was still right on track.

despite your own studies you made sure to be at every single game each weekend if leah was playing or not. but when she used to greet you afterwards with a bear hug and a sneaky kiss, whisking the pair of you away back home for a night of takeaway and horrendously cheesy rom coms, had disappeared as she instead spent time looking back on game footage with the head defensive coach or watching at home on her own ipad, normally requesting some space to do so.

but as always, you knew what this meant to her. football wasn't just leah's passion it was her life, and you wouldn't be the person to stand in the way of her achieving everything she wanted to and more, you were always her biggest cheerleader.

there was an international camp coming up and you knew that was her next goal, her focus narrowed down to have her name on that squad list her sole vision for the next few weeks, and of course as usual you'd been nothing but supportive of her.

but you had your own milestones incoming, your own goals to lock in on and finalizing your thesis was one of the last. leah had of course showered you with praise and attention and affection that night and you felt like things had started to slip back where they left off.

but then a few days later and again you were left sat at the dining room table alone on date night, reading a book and looking longingly over to the door awaiting the jingle of your lovers keys in its lock, but by the time it came you were long asleep in bed, leahs dinner left wrapped in cling film in the fridge, untouched and discarded by you that next morning.

as much as you put on a brave face, there was always someone who saw through any attempt at a wall you threw up for your own defense, and that was your cousin.

it had taken a little bit of clever reverse psychology and a mountain of carbs in the form of your favorite pasta dish but eventually alessia had you opening up about feelings you'd pushed down and down and down.

having known you longer and family meaning everything to alessia you knew the blonde would take your side, not that there was even an argument or 'sides' to be taken at all. but also always level headed and your go to for advice your entire life you took on board what she had to say.

she encouraged you to open up to leah and talk everything out, urging that the older girl was clearly head over heels for you and likely didn't even realise her actions were making you feel like this.

alessia cautioned that the longer you let these feelings sit the bigger chance they could begin to turn into resentment, to fester away and become much more negative, eating away at you piece by piece, the more likely that leah would continue on forward blindly, unaware of your feelings of neglect and you could both wind up hurt.

you wished you'd listened to her.

finally a week later your final hurdle arrived, your graduation.

given it was quite the extensive class you'd been apart of you only had a small handful of tickets to extend, but of course your cousin and your girlfriend had received their invitations weeks ago.

alessia had taken you out shopping a few days ago to find a dress, leah very kindly offering to come but you could see the slight grimace on her face at the thought and dismissed it with a smile, thanking her with a soft kiss for offering.

you needed to arrive earlier than your family, so alessia had texted leah the night before offering to pick her up and carpool. your girlfriend however assumed the blonde had meant a lift to training that next morning and declined, advising she would make her own way.

you'd also of course spoken about your nerves for tomorrow, leah only half listening as she studied the training footage she'd requested on her ipad, assuring everything would be fine and kissing your forehead as you hummed and settled down in bed beside her.

you were used to falling asleep first, back turned to your girlfriend as her fingers drummed away against her screen, wishing for nothing more than the nights where leah would be pressed up against you.

where she was present, involved, attentive. but again you chose not to mention it, afraid she'd take your feelings of neglect for neediness and the voices in your head warned it would mean your blonde lover would pull away even further out of reach.

it wasn't unusual for you to be up and gone when leah woke for trainings some mornings, the early bird out of the pair of you you often loved a morning run to clear your head, having long given up trying to convince your sleep loving bed hogging girlfriend to join you.

so she thought nothing of it when the time ticked by and still you hadn't returned, chalking it up to you maybe going for breakfast afterwards with a friend.

if she'd been paying attention when she raced out to her car, piece of toast hanging out of her mouth and her shoes in hand she might have noted your car was gone too.

leah was so wrapped up in training preparing for this weeks game, knowing sarina would be there to watch, she hadn't even tweaked your cousins absence, missing the flittering conversations that alessia had a family commitment.

never having her phone on her during training, leah was surprised to check it after showering to see an abundance of missed calls, messages and facetime attempts from a handful of different people.

"what the fuck?" the blonde mumbled, muttering her goodbyes to her teammates as she made her way quickly out of colney and sat down in her car, deciding to just start from the last missed call she had which was from her mum.

the girl couldn't even get a word in to ask what had happened before amanda was speaking, exhaling in relief at her daughters contact popping up on her phone.

“finally! I understand you might not have been allowed your phone for a face time during the ceremony but you better have some photos and videos to send me." amanda laughed, leahs frown only deepening but again she couldn't get a word in.

"god i bet she looked beautiful, she's such a gorgeous girl i've always said that! but now with a doctorate. oh leah did you cry? i bet your brother you'd cry!" amanda laughed as leah opened and closed her mouth in confusion.

"sorry, mum what are you on about?" leah finally managed to speak, a brief pause of silence on the other end. "fine so you didn't cry! you are a softie though bubba you can't deny me that. but i'm with your grandma so send me some photos at least to show her!" amanda encouraged as leahs eyebrows furrowed.

“sorry i'm a bit lost here. photos of what mum?” "the graduation of course, what else?" "whose graduation? you're not making any sense."

there was a few beats of silence, amanda having moved away for a moment to somewhere a bit more private.

"leah if this is a joke, it isn’t funny.” her mum warned seriously, tone shifting as leah scoffed. "of course its not a joke! i don't know what you're on about with this gradua-" but the words died in her mouth as finally things seemed to click.

"oh no no no fucking hell please no!” leah panicked, putting the phone down on her centre console as her chest tightened and her heart began to race.

"leah catherine williamson. please tell me you didn't forget your own girlfriends graduation ceremony." amanda spoke much more quietly, disbelief evident in her voice as leah fumbled around, knowing it was in here somewhere.

then she found it, the invitation.

you'd both been in the car when you'd shown it to her, leah having picked you up from a friends house where you'd had a few too many drinks for her to want you in an uber, smiling in amusement as you toddled your way down the driveway to her.

she hadn't seen you all day but the moment she'd gotten you safely in the car you'd presented her with the small slip of paper, leah's eyes widening in pride for a moment before her lips were showering every inch of your face in kisses as you'd laughed and shoved her off.

but the melodic sound of your laughter was a stark comparison to the stuffy horrendous silence which filled her car now as leah stared in both horror and disgust at the date on the paper clenched tightly in her fist.

"mum i need to go."

#woso community #woso #woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #leah williamson imagine

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reidmarieprentiss · 5 months ago

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Whispers in the Dark

Summary: Derek Morgan's best friend from back home moves to Virginia, Spencer takes a liking to her.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, smut (18+), angst

Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, JJ is not a good person in this story, a little Hotchniss, reader wears a dress, alcohol consumption

Word count: 14.7k

a/n: i think this is absolutely adorable! i'm so sorry jj is bad in this, having a few plot points felt more fun :/

main masterlist

Additional warnings: fingering, oral (fem receiving), handjob, penetrative sex, no condom (wrap it before you tap it), nipple play

The break room was buzzing with the familiar hum of the coffee maker as Derek filled three mugs with steaming hot coffee. Emily and Penelope stood nearby, eagerly awaiting their morning caffeine fix. Emily leaned against the counter, her eyes twinkling with curiosity, while Penelope practically bounced on her toes in excitement.

"So, who exactly is this friend of yours?" Emily asked, tilting her head slightly.

Derek chuckled, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Y/N? I guess she just landed early this morning."

Penelope's eyes widened with delight. "Oh, Derek, that is so exciting! I cannot wait to meet her. I just know we are going to be the best of friends already!"

Derek held up a hand, his expression playful yet protective. "Whoa, whoa, whoa now! No one is stealing my best friend, and no one is stealing my baby girl."

Penelope grinned mischievously. "Oh, come on, Derek. You know she's going to love me. I have that effect on people."

Emily sipped her coffee, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "From what I've seen, Y/N is quite the catch. She's gorgeous."

Derek's protective instincts flared up instantly. "Hey, hey! She's like a sister to me, and that's all there is to it."

“Bold of you to assume I was suggesting you might like her,” Emily wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Penelope giggled, poking Derek playfully in the ribs. "Relax, big brother. We're just teasing you. Though, I wouldn't blame any of the people around here for trying to get her attention."

Derek rolled his eyes, but the smile never left his face. "Y/N is amazing, no doubt about it. But she is a little shy sometimes. Just don't scare her off with all your excitement, okay?"

Penelope placed a hand over her heart, feigning innocence. "Who, me? Scare someone off? Never!"

Emily took another sip of her coffee, her expression turning thoughtful. "So, what's the plan? Are you bringing her by the office?"

Derek nodded. "Yeah, I thought I'd show her around, introduce her to everyone. She's moving pretty close to me, so you'll be seeing a lot of her."

Penelope clapped her hands together. "This is going to be so much fun! I'm already planning a welcome party in my head."

Derek shook his head, chuckling. "Just remember, she's shy. Take it easy on her, okay?"

Emily smiled, placing a reassuring hand on Derek's shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll make her feel right at home."

Penelope leaned in closer to Derek, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "So, are you going to help her unpack tonight?"

Derek shook his head. "She actually made a trip earlier to move her stuff into her new townhouse. She's already unpacked and settled. She was just using up the last of her vacation hours from her previous job before moving in today."

Emily's eyes lit up with interest. "She sounds like she's got everything under control."

Derek nodded proudly. "She always does. She's incredibly organized and independent."

Penelope's eyes gleamed with an idea. "Why don't we take her out to the club to celebrate her arrival? It could be a great way for the team to meet her."

Derek hesitated, thinking about Y/N's shy nature. "I don't know, Pen. She's not really the clubbing type."

Penelope waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, come on, Derek. She'll have a blast. It's the perfect way to meet everyone in a low-stakes environment."

Emily nodded in agreement. "Yeah! It could be fun, Derek. And it would give us all a chance to get to know her better. Or we could bring her in for interrogation if you prefer."

Derek sighed, knowing they had a point. "Alright, alright. We'll take her out to the club. But if she starts feeling uncomfortable, we're out of there. Got it?"

Penelope and Emily nodded enthusiastically. "Got it!"

“Got what?” Rossi entered the break room, curiosity piqued by the lively conversation.

"Oh, nothing!" Penelope exclaimed with a mischievous grin. "Just that we convinced Derek to bring his new lady friend to the club tonight!"

Derek huffed, rolling his eyes and glaring at Garcia. "Would you not put it like that? She's my best friend from back home. She just moved here."

"Sounds fun. I'll go," Rossi said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Well, yeah, someone has to pay," Emily snickered, giving Rossi a playful nudge.

Rossi chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "Alright, I'm in. It'll be good to meet the woman who managed to keep Morgan in line all these years."

Derek shook his head, a fond smile tugging at his lips. "Y/N is amazing, but she's not some wild party girl. Just promise me you'll all be on your best behavior."

Emily placed a hand on her heart. "Derek, I solemnly swear that we will make her feel right at home. Right, guys?"

Penelope and Rossi nodded in agreement, their faces equally sincere.

"Okay, okay, nerd," Derek teased and relented. "I'll let her know the plan."

Penelope clapped her hands together, her excitement bubbling over. "This is going to be so much fun! I can't wait!"

Derek chuckled, shaking his head. "You guys better not scare her off. Let's make sure her first night out is a good one. No green fairies, I’m looking at you, baby girl."

Penelope pouted dramatically. "Spoilsport! I was just going to introduce her to the joys of absinthe."

Emily laughed, patting Penelope's shoulder. "Maybe we should stick to something a bit more tame for her first night, Garcia."

—

Emily made it her personal mission to get Hotch on board with the club—sue her if she wanted to see him let loose a little.

She found him in his office, buried under a stack of case files. Knocking lightly on the doorframe, she stepped inside. "Hey, Aaron. Got a minute?"

Hotch looked up, his expression serious as always but softened slightly when he saw her. "Sure, Emily. What's up?"

She closed the door behind her and took a seat across from him, leaning in slightly. "So, you know Derek’s friend Y/N is moving to town, right?"

Hotch nodded, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. "Yes, Derek mentioned it."

"Well, we're all planning to go out to the club tonight to welcome her. I think it would be great if you joined us," Emily said, her tone persuasive and her gaze steady.

Hotch raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "A club? Emily, you know that's not really my scene."

Emily leaned forward slightly more, her eyes locked on his. "Come on, Hotch. It's not about the club. It's about making Y/N feel welcome. Plus, it’s been ages since you let loose and had some fun."

He sighed, considering her words, his gaze drifting momentarily to her lips before he caught himself. "I appreciate the sentiment, Emily, but I've got a lot of work to catch up on."

She gave him a knowing look, her voice dropping to a softer tone. "You always have a lot of work, Aaron. But sometimes you need to take a break and spend time with the team outside of work. Besides, we might need someone responsible to keep an eye on Derek and Penelope."

Hotch chuckled softly, shaking his head, but his eyes never left hers. "Alright, you’ve got a point. But if I go, I'm not staying out all night."

Emily beamed, feeling the electricity in the air between them. "Deal. I'll make sure you have a good time. Just think of it as a team-building exercise."

Hotch leaned back in his chair, a small, genuine smile playing on his lips. "Fine. I'll go. But you owe me one, Prentiss."

"Absolutely," she replied, her voice almost a whisper. "Thanks, Hotch. Y/N’s going to appreciate it."

As she stood to leave, their eyes locked once more, and the room seemed to shrink around them. "And who knows," Emily added, her voice low and teasing, "you might even enjoy yourself."

Hotch's smile widened ever so slightly, a rare sight. "We'll see about that."

As she left his office, Emily felt a rush of adrenaline. The tension between them was palpable, and she knew that tonight, with the boundaries of the office left behind, anything could happen. The night was shaping up to be more than just a welcome for Y/N; it was an opportunity for something else entirely.

—

Penelope found JJ at Spencer's desk, talking to him while he looked through a stack of files. Spencer was engrossed in his work, his fingers skimming over the pages with practiced ease, but he glanced up occasionally, clearly engaged in their conversation.

"Hey, you two!" Penelope called out, her usual bubbly energy on full display as she approached them. "Got a minute?"

JJ turned to face Penelope, her expression curious. "What's up, Garcia?"

Penelope beamed, her excitement practically radiating off her. "So, Derek’s friend just moved to town, and we’re all planning to go out to the club tonight to welcome them. I think it would be great if you both joined us."

Spencer looked up from his files, adjusting in his seat slightly. "A club? That's... not really my thing, Penelope."

JJ nudged him playfully. "Come on, Spence. It could be fun. Besides, it's not about the club; it's about making Derek’s friend feel welcome."

Spencer hesitated, glancing between the two women. "I suppose it would be nice to meet a friend of Derek’s."

Penelope clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling. "Exactly! Plus, it'll be good to see everyone outside of work for a change. We've all been so busy lately."

JJ smiled, a hint of something more lingering in her gaze as she looked at Spencer. "Yeah, it'll be nice to have a night out. We can all use a break."

Spencer nodded slowly. "Alright, I'll go. But don't expect me to dance."

Penelope laughed, patting his shoulder. "No worries, Boy Wonder. Just having you there will be enough."

As Penelope walked away, Spencer turned back to his files, but JJ's eyes lingered on him a moment longer, a small, almost wistful smile on her lips. The prospect of the night out was exciting for more reasons than one, and she found herself looking forward to it more than she should.

—

Y/N stood in front of her closet, the door wide open, revealing a spectrum of clothes ranging from modest to daring. She bit her lip, fingers trailing over the hangers as she contemplated her options. Deep down, she knew she hadn’t gotten rid of her party clothes because she felt good in them, even if she hadn't put them on in half a decade. But Derek lounged on her bed, watching her with a supportive smile, and she strayed to that daring side of her closet.

"I don't even know where to start," Y/N admitted, a touch of frustration in her voice. "I used to love wearing anything skin-tight, sheer, and low-cut, but... Andrew didn't like it when I was on display for other men."

Derek frowned at the mention of Andrew, her recent ex, but quickly masked it with a gentle smile. "Y/N, you're not with Andrew anymore. This is about you. Wear what makes you feel good, not what you think anyone else wants you to wear." He didn’t exactly want to see her pop a tit on the dance floor, but if she found an outfit that she felt good in, he would never tell her otherwise.

She pulled out a sleek, black dress that clung to her curves but had a modest neckline. She held it up, examining it critically. "I don't want to show too much, but I also don't want to feel... boring."

Derek chuckled. "You could never be boring, Y/N. And besides, you should wear something that makes you feel confident and happy. Remember how you used to rock those outfits in your early 20s? That confidence is still in there."

Y/N smiled wistfully, thinking back to her younger self who loved the thrill of dressing up and going out. She pulled out another dress, this one with a sheer overlay and a plunging neckline. "What about this one? Is it too much?"

Derek's eyes widened slightly, but he quickly recovered. "Honestly? It's a little... revealing. But if you feel amazing in it, go for it. Just make sure you're comfortable. That's all that matters to me."

She hesitated, looking between the two dresses. "I want to feel like myself again, Derek. Not the version of me that Andrew wanted."

Derek stood up and walked over to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Then wear what makes you feel like Y/N. Forget about Andrew. This is your night. Be that confident, fun-loving woman you are."

Y/N took a deep breath and nodded, feeling a sense of determination. "You're right. I should wear something for myself." She put back both dresses.

Y/N went digging in her closet until she found what she was looking for: a dress low enough to show what she wanted without fear of exposing herself. It hugged her body the way she liked without highlighting anything she didn’t, and so what if it was a little on the shorter side? She went to the bathroom to change, coming out and doing a spin for Derek.

Derek wolf-whistled and clapped his hands together once. "There you go. That's the Y/N I know. You're going to look amazing, and you'll feel amazing too."

Y/N grinned, feeling a surge of confidence. "Thanks, Derek. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He pulled her into a quick hug. "That's what best friends are for. Now, let's get some accessories on. You can’t leave the house this bare."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "Alright, let's see what I've got." She returned to her closet, pulling out a few pieces of jewelry. "What do you think?"

Derek nodded approvingly. "Perfect."

“Okay, now your turn.”

“What do you mean? I’ve been ready, sweetheart.”

“Derek, I love you, but you look like an idiot.”

Derek was wearing a forward-facing snapback hat, not sitting all the way down on his head, with a too-tight gold chain around his neck and a black button-up.

“Wow, don’t spare my feelings,” he said with a mock-hurt expression.

“Just put this on. I’ve been thinking about your outfit this whole time too,” Y/N said, handing him a longer chain and a deep maroon V-neck shirt.

Derek raised an eyebrow but took the items from her. He whipped his hat and shirt off, and once the new one was on, Y/N could see the outfit did its intended purpose, showing off every ridge of his chest and abdominal muscles.

“And now you look hot and slutty! Derek, don’t you dare put that hat back on,” Y/N said with a laugh.

—

As the evening approached, JJ took on the role of designated driver, knowing she needed to get back to Henry and Will at a decent time. She picked up Spencer, Penelope, and Rossi, her car filled with excited chatter about the night ahead.

Penelope was the most animated, talking nonstop about the club and how much fun they were going to have. Spencer listened quietly, a small smile playing on his lips, while Rossi chimed in with the occasional witty remark.

They were the first to arrive at the club, the neon lights casting a vibrant glow over the entrance. The music was already thumping inside, creating a palpable energy in the air.

JJ parked the car and they all headed inside. As they found a spot to settle, JJ turned to Spencer. "Hey, I'm not drinking tonight, but could you get me a soda when you go up to get yourself something?"

Spencer nodded. "Sure, JJ. What kind of soda do you want?"

"Just a cola, thanks," she replied with a smile.

Penelope looped her arm through Spencer's. "Alright, Boy Wonder, let's go get those drinks. I need something fruity and fun!"

Rossi chuckled, watching them head towards the bar. "Just make sure you come back, Spencer. Don't let Garcia drag you into any trouble."

Spencer gave a mock salute. "Yes, sir."

At the bar, Spencer ordered JJ's cola, a fruity cocktail for Penelope, and a simple soda for himself. As they waited for their drinks, Penelope nudged him playfully. "So, Spencer, you ready for a night of fun?"

Spencer smiled, though a bit apprehensively. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Penelope grinned, handing him the drinks. "Good. Because tonight is all about making Y/N feel welcome and showing her a good time."

“Wait, her? I thought you said it was a friend of Derek’s,” Spencer said, looking slightly confused.

“It is, Reid. Boys and girls can be friends, hun,” Penelope replied with a playful smile.

“I know that, Garcia. But it’s Morgan,” Spencer insisted, his eyebrows knitting together.

Penelope shrugged, her smile turning a bit more thoughtful. “I guess we’ll see what their dynamic is. He seems pretty dead set on seeing her like a sister.”

Spencer nodded slowly, still processing the information. “Yeah, I suppose.”

His mind flashed back to past interactions where his awkwardness had gotten the best of him. The fear of saying something wrong or not knowing how to respond often made him retreat into his shell. Even though he had grown more confident over the years, the nervousness never entirely went away.

Penelope nudged him gently. “Don’t overthink it, Spencer. Just be yourself and have a good time. You’re so loveable and your cheeks are so squeezable, you’ll do great!” She pinched his cheek playfully.

Despite Penelope's playful encouragement, Spencer couldn't shake the nervous flutter in his stomach. He'd always found it challenging to navigate social situations, especially those involving women. His intellect and eidetic memory often set him apart, making him feel awkward and out of place.

“Hey, ow, rude,” Spencer protested, rubbing his cheek with a mock glare.

Penelope laughed, her eyes twinkling. “Just a little encouragement, Pretty Boy. You’ll be fine. Besides, I think Y/N will find you just as charming as the rest of us do.”

Spencer smiled, feeling a bit more reassured. “Thanks, Garcia. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime, Spence. Now, let’s get back to the table,” Penelope said, giving him a supportive pat on the back as they rejoined the others.

They made their way back to the table, where JJ and Rossi were engaged in a light-hearted conversation. Spencer handed JJ her soda, and she thanked him with a warm smile.

"Thanks, Spence," she said, taking a sip. "This is going to be fun. I'm glad you decided to come."

Spencer nodded, settling into his seat. "Me too. It'll be nice to see everyone outside of work."

Just then, Aaron and Emily walked in together, their presence immediately causing a ripple of silent curiosity. They had grabbed a cab together, which wouldn't have raised eyebrows except for the fact that they didn’t live anywhere near each other.

No one said anything about it, but the thought was clearly on everyone's mind. Penelope's eyes widened slightly, and she exchanged a quick glance with Spencer, who raised an eyebrow. JJ's lips curled into a knowing smile, and Rossi simply shook his head with a bemused expression.

Emily, seemingly unfazed, waved at the group as she and Aaron approached the table. "Hey, guys! Sorry we're late. Traffic was a nightmare."

Aaron nodded in agreement, his usual composed demeanor in place.

Penelope, ever the enthusiastic one, quickly jumped in to keep the mood light. "No worries! We're just glad you could make it. We’re still waiting on Derek and Y/N."

Emily took a seat next to JJ, while Aaron settled in beside Rossi. The unspoken questions hung in the air, but the team was seasoned in reading between the lines. There was a palpable sense of something more between Hotch and Emily, though no one dared to bring it up.

The atmosphere around the table became more relaxed as they chatted and laughed, each member of the team silently noting the unspoken connection between their two colleagues.

“Alright, I need a drink. Emily, do you want anything?” Hotch asked, standing up and glancing around the table.

JJ looked up, a bit surprised. “Hotch, you’re drinking?”

“Yeah, you never drink,” Spencer chimed in, his eyebrows raised.

“Would you guys leave the man alone?” Rossi interjected, shaking his head with a small smile.

Emily chuckled slightly uncomfortably, nodding at Hotch. “Uh, yeah, thanks. I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”

Hotch gave her a small smile and headed towards the bar, leaving the rest of the team exchanging curious glances.

Spencer leaned over to JJ. “Do you think something’s going on?”

JJ shrugged, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. “Who knows? But whatever it is, I’m glad to see him relaxing a bit.”

Hotch returned to the table with drinks in hand, distributing them to Emily and the others. The group settled into a comfortable rhythm, enjoying each other’s company, their laughter and chatter blending with the club’s energetic ambiance.

After a while, Spencer excused himself to go to the bathroom. He navigated through the crowd and found a line, which took longer than expected. By the time he made it back to the table, he noticed Penelope, Emily, and Rossi animatedly gabbing and pointing at something, their expressions reminiscent of gossiping schoolgirls.

Curiosity piqued, Spencer took his seat and leaned in. “What are you all looking at?”

Penelope, barely containing her excitement, gestured towards the dance floor. “Just look!”

Spencer turned to see Derek on a small stage, completely in his element, dancing with a beautiful woman. Derek's moves were smooth and confident, his body swaying in perfect rhythm with the music. The woman with him was equally captivating, moving with a fluid grace that matched Derek's intensity. The two of them were completely in sync, the chemistry between them palpable.

Spencer’s eyes widened as he watched his usually composed friend get down and dirty on the dance floor. “Wow,” he muttered, unable to hide his surprise.

Emily chuckled, leaning closer to Spencer. “Looks like Derek’s having a good time.”

Rossi nodded, a knowing smile on his face. “That’s an understatement. He’s really letting loose tonight.”

Penelope sighed dramatically. “Isn’t it romantic? Derek and his beautiful dance partner, lost in the moment.”

Emily lightly swatted her arm. “Oh, shush. He told us not to make those jokes. They’re basically family.”

“Wait, that’s Y/N?” Spencer was baffled, his eyes widening in surprise.

Penelope nodded, her grin widening. “Yep, that’s her. The infamous Y/N we’ve heard so much about.”

Spencer shook his head, still processing the scene before him. He couldn’t help but feel slightly uncomfortable. Y/N was so captivating and beautiful, but seeing her and Derek on the dance floor, she didn’t look like just a friend. A pang of something unpleasant twisted in his chest, and he felt upset but also silly for feeling that way.

Everyone around the table seemed to be speculating about the nature of Derek and Y/N's relationship. Spencer cleared his throat, trying to push past his discomfort. “Did you all get to meet her before they went on the floor?”

Emily nodded. “Yeah, we did. Y/N’s great. We took shots with her and Derek before a song she clearly loved started playing, and she said she just needed to dance.”

Penelope’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “She’s got such a good, vibrant energy. You’ll love her, Spencer.”

Rossi chuckled. “She’s definitely something. It’ll be hard not to like her.”

JJ, however, stayed quiet, her expression thoughtful. After a moment, she commented, “Their relationship is... interesting.”

Spencer’s eyes darted back to the dance floor where Derek and Y/N were still enjoying themselves. He couldn’t shake the feeling of confusion mixed with intrigue. Y/N was unlike anything he’d ever seen, and seeing her with Derek stirred emotions he wasn’t quite ready to confront.

As Derek and Y/N finally made their way back to the table, laughing and slightly breathless, the group fell silent for a moment, taking in the sight of the duo.

“Hey, guys! Did you see us up there?” Derek asked, his arm draped casually around Y/N’s shoulders.

Penelope was the first to speak, her voice filled with warmth. “Derek, you were amazing up there! And Y/N, girl, that was so sexy! Who knew you could move like that!”

Derek grinned. “Hey, what about me, mama?”

Penelope laughed. “Oh, my chocolate thunder, we all knew you could move like that. But, Y/N! You told us she’d be shy!”

Y/N hid her blush in Derek’s shoulder, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks.

“She is, Garcia. She’s just got some liquor in her, don’t you, sweetheart?” Derek said, giving Y/N a gentle squeeze.

Y/N nodded before looking back to the group. Her eyes landed on a new face, and she nudged Derek lightly.

“Ah, pretty boy, this is Y/N, my oldest, longest, best friend.” Derek stated proudly.

Spencer, feeling a mix of nerves and fascination, blinked up at the flushed, slightly sweaty beauty in front of him. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you too, pretty boy,” Y/N giggled, and Spencer blushed like a tomato.

JJ cut in, her tone slightly more serious. “His name is Spencer.”

Y/N smiled warmly at Spencer, not noticing JJ’s tone. “Nice to meet you, Spencer. Derek’s told me a lot about you.”

Spencer managed a shy smile, still feeling the heat in his cheeks. “I hope it��s been good.”

“Well, I told her about your kiss with Lila Archer, the shot to the knee, and that one time your biggest fan was a serial killer…” Derek teased.

Spencer’s mouth gaped like a fish, mortified. “Derek!”

Y/N laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You didn’t tell me any of that!” She turned to Spencer with a warm smile. “Spencer, he told me you’re smart and pretty, and one of his best friends. I was jealous that I had competition, but I think I’m okay with sharing now.”

Spencer’s blush deepened, but he managed to laugh along with her. “Thanks, Y/N.”

Derek chuckled, patting Spencer on the back. “See, Pretty Boy? You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Penelope chimed in, her eyes twinkling. “Absolutely! Now who wants a green fairy?”

It couldn't be known who shouted "no" first, but everyone did at least once. The chorus of protests rang out, blending into a collective and resounding rejection.

Penelope pouted dramatically. “You guys are no fun!”

Rossi raised his glass in a mock toast. “Here’s to keeping the green fairy far, far away.”

The group laughed at Rossi’s comment, but it made Y/N realize she didn’t have a drink, having only taken shots. Spencer, noticing the same dilemma unfold on her face, offered to get her something.

Y/N looked at him gratefully but unsure. “I’m not sure what I want yet. I’ll have whatever you’re drinking.”

JJ cut in again, her voice playful. “Spencer doesn’t drink, but—”

Before she could finish, Spencer smiled and said, “Why don’t you come up with me? We can pick something out together.”

Y/N’s face lit up with a smile. “I’d like that.”

Derek gave her a gentle nudge. “Go ahead, Y/N. You’re in good hands with Spencer.”

As Spencer and Y/N made their way to the bar, the rest of the team watched with amused curiosity. Emily leaned over to Penelope, whispering, “This should be interesting.”

At the bar, Spencer turned to Y/N, feeling more at ease now that they were away from the table. “So, do you have any preferences? Something fruity? Strong?”

Y/N thought for a moment, then smiled. “How about something fruity and fun? Surprise me.”

Spencer nodded, signaling the bartender. “Two fruity cocktails, please.”

As they waited for their drinks, Y/N looked at Spencer, her eyes warm. “Thanks for this, Spencer. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this welcomed.”

Spencer smiled, feeling a connection forming. “You’re welcome, Y/N. I’m glad you’re here. Derek’s talked about you a lot, and it’s great to finally meet you.”

Their drinks arrived, vibrant and colorful. Spencer handed one to Y/N, raising his own glass. “To new friends and new beginnings.”

Y/N clinked her glass against his, her smile genuine. “To new friends and new beginnings.”

As they returned to the table, the group welcomed them back with cheers, and the night continued with even more laughter and bonding. For Spencer, the initial nerves had given way to a sense of excitement and possibility, thanks to Y/N and the help from some liquid courage.

—

The night wore on, and the group became well-lubricated with alcohol. JJ reluctantly decided to head home after confirming that Spencer, Rossi, and Penelope would be able to find their own ways home. They all agreed, not wanting the night to end just yet.

The group moved to a more subdued bar where they could engage in conversation without yelling over the music. The new bar was cozy and intimate, with warm lighting and a quieter ambiance. They settled into a long double-sided booth, perfect for their relaxed conversations.

Aaron and Emily sat against the wall, casually pressed together, their shoulders touching. Penelope was on Emily’s other side, drunk and blissfully unaware of the tension and subtle touches between Aaron and Emily. Across the table, Derek sat against the wall with Y/N in the middle and Spencer next to her.

The cozy setting allowed for a more intimate atmosphere. Derek and Y/N were laughing and chatting about old memories, their camaraderie evident. Spencer, still a bit nervous but more comfortable now, found himself drawn into the conversation.

“So, Y/N,” Spencer began, his curiosity piqued. “What made you decide to move here?”

Y/N smiled warmly, glancing between Spencer and Derek. “Well, aside from Derek being here, I got a great job offer. It was the perfect opportunity for a fresh start.”

Derek grinned, nudging her playfully. “And I promised her we’d make sure she never regretted the move.”

Spencer nodded, feeling more at ease. “It’s good to have you here. Derek’s always talked about you, and it’s clear you two have a special bond.”

Y/N’s eyes softened as she looked at Derek. “We’ve been through a lot together. He’s like the brother I never had.”

Across the table, Aaron and Emily were engaged in their own quiet conversation, their heads close together. Penelope, despite her drunken state, was happily chatting with Rossi about their latest case, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

The intimate setting of the bar allowed the group to relax and enjoy each other’s company without the noise and chaos of the club. Until, of course, ever the trouble starter, Penelope suggested they play a game.

"Alright, everyone!" Penelope announced, her voice carrying a mischievous edge. "How about we play a game? Truth or drink!"

The group exchanged reluctant and curious glances. Derek raised an eyebrow. "Truth or drink? How old are we?"

Y/N nudged Derek and with a friendly smile asked, “What are the rules?”

Penelope grinned, leaning forward. "Simple! You either answer the question truthfully, or you take a drink. No lying, no skipping, and no half-truths."

Emily chuckled, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "Alright, Penelope. Who goes first?"

Penelope pointed a wobbly finger at Spencer. "Pretty Boy, you start. Truth or drink?"

Spencer, slightly apprehensive and very nervous because of his awkwardness in social situations and the fear of exposing something embarrassing to Y/N, nodded. "Alright, truth."

Luckily, Spencer and Y/N had switched to water for this drink, so at least he wasn’t drinking alcohol. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever Penelope might ask.

Penelope's grin widened. "What's the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to you in front of a girl?"

Spencer blushed, glancing around the table. "Well, there was this one time in high school when I accidentally spilled my entire lunch tray on a girl I had a crush on. She was not amused."

Everyone laughed, the tension easing with Spencer's confession. He glanced at Derek, then grinned. "Alright, Derek, truth or drink?"

Derek smirked. "Truth."

Spencer leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "What's the most ridiculous thing you've done to impress someone?"

Derek chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, I once pretended to be an expert salsa dancer to impress a girl at a party. I had no idea what I was doing and ended up stepping on her feet multiple times. She never talked to me again."

The group erupted in laughter, with Penelope practically in tears. Derek pointed at Emily next. "Your turn, Em. Truth or drink?"

Emily raised an eyebrow, considering. "Truth."

Derek grinned. "What's the most scandalous secret you're willing to share with us?"

Emily thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Alright, here it goes. I once crashed a high-profile wedding just for the free champagne and food. I even gave a toast, and no one knew I wasn’t invited."

Everyone laughed and looked at Emily with newfound respect. She turned to Rossi. "Alright, Rossi, truth or drink?"

Rossi smirked, taking a sip of his drink before answering. "Truth."

Emily leaned in, curiosity piqued. "What’s the craziest thing you've done on a case that no one else knows about?"

Rossi chuckled. "There was this one time in Vegas. I ended up in an Elvis impersonator contest. I didn’t win, but I got second place and a pretty good story out of it."

The group laughed heartily, imagining Rossi as Elvis. He then turned his attention to Penelope. "Garcia, truth or drink?"

Penelope grinned, eyes twinkling. "Truth."

Rossi smiled. "What’s the most outrageous thing you’ve hacked into, and why?"

Penelope leaned back, thinking. "Okay, this one’s a bit crazy. I once hacked into the Pentagon’s system just to see if I could. Don’t worry, I didn’t do anything. It was purely for the challenge."

The group exchanged wide-eyed glances, impressed and amused. Penelope turned to Y/N, her smile playful. "Alright, Y/N, truth or drink?"

Y/N considered for a moment. "Truth."

Penelope’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done in front of a crush?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "During a test in high school, my teacher thought I was trying to look at my crush's test to cheat, but really I was just trying to smell his cologne..."

The group erupted in laughter, the mental image of a young Y/N being caught in such a situation too funny to resist.

“Oh, that’s priceless!” Penelope giggled, wiping a tear from her eye. “Did you get in trouble?”

Y/N nodded, still laughing. “Yeah, I got detention. And my crush thought I was a weirdo for the rest of the year.”

Derek wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulders, grinning. “Well, I’m sure he missed out on getting to know an amazing person.”

The group laughed, and Y/N turned to Aaron. "Alright, Hotch, truth or drink?"

Aaron, with a rare relaxed smile, chose truth. "Hmm, truth."

Y/N grinned. "What’s the most spontaneous thing you've ever done?"

Aaron paused, his gaze drifting to Emily briefly before he answered. "I once decided on a whim to take a weekend trip to Paris. Bought the ticket the night before and just went."

The group exchanged impressed looks, and Emily nudged him playfully. "Paris, huh? I didn't know you had it in you, Hotch."

He smiled, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "It was a long time ago."

Aaron looked around the table and then settled on Penelope. “Alright, Garcia, truth or drink?”

Penelope, still bubbling with excitement, chose truth. “Truth.”

Aaron’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “What’s the biggest secret you’re keeping from us right now?”

Penelope's eyes widened, but she quickly recovered, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Well, I’m actually planning a surprise party for Reid’s upcoming birthday.”

Spencer looked surprised and touched. “Really?”

Penelope nodded. “Really. And now you all know, so keep it a secret!”

Everyone chuckled, the playful atmosphere growing even more relaxed. Derek leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he looked at Emily. “Alright, Em, truth or drink?”

Emily smirked, sensing the challenge in Derek’s eyes. “Truth.”

Derek’s grin widened. “What’s the most scandalous thing you’ve ever done that you haven’t told anyone here?”

Emily’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she thought for a moment. “Alright, once during an undercover operation, I had to seduce a suspect to get information. It got a little... heated.”

The group’s reactions ranged from raised eyebrows to playful whistles. Penelope fanned herself dramatically. “Emily, you vixen!”

Emily laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Your turn, Penelope. Truth or drink?”

Penelope tilted her head, considering. “Truth.”

Emily’s smile turned sly. “What’s the wildest place you’ve ever had a romantic encounter?”

Penelope’s eyes widened, but she quickly recovered, grinning. “Okay, it was in the server room at Quantico. During a late night shift. I was young and in love.”

Laughter erupted again, and Rossi shook his head in amusement. “Garcia, you never cease to surprise.”

“I’m going to pretend like I didn’t hear that,” Aaron teased and lectured.

Penelope turned her attention to Spencer, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Alright, Reid. Truth or drink?”

Spencer, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves, nodded. “Truth.”

Penelope’s grin widened. “What’s the most surprising thing about you that most people don’t know?”

Spencer thought for a moment, then smiled. “I actually love cooking. It’s a great way to relax and get creative.”

Y/N’s eyes widened with interest. “Really? I’d love to try something you’ve cooked sometime.”

Spencer’s smile widened, feeling a surge of confidence. “I’d love that. Maybe we can have a cooking night.”

Emily, sensing that the was game shifting, turned to Aaron, her smile teasing. “Alright, Hotch. Truth or drink?”

Aaron met her gaze, his expression intrigued. “Truth.”

Emily leaned in, her voice low and challenging. “What’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for someone?”

Aaron’s smile softened, his eyes holding Emily’s. “I once arranged a candlelit dinner on the rooftop of a building overlooking the city. Just the two of us, under the stars.”

Emily’s cheeks flushed, and she found herself drawn into his gaze. “That sounds amazing, Aaron.”

Aaron smiled back, the tension between them palpable. “It was.”

Emily turned to Derek, her voice still carrying that playful edge. “Alright, Derek. Truth or drink?”

Derek smirked. “Truth.”

Emily leaned in, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. “What’s your biggest fantasy?”

Derek chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “A romantic getaway on a secluded beach, just me and... someone special.”

The group continued to laugh and tease each other, the game drawing them closer. Spencer took the opportunity to ask Y/N another question, feeling more confident with each passing moment.

“Y/N, truth or drink?” Spencer asked, his eyes locking onto hers.

Y/N smiled, feeling the intensity of his gaze. “Truth.”

Spencer’s voice was soft but filled with curiosity. “Are you seeing anyone?”

The team whooped, and they were all very impressed with Spencer's forwardness. Who knew alcohol gave the boy wonder so much confidence?

Y/N's cheeks flushed slightly, but she kept her gaze on Spencer. “No, I’m not seeing anyone right now.”

The whooping and teasing continued, with Penelope playfully fanning herself. “Look at you, Spencer! Bold and direct!”

Derek chuckled, raising his glass. “I’m impressed, Pretty Boy. You’ve got guts.”

Spencer smiled, feeling a mixture of pride and relief. “Thanks, guys.”

Y/N leaned closer to Spencer, her eyes twinkling. “Your turn, Spencer. Truth or drink?”

Spencer, feeling emboldened by the supportive atmosphere, chose truth. “Truth.”

With the eyes and ears of everyone still on them, Y/N asked, “Do you want to share a cab home?”

The team collectively held their breath, waiting for Spencer’s response. His cheeks flushed, but he maintained eye contact with Y/N, his heart racing. “I’d like that.”

The group erupted in cheers and teasing, clearly impressed with the turn of events. Penelope clapped her hands together. “Look at our boy, all grown up and making moves!”

Emily leaned into Aaron, whispering, “I didn’t expect that, but I’m loving it.”

Aaron nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “It’s good to see Spencer coming out of his shell.”

Y/N’s smile widened, and she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Great. It’s a date, then.”

Spencer’s smile mirrored hers, feeling nervous but excited. He then glanced at Derek, feeling the man’s gaze on him.

“Reid, I think you know better than to need for me to give you the shovel talk. But so help me God,” Derek said, his tone half-serious, half-teasing.

“Yup. No worries. Ha. Got it,” Spencer replied, a nervous laugh escaping him.

Derek nodded, his expression softening. “Good. Just get her home safe.”

Spencer nodded, feeling the weight of Derek's words. “I will.”

Y/N smiled reassuringly at Derek. “It’s okay, Derek. Better an FBI agent than anyone else, right?”

“You’re right,” Derek resigned with a small smile.

Soon after, everyone was losing their steam, piling into cabs together, leaving Spencer waiting outside for Y/N, who needed to use the bathroom. When she came out, they stood together waiting to hail a cab for themselves. Spencer noticed Y/N shiver and, ever the gentleman, he offered her his suit jacket. As he draped it over her shoulders, he also ran his hands up and down her upper arms to generate warmth.

“I think you’re the sweetest man ever, Spencer,” Y/N said, looking up at him.

“And I think you’re intoxicated, Y/N,” Spencer replied with a gentle smile.

“So are you,” she challenged playfully.

“I am,” he admitted.

“But you’re still sweet.”

“I’m not that sweet,” Spencer said with some self-doubt creeping in.

“Let me taste you then.”

“What?” Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise.

Y/N leaned up and kissed Spencer, one hand tangling in the hair at the back of his neck and the other sliding under his shirt to caress his tummy. Spencer’s initial shock melted away as he responded to the kiss, his hands gently holding her close.

The kiss was warm and tender, filled with the promise of something new. When they finally pulled apart, they were both breathless, their faces flushed.

Spencer looked into Y/N’s eyes, a mixture of amazement and happiness in his gaze. “Wow.”

Y/N smiled, licking her lips, her fingers still resting against his skin. “See? Sweet.”

Spencer chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Jesus Christ, you’re going to be dangerous, aren’t you?”

“Not if you give me everything I want.”

“I’m a little scared to ask what that is.”

Saved by the bell, a cab pulled up next to them. Y/N grabbed Spencer's hand and pulled him into the backseat. The cab driver asked, “One stop or two?” and before Spencer could speak, she gave the cab driver her address and said, “One stop.”

Spencer was so nervous, thinking about how wrong this was—they were both intoxicated—but Y/N just rested his hand on her thigh and her head on his shoulder. Feeling her warmth and the gentle pressure of her hand, he decided to go with the flow, his worries easing as the cab drove through the city streets.

As they sat in the backseat, Spencer found himself relaxing into the moment. The quiet hum of the cab and the city lights flashing by created an almost surreal atmosphere. He glanced down at Y/N, who looked up at him with a soft, content smile. Her presence was intoxicating in its own right, and he felt a sense of calm and excitement mingling together.

When they arrived at Y/N's place, she led Spencer up to her townhouse. Inside, the atmosphere was warm and inviting. She turned to him, her eyes filled with a mixture of playfulness and sincerity.

“Do you want to come in for a bit?” Y/N asked softly, her hand still holding his.

Spencer nodded, his heart racing but his mind surprisingly clear. “Yes, I’d like that.”

They entered her townhouse, and she closed the door behind them. The night was quiet and still, the tension between them palpable. Y/N took his hand and led him to the living room, where they sat on the couch, facing each other.

“Thank you for helping me home, Spencer,” Y/N said, her voice tender.

Spencer smiled, his nerves settling as he looked into her eyes. “I don’t think you needed any help, but I’m glad I got to spend more time with you.”

She leaned in, her lips meeting his in a gentle, lingering kiss. It was a kiss filled with promise, hinting at something deeper, something more.

When they pulled back, Y/N rested her forehead against his. “Stay with me tonight?”

Spencer nodded, his voice barely a whisper. “I’d love to.”

Y/N led Spencer to her bedroom. In her still-intoxicated state, although she had sobered up some, the comfortability with Spencer was palpable. She stripped down to her underwear and threw on a t-shirt, Spencer very quickly averting his eyes.

She giggled, handing him some sweatpants and a t-shirt as well. “Here, you can wear these.”

Seeing Y/N so comfortable, Spencer also shucked his clothes off down to his briefs, all the while Y/N quietly cheering teasingly from the bed. Spencer felt a mix of giddiness and nervous excitement. He went to the bathroom to splash some water on his face, trying to clear his head and calm his racing heart.

By the time he made it back to the bedroom, Y/N was heavily passed out, her breathing deep and steady. Spencer smiled, feeling a rush of affection for her. He carefully climbed into the bed, pulling the covers over both of them. He lay there for a moment, watching her sleep, feeling the warmth of her presence beside him.

With a contented sigh, Spencer turned off the bedside lamp and settled into the pillow. The events of the night played through his mind, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of wonder at how things had unfolded. As sleep began to take over, he felt Y/N shift slightly, her hand unconsciously finding his and holding on.

Spencer smiled in the darkness, feeling a deep sense of contentment and peace.

—

The first thing Y/N noticed when she woke up was how warm she was—too warm. She went to throw off the covers before realizing that there was an entire other human beneath her head. Spencer. At some point in the night, her hand had found its way under his shirt to rest on his tummy. She was too afraid to move, not wanting to wake him and face reality.

Y/N didn't black out; she knew they just went to sleep. But she also remembered asking him to take her home in front of everyone, kissing him, inviting him in, and asking him to spend the night—things Y/N typically did not do.

As she lay there, her mind raced. She hadn't felt this comfortable or confident in a long time, not since before Andrew. Last night had been a glimpse into who she used to be and who she could be.

Spencer stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering open. He looked down at her, a sleepy smile forming on his lips. "Good morning."

Y/N blushed, feeling the warmth of his gaze. "Morning." She mumbled.

Spencer gently moved his hand to cover hers on his stomach, his touch comforting. "Are you okay?"

Y/N nodded, her voice soft. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just... processing."

Spencer's smile remained gentle and understanding. "Last night was... unexpected, but nice."

She smiled back, feeling a surge of affection for him. "It was. I don't usually... I mean, I'm not usually that bold."

“Do… do you regret it?” Spencer asked, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

“No, no I don’t. Do you?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” they both said, wearing dopey smiles.

“Can I kiss you?” Spencer asked.

“No.”

“Oh.” Spencer felt a pang of rejection.

“No, sorry, I just, we haven’t brushed our teeth.”

Spencer laughed, relief flooding his features. “Correct you are. Is that something we can fix?”

Y/N shyly led Spencer to her bathroom, grateful everything was so clean due to her just moving in, and handed him a spare toothbrush. They stood side by side at the sink, making cute faces in the mirror, shyly blushing and enjoying each other's company.

As they brushed their teeth, they exchanged playful glances and giggles. The simplicity of the moment made it all the more special. When they finished, Y/N turned to Spencer, her cheeks still pink from their shared embarrassment.

“Better?” he asked, his smile bright.

“Much better,” Y/N replied, her eyes warm.

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. “Okay, now you can kiss me.”

Spencer leaned in slowly, their faces inches apart. He hesitated for just a moment, taking in the way her eyes sparkled in the morning light. Then, gently, he pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss was soft and sweet, filled with the promise of something new. As they pulled away, both of them were smiling, the connection between them growing stronger.

Y/N rested her forehead against Spencer's, her heart racing. “I’m really glad you stayed.”

“Me too,” Spencer whispered, his hand gently caressing her cheek.

Y/N and Spencer walked to the kitchen to put on the coffee and find something for breakfast. Y/N was deep in her cupboards, searching for where she had put her spatulas for the eggs.

“Can you get that, Spencer?” she asked when someone knocked on the door. “I don’t want to forget where I already looked.”

“Sure,” Spencer replied, heading to the door.

Spencer felt his face heat up. “Uh, morning, Derek. I... um...”

“Reid, I told you to get her home. I didn’t say you needed to stay.”

“I—I know, she, um, she asked, and I—”

“You what?”

Y/N, sensing the silence, called from the kitchen. “Who is it, Spencer?”

“It’s Derek,” Spencer called back, his voice slightly strained.

Derek stepped inside, raising an eyebrow. “Y/N, you decent?”

Y/N popped her head out of the kitchen, her expression surprised. “Derek! Oh my god, shut up,” she mumbled, realizing what he said. “What are you doing here so early?”

“Just checking in on you,” Derek said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Wanted to make sure you were feeling okay after last night. Looks like you had company.”

Y/N blushed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, Spencer stayed over. We, um, I was just about to make breakfast. Want to join?”

Derek chuckled, his gaze flicking between Y/N and a visibly uncomfortable Spencer. “Sure, why not. I’d love to.”

As Derek made his way to the kitchen, Spencer closed the door, taking a deep breath to steady himself. This was not how he had expected the morning to go.

In the kitchen, Y/N found the spatulas and set them on the counter. “Coffee’s almost ready. Spencer, can you get some more mugs?”

“Yeah, of course,” Spencer said, moving to the cupboard.

Derek leaned against the counter, watching them with a knowing smile. “So, Pretty Boy, how was your night?”

Spencer fumbled with the mugs, his cheeks burning. “It was... nice. We just... talked and then slept.”

“Is that so?” Derek said, clearly enjoying Spencer’s discomfort.

Y/N shot Derek a look, a mix of annoyance and amusement. “Derek, don’t tease him.”

Derek held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’m just glad you’re both okay.”

“So, Reid… how comfy is her bed?”

“Oh, it’s actually really nice,” Spencer replied honestly.

“I knew it!” Derek laughed, and Y/N hid her face in her hands.

Y/N peeked through her fingers, her face flushed. “Derek, stop. You’re embarrassing us.”

Derek laughed heartily, the sound filling the kitchen. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave.”

As they settled into making breakfast together, the initial awkwardness faded, replaced by the easy camaraderie of friends. Despite the unexpected visit, the morning turned out to be filled with laughter and warmth, a continuation of the night before.

After breakfast, the three of them sat around the table, finishing their coffee. The conversation was light and easy, but eventually, Derek glanced at his watch and then at Spencer.

“Hey, Reid, I can give you a ride home if you want,” Derek offered casually.

Spencer hesitated, not wanting to leave Y/N’s company just yet, but he knew it would be rude to refuse. “Uh, sure, thanks, Derek.”

Y/N gave Spencer a reassuring smile. “I’ll see you later, Spencer.”

Spencer nodded, feeling a mix of reluctance and resignation. “Yeah, see you later.”

As they walked out to Derek’s car, Spencer took a deep breath, preparing himself for the inevitable grilling. Once they were on the road, Derek wasted no time.

“So, Reid,” Derek began, his tone deceptively casual, “what exactly happened last night?”

Spencer fidgeted slightly in his seat. “We went back to her place and then went to sleep. That’s it.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, glancing at Spencer. “Just slept, huh?”

Spencer nodded, feeling the need to defend himself. “Yes, Derek. That’s all we did. She was feeling comfortable and wanted me to stay, so I did.”

Derek’s expression softened slightly, but he wasn’t done yet. “Look, man, I know Y/N is an adult, and so are you. But that’s my girl. Just... be careful, okay?”

Spencer nodded earnestly. “I will, Derek. I promise. She’s… special.”

Derek sighed, his protective instincts still on high alert. “Alright, Pretty Boy. I trust you. Just remember, don’t hurt her.”

“I won’t,” Spencer said, his voice firm.

Derek gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder as they pulled up to Spencer’s place. “Good. Now get some rest, and I’ll see you at work.”

Spencer got out of the car, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude. “Thanks for the ride, Derek. See you later.”

As he walked to his door, Spencer couldn’t help but think about the night before and the possibilities that lay ahead with Y/N. Despite the grilling, he felt a sense of clarity and purpose. He knew he wanted to see Y/N again, and he was determined to take her on a proper date.

—

A week passed, and Y/N didn’t hear from Spencer. She kept busy with her new job and fully settling in, but she thought he might have asked Derek for her number or showed up at her door. But nothing.

Sunday evening, Derek and Y/N went to see a movie. As they walked home after, Y/N tried to get Derek to bring up Spencer without having to ask directly.

“So, how’s the team been this week?” Y/N asked casually, glancing at Derek.

Derek shrugged. “Same old, same old. Cases, paperwork, the usual.”

“Any interesting cases?” Y/N prodded, hoping to steer the conversation toward Spencer.

Derek chuckled. “Trying to get insider info now, huh?”

Y/N laughed, playfully nudging him. “Maybe a little. I’m just curious how everyone’s doing.”

“Everyone’s fine,” Derek said, then paused, eyeing her suspiciously. “You’re really asking about Reid, aren’t you?”

Y/N blushed, caught off guard by Derek’s directness. “Well, yeah. I mean, I haven’t heard from him all week. I thought...”

Derek sighed, a hint of frustration in his voice. “Pretty Boy’s been keeping to himself. He’s been swamped with work, but I think he’s also overthinking things, as usual.”

Y/N looked down, feeling a bit disappointed. “Oh. I see.”

Derek stopped walking and turned to face her. “Look, Y/N, Spencer likes you. But he’s got this thing where he second-guesses himself. He probably thinks he’s messed up somehow.”

Y/N’s eyes softened. “I thought we clicked, or something. I wish he’d just talk to me. I don’t bite.”

Derek grinned. “I know. You just need to be patient with him. He’ll come around.”

They continued their walk, the conversation shifting to lighter topics. However, Y/N’s thoughts lingered on Spencer. She hoped Derek was right and that Spencer would find the courage to reach out.

—

Monday morning, Spencer was sitting at his desk, engrossed in a case file, when Derek approached with a mischievous grin. Without warning, Derek smacked a sticky note on Spencer's forehead.

“Call her, dumbass,” Derek said, chuckling as he walked away.

Spencer blinked in surprise, reaching up to peel the note off his forehead. He read it and felt a mixture of embarrassment and determination. He glanced around to make sure no one else had noticed, then pulled out his phone. He entered Y/N’s number for safekeeping, deciding he’d call later.

“I saw that, Reid. You better call her, or I won’t hesitate to whoop your pretty boy ass,” Derek said, his tone half-serious.

Spencer shrunk in on himself before giving Derek an affectionate middle finger. He then stood up and walked into an empty office, dialing the number.

“Hello…?”

“Hi! Um, Y/N? It’s Spencer. Uh, Derek, he kind of hit me with a sticky note that had your number on it.”

“Oh.”

“I wanted your number! I want to take you on a date if you’ll let me.”

“Oh, yes, uh, yeah, Spencer, I’d love that. I thought when I hadn’t heard from you that you’d changed your mind.”

“No, no. I’m sorry, at first I didn’t want to seem too eager, and then I started to think too much and then I was hit,” Spencer explained, his voice tinged with a mix of apology and humor.

Y/N laughed softly. “Well, I’m sorry you got hit… but I’m also glad Derek gave you that push. When would you like to go out?”

“How about Thursday evening? I know a nice Italian restaurant,” Spencer suggested, feeling more confident.

“That sounds perfect. What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“Great. I’m looking forward to it, Spencer.”

“Me too, Y/N. See you then.”

After hanging up, Spencer felt a wave of relief and excitement. He stepped out of the office and saw Derek watching him from across the bullpen, giving him a thumbs up. Spencer rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but smile.

“Thanks, Derek,” Spencer said, feeling grateful for his friend’s push.

Derek grinned. “Anytime, Pretty Boy. Now get back to work. You’ve got a date to prepare for.”

Spencer nodded, turning back to his case file, his mind buzzing with anticipation for Thursday. He was determined to make it a night to remember for both him and Y/N.

—

It was Thursday evening, and Spencer stood nervously outside Y/N’s door, holding a bouquet of her favorite flowers. He took a deep breath and knocked, his heart racing with anticipation.

A moment later, Y/N opened the door, her eyes lighting up as she saw the bouquet. “How did you know?”

Spencer smiled, a bit sheepishly. “Derek.”

Y/N chuckled. “Of course. Thank you, Spencer, they’re beautiful.”

Spencer handed her the flowers, his smile growing. “I’m glad you like them.”

“Come in for a moment while I put these in water,” Y/N said, stepping aside to let him in.

Spencer entered, feeling the warmth of her home. As Y/N arranged the flowers in a vase, he admired how comfortable and inviting her space was. Once Spencer looked at Y/N, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She looked absolutely stunning. She was in another dress that fit her perfectly, accentuating every asset flawlessly. Spencer swiped at his mouth, afraid he was drooling.

Y/N turned around and noticed Spencer’s intense stare. “Is everything okay? Is there something on my dress?”

In her self-conscious attempts to brush anything off her dress, Y/N managed to make the dress frame her breasts even better, causing Spencer’s brain to shut off. He hadn’t been this unable to control his desire since he lost his virginity.

“Spencer? Hey, you’re scaring me.”

Spencer didn’t say anything. He walked quickly toward Y/N, grabbing her face in his big hands, engulfing almost her whole head, and kissed her. Y/N was caught completely off guard, but after a moment of surprise, she melted into the kiss, responding with equal passion.

The kiss was intense and filled with the unspoken tension that had been building between them. Spencer’s hands moved from her face to her waist, pulling her closer. Y/N’s arms wrapped around his neck, deepening the kiss.

When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless, their eyes locked in a heated gaze.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer whispered, his voice hoarse. “I couldn’t help myself.”

Spencer’s heart raced, and he leaned in to kiss her again, this time slower and more tenderly. He slowly slid his hands down to her ass, pulling her body against his. Now with full contact, Spencer was able to grind his growing erection against Y/N’s lower stomach. The noise he let out was deep and guttural; it had been a long time since he’d had any intimate contact with someone other than himself.

“Spencer… mmm,” Y/N moaned softly, her breath hitching at the intensity of his touch. “Spencer, the restaurant…”

“Forget about it,” Spencer murmured, his lips moving against hers.

Y/N was torn between the logical part of her that knew they had plans and the overwhelming desire she felt in Spencer’s arms. The heat between them was undeniable, and the way he held her made her feel wanted and cherished in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Spencer’s lips captured hers again, and they moved together, stumbling toward the bedroom. Their hands roamed each other’s bodies, exploring and savoring every touch. The anticipation built with each step, making their hearts race even faster.

Spencer smiled, and with that, they let go of any remaining hesitations. They fell onto the bed together, their kisses growing deeper and more urgent. Spencer pulled back slightly to pull Y/N’s dress over her head, revealing her bare chest.

“Fuck, you are so goddamn gorgeous,” Spencer whispered, his voice filled with awe and desire.

“Spencer, please,” Y/N moaned, her voice tinged with need.

“Oh baby, I got you,” Spencer replied, his voice husky with passion.

Spencer dove down and attached his mouth to Y/N’s nipple, biting, sucking, and licking. Y/N's moans filled the room, her body arching toward him as he continued his ministrations. His hands roamed her body, exploring every inch of her skin, committing each sensation to memory.

Y/N's fingers tangled in Spencer's hair, pulling him closer as she reveled in the pleasure he was giving her. She could feel the intensity of his desire, matched only by her own. Spencer's mouth moved from one nipple to the other, his tongue flicking and swirling, driving Y/N wild with need. What made her thrust her hips up in desperation was when Spencer looked up at her with her breast in his mouth, smiling with her nipple between his teeth and tugging gently. Y/N thought she was going to orgasm right then and there.

“Spencer! Oh fuck! Please, please, do something, I need you to do something,” she pleaded, her voice filled with urgency.

Spencer's hands moved to her hips, gripping them firmly as he continued to lavish attention on her chest. He could feel her body responding to his touch, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Slowly, he moved his hand down to her panties, lightly tracing his pointer finger down the seam, making her whine desperately and wiggle for more.

"Patience, Y/N," Spencer murmured against her skin, his voice sending shivers down her spine.

Y/N's hips bucked against his hand, seeking more friction. "Please, Spencer, I need you."

Spencer's smile widened as he hooked his finger under the fabric of her panties, slowly pulling them down her legs. His fingers teased her folds, brushing lightly against her clit, making her moan and writhe beneath him.

"You're so beautiful," Spencer whispered, his breath hot against her skin.

He continued his slow, deliberate exploration, his fingers finally applying pressure to her clit. He rubbed gentle, teasing circles, making Y/N gasp and clutch the sheets. Her hips moved in rhythm with his touch, her body aching for more.

"Spencer, please," she begged, her voice trembling with need.

“God I love it when you beg for me, you’re so sexy,” Spencer breathed out, biting gently now on Y/N’s throat.

Spencer slipped a finger inside her, eliciting a sharp cry of pleasure from Y/N. He moved his finger slowly at first, then added another, his movements precise and controlled. Y/N's moans grew louder, her body arching off the bed as she chased her release. He curled his fingers up, feeling the wetness grow and splash out around his fingers.

Y/N was writhing in pleasure, the feeling of Spencer’s long, slender fingers pushing into her over and over was beginning to be too much. So much she felt herself drawing near a release, her core clenching tightly around Spencer’s fingers.

"You're doing so well," Spencer murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Y/N could feel the tension building, her entire body tightening as she neared the edge. "Spencer, I'm so close..."

Spencer increased the pace of his fingers, his thumb finding her clit and applying just the right amount of pressure, rubbing quickly. "Let go, Y/N," he urged softly. "I've got you."

With a final, desperate cry, Y/N's body convulsed as she came around his fingers, waves of pleasure washing over her. Spencer held her through it, his fingers never stopping their gentle caress until she finally came down from her high, trembling and spent.

Spencer kissed her softly, his lips gentle against hers. "You okay?" he asked, his voice full of tenderness.

Y/N nodded, her breath still coming in short gasps. "Thank you."

Spencer laughed, his eyes filled with affection. "Did you just thank me?"

“Uh huh,” Y/N replied, dazed and satiated, her eyes half-closed with contentment.

Spencer chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re welcome. I’m just glad I could make you feel good.”

“Where… where did you learn how to do that?” Y/N asked, curiosity and surprise in her voice.

Spencer’s cheeks flushed slightly. “Did you think I was a virgin?”

Y/N hesitated, a sheepish smile on her face. “No… maybe.”

Spencer laughed softly. “Well, thanks for that. I’m not a virgin. But… to answer your question… I read a lot of Doctor Who fanfiction.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, and then she burst into laughter. “You’re kidding, right?”

Spencer shook his head, grinning. “Nope. It’s amazing what you can learn from well-written fanfiction.”

Y/N shook her head in amused disbelief. “Well, I’m impressed. And grateful for all those fanfic authors out there.”

Spencer’s grin widened. “Me too.”

They shared a quiet moment of laughter, the lightness of the conversation adding to the intimacy they felt. Y/N reached out, taking Spencer’s hand in hers. “Thank you for being so… you.”

Spencer squeezed her hand gently. “And thank you for accepting me as I am.”

Y/N smiled, her eyes shining with affection. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Do you want to show me what else you learned?”

“Fuck yeah,” Spencer replied, his voice filled with eager anticipation.

He moved to kneel between her thighs, but Y/N stopped him. He looked up at her, curious.

“Can you take your shirt off? Please?” she asked softly.

Spencer had a smug smile as he took his shirt off, revealing his lean, toned torso. He then resumed his position between Y/N’s thighs. He breathed out on her core, making her squirm and laugh quietly before licking through her soaked folds. Spencer groaned at the taste, loving everything Y/N had to offer.

Y/N’s breath hitched, her fingers tangling in his hair as she felt the warmth and wetness of his tongue against her clit. Spencer took his time, savoring every moment, using everything he had learned to bring her pleasure. His tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes, alternating between gentle licks and firmer presses.

As Y/N’s moans grew louder, Spencer’s confidence soared. He wrapped his arms around her thighs, holding her steady as he continued his ministrations. Her body responded eagerly, arching and trembling beneath his touch.

“Spencer… oh god, that feels so good,” Y/N gasped, her voice breaking with pleasure.

Spencer smiled against her center, increasing the intensity of his efforts. He used his fingers to part her lips, giving him better access, and began to focus on her most sensitive spot with his tongue. Y/N’s moans turned into cries of ecstasy, her grip on his hair tightening. Spencer groaned deeply at the feeling of having his hair pulled, in turn Y/N thrashed as Spencer’s groan vibrated through her. He tightened his grip on her thighs, keeping her secured to his mouth.

“Please, Spencer… don’t stop,” she begged, her voice barely a whisper.

Spencer had no intention of stopping. He continued to lick, suck, and tease, driving her closer and closer to the edge. He entered two fingers once again, repeatedly hitting that sweet spot in Y/N’s core. When he sensed she was about to reach her peak, he applied just the right amount of pressure, sending her over the edge with a powerful, shuddering release.

Y/N cried out, her body convulsing with pleasure as she comes around Spencer's fingers and tongue. He held her through it, his mouth never leaving her until she finally collapsed back onto the bed, panting and spent.

Spencer’s head pops up from between her legs, chin shining in the moonlight. “How was that?”

Y/N looked down at him, her eyes still dazed with pleasure. “That was... intense. You’re amazing, Spencer.”

He smiled, leaning up to kiss her gently. “So are you, Y/N.”

“Oh my god! Did you just kiss me? Is that what I taste like? I’ve never tasted myself before,” Y/N exclaimed, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Y/N. Did that make you uncomfortable?” Spencer asked, concern flashing across his face.

“No, I was just surprised is all,” she reassured him, still processing the new experience.

“Well, I think you taste delicious. In fact, we can go for another round if you need me to prove it to you,” Spencer teased, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Ahhh,” Y/N covered her face with her hands, embarrassed but pleased. “No, I need a breather.”

Spencer chuckled softly, pulling her hands away from her face and kissing her forehead. “Take all the time you need. I’m just happy being here with you.”

Y/N smiled, feeling the warmth of his affection. “I’m happy you’re here too, Spencer.”

Spencer cuddled up to Y/N, and she felt his bulge against her side. She hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“Oh, um, do you need some help with that?” she asked softly.

“What? Oh no, you don’t need to do anything,” Spencer replied, his voice a bit strained.

“I want to,” Y/N insisted, her eyes meeting his.

Spencer's eyes softened, and he nodded. “Okay, then yeah, baby, you can touch me.”

“Okay,” Y/N breathed out slowly, trying to calm her nerves.

“Have you been with anyone before?” Spencer asked gently.

“Yes, but I don’t want to talk about that right now,” Y/N replied, her voice firm yet kind.

“Of course,” Spencer said, respecting her boundaries.

“Just, kiss me. Please.”

“With pleasure,” Spencer whispered, leaning in to capture her lips.

Y/N reached down into his pants and grabbed Spencer’s cock, feeling its smooth, heavy weight in her palm. Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, already beginning to pant against her mouth. The sensation of her touch sent shivers down his spine, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth with renewed fervor.

As Y/N stroked him, Spencer��s breathing grew more ragged, his body responding eagerly to her touch. He moaned into her mouth, his hands gripping her hips tightly. Y/N’s grip tightened each time she got close to the head, which made Spencer blurt precome continuously.

“Y/N… you’re driving me crazy,” Spencer managed to say between breaths.

She smiled against his lips, feeling a surge of confidence and desire. “I want to make you feel good, Spencer.”

“You already are,” he panted, his eyes dark with need.

Y/N’s movements became more deliberate, her hand sliding up and down his cock with an easier slide due to the pre cum he was producing, eliciting deep, guttural moans from him. Spencer’s body tensed, his muscles straining as he fought to hold back.

“Y/N… I’m so close,” he warned, his voice trembling.

Y/N took her hand away quickly, not wanting it to be over. “What? Y/N, why did you do that?” Spencer spoke quickly in a higher pitch, his frustration evident.

“I want you inside me,” Y/N said, her voice filled with need.

“Oh my god, okay, yes,” Spencer responded, his eyes widening with desire.

Spencer quickly took off the rest of his clothing, his heart pounding in anticipation. He looked at Y/N, his eyes searching hers. “How do you want me?”

“I want to look into your eyes,” she replied softly.

Spencer nodded, positioning himself above her, their bodies aligned. He paused for a moment, looking deeply into her eyes, his hand gently caressing her cheek. “Are you ready?” he asked, his voice tender.

“Yes,” Y/N breathed, her eyes locked onto his.

Spencer entered her slowly, both of them gasping at the sensation. He moved with deliberate slowness, savoring every moment, their eyes never breaking contact. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, and they both felt an incredible connection, deeper than anything they had experienced before.

Y/N wrapped her legs around Spencer’s waist, pulling him closer, encouraging him to move faster. Spencer complied, increasing his pace, their bodies moving in perfect harmony.

“Spencer,” Y/N moaned, her hands gripping his shoulders.

“You feel so good, Y/N,” Spencer groaned, his movements becoming more urgent.

They continued to move together, their breaths and moans mingling in the air. The intensity built, the pleasure growing with each thrust. Spencer could feel himself nearing the edge again, and he could tell Y/N was close too.

“Y/N, I’m so close,” Spencer gasped, his voice strained with pleasure.

“Oh god, Spencer,” Y/N moaned, her eyes wide with desire.

“You gonna let me finish this time?” he teased breathlessly in her ear.

Y/N nodded frantically, the thought of Spencer finishing inside her and filling her up driving her crazy. She brought her hand up to his back, dragging her nails down, scratching him up. Spencer groaned wildly, loving the pain.

“Fuck… I’m coming,” he moaned, his body tensing as he thrust into her one final time.

Y/N felt Spencer’s cum filling her up, squelching out of her as he continued to thrust gently through his orgasm.. The sensation has her crying out, her body shaking with pleasure.

They clung to each other, their bodies trembling from the intensity. Spencer buried his face in Y/N’s neck, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Y/N held him close, her fingers still tracing patterns on his back.

As the waves of pleasure began to subside, Spencer lifted his head to look into Y/N’s eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

Y/N smiled, her eyes shining with affection and satisfaction. “My pleasure.”

Spencer gently rolled to the side, pulling Y/N into his arms. They lay there, basking in the afterglow, their bodies still intertwined. The bond between them had deepened even further, and they both knew they had found something truly special.

“I’m sorry we never made it to dinner,” Spencer said softly, a hint of regret in his voice.

“It’s okay, Spencer. We can go another time… if you still want to see me after this,” Y/N replied, not meeting his eyes.

“Are you kidding? Of course I want to see you again. This was not just a one-time thing. I really like you, Y/N,” Spencer said earnestly.

“I really like you too,” Y/N replied, her smile radiant, now looking into his beautiful brown eyes.

They shared a long, tender kiss before deciding to order takeout. After they ate their food, they settled on the couch and put on Doctor Who reruns.

Y/N nestled into Spencer’s side, her head resting on his shoulder. “So, tell me, what happened in those fanfictions? Which character taught you how to please a woman?”

Spencer laughed, a bit embarrassed. “Well, there were a few. But I think the one that stands out the most was a story where the Doctor and Rose... um, let’s just say they had some very detailed adventures.”

Y/N giggled, her fingers tracing patterns on his tummy. “I see. I’ll have to thank those fanfiction writers someday.”

Spencer blushed, shaking his head. “I never thought I’d actually use any of that knowledge.”

“Well, I’m glad you did,” Y/N said, looking up at him with a playful smile. “You certainly know what you’re doing.”

Spencer’s blush deepened, but he couldn’t help but smile back. “I’m glad I could put them to good use.”

By the time the credits rolled on the last episode, they were both feeling a deep sense of contentment and happiness. Spencer held Y/N close, feeling grateful for the connection they had found.

“Thank you for tonight, Y/N,” Spencer said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Thank you, Spencer,” Y/N replied, snuggling closer. “I’m really glad you stayed.”

They fell asleep in each other’s arms, knowing that this was just the beginning of something beautiful.

—

Weeks had passed, and Spencer and Y/N had already had their first, second, third, and fourth dates. They were now officially boyfriend and girlfriend, but they had only told Derek, wanting to keep their honeymoon bubble intact. Life was sweet, and their bond had only grown stronger with each passing day.

One afternoon, Spencer was walking down the hallway when he overheard JJ talking to a random FBI agent. She was speaking in a low voice, thinking no one else could hear her.

“I just don’t get it,” JJ said, her tone laced with bitterness. “What does he even see in her? Y/N is just so… plain. She’s not even that interesting. Spencer deserves someone better.”

Spencer felt a surge of anger and hurt on Y/N’s behalf. He couldn’t believe JJ was talking about Y/N like that. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he stepped forward, making his presence known.

“Excuse me, JJ,” Spencer said, his voice firm and controlled.

JJ jumped, her face flushing with embarrassment as she turned to see Spencer standing behind her. The random agent quickly excused himself, sensing the tension.

“Spencer, I… I didn’t think–,” JJ stammered, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Think? That’s the problem, JJ, you didn’t think. And I didn’t realize you had so much hatred towards my girlfriend. I have to say, I’m really disappointed in you, JJ. Y/N is an incredible person, and she deserves so much better than the petty, jealous remarks you just made,” Spencer said, his voice steady and firm.

JJ’s face turned a deeper shade of red. “Spencer, I didn’t mean—wait, girlfriend?”

“Yes, JJ, Y/N is my girlfriend,” Spencer replied, his eyes narrowing.

“You picked her over me?” JJ asked, her voice a mixture of shock and hurt.

“Over you? JJ, you weren’t even an option, on my radar, or in the running! You have Will and Henry!” Spencer exclaimed, his frustration clear. “You have a family, JJ. Y/N is the one I’ve chosen to be with because she makes me happy, and I care about her deeply.”

JJ’s eyes filled with tears, and she looked down, unable to meet Spencer’s gaze. “I… I’m sorry, Spencer. I didn’t realize how much she meant to you.”

Spencer took a deep breath, trying to calm his emotions. “JJ, I need you to understand something. Y/N is important to me, and I won’t tolerate anyone speaking badly about her, especially not someone I consider a friend.”

JJ nodded, wiping away a tear. “I get it, Spencer. I’m really sorry. I let my jealousy get the best of me, and it was wrong.”

Spencer’s expression softened slightly, though his disappointment remained. “Just remember that, JJ. Y/N hasn’t done anything to deserve your disdain.”

“I understand,” JJ whispered.

Spencer nodded, feeling a bit of the tension ease. “Good. Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

As he turned to walk away, JJ called out softly, “Spencer, I really am sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”

Spencer paused for a moment before responding. “I hope so too, JJ.”

Walking back to the bullpen, Spencer felt a mix of relief and sadness. He caught Derek’s eye, who gave him a questioning look. Spencer nodded slightly, indicating that everything was handled. Derek gave him a supportive smile and a thumbs up.

Returning to his desk, Spencer felt the weight of the confrontation lift a little. He knew he had done the right thing by standing up for Y/N. Their relationship was worth protecting, and he was determined to make sure it remained strong, no matter what obstacles they faced.

—

JJ, feeling a mix of shame and desperation after her confrontation with Spencer, decided she couldn’t continue working at the BAU. She needed a fresh start, away from the tension and the unspoken feelings that had now come to light. With a heavy heart, she made her way to Hotch’s office, determined to ask for a transfer.

Without knocking, JJ opened the door and walked in, only to be met with a sight she hadn’t expected. Hotch and Emily were in an embrace, their lips locked in a passionate kiss at his desk. They broke apart abruptly at the sound of the door opening, both of them looking startled and embarrassed.

“JJ!” Hotch exclaimed, his face turning a deep shade of red. “I—uh, we—”

Emily stepped back, smoothing her hair and trying to compose herself. “JJ, we didn’t realize—”

JJ held up her hands, her own embarrassment mixing with the turmoil of her emotions. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just… I need to talk to you, Hotch. It’s important.”

Hotch cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Of course, JJ. What is it?” He nodded at Emily, silently signaling her to leave.

Emily walked out of the office, flushed, embarrassed, and nervous.

Derek, noticing her discomfort, raised an eyebrow. “Wow, Prentiss. You look like you’ve seen a ghost. You good?”

Emily tried to shake off her nerves. “Wanna get a drink?”

“It’s 10 am,” Derek pointed out, though his tone was more curious than disapproving.

“Okay,” Emily replied, clearly in need of a distraction.

Derek chuckled softly. “Yeah, alright. What about Hotch?”

“He’ll understand,” Emily said, glancing back at the office door.

As they headed towards the break room, Derek couldn’t help but probe a bit more. “So, what happened in there? You and Hotch seemed pretty cozy.”

Emily sighed, knowing she couldn’t avoid the topic forever. “It’s… complicated, Derek.”

He gave her a supportive smile. “Hey, whatever it is, I’m here for you. You know that, right?”

Emily nodded, feeling a bit of the tension ease. “I know. Thanks, Derek.”

The two agents walked to a nearby bar. Emily got them a pitcher of beer and they found a quiet corner to talk.

Derek poured them both a glass, then leaned back, looking at Emily expectantly. “Alright, Prentiss, spill.”

Emily took a deep breath, taking a long sip of her beer before speaking. “After the club night, Aaron and I slept together, and we’ve been secretly seeing each other ever since. JJ just caught us.”

Derek’s eyes widened in surprise. “You and Hotch? Seriously?”

Emily nodded, a mix of anxiety and relief on her face. “Yeah. It just… happened. And we’ve been trying to keep it under wraps because, you know, the team and work dynamics and all that.”

Derek took a moment to process the information, then let out a low whistle. “Wow. That’s... a lot. But, hey, I’m happy for you guys. You both deserve to be happy.”

Emily smiled, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thanks, Derek. I really appreciate that. It’s just been so stressful trying to keep it a secret, and now with JJ finding out…”

Derek nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, I get it. But you know, JJ will come around. And the rest of the team? They’ll support you.”

Emily sighed, feeling a bit lighter. “I hope so. I really care about him, Derek.”

Derek reached out and squeezed her hand. “If Hotch makes you happy, that’s all that matters.”

Emily nodded, grateful for Derek’s support. They clinked their glasses together and took a drink, the weight of their secrets feeling a little less heavy with each passing moment.

—

After finishing work, Spencer found himself unable to wait to see Y/N. On impulse, he decided to show up at her townhouse unannounced. He knocked on her door, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.

Y/N answered the door, looking surprised but pleased to see him. She was dressed casually in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, her hair tousled and face free of makeup. She looked completely undone, clearly not expecting visitors.

“Spencer! What a surprise,” she said, stepping aside to let him in.

“Hey,” Spencer replied, his eyes taking in her appearance. He thought she looked absolutely beautiful, her natural state only enhancing his feelings for her. He couldn’t help but stare at her with a dopey, lovesick, contemplative expression.

Y/N noticed his intense gaze and felt a bit self-conscious. “What’s going on, Spencer? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Spencer snapped out of his reverie and smiled. “Sorry, I just… you look beautiful. I couldn’t help but stare.”

Y/N blushed, a smile spreading across her face. “Oh, stop. I look like a mess.”

“To me, you look perfect,” Spencer said sincerely.

Y/N felt a warm flutter in her chest at his words. “Come on in. Make yourself comfortable. Want something to drink?”

“Sure, thanks,” Spencer said, following her into the living room. He took a seat on the couch, still watching her with that same affectionate gaze.

Y/N brought him a glass of water and sat down beside him. “So, what brings you here unannounced?”

Spencer’s expression turned serious, and he took a deep breath. “I wanted to see you, and… there’s something I wanted to tell you.”

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed with concern. “What is it, Spencer?”

“It’s about JJ,” Spencer began, his voice hesitant. “Today, she was talking to another agent, and she said some really hurtful things. I overheard her, and I confronted her.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “What did she say?”

“What she said isn’t important,” Spencer said, a mixture of anger and sadness in his voice. “She was jealous and bitter, and she didn’t realize I was standing right behind her.”

Y/N’s heart sank. “I see. What did you do?”

“I defended you. I told her that you’re my girlfriend and that I care about you. I made it clear that I won’t tolerate anyone talking badly about you, especially not someone I consider a friend,�� Spencer said firmly.

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, but she managed a smile. “You did that for me?”

“Of course I did,” Spencer said, taking her hand in his. “I care about you so much, Y/N. I won’t let anyone come between us.”

Y/N squeezed his hand, feeling a surge of love for him. “Thank you, Spencer. That means more to me than you know.”

Spencer leaned in and kissed her gently, his lips lingering on hers. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Spencer,” Y/N whispered, her heart swelling with emotion.

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softshuji · 8 months ago

Text

Mikey's voice is light.

It's tinkly, a little melodic, a little soft, airy- sounding, like a breeze coming through an open window.

You like how it sounds when he speaks, when he laughs, and especially when he says your name, the little 'chin' at the end he hasn't quite dropped despite being well into adulthood.

You like it even now, a thousand miles away, the tinkly breeze of his voice inundated by the crackle of the receiver, and the occasional shuffle as he takes another bite of a snack on hand.

And he always hums between it, changes position in his bed, an occasional "oof" as he turns over and presses the phone to his ear.

He likes your voice but he's not half as good with the words to describe it. He says it's "pretty" that's it - he likes your accent, the way your mouth forms certain words, the lilting foreignness of his name on your tongue, when you elongate "manjiro" to get his attention.

He's never said it mind you, but he thinks you know it already- or at least he hopes you do. You talk a lot with him, and he's surprised by how much he likes listening.

He's never been the type to slow himself down for anyone, take such a vested interest but it's different with you. He likes the wait, the "uhm" you do before you answer a question, the hum that often accompanies your thoughts.

Like now when you're quiet and he can tell that you're thinking, can almost imagine your eyes fixed to a spot with a frown.

'Hey 'jiro, can I ask a question?' you say now and your voice is punctuated by the rhythmic thump of the washing machine in the room adjacent.

It's a nice sound, helps to ground him sometimes. These almost nightly calls where you're letting him into your space even if it isn't physically. A reminder that you're there, that you're always there.

'Mhm? Yeah?' and he takes a bite of steaming hot taiyaki, winces when the steam seems to burn his tongue and you suppress a laugh at how he curses a "shit that's hot" and takes a swig of juice.

It's almost too comfortable at times like this. You could easily get lost in it- moments that never seem to end, the atmosphere punctuated by a tension that never breaks, a siren somewhere that reminds you of how far the two of you are, the lull in the line where the signal breaks.

And it's almost too easy to say, when you whisper a 'What would you do if you were in love with someone?'

And the silence is palpable, terrifyingly loud.

He stops chewing, eyes widening, a hand half halted in the air as he stares at the receiver, a sinking ache that settles in his tummy.

But he's Mikey, he's manjiro. And he's always known what that meant - the type that never lets anything bother him too much- the type that never cries in front of others- the type that has to be the man you need even if you don't feel like you need him.

'Huh?' he says, a little forced, a lump of taiyaki suddenly caught in his throat. 'You in love with someone or something?'

'Maybe I am. And maybe you know them.'

He lifts an eyebrow, the ache snaking towards his ribs. 'I know them?' and then, a sudden burst of noise. 'Is it ken-chin?! Oh you know ken-chin is in love with Emma-'

'No dummy! It's not ken-chin! I know he's with Emma, I'm not that mean that I'd go after your sisters boyfriend y'know.'

And he laughs unexpectedly at your sudden outburst, and it makes the tension a little easier to bear despite what he knows is coming, a rejection and hurt that he's spent a long time preparing for.

'Oh so not ken-chin,' he says and rolls over, propping his chin up in a hand that now discards the taiyaki wrapper on the bedside table. 'So do I get a clue?'

'No,' you say now, your voice broken by the pop-pop of a car exhausting it's engine outside. 'I didn't say I would tell you who it was y'know. But think...a little closer to home maybe.'

'Oh.......'I get it.' A beat. 'You're in love with Emma!'

'No?! When I said closer to home I didn't mean it like that!' You huff in faux annoyance, and he smiles to himself, the tug of his lips instinctual when he senses the irritation in you, and it hurts to prolong this kind of pain, to slowly tug the band-aid.

'Mhm, you could just tell me yknow, maybe I could help set you up.'

And you roll onto your back, stretch out a hand to the window where the moon sits on a branch, the white ivory of it cracked by the grey mist of the clouds.

'I do not trust you as far as I could throw you when it comes to matchmaking me manjiro.'

'Hey!' he says, a familiar pout as he stretches his hand towards the window on his own side, the edge of his white tank top riding up as he shifts onto his back. 'I'm not that bad. You saying I couldn't find someone who treats you like a princess?'

I could.

You giggle, a slip of a laugh despite the brewing tears. 'I don't doubt it, but no, I don't need you to matchmake me. And besides you're getting off topic. I asked what would you do if you were in love with someone....someone you knew.'

And you sigh, a half stifled thing that you hope he doesn't notice, hope is lost somewhere in the end to end encryption. And he pauses in thought, turning it over on his tongue, the familiar ache, the pain that never ends when he speaks to you, a dread that always follows the searing hurt of your smile across his chest. 'Mhm, depends who they were. Someone close?'

'I guess so. We're...best friends. At least I'd like to think so.'

'Excuse me, you have other best friends that aren't me?!'

You stiffen, pull back a little, a dangerously close dip to the truth. 'I didn't - that's not the point!' you huff, hoping it hides enough, hoping you're still elusive. 'Would you tell them?'

And his heart thunders across his ribs, a plummet into his stomach, a redness that spills across the ivory of his skin. He lapses into a silence then, a quietness punctuated by the thwack of the branches on the window.

'Jiro?'

'Huh? Oh yeah sorry, got distracted by something.' And he clears his throat, swallowing the ache, the spiky slice of a knife edge across his chest. 'I would only tell them if I knew they liked me too, if I was sure.'

'And....how would you be sure?' A whisper dripped down the line.

His tongue is heavy, clinging to the roof of his mouth, a weight that's heavy and suffocating. 'I don't know, I don't think you could be without being honest.'

'But being honest means you might be wrong, because what if they don't like you back? Especially as your best friend.'

You muffle the sniffle, time it perfectly with the roll onto your side, the moon now falling and hidden entirely by the trees, a white ring of light that cracks through the branches.

'Yeah....' he says, a trail of a murmur that's soft and silky. 'I guess you don't really know unless you try.'

And he hates that he holds out hope, that he wishes he could hear it even now, knowing what he knows, and hoping to hold on anyway.

'Mhm...yeah you're right.' A crash, a crescendo, an end. 'Anyway, 'Jiro, it's late, I gotta go okay?'

'Yeah, yeah me too,' he says, a disappointment crashing through his bones. 'I'll see you tomorrow yeah?'

'Mhm, goodnight 'Jiro.'

'Goodnight Princess.'

And he holds the phone to his ear long after you're gone, watching the moon fall further down, a hand of his stretched out towards it, knowing somehow somewhere you're doing the same.

Reblogs appreciated

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokyorev x reader #manjiro sano #sano manjiro #mikey x reader

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hanaridulsetcheese · 2 months ago

Text

dancing with dean

You walk out into the main room of the bunker after taking a steaming hot shower, hair was slightly damp and you were in a tank top and shorts, the usual get up.

You were on your way to the kitchen to get something to drink when you pass Dean in the main room.

"Hey, you're up late. " Dean follows you and sits at the kitchen table as you opened up the fridge to get water.

"Just took an everything shower, I need some hydration. "

Dean watches, his eyes roaming over your body in your tank top and shorts. He can't help but let his gaze linger on your curves before quickly looking away, clearing his throat as he tries to maintain a casual demeanor.

"Water, huh? Not exactly the typical drink around here. " he teased lightly, his lips curving into a small smirk. You chuckle at take a seat opposite him.

"So an 'everything shower'? Sounds like you scrubbed yourself from head to toe," he teased, his eyes still lingering on you for a moment before he looked away.

"That's basically what it is. I'm as fresh as a daisy now. " you nod.

"Fresh as a daisy, huh?" he repeated, a small smile playing on his lips. "But what exactly makes that different from a regular shower. "

"You don't know what an everything shower is? " you fake offence. "It's something every girl does at least once every two weeks. Extensive hair care, body washes, personally this is the time I get to use my expensive washes, a little luxury I get to have after all the hunting. "

He raised an eyebrow, a look of mock surprise on his face. "Sounds like a pain in the ass if you ask me. " he teased, taking a swig of his beer. "Seems like a hell of a lot of work just to get clean," he continued, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "But hey, I get it. You girls need your little luxuries.

"I'm so clean, I smell like a cupcake, smell. " you lean across the table to let Dean smell you.

He lets out a hearty laugh, his green eyes glinting in the dim light from the moon. The scent of your freshly washed skin filling his lungs as you leaned across the table. His eyes met yours, lingering for a moment, "You really do smell good," he admitted, a genuine smile on his face. "Like a damn cupcake."

"Vanilla body wash and perfume. " you give him a proud nod. He laughs at your antics and opens up your water bottle without having to ask. It's a common thing amongst you two for him to do things like this unconsciously.

It was instinct for him, opening the bottle for you. He didn't even realize he did it half the time, it had become so second nature. But he liked doing it, making things just a little bit easier for you.

"I like it," he replied with a smile, watching as you take a sip of water.

"So, aside from smelling like a damn cupcake, what else does this 'everything shower' involve?" he teased, taking a swig of his beer.

"Depends on the person to be honest. It's just a way to relax and wash away the bad stuff from the week or whatever. It's therapeutic. "

He nods in understanding, a thoughtful look on his face. "Sounds like something Sammy would do, not me," he commented with a small chuckle but secretly he thought it sounded kind of nice. Being able to wash away the stress and tension of hunting sounded heavenly. But he'd never admit that, of course.

"Maybe I should give it a try sometime," he teased. "But don't expect me to smell like a cupcake afterwards. I've got my own unique scent. "

"Oh definitely. You would smell more like a pie. "

He chuckled at your response, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I'd smell damn delicious. "

You chuckled and rolled your eyes at his teasing before you both fall into a comfortable silence. The hum of the refrigerator make you slowly hum along. Before you knew it you were humming 'Can't help falling in love' by Elvis Presley and Dean immediately a recognises it.

His heart skipped a beat as he looked up, his gaze immediately locking onto yours. He tried to keep his cool, but he couldn't help the way his heart thundered in his chest. "Elvis, huh?" he said casually, trying to keep his voice steady. "You know I love this song."

"I didn't even realise I was humming it. " you say shyly before getting an idea. "Stand up. "

His eyebrows raised in surprise at your sudden command. "Stand up? " he asked with a hint of amusement, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips but he obediently stood up, curious to see what you had in mind.

Taking the beer from his hand and setting it on the table you grab both his hands in yours. "We're going to dance. " you say, grinning up at him. You place one of his hands on your waist and intertwine your other hands.

"Dance? Me?" he teased, his voice filled with disbelief but as your slender fingers intertwined with his own, and he felt the warmth of your waist beneath his palm he agreed. "You know I can't dance," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "I'll probably step on your feet."

"Then you'll just have to trust that I'm a enough good dancer for the both of us or that I'm way worse than you. " you giggle taking a step back and Dean follows.

The movements were slow at first so they both of you get the hang of it. Dean lets out a quiet chuckle but concentrates on not stepping on your feat. Soon you get comfortable and dance around the kitchen slowly to non-existant music.

Dean followed your lead, his movements still a little clumsy at first but slowly, as you swayed together, his steps became more confident.

He could feel your body moving in sync with his, the warmth of your skin sending a thrill through him. He tried to keep his focus on not stepping on your feet, but the feel of you in his arms made it difficult to concentrate.

"You're a good enough dancer for the both of us, it seems," he murmured, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

"I supposed so. " you allow your head to rest on his shoulder, Dean places a gentle kiss atop your head before resting his own head on yours.

He held you tighter as you continued to sway together. It almost felt natural, dancing with you like this. A sense of peace washed over him, something he hadn't felt in a long while.

"Wise men say, only fools rush in... " you begin to sing and Dean follows along in his own unique and husky voice.

"But I can't help falling in love with you," he continued, his tone low and gravelly.

He pulled you even closer, his calloused hands now gently tracing small circles on your lower back. The sound of your voices intertwined in song filled the air, the lyrics echoing around the quiet kitchen.

That night, you and Dean spent dancing around the kitchen. The chaos of the world silenced for a moment leaving just the two of you alone. The moonlight streamed in like a spotlight for you, the refrigerator hummed giving you music. Your voice and his became one just as your hearts had done.

Every now and then, he would place a soft kiss on the top of your head, as if to remind himself that this moment was real.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagines #dean x reader #supernatural #spn #castiel #supernatural imagine #supernatural x reader #sam winchester #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #misha collins #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester as your boyfriend

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mininiamh · 2 months ago

Text

never again | cs55

pairing: carlos sainz x norris!reader

scenario: dealing with the aftermath of your break up you come to the conclusion that some things just aren't meant to be

warning(s): fluff (we love big bro lando), a whole lot of angst, age gap (reader is 20, carlos is 30)

a/n: okay so I was asked to do a part 2 of this drabble by @ernegren. the public asked, i delivered

MASTERLIST

The white noise inside your head was enough to muffle the world around you, sounding like you were submerged under water. There was something on the TV but what it was you couldn't be sure of, only the fact that is something Lando had chosen. The coffee in your hands had gone cold by now as the only thing in your mind was the last time you saw Carlos on loop.

You felt like an idiot really. Part of you had known that things with Carlos were too good to be true. He had been attentive, caring, always leading his ear when you needed to have a rant about something that had annoyed you to no end. For once you believed you had something pure and beautiful with him, however, everything the two of you had built had begun to fracture and crumble when Lando had told the very things that caused your doubt to spring to the surface.

You didn't know where he had heard it, and, to be fair, you didn't care. Just that one sentence had invaded your thoughts for a week since then. I heard Carlos was in a bet, he had said, rumour is that it involved dating you.

Your heart broke at that moment. It still does when you think about it, but you didn't want to believe him. You brushed your brother to the side and chose the man suspected to only be with you for six months because of a bet. Oh, how stupid you felt now, legs tucked underneath you on his couch with a mug of cold coffee in your hands. You had grovelled and apologised profusely for not believing him, but Lando just ignored your consistent string of apologies and brought you into his apartment.

Lando glanced over at you as the credits rolled. He sighed as he saw the far-off look in your eye, biting the inside of your cheek as your fingers tightened around the mug. “You gonna drink that?”

“Huh?” You blinked before finding Lando's concerned gaze on you. You hated that look. He always gave you the same look whenever something didn't plan out as you had hoped.

“I said ‘you gonna drink that'?” Lando leant forward to grab his own coffee mug from the table. “I'd imagine it's stone cold by now.”

You sat back against the cushions, taking a sip of your coffee as you did before grimacing at the coldness. Lando shook his head before taking the mug from your hands and disappearing into the kitchen. You tipped your head back against and stared up at the ceiling while listening to Lando move about the kitchen with ease. But even focusing on something as simple as breathing couldn't erase the emotional pain.

It was three days after Lando had told you about the alleged bet that the insecurities began to run rampant. The second guessing, the fear of not being enough. You had confronted Carlos about the allegation the day before you walked out, but he had insisted it was just people stirring the pot and trying to cause drama. You should've left then, should've walked out days before and never looked back, but you didn't. Instead, you chose to stick around and now with a confession from the man you loved, you were struggling.

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, drawing your attention back to the present. You had your suspicions who it was from, but you couldn't bring yourself to find out if you were right. Another buzz, another text. Why couldn't he just take a hint already?

“Is that him?” Lando returned with two steaming mugs of coffee and placed them on the coffee table. “I swear to God-”

“Lando, just leave it,” you sighed as you shifted your position to get more comfortable. “Nothing you do or say can change the fact I was nothing but a bet.”

Lando scooted closer to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You lean against him, your body exhausted from the emotional toll of the last few days. You couldn't ask your brother to stop talking with Carlos. It wouldn't be fair as the two were still rather close despite everything. He kissed your temple as the two of you settled on the couch.

“You know, Oscar's got a thing for you.”

“Lando!”

♡☆♡

Mexico was warm. Warmer than what you remember from the last time you visited the country, but Mexico City was one of your favourite cities in the world. Mexican culture was something you could fully embrace from the vibrant colours that adorned the city to the rich food and spices. You loved everything about it.

You stood off to the side while Lando was wrapped up in the media circus of the weekend. Your eyes followed his every move while you waited for the perfect moment for the two of you to slip back in the McLaren hospitality suite, safely tucked away from the media for a short while before Lando was needed again.

He had given you the option of staying in his driver's room so you could avoid crossing paths with Carlos. However, it wouldn't do you any good staying locked away on your own. The media had already caught wind of your break up with Carlos, and you being absent in the paddock after seeing you arrive with your brother would only add fuel to their fire.

Lando glanced in your direction and gave you a reassuring smile, which prompted you to shoot one right back at him. But that piece didn't last for much longer.

“y/n?”

You breathed sharply as your body tensed. You knew it was possible, running into him, but you didn't expect it so soon.

You turned your head to face him, catching his gaze in the light of the warm Mexican sun. He had barely changed, still looked as irresistible as ever, though the dark circles under his eyes told a story of lack of sleep. Part of you felt a twisted sense of satisfaction that he was losing sleep but the other part was concerned; he couldn't afford to lose sleep driving at over 300 kilometres per hour, it's dangerous for him and the other drivers.

The air was thick between you. You didn't know what you were supposed to do. What does one do or say around the man who had ripped out your heart and trampled all over it?

“Carlos,” you sighed. You brushed some hair back behind your ear as you turned your gaze back to Lando. “What do you want?”

Carlos winced at your tone, but then again, he didn't expect anything less. Not after how things ended with you packing your bag and walking out without looking back. “How are you?”

“How do you think I am?” You snapped before whipping around to face him. “How do you think I'm doing after finding out I was a bet amongst friends?”

“I'm sorry, okay, I never meant for things to get that far. I never meant for you to fall in love. Hell, I never meant to care about you as much as I did, as much as I still do.” Carlos ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots in visible distress. “Can we at least talk?”

You let out a bitter laugh at the audacity. “What is there to talk about? You lied, and you lied, and you lied for months, and even when I brought it to your attention, you still had the nerve to tell me it's just people stirring shit up.” You shook your head at the absurdity of it all, wanting more of your time as if he hadn't wasted enough.

“Please, y/n, let's just-”

“No, we're not going to ‘just’ anything.” Your eyes were ablaze as you stared into him as if you were staring into his soul. “I was such a fucking idiot for believing in you, for believing what we had was real.”

“It was real, and I was an idiot. I never should've taken the bet.” Carlos inched forward, his hand hovering beside your face as if waiting for you to pull back. When you didn't move, he cupped your face, his thumb caressing your skin with the same tenderness he always had. “But the more time I spent with you, the more I got to know you, it became harder and harder to tell you and I'm so sorry, amour, I never meant for you to get hurt.”

For a moment, you allowed yourself to fall back into him. You leaned into his touch, savouring the way his skin felt against yours, adoring the way you felt safe again, even for just a brief moment. You always did feel safe around him, even before you got together. He just had the safety aura about him like nothing could harm you when he was around. Oh, if only you knew how it would all come crashing down on a moment's notice.

You swallowed as you glanced up, your eyes glittering with unshed tears, and it was like a punch to his gut all over again. “Did you ever love me?”

“Of course I did, amour,” his tone almost pleading with you as he moved his free hand to cradle the other side of your face and rested his forehead against yours. “I fell in love with how you loved to watch the sunrise every morning, I fell in love with the way your hand fits perfectly in mine; I fell in love with you a little bit more everyday.”

You closed your eyes as you lent further into his touch. His words did ease a small amount of pain in your heart, but it wasn't enough. The damage had already been done, and you didn't know if that could be repaired.

“That's the problem,” you whispered, your eyes opening again and glistening with unshed tears. “You've lied so many times, I don't even know if you're telling the truth. I've been cheated on in the past, and that hurt, but that's nothing compared to this.”

“Cariño, please, don't do this,” Carlos begged as tears of his own began to build. “I'll do whatever it takes, name it, and I'll do it, but please don't walk away.”

“You can make up for it by not making the same mistake with the next girl.” You gently pulled his hands away from your face and held them tightly in your own. You still loved him, of course you did, but you couldn't allow yourself to make the same mistake again. “If you're really sorry for what happened, promise me that the next girl you meet that you'll treat her with the respect and dignity she deserves.”

Carlos let the tear fall as he drew a shaky breath. You reached up and brushed it away with the pad of your thumb, your heart crushed by the weight of everything. He knew in that very moment he had lost you for good. He had messed up beyond belief, and now he was suffering the consequences of his careless actions.

He held your hand against his cheek and kissed your palm as another tear threatened to fall. “Promise me you'll take care of yourself, okay?”

You nodded as you tried to keep in your emotions. “I promise,” you said with a weak smile. You reached up on your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his cheek, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “Goodbye, Carlos.”

You pulled away from him entirely and turned on your heel as you moved on. The heartache had crushed you, a pain you had never thought you'd experience at the hands of Carlos, but sometimes things don't plan out the way people hoped, and this was one of those things.

Lando was stood by the media pen, having wrapped up the interviews not too long ago. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to as he could see the conflicting emotions in your eyes. He just silently pulled you into his arms and tucked your head under his chin.

You'd be okay, you know you would. This was just a hard lesson learnt.

#carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1

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devilfruitwriter · 1 year ago

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falls in love easily {Taz Skylar}

Summary: Life comes at you fast, and often in uncertain ways, at least that's what you find yourself thinking when it's almost five in the morning and you're waiting for the cast of the upcoming Live Action One Piece Netflix show in their makeup trailer, and you realise you might have finally found your people. (And the way you try not to think about how you might genuinely be falling for the actor who you've been joking about being in love with since day one.)

Need to Know: They/Them Reader. Makeup Artist!Reader. Fluff through vignettes. No use of Y/N.

A/N: 3424 words. Unedited and probably a mess but I love him your honor. Now idk if it's good, but I hope you enjoy it. There's mentions of drinking. Let me know what you think, or if you have any prompts for Taz or any of the rest of the cast! <3

Taglist is always open, please comment or message me to be added! xx

Taz has started bringing you coffee, and damn if you don't love him for it.

"Don't let it go to your head; they love everyone," Emily rolls her eyes but her expression is fond. You stick your tongue out at her, still cradling your steaming take away cup with both your hands, looking between them in the makeup trailer they share with you and Emily's makeup artist.

"Yeah but me the most," Taz sits a little higher in his chair, his smug little smile is levelled at his co-star, though you see his gaze flick to you and the grin you're trying to hide behind the rim of your cup, "that's the point of the coffee, isn't it?"

"You have a few other redeeming qualities," you chime in, struggling not to laugh at the whole situation, especially as Taz makes a show of practically preening at your decidedly backhanded praise.

"Told ya," he's outright beaming now, "loves me the most, as they should."

"As I should?" You hear the disbelief in your own voice rise as you lower your cup, crossing your free hand over your chest.

"Obviously," Taz, however, does not seem phased by your indignance, looking at you with wide, bright eyes, like it's the most simple thing in the world, "you're my makeup artist, if you loved one of them more I'd consider that a great betrayal of our bond."

Emily can no longer contain her laughter.

You take a moment to ponder and sip the coffee he'd brought you, mulling over his words.

"I've known Emily longer," you pointed out, though Taz shook his head, managing to keep his composure and keep up with the bit.

"And I've worked with other makeup artists in the past; what matters is the here and now," he says with an almost believable sincerity, "and here and now, I love you the most, and I buy you coffee, and I'm gonna be real sad if you don't say it back." Endeared by his antics, the words tumble from you -

"Of course I love you the mostest -"

"- the mostest! -" he echoes under his breath with a pleased kind of triumph.

"- the mostest? -" Emily, however, has her whole face scrunched up, muttering amid her laughter like she can't quite believe she'd heard you say that.

"Of course I love Taz the mostest -" you doubled down, now outright grinning, "not that it should have to be stated; this is a well established love affair we've got going on here, was that not clear?" Gesturing between yourself and Taz, who's once again looking particularly pleased with the bit, the two of you share an amused look before both turning to Emily in the makeup chair beside you both. She gives you both a thin, amused smile, her laughter having died down.

"Oh it's clear," she smirks at him, "considering that even Kiki won't swap trailers with me -" though there's no real malice behind it.

"You have not asked Kiki to swap with you," Taz rolled his eyes good-naturedly, "you love us."

"And we love you," you assured her, playing up the saccharine quality of your voice once more.

"But not as much as you love each other," she pointed out.

"Obviously," Taz nodded, right as you agreed;

"That goes without saying."

(Later, when you ask him how he takes his coffee, he cracks an eye open where he's relaxing as you're laying his wig for the day, slight smile on his lips, telling you that's not how this works.

Music fills the little trailer in the in-between moments, loud enough that Emily and her own makeup artist can't hear the specifics of your conversation. You give pause, waiting for the spirit gum to dry, echoing his words back to him as a question, amused at his apparent courteousness. He nods, now watching you, as if confused by your question.

"How am I meant to let you know I love you otherwise?" You snickered, playing off the earlier joke. It did the trick, however, as he huffed a quiet laugh of his own. Still, he tells you how he takes his coffee, and you, triumphant, turn to the counter for your next product.

"Or you could just say," he adds after a moment, and you can't help but freeze. You don't even need to be looking at him to hear him grinning - this moment is doing strange things to the affectionate feeling in your chest, but you do your best to ignore it. Turning back, his eyes are closed again, settled back in his seat, waiting as patient as ever.

"That's too easy," you hope he can tell you're smiling too.)

----

"I'm so sorry, love," Taz is leaning against the side of your trailer, cigarette in one hand, and blue, plastic lighter in the other, "my lighter's dead, you don't happen to have one?"

After being called in even earlier than usual to assist with Jeff's Buggy makeup for the shoot today, it takes you a moment to catch up. It takes you a moment, and a yawn, but you reach into one of the side pockets of your backpack.

"Yeah, gimme a sec," you mumble through your yawn.

"Fuckin' love you," Taz mutters gratefully, shoving his own, empty lighter into his back pocket, "I know it's a filthy habit but -"

"I don't judge," you shrug, finally handing over the lighter that had been buried in the bottom of the pocket. Instead of heading in, however, you joined him, leaning against the trailer, tipping your head back to look at the lilac sky as it began to turn gold.

The quiet spark, pop, sizzle of the cigarette isn't an unfamiliar sound given the industry you work in. Taz thanks you quietly as he hands back the lighter, and you give a tired smile in return; you had an energy drink and probably a coffee waiting in your trailer but you would rather take these few moments of peace where you could get them.

"I thought you vaped," you mused after a moment. Taz makes a noncommittal noise as he breathes out a lungful of smoke.

"Left it in the accommodation," he admitted. He offers the cigarette, but you shake your head, "probably smart, like its a bad habit, yeah, but also I don't exactly know where this came from, I found it in the bottom of my bag, it's..." he gives a thin, self deprecating smile, "questionable."

"Sounds like a you-problem, my guy," you tell him, shifting over to lean against his shoulder, closing your eyes for the moment. You hear him laugh and agree, and a comfortable silence stretches out between you.

"It definitely is," he agrees after a moment, "can I ask why you carry a lighter with you if you don't smoke? Not that I'm not grateful -"

"That's why."

"What?"

"In case someone needs a lighter."

"That's sweet, that's very lovely."

"I do try," you hum with a slight smile. After a moment, he wraps an arm around your shoulders, continuing to blow smoke into the wind, away from you.

"You doing alright, love?"

"Always," you sigh, leaning into him in the moment, "I'll be alright, I just need to get some caffeine into me."

"Coffee's waiting for you inside," he told you warmly, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

"Yeah," you mumbled, before admitting, "I like hanging out with you though."

You can't bring yourself to open your eyes and gauge his reaction, but he doesn't let you go.

(He keeps borrowing your lighter. Sometimes it's those early mornings, sometimes it's on set, during the few scenes where Sanji's smoking; before anyone else he'll come to you. You start carrying your lighter in your pocket just in case.

"So you've just given up on having a lighter of your own?" You teased, lighting the herbal cigarette they were using for filming.

"Why would I need one? I've got you," he smirks back, and damn he's just as charming in character as he is out of it. "Thanks, love," he wraps you up in a one-armed hug, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before the cast and crew is called to stand by for the shot.

Taz is the kind of affectionate you could really see yourself getting used to, and he's definitely taken notice.)

----

Between the wig, the makeup, and covering up his tattoos, Taz's spends just over an hour in your makeup chair, depending on how much of Sanji will be seen on any given day.

"Scenes like today might be my favourite," You're working diligently away, already a half hour into your routine and mind on autopilot as you take Taz's hand to keep it still while you added product to your brush. You hadn't even realised you'd said that out loud until he responded.

"Scenes like today?" His voice is gentle but amused; you can hear him smiling but can't bring yourself to meet his gaze, suddenly feeling flustered that you'd voiced that thought at all. "Come on, love, you can't just say that, what d' you mean by that?" And it takes you a moment of deliberation to decide if you want to answer honestly, applying concealer to his tattoos as you feel yourself grow flustered.

"I like all your scenes," you mutter dismissively, "I feel lucky that I get to see so much of the show being filmed." Which isn't a lie, you're on standby on set to touch up makeup throughout the days, and you love the production and what you've seen of the show thus far... but it's also not the whole truth, and you know Taz can tell.

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, and when you look up finally, you can see the way he's smiling, but he's thankfully not looking at you. For a moment, you're glad Emily's not filming until later in the day, her call time not for several hours, so it's just you and Taz, and his playlist to fill the silence. But you make the call to swallow your embarrassment and voice the compliment that had been idling in your mind.

"I like watching you cook on set the most," you say without a hint of hesitation, and he looks to you quickly, almost like he's surprised by your honesty, but you weren't finished, "I know you've really immersed yourself in the role and put in a lot of effort and training; it really shows, especially when you fight and when you cook." There's something in the way he's looking at you that starts to overwhelm you, and you have to break the moment, break eye contact, go back to covering his tattoos or your not sure what you might do. Even your tone shifts, a little flustered, a little awkward, a little jarring after how sure you'd just been, "I, you know, I appreciate you and stuff, but you knew that."

There was a warmth to the silence that followed. When you finally sat back to grab the colour correction pallet, you could see Taz still watching you with genuine affection in his gaze.

"You're very kind," he says softly.

"Nah, it's just true," you huffed an awkward laugh.

"Don't hit me with that 'nah, it's just true' shit," he snorted, shaking his head, "you're being very kind and I appreciate that," he told you with firm honesty, matching the tone you'd addressed him with just moments ago, "lemme cook you dinner some time, 'cos I have been practicing," he agrees with pride, "and I'd take any excuse to show off, 'specially to you."

"Thought we established that I already love you, you don't have to prove anything to me," you ducked your head as you loaded your brush with product, unable to keep the grin from your face.

"Yeah, but this love-bit is a two way street."

"Okay," you said after a pause, finally meeting his gaze once more, and your smile grows wider.

"Okay?" Matching your excited energy, Taz grins widely at you, and you nod.

"Yeah, dinner, eventually," you laughed, "whenever we both are up for it. I'd really like that."

Something is... different now. Something has changed. Taz can't help but mention, as you're securing his wig, that it's going to be hard for him to think of anything but your kind words during filming today. Sheepishly you apologise, but he waves you off quickly - nothing to apologise for, he assured you.

But something is different.

(The silly, little fantasies you've been having on occasion, or more accurately, have been trying to ignore on occasion, have only gotten worse.

And more domestic.

They leave you feeling that kind of giddy-sick and unprofessional, the kind of daydreams that remind you at two in the morning that you should be sleeping and really shouldn't have a crush on your coworker.

Except you can't stop picturing small moments, like a sunlit, mid-morning, music playing on your laptop, the two of you moving around each other to make breakfast together on your day off. Or sharing quiet conversations and laughter while making dinner and -

When you both finally have a night off, he mentions how he's invited some of the other cast members to join you both. You've never been so relieved and disappointed all at once.)

----

Lines and jokes get messy and blurry; late nights on set, Taz almost falling asleep in your makeup chair as you're removing his wig for the day, nights out that both he and Emily invite you to, and a burgeoning friendship with the rest of the cast, and quiet moments spent in the back of Ubers lamenting how early you all have to get up the next day.

Usually you're the first one to bail, considering you're usually getting calling in even earlier than the cast, but some of the more responsible ones, or the other members of crew who have been roped into these various shenanigans, will split the Uber bill with you. The others all seem to understand why you have to leave early, but still, they're sad to see you leave.

What you tell absolutely none of them is that your self restraint is wearing incredibly thin when it comes to Taz already, and you know you're so close to doing something you can't take back.

Because he gets somehow more tactile when you're all out together; his arm around you, kisses your temple, your cheek, elated to see you whenever you meet up again after any amount of time. The way he laughs, the way he just talks to you, making you feel like you're the most important person in the world in the moment he gives you his focus and attention, and your brain gets all giddy and foggy when he calls you 'my love'.

So you need to leave, before you do too much, or say too much... well, too much more.

("My love -" and there it is again, his voice above the music, cutting through the crowd where he's spotted you.

"Yes, my darling Taz," you greet him with a sunny smile and open arms as an invitation to join you. Beside you in the booth, Emily and Inaki are playing slaps, and somehow neither are doing well, but thankfully they're both enjoying themselves.

Taz slides seamlessly into the booth beside you, pressed up to your side. Immediately his focus is stolen by his castmates' various yells and shrieks and slaps, and he half drapes himself across you and the table in front of you to get closer to their game. You don't even really mind, simply enjoying the moment, his proximity, and trying to figure out how long before you should head home. These three have the day off tomorrow, but you've been called in to assist with the hair and makeup for Mihawk.

"You're thinking very hard," Taz muses, as if remembering on whom he was leaning. Giving him a nudge, you grin.

"Just got work tomorrow unfortunately -"

Emily pats you sympathetically on the shoulder, Inaki immediately shouts that she's cheating, his eyes bright and wide. You push Taz back so he's no longer half-leaning over you to instead offer your shoulder to Inaki; he gives a decisive pat and declares he and Emily even, while you lament that you should probably hit the hay.

Emily and Inaki put their game on hold to say goodbye, Emily hugging you tightly and telling you to message when you got back to your accommodation, before they returned their focus to each other, and trying to pick a new game. Taz slides from the booth, giving you room to get out, and walks with you to the door.

"Surely you're not leaving," you grinned, but he's already shaking his head, throwing an arm around your shoulders as you get out onto the street.

"Making sure you make it to your taxi, or Uber, or whatever, okay."

"My hero," you teased, but still pulled out your phone to order your ride back to the hotel. Taz is humming something to himself that you can't quite pick all the while, "should be here in three minutes," you say softly, turning your attention back to him for the moment. The sight of his affectionate, smiling face has something softening in your heart - "you don't need to stay out here, I'll be fine, the bouncer's -"

"I work hard to my top ranking with you," Taz tried to muster up as much seriousness as he could, but it only served to endear you further, "no way I'm letting something happen in these three minutes and you end up liking some fuckin' bouncer more than me."

What you want to say is 'that will never happen'.

What you actually do is kiss him.)

----

It's not nothing.

This thing between you both is something, but you're not quite sure what. Because at first neither of you talk about what happens on those nights out, or how it keeps happening, but it never feels strange when you see each other at work. Still you tease each other endlessly, and there's something about the way he tries not to laugh when you're doing some kind of nonsense bit while doing his makeup, and how you'd fallen asleep against each other when Inaki invited people over to hang out and watch movies together.

Somehow after the wrap party, you, the main cast, and a few other members of the crew all ended up back at your accommodation. Most had left in the wee hours of the morning, but Inaki's passed out on your sofa, and a few of the other makeup artists had decided to squeeze into your bed like sardines, while you and Taz haven't moved from the wicker armchair on your balcony for hours.

The sunrise paints him golden in this moment you never want to end.

He's halfway through telling a story that has you practically wheezing, and you want to tell him that you'll miss him, miss these moments, miss whatever it is the two of you are, that you might actually love him, but instead what comes out is -

"You bastard, you know you've ruined me for other actors," you're beaming from ear to ear, watching the sun rise, and you hear him practically giggling as he leans against you.

"My grand plan has succeeded then."

"Grand plan?"

"Grand plan," he confirmed with a slight nod, "since I met you and you pointed at me," he points out to the horizon for emphasis, "and you said I was going to do great things with this role, even though you'd barely even met me; I've been gone for you ever since," he admitted with a snort of laughter, as if embarrassed by the recollection.

"You what?" You shifted back, eyes wide with surprise, only to be met with Taz's confused smile, like obviously.

"You've been nothing but a support this entire time, how is this a surprise?" He chuckled; seeing how obviously flustered you were becoming, his smile softened to something endeared, "you make yourself very easy to love, you know that, right?"

So much is running through your head at once, a million things you'd like to say, questions you have, what-ifs you could dwell on, but you don't.

"Oh thank god," you breathe, wrapping your arms around him, "I love you too," you're beaming until you're kissing him, this moment golden and absolutely perfect.

----

Taglist: @annssell @deadsnothere @hobbitsnapes @notdaninotfound @uncertainturquoise

#taz skylar imagine #taz skylar x reader #opla cast imagine #opla cast x reader #opla cast #opla x reader #opla imagine #sanji imagine #sanji x reader #writing tag

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thesweetestofdreams · 3 months ago

Text

a date at the pumpkin patch.

pairings: poly!marauders x reader (820 words)

warnings: should be none, just a fall date with the boys

a/n: I couldn't let the idea of walking through a fall fair with the marauders, so please enjoy a seasonal fall treat. P.S. If you so happen to have any requests or ideas I'd love the chance to write some for you

Fall leaves crinkled underfoot as you walked through the dirt path of the pumpkin patch. A local affair of corn mazes and caramel apples that you'd looked forward to all year. "I want to find the biggest one. I mean almost too big to carry," James said, arms spread wide to emphasize his declaration.

"You do realize you'd have to find a way to bring it home, Prongs." Sirius said, hand lazily intertwined with James's as it swung with his movement.

"And all the way up the stairs" you added.

"How about a regular pumpkin, one that won't swallow our entire flat?" Remus tried, ever the voice of wisdom, but James just waved away all of your comments.

"Found it," James said, gesturing to the massive pumpkin sitting in front of the four of you as you turned. It was a part of the pumpkin growing contest and it most certainly wouldn't fit through the doorway to your home.

"If you can pick it up then you can bring it home," Sirius joked. Remus sent him a half serious "no he can't" glare.

"Do you think they'd let me?" James asked, looking around for the owner of the gigantic beast of a pumpkin.

"Surely not," you mused. The mood of the evening had you walking an autumn high. Everything smelled like it was sprinkled with cinnamon through a fresh wind. It bit at your cheeks and chapped your lips, but you didn't care. You were with your boys in an orange wonderland, everything painted gold by the slowly sinking sun.

You slid into James's side, settling next to your living furnace.

"Are you cold, dove?" Remus looked at you scanning you up and down like he was looking for the cold sticking onto you somewhere.

James squeezed you into him. "We can go home if you want," he said, pumpkin forgotten and concern wrinkling his brow.

"No no, the haunted corn maze starts at sundown. Sirius has been looking forward to it all day."

"Don't worry about it doll," Sirius said ready to pack up the car in a moments notice. Your boyfriends with all their love could be a bit overconcerned.

"I'm okay promise. Especially next to James," you said feeling warmer by the second.

"Okay well if you do want to go just say the word," Remus said.

"We won't let her freeze Moony," Sirius said patting a hand to Remus's chest. "I'll show you."

Part of you thought he might come kiss you. He always joked at the heat coming from your cheeks when he did. It stroked his ego too much but you couldn't help it. Instead he guided you all to a small booth. Paper cups full of amber cider sat in lines pouring tiny plooms of steam into the air. Sirius bought three ciders and one hot chocolate for Remus.

"And here I thought you were going to kiss me," you said as he passed you the cup. He halted it in front of you not giving it up.

"And who said this was free hmm." He cocked his head to one side, smug as you smiled.

"Not a fair trade," you said even as you leant in for his waiting kiss.

He pressed cold knuckles to your cheek. "She's fine." You took the cider feeling the hot cup make quick work on your numbing fingers.

James downed his cider far too quickly and denied any accusations of burning his mouth. As you made your way towards the haunted maze he confided to you that he did indeed burn himself. If only there were someone that could kiss it better he whispered into your ear.

The sun set and James and Sirius went into the haunted maze.

You and Remus sat together on a bench nestled against the fiery gold treeline. "You would tell us if you wanted to go home right?" Remus asked, rolling his hot chocolate cup in his hands.

"Of course Rem," you said. It was true. "But why would I want to go home? This feels like a dream." You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling like you were exactly where you needed to be.

"A good dream." He nodded, you felt it ruffle your hair.

Sirius and James would soon come and join you insisting it was too cold to stay any longer. The two would deny it later, claiming the maze wasn't at all scary enough, but you swore you heard them scream a few times.

The four of you went home with three small pumpkins and one James-approved larger pumpkin. The rest of the night was spent with warm blankets and old movies you'd all seen a hundred times over. You fell asleep lazily untangling the knots in Sirius's hair.

#poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders #marauders x reader #james potter #james potter x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #marauders #x reader #marauders era #the marauders #dead gay wizards from the 70s #marauders fluff

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gatorbites-imagines · 1 year ago

Note

If you're interested I'd like to request some ftm Mihawk X service top Male reader, like goddam I really wanna worship this man and eat him out/mark him 😭

Ftm Dracule Mihawk x male reader

Headcanons

I love Mihawk, hes one of the few one piece characters I can look at and think “he definitely smells good”. I was listening to dark academia when writing this, since I felt it fit Mihawk.

Mixed terminology for Mihawks bits, like usual.

Mihawk carries a lot of stress in his day-to-day life, I mean, how couldn’t be. He doesn’t show it, at least not to those who don’t know him. But as his partner, you can spot it immediately when he’s more tense than usual.

There is nothing you love more than to make Mihawk feel good, which results in many people thinking you are some kind of lovesick fool. (for some reason I imagine Gomez and Morticia Addams in this dynamic)

Many thing Mihawk is cold, aloof and emotionless, that he doesn’t return your strong emotional acts, but you know he has his own ways to show his love. Like the way he lets you take care of him and puts down his defenses around you, in the way he caresses your cheek in the morning, or how he brings you small trinkets from his travels.

You cant help but yearn to make Mihawk feel as good as you possibly can, especially on days where he clearly needs to let off some steam.

It starts with a bath of the highest quality, with Mihawks favorite scents and soaps, where you’ll even go as far as wash his hair and beard for him, massaging at his tense shoulders and arms.

Massages has become one of the easiest ways to make Mihawk unwind, as he only lets you do it, so his body immediately knows its safe and that he doesn’t need to be on guard when you massage him.

He does grumble and give you a half-hearted glare when you start nipping and sucking hickeys on his neck and arms, calling you a possessive bastard, especially when you keep leaving hickeys where everyone can see as he goes around shirtless.

In the earlier period of your relationship, he would never allow it, but nowadays he lets you pick him up out of the bathtub, dry him off, even lets you rub his favorite lotion into his skin.

If you end up sliding to your knees between his thighs when he’s sitting on the counter, who but you two would know. Mihawk has never been much of a moaner or for making noise in general, but you can always see that your loving and caring touches lights a fire in him, as he’s always wet on your fingers when you rub them through his folds.

He leans back against the mirror as you lick and suck at his cock and folds, experience guiding you in the best ways to make his thighs quiver and breath stutter.

Only after hes cum will you pull back, wiping your mouth and picking your swordsman back up, moving him into the bedroom and laying him down on the silky sheets that cover the huge bed you guys share.

As much as Mihawk wants to keep going from where you left off in the bathroom, you just spread him out and go off to grab the massage oil, rolling him onto his front so you can start actually working into his back.

Mihawk always feels your erection pressing against the small of his back as you knead at his tight muscles, something inside him feeling hot and gooey at the knowledge that you are so aroused, but you always want to take care of him more.

You take the chance to leave more bites and hickeys as you work down his back and to his legs, spreading his thighs apart so you can rub at them too. Of course, you take the chance to lift his hips a bit and lick through his folds again, causing Mihawk to gasp into the sheets.

The fact that you are the only person to see Mihawk Dracule like this, splayed out across the sheets and so relaxed, muscles lax and hips rolling lazily back against your tongue, almost has you bursting right then and there.

As you keep eating him out, you rub down as much of his legs as you can, pulling away from his cunt with a string of fluids connecting your tongue and his heat so you can scoot down and rub down his feet too, much to Mihawks annoyance.

Rolling him onto his back, you do the same to his front, making sure to kiss at his top surgery scars and leave bites down his stomach, before sucking his cock between your legs as you hike on of his legs over your shoulder.

Mihawk is a vision as he basks in pleasure, arms tucked under his head and eyes half lidded as they look down at you. He looks soft and pliable, but somehow still so powerful, even as he lets you pretty much worship him with your hands and mouth.

Its only after he mumbles for you to get on with it that you slide fingers into him, crooking them just the way he likes as you roll his cock in lazy circles with your tongue, the flat side of your tongue rubbing the bundle of nerves enough to send a tingling feeling up his spin.

As you open him up, you make sure to mumble compliments, about how strong he is, how much you love him and his body, how much you think about him and crave him whenever he is away.

All this praise and touching culminates in a second orgasm, starting slowly in his stomach and warming over time, as you of so lazily draw it out of him, your movements and actions having no rush even as he gasps, thighs clamping down on either side of your head.

As he calms down from the orgasm, you move away from his crotch to press kisses against his lower stomach instead, rubbing a loving hand up and down his thigh so as to not overstimulate him.

At some point Mihawk grabs onto your hair and pulls at it, pulling you up on top of him instead, hooking his legs around your hips as he stares at you intensely. Theres no need for words to express what he wants, especially as his pupils are bigger than normal, and there’s a flush to his cheeks.

Your pants and boxers are easily kicked off to the floor, and after slipping on a condom, you carefully push inside his slit, all the prep and work to make him relax easing the way, making it easy for you to bottom out.

What you two experience is more like the act of making love, compared to fucking. Hips rolling in slow loose thrusts, lips pressing together in an open-mouthed kiss as you breathe one another in as hands explore and grab at whatever flesh they can find.

There is no hurry, like there has been no hurry the entire night, its all about making Mihawk feel good in your eyes, your own need for orgasm completely leaving your mind, or maybe having never even been present in the first place.

The third orgasm Mihawk experiences has his eyes clenching shut, mouth dropping open into a beautiful O shape, as soundless moans tremble out of him, cunt gripping tighter onto your shaft as he shudders through it.

His toes curl and fingers dig into your back, Mihawk almost forgetting to breathe until you remind him, making him gasp. You almost want to pull out, since your own end means nothing, but Mihawks legs stay locked around your hips, rocking you in and out of him.

Your orgasm leaves your vision going black for a second or two, the feeling washing through you like a wave as you grunt and cling closer to your lover, filling the latex wrapped around your shaft with a moan, mixed with yet another mumble of praise for the man you love.

You two stay pressed up against each other for a while, just basking in the others presence, until it starts to get uncomfortable.

Pulling out, you discard of the soiled condom, and go about cleaning up, getting new sheets on the bed, and wiping your lover down as he lays lax and half asleep, though Mihawk is never fully asleep until you crawl back into bed with him.

Its only times like this that he gets to completely relax, falling asleep against your side as you caress his hair and rub his back. Its some of the best sleep Mihawk ever gets, knowing that you are there to love him and care for him. The multiple orgasms also help with putting him to sleep.

Its only after Mihawk is completely asleep that you close your eyes. You never go fully to sleep, keeping some of your consciousness alert, just in case you’ll end up needing it. Its mainly to allow Mihawk to get the deep sleep he needs, without having to worry about keeping his guards up himself. And you’ll do anything for your partner.

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hoseoksluna · 7 months ago

Text

VAPOR, pt III. | jjk ft. myg

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x steam!oc

genre: smut

word count: 9.9k

summary: the naughtiest of times bring about the greatest of healing.

pinterest board: vapor

warnings: punishment, spanking, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), a little bit of ass play, cum eating, raw sex, multiple orgasms, sex toy included, praise kink, jk smokes:), jk also reveals a past pain:(

note: nawt my best work, but i guess it's alright:( here it is, my loves—the very end to the steam series. i enjoyed indulging myself in this world and i'd like to thank all of you for allowing me to do that. thank you so much for all the love and support. i do all of this for you:) wink wink. this is pure smut and nothing else, and i hope you like this at least a little bit. i love you all so much, pwease give me your feedback, thank you. <3

Jungkook thought brushing his teeth with you in the morning while you wore his boxers and stole one of his white, ribbed tank tops was heaven enough. That was until he couldn’t lay his sleepy gaze off of you when you sat on his balcony with a cigarette between your two fingers and a cup of strong coffee in the other two and your thumb.

Still can’t.

He’s never been a morning person. To him, all mornings resembled some kind of hell that you suffer through until afternoon rolls around until you finally awaken. But seeing you like this, delighted, with two of your pleasures… he might become an early bird. Wake up each morning with joy just to see yours. Just to watch you be at complete peace, puffing out the smoke out into the sun-breathed air.

The weather is a stark contrast to yesterday’s funeral of clouds. Not one is in sight, sun rays envelop the heavens in a golden light that spills through your hair—half done in a messy knot of some sort at the back of your head while wisps of shorter strands frame your face and your neck. He’s given you his spirally hair tie that he wore in his pre-military days. Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he told you how long he let his hair grow because he knew shaving his head was inevitable and it served as some kind of strange preparation for him. You brushed your fingers through his hair, then, unbelief painting your face in cutesy colors. As if you tried to feel the long-gone memory of his long tufts of hair that curled at the ends. He was so touched by it—maybe it’s one of the reasons why he can’t stop looking at you now.

It’s dawning on him that you love him. That you’re his. It wasn’t a dream, after all.

And you’re such a stark image of effortless beauty—even with your puffy eyelids and mouth, with your healthily flushed cheeks. How can he not look at you… he fears if he does, you’ll disappear into the thin air. He can’t afford that, not when he went through so much pain to get to this point.

This is his reality now. It’s difficult to get used to. He’d never thought he’d get this lucky. Perhaps, heaven does care about him, wants to see him after all, because it blessed him with you, blessed him with freedom that he can indulge in hand in hand with you.

Jungkook feels an inkling to find a church and kneel at the altar. Thank God for what he’s done for him. Call his dad and tell him that he found Him.

The thought of how happy he’d be fills him with vigor redolent of the last of the summer creeping in. There’s so much of it that Jungkook finds it hard to breathe, his lungs taut with all this joy and love that he feels.

It seems as though this time he will, in fact, live his life happily. Get rid of his alcoholic habits, drink from the fountain of you instead—make that a brand new habit. Keep his paints. Keep the memory of your features and your sleep-tousled hair engraved deeply in his brain so he can transfer it onto his sketchbook. Eternalize you for generations to come. Clutch those papers tight to his chest when God does take him to heaven once his time comes.

Happiness. How did he deserve such a thing?

He sighs, watches you suck the last of your cigarette. The sunlight radiates you with a glow too grand for his eyes to take in and as you breathe out the swirls of smoke, he has to look elsewhere. Your full breasts pebble against his tank top, too stretched out for your small form, and it douses him with liquid tendrils of desire for you. All due to the fact you’re wearing his clothes, that you’re bare underneath them, that your nakedness brought about so much pleasure for him last night—due to the very memory that you didn’t wear your underwear for him because they would get in his way. Fuck, his cock tightens under his joggers, the ones that match those you wore to bed. He hasn’t eaten yet and he thinks you’re the perfect choice of breakfast for the day.

You put out your cigarette in the ashtray he found for you in the cabinet, left behind by the tenants that lived here before him, and a soft smile curls your slumber-kissed mouth. Your irises flick across the width of his chest, across his crossed forearms and biceps and your smile deepens. You cradle your cup of coffee in both of your hands, slouching in your chair. He’ll never tire of the way it feels to be looked at by you. The tendrils of desire thicken in him, flowing rapidly in his bloodstream.

“What do you wanna eat for breakfast?” you ask, and there’s something dangerous about your eyes now, mingling with the light and joy, dimming it little by little. He likes it so much, likes your question all the more, that he props his elbows on his knees and hooks his fingers around the back of yours, thumbs fondling the round bones.

The way his boxers don’t even cover the apex of your thighs, having ridden up so high—he stifles the hiss rising in his throat. They suit you so much he might let you keep them. That is, after he ruins them.

“You,” he murmurs, smirking, and you grin at him so luminously that the speed of his bloodstream slows down. Suddenly, the movement of your hand as you set your cup down is in slow motion—your fingernails provoking him by lightly scratching down his forearms, too. You study his tattoos as you do it, your gaze darkening fully.

You root them at the place, where he’s holding you. Palms flat against the back of his hands. Lean closer to him until you nudge your nose against his. The close proximity will always mess him up, no matter what. He feels himself bespangled by your light, by your celestiality, bringing in the heat until it’s all he knows.

You.

“What if I want to eat you first?” you whisper, head angling to kiss him on his jawline. Oh, he’s already done for; body charged with electricity all over. Your mouth closes over that bone so, so slowly, your tongue licking over that place in the same tempo, causing the hair on his body to stand up to attention.

“Eat what?” He laughs through his nose and you take after him—your giggles a warm rumble that sends tingles down his back, even though all his body longs to do is whimper for you. He knows what you meant, but he simply wants to hear you say it. The memory of the way you rubbed your face in such a private part of him, not just once—but twice, floods his brain and he’s so hard for you that it’s unbearable.

If he doesn’t get his release any time soon, he might combust.

He’d much rather it happens in your mouth. Like it did in the dressing room last night. Oh, fuck. Those winged fuckers are going at it again in his stomach, bringing about his madness for you.

“Your nose first, then your dick.”

It’s now that he lets out that sound—he can’t help it, can’t hold it back. Might need that cigarette of yours, even though he only smokes casually. This is what you do to him.

And you like that sound. You like it so much that you rise to your feet, only to straddle him. And, leaning back, he pushes you towards him until you’re flush against his body. To make you feel how aroused he is for you, your little pussy sitting against his imprint. At the feeling of it through such a thin barrier, you press your hum over his nose, kissing the ball of it with a sweet, soft giggle. His madness evolves into a frustration again and he wonders at the whole concept of it. Now that he has you all to himself, his sexual need for you tends to be on such a raging base, full of yearning, full of frenzy. So intense, so thunderous, so deafening. The world might break apart, fall upon every head with its destruction, if that need remains unfulfilled.

It’s spine-chilling. Absolutely petrifying. And irrevocably thrilling with all its bolts of power.

He kneads your bum with both of his hands, unraveling that melodramatic concept of his titillation for you with the strength he uses to squeeze your flesh with. Jungkook goes as far as to lift you onto your knees, raise the fabric of his boxers to reveal your skin and, holding it taut in his fist, he wetly kisses the red imprint of his hand that he left behind.

And his need flutters with something still yet forbidden.

Yours does, too. And it’s you who voices it out, setting it free like a bird that has been caged for centuries. It touches him, immensely—a deep sea of feelings resurfacing in him, sloshing to and fro, threatening to spill over.

“Spank me.”

Lust and love. A peculiar concoction of it that doesn’t exist in the realm of words. He feels it, feels it with every breath he takes.

“I should, right?” he rasps, dragging his fingernails down your carmine bum, sneaking his fingers around the squishy bottom of the flesh. He might drench his joggers—he didn’t wear his boxers to sleep; you’re wearing them for him. “For wanting to bite my nose off.” He clicks his tongue, squeezing, other hand wraps around your waist, holding you still. “I should spank you until it hurts. Until you cry.”

The most gentle of a moan spouts out of your mouth and he twitches, his need growing—all because you want it as much as he does.

Jungkook lifts his hand in a promise he’s about to do it and you shiver in anticipation.

“Please,” is all you say, but he’s not going to give it to you. He places his hand back in a soft manner, lifting it again to tease you and you wiggle your butt, his boxers still tucked halfway in between, the flesh rippling and he groans. A sight to die for. “I deserve it. Please, do it. I want it.”

He sighs, a wet spot forming in the place of the joggers where his tip is, and he can’t see anything. Can’t see shit when he lifts you up and takes you inside. Can’t see anything but you and the surface of his kitchen island, which he sets you down on, spreading your legs.

Confused by the swift motion, you rise to your elbows, but he pushes you right back down—holding your hips in the air, just like he did last night. You will see what he’s about to do to you, nonetheless. No need for you to strain your arms.

And when he closes his mouth over your clothed pussy, you roll your eyes back, moaning his name so loudly that it echoes throughout the kitchen, rooting around his dripping length. And his arousal for you is so overwhelming, so sensitive that one thrust of his hips against the fabric of his joggers brings him such pleasure coursing through his body that he might as well come like this.

Jungkook rids you of his boxers in a blink of an eye, throwing them somewhere out of his sight. No need for them, either.

Burying his nose in your clit as he licks your slit and plunges his tongue inside, he narrows his eyes at you as yet another wave of pleasure comes down upon him. This time from having you for breakfast, at last. You mewl so sweetly that it drives him to thrust his hips again and he groans, groans so deeply for you. Needs you to know what you’re doing to him.

“You’re gonna be the death of me one day,” he breathes out, lightly dragging the tip of his tongue across your clit before he swallows, hissing at the delight of your taste. You moan, trembling, barely able to take it. Fuck one day, he’s about to die now. “And you’re gonna make me come in my pants like a fucking boy. Is that what you want?”

Jungkook flicks your bud, fleetingly, just to make your sounds shudder in the sudden intensity. You clench your small fists in the air, your tremor so terribly visible and rigorous, and with your breath hitching in your throat, he sucks that delicious part of you into his mouth.

You stammer, badly enough that he begins to feel a sliver of pity for you, not enough for him to stop. He’s ravaging your little princess parts so hard that it takes a few tries for you to get the words out in a steady flow and he doesn’t help you. Doesn’t ease up for you, at all. Flicking, sucking, licking you up all over, rolling his tongue—he simply doesn’t stop, does it so fast that you lose yourself in it, submitting to it with all your being.

And along with your submission come out your words.

In perfect fashion.

“No, I want to suck you off.”

And along with those your orgasm, too.

Jungkook watches you take it, eyes lidded heavily, take all the pleasure he gives to you as it unfolds throughout your quivering body that he holds tightly in his grasp so you wouldn’t fall over. He sucks your clit until his mouth goes numb, opening it to drink you, not letting a drop of your nectar go to waste. You struggle to reciprocate the eye contact and he finds it so endearing that he wants to make you come all over again.

Setting you down, he caresses your wet little pussy with his thumb, palm spread wide across his tank top clothing your tummy. And while you try to catch your breath, he sends rays of his affection down to her the more he looks at her. He loves her so much that he bends down and kisses her. Over and over. Kisses the hickey he left on your left fold, the one below your hip bone as well. And then, he glances at you. Flushed and glowing, a personification of light. A girl most satisfied. So beautiful.

You sit up and the feeling of the coldness of the marble against your sensitive seashell makes you let out a whine, biting your lip briefly before you enclose it around his. You moan into the kiss and Jungkook knows why. He deepens it, hands drifting down your full breasts, your stiffened nipples. The touch makes you hum and grind your pussy against the island, opening your mouth. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside, playing with you, beckoning out your mouth-watering little whines. And when his fingers reach the hem of his tank top, he takes it off of you—your breasts bouncing, the wet spot in his joggers enlarging.

In this position, you’re forehead to forehead. And this time, he doesn’t want to kiss you. No, he wants to talk.

“You taste good, don’t you?” Jungkook husks, an allusion to the way you moaned into the kiss, fists on either side of your outstretched thighs. You bite your lip and furrow your brows, a hand sneaking around his neck. Such horny expression, scraping his madness raw. He’s greedy for more; wants to bleed for you. “Tell me. Tell me how good you taste.”

You sink your teeth so hard into your bottom lip at his words that you whimper once you let go, the pillow so reddened, so cute. The wrinkle between your brows deepens and you grind your hips again. Oh, he’ll put his hand there, on your still needy pussy, as soon as you answer him.

And you do—and his whole bloodstream lines with a river of flames.

“I taste so good,” you whine and he rewards you for your goodness, for that heat. Places his fingers flat underneath your clit, palm up. You immediately roll your hips forward and whisk your eyes back. That sensitive you are, after such an intense orgasm. He swears. Takes it as a sign to rub your bud and, pushing them back with one hand, he gathers your slick and smears it upon it, making it all the more pleasurable for you. Gusts of breaths emit out of your mouth, intertwining with the squeaky sounds of your juices and Jungkook almost drools, aching to eat you out all over again. The feeling of your parted lips, your slipperiness, the softness of your swollen bud—he grows desperate for it.

But he wants you to come like this, too.

“Ride my fingers,” he whispers, just for you to hear and not the angels surrounding him, whose favor he gained. “Come on. Grind your pussy on them, sweetheart.”

You mewl and you listen, straightening your spine. Use his shoulders for stability as you swing your hips back and forth. The silkiness of your flesh, the wetness that makes this a smooth ride for you—he moans, sucking in his breath each time. And then you become so terribly whiny, eyes squeezed tight, that he can’t help but to strum your clit as fast as he can. Your shudders begin again, your breasts rippling and he just thinks they’re asking for his tongue.

A flick of the muscle on your nipple. You cry out, arching your back, halting the movement of your pelvis and he takes over. Takes merely a minute to make you come all over his hand and scream out his name.

And then… then he grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you in—almost nose to nose. A gesture to make you listen. To make you pay attention to the words he wants to say to you.

“This is what you deserve,” he purrs, speaking of the former mention of punishment, studying the way your eyes grow bigger than they already are. “To come again and again for me—and what’s more, I’m not finished with you yet. That wasn’t your last orgasm.”

You mewl and it seems that it’s all that you’re capable of uttering, the clitoral orgasm stealing all of your vocabulary.

Or at least he thought so.

“But I want you to spank me,” you say, your voice a satiny softness. “I want it so bad that I’ll do anything for it.”

Jungkook doesn’t know what’s more stimulating—whether the beauty of your strength or the sinfulness of your craving. The flames in him reach higher highs, burning his skin in a way that unfussily forces him to give you what you want; give in to you, surely and wholly.

“Is that so?”

You nod, leaning over and closing your mouth over the side of his neck, sucking the skin, making his eyes roll back. And when you begin to focus on his ear, your fingers sinking in his hair, he truly just might submit to that specific craving of yours, even though he wanted to save it for the cabin.

He might just give you a taste of it now.

It looks like you’re ready for it, but if he finds that your healing is incomplete, he’ll take care of you, undo the wrongness, distract your thoughts and fold your emotions into a cocoon of his love.

Pulling you away from him, he lifts you off the island and bends you over it. You giggle in triumph and the dulcet sound falters once he brushes your hair back and, pressing his length against your bare bum, he reciprocates the same treatment you gave to him. He doesn’t destroy your neck more than he already has—he barely has any space left to scatter it with hickeys and he doesn’t wish to cause you discomfort. No, he mouths your ear and kisses the very unmarked skin beneath it, nibbling it ever so gently.

It’s only when you circle your hips against him that he rips that gentleness away and bites, making you groan out.

“So that’s what my sweetheart wants,” he breathes, hands drifting to the crooks of those hips, right where your thighs begin, cooling the flames he spat onto that sensitive spot of yours. “Pain.”

The collision of his palm against your cheek is what steals your breath and you whimper in elation.

“Oh, fuck yes.”

He does it again, a bit harder this time, just to hear those delectable words, just to make sure you’re comfortable, rubbing your skin to soothe the sting. And when you pinch your nipples and moan, he gets on his fucking knees for you. Such a good girl; a strong angel.

At your ever persisting service. Eternal.

Spreading you apart, he catches your dripping slick with his tongue and pushes it back inside, thumbing your other tiny hole—pulling away momentarily to spit on it, smearing the lubrication there before circling it. Jungkook hears the soft thud of your head slumping against the kitchen island and you take it, take his abuse so well that he rewards you by flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit. Over and over until there’s another thing he hears.

He hears your phone ring.

His stomach drops. He knows full well who’s calling. And you prove his deduction right.

“It’s Yoongi,” you sigh, a bit of vexation evident in your voice, and Jungkook buries his face in your pussy, humming into her, purposefully. “Vi-video calling me yet ah-a-again. Oh, fuck.”

Pleased, he laughs. “Let it ring.” Doesn’t give two shits that he’s calling, but is a little annoyed that he keeps bothering you.

It doesn’t lessen his fire, though.

“But.” He withdraws to let you talk. Doesn’t take his eyes off of the glistening of your flesh. “If I tell him off and if he sees what you’re doing to me, he’ll stop calling me.”

His fire thickens, thrilling tendrils absorbing it. Very well. “Such a smart girl. Go for it, then.” He punctuates his sentence with a curt spank and you jump, rising onto your tippy toes as you curl your back, moans echoing. He caresses your legs all over, mouth latching over your slightly reddened cheek. Thinks it’s a perfect place for another hickey. And as he sucks the supple skin, he sinks a finger inside your heat, your walls welcoming him in.

You answer the phone with a moan. “I’m busy.”

You’ve placed your hand to the edge of the island, so Jungkook has a perfect view of what’s currently happening. You’ve hidden your squished breasts behind your forearm—like you did the first time he’d laid his eyes on you via Yoongi’s phone. How the tables have turned is so mind-boggling to him that it drives him to twirl circles on your other tiny hole, eating your ass with such verve that you can’t contain your sounds, especially not when he begins to caress your sweet little spot with his curling fingers.

Your legs begin to shake.

Yoongi calls you by your name. “What the fuck is this?”

“W-what does it look like?” you retort, grinning, looking back at Jungkook, catching his glance. He sends you rays of his love, eyes crinkling, the tip of his tongue finally penetrating inside. “I’m getting my ass eaten and you’re—” You suck a breath in, trying your hardest to remain calm and not succumb to the pleasure. Jungkook worsens it for you; he syncs his finger and his tongue, fucking you in one fast rhythm in both holes at the same time, and your stammer returns. “You-you’re disturbin’ me, oh fuck.” You pant, heavily, letting go of your phone and scratching your nails down the surface, trying to grab onto something, anything. Jungkook hums, endearingly, and catches both of wrists in his hand at the small of your back. Seeing you bound like this, bound in pleasure mainly, while on the phone with your ex-boyfriend almost makes him come in his fucking pants. “I don’t want to fucking come looking at your face. I’m not on your timeline, stop calling me.”

Oh, Jungkook wouldn’t even let you—and the reason why he intensified your pleasure was to spite your ex-boyfriend. It seems as though it worked because Yoongi remains silent, at loss for words in most probability, and you consider your job done, tugging up your arm.

“Let me hang up,” you whisper to him and Jungkook loosens his fingers for you, the sound of the call ending etching a smirk on his face.

He straightens his form and, turning you around, he pins you against the island, his smirk only widening. The love, the proudness he carries in his heart for you, the freedom that oozes out of his every pore—he uses it to kiss you, tenderly. Fights hard to stifle his grin, to mold his lips into yours, but to no avail. You mirror his expression of joy, looking up at him, both of your wrists back in his hold behind your back.

“You took your spanks so well, enjoyed them,” he murmurs his praise, his other hand clasping around your binding. “Didn’t even think once about the past. And to top it all off, you basically told your ex-boyfriend to fuck off. Moaned your lungs out. I’m in awe,” he continues, his voice dropping an octave lower, meaning every word. “I’m in awe of you. What a good girl you are. The best.”

The glint in your irises bursts and spreads all around, your eyes becoming two lighthouses that gain a new instinct to bring him home, whatever form that might spur into. You blush for him, taken aback by his praise, and your lashes flutter so prettily that he grows weak in the knees. His reactions are constant, never-changing when it comes to you and he finds so much beauty in them, in you that he feels as though it’s golden sand in his fingers and all he longs to do is finish his job like you did. You rouse the inspiration in him—you always have.

And listening to his body, he stumbles back into his former position. On his knees for you, at your ever fucking eternal service. And he makes you come with his fingers stuffed in your heat and his tongue flicking your clit until your knees give out as well and he has to take you then and there. Against the window on the other side, your pleasured body embraced, almost, by the golden aura that spills from the sunlight. And he opens it out, stretches it, with every word that trickles out of his mouth and into yours with every swift stroke. A bunch of rays of ‘You’re mine’, ‘My pretty, tight pussy’ and ‘Good girl, take it all, it’s all yours’ permeate your skin, lighting you up from beneath and when you come around his cock, your light doesn’t fade into his and leave you barren. No, it melts, a conscious, ever-flowing stream, into him and soaks him up. It’s still one singular light, but in two bodies.

And the two loads he filled you up with caused weariness to drop so heftily on you that he bathed you in the tub. Scrubbed you clean. Washed your hair. Made you smell like him. Was extra careful when touching the hickeys he left behind on your body, the other unmarked parts of you handled with similar care.

He didn’t even forget about your candle. Borrowed them your shared light and you kissed him quite sweetly for it.

Even when he dressed you in his clothes. A pair of old baggy jeans that don’t fit him anymore and the same white tank top, a clean one, fragrant with the wholeness of summer he will perpetually connect with you. You pecked him so cutely when he tapped your waist, signaling that you’re all done. He knows it was the deepest thank you that you could’ve ever expressed to him. And he hugged you, hugged you so tight that you merged into him, bunching your wet hair in his fist.

It didn’t dry up until he parked by the cabin. Having curled into winsome waves, he couldn’t stop touching them when he lead you towards the front door and, most peculiarly, it ached when he had to let go in order to unlock the door.

His clinginess to you constringes the longer he spends time in your presence and because you’ve graced him with such freedom, he doesn’t mind. Not one bit. You show no signs of being irritated by it and it causes him to think that, perhaps, when God made you, He put some mechanism in you that needs it. Just like he planted those roots of clinginess in him—for no one else but you to receive, to carry, to take care of.

It’s what he thinks about when he makes you lunch while you smoke on the balcony, having finished with the fresh drinks you made for yourself and him. Elderberry with lemon and ice, with funky, colorful straws once again left behind by the past tenants, ready on the dining table. This time you will actually sit down to eat and Jungkook won’t get kissed on the face by the strong knuckles of his once-close friend.

An emotion stirs within him as he flips the meat on the small indoor grill. Tears prick in his waterline because despite the fact he enjoyed spiting him, he still wonders how he’s handling this. Mourns the loss. Probably will for some time. There’s a certain freshness to it that won’t let go of him.

Those liquid feelings almost dissipate when you wrap your arms around him from behind and kiss his spine. He’s not matching you that much—is wearing the only clean laundry he had. A white oversized tee, a zipper hoodie of the same color with jeans. But he feels the love you press onto his back as if your lips touch his bare skin, singing the two layers through and through.

Jungkook reckons you’re saving him as you’re lingering there with your face buried between his shoulder blades. Saving him from spilling.

“I can’t wait to visit the pond once we’re finished with our food,” you murmur and Jungkook hums in response, placing the rest of the meat onto a plate.

“It’s done, we can eat now,” he croaks out, his voice touched by the residue of his emotions and you rub his belly with your hands. He smiles, fondly, at the gesture. You just keep on saving him.

“Do you think the water is cold?”

Considering the rain that would not leave for days, the water is anything but suitable for swimming. And when he turns around, he meets your mischief, playfully toying with your features. A curled smirk, lifted brows, light flickering in your eyes, reflected in your lashes. He might let you dip your toe in. Just one.

Only because you depict such distinct beauty and he can’t resist it. Can’t resist you, even if he tried his hardest.

“Too cold,” he says, however. Just as playfully. “Freezing.”

Helping him with the plates, you sit down to eat and before you dig in, you thank him once again in the form of a peck. Oh, he might spill, ultimately. In a much different way. Melt into liquid love for you—a putty at your disposal. He’s never come across someone as sweet as you.

“My sweetheart, enjoy your food.”

A sliver of comfortable silence hangs in the air as you finish your food and once he downs the drink you made for him, a different type of hunger itches in his throat.

A hunger for a cigarette.

He watches you as you take his plate and bring it into the kitchen, never forgetting to at least graze one part of your body as you depart away from him, his clinginess a full blown, ceaseless stream and when you come back to him and take his hand, he remains seated. Looks up at you. Is probably giving you a nasty set of puppy eyes, he can’t tell. Doesn’t really care. Interlocks his fingers with yours and brings your knee in between his. Just because.

“You know what I want right now?” he says, stroking the back of your thigh, and you smile down at him all excitedly. “A cigarette.”

You squeal and he didn’t expect such sound to come out of you, such display of joy at such mindless thing. You quiver, taking his other hand and pulling him to his feet. Grab your pack and lighter and drag him out to the balcony.

And with a cigarette of your own hanging from your lips, you sink the butt of the spare one between his, your lighter ready in your hand, flicking it to life. Then, a sudden gust of wind blows your hair in front of your face in a grand, sublime way, the clouds shrouding the sunlight, a layer of grayness dispersing across the atmosphere. Jungkook is mesmerized, completely, strands of your hair tickling your cheeks as you focus on lighting his cigarette, such serious expression coating you.

He almost forgets to suck on the cigarette when you cup the lighter, protecting the flame from the breath of the autumn slinking in. How can someone be so beautiful, so caring? He could’ve lighted up his hunger himself, but no—you wanted to do it.

And because of that, he steals your cigarette and grabs your cheek in one hand, careful not to break it. Taking a delightful drag, he opens your mouth and puffs it inside. Watches you swallow it down, your eyes narrowed in a foreign pleasure, and to reward you, he kisses you deeply. But at the taste of his hunger on your tongue, the kiss grows tempestuous. He devours your mouth, makes it puffy all over again, and something else grows hard in tandem.

Something in his pants.

And the way you kiss him back—he has to physically pull himself away from you in order not to take you right here, in order not to bend you over this railing and bury himself so deeply inside you that all the animals in the forest scurry away at the sound of your squeaks. Much, much different ones.

His body tingles, looking at you panting, longs to kiss you again—bring that notion into reality. It’s not merely you who’s become aroused because one swift glance over your body clad in his clothes reveals that you have, too. Your stiffened nipples protrude through his tank top and he has to hold onto that railing and take a deep drag of his cigarette in order to stick to his composure like his life depends on it.

Perhaps, it truly does.

“You’re so fucking irresistible,” he comments, mirroring your former actions—placing the cigarette between your lips that willingly open for him, lighting it up. “It’s crazy. I can’t spend one minute in your presence without wanting to fuck you brainless. What are you doing to me, huh?”

You blush, but he didn’t mean it as a compliment. Thinks he should change his ways and call you beautiful more often, so you learn what a true compliment is, despite the fact how hard he finds it. His lungs constrict, choking the life out of him that you gave him—an unfond memory clouding his sight.

A blond set of hair swishing past. A roll of eyes as he threw that compliment in her way. The dismissal that still lives in him.

“You sure it’s me?” you retort, angling your head to the side, two fingers widening slightly as you suck on your cigarette. You tossed the memory away and cuddled his headspace. “Maybe you have a problem.”

Oh, he remembers this feistiness of yours. Missed it, dearly. Makes his cock needy. Even more prominently so now—now that you clothed him in healing.

“True, one taste of you and I’ve become a nymphomaniac,” he says with a mighty, peculiar easiness. Clicks his tongue. “I guess I should go to therapy.”

Your blush deepens and you hide your laughter behind your busy palm. Jungkook shakes his head, not believing something like that could flush your face like this with such rosy, radiant color. He pulls you towards himself, squeezes your bum. Takes a drag, loving the burn in his throat.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, fondling the sweet color of your cheek with his thumb. The smoke from his cigarette curls around your wavy hair. “Do you even know how beautiful you are?”

It’s you who shakes your head and you place your palm flat on his chest. A gasp leaves your mouth when he spanks you for your disagreement. Then, your mouth ends tip.

Jungkook laughs, softly. “Run. And if I catch you, I spank you again. On your bare bum this time.”

He pushes you and you squeal, turning on your heel and heading for the stairs down that lead to the pond. He could run after you to make you happy—it doesn’t matter he’s wearing his home slides. He’s danced with them, even barefooted, so this is no big deal for him. But he wants to give you the thrill of the chase, so, flicking his cigarette into the ashtray, right next to yours, he slides his hands into his front pockets and waits until you’re halfway there at the pond. Then, then, he slowly makes his way down.

You’ve stopped, however. Half turned, you watch him as he chases you down Michael Myers style. And when he’s at arms-length distance away from you, you begin to run away and this time your feet acknowledge themselves with the wood of the dock that floats above the surface of the still water. There’s nowhere for you to go and he fears you’ll jump into the water. Or, maybe you just want to get spanked that badly.

He’s about to find out.

Gray shadows envelop you, choking out your squeals again when you see Jungkook running after you and you edge dangerously close to the end, bum leaning against the ladder going down.

He lifts his palm, signaling you to stop right there.

And you surprise him. You kick your feet into momentum and as you run and collide into him, you throw him into the water.

The iciness of the water stings and his breath lodges in his throat, submerged. Paralyzation takes a hold of him, but not enough for his body to emerge to the surface. He rubs his eyes as he inhales deeply, shaking off the water from his hair like a dog, his eyesight slowly unblurring and he sees you laughing. The trees bend at the sound, sighing along and the wind, once again, stills.

You even have the nature wrapped around your finger, not just him. And he can’t be mad at you, not when your girlish giggles spark up a joy in his heaving chest, ridding him of the coldness he feels.

But that doesn’t mean he won’t punish you for it.

You asked for it.

He swims to the dock and pulls himself up. The ease he did it with, his wet clothes that cling to his body and accentuate his muscles, it causes your dulcet laughter to falter, little by little and you back away from him.

That aches a tiny bit. He relaxes his face, in case that’s what drove you to do that and he unzips his hoodie, throwing it at your feet. His T-shirt comes next and you swallow, dryly, your eyes drifting along his pecs and abdominal muscles.

You hiss at the cold sensation of his knuckles against the fine sliver of skin of your stomach, the dip between the hem of his tank and his jeans as he unbuttons them and harshly tugs them down. You let him, placing your hands on his shoulders once he kneels and lifts both of your feet, folding the denim and flinging it onto the pile of his sopping hoodie. Your socks and his boxers follow along, leaving behind only his tank top.

Bunching it in his fist, he tightens his mouth in a narrow line and pulls you in. More to cover you from the cold than to soak you and he raises his palm until it levels with your shoulder blade before he spanks you. The slapping noise vibrates through the canopy of the trees and he likes to think the weeping willow in his peripheral vision trembled at the reverberations.

“That’s for me catching you.”

Another spank. On the other cheek. Just as hard.

“That’s for the way you pushed me into the water.” You don’t make a sound, only tiny little breaths spill out of your mouth as your big eyes ogle his dripping face. Taking it so well that his cock, achefully, hardens even more. “All this fucking forest all around and you decided to get on here, on this dock. Push me in.” A spank. “In the freezing.” Another one. “Fucking water.” Another.

You moan, swaying on your feet and he straightens you, grabs your wrist and wraps it around the nape of his neck.

“And this.” Jungkook licks his fingers, sneaks them between your bodies and finds your clit, rubbing it rapidly. “This is for the way you enjoy it. Enjoy being spanked. Being punished. Enjoy being a bad little sweetheart.”

You moan, a wrinkle between your brows, and your legs begin to quiver, your orgasm fast approaching. And the fire in him, created by your playfulness and his own words, he becomes it. Like you’re the personification of light, he’s the flames that keep it warm. An oxymoron most profound, most perfect, unseen by the world.

He rips your orgasm away. Spanks you. Kneads your ass. You whine so terribly that it beckons his pity. Enough for him to creep his thigh in between yours, grasp your hips and make you ride it.

“You wanted me wet, so get off on it,” he orders, unlatching his hands, taking off the tank top and fisting your hair, trusting you to hump him well enough on your own. “I know you like it cold, so grind that pussy on my thigh. And don’t stop until you come.”

It’s fast, the way you move your hips and bring yourself to the absorption of your climax. You look at him the whole way through and Jungkook nods with his bottom lip between his teeth, encouraging you to ride out the wave.

“Good girl, coming so fast. Get on your knees.”

He takes off his even more drenched pants. You wait for him with an open mouth and he senses the welcoming embrace of death.

When he plunges his length into that salivating hole, it’s his fire that he feeds you. Despite the coldness, pearls of sweat adorn your forehead and Jungkook grips your hair and fucks your mouth, not letting you be in control, uttering his guttural moans lowly.

“That’s what you get, my love.”

You swallow around him in response and his life flashes before his eyes. Pictures of you, pictures of this cabin dressed in all of the seasons and he halts his thrusts. Pushes your head, instead. Back and forth until he can’t fucking take it anymore.

Your spit trickles down onto the wood. Tears line your vision. Hard, shiny cock in your face. He tells you what he thinks of the sight.

“So beautiful. Look at how hard and wet you made it. You deserved every inch down in that pretty throat of yours.”

It’s a start. Still has a demon on his own to conquer, one that sits around somewhere deep in his chest, where a string of his past relationship makes dents in his lungs. One that he doesn’t want to admit he still has. One that he’s learned to forget about.

But he is changing his ways. For you.

You moan and scratch your nails down his thighs, the fire forming into an animal in you. A feral, little thing that knows what it needs. And he’s going to give it to you, mind already working on the forgetting.

“I love your cock. It’s all mine.” You mouth it, glide your puffy lips upon its length and despite the pleasure he gets from it, he pushes you away.

Straddles your hips. Turns you onto your tummy. Knows the personal cock time was too brief for you, but he can’t risk having his orgasm like this.

“Yes, my love, all yours. And I’m gonna fuck that brain out of your head with it.”

You mewl. “Yes, please.”

In contrary to your words, you try to crawl away when he sinks himself inside, your nails making pretty music on the wood. He brings you right back to him. Presses you down flat with his hand on your back. All while still inside of you. You sputter out your moans and, licking his thumb, he circles your other hole, making them grow in volume.

“No, sweetheart. Don’t run from it. You can take it. Believe in yourself the way I believe in you.”

The strokes he gives you are hard, engraving your rose tattoos made of hickeys onto the dock and he realizes that’s exactly what he wants. He desires to have everything he owns smell like you, look like you and carry remnants, memories and keepsakes of you for generations to come. And so he fucks you not only harder, but faster.

Thinks your back is awfully bare and missing the rest of the marks.

Jungkook bites onto the skin above your shoulder blade and you catch him off guard.

“Jungkook, I’m gonna come like this.”

He hums, fondly. How quickly your walls have gotten used to accommodating him. “Not yet, my love.”

Swiveling you, he hooks your knees onto his shoulders, sinking back into you this way—sinking back home.

And it begins to rain.

Jungkook hears the touch of the droplets upon the surface of the pond first before the same ones pelt down his back. And the briskness that affects him, the conjunction of an autumn kissed by the last of summer—it drives him to crush his lips onto yours with such vigor that he hopes the autumn, at the sight of it, will be here to stay, in all its wholeness. No more triggers of the past seasons. Newness, only. Singularity.

He doesn’t carry you away from the rain. No, he hides you with his own body. Takes every hit from the ruthless downpour for every lash across your heart, for every scar etched for all eternity on its flesh. Hands cradling your head, the broadness of his back a cover for the top half of your body and you keep him there with your hands gripping his hair, holding on for dear life. It stimulates him enough to fuck you just as hard, imprinting the lines of the wood onto your back.

Not so bare anymore.

You could never be an empty canvas. Not with him.

Not when you care for him in the midst of the pleasure.

“Jungkook, ah, you’re go-gonna catch a cold.”

He kisses you for it, terribly touched. “But it feels so good.” A languid stroke, the squelching of your pussy; he rolls his eyes back, sucking in a breath. “Come for me and I’ll get you inside.”

He picks up the pace, seizing your pleasure. But then you start moving your hips up and down and he feels you fill up every dent in his heart with each movement, each moan, each squeeze of your walls. And when you make yourself come on his cock, he considers himself strong enough to tell you all about it later.

Carrying you inside while hiding your head from the rain in the crook of his neck, he takes you up to his room and sets you down like the princess you are underneath the ivory canopy above his bed. Senses your irises digging little pursed pecks into his back as he rummages in his dresser, fishing out a pink bottle of lube and a dildo. Smaller than his length, but almost the same as his girth. Skin-like. With balls attached.

He’s smirking as he swivels, joy evident on his face. He’s eager to watch you ride it and your two lighthouses for eyes divulge to him just as how excited you are yourself.

You spread your feet for him once he’s an inch away from you, smiling from ear to ear. “Fuck me with it,” you purr, wrapping your legs around his torso.

Even the most solemn man in the world wouldn’t be able to not grin at this moment. Too bad he wouldn’t let him near you. His heart pounds, aches to say no to you, but he simply wants to watch you ride it.

“No, sweetheart. I want to watch.”

You frown. “But you haven’t cummed yet.”

He caresses your small pout and you kiss his thumb. His smile widens. “That’s okay.” He might be throbbing, but watching you bounce on a silicone dick will bring him a great deal of pleasure, nonetheless.

“Then, touch yourself for me.”

He hums, his heart lodged in his throat. The turning of tables must be in the script to this movie that he considers his life shared with you. And he likes it more than he’s able to comprehend amidst his intense arousal.

“You have to ride it well, then.”

You suck on his thumb momentarily, a smirk quirking your lips. “I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will.”

Pecking you shortly, he squirts a ton of lube on the dildo and all around your princess parts, rubbing your clit to tease you. The gasp you let out causes him to laugh softly in endearment and then…

Then, he leaves you to it.

Sitting back in his rocking chair, he fists his cock, the leftover lube making a squeaky sound on his skin. You get on your knees, line yourself up and Jungkook tugs down his foreskin for you, allowing you to see the drops of his male essence oozing out. It turns you on to the point that you moan and bite your lip, sinking down on the toy and he’s breathless.

“Fuck, it’s not as big as you,” you whine, sitting down on it, fully, maintaining eye contact with him. His heart thuds in harsh staccatos. “I barely feel anything.”

A sly remark about your ex-boyfriend’s length is on the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back. Doesn’t want to ruin the moment. He’s not a constant presence. Not anymore. So why bring him back?

And what’s more, you’re lying. Because when you begin to bounce, tentatively, your eyes whisk back and you pinch your nipples, the squelching sound of your pretty little pussy driving him to fuck his fist just once. He knows if he keeps going, he might miss the whole experience, plagued by the shadow of his pleasure. He palms his balls instead, his cock protruding from the crook between his fingers and his thumb. Still wet from you.

“Harder,” he commands, squeezing his balls when you listen and he hisses, fights with all his strength not to flutter his eyes closed like his body is begging him to. He can’t miss this. It’s too good to miss. He bites down on his lip.

“Jerk off that cock, please,” you plead, your breasts bouncing and he bites down harder, the fire in him burning off his skin. “It doesn’t feel as good when you don’t.”

He swears and begins to move his hand, gliding up and down, pressure hard. “Are you imagining it’s me?”

“Yes, oh my God. I’m riding you and it feels so fucking good, Jungkook.”

He moans, focusing on his sensitive head. Tips his chin up. Doesn’t break the eye contact. “Good girl. You’re doing so well.”

The praise gets to you and your fingers sneak to your clit, rubbing fast little circles—and just like that he nears to the edge. Whimpering for you, he fucks his cock harder. Hot flashes surround your flushed face and you mimic his sounds.

That’s his very fucking undoing.

Getting on his feet, he paints your breasts and tummy white and you begin to shudder, his orgasm coaxing yours. You pinch your little hard nubs—and it’s almost like you’re milking him dry, spurts after spurts making new tattoos on your torso, white roses to mingle with your red and purplish ones.

And his woozy brain can’t help but to look forward to see them fade to yellow.

He kisses you so hard that he doesn’t feel you breathe and when he pulls away, he collects his cum and feeds it to you. Can’t have it go to waste when he knows what he’s planning for you.

“That was so good,” he whispers, sealing such an intimate moment with another ravenous kiss.

He doesn’t let you respond—he pins you back. Ass up, face down. Squirts lube all over that deliciousness and when he glances over at the ruined dildo, he whistles. Pearls after pearls of your girlish essence trickle down the length and he shows it to you. Hard all over again.

“That’s a good fucking girl,” he praises and your eyes widen in that familiar way he likes, mouth parting, blush deepening. “Stick out your tongue.” You listen, so fucking well, and he plunges the silicone tip inside your mouth, circling it around that willing muscle. “That’s it, lick it up, sweetheart.”

You look up at him as you do it, making smacking sounds, so terribly fucked out. Jungkook has to grip your hair in order to hold on to the last of his composure, and when you begin to suck on it—he can’t take it anymore.

He fucks you with it. Fucks you into the mattress. Punishing you for the things you do to him, for the fire that grows hotter and hotter in his veins. And he loves you, dearly, with the entirety of his being, that his fingers cannot physically stay away from your little sopping clit.

Neither can they when you come and gush out your arousal. Neither can they when he switches the dildo with his cock, raises you in the air and fucks you so hard, whispering little praises and sweet little nothings—“I’m getting you used to taking it from behind, my love. You’re doing so good. You’re so beautiful. So damn pretty.”—that you and he both, completely and wholly, fall apart when you come together.

He loves you dearly enough that he can’t stop falling apart even in the shower.

He tells you of the demon living in his chest.

“When we’re together, I feel you healing me. I feel you giving me chances to live on with my life, do the things I’m scared of or wary of. Like today, when you didn’t believe me when I’d told you you were beautiful. I felt that fear I had in me for years, but saying it to you made it seem like nothing. There used to be a girl I was in love with. Whenever I would tell her things like this, she’d scrunch up her nose. It wasn’t enough for her. Her pride was too big for my words. I kept giving and giving and it was never enough. But when I give to you, you take it and you live with it and I can see it on you. I can see you wear it proudly. I can even see it now. And it’s so beautiful. So healing.”

You kissed his scars. Kissed his hands. His neck. Washed him clean. Hugged him under the hot downpour of the shower. Reminded him of the way he healed you. Told him all the small details he never knew—and it only proved his words, tightened his love for you.

He knows from this moment on that you will be the mother of his children. He’s not letting you go. Not until the day he dies.

And the first shower he shared with you�� Jungkook sketched it down that very night as you and him sipped on wine, listening to music. And he brimmed with the longing to bring it onto a canvas. Splatter it with colors. Purples and reds, with tiny hints of yellow that are about to appear on your body.

And he will. Hang it up in this very cabin. The eternal keepsake of the movie that his life has become.

It has been several months of living this cinematic life with you. Weekends spent at the cabin, the weekdays spent separately, save for the regular dates. Dinners, trips, sight-seeing. A slow life filled with brand new art supplies, a pile of sketchbooks adorning the walls of his bedrooms. Both at his own apartment and the cabin. And another adornment has come to live with you and him, one of life-long permanency.

He sealed your exclusive relationship with a matching tattoo.

“Sweet” lines your left rib whereas “Heart” lines his—right above the mole you’ve come to love so much. Red ink, an illusion to your red roses, the dress you’ve worn for him on several occasions. Visiting him out of the blue in the middle of the week with black lingerie underneath and a trench coat to cover you up. Mindlessly at the cabin one weekend when drinking wine, smoking together on the balcony, listening to the whispers of the willow tree. And once on the last warm day of autumn, during which he paid you back for the way you had pushed him into the water of the pond. Just like he’d done the first time, he tossed you in, joining you right after, fucking you in the dress. He had eternalized it that very night, sitting by an easel. Paintings of you, some of both you and him, hang on the walls of the cabin. In the living room, in the bedroom. Everywhere one looks, one finds the scenes of your movie—and it brings him joy unlike any other.

Yoongi… he hadn’t called you since that fateful day. You’d made the arrangements to see him after a month or so. Found out he was seeing a therapist.

Quite literally.

He’s banging his male therapist.

The information enveloped you in a dimmed glow. You were shocked, first and foremost, because you had no idea Yoongi liked men. Jungkook did, so it wasn’t a surprise to him—what was more of a groundbreaking surprise to him was the fact you didn’t know. That he never cared to tell you.

And he never pushed it aside. As a matter of fact, he told him off about it the first time he saw him after everything.

Yoongi cared very little because he considered the chapter finished. A similar light swathed him tautly, one he’d never seen on him, and Jungkook agreed. The chapter is finished. No need to get all hot again.

Yoongi forgave him. Found love. Found healing. But he didn’t maintain his relations with you. Neither did he with Jungkook.

And while it hurt for a little while, Jungkook figured that maybe it was meant to be like this all along.

He and you. A singularity.

The nonexistent gap between the word sweetheart.

No third party.

BACK to masterlist

#jungkook x oc #yoongi smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot #yoongi x oc #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine

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fanaticsnail · 6 months ago

Note

Okay, so I've been slowly working on 'The True Bride' retelling but lately I've been feeling run down and low. Babysitting 3 - THREE! - Duracell batteries (aka kids) leaves me very little brainpower or energy and the days I'm off... I just want to do nothing but rest and be a couch potato. I thought I'd send this little request this way, you know, legal channels and all that.

Could you do something fluffy and sweet (smut can also be added if you'd like!) with either Shanks or Sanji? I'd throw in Law but these two currently are taking all the brain space.

The way I cannot wait for your contribution to the Storyteller Au! It's gonna be so much fun! I feel you on the Duracell babies, my two have been off like a rocket from about 5am (as per the norm). Shanks was not cooperating, so Sanji gets some love this morning. May a little bit of suggestive, sweet domestic fluff ease the burden for you, love.

By Feel

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,300+

Synopsis: You challenge Sanji to demonstrate his impressive knife skills for you by chopping up vegetables while blindfolded. He becomes flustered by the amount of attention you give to him.

Themes: Sanji x gn!reader, established relationship, domestic fluff, flirting, knife skills, kissing, blindfolded Sanji, flustered Sanji, suggestive ending.

As soon as the shroud covered Sanji’s eyes, all other senses were heightened. His nose pricked up with the fragrance of sweetness and spices, his tongue tasted the steam in the air wafting from the pan, his ears heard the rough pops and crackles rising in the pan from the contents being of an elevated temperature.

Most of all, his hands were hypersensitive to every soft ridge and divot in the chopping board in front of him, and his connection to his blade felt more sturdy and intentional in each motion.

“Show me then, Chef,” you tease him, the playful tone in your voice propelling him to prove himself to you. He smirked and impressively twirled the blade in his hands before dropping it in the board. The knife stuck out and wobbled slightly beneath the light as Sanji sought out the carrots and his favored peeler with his fingers.

“Oh, I’ll show you alright,” he picked up one of the carrots in his hands and his peeler, “You watching closely?” Even without the blindfold, you could absolutely see the wink he shot your way beneath the material.

Leaning forward on the bench, but still lingering far enough out of his way to continue, you witnessed him take the peeler with his dominant hand and wave it backwards and forwards along the length of the carrot. Each moment the blade end of the peeler almost reached his palm, he instinctively knew when to draw it away. Rotating the carrot within his fingers, he continued to drag it back and forward until he felt the flesh of the carrot glisten its dewy juices in his hand.

“Still watching?” he teased at you, his fingers hastily collecting all of the lengthy offcuts of the bitter skin and sliding it into the scrap bin beside the sink. You rolled your eyes before giving him a soft, “Uh huh,” in response. He smiled, shaking his head and collected his blade from beside him: still in the place where he left it.

“Alright then,” he scoffed, his light chuckle found in his tone, “Doubting me?” You shook your head at him, more to scold than to doubt him.

“No doubts, Chef,” you slowly walk behind him, Sanji’s ears picking up and hearing the soft taps of your shoes on the wooden surface behind him. “Never doubted you to begin with.” As you slowly approach behind him, your hands reach out to collect his hips in your hands. He hissed a soft breath through his teeth and threw his head back as your hands caressed his skin.

“You gonna let me show you what I can do?” he gasped, his breathing heavy as your hands teased at the waistband of his pants, “Or are you going to distract me on purpose?” You hum a soft chuckle through your lips before placing a soft kiss on his spine. He moaned at the softest touch, the deep rasp in his throat coming out with his breath hitching.

“I won’t distract you. I just wanted to take a closer look,” you admit, looking down his arms from your position over his shoulder. He gulped his nerves, instinctively leaning his head away from your face in the hopes for more brushes of your lips on his skin. You laugh tight-lipped through your nose at him before tapping his hips to draw his attention back to the task.

“Okay,” he uttered snarkily, twirling the blade and seeking out the carrot once more. Lining it up with the tip, he exhaled a huff of breath before immediately rocking his arm back and forward, slicing the carrot first into a long, rectangular shape. The ‘shinkt,’ sound of the blade colliding with crisp flesh at a hastened pace had you arch your brow, still watching intently as he expertly placed hasty ridges into the carrot.

Turning the orange object, he began slicing the vegetable at a different angle. The diagonal cuts never tapped the board, holding it a whisker’s length away from the base of the carrot. As soon as he reached the tip once more, he turned in your arms with the rectangular carrot in his hands. Your hands never left his hips, holding him steady as he gave you a cocky smirk.

“Watching closely?” he whispered to you. You hum in confirmation at him as you look at the orange figure in your hands. Drawing apart his hands, the length of the carrot extended into a lace pattern. The carrot was still intact, but the knife skills demonstrated by the blonde created a webbed net from the vegetable as he held his arms out to the side.

His grin only broadened when he heard your gasp, your hands gripping his waist tighter in awe caused a rosy blush to rise in his cheeks. With the blindfold still fixed over his eyes, he lowered his hands with the vegetable reforming into a rectangle.

“Something you wanna say to me?” his brow arched up under the shroud of the mask. You lean up on the tips of your toes and brush your nose with his. He gasps at you, fluttering his eyelashes beneath the woven material.

“You are the best chef in the world, and can even craft mastery blindfolded,” you dull your tone, mocking his voice with a smile on your lips. He scoffs at you, moving his head away from yours and purses his lips up in a light pout. You giggle, reaching up to cup his cheek and turn his head back to face you.

“You don’t have to make petulant bets to prove anything to me. I already think you’re amazing, Sanji,” you press your lips to his unoccupied cheek, your sweetness igniting a swell of heat pooling in his face and almost burning your lips with the intensity. Giggling against his cheek, you pulled away to witness him freeze in place with his lips parted.

No matter how long the two of you had been together, it never ceased to make you smile with the amount of fluster you could bring to your partner. A simple touch, a soft caress, a gentle compliment all had that soft hue rise to his face, and you couldn't get enough of it.

“Th-Thank you,” he stuttered, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed back his nerves. You decide to press him further, enjoying his light fluster.

“C’mon, pretty boy,” you praise up at him, hovering your lips over his and tasting the warmth of his sweet air, “Show me what else you can do just by feel, hm?” He immediately whimpered, placing the carrot down behind him as he hastily reached for you and surged his lips forwards to engulf your own in them.

His kiss was raw, intense and desperate. Lips mouthing and swirling against your own, hungry to consume all you had to offer him in the kitchen space of the Going Merry. The shroud over his eyes had him feel everything: the taste of your lips, the scent of your perfume, the sound of your soft moan, and the feel of your eager reciprocation. He simply couldn't get enough.

Reaching up, he carded his fingers over the back of your scalp and cradled your neck to deepen the intensity. Each press of his lips, swirl of his tongue, and whimper you collected from his mouth within yours had you smile and balance his expression. The flicker of his tongue brushing against yours had the softest taste of metal lingering from his frenulum piercing. The balled circlet brushed against you as he performed his sensual isolation, consuming you entirely.

Pulling away and panting briefly, he finally removed the blindfold to take you in. His eyes were glazed and glassy, lips bruised and swollen, and cheeks dusted with the frosting of a bright pink. Gently caressing your cheek with his palm and fingertips,he leaned forward to press his forehead against yours.

“Satisfied?” he chirped breathily at you. You chuckled back up at him, nuzzling against his forehead before pulling away to gaze into his eyes.

“Hardly,” you smiled, “But there’s a remedy for that. Your quarters or mine?” He replaced his forehead with his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your skin while muttering his suggestion.

“Yours.”

“Perfect,” you quipped at him, reaching down and taking him by the hand, “Bring the blindfold, but finish what you're cooking in the pan first before it burns.”

"Yes, boss," he uttered snarkily, quickly turning to finish off searing the vegetables and placing it in a pot to simmer low and slow with a variety of meat. His anticipation only grew when he heard every slow and deliberate step taken towards the door.

Hastily completing his duty, he rushed to your side and eagerly followed you like a needy pup towards your quarters, where he showed you exactly what he could do by feel alone.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady

#sanji x reader #one piece #x reader #gn!reader #one piece fluff #black leg sanji #sanji #sanji x you #ask snail #snail answers #one piece x reader #one piece sanji #op sanji

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storiesforallfandoms · 1 year ago

Text

santa's sister in law ~ bernard the elf;the santa clause

word count: 4292

request?: no

description: in which he is adamantly against the in laws coming to the north pole, until he meets santa's sister in law

pairing: bernard the elf x female!human!reader

warnings: christmas fluff, sylvia sucking a little bit but that's just canon

masterlist (one, two, three)

Merry Christmas everyone! 🎄

a special christmas gift for @omeletdreamer 😌

Bernard was firmly against Carol's family coming to the North Pole. He liked Carol, don't get him wrong. She was a fantastic Mrs. Claus, and he loved her idea to start an elf school at the Pole. He understood that it was hard to adjust to life at the Pole, especially while she was pregnant. But bringing outsiders there was a big no-no. They were already pushing things by letting Laura, Neil, and Lucy in on the secret of Santa.

But all of his protests fell on deaf ears. Santa wanted Carol to have her family while he was going to be busy, and the other elves just wanted Carol to be happy. It was a thousand against one. So, Santa got into his sleigh and flew to get Carol's parents while the elves fixed up the Pole to look like Canada.

"This is never going to work," Bernard said to Curtis. "There's no way they're going to think this is Canada. Even if they believe these ridiculous store signs, they'll never believe Canada is inhabited by a bunch of children."

"Can you not be so negative for once?" Curtis asked. "It'll be fine."

"We are seriously pushing it with how many people know about the Pole and Santa. You can't blame me for being stressed out over it."

"Everything will be fine, Bernard. We have a plan. We got this."

Bernard huffed a sigh and walked away. He was tired of being brushed off like this. He didn't become head elf for nothing. He knew what he was doing. If only someone would just listen to him.

As he was walking away, he heard something in the distance. He looked up to see Santa's sleigh breaching through the entrance to the Pole. He couldn't see them yet, but he imagined Carol's parents in there, asleep from Sandman's magic, expecting to wake up in "Canada". He cringed to himself. There's really no going back now.

"I need a hot cocoa," he muttered to himself.

The kitchen elves were busy baking away when Bernard walked in. Carol had told them her mom's favorite cookies so they were hard at work making a batch to welcome Mrs. Newman. They were wearing comically large chef's hats pulled down to cover their pointy ears, which made Bernard glad his hair was long enough to do that naturally.

"Hi Bernard," Abby said, giving him a bright smile upon noticing him. "Want a hot cocoa?"

"I'd love one, Abby," he responded, sitting down at one of the tables.

She rushed off to make it for him. He picked up a cookie from a plate in the middle of the table to eat while waiting. Abby returned with his hot cocoa. He blew on it, disturbing the steady steam coming from the drink. He hoped that escaping to the kitchen would give him some time to prepare for Carol's parents.

He was taking his first sip of his hot cocoa when the kitchen doors opened again and in walked Santa, Mrs. Claus and her family in tow. Bernard nearly choked on his drink.

"And here's our kitchen," Santa was saying. "Oh, and Bernard's here too! Bernard is my, uh, he's my...assistant."

Bernard tried not to roll his eyes at the title.

He reluctantly stood and plastered a smile on his face. "Hi, nice to meet you...eh."

Carol's dad shook his hand while her mom pulled him in for an embrace. Bernard wasn't prepared for a third person to approach; a young woman with a smile so beautiful it left him speechless.

"This is my sister," Carol said. "We didn't know she was coming too."

"I'm (Y/N)," the woman said. "Mom and dad mentioned they were coming for a visit, so I asked Scott if it was alright for me to tag along."

"Of course it would be alright!" Sylvia cut in. "Scott's already had Carol from us for so long, he'd never say no to bringing Carol's loving sister with us to finally see her again."

Sylvia had a smile on her face but there was venom in her words. (Y/N) cringed and tried to ignore her mother's comment. "It's really lovely here so far. I'm glad I could come."

Bernard was still tongue tied. He kept opening and closing his mouth like an idiot trying to figure out something to say. (Y/N) was watching him, waiting, while Scott and Carol shared an amused look.

"Let's show you the rest of the place," Carol said, putting an arm around her sister. "We'll meet up with Bernard again later."

(Y/N) smiled and waved goodbye as the group left the kitchen. Once they were gone, Bernard felt like he was freed from a spell. He let out a long breath and slumped back down to the table. His hot cocoa had cooled down enough that he finished the rst of it in two gulps.

~~~~~~

Bernard was up late that night doing his rounds of the workshop. All the other elves had left for the night, but Bernard was often the last one up making sure everything was shut down and nothing was left out of place. With the in laws visiting, he was also making sure the workshop was locked up so no one would accidentally wander in and discover everything.

He was preparing to leave when he noticed the door to the kitchen was slightly ajar. He was sure all the baker elves had left for the night, but maybe someone had stayed behind. He poked his head into the room and almost gasped aloud when he saw it was (Y/N) who was leaning against the counter, a mug of hot cocoa in her hands. She was in her pajamas, clearly preparing for bed. Bernard was about to back away and leave her be, until she looked up form her mug and caught him. She smiled and waved to him.

"Good evening, Bernard," she said.

There was no escaping now. He stepped into the kitchen and cleared his throat, trying not to seem as weird as he had earlier. He discretely made sure his ears were tucked away under his hair.

"Hi," he said. Simple, easy. You can't mess up a "hi".

"What are you doing up so late?" she asked.

"I could ask you the same thing."

She giggled. "Touché. I was having trouble sleeping so I decided to come out for a hot cocoa. That nice baker, Abby I think? She offered to make me one before she left. I was told she makes the best hot cocoa in all of the town."

"Oh, she does. She's the one you go to when you want a good hot drink made."

"She works magic, I'm sure."

Bernard tried not to let his smile falter. "You have no idea."

A silence fell over them. (Y/N) softy blew on her hot cocoa before taking a sip from it. A small trail of foam stuck to her upper lip as she pulled her mug away. Bernard couldn't stop himself from chuckling.

"What?" she asked.

"You just...you have something..." He gestured to his top lip.

She ran a thumb along her top lip, only smearing the foam more.

"Here, let me." Bernard reached up and wiped the foam off with his own thumb. He was suddenly very aware of their closeness when he looked into her eyes. Any words he could ever say were stuck in his throat yet again and he could only imagine how insane he looked, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Thank you," she said. "And thank you for having us here, too. I know it's a busy time of year for you guys. We don't mean to impose."

It took Bernard a moment to remember the story they had been telling Carol's parents: that Scott was a toy maker in Canada and that's why he would be so busy this time of year and needed someone to be there with Carol while she was pregnant.

"It's not imposition," Bernard assured her. "If anything, I think it's going to make Sa - Scott feel better to have you guys here for Carol while he's working."

(Y/N) nodded. "It's very nice of him to have us here considering how my parents tend to treat him."

Bernard thought back to the comment Sylvia had made earlier. The strained relationship between Scott and his in-laws wasn't anything new to him. Scott had mentioned it a few times before, most recently when he was voicing his concerns about bringing Bud and Sylvia to the Pole with Bernard in private. It was evident that both Newman sisters also noticed how their parents treated Scott, and it seemed neither of them were too happy with it.

"I understand why mom and dad get upset," (Y/N) continued. "One minute Carol was a proud principal at the local middle school, and then the next thing we know she's writing us to tell us she got married to a guy we've never even heard of and moved off to Canada to be with him. I mean, even I was skeptical then. But when she'd write to me about Scott and about being here, it was clear that she was so happy and she found the man of her dreams. Who are we to judge the quickness that they got married? As long as she's safe and happy, which she clearly is. But mom and dad don't see it that way. Dad is still convinced that Scott is a cult leader who stole Carol away or something."

(Y/N) paused and looked at Bernard. He had been listening as she spoke, just nodding along and not saying a word. She chuckled a little and shook her head. "Sorry, I'm rambling on about my family drama."

"No! It's-it's fine. Trust me, I've heard similar stuff from Sa - Scott."

She gave him a look. "You keep stuttering on Scott's name."

"Yeah."

He couldn't think of a better explanation besides that. He felt an unfamiliar burning sensation in his cheeks. He wasn't sure if it was embarrassment or just from being so close to her that made him feel that way. She giggled, though; a sound more beautiful than any of the twinkling bells that were often heard around the Pole.

"I'm just glad to be here," she said. "And I'm glad mom and dad can be here for when the baby is born. Maybe that will help them be a little less harsh on Scott."

She finished what was left in her mug and looked around the oversized kitchen. When Bernard realized she was probably trying to figure out where to put the dirty mug, he said, "Oh, I can take care of that for you."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. You're our guest, and I can handle this."

She smiled and passed him the mug. "Well, thanks for talking to me, Bernard. I guess I should try to sleep again."

"Goodnight, (Y/N)."

"Goodnight, Bernard." She started towards the door, but then paused to turn back to him. "I hope you're not too busy tomorrow. I'd like to spend more time with you."

His face was on fire as she left.

~~~~~~

For the first time in his thousands of years as the head elf, Bernard wasn't concerned with his head elf duties. Of course he was still there if Santa needed him, but he decided not to spend the entire day in the factory and to seek out (Y/N) to spend time with her. She was delighted to see him and was more than happy to accept his offer to show her around "Canada" for the day.

This became a regular occurrence for a few days. Bernard would make sure to check in often to see if he was needed, but if he wasn't he was with (Y/N). He would feel bad about taking her away from her time with her family, but it seemed her parents were more concerned with fussing over Carol than they were about all four of them spending time together. And (Y/N) also assured Bernard that she was making time for Carol and her family as well as spending time with him.

Bernard was more than well aware he was falling in love with (Y/N), and he was also more than well aware of how bad that was. Elves falling in love was nothing new; he had officiated quite a few elf weddings in his time. But falling in love with a human was out of the question. Elves were immortal, humans were not. Scott and Carol were different - upon becoming Santa and Mrs. Claus, their aging processes had slowed down considerably. They weren't completely immortal, but they weren't aging as fast as normal humans did. But that wasn't possible for a human that an elf fell in love with. Even if (Y/N) felt the same way towards Bernard, she would still continue to age while he would stay the same for the rest of time.

But he couldn't stop himself. He was falling fast and hard. Carol's due date was creeping closer, and once it came it would only be a matter of time before the Newman family would have to go back home, meaning that (Y/N) would leave and likely would not come back. That thought hurt Bernard.

Bernard was approaching where (Y/N) was staying one day when she slipped out of the house instead. He was surprised; she had never left before he had gotten there before.

As he got closer he realized that her face was tearstained.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

(Y/N) jumped and turned to look at him. "Oh, Bernard. Sorry, I didn't see you coming. Nothing's wrong."

He was about to point out that she was very obviously upset over something when the door opened again and Sylvia slipped out. She looked like she was about to say something, but she noticed Bernard and gave him a tight smile, one that he had come to learn was very much her fake smile.

"Hello, Bernard," she said. "I was just having a conversation with my daughter. We were talking about spending the day with Carol. We haven't had an all girls day since we arrived. So, unfortunately, I don't think she'll be able to spend time with you today."

"No mom," (Y/N) said. "I said I would join you later for girls time. Besides, you know Carol has an appointment with the doctor. She won't be ready till later."

Her mother was smiling but her eyes were glaring daggers into the younger Newman girl. (Y/N) held the glare before turning to Bernard and taking hold of his arm. She didn't say anything as she dragged him away. He followed anyways, wanting to get as far away from Sylvia as he could.

"God, I don't understand what is wrong with her," (Y/N) said, letting go of Bernard long enough to wipe the tears from her eyes. "I swear she just doesn't want Carol and I to be happy."

"What was she saying?" Bernard asked.

"Oh, she was going off about the fact that I spend so much time with you. Had her usual rant about Scott taking her precious daughter away from her and dad, and then said she'll be damned if she lets it happen with me too. Basically tried to guilt me into not spending time with you today by saying that Carol was upset that she didn't get to see me much, which I know isn't true because just the other day Carol was saying how happy she was that you and I were getting along."

She shook her head. "I'm so sick of it. It's like she can't wrap her head around the fact that maybe, just maybe, life is so busy here that Carol doesn't always have time to visit. It has nothing to do with Scott being manipulative or a cult leader or whatever conspiracy her and dad have cooked up on a certain day."

Bernard listened in silence. He felt bad that (Y/N) had to have these issues with her mother. Carol was hearing it all now, but he was sure (Y/N) heard much more of it when she was back home with her parents.

None of the Newmans could ever understand the way things were with Carol and Scott. They could never know why things were like this, but they likely wouldn't understand even if they knew.

Unless...

It was an idea that shocked even Bernard that he had it. Head elf of the North Pole, Santa's righthand man himself, considering such a thing? After being so against Carol's family coming to the Pole? It was preposterous. But his brain was so clouded by love for (Y/N) that he wasn't thinking proper.

"Come with me," he said. He didn't wait for an answer, just took hold of her hand and pulled her towards the workshop.

His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in hips pointed ears. He had to remind himself there was no going back. This was going to be huge, and it could likely get him into a world of trouble.

He opened the doors to the workshop and (Y/N) stepped in. She looked around in awe at the working elves, most of which were not hiding their ears as the workshop was supposed to be off limits to the Newmans. None of them seemed to notice the two of them enter, and if they did, nothing was said.

Bernard watched (Y/N), nervously waiting for her reaction.

"Is this...what I think it is?" she asked him. "No, it can't be. I must be dreaming. I fell and hit my head and now I'm in a coma having a very vivid dream that all of these small people who are supposed to be Canadians have pointed ears like they're elves."

When she looked over at him, Bernard had taken off his hat and allowed his ears to peak out from under his hair.

"I've lost it," she decided.

"You haven't," he assured her. "All of this is real. It's why Carol hasn't been able to visit as much, or why you couldn't visit until now. Look, there's so much to know about all of this. So much that I want to tell you but technically I can't because there are strict rules about humans knowing about the North Pole."

(Y/N) had another quick moment of shock that she was able to very quickly recover from. "Rules that you're currently breaking by showing me...Santa's workshop. By admitting that you're an elf, these are all elves...oh my God, my sister is Mrs. Claus."

"It is all very complicated," he said. "But you deserve to know that Carol is truly happy here. She's not being held against her will, Santa isn't manipulative or holding her captive. He loves her so much that he risked you and your parents finding out about him - about us - so that all of you could be here for her while she's pregnant."

(Y/N) still seemed to be stunned. She looked around the bustling factory again, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Wait," she said. "But...if you all went through so much to make us think this was Canada, to keep who Scott is a secret...then why are you telling me now?"

Because I love you. Because I want you to stay. Because I want to be with you more than anything, even though I know that will never happen.

"Because I want you to know the truth," he replied. "About all of this. About...about me."

She was looking at him. He didn't know what else to say, so he just looked back. He waited for an answer. He willed her to say something, anything.

She didn't say anything, though. Instead, she leaned forward and kissed Bernard. It was quick, almost hesitant, and when she pulled away she looked embarrassed.

"Sorry," she said. "I...should I have done that? I should've asked first. Was it okay that I did that?"

He smiled. "It was more than okay."

"Okay. I'm...I'm going to do it again, if that's still okay."

Bernard chuckled and moved in to kiss (Y/N) first. He had only ever kissed one person before - when he was young one of the other elves had gave him a quick peck on the lips and ran away afterwards. Not exactly something glamorous or anything like that. So he was a little worried about whether or not he was a good kisser. Although, something felt so natural about kissing (Y/N), like he could never do it wrong even if he tried.

He paused when he realized a slight hush had fallen over the workshop. He and (Y/N) pulled away to see that all the working elves had stopped what they were doing to look at the two of them.

"Back to work!" Bernard commanded. They all quickly fell back into what they had been doing before. "Bunch of gossips, all of them. Everyone in town will know about this by nightfall."

"I don't blame them. I'd assume it's not every day that they see an elf kissing a human."

He chuckled. "No, I guess not."

They decided to step out of the workshop to talk more in private. (Y/N) looped her arm through Bernard's as they walked, a gesture that suddenly felt much more intimate than it had before.

"I guess it goes without saying that I can't tell anyone about this," she said. "Not even my parents."

"No. Which I know is a big ask, but we can't have the secret of Santa going around," Bernard explained.

"Not like anyone would believe me. They'd think I was crazy if I went home talking about how my brother in law is Santa and how I started crushing on one of his elves. They'd sent me to an institute for sure."

Bernard smiled at her word choice. So she had liked him this whole time, too. Had it been obvious? Or had she been trying to contain it just as much as he did?

"How...would things work...for us then?" she asked.

It was the question he was dreading. The one he continued to ask himself despite knowing the answer to: it wouldn't. He couldn't let (Y/N) hold on to him when she left the Pole. She'd likely never see him again, which was for the best.

Seeing the look on his face, (Y/N) stopped. "No, do not tell me it's not going to work."

"It can't work, (Y/N). There's too much complications between a human and an elf being romantically linked. It's never happened before, and for good reason."

"There's a first for everything."

He shook his head. "No, there can't be a first for this. I can't let you throw away any other romantic opportunities you have for me. We may never see each other after this visit."

"My sister is married to Santa. There's no way I'm not coming back after this. And besides, long distance relationships are a thing."

"This one would be...very long distance."

She slid her arm from his and took his hand in hers. "I'm willing to try. I like you too much to give up without a fight."

Every rational part of his brain was screaming for him to stop. He could not let things go further. It was better for her if they ended everything after that first kiss and went hteir separate ways.

But the less rational part of his brain was louder than the rest, telling him not to give up this chance at happiness outside of work. He deserved to love and to be loved, just like anyone else in the world. If it worked for Scott, it had to work for him too, right?

He sighed and squeezed her hands. "It won't be easy."

"I don't expect it to be."

"You won't be able to be here a lot unless you're willing to give up everything the way Carol did."

"That's fine, we can make that work."

"And if you do end up coming here permanently, you can't tell anyone who I really am, or who Scott and Carol really are. You'll have to lie to everyone in your life. Is that something you can be okay with?"

(Y/N) stepped closer to him so that their noses were nearly touching. "I'm already lying about Scott and Carol. What's one more lie about the man I love?"

Love.

It was enough for him to abandon all hope at resisting her. He closed the space between them, kissing her again so passionately that it made her head spin. She wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself, while he wrapped his arms around her waist.

He could've kissed her forever. He could've stood there, wrapped around her and her wrapped around him, the cold nipping at them but barely bothering them, forever. He wanted to take this moment and freeze it, to never have to go back to his busy life as Santa's right hand elf ever again.

But she pulled away first, resting her forehead against his.

"I did promise my mom a girl's day," she said with a sigh. "And I think if I blow her off for this, she'll probably actually kill me."

"I guess I'll have to let you go then."

But he didn't, and she didn't let go of him. They laughed and kissed again.

It would be another several minutes before he would finally (and reluctantly) let her go.

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