#Some meaningless fluff
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clonedchaos · 1 month ago
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So, an apology for not having my crossover story published by now like I wanted it to. It’s a huge passion project of mine and something I’m eager to show everyone, as niche of a topic/crossover it may be. But, school is keeping me busy.
For the time being, here’s a silly little snippet that has already been written along with a silly headcanon of mine with little to no relevancy to the plot, I just think it’s neat:
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In this series, the Ink Demon holds a grudge against birds; in part due to the fact Bendy’s bird hates him. Ironically later in the series, he becomes a cat person…
Cats love to eat birds… and they also nap a lot and can be moody. Seems fitting for the rather grouchy king of the ink realm. Meanwhile Bendy never stops chattering like a baby starling. He 100% talked to that bird 24/7. (And no Ink wouldn’t actually eat the bird, Audrey would’ve gotten on his case about it)
The birb btw:
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Silly bird that’s brought up in the prologue and maybe never again unless I find a reason.
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thegreatcrowdragon · 8 months ago
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Oh shit I made a vanilla milkshake au last night while half asleep and I just forgor. To tell you guys about it.
Uhh so basically a pre-corruption Shadow Milk finds and saves a near death faerie pv who is stuck in a glue trap (because the faeries are actually faerie sized in this au) and fluffy antics ensue
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zentriii · 7 months ago
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finished a wip i've been working on for months and now i'm just sitting here like now what-?
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sunsetzer · 11 months ago
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Oh geez let me see if I still have some of my notes from it. I wrote a story about it but I wanna do a rewrite since I'm not too proud of how it turned out (pushes aside my Opera Omnia OC/canon fics I get distracted by)
But basically the bg is that Setzer's a gentleman thief by night under the alias Blackjack (because of course that's his name) while he robs the wealthy of their excess materials and sells it to the Auction House for fundings to create an airship (that hasn't happened quite yet for plot reasons). The long story short is he's "hired" by the Empire to steal something from the King of Figaro, and he has to figure out how to rob the castle. Good thing he's able to befriend a nice good looking young man who enjoys his company, has long hair let down, and happens to be an engineer for the castle that knows all the tricks to it (clueless).
Oh my god, that's genius. I absolutely love this concept and would love to read it if/when you finish and are comfortable sharing! I'm always craving more edosetzu content, they just work so well together as characters.
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weirdo-from-bonesborough · 2 years ago
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Welp. Guess it’s time to delete this future plot point from the fic I’ve been working on for the past two years!
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sttoru · 9 months ago
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.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. it’s late at night and you try to cuddle with sukuna. keyword; try.
wc. 1.2k
tags. true form!sukuna x female reader. fluff, angst (+comfort). heian era. size difference (readers referred to as small). sukuna’s a bit mean, but he also has a soft spot for you. miscommunication ? it gets solved. reader gets called ‘woman, doll’.
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“what are you trying to do?” sukuna sighs. you’re up to something again, he figures. his red eyes follow your body as it crawls up to him on the bed.
you’re both tired after a long day of fulfilling some duties here and there around the estate. all you need is a big beefy man wrapping his arms around you to keep you warm and safe.
the perfect man for that is sukuna. those four arms of his wrapped around your small body feel like heaven.
“it’s called cuddling,” you retort. the sarcastic tone you used triggers a deep sigh from the sorcerer. sukuna holds back the urge to say something sarcastic as well.
he doesn’t utter a single word once you snuggle up to his chest. you’ve taught him how to cuddle during the first time you asked him to hold you. sukuna was awkward with showing any type of affection back then.
. . he still very much is.
“hug, please,” you remind him. the cold-hearted man scoffs, though listens to your polite request. all four of his arms imprison you against his chest, your small body nearly disappearing behind his limbs.
that’s what you like most about those cuddles you share together; how you fit so perfectly in his strong arms. it’s much more comforting than you thought it would be.
a pair of hands rests on your waist, the other pair on your hips. sukuna glances down at you and immediately notices that smile on your lips. even after all this time, he still cannot fathom why you’re so carefree around a monster like him.
and that inability to understand you and your love for him is accompanied by an urge to push you away.
“you got your hug, now get up,” sukuna interrupts the silence. his voice is cold and devoid of emotion—he uses that voice when he talks to other people. not with you, “i have better things to attend to.”
thus, it hurts. when he talks to you like that. like you’re not the person he secretly cherishes most. though, you remind yourself of sukuna’s own words. the ones you heard him say a while ago.
‘love is meaningless’, he said. you remember. and yet you kept hoping that he’d change his mind about that statement. you hoped and eventually saw exactly that: your presence and your affectionate gestures mellowed his heart of steel.
but all that effort seems to go down the drain every time sukuna pushes you away.
you know it’s because he’s unfamiliar with the feelings of love. he may not say it nor show it, but you know that sukuna’s afraid of hurting you. so, he creates a gap between you two every now and then.
you know and yet you’re patient.
“oh, ‘kay,” you nod in understanding. you pull away from his embrace and get up from the bed. your bottom lip trembles.
sukuna is not gullible. he’s anything but oblivious. especially if it’s about how you feel and act. he notices every single change in your mood; whether you mask it or not.
you walk to the sliding doors—ready to open them and step out into the hallway. your eyes are a bit watery, but you quickly blink the tears away and take a deep breath in. you reach for the door.
“come back here, woman.”
sukuna’s booming voice makes you stop. you glance at his form over your shoulder. he’s leaning against the headboard of the bed, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.
is he. . . upset?
“why? you said you had better things to attend to.” you answer with a shrug. you try your best to not make it seem like his earlier words had effected you. you turn your head towards the word with a huff, “go on, then.”
sukuna narrows his eyes. he sucks at communicating what he actually desires—what he actually wants. right now that want is for you to stay. even though that completely contradicts his previous words.
the sorcerer doesn’t know what to do. when you’re with him, he pushes you away out of guilt. when you’re away, he wants you back with him.
love is complicated.
“you. . .” sukuna grunts in frustration. all those feelings for you inside of his heart are playing with his rational thoughts. he doesn’t like seeing you upset. he wants the usual you back, “tsk. fine then.”
silence, followed by the creaking of the bed frame. seems like sukuna’s getting up to do whatever ‘business’ he needed to attend. at least, that’s what you thought.
you slide the door open and set a foot outside of the chambers. before the other could follow, you’re suddenly lifted up in the air by a strong pair of hands. your vision turns upside down as your body is effortlessly hoisted onto a shoulder.
“woah!” you gasp and feel the blood go to your head. your eyes are fixed on the back of your lover. you kick your legs in protest, but only get a smack to your ass in response. you whine at that, “put me down!”
“watch it, doll,” sukuna hisses at your fierce demand, a warning to fix your tone. he puts you back down on the soft mattress. he’s surprisingly gentle when he settles you in place—not throwing you on the bed or anything similar, “should’ve listened when i told you the first time.”
your eyes meet sukuna’s and you notice how much they’ve softened. that alone makes the lump in your throat disappear. your love for him isn’t one sided—you’ve always kept that in the back of your mind—yet your thoughts made you overlook the little things he does for you.
his actions speak louder than his words. that’s the kind of man he is.
sukuna’s trying to open up more, though that process is slow. you’re fine with that.
especially when there’s that faint pout on his lips as he stares at you. his eyebrows are still furrowed, his crimson eyes sharp yet warm.
“oh, you want me back in bed this bad?” you tease once you get the opportunity. the man in front of you clicks his tongue and grabs your cheeks with one hand, turning your head up to face him.
sukuna’s eyes are focused on yours. the eye contact is intimidating, but you’re hypnotised. you physically can’t look away. he leans in and bites your lip with his sharp canines, “shut up.”
that raspy whisper alone confirms your assumption. you giggle at his attempt of refuting your point. you’re used to all those intimidating words and actions he pulls to get you to stop your teasing.
those empty threats—it’s becoming rather cute with how hard he tries to deny everything. he fails nearly every time, however.
“come,” sukuna lays back against the pillows after placing a quick and sloppy kiss against your lips. he pulls your body against his and presses your head against his chest, right where his heart is beating, “continue with your.. ‘cuddling’ thing.”
he put your ear right above his heart, because he remembers listening to his heartbeat calms you down. you told him that a while back. sukuna doesn’t understand why you like it, but his fingers massage your scalp either way.
that’s also something that brings you comfort.
you’re surprised by how much he knows about you, but appreciate it anyway. he remembers both the big and small things about you. ‘that’s how he probably shows his love,’ you conclude silently.
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alexiroflife · 5 months ago
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"babysitting"
fluff, crack
Synopsis: that time you were babysitting your niece when sukuna came home...
to sum it up: sukuna is such a dad but doesn't know it yet
WC: 1,218
Warning(s): none
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“What the fuck is that?”
You look up to see Sukuna standing in the doorway, a twisted snarl on his face as he glares harshly at the object within your grasp. You raise your brows, momentarily surprised by his arrival, and give him a soft smile. 
“Hi, Kuna,” you greet happily, ignoring his question. “I didn’t know you were gonna be back so soon.”
“Answer my question, woman,” he growls, looking almost disgusted by the sight before him. “What is that?”
He points one of his burly arms to you, and you look down at the cooing seven-month-old in your embrace, bouncing up on your knee as you sit on the floor just before Sukuna’s large bed. The baby gargles, hand stuffed into her mouth as drool dribbles down her fist, a thoughtless smile rising onto her small lips.
“She’s my niece,” you tell him, smoothing your thumb lovingly over the baby’s shirt, inspiring a small giggle and a senseless babble. You smile. “Isn’t she so cute?”
“It’s vile,” Sukuna grimaces and you frown. “Why is that beast in my temple?”
“Sukuna, be nice,” you roll your eyes. “She’s just a baby, and my sister needed some help looking after her for a few hours.”
“And you felt prompted to bring it here?”  he scrunches his nose. 
“Her, and where else would I be?” 
“As long as you’re carrying that creature, you must be anywhere else but here,” he grumbles, turning dismissively to leave the room. “I want it gone.”
“What?!” you exclaim, moving to stand with the baby resting on your hip. You walk over to your boyfriend, touching your soft hand to his large back to keep him from leaving. Sukuna peers over his shoulder angrily, four eyes squinting down at the two of you. “Come on, Sukuna! At least admit how adorable she is. Look at this precious little face.”
You squish gently at the baby’s cheeks and her fist falls from her mouth, big round eyes scrunching as a giddy beam rises to her rosy cheeks. All Sukuna can see, however, is the slobber shining over her chin and on her hand. “I do not understand what you are requesting of me,” he says coldly, eying the child as though she carries the plague. “Is it incapable of keeping its saliva inside of its mouth?”
“She’s teething,” you say flatly.
“What?”
“Her teeth are coming in soon, it stimulates drooling.”
Sukuna’s face of disgust grows more exaggerated, leaning his head back with curled lips. “Like an animal?”
Your face drops as you stare at him boredly. “Yes, Sukuna. Like an animal. All humans did it at one point.”
“Do you mean to inform me that you engaged in such a disgusting act when you were in this stage of life?”
“...Yes?”
He clicks his tongue, now eying you with an air of suspicion. “Good to know,” he says rather judgmentally.
The thought crosses your mind to point at that your boyfriend was at some point a human too, but you decide against it.
“Sukuna,” you groan. “Aside from the drool, she’s such a precious little thing. You have to agree, right?” you coo. You look down at the baby to grin childishly at her, tucking your finger under her chin and tapping her slightly, hardly tickling at her body but arising a few more giggles nonetheless. You babble meaningless sounds, speaking to her in a playful voice that Sukuna has never heard from you before.
Though still thoroughly confounded as to why you want him to take interest in this little animal, his eyes catch the way you soften for the child, how your eyes light and a sense of maternity takes you as you speak to the baby as though you know just what to say, drawing out toothless grins and thrilled gibberish. His brow twitches involuntarily, something within him almost enjoying the sight before him. You’re so good with this creature. Have you always been like this?
“What language are you speaking with it?” he suddenly asks gruffly, causing you to pause and look up at him as your niece reaches her small hands up to your cheek. 
“With her,” you correct again. “And I’m not speaking any language, I’m just playing around,” you chuckle slightly. Sukuna stares harshly now, examining the movements of the half developed human in your arms as she curiously taps against your face.
Suddenly catching wind of his presence, the baby’s head turns to him and her eyes grow bigger. She cries out excitedly, reaching her arms out to Sukuna with grasping tiny fingers. Sukuna falters, confused.
“What is she doing?” he asks urgently, and you laugh.
“She wants you to hold her,” you say softly.
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Kuna,” you pout. “Please? Just for two seconds.”
“I said no, you brat.”
“Pleaseeeee? Pretty pretty please, my king?”
You give him the biggest puppy dog eyes you can muster, and when he looks between the two of you, your expressions almost match. Sukuna feels something in his resolve crumble, incapable of truly denying you though he tries his best to still appear as though you give him a hard time. 
With an agitated sigh, he reaches his upper set of arms to grab the child as you lift her up and hand her to him. “Two seconds,” he growls and your eyes sparkle with anticipation.
He holds the baby up before him, watching as her little feet dangle and kick around in her onesie as he grasps her from under her arms. His hands practically consume her entire frame, her fingers still reaching out to him curiously, joyfully.
The king of curses continues to glare, brow cocked while he tries to decide what is so special about it. Perhaps he can understand what you find to be “cute.” The baby’s got big chubby cheeks and huge doe eyes that almost remind him of you, and she’s so comically tiny it makes him want to laugh. 
He grunts softly as he pulls the baby in closer, complying with her unspoken request displayed by her constant reaching. She touches her little slobber-less hand on his forehead, touching softly at the plate structure on the right side of his face. Sukuna imagined himself to be a bit more perturbed by the contact, but finds himself unbothered, allowing the child to trace his features with innocent exploration.
You watch with your hands to your mouth, hiding your bright smile. The sight before you is just so adorable, you wish you could take a picture but you know that Sukuna would be quick to crush your phone in an instant if he caught you.
Sukuna finally pulls the child away, watching her grin happily. He hands her back to you and crosses his arms. “What is her purpose?” he questions, and you give him a strange look, adjusting the baby back on your hip as she plays with your hair. 
“She has no purpose. She’s a baby.”
“She is too young to work? To serve?”
“Wh- yes?!”
“Very well,” he nods. “She may stay for another hour.”
“...But my sister isn’t free for another two hours.”
“Two hours, and if she isn’t gone by then, tell her in her native tongue that I will be eating her fingers for dinner.”
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ghostgirl101 · 8 months ago
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Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅰ of Ⅱ
|| Word Count: 1.5K || Angst → Fluff ||
A/N: I had this as a big idea that I had to get down before the basic headcanons and stuff, so here's my take on our Lisan al Gaib 😎 if you like this then hit me up for some relationship headcanons and the like, I'm up for it all. Enjoy reading or watching the movie if you haven't already - I'm going again lol, and screen X is the best way to experience it fr Also I feel like I should write a second part to this lmao, if you liked what you read?
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You weren't one for dreams of destiny.
The dreams you had seemed meaningless, confusing, nothing to do with what ifs and what could. Not like his.
But you always seemed to feel some kind of atmosphere, an aura you couldn't quite shake off, even when you woke up from the darkness. There was no face to go with the voice, the voice in the dark that called to you in whispers that you didn't understand. Beautiful words that weren't yours, but sounded so soft and gentle and powerful, as they reached out to you from distant lands.
You could never place them, pin them down and study them, understand them, until the day the Emperor was challenged by a ghost of a lost House, thought to be dead, left to be forgotten. You stand near the Emperor and his guards and men, the Great Houses looming and listening from higher above, as the Fremen fill up the space to watch the confrontation in spirited anticipation.
The life debt was paid. The late Emperor was overthrown. The ascendancy of Paul Atreides rose and took from the throne to claim it.
His attention flicks from his eyes boring coldly into the Emperor's, to meet yours, his voice smooth and set, full of conviction and force.
"Our destiny is together. I'll take her."
Your eyes widen slightly as his words sink in, blinking through the shock and incredulity that rushes through you and makes your heart race in apprehension and wonder. Though his voice twins with your wandering dreams, you don't know whether to feel fascination and longing, or fear and cautiousness at some greater force beyond your understanding, playing out before your very eyes.
"I..." your voice falters in uncertainty and disbelief, and you try again. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me well," Paul responds with an undying, stoic certainty that's almost unnerving. "As I know you."
His eyes study you, his Spice-stained blue eyes bleeding into yours, scanning every freckle on your face and curve of your outfit. Assessing you, knowing you, ridiculous throngs of power filling his aura and projecting onto you with his intense stare. You have to fight not to shiver under it, ultimately failing.
"What of me?" is the wisest reply you can think of before the silence stretches into dangerous uncertainty.
"Everything," Paul says evenly, but there's no mistaking the challenge and determination in his tone, almost daring you to reject him, to disagree, a built-up desire of dreamt promises resolving his stand. "I choose you, as my Empress. We will rule together, over the Empire."
Scepticism and bewilderment washes over you and makes your blood heat and stir, retreating into silence as he takes a step closer to you, gazing at you as if you're the most curious, exotic being he's ever seen.
Desire threatens to override Paul Atreides' reason, clinging onto the hope and chance of a narrow way through to light, a light that could only be sought out with you by his side. Without you, there was nothing in sight but pools of blood replacing luscious marine life and oceans running through Arrakis, disarray and disillusion at every turn and infecting every heart.
You were absolutely perfect.
And you were already his, long before this moment, before you and he were born into the world and named. There was no manipulation needed, because everything was laid out for him to take, welcoming him to rule and grow higher and higher. Fate had bonded you and strung you along to here and now, and as you blink up into his bright eyes that narrow slightly at you, frowning softly as if you hadn't understood his demand.
"Do you know what I am?"
You pause for a moment, speaking slowly and cautiously, as the crowd of Fremen and the wary, late Emperor watch on in tense wordlessness. "You are Leto Atreides' son. Former Duke of Caladan."
"What I am," Paul repeats evenly, "not who I am." He stares at you in silence for another beat, before speaking up again. "Do you know of the Bene Gesserit?"
You stop yourself from glancing in Lady Jessica's direction just in time; the runes patterning her skin, her once soft eyes now spiked with an unfamiliar darkness of ages past. Anyone could get trapped in her watchful glare, and her son's holds almost as much intensity.
"No," you decide on hesitantly.
"Kwisatz Hederach," he adds, taking another step forward until you can feel his breath tickling your cheeks, standing above you with unspoken grace and vigor. "I see the future. A part of me is the future."
His hand is suddenly squeezing yours warmly and tightly, making you flinch slightly and glance down at them before looking back up at him.
"In this future, I am with you."
All you can do is stare at him in awe and wariness, not knowing whether to let your curiosity guide you, or distance yourself as far as possible from the boy who reigns over the dunes.
"Why?" you whisper, the crowds seeming to fade around you as you focus on the boy in front of you, his fingers tangling with yours boldly.
"I've seen it," Paul insists, his tone a touch softer in thought and wistfulness. "All of it. When I am with you..." His grip tightens over yours, the fire in his eyes returning. "We're unstoppable."
"And..." your words dry before you can speak them, and you will yourself to go on, unable to break away from the deep blue hues of his gaze. "And without?"
His jaw visibly clenches at your question, and his hand drops yours, shaking his head only answer as he glances away in slight frustration.
"You don't have the leisure of choice. It's all been made for you, written in the sands and stars, and what you need to do is walk in its path. I will show you the way. You have no other. Do you understand?"
The firmness is strong in his words and glare, making you look away from him too, still in a slight stun over the rush of events. In less than a day, your freedom has been stripped to this young man's desires and destiny, entwined with yours. You, who barely knew him until now, only familiar with his voice, his words, that echoed and rang in your head like a lullaby.
But this feels so harsh and strict. The eyes of the former Emporer linger between the two of you, and Paul's army of Fremen stand behind him attentively, some gazing at you in admiration and hope, of their messiah's promised bride. And she is beautiful.
"That's unfair."
"The future is unfair," Paul says calmly, his collected, cool tone wavering for a moment. "But it will be so much worse without you by my side, and I will not accept that. Not for my people... not for myself."
You stare at him in fascination and caution, lost for words. His fingers rise to brush against the skin of your cheek, sending tingles in their wake and making you fight back the automatic reaction, your eyes following his surprisingly gentle touch. Two fingers trace down the shape of your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head slightly upwards. Just one step closer, and your lips would be touching too.
"Name anything," he murmurs to you, the Fremen straining to hear his voice as it reaches you effortlessly, his expression earnest and determined. "Anything. And it is yours. Only if you willingly wed me in turn. Not as a concubine, nor a mistress."
You blink, then blink again, taken aback as a million thoughts and suggestions race through your mind and make your head spin for a split second. You glance at the elder Emperor, who gazes back at you and the infamous Lisan al Gaib wearily, his eyes clouded with sombreness and light spite.
"I... I don't," you shake your head, overwhelmed by an impossible choice. "I don't know..."
Paul's expression softens into a smile you haven't seen before, one that makes your cheeks flush with colour as you watch him; a gentle, amused smile that's somehow familiar and unfamiliar all at once, one meant just for you, as he disregards his surroundings.
"You will know," he replies quietly, "and I will have you, and protect you, rule with you. Love you. As I am meant to."
Paul suddenly brings you closer, pulling you into a searing kiss without warning. The exotic, earthy taste of the Spice on his tongue floods your senses and sends shudders of ecstasy and heat coursing under your skin and hushing the myriad of thoughts buzzing in your mind in an instant.
When he pulls away, all too soon, you find yourself chasing his lips before you catch yourself, and Paul gives you another soft smile, his forehead resting against yours as your eyes lock.
"And as I long to," he finishes against your lips, his words grounded with a look of protectiveness and desire that makes you instinctively relax further in his hold.
⊹⊹⊹
From beyond you both, his mother smiles slightly at the scene, a hand hovering over her rounded stomach.
The first step has been made.
══════════════⊹⊱≼ part two coming soon ≽⊰⊹══════════════
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pathologicalreid · 2 months ago
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litmus test | s.r.
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in which Spencer needs your expertise to help solve a murder, but crime fighting is most decidedly not for you
find more chemist!reader here!
who? spencer reid x chemist!reader category: flangst (like. the end is a little angsty and it has case details) content warnings: typical cm violence, science talk, fem!reader, reader is not built for crime, morgan being an older brother, some fun banter!! death by firework is crazy lmao word count: 1.68k a/n: this is one of my favorite fluff pieces i've written in agessss i missed chemist!reader so much i learn so many things when i'm writing her. this was a request! i hope you like it as much as i do!!
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“Do you have a second?” Spencer asks, his voice slightly choppy over the phone. Between his ancient phone and being inside concrete police precincts, some disconnect was bound to happen.
Saving your document to your computer, you rest the lab phone between your shoulder and ear, “If you’re asking me if I have any corrosive chemicals in my hands, the answer is no.”
He chuckles lightly, “I never know with you.”
You roll your eyes in response, even if he can’t see you, “It was one time and I needed a new phone case anyway.”
“You fused the plastic of your phone case to the material of your phone,” he retorts far too quickly for your liking.
“Yes,” you acquiesce, “but I know the exact chemical reaction that caused that phenomenon.” You cross your legs one over the other, maintaining your balance on your lab stool as you speak to Spencer over the phone.
He gave a light hum in response, “Speaking of chemical reactions – I need your help.”
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You’re asking me for help in chemistry?” There really was a first time for everything, you suppose.
Spencer was more than capable of navigating a lab on his own, even so, he admits, “You have more applied practice than I do.”
Pursing your lips, you nod to yourself, “Fair enough. What’s stumping you, Dr. Reid?” Your inquiry, while innocent enough, garners a wolf whistle from your graduate assistant.
“There’s something burning a hole in these bones, and I’m not sure what would be causing it to happen this fast,” he explains, giving you minor background information on how long the bones were out and if the medical examiner had treated them with something.
You clear your throat, frowning at the notes you had scrawled down in front of you, “Burning or corroding?” What was seemingly a meaningless distinction would actually allow you to filter through approximately half of the possibilities.
“Corroding,” he corrects himself, “My mistake.”
Crossing off some of your notes, you purse your lips at the new possibilities, “No worries. Did you try flushing it out with water?”
You hear papers flipping on his end of the call before you get a response, “That would destroy evidence.”
“Well,” you raise your eyebrows, “It sounds like your evidence is destroying itself.”
“Baby,” Spencer says in a no-nonsense tone reserved for when he was deep in a case. You could’ve sworn you heard Morgan in the background of the call mocking him for the pet name.
Turning back to your notes, you sigh, “Yeah, yeah, all work and no play. Was the body buried?”
“Partially,” his reply intrigues you, “I can have Garcia send you the crime scene photos if you think it’ll help.”
Wrinkling your nose at the thought, you made an unsure sound, “Right, because nothing says lunchtime like getting up close and personal with a homicide victim.”
“What lunchtime? It’s three pm in D.C. right now,” he caught you, a slight chiding tone in his words.
Ignoring his questions, you ask more of your own, “Was the body near water? Did they test the pH of the soil and water?”
There were more papers flipping, likely someone presenting the results of those tests to him, “Yeah, the soil was a five-point two and the water was a seven-point eight,” he listed off for you.
While your knowledge of the pH of the soil in Iowa was limited, you did know that those levels were pretty on par for the northern Mississippi River. “O-kay,” you say, extending your vowels, “and they didn’t find anything else on the scene that points to corrosive materials. Hydrofluoric acid?” You posit, “No, you know what – maybe you should send me those files. My work email is encrypted, you can give it to Penelope.”
He speaks to someone else in the room with him and you resist the urge to ask him if he’s enjoying Iowa, “It’s sent,” he confirms with you.
Pulling up your email only takes a moment, and once you get over the initial shock of seeing a dead body on your computer screen, you lift your lab glasses to the top of your head in order to get a better look. “I mean,” you think for a moment, “those look like alkali burns to me. I’ve never seen them on bones before, but you should do a litmus test to check either way.”
“So, we rinse it with water?” He asks, seeking instruction from you in a way that makes you feel oddly powerful.
Your eyes widen, “No, no, no. If it’s a metal compound then it’ll be covered in a mineral oil, so rinsing it with water would actually make the burn worse.”
Pausing for a moment, you consider the possibility that Spencer didn’t have the luxury of time – he was trying to solve a murder, not do experiments in a lab.
“Alkali burns can be serious, it all depends on what caused them, and most are helped by rinsing with water. So, unless you have the time to test for metal compounds, I’d go ahead and rinse it. You might want to brush the damage to the bones with a dry brush first. If there’s lime on the bones it’ll foam, which not only will corrode the bones even further but it might release a toxic gas,” you have no idea how the corrosion would interact with bone marrow, but something tell you that you don’t want to know
“Wait a minute,” Derek interjects, being included in the conversation now that Spencer put the call on speaker, “I thought things like alkaline water were good for you.”
You scoff instinctively, “Oh, there’s no definitive evidence that shows alkaline water as having any real health benefits. Especially not the benefits that the internet says it has.” Straightening up in your stool, you continue, “In fact, there is evidence from the NIH that says drinking alkaline water could cause kidney damage. There’s a particular-“
“My bad,” he interjects, effectively stopping your rambling before it really took off, “I forgot whose girlfriend I was talking to.”
Groaning at your new vexation, you huff, “Oh, fuck off, Derek. Go kick down a door.”
Spencer quickly switches the phone back, “Thank you, angel.”
Squinting at the photos that were still on your laptop screen, a crude, disturbing thought came to mind, “You know, sparklers can cause alkali burns. It might be something to consider because of the diameter of the burns.”
Your boyfriend was silent on his end of the call for so long that you had to check and make sure the call hadn't dropped. “Did you say sparklers?”
“Yep,” you confirm, “like the ones you can get everywhere this time of year.”
He says something to Morgan, placing his hand over the receiver so you can’t hear, “There’s only one spot in this town, though. I’ve gotta go, see you soon.”
“Stay safe, please! I prefer your bones unburned,” you rattle off into the phone before it clicks, placing the phone back on the stand and deleting the crime scene photos from your inbox.
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The front door to the apartment opens and shuts quietly, with Spencer under the assumption that you already went to bed, he was surprised to find you on the couch, nursing a cup of tea. “Hey, baby,” he chirps, unusually peppy for this time of night.
“Hey,” you say half-heartedly, threading your fingers through the handle of the mug.
Your somber tone gets Spencer’s attention, “What’s wrong?”
The slight panic in his voice causes your eyes to snap up to his, “Nothing,” you murmur. “It’s just… the woman who was in those pictures. There- the burns on her bones, they were signs of torture, weren’t they?”
You’d been thinking about the burns ever since Spencer showed them to you, “Yes,” he answers with a reciprocating softness, sitting down next to you on the couch. “The medical examiner concluded that she was burned antemortem.”
That woman had been burned alive by fireworks, sparklers had seared their way through skin and muscle until it finally met her bones. You blink a few tears from your eyes at the thought, “I like my lab, Spence.”
The confusion on his face was palpable, “I know you do.”
“I like my minimal human interaction and my chemicals, and I like knowing why certain things cause certain reactions. I like it when things make sense.” You take a deep, shaky breath, “Killing someone. Torturing someone with fireworks. That just doesn’t make sense to me.”
You had no interest in hearing the excuses that the killer had provided. You had no interest in hearing the psychological breakdown of that woman’s killer. Spencer knows that, “The photos got to you?”
Taking a sip from your mug, you nod solemnly, “I can’t stop thinking about the way it must have felt. Oh, the smell must have been horrible. That poor woman.” In theory, it was a ridiculous notion, killing someone with fireworks seemed neither probable nor possible. Yet here you are.
“But we got the person who killed her,” Spencer reassures you, resting his hand gently on your knee. “We couldn’t have done it without you,” he adds.
Your face warms at his compliment, “I wish I could have helped before she was killed.” You were grateful that Spencer hadn’t passed on any personal information about the woman, it was easier for you if you kept things in separate storage files in your mind.
Spencer hums, reaching out and sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear, “There’s always going to be another one. I’m sorry about the photos, I should’ve made sure Garcia only sent the necessary ones.”
Nodding absentmindedly, you look at him thoughtfully, “This will pass, but for tonight I just feel bad for the victim.”
“I can have Penelope share some of her favorite baby animal videos, if you’d like,” he offers softly, resting his head on your shoulder.
In return, you give him a small smile, “Well, I suppose it really can’t hurt.”
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jirsungs · 3 months ago
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NO IDEA ☆ l.dh
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pairing: loser!donghyuck x fem!reader
no idea synopsis: a story where both you and lee donghyuck seem to get what you want. he's the perfect pawn in making your ex-boyfriend jealous and the smarty pants tutor helping you pass your math class. donghyuck has it easy too, he's finally able to seek out and experience the world of dating through you, his long-devoted crush and surprisingly enthusiastic tutoring student. but then again, when meaningless tutoring sessions soon evolve into reciprocated feelings, is it really that easy?
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genre: college au, nonidol au, fake dating au, social media au (includes written chapters), classmates to friends to lovers, he's a nerd & she's a popular cheerleader (you see where this is going), he fell first but she fell harder trope, kinda based off to all the boys i've loved before, fluff, crack/humor, angst, one-sided pining that turns into mutual pining
warnings: explicit language, unrealistic college partying, talks about family issues (this does NOT reflect any of the idol's families!), yuqi has an ex gf, some alcohol consumption, kys and sexual humor, bullying, hyuck and his buds are mistreated ☹️, hyunjin is a bad bf!!!, cheesy af, unrequited love, bad insults that sound like they're from the 2000s, HELLA miscommunication
no idea playlist: btr's no idea, taylor swift's you belong with me, the vamps + demi lovato's somebody to you, james arthur's can i be him, ariana grande's daydreamin, fitz & the tantrums' out of my league, shawn mendes' treat you better, bruno mars' just the way you are, lonely god's marlboro nights, the 1975's i'm in love with you, sam smith's like i can, arctic monkeys' wanna be yours
author's note: FIRST HYUCK SMAUU! how we feeling 😏 i needed to get this idea out of my system! plus, i love this type of trope, and haechan just fits the nerdy role 😭 I HAD TO! but happy reading :D <3
comment if you wish to be tagged for the story's updates!
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profiles: "ncu freaks" + jeno 🤔 | gal pals & two men
intro. #manifestationiskey 🩷
ep 1. but a FAILING?
ep 2. i guess i'm her tutor
ep 3. WHY IS HE ATTRACTIVE
ep 4. COUGH y/n bag him COUGH
ep 5. i know i can treat youuu bettterr
ep 6. YNHYUCK PLOT IS FINALLY SAILING!
ep 7. bro texts with his 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 𝓪𝓵𝓹𝓱𝓪 mode on 🐺👅
ep 8. bro fumbled HARD 🤦‍♂️
ep 9. LET THE BOY LIVE!! HES IN LOVE!!
ep 10. THE HARD LAUNCH GOES CRAZY
ep 11. lemme guess, fake boyfriend responsibilities? (written)
ep 12. jeno got me up... plotting
ep 13. AMAZING fake boyfriend
ep 14.
ep 15.
ep 16.
ep 17.
ep 18.
more to come. . .!
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started: 09/06/24 finished:
© JIRSUNGS. ANY TRANSLATIONS/REPOSTS/PUBLISHES OF MY WORKS ON ANY PLATFORM ARE STRICTLY PROHIBITED! ALL COMMENTS, REBLOGS, LIKES, & FEEDBACK ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED! THANK YOU SO MUCH! I LOVE YOU, MWA! <3
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ugh-yoongi · 4 days ago
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hi. i would like to request seungcheol (obviously). all i request is enemies-to-lovers. you may do with this what you wish. i leave it up to you to decide exactly how you will ruin my life 😌
tysm for the request my beloved !! he is so enemies to lovers coded i had TEWWW many thoughts (and started three separate wips oops), but here we are. i hope u enjoy this !! can't wait to get the collab fics out of the way so i can torture u further with baseball dk. i picked dodgers hat!cheol just for u. ♡
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— we need to talk
pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader summary: sometimes the only way to win the game is to not play, but sometimes it's not a game at all—sometimes it's four years of emotional build-up with nowhere left to hide. genre: enemies (kinda) w benefits to lovers; frat/university au; smut, angst?, fluff rating: explicit. minors do not interact with this or any of my work. warnings: frat boys. gendered language and insults. swearing. mentions of drugs & drug use (vernon is literally a drug dealer 🤷🏻‍♀️) as well as alcohol. possessive, jealous seungcheol who is extremely down bad and kind of an asshole and would be toxic af irl but is fine in fanfiction probably. this is maybe more "people who used to fuck and started disliking each other along the way bc they can't figure out their feelings" to lovers than enemies. there are very slight, very meaningless mingyu x reader undertones here. jeonghan is a bastard. feelings you think are unrequited but alas! this got softer than i intended oops. smut warnings: seungcheol truly is a man driven to the brink of madness bc of pussy idk what to say. kissing. hair pulling. mentions of masturbation. the dynamics shift in this one a lot, but to be overly cautious i will say dom!cheol and slightly dom!reader undertones that are not implicitly stated or defined. seungcheol uses the term "whore" once, sorry. oral sex (f. receiving). pussy slapping. unprotected sex. if i missed any pls lmk. wordcount: 8k. no i do not know what a drabble is, leave me alone. author's note: title from the song of the same name by waterparks but this was actually brought to you by "i'll never stop" by nsync bc it's their best song and fit the vibes perfectly. anyway, i still do not love writing smut but i am insane over this man so whatever, we persevere. everyone go shower mj in lots of love bc she's the best and deserves it. also everyone say thank u @the-boy-meets-evil for looking over this for me. i did not look at this again after she beta'd it so any mistakes are of my own stupidity. <3
Seungcheol is incensed.
What in the fuck are you thinking, showing up here? Ignoring him, walking by him with nothing more than a brush to the elbow and that sultry, electric gaze? A pair of painted-on jeans and a sheer top?
Who the fuck had invited you?
He looks around the room, gaze heavy under his furrowed brow. Bass thumps in his ears, the music so loud he can feel it in his chest. Still, his feet stay planted on the floor, already sticky with spilled alcohol and god knows what else. He needs to find Vernon—just needs something to get through this very unexpected (and very unpleasant) surprise, take the edge off.
But he can’t see through the sea of people. They’re everywhere, occupying every inch of available space in the house, but he just needs a glimpse of that mop of cornflower blue hair. If he could just—
Instead, he sees a streak of white-blond in his peripheral vision. “Soonyoung!” he calls, grabbing the man by the arm. “Hey, have you seen Vernon?”
Soonyoung stares up at him with glassy, bloodshot eyes, his breath already stinking of alcohol as he shrugs and says, “Dunno, hyung. Think he’s upstairs.”
Fingers still wrapped around his bicep, Seungcheol heaves a sigh. “Go find Jeonghan. He’s on babysitting duty and you’re already fucked.”
“I’m fine,” Soonyoung argues, slurred words giving him away immediately.
Seungcheol scoffs. “Bro, you can barely stand and you reek of shitty vodka. Go drink some water.”
As he sends Soonyoung away, he can feel eyes boring into him, tension wound tight in the center of his back that refuses to dissipate no matter how many times he rolls his shoulders. He turns slowly, already knowing exactly what he’ll find, but knowing does little to stop the hitch of breath as he takes you in.
And he hates it. Fuck, he hates the effect you have on him more than anything.
Hates that he’s still pining after you. Hates that all you have to do is look at him and he’s putty in your hands. Hates that you’re the first person he looks for in a room, the last person on his mind before he falls asleep. Hates you, hates that all of this is unreciprocated, because if Choi Seungcheol is anything, it’s proud. He’s rich, he’s good-looking, he’s pre-law, and the president of this fraternity, for fuck’s sake—he should not be hung up on a girl.
But he’d been doomed from the beginning. Ever since you’d been assigned to him as a challenge to overcome, an impossible task to conquer, he’d been helplessly, pathetically smitten with you.
And fuck if you didn’t know it, too.
So, it’s a game now. A lifetime’s worth of pining for Seungcheol all because his frat was misogynistic and refused to keep up with the times. They’d nodded in your direction and laughed at the confusion on his face, the knot between his brows. Seungcheol couldn’t figure out why his initiation was to fuck a girl, one his brothers wouldn’t even address by name, but when he’d approached you at a party and you’d immediately told him to go fuck himself, he’d figured it out pretty quick.
Call it determination, call it a stubborn streak that refused to quit, but the two of you soon came to a reluctant agreement: you would let Seungcheol lie to his frat, figuring he was attractive enough that people thinking you’d slept together wouldn’t be complete social suicide, and he’d owe you a favor you’d keep in your back pocket for as long as it took to cash in.
Which hadn’t taken long. The stress of finals that first year had gotten to all of you, and it wasn’t long before you were at his door looking for his drug-dealing roommate and a quick fuck.
That was the second time Seungcheol had been doomed to hopeless pining, because once he had you, he knew it’d be impossible to let you go.
Short of outright saying the words, he’d all but told you as much during some alcohol-induced brain shortage junior year. And, in turn, you’d all but laughed in his face.
Right.
Of course.
That was to be expected.
So, you’d continued your… well, whatever this is: quick fucks when both of you were bored or lonely or horny, usually under the influence of something illegal; a mutually tense but beneficial relationship for each of you, because you had been Seungcheol’s initiation and the initiation itself awarded him connections and opportunities. You got a back-up plan. A safe body and warm bed to retreat to when the need arose—one who clearly wanted it to be something more, but was, all things considered, fine with the current arrangement. Didn’t pressure you.
But, as was also to be expected, it was never going to be that simple when feelings got involved. When he started feeling slighted. When he wanted you so bad he ached with it sometimes and it was beneath you to care. Which is why he really, really needs to find Vernon. If he’s going to endure an entire party with you, he’s not going to do it sober.
He takes the steps two at a time, feet stumbling onto the landing as soon as he reaches it. Vernon’s door is the third on the left, and he can hear a separate, distinct bass line from the one booming downstairs that hums louder the closer he gets.
And Vernon knows. Of course he does, because he’s yanking his door open before Seungcheol has even raised a hand to knock, the stench of weed seeping out into the hallway, and all he needs is a quick look at Seungcheol before he pulls the door open wider and says, “Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States of America,” as if he’s speaking into a microphone. When Seungcheol doesn’t react, he awkwardly tacks on, “Hi, hyung. I’m assuming she’s here.”
Seungcheol nods, dumbly, and stands as awkwardly in the center of the room as someone who’s about to ask their roommate for drugs tends to be. “Yeah.” Shoves his hands in the pockets of his overpriced jeans so Vernon can’t see the sheen of sweat.
“You looking for somethin’ specific?” he asks, rifling through the top drawer of a tall dresser. “Like, is this an I’m about to fuck her the rest of the night visit or an I need something to help me forget she doesn’t actually like me visit?”
The words come like a reflex. “Fuck you,” he seethes. Vernon’s not wrong, per se, but he didn’t have to go and just… say it like that.
Vernon just shrugs, one side of his worn-out collar slipping down his shoulder as he does so, and Seungcheol can’t tell if he’s actually dressed for the party or not. “Gonna guess it’s the second one, then.”
Seungcheol scoffs. “Well, it’s not,” he insists, knowing damn well he should let it go, that he’s just digging himself a bigger hole, but the truth sits in the pit of his stomach like lead.
And, really, he knows he just needs to accept it. That little strand of hope hasn’t brought him anything but more pain—allowed him to delude himself into thinking it could be something more, something tangible—and it’s time to let it go.
You don’t want more.
You don’t want the label and the relationship.
You don’t want him.
He knows this, but it still tastes sour in his mouth. Still tastes like the chill of autumn when you’d first showed up at his door all that time ago. Tastes like all the blunts you’ve shared and the liquor from all the parties you’d snuck away in the middle of. Tastes like the sharp notes of your perfume, the ones that’d coat his tongue when he’d kiss down your neck—the same notes that stain his bedsheets.
Mostly, it’s the pitying look Vernon’s giving him that hurts the most. He’s above pity. Doesn’t need it, especially not from Vernon Chwe, but it hurts all the same to be on the receiving end of it.
“Give me whatever you’ve got.”
Vernon’s face quickly morphs into surprised concern. “Uh, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I mean, I’ve got some pretty heavy shit here.”
Heat flares in his belly. The pity was bad enough—now he wants to be patronizing? “Then give me whatever the fuck you think I need,” he snaps. “I don’t care. I don’t have time for this shit.”
“Well, you definitely need to chill,” Vernon mumbles. “You want some dabs?”
“No. Something…” The word feels thick in his mouth. Stronger implies that Seungcheol does heavy drugs, and that’s not true. “Else,” he finally finishes.
Vernon sighs as he continues rifling through the drawer. “Your dad would fucking kill me if I gave you my real heavy shit, so…” He pauses, eyebrows raising in triumph as he finds what he was looking for: a small baggie filled halfway with some nondescript powder. “You want a bump?”
Maybe he should be ashamed at how quickly he agrees, at the urgency and greed with which he grabs the baggie from Vernon’s fingers, but he just needs something. Needs the distraction, the brain fog. He shoves it in his back pocket next to his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”
Vernon wrinkles his nose. “Nah. Consider that one a freebie. No offense, but you’re a real piece of shit when you’re like this.”
The implication only pisses him off more. Seungcheol is loaded—he can afford to pay his drug dealer, thank you very much—but he’s not like anything. “I’m sorry?”
True to his nature, Vernon barely shrugs. “I’ll put it on your tab, hyung,” he says in a way that implies he’s not at all going to do that and is only saying so to get the fraternity president off his back.
Jeonghan (23:12) Better come get your girl. Kim Mingyu’s dick looks like it’s halfway up her ass by now. Jeonghan (23:12) Uh oh! I think I just saw a testicle
Seungcheol stares down at his phone, hands trembling in anger. Of course it’s Mingyu. That pathetic loser has been taking up residence on the subs bench ever since you’d made out with him months ago in an admittedly successful attempt at payback. Seungcheol had hooked up with some downgrade at a party one time and you’d gone and made out with his friend. It was hardly a fair trade.
Seungcheol (23:14) Good for Mingyu, he can deal with her then Seungcheol (23:14) I’m busy Jeonghan (23:14) Doing what? Jerking off in the upstairs bathroom again? Jeonghan (23:15) Do you know what size condom he wears btw? Looks like I might need to fetch him one if you don’t want to take care of another man’s baby Jeonghan (23:16) Although, to be fair, you might want to sit this one out. He has way better bone structure than you. Might be a blessing in disguise Seungcheol (23:16) Fuck you Jeonghan (23:16) Better be nice to me, Choi Seungcheolie~ that might be the only fuck you get tonight
Seungcheol needs better friends. He needs a lot of things, really, but number one on his to-do list is to never let Jeonghan be on babysitting duty ever again. Somehow he’d forgotten how obnoxious Yoon Jeonghan is when he isn’t stoned and half-asleep on a couch somewhere.
For now, he just stomps down the hallway; locks himself in his room and doesn’t bother to turn on the light. He’s not going to be here long. Just enough time to do this line, change his t-shirt, and come up with a game plan, because he’s not going to let Mingyu even entertain the thought of being able to have you but he also can’t appear desperate. Not just to you, but to everyone else. Choi Seungcheol is not clingy, especially not over a girl.
Especially especially over a girl who doesn’t even want him like that.
But the longer he sits in the dark, the more trouble he has finding his resolve. Can’t bring himself to dig that baggie out of his pocket. Can’t drag his t-shirt over his head. Can’t bring himself to think about anything other than Mingyu’s hands all over you, and fuck, does that image drive him insane.
Does he touch you like Seungcheol does?
Does he coax those same jagged whimpers from your mouth like Seungcheol does?
Does his semi-hard cock feel as good pressed against you?
God, he’s so fucked. Utterly and completely fucked. And he wonders if this would be as bad if he’d just kept his mouth shut, took that secret to his grave instead of fooling himself into thinking it could be more. If it wouldn’t have devolved into… this. You’d always told him not to get attached, that sex was just sex and there was no need to ruin a good thing. But Seungcheol is a selfish man, always has been, and what if? is a dangerous question.
Jeonghan (23:36) Wow, you’re a fucking pussy. Stop hiding in your room like a little bitch. Seungcheol (23:36) Fuck off
He can’t go down there. Not because he’s a coward, but because he’s barely tethered to his sanity as it is. Something about you brings him out of his mind, makes him toss whatever good judgment he has left to the wind. Seungcheol is far too impulsive when it comes to you, reckless in ways that have all twenty years of his social training weeping in a corner; have alarm bells ringing in his brain. So, no, he can’t go downstairs right now because he knows he’ll do something stupid. Stick not only his foot but his entire lower body in it. He should’ve listened, yet here he is, dick pulled halfway out of his jeans because the thought of you alone gets him hard but his pride won’t let him jerk off to the image of anyone touching you that’s not him.
Forget whatever Jeonghan had called him. He’s a fucking fool. A moonstruck, delusional fool who’d tricked himself into thinking he could swim when he can barely tread water.
You (23:41) Something wrong?
Oh, here we fucking go, he thinks. Because this is Seungcheol’s game—one he’d perfected years ago, the one where he’s coy and chilly, never too eager, never committed. Just a little bit of a tease. Barely enough to keep them on the hook, a little needy; still enough to keep them coming back. But you’d taken one look at him all those years ago and had him pegged immediately. Figured out his game and learned the rules, used them against him. Now you watch him flounder with a smile on your face.
Seungcheol (23:42) Never knew you were so needy baby. First you show up uninvited and now youre missing me?
But just because there’s now a player two doesn’t mean he’s doomed to lose. He knows how you look when you’re on your knees for him. Knows how you sound when you’re begging to cum and stuttering out his name like you’re singing hymns. Knows how you look with your eyes rolled back after he’s fucked you dumb. Kim Mingyu doesn’t know shit.
Seungcheol knows he’s the only one fortunate enough to experience you like this.
And god does it kill him.
You (23:44) Don’t act stupid
A pleased exhale of laughter, an equally-smug smirk. Yeah, this is still Seungcheol’s game, the crown still sitting atop his head. You can let Mingyu grind his dick against you all you want, but Seungcheol is still the one you’re seeking out, pouting at the fact he hasn’t come to find you yet.
You (23:44) Mingyu invited me
Oh, you’re good—know just which buttons to press and how much pressure to use. Whatever smug expression Seungcheol had been wearing slides off his face immediately, tongue pressing into his cheek.
Seungcheol (23:46) And yet youre looking for me? You (23:47) Don’t have to look for you to know you’re upstairs sulking in your room because Jeonghan tattled on me like a fucking five year old Seungcheol (23:49) Maybe you should come up here then Seungcheol (23:49) Away from prying eyes
You don’t reply immediately. It’s just long enough for Seungcheol’s brain to conjure up something indecent—the way you’ll straddle him, the way his cock will feel pressed against the apex of your thighs; the goosebumps that’ll raise on his arms when you work your tongue along his neck, that spot near his collarbone you know he likes. His cock throbs against the confines of his jeans when he thinks about the devastated look on Mingyu’s face when you make up some excuse to get away from him, to traipse up the stairs and fall into Seungcheol’s bed, when he realizes he’s not going to have you.
You (23:56) It’d be pretty rude to leave my date, don’t you think? You (23:57) If you want me so bad, come down here and get me yourself
Seungcheol doesn’t play games; doesn’t compete because he has no competition. He’s always been given whatever he wants on a silver platter, no questions asked, so he’s wholly unprepared for this turn of events. What he knows he should do (respond to your text and tell you to fuck off, that you know where he is should you stop being a brat and change your mind) is not what he does (tucks his dick back in his jeans, finally throws on a clean t-shirt, and takes his time descending the stairs so he doesn’t look too eager), because logical thought gets tossed out the window entirely wherever you’re concerned.
“Ah, if it isn’t our resident pissbaby making his grand re-entrance.”
Seungcheol clenches his jaw for the nth time and glares. “Fuck off, Jeonghan.”
The man in question laughs—the annoying raspy one that grates on Seungcheol’s nerves—and hands over a cup of something brown and pungent. “Well, judging from your attitude, and the fact you’re barely hiding that boner you’ve got, you clearly didn’t spend your time away jerking off. What finally got you down here, the promise of cheap whiskey I nicked off some freshman or the fact that your girlfriend’s about two seconds from getting a public indecency charge courtesy of Kim Mingyu?”
Well. Jeonghan may be an asshole but he’s not wrong. Even through the crowd of people and the haze of whatever’s in his cup and a contact high, Seungcheol spots you immediately. Your back is pressed against Mingyu’s chest, his fingers gripping tight at your waist as you roll your hips in time with his. Whatever manufactured filth he’s whispering to you draws a smile, causes you to reach up and tug sharply at his hair. Fuck, Seungcheol can almost hear Mingyu’s moan from across the room, and his blood quickly heats to a rapid boil.
Another chuckle from the demon beside him. “Stop fucking laughing,” Seungcheol snaps, still unable to take his eyes off of you. “Fuck this. I’m going back upstairs. Make sure everyone’s out of here by three. I’m not paying for another noise citation.”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “I’m absolutely not going to do that.” He shoves a bottle of something in Seungcheol’s hand. “Take this and think of me when you’re crying yourself to sleep because Mingyu stole guaranteed pussy right out of your hands.”
“Why do you do this?” Seungcheol asks, shoving at Jeonghan’s shoulder roughly. “You never know when to fucking quit.”
Another streak of white-blond. “Hey, no fighting!” Soonyoung slurs, trying his best to push Seungcheol to the other side of the kitchen with his useless, limp arms.
This attracts the attention of Joshua, who struts into the room looking straight out of Fashion Week, much like he always does. He hasn’t even broken a sweat. “Aw, are Mom and Dad fighting again?” he asks, his lips tugged into a smirk. He ignores Seungcheol’s scowl as he fixes himself a drink. “You know Mingyu only does it to get a reaction out of you,” Joshua adds, quieter this time, as if he’s telling Seungcheol a secret only meant for the two of them to share.
“What’s her excuse, then?” Seungcheol fires back, because even if he doesn’t like it, Joshua’s right. This is exactly the kind of behavior he’d expect from resident campus whore Kim Mingyu, but he never expected you to go along with it.
Joshua cocks an eyebrow. “She doesn’t need an excuse, Cheol. She’s not your girl.”
Even though it’s a truth he already knows, it somehow hurts worse being spoken in plaintext, a hushed conversation in a crowded kitchen. Being let down gently. Seungcheol knows he needs to make a decision. He needs to let you go and start moving on with his life; can’t be having these quasi-meltdowns during frat parties anymore. Can’t be possessive and spiteful. You don’t want him. Everyone knows you don’t want him, so that’s all there is to it. Maybe you’ll want Mingyu and he can finally wash his hands of this forever, scrape the jealousy off his tongue.
He steels himself. Rolls his shoulders back, cracks his neck. Navigates the crowd in the living room until he reaches you and your so-called date. Grabs you by the elbow—gentle enough that it doesn’t hurt but firm enough to send a message—and says the two of you need to talk. Upstairs. Now. Mingyu just smiles like he knew this was coming and presses a pointless, wasted kiss just below your ear. Seungcheol tells him to fuck off, too, and Mingyu grins wider, tongue darting out to wet his lips.
As he guides you to his room, he doesn’t think about the way your hand fits in his. Doesn’t think about how this is going to be the last time he has you. Doesn’t think about who’ll have you after. Doesn’t bother to wonder if you’ve finally changed your mind like he had all those other times he’d walked this same familiar path with you in tow. Because it’s the last time. Whatever happens once it’s over is out of his control.
Perhaps that’s what it’d always been about. Seungcheol has always been spoiled and selfish and so terribly, terribly desperate to prove he’s more than his family name and family money. So, yeah, he’d wanted the control; wanted what was never his for the taking. You’d always been the opposite—his perfect little counterpart. Always so pliant and careless and free: everything Seungcheol tried so hard to be but couldn’t, and that’s where the switch flipped.
Someone like you isn’t meant to be controlled.
What he used to want so badly now tastes rancid in his mouth.
The door locks behind you. Seungcheol doesn’t meet your eye as he says, “You got what you wanted. Are you done being a fucking brat?” It’s not a tone he usually takes. Usually he’s dirty, a little possessive, willing to let you set the pace. He doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches. “I asked you a question.”
“Seungcheol—”
He clicks his tongue, stalks closer until you’re nearly in his grasp. Your eyes close instinctively as if you’re expecting his mouth on yours. Instead, he threads his long fingers in your hair and pulls. “What’s so hard about answering a simple yes or no question? Did you really want Mingyu’s dick so bad you’ve gone dumb all of a sudden?”
You gasp. “No.”
“No what?” Seungcheol chides. “No, you’re not done being a brat? Or no, you weren’t just downstairs acting desperate and pathetic for mediocre cock?” He runs his thumb across the seam of your lips, follows their movements as you speak.
“I wasn’t—”
A low, mocking chuckle. “You were, baby.” Sounds condescending; speaks to you like you’re a stupid child. He’s so close to you now. Can smell the tang of your skin, the sticky notes of your perfume. Feels your breath fan against his own sweat-slick skin. Still avoids your gaze, because as domineering as he appears, he knows he can unravel just as quickly. “Take your clothes off. This is the last time I’m gonna fuck you and I’m not going to ask twice.”
Now you truly look caught off-guard. “What?” Still he ignores you, expensive silver rings clinking into a dish on his dresser one by one, expensive watch following. “What do you mean the last time?”
Deft fingers play at the buttons on his shirt. Not silk, but just as expensive. “Shit. You’re really testing my patience, you know.” You’re still standing at the edge of his bed, staring dumbly as if he’s just going to start spilling all his secrets, give you some kind of explanation. “I believe I told you to strip.”
Unlike Seungcheol, your fingers tremble as they work at buttons and zippers and hemlines, push down denim and remove heels. It’s clear you’re trying to work out what he’s playing at—if this is some punishment for fucking around with Mingyu or if he really means it—but you’re not going to risk asking. Things between the two of you are already tense as it is. Seungcheol has never been wound this tight, never been so ready to snap.
“That’s it,” he praises once you’re left in nothing but a skimpy underwear set you know he likes. “Look at you. Fucking gorgeous. I bet that’s why you think you can get away with embarrassing me, huh?” He grabs your chin, forces you to meet his gaze for the first time since he’d dragged you up here. “Get on your knees. I’m getting tired of repeating myself.”
It’s not an unfamiliar sight—as it is, you usually leave Seungcheol’s room with bruised knees on a good night—but it settles differently in his gut this time. Because he’d dared a glance at you once and knows he can’t do it again, so he watches the top of your head as you fumble with his belt buckle and looks away whenever he thinks you might risk a glance upwards. Finds some point on the wall to focus on. Hisses through his teeth when you pull his cock from his briefs, your hands cold against his flushed skin.
All he wants to do is kiss you. Draw this out. Give you a memorable last time, maybe mark you up a little. He really wants to savor the feeling of your tongue on his cock, but all he can focus on is the fact that he’ll never be enveloped in that wet heat again. He’s never going to feel your mouth working him over, feel you humming around his length because he knows you love the weight of it, you love wrenching away that little bit of control, turning him into a mess.
But he’s not going to dwell. He’s going to thumb at the hinge of your jaw, force it open just wide enough for his cock to fit inside. Then he’s going to fist your hair into a makeshift ponytail, grip it tight, use it to guide your mouth until there’s only an inch of space between you. He’s going to stare down at you, silently revel in how fucked out you look already even though he hasn’t touched you. He’s going to watch the way your fingers dig into your thighs because they can’t touch him. Then he’s going to say—
“Beg me. Beg me to let you suck my cock.”
There’s a flicker of hesitation. Seungcheol doesn’t talk to you like this. This is not the kind of dynamic the two of you have, and Seungcheol finds himself wondering if things would be different if it was. If he’d never started going so easy on you. Would you want him then? Or would you have left a long time ago?
He’s half-expecting you to do that now. You look ready to bolt, to pull your clothes back on and tell him to go fuck himself on the way out. Probably go straight back to Mingyu, let him fuck you hard but routine, the way Seungcheol usually does, the way he knows you like. He expects you to leave, and this is the last time, anyway, so he figures he has nothing left to lose.
“I’m going soft,” he snaps, the admonishment harsh on his tongue. When you look up at him, his jaw is clenched, eyes narrow. “You have one fucking job and you can’t even do that properly? Who’s going to want a dumb little whore that can’t follow simple instructions?”
He watches your eyes squeeze shut involuntarily. Wonders if he’s gone too far before deciding he doesn’t care if he has. It’s the last time, anyway, so it’s not like it matters. Watches the indents in your thighs grow deeper. Watches you inhale and try to steady your breathing.
Watches your eyes snap open, any trace of hesitation long gone. “Did you make that other girl beg for you?”
Seungcheol snorts, amusement showing all over his face. “Is that what this is about? You’re still mad I hooked up with some other girl so you act like this?” He clicks his tongue at you, fists his cock, slicking it up. “Are you jealous?”
“No,” you answer simply, “I’m just trying to figure out why you think you can speak to me however the fuck you want.”
Seungcheol’s hand stutters along his length before it stills, your words sharp and immediate against his skin. He should’ve known. Shouldn’t have thought something like this would work on you, that you’d like it, and he’s halfway to soft and throwing his hands up and tucking his dick back into his briefs when you say, “Answer the question.”
“What?”
You tsk. Move your hands from your thighs to his, nails pressing just deep enough to leave crescent moons behind that match your own. Something for someone else to see. “Did you make her beg for you?”
Seungcheol’s brain power decreases the higher your palms go, when your thumbs press into the dimples of his hips. Can barely choke out a hissed yes, yeah, fu-fuck when your hand covers his, fingers wrapping tightly around his own as you guide it back and forth, up and down the length of his cock. “What did you make her beg for, Cheol?”
“To—to to-touch me.”
You hum. Tighten your grip on Seungcheol’s hand and laugh as his hips roll involuntarily, seeking the friction. “Touch you how? Like this?”
“Yeah—fuck, yes, like this.”
“Did she? Did she listen to you like a good girl?” Your hand leaves Seungcheol’s only to collect the precum at his tip. “Don’t get all shy now, Cheolie.” You suck your thumb into your mouth and he whines. “Was she a good girl for you?”
You sit back on your haunches. Watch him jerk himself off. “Yeah,” he finally says, word cracking in the middle. “Boring, though. Not like—not like you.”
“No one is like me,” you admonish. “I could’ve told you that for free, before you went off and fucked someone else.”
“Not an idiot,” Seungcheol replies, the pace of his hand quickening. He’s playing a dangerous game; approaching the cliff edge at a dangerous pace. “No-nothing comes for free with you.”
All you do is smile, lopsided and smug. “Mm, that’s true. Guess your little dom moment earlier can just be chalked up to momentary stupidity, hm?” Seungcheol wants to nod, wants apologies to tumble from his lips until you shut him up, but his palm is so slick against his dick, fist tight enough to white out his vision. “Did you make her beg to suck your cock?”
Truth be told, Seungcheol can’t remember much of anything right now. He’s perilously close to coming, right at that precipice, and each filthy word that slips from your mouth just pushes him further to the edge. He remembers Chan inviting him to a party. He remembers a few drinks, a few hits from a blunt, compliments of Vernon; he remembers a girl making eyes at him from across the room—eyes that had looked a lot like yours in the haze of his crossfade. He remembers a locked bathroom and the sound of his voice as he told that girl how to touch him so it felt like you. He remembers her doing whatever he told her to, remembers how eager and submissive she was, how she didn’t mouth off to him the way you always do—
Remembers how unsatisfying it’d been when he came.
You’ve ruined him.
Not a revelation. Not even close to one. Seungcheol has known this for a long time, but that doesn’t mean annoyance doesn’t flare in his belly at the reminder. You don’t want him. Being so hung up on you isn’t doing him any favors, just means he’ll have a longer drop when this is all over. God, what the fuck is he doing?
He wants you so badly he’s aflame with it. He wants you so badly he can barely look at you anymore. He wants you so badly it consumes him, drives him insane, has him all fucked up and seething. He wants you, he wants you, he—
Loves.
Reality washes over him like a cold wave. Knocks him backwards, drowning, desperately trying to remember how to breathe. In, out; in, out—and none of it changes a goddamn thing.
Four years of this. Four years of touches exchanged in the dark, behind locked doors. Four years of yearning and trying and failing. Four years of everything getting lost in translation, because it’s hitting him now, but shouldn’t he have felt it before? Shouldn’t all those ‘drive me fuckin’ crazy, can’t fucking stand you’s he spoke into the crook of your neck rang hollow?
“Cheol—” you say, because you asked him something, tried to play along with this whole stupid charade, and he knows he’s frozen, just standing there, hand still wrapped around his cock, and he needs to say something, he needs to fix this—
“I’m a liar,” is what he comes up with. You’re still staring up at him, brows furrowed, pinched in the middle. Move, he wills himself, but nothing happens. “I’m a liar,” he says again, because if he says it enough you’ll believe it. “I’m sorry. I’m—”
“What are you talking about?”
He swallows. I’m in love with you, he wants to say. Feels the weight of the words on his tongue, heavy and pressing, and he thinks you should know. Even if you don’t feel the same, he thinks you deserve to know, but the way you’re looking at him—
He can’t bring himself to say it.
But he can—“Can I show you instead?”
Slowly, you nod. Seungcheol nods, too, still feeling off-kilter as he cradles your face in his hands, thumbs in the contours of your cheeks. Moves them down your neck, your shoulders, down the length of your arms. You meet him halfway, twining your fingers together, and he helps you stand, careful and considerate. At full height, he places a hand in the small of your back to tug you closer, kisses you like it’s the end of the world. Whines into your mouth at your familiar taste, and if he lets himself be delusional enough, he can pretend there’s form and substance to those sounds, that their edges are squared-off to form the words he wants to say.
Because it really might be the end of the world. Seungcheol has never known how to play the cards he’s been dealt when it comes to you. Always gets it wrong. Feints one way when he’s meant to go the other, takes the field with two left feet, always playing catch-up. Maybe the mistake was treating it like a game. Maybe the mistake was strategizing, only playing to win, because he lays you gently on his bed, fits his body in the space you create for him between your legs, and realizes he already won a long time ago.
He won the first time your eyes met. He won the first time he’d kissed you, more nerves and teeth than anything else. He won the first time you tucked yourself against his side and stared at his bedroom ceiling, half-smoked joint between your fingers, and made fun of the stupid flag he’d hung up. He won every time you took all the bullshit he threw at you and dished it right back. He won every time he had the privilege of tracing mindless shapes into your soft skin.
Every second of your time you chose to give him—all victories.
He presses in further. Groans when your hands move to his shoulders and grip tight; when your nails dig into the skin of his back. “I’ve been so stupid,” he says, punctuating his words with a nip at your ear. Smirks out of the corner of his mouth at your shuddering breath. “Haven’t I?”
“Yeah,” you answer, rolling your hips upward. He grabs at you desperately, tries to keep you still; hisses when you swat his hands away and redouble your efforts. “You’ve been a fucking asshole for a—for a while.”
You can’t see the way he pouts. Wonders, too, if that would work on you, if it’d earn him one of those rare moments of tenderness. “Well I’m trying to—shit, baby—trying to make it up to you, but you seem pretty determined to make me bust right now.”
He can see the way you roll your eyes. See the way the corners crinkle after as you laugh softly, breathlessly, still trying to chase a high Seungcheol refuses to provide. “You deserve it. You tried to dom me, you dickhead.”
Embarrassment sits obvious on his ruddy cheeks. He hides his face in the crook of your neck so you don’t see it, don’t have something to poke at him with later, but you’re having none of it. You thread your fingers through his hair and tug gently, forceful enough to have him pliable, and there it is: there are stars in your eyes as you stare up at him, tender and soft just like he hoped you’d look, and he misses the feeling of your nails on your scalp until you’re tugging at the delicate chain around his neck and pulling him closer. “Just kiss me and we’ll call it even.”
This is how it feels to get struck by lightning, he thinks. Every part of him is on fire, and he’s content to burn as his lips find yours. He sighs happily into your mouth, hikes your thigh higher around his middle, presses in to lay claim to what little space is left between you. Seungcheol is so close he can feel the rapid pace of your heartbeat, because this is not the way you usually kiss. What used to be dirty and quick, a means to an end, now has intent, purpose. He’s kissing you like he wants to steal the air from your lungs to replace it with something better.
Trails those same kisses down the length of your body. Open-mouthed at your neck, your collarbones, the space between your breasts. Teasing and slow in the space between each rib, just to watch the way your skin pebbles. Hungry and insistent at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, because if he’s feeling this unhinged, he wants you right there with him. Can’t bear the thought of still being in this alone. Not anymore.
“Legs over my shoulders.” You listen immediately, and Seungcheol mutters a quiet fuck at the sight before him. “God, you’re so wet.”
“No shit—”
He swats at your clit, delighting in the way your body jolts. “Hush. The only thing I wanna hear out of your smart mouth from now on is my fucking name.” And then he’s diving in.
He eats you out like a man starved; like he could do this every day for the rest of his life and he still wouldn’t be satisfied. Can’t help but rut against the mattress at the way you taste, the way your thighs tighten around his head, the sting as you pull at his hair. Places both hands beneath your ass to lift and drag you closer to his waiting mouth—licks at you wet and feverish, all of this seemingly more for him than it is for you, and you’ll get tired of it soon, just like you always do. You’ll tell him—
“Do it right, Cheol, please—”
And he’ll pull away and tsk, swat at you again. His responding laugh will be cocky and derisive when your body trembles again, frantic with the need for more. “What did I say, baby? Do you not trust me to make you come?” You cock an eyebrow, torn between throwing some sarcastic remark at him and following the rules long enough to get what you want. His voice grows serious as he presses a soft kiss to your core. “I will always take care of you.”
The rest is muscle memory.
The rest has a chorus of Cheol, Cheol, Seungcheol spilling from your lips as he suctions his own around your clit. The rest has you grinding your pussy against his face. The rest has him groaning at the way he’s so wholly consumed by you: the taste of you on his tongue, face soaked, two fingers pressed deep into your cunt. The rest has him saying that’s it, baby, come on my face, I know you can and feeling delirious when he finally pushes you over the edge; when your walls clench around his fingers, breathing fractured, when you grab at him until you’re eye-level and you’re licking into his mouth to taste yourself.
Tastes a lot like I love you.
“Want you to ride me,” he says, gaze half-lidded and pleading. You whine as he moves his thumb back to your clit, tracing slow, slow, slow circles, oversensitive. “Will you do that for me?”
The party seems so far away. Grows even further away when you nod and straddle his lap. Seungcheol sits up, tells you to wrap your legs around him. Can’t stand not touching you; needs every inch of his skin to be covered by you like a bruise—something deep that’ll last for days, weeks, months. The mottled colors will change, but it’ll still be there.
“Need you, Cheol,” you whisper, kissing his eyelids. He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes.
“You have me,” he answers, but it sounds foreign to his ears—sounds wretched, like the words have been punched out of him. It sounds like forfeit. “Always have.”
You pull back. Study his face. Run over his plush bottom lip with your thumb. It feels like an eternity of silence before you speak. “No, I haven’t,” you insist, tone insistent but delicate, like you’re trying to convince him of it, too. “Not like this.”
I love you.
You lift your hips just enough to sink down on his cock. Seungcheol’s moan is loud and unabashed, not afraid to let anyone hear the way you make him feel. All he can think is familiar: he knows your blinding white heat; has made countless homes in your tight grip he still holds the keys to; has done this so many goddamn times it’s second nature.
He was an absolute fool to think he could ever walk away.
You roll your hips, taking him deeper like you’ve got something to prove, body moving on its own sinuous accord. Seungcheol loves you like this, when you know exactly what you want and aren’t afraid to take it. When you press sloppy kisses to his neck, the column of his throat. When he grabs at your hips, tries to move you faster along the length of his cock, and you swat his hands away. When your rhythmic up-and-down turns into a slow grind that has you gasping and breathless, pussy spasming around him.
“Goddamn, I love this pussy,” he chokes out, fingers gripping tightly at the sheets since he can’t touch you. He’s mindless with pleasure, feels himself start babbling nonsense he can’t make sense of, and it’s overwhelming, having you like this. Isn’t sure how he’s survived this long, but maybe you were right.
Maybe it was never like this before.
Usually he’d take you from behind, quick and dirty, hands digging into the meat of your ass, palm cracking down on it every now and then, imparting white heat of his own. Usually he’d have you beneath him, knees pressed to your chest, all condescension as you told him, eyes rolled back, that he was too deep, that you couldn’t take it, and he’d rub at your clit and tell you you could as he dragged another orgasm out of you. Usually he’d be so frenzied and worked up he’d take you against the door, sweats pushed to mid-thigh, forearms straining as they held you up.
So, yeah—this is different. This is a patient, sensual dance to the finish line. This is Seungcheol in his rawest form: a live wire, vulnerable, anxious. This is the unknown, because something has to come after but he doesn’t know what it is.
This is Seungcheol throwing caution to the wind, leaning in close enough to taste the salt on your skin, and saying, “I love you.”
This is Seungcheol planting his feet and fucking up into you, unwilling to hear your response. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, but sometimes bliss is just bliss, and he’ll willingly take either.
This is you coming undone on his cock, breathing rapid and ragged, pupils blown wide as you stare at him in awe.
“Say it again.”
Someone slams into the wall just outside Seungcheol’s door, and all at once the real world creeps back in: the thrumming bass line of the music downstairs; laughter, shouting, and yelling; fists banging on shut doors—but he hears you loud and clear. Presses each word into your mouth this time and groans when you swallow them. Barely makes a sound as he spills inside of you, feeling like every nerve in his body is aflame.
The two of you are quiet for a time as you try to catch your breath. Seungcheol only moves to grab his duvet and wrap it around your shoulders, smiling fondly at the small thank you you mumble, seemingly still bogged down, well-fucked.
He presses a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth.
“Okay?”
You nod, push at him until he lays back and pulls you with him, lets you use his firm chest as a pillow. That flag you’d made fun of before isn’t up there anymore, but Seungcheol feels warm at the memory anyway, almost laughs at the comment he imagines you’d make.
Clears his throat. Tries to find his courage. “I really am sorry,” he tells you again, because it doesn’t matter if he loves you if he doesn’t know how to be good at it.
“I know, Cheol,” comes your easy reply. You’re tracing shapes on his stomach that have his muscles contracting. “I know you love me, too.” You sigh, press your lips to his rib cage. “Who knew it’d only take making out with Mingyu to get you to admit it.”
A wild laugh tumbles out of him. “Fuck off.” He can feel your grin.
“You got a fucked up way of showing it, though.”
He hums, holds onto you a little tighter. “Go easy on me, I only figured it out about an hour ago.”
“An hour?” you faux-gasp, make like you’re about to leave. “I’m outta here. I know my worth. If I’m going to say it back to someone, they need to be in love with me for at least two.”
He chokes at the implication, heart threatening to beat right out of his chest and into yours. He knows he looks exactly like the moonstruck, loved-up loser he is, and he coughs to cover it. “That’s what I said,” he lies. “Two hours. You must’ve heard it wrong.”
No, it was never like this.
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moonlightspencie · 11 months ago
Text
tenderly, tragically
Description: Silly, lifelong best-friendship leads to a lot of meaningless teasing. Though, sometimes teasing comes from a place of truth. It’s just that sometimes, those getting teased are the last to know why.
Pairing: Best friend!James Potter x fem!Reader
Warnings: fluff, some angst, smut 18+ (p in v, praise kink, whiny james, size kink, first time for both), drinking, its really idiots to lovers
Word Count: 7.8k (just fluff): 9.4k (smut)
A/N: smut is at the end, and there’s a warning before it starts since it’s kind of like an alternate ending/extra bit. if you JUST want fluff, it ends at a good point for that before the smut starts :) ALSO: as with all of my marauders fics, characters are aged up (19-20)
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“Jamie,” I squeal a laugh, chasing after him.
He laughs, continuing to out-run me. The bastard.
“Not my fault you’re slow,” he calls back. “Catch up, love, or you’ll get caught.”
I run harder, jumping on his back when I get close enough. We both knew he’d slowed down to let me get closer, but neither of us bothered to mention it. He laughed, holding onto my legs as they wrapped around his waist, slowing until he was walking.
“You’re going to get us caught, you know that?”
I snort a laugh. “Please. There wasn’t even anybody there.”
He rolls his eyes playfully, finally dropping me from his back, and instead slinging an arm around my shoulders.
“They could have, though.”
“But they didn’t,” I say pointedly. “Besides, Remus, Peter, and Sirius are still actually in the Slytherin dorms. Lousy look-outs we are because of you.”
He chuckles, walking us towards the stairs.
“They’ll be fine,” he shrugs with a cocky smirk. “Besides, I doubt even most of the Slytherins would object to a little prank on Snivellus.”
I hum, nodding a little. “I guess. Still. You’re a bad friend.”
“You ran too,” he accused, his brow furrowing. “Don’t go and pin all this on me.”
“You told me to run!”
“You didn’t have to listen!”
I scoff, shaking my head. He gives me an irritated look, but pulls me a little closer under his arm. We get into the common room, and without even asking, he starts ushering me to their dorm room.
“Why?” I ask, knowing he knows what I’m asking.
“Sue me for wanting to spend some time with my life-long friend,” he says, quirking a brow.
I push him away from me, but he doesn’t really let me get far. He opens his door, pushing me in first. I immediately flop onto his bed face-first.
“Not complaining now, are you?” he asks, laying next to me.
“Not my fault your bed is so comfy,” I say, my voice muffled by the mattress.
I feel the mattress dip, and look up to see him also turned on his stomach, right next to me.
“If you really wanted to get me alone this bad you could’ve asked,” I say with a wink.
He rolls his eyes, but a smile gives him away.
“Please. I know you’re secretly hoping for it, but we both know that’s never going to happen.”
“Me?” I laugh. “As if. What would I do with a quidditch player?”
He scoffs, an offended look on his face.
“I’ll have you know that I am very desirable, and half of that has to do with the fact I’m the seeker, thank you.”
I roll my eyes. “Uh huh. And what’s the other half?”
“You seen this face?” he asks, a cocky smirk on his lips.
“Unfortunately I have.”
“You’re mean,” he says, a laugh breaking up his attempt to be offended.
He pushes me a bit, but I hardly budge. I laugh at his attempt, but apparently that was the wrong thing to do. He perks up, trying harder to fully push me off the bed, now.
“Hey!” I say in protest, fighting back against him.
He laughs, both of us practically fighting as he keeps trying to push me off. I see an opportunity a moment later and take it: I grab onto one of his arms with both of mine.
“Ha!” I say loudly. “Can’t push me off now unless you also fall off.”
He pauses, then an evil smirk comes onto his face. My face drops as I realize what he’s about to do. He scoots over, dropping both of us onto the ground. I squeal as we fall, and I end up taking the brunt of the fall as he lands on top of me.
“You should never threaten me with a good time. You know I can’t resist,” he says, not bothering to alleviate the pressure of his body pinning me down.
I groan. “You suck. I didn’t think you’d actually push both of us off just to get me.”
“Then you don’t know me very well,” he replies with a quirked brow.
“Please. I know you better than anyone and you know it.”
He opens his mouth to snark back at me, but the door opens before he gets a chance.
“You two are the worst,” Sirius says, clearly out of breath. Then, he scoffs as more footsteps follow behind him. “And look at this! They ran off on us to… Canoodle on the floor.”
I furrow my brow, pulling a face as I try to see him around James.
“Canoodle?” I repeat in disgust.
James finally starts getting off of me, kneeling on the ground next to me as I start pulling myself up. Remus and Peter give us a look.
“We’re not… canoodling, and you can blame Prongs for us ditching. He’s the one who took off running and told me I had to, too.”
Remus quirks a brow at that as Sirius goes to sit on his bed.
“You didn’t have to listen to him,” Peter pipes up.
“That’s what I told her,” James says, giving me a self-satisfied look.
I make a sour face at him, pushing his arm a little. He pushes me back, and I straighten up. Though, Remus must notice that look on me.
“Don’t you two start up again,” he says, pointedly looking between us. “If I have to watch you two flirt any more I might throw up.”
“We’re not flirting,” James grumbles. “She’s just fun to mess with.”
“Mm. And you’re just easy to win a fight against,” I add.
He looks at me quickly. “You didn’t win the last one.”
“Because you pushed us both off the bed!” I exclaim.
“Oh, shut it, you two,” Sirius says, his arm draped over his face. “We’ve been back for three days and you’re already acting up.”
I snort a laugh at Sirius’s annoyance, climbing back onto James’s bed. I sigh with my face in the pillows, feeling him climb over me to get to the other side a second later.
“You got us in trouble,” he whispers.
“Your fault, not mine,” I reply.
“You’re the one who insulted my perfect face.”
“You’re the one who pushed me first,” I argue back.
“Oi!” Sirius calls out again, leaving us both laughing.
Our first few weeks of school go off without a hitch. The boys continue pulling their little pranks, occasionally dragging me along with them. I settle into my space this year, glad to still have Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas as my roommates. We always tended to get along quite well.
I start reading a new book one night, absolutely enraptured with the story, probably even more so considering it’s helping me to avoid the homework that I really should be doing. I get through the first couple chapters before I notice Lily staring at me.
“What is it, Lils?”
“Can I tell you something?” Lily asks suddenly.
She looks around the room, seemingly to make sure the other girls are really gone for whatever she’s about to say.
I look at her over my book. “Sure.”
“Promise not to tell anyone?”
I nod. “Promise.”
She sighs, sitting up a little straighter. “I think I have a thing for someone… Well, for James.”
My eyes widen. “Really? You wanted nothing to do with him a little while ago.”
“I know. I just… I don’t know. Maybe I’m just bored or something, but I’ve been thinking about telling him.”
I nod. “Yeah. You should.”
“Really?” she asks, surprised.
“Why not?”
She smiles to herself. “Yeah. Why not? Do you think he’ll say it back?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe? He did have a crush on you before.”
She hums to herself. I laugh a little, shaking my head.
“I think I’ll do it tomorrow. Better to do it sooner than later, yeah?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” I shrug noncommittally. I really just wanted to get back to my book.
“You don’t even care,” she groans after a moment.
“This is a really good book, Lils,” I laugh.
“Fine. I’ll stop bothering you.”
“Thanks,” I smirk to myself.
She scoffs again, though I know she isn’t really offended. I wish her good luck as we head off to our classes that day, knowing she was planning on telling James sometime in the morning.
I end up finding him later, though I try not to press for answers the second I do. We sit on the grass in the late afternoon, watching some first years play a little quidditch match for fun. It’s uncharacteristically warm outside, and the sun shines down on us. After half an hour of watching the kids play, I glance at James.
“I wanna show you something,” I say suddenly, standing.
James looks up at me in confusion. “I’d prefer not to move.”
I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest.
“It’s a nice day. Sunny and no clouds. Please, just follow me?” I ask, almost whining. “Promise you’ll like it.”
He leans back on his hands. “How do you know?”
“Because I found a secret place in the woods, and you’ll be the first person besides me to see it,” I offer.
He quirks a brow. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Now get up.”
He grumbles to himself as he gets up, following me as we walk towards the woods. I start leading him through the trees towards the destination I had in mind.
“What were you even doing in here? It’s dangerous,” he says quietly.
“I was fine. Just had a long day and wanted to explore. It was in the daytime anyway,” I say matter-of-factly.
He hums to himself, clearly dissatisfied that I went out here by myself. But as I finally lead him to our destination, his annoyance wears off.
“Whoa,” he says, his eyes a little wide.
I smile. “See? Told you it would be worth your while.”
He looks on at the small clearing. There’s a little pond with clear water, the space in the trees allowing some sunlight to reflect on the water. It looks peaceful at least, and nearly-heavenly at best. I look at him expectantly.
“How’d you find this?” he asks, squatting by the water. He dips his hand it. “Whoa. It’s warm.”
I nod, still standing. “I found it when I was exploring, like I said. A few weeks ago. I charmed the water to stay warm, so I’ve been out here two or three times to swim. Thought I’d show you before it gets too cold.”
He smiles, standing up. “You want to go swimming? You didn’t bring any—”
His eyes widen as he finally looks at me. At this point, I’ve already started taking off my robes and my shirt.
“What?” I ask, brows furrowed. “You act like you’ve never been around me getting dressed. We’ve been friends since we were like six years old. Now, hurry up. Faster you get undressed, the faster we get to swim.”
He rolls his eyes at me, begrudgingly taking off his clothes, even though part of him still looks excited that I’d found such a nice little place.
I start wading in once I’m down to my underwear, the water feeling nice and warm in contrast to the slightly-cool air. I hear him come in after me in a moment, and turn to watch him.
“Nice, isn’t it?”
“Can’t believe you were hiding this from me,” he says, hiding a smirk.
“Oh, please,” I reply, floating on my back in the water. “You’re lucky I showed you at all. Nobody else knows about this. You should feel honored.”
I hear him hum and splash around a little, though my eyes are closed. I bask in the warmth of the sunlight on my face.
“Did Lils talk to you today?” I ask after a few minutes of silence.
“Yeah.”
I upright myself, looking at him as he aimlessly walks around in the water.
“And?”
He glances at me, giving a shrug. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” I press, furrowing my brow. “What’s that supposed to mean? What did you guys talk about?”
“I have a feeling you already know,” he snorts a laugh.
I roll my eyes, wading closer to him. “So she told you?”
“Yep.”
“Well, what happened? What did you say?”
He sighs dramatically. “Does it matter?”
I splash him a little. “I’m gonna hear about it no matter what. She’s my roommate. Just wanted to know from you before I see Lily later.”
“Told her I wasn’t interested,” he says quietly, splashing me back a little.
I pause. “Why? You always had a massive crush on her.”
“Not in, like, a year,” he says.
“So you just rejected her?”
“I didn’t reject her,” he furrows his brows, looking away from me. “She told me she liked me, and I just told her I wasn’t into her like that. She didn’t ask me a question, so it wasn’t a rejection. Just being honest.”
I groan. “Jamie, she’s going to kill me. I’m the one who encouraged her to tell you.”
His eyes widened. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“I thought you liked her!”
He pauses for a moment, then splashes me again, this time fully soaking me. I scoff a laugh, in shock as the water hits me. I glare at him, then splash him back just as hard. He starts going on the attack, practically throwing the water at me repeatedly.
“You absolute tosser,” I say, continuing to splash back, though I can’t help but laugh.
I start backing up as we both continue, now laughing and barely able to see with how rapid-fire we’re going. Eventually, I turn and start running for the shore as much as I can while being chest-deep in water. I squeal as I hear him closing in on me.
“No, no, no,” I laugh, getting closer and closer to safety.
“Should’ve thought about trying to run a little harder, love,” James says back, still giggling to himself.
He catches up to me when the water is finally below my hips, and grabs around the waist, pulling both of us backwards. The water goes over our heads for a moment, and I gasp out a laugh as we emerge again. He sits us up in the pond.
I turn in his arms, smacking him lightly on the chest. “You’re awful!”
“You love me,” he smiles brightly, still sitting on the ground in the shallow water. He pulls me in a little closer. “You’re just mad that I won.”
“Still can’t believe you said you didn’t like her,” I say, brushing some of his wet curls away from his eyes.
“Not gonna lie to the girl,” he shrugs, swatting away my hand.
“Still. I thought for sure you’d be excited.”
“Hm. I don’t know. Maybe a couple years ago, but not anymore.”
“At this point I’m convinced you’re driving girls away on purpose. When was the last time you dated someone?” I laugh.
He looks at me, mockingly offended. “Excuse me?”
“What?” I exclaim, still laughing. “Last girl I remember seeing you with was some Ravenclaw a few quidditch wins ago, and even then, you were just sucking face because you were drunk.”
He finally pushes me away from him, trying to hide a smile. I chuckle, gaining my bearings, and finally landing comfortably on my knees in the water a foot away from him.
“You wouldn’t be so offended if I were wrong,” I tease.
“Yeah? And when’s the last time you dated somebody?”
I scoff. “You scare off every boy who tries to ask me out.”
“Cause they’re all ridiculous,” he states, making a face. “Are you seriously telling me you wanted to go out with that Johnny kid from Hufflepuff?”
I smirk. “Touché. But still, it’s not my fault I’m not dating anyone. You, on the other hand…”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he quirks a brow.
“You’ve got all kinds of girls chasing after you. What’s your excuse?”
He pauses for a moment, then smirks. “Who else would waste all their time with you if I were too busy with some girl? You’d be all alone. I’m doing you a service by staying single.”
“Please. You and that ego, I swear,” I shake my head. “I have plenty of friends outside of you.”
“I’m the best one, though,” he says, a brow raised with a cocky smile.
I make a face, then splash him once more for good measure.
“That’s it,” he mumbles, tackling me.
I yell a little with a laugh as his arm wraps around my back and drops me onto the bank where the water was scarce. I keep my head propped up as much as I can, though the rest of me is still covered in a little bit of water. It doesn’t help that James is pressing me into the ground.
“Admit it. I am the single greatest person you’ve ever met.”
I laugh again. “In your dreams.”
“Not letting you up until you admit it.”
“Guess we’re stuck here forever, then,” I argue back.
“Guess so,” he says plainly, dropping his full weight on me. I groan, my breath getting squeezed from me. “Best to make myself comfortable, then.”
“You’re so heavy,” I whine.
He chuckles, just quietly observing me for a moment. I tilt my head in question as he doesn’t snark back. He swallows, a small smile still on his face, but a little bit of color now in his cheeks. My eyes widen a little bit.
“Jamie—”
He doesn’t give me a chance to get anything else out, his lips pressing to mine softly. I freeze, in shock at the sudden change of circumstance. My best friend is kissing me. He stays there for a moment, and only pulls away when he realizes I wasn’t kissing him back, his cheeks taking on a deeper shade.
“I’m sorry, I don’t…” he shakes his head, looking at me with his lips still parted. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”
He gets off of me quickly, getting out of the pond and back to where we left our clothes. He casts a drying spell on himself and starts getting dressed. Meanwhile, I’m still in the water, feeling like I’m stuck. I swallow with a dry throat, turning to see him starting to pull on his pants. I finally get up, quickly moving towards him.
“Jamie—“
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that,” he shakes his head, not looking at me.
I let out a frustrated groan. “We have to talk about that, James.”
“Not right now. Just,” he sighs, looking at me quickly. He takes out his wand again, casting that same drying spell on me. “Get dressed. We don’t want to miss dinner.”
I stare at him for a moment as he continues putting his clothes on, then finally move to get mine on. We finish getting dressed in an uncomfortable silence, that kiss playing on repeat in my mind. Why would he do that?
I look at him when I’m done to see him staring at his shoes, his hands shoved in his pockets. I walk nearer to him, though he takes half a step back when he notices. I furrow my brow.
“Don’t start that.”
“Start what?” he asks, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.
“Pulling away from me,” I say, grabbing his arm and tugging him closer to me. “I don’t know what just happened, but I’m not going to lose you as a friend all because you—”
“I’m not pulling away from you,” he rolls his eyes. “I just— I don’t want to… I’m embarrassed. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You don’t need to be embarrassed.”
He scoffs. “Right, because there’s nothing embarrassing about trying to kiss your best friend while she looks at you like you’re crazy.”
I sigh. “I just didn’t know what was happening. You’ve never done anything like that before.”
He looks away, chewing at his lip. “Can we just forget about it? I really don’t… I didn’t mean to.”
I fall quiet for a minute, trying to gather my thoughts, but they’re all seeming to escape me. I let go of his arm, taking in a deep breath.
“You know I love you, right?” I ask.
He nods. “Yeah. I know.”
“Okay. Yeah, we can forget about it,” I nod. “You want to go get dinner, then? I heard a rumor they’ll have those apple tarts you like.”
He looks at me, smiling a little bit. “Yeah?”
I nod again, smiling back. “Would I lie?”
He chuckles a little, nodding towards the way we came into the woods. I start leading the way back out until we see the castle again. He catches up to me at that point.
“Sorry again,” he says quietly.
“About what?” I ask, raising a brow. “All I remember is us swimming around. Unless you’re apologizing for tackling me in the pond, in which case, you’re forgiven only if you get me some chocolate frogs next time we’re in Hogsmeade.”
He smiles a little. “Yeah. Promise I will.”
“Good,” I say, knocking into his shoulder a little.
He nudges me back. Of course. I go a little harder the next time I knock into him, until we’re both practically pushing one another over as we head towards the castle. He gives me a particularly hard shove, barely catching me by the arm before I actually fall to the ground. We’re out of breath from laughing when we finally get to the castle, feeling wonderfully back to normal by the time we reach the Great Hall.
We walk up to the marauders, taking our usual seat across from the three boys.
“Hey,” I greet.
“Where were you two for the past hour?” Sirius asks with a quirked brow.
I snort a laugh. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I would, considering we saw you wander off into the forest,” he says, leaning forward on his arms with a smirk.
I roll my eyes. “None of your business.”
“Always so secretive,” Remus says, stabbing a few potatoes on his fork before looking between us.
I glance at James who laughs as soon as we make eye contact. Though, I also catch another pair of eyes when I turn towards him, and wince a little. Lily looks at me with her brows furrowed from a little ways down the table. I shrug at her, unsure why she looks upset with me. She rolls her eyes, going back to her conversation with Dorcas. I sigh.
“Great. Now Lily’s mad at me because you had to go and turn her down,” I say to James.
Peter laughs. “He turned her down?”
“When did this happen?” Remus asks, looking much more curious now.
“You need to learn how to shut it,” James says to me, his voice a little high as he shakes his head.
“They would’ve found out anyways,” I say, barely feeling sorry at all.
I hold back from chuckling as James is pelted with questions from the boys, focusing more on my food and trying to ignore the occasional sour glance I get from Lily.
Though, I couldn’t escape her forever.
I walked into my room after a night of sitting around with the boys and Marlene in the common room. I thought I would be going to bed and falling asleep, but clearly it was wishful thinking. Lily stared at me from her bed as Marlene and I shut the door behind us.
I raised a brow. “Hi?”
Marlene looked between us, excusing herself to take a shower. The traitor.
“What the hell?” Lily said, crossing her arms.
“Yeah, what the hell? Why have you been giving me sour looks all day?”
She scoffed. “You told me to tell him, and you know what he did? Oh. Wait, of course you know. Because of course he already told you. Because of course—”
“Oh my god, Lily,” I roll my eyes, going to sit on my bed next to hers. “I’m sorry that I was wrong about how he’d react, but I had no clue. I thought he still had a thing for you.”
She huffs a sigh. “I should’ve known you were setting me up. What, do you like to see me embarrassed?”
“If I did, I would’ve gone along to watch it happen,” I say, annoyed at her attitude. “Sorry I was wrong, but I didn’t know. And you said you wanted to tell him, anyways.”
“You don’t seem to be that sorry considering you were back to hanging around him again all day.”
“He’s my best friend, Lily. I’m not going to ditch him because he didn’t have feelings for you,” I say, shaking my head.
She stands up suddenly. “Well, maybe you should. Maybe if you weren’t like… In love with him, you’d be a better friend to me.”
I stare at her in annoyance. “You need to get a grip. I wouldn’t have encouraged you to try telling him if I was ‘in love’ with him. We’re friends. You’re being insane.”
“Well, clearly he at least has feelings for you!”
I furrow my brow. “Excuse me?”
“Why else would he reject me?”
I laugh against my better judgement. “Are you serious? One boy doesn’t like you, so it just has to be because he’s in love with someone else? Lily, I love you, but that is the most egotistical thing you’ve ever said.”
“But you’re not denying it.”
“James isn’t in love with me. Have you considered that he just doesn’t like you anymore? It happens. People move on,” I say, sighing. “Just… Go to bed, Lily. This is a ridiculous and pointless argument.”
I lay back on my bed, closing my eyes while I wait to get into the bathroom. I hear Lily mutter something under her breath, but choose to ignore it. The more she got angry with me, the less I cared that she got her feelings hurt. I didn’t want to be unsympathetic, but it was getting hard to be concerned when I was blamed for a boy not liking her. Obviously James didn’t like me.
Obviously.
I think.
He did kiss me.
I open my eyes, staring at the ceiling for a moment. James didn’t like me, did he? He’d never shown interest in me before. That kiss probably just happened because he was confused. He wanted to forget about it, anyways, so clearly that had to mean he didn’t mean it. And I didn’t feel that way about him anyways, so it didn’t matter.
Except, I did feel my heart pound a little differently when he looked at me before the kiss.
I didn’t hate the way his lips felt.
Seeing him smile at me on the walk back did give me a few butterflies.
But, no. That’s nothing. He’s my best friend, I wouldn’t suddenly start feeling that way about him. I couldn’t. It’d be ridiculous.
It’s not like I’d spend the rest of the night thinking about him. Except that I did. A lot.
I woke up the next morning, feeling like I was going insane. I’d never felt that way about him before. Of course, I always though he was attractive. How could anybody look at him and not think he was gorgeous? But there was never anything more besides friendship. So why could I not stop thinking about him?
My eyes feel heavy as I sit in my last class of the day, James trying repeatedly to mess with me throughout the class. With five minutes left, he leans in closer. Since when did he start smelling so good?
“Hey,” he says quietly, drawing my attention. “What’s wrong? You’re not getting mad at me.”
“Just tired, Jamie,” I shrug, staring at the notes on the chalkboard that I haven’t copied down.
“That’s a lie. I can tell.”
I sigh. “Have you ever… Has anyone ever told you something about yourself that you thought wasn’t true, and then… And then you realize they might be right?”
He furrows his brows. “How do you mean?”
“I don’t know. Like, let’s say someone tells you that you like strawberries, when you’ve never liked strawberries. But then you think about every time you’ve had a strawberry, and you realize that you actually really did like strawberries. A lot more than you thought you did. Like… you realize strawberries are your favorite fruit.”
He stares with a confused look, tilting his head. He reaches up, pressing the back of his hand to my forehead.
“Are you feeling alright?”
I lean away from him, rolling my eyes. “Cut it out.”
He smiles, nudging me slightly. “Can’t say I’ve had that experience, no.”
I groan. “This sucks.”
“Why can’t you just tell me what actually happened?” he asks. He pouts. “Please?”
I smile at him, trying hard to be annoyed, but finding it difficult. God, I’m in trouble.
“I just can’t. It’s… private.”
“You never keep secrets from me.”
“I don’t even know what secret I’m keeping just yet,” I sigh, resting my chin in my hand. “I feel like I’m going crazy.”
“Aw,” he coos. “You say that like you aren’t already.”
I push him, laughing softly, though we both straighten up when the professor reprimands us. We give a quick apology, still smirking at each other the next time we catch one another’s eye.
The next days pass by in a blur as I come to terms with what I’ve been feeling. It doesn’t help that I couldn’t talk to anyone, especially since Lily was still mad at me. Now, though, I couldn’t blame her as much. She somehow realized I was into him before I did.
“Hey,” Remus says, coming up to me as I sit in the common room. “It’s late. Why are you still here?”
“Why are you?”
He shrugs, sitting next to me. “Can’t sleep. Moon’s coming in a couple days.”
I hum in acknowledgement. “Gotcha.”
He settles into the couch, crossing his arms over his chest. He looks sideways at me as I stare into the fire.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Cause I can’t tell anybody.”
He scoffs. “That’s ridiculous. You’ve been off for days. James keeps complaining about how you’re not spending time with him as much.”
I shake my head, not responding.
“You need to talk to someone about this.”
“Can’t.”
“Bullshit.”
I look at him. “Seriously. I can’t talk to Jamie about it, Lily’s still mad at me, and Marls and Dorcas are too gossipy.”
“You can talk to me,” he shrugs.
“You wouldn’t get it, though.”
“Try me.”
I let out a breath. “You have to promise this stays a secret.”
He nods. “Promise.”
“Okay,” I say under my breath. “Okay. So, um, Lily got really mad at me the other day because of the whole…. Confession thing. And I didn’t understand why, and she started accusing me of things, and obviously I disagreed… But then something she said kind of stuck with me.”
“She’s just mad. Don’t listen to her,” Remus says, shaking his head. “You know how she gets when she’s in one of those moods.”
“But I think she was kind of right,” I sigh. “That’s the problem. She thinks… She told me she thought I was into James. And not like friends, like really into him.”
Remus’s eyes widen a little. “And… are you?”
“I’ve been thinking about it for the past week, and… I think I might be.”
“Whoa. I know we always tease you two for how close you are, but I never thought you…”
“I know,” I groan, my face in my hands. “And I know I haven’t been hanging out with him as much as usual because of it, but I don’t know what to do. How do you tell your best friend that you suddenly realized you’re in love with him?”
He doesn’t answer, just reaches over and gives me a hug. I accept it, sighing a little.
Our next week goes over just like that. I don’t avoid James by any means, but I try not to always be alone with him. I do find more opportunities to talk with Remus about it all, though, and it helps. Just to have someone to listen to me as I complain about my feelings. I do the same for him when he has troubles, though mine seem silly in comparison. He always tells me not to compare, though.
Unfortunately, though, as much as those chats help me process my feelings, they don’t help me get over those feelings at all. If anything, they only grow the more I think about James.
It’s super annoying.
Even more annoying is Lily’s smug look when I tell her about my feelings for James. I expected her to be mad at me, but she did something worse: she laughed at me.
“I knew it!”
“How? I didn’t know!”
“Because you are so obvious,” she shakes her head.
I scoff. “I’m clearly not that obvious or else you wouldn’t have told me you had a crush on him.”
“Alright. Fair enough,” she quirks a brow. “But still.”
I roll my eyes, walking over to hug her.
“Sorry about that. If I knew I had a crush on him I wouldn’t have told you to go for him.”
“Sorry back,” she says. “Shouldn’t have gotten mad at you that he told me no.”
“I agree,” I laugh.
She whacks me in the arm, laughing back.
I try to go about my life as usual over the next couple of weeks. There’s no sense in making myself miserable or drawing attention to my small shift in behavior. I find myself still doing most of the same things I always did. Just a bit more carefully.
I sit with the boys at dinner, laughing at their stupid jokes and the plans they have for pranks. I finish my food, pushing the plate away from me, and listening in on a conversation being had between Sirius, Remus, and Peter.
“You know, those three plan on being out all night,” James says quietly, leaning close to me as he watches the three boys talk.
I raise a brow. “Yeah? Doing what?”
“They wanted to just be out of the castle for the night. Think Sirius and Remus are going to the shrieking shack, and Peter is sneaking out to go meet up with some other friends in Hogsmeade, I guess.”
“And you aren’t running off?”
He shakes his head. “Told them I’d stay behind. Thought me and you could have a sleepover. Like old times.”
I chuckle. “It has been a while.”
“I think close to a year. They’re always in my space,” he says, feigning annoyance. “But it’ll just be us tonight, if you want.”
I push down whatever feeling rises in my chest at that and agree, despite my better judgement.
He pulls me into his room that night, immediately going to the foot of his bed, looking at me like he’s about to change my life.
“I brought something a little… fun,” he smiles, opening up his trunk to show me his secret stash of drinks. “Thought we might finally crack it open.”
I laugh. “And you didn’t think to tell me sooner?”
“Hey, we’ve had plenty at the Gryffindor events,” he smiles. “This is just for us. Our secret.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m the greatest.”
We find ourselves on his floor after a few drinks, feeling fuzzy and happy. We talk about nothing for hours, occasionally passing a bottle between us.
“Maybe we should do this more often,” he says, smiling up at the ceiling. “I miss spending time with you like this.”
“We’re always together.”
“You spend a lot of time with Moony lately. Not fair, I want you all to myself,” he chuckles, poking my side.
I laugh, poking him back. “I’m still all yours. Love Moony so much, but you’re still my favorite I think. Now, if Sirius decided to start hanging around me more, then you’d be in trouble.”
He giggles, his cheeks rosy. I watch him carefully, feeling warm in the face myself, but for a different reason.
“You have a really cute laugh,” I say before I can think about it.
He looks at me with a smile, his tongue poking out between his teeth. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I nod.
“You’ve never told me that before.”
I shrug. “I should’ve.”
He stares back at me for a moment, giving me a little silly smile. He leans over me, propping himself up with his forehead next to my head. He leans down, much like he did that day we went swimming. But this time I kiss him back. My hand finds his cheek, holding him gently as I let him work his lips against mine. I can’t deny the warmth that spreads over me or the butterflies I feel this time.
This time it lasts for a few minutes, neither of us bothering to pull away. Whether that’s because he actually likes it or because we’re both drunk and don’t know any better, I don’t know. I also don’t care.
He finally pulls away after a little while, still giving me that smile as if he didn’t just take all the air in my lungs away from me.
“We can pretend that one didn’t happen, either,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.
I nod, unsure what to say. I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen, but I couldn’t tell him that without outing myself. I settle for the way his hand mindlessly reaches for mine as we go back into conversation like nothing ever interrupted us in the first place. Eventually, we move to his bed, preferring the softness of the mattress and pillows over the hard ground.
“Can I ask why you’ve been spending all your time with Remus?” he asks during a lull in the conversation, playing with my fingers as he does.
“Just became better friends recently, I guess,” I say, glancing at him. I admire his face for a moment before snapping out of it. “Some stuff I can talk to him about that I haven’t been able to tell anyone else. It’s been nice to have someone to listen.”
“I could do that for you. You didn’t have to go to him.”
“Not this time, Jamie. It’s… different.”
“How?”
“It just is,” I sigh. “I’ve had too much to drink for us to be having this conversation, James.”
He whines. “Please? I just want to know.”
“No. Maybe I’ll tell you someday, but not now.”
He grumbles, turning over and resting his head on my chest. His arm rests over my stomach. I just hope and pray he doesn’t feel how hard my heart starts beating when he does.
“Play with my hair?” he asks, his voice a little muffled.
“Okay,” I reply softly, running my fingers through his messy hair. “This okay?”
He nods a little. “Mhm. Thanks.”
We don’t wake up until the next morning, still stuck in that same position.
I find myself with Remus again the following night. I sit on a chair, and he lounges on the couch, trying not to judge me for putting myself in that situation. I don’t tell him about the kiss, but he hears about everything else.
“You can’t keep doing this to yourself,” he says after a beat of silence when I finish explaining. “You either need to tell him, or put some distance between you.”
“I tried that today.”
“I know,” he rolls his eyes. “It’s all James could talk about. Complaining the whole day that you weren’t eating with us or not going to the library when we were.”
“See? I feel like nothing I do is right in this situation,” I say, feeling defeated. “Like, how am I supposed to keep spending time with him like everything’s normal when I’m practically floating every time he so much as looks at me. It’s pathetic. And I can’t just ignore him, cause then he goes and bugs you all.”
“Maybe you just need to—”
“Hey,” James’s voice calls from behind us.
I look at him, noticing the annoyed look on his face. It doesn’t seem like he’s overheard us, but I can’t tell why he looks so irritated. Usually he’d be annoyed if I didn’t bother with them all day, but he looks… mad. I quirk a brow.
“Hey,” I say, confused.
He doesn’t reply, looking a little upset and a little lost. I turn back to Remus after a moment of silence, our conversation effectively being cut short. I stand up quickly.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say to Remus, starting to walk past James in order to get to my room.
“What’s going on?” James asks, grabbing my upper arm.
I turn around quickly. “What?”
He clenches his jaw, then looks at Remus. “Moony, we need a minute.”
Remus goes to argue, but drops it quickly when he sees James looking more serious than he ever has. He gets up, giving me a sympathetic look before he heads towards the boys’ dorms. I glare at James as he hasn’t let go of my arm yet.
“Why did you do that?”
“Why are you with him again?”
I scoff. “You mean our friend? Did you ever think maybe we were talking?”
“That’s the problem,” he says, dropping my arm.
“How is that a problem? I’m going through something and he’s just trying to help—”
He sighs harshly, looking around like he’s lost. He looks back at me with his brows furrowed.
“I don’t get it,” he says, practically whining. “You never keep things from me, and now you’re telling Moony all of your secrets and ditching me for him and… And I don’t understand it. We’re supposed to be best friends.”
“We are, Jamie, there’s just some things that I can’t—”
“Why not?” he swallows, tears starting to prick his eyes. “Why can’t you tell me? You never do this. We tell each other everything.”
I freeze for a moment, my mouth drying up as I look at him. I want to reach out for him and hold him and make him feel better. But I also want answers, because it’s his fault that everything got screwed up. He didn’t have to reject Lily. He didn’t have to kiss me when we were swimming. He didn’t have to do it again on his bedroom floor. He didn’t have to treat me like I was the most important person in his life.
“Then tell me why you kissed me,” I blurt out.
He shakes his head a little. “I don’t know.”
“Then figure it out! You don’t just get to kiss me and then act like you just did it for no reason.”
His chest heaved from his breathing, staring at me. His cheeks tinged pink again as he took a moment.
“I—I just wanted to. I don’t know. You were there and you were looking at me like that and you just…” he huffed a sigh. “I just wanted to kiss you.”
“Why?” I asked, frustrated.
“Because,” he said back, his tone matching mine. “Because I always want to kiss you and I slipped up and did it one time—”
“You did it twice!”
“Okay! Two times,” he exclaims. “We promised we would just forget about it.”
“And what exactly is that even supposed to mean?”
“You’re so fucking oblivious,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes. “God, what do I have to do to make you understand that I’m—”
I wait as he stops talking. “That you’re what?”
“I’m in love with you. I have been forever, and you’ve never cared,” he says, letting out a shuddering breath. “And now you’re spending all of your time with Remus. And it’s so embarrassing that I’m sat here hopelessly in love with my best friend of over ten years while she’s running around with another one of our friends.”
“Running around with him? We sit in the common room and talk because you’re fucking infuriating!”
“Oh, so you’re gossiping about me?” he asks, voice raising as mine does once again.
“Not gossiping, just—”
“Just what?”
“I’m in love with you, too, you fucking tosser!”
He looks angry for a few moments, then it switches to confusion, then shock, and possibly the five stages of grief before he finally lands on raised brows and an open mouth.
“You what?” he exclaims.
“You’re so annoying,” I say, groaning. “Yeah, Lily had to go and tell me I was in love with you, and she always has to be fucking right about everything, doesn’t she?”
“Are you listening to yourself right now?” he asks incredulously, furrowing his brows. “You just told me you loved me.”
“I’m aware, James,” I say, crossing my arms.
“Well… Did you mean it?”
“Obviously,” I say, shaking my head at him like it was a dumb question.
“You’re so dumb,” he says under his breath.
Before I can say anything else, he’s moving forward, his hands on my cheeks as he crashes his lips into mine. I melt into him, this kiss being way more passionate than the one we shared the night before. I hold onto his waist, letting him deepen the kiss, though it only lasts for a minute or two after that.
He pulls away. “You’re infuriating. Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“You didn’t tell me anything, either!”
“I kissed you twice!”
I roll my eyes. “That doesn’t count. You said we should forget about both times.”
“Only cause I thought that’s what you’d want,” he defends, making an annoyed face.
I try to be angry, but it’s a difficult task. I reach up, running a thumb over his furrowed eyebrows.
“So grumpy,” I mutter. “Just told you I was in love with you. You’d think you’d at least try to be happy.”
He scoffs a laugh, pulling me into a hug, his face buried in my neck.
“I’ve never been happier.”
We hear footsteps coming down a few moments later.
“You owe me ten galleons,” Sirius’s voice says.
I look over James’s shoulder as he keeps holding onto me, not caring that our friends are right there.
“You were betting on us?” I ask.
Sirius nods with a smirk. “And Peter just lost. He thought you’d take until the end of the year to get together. I said it’d be in this term.”
“I didn’t bet,” Remus says from behind Sirius, holding his hands up in surrender with a small smile. “Glad you worked it out, though.”
I smile at them, shaking my head and turning my attention back on James again. He looks at me finally.
“I’m glad, too,” he says quietly. “Think I might’ve combusted if I had to keep pretending I didn’t want you like that.”
“Didn’t do a great job at covering for it, though. Still kissed me twice.”
“You say like you didn’t love it,” he smirks with a wink.
————-> SMUT STARTS HERE. 18+ <-————
James finally pulls away, taking my hand in his.
“Good, now that you’re all out the room, if you’ll excuse us…” he says, pulling me past the boys who all groan in disgust.
I giggle as he practically runs to his room with my hand in his, kissing me the second the door is shut and locked. I smile into the kiss, my arms around his neck. He starts kissing my cheek and jaw after a few minutes.
“Hope you’ve been feeling the tension as much as I have, cause I could probably cum in my pants right now if you asked me to,” he says casually, as if it wouldn’t send a wave of arousal down my body.
“Oh my…” I trail off as he bites at my neck softly. “Are we gonna…?”
He pauses, his eyes wide. “Oh. I probably should’ve asked before I assumed, huh?”
He winces a little at his own excitement, cheeks tinged pink.
“Sorry.”
I smile softly. “That’s okay. I— I want to, I just didn’t know if that’s what the plan was.”
He smiles again brightly, kissing me once more. He giggled against my lips, then starts backing me towards the bed.
“I really do love you. Kind of embarrassing, really. I think I have forever,” he says softly, laying me down on the mattress and crawling over me.
I let out a soft breath. “Embarrassing for me, I think. I didn’t even realize until someone else told me I did.”
He laughs again, starting to kiss down my neck.
“I kind of always wanted you to be my first time, to be honest,” he says against my skin.
I pause, realizing what’s really happening. “Oh. Oh my god.”
“What?” he asks, leaning up to start unbuttoning my shirt.
“Wait, have you never… You haven’t done this either, have you?”
“Not all the way,” he shakes his head, then looks at me with wide eyes. “Is that okay?”
“That’s okay. I haven’t either. Just… You know. I’ve done some hand stuff but that was it.”
He looks at me again, then starts laughing a little. I find myself laughing right back as reality sets in for both of us.
“We’re gonna take each others virginity,” I say, still laughing a little. “Oh my god.���
He snorts a laugh. “Didn’t wake up this morning thinking this would happen, that’s for certain.”
I smile. “I love you.”
“I love you more,” he teases, dropping a kiss on the tip of my nose.
I watch as he finishes taking off my shirt, getting up just enough to help him pull it and my camisole off completely. He sits back on his knees, staring at me for a moment.
“You alright, Jamie?”
He nods. “Doing great, love.”
He starts taking off his own shirt, then. As many times as I’d seen his arms and chest, you’d think I wouldn’t still feel amazed seeing him in just his trousers… But I couldn’t stop staring, either. He leaned back in, kissing me again. I let my hands run over his arms and back, having free reign to do so and enjoying it. He nipped at my lip, a little noise leaving me and making him smile against my lips. I do the same to him, both of us ending up grinning at each other again.
“This is nice,” I say quietly. “Doing this with you, it’s nice. I like that we don’t feel like we have to act… sexy.”
“Well, that because it’s never an act for me, love,” he winks with a smirk.
I pull him back down with a giggle, though the smile is wiped from my face when he rolls his hips into mine. Feeling him hard for me for the first time leaves me a little breathless, especially when he’s grinding into me. I small groan leaves me when he does it again.
“Like it when you do that,” he says into my ear, doing it again just to get another reaction out of me. “I like those little sounds you make. So pretty.”
I find myself breathing heavily, my hands squeezing between our bodies to start unbuckling his belt. He gets the hint and sits up, pulling it off himself.
“Get out of those, yeah?” he says, nodding at my bottoms as he works himself out of his.
I comply immediately, shimmying out of my trousers and tossing them onto the ground. He gets back on top of me as soon as we’re both one layers closer to what we really want. I let my hand slide into his underwear as he stars kissing at my neck again, letting out a shuddering breath when I finally feel him. He whimpers into my neck as I start stroking him, rutting his hips into my hand.
“Feel so good, love,” he says, voice whiny and desperate.
I groan back, especially as one of his hands slides under the band of my panties to slip a finger into me. I feel myself growing hotter, kissing him and swallowing the moans he lets out as my hand keeps working him over.
“Shit, Jamie,” I moan as he adds a second finger.
“Good for you?” he breathes out.
“Yes,” I say breathlessly. “Yes. Very.”
I whine as he gets me closer to the edge, his hips doing all the work as my hand stopped moving up and down his length. He adds pressure to my clit with his thumb, sending me careening over the edge with praises and his name on my lips.
He pulls his hand away from me suddenly.
“Can’t wait any longer, love,” he says, voice wrecked.
He slides my panties off my legs as I take my bra off. Then, I watch with wide eyes as he pulls his underwear off, his cock bigger than I was expecting by far. I knew he felt big, but seeing him was entirely different.
“Fuck,” I say, staring at him. “Don’t know if I can take that, Jamie.”
“Yeah, you can, love,” he nods, settling between my legs and kissing me softly. “You can take it, baby.”
He pushes himself up just enough for both of us to see him rubbing his head through my slick before prodding at my entrance. He starts pushing in slowly. I let out a loud groan, my eyes shutting.
“Shh, just relax, love,” he says, lips hovering over mine. “You’re doing so good. Taking it so well, baby.”
He whimpers against my lips as he keeps pushing in slowly.
“So big, Jamie,” I moan, watching him disappear inside of me.
“I know, baby,” he says, a few more little noises spilling from his mouth. “I know, but you’re being so good. My good girl.”
He bottoms out, both of us panting and holding onto each other as I adjust to the new feeling. It hurts a little, but not in a bad way. Especially when he starts moving. That bit of pain makes way for a lot of pleasure once he starts rocking into me at a steady pace, whining and moaning into my ear.
“S’good, Jamie. You feel so good,” I say, trying to catch my breath.
“So good for me, baby. Squeezing me nice,” he whines, pinning me down under the weight of his body. “Good girl. So proud of you taking me so well.”
“Gonna cum again,” I say, feeling it building in my stomach again.
“Me too, baby. Just a little more,” he says, pressing his face into my neck again. “Don’t want to be done so soon, but you feel so perfect. You’re so good for me.”
I moan at his ramblings of praise, his words only causing me to get closer to that peak again. I hold onto him tightly, my body wrapped around his as he fucks into me like we’d done it a million times before. I speak his name over and over and over again as I crash down, my eyes rolling back from the intensity of the orgasm, and the fact that he doesn’t stop fucking me through it.
Though, near the end of my peak, he moans out a hundred more praises, my name falling from his lips as I feel him fill me up with his cum. He whimpers again against my skin as he finishes, not stopping the movement of his hips until he’s visibility overstimulated.
We breathe heavily, holding onto one another tightly as we come down from our highs, his hair sticking to his forehead as he leans in to kiss me softly again.
“Holy shit,” he whispers. “You’re perfect.”
I breathe out, a small smile on my face. “You… Yeah. Oh my god. I thought the first time was supposed to be bad.”
“It was perfect for me. But I barely lasted, it couldn’t have been that great for you,” he says, looking a little disappointed that he might not have done a good job for me.
I shake my head. “You still made me come harder than I ever have. You were incredible, Jamie. I mean it.”
He smiles softly. “I’m gonna have to kick them out of here more often. I might be addicted now.”
“And we have more things to try,” I add. “Can’t let this happen only once a week or something. Too much to figure out, I think.”
He giggles again. “Like what?”
“I’d really like you in my mouth next time.”
His smile drops. He starts nodding quickly. “Yes. Yeah, I’ll kick them out at two in the morning if you ask. Whatever you want.”
I laugh, pulling him into another kiss.
“Now, we have to figure out that contraceptive spell, or else we might be in some trouble,” I say with a smile.
“Sorry about that,” he smirks, clearly not sorry. “I’m sure Sirius knows it.”
“Please. As if he isn’t fucking Remus whenever those two run off to the shrieking shack.”
James’s eyes widen. “What?”
I snort a laugh.
“And you called me the oblivious one.”
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its-weeping · 4 months ago
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tsukishima kei | 𝟑:𝟒𝟐 𝐀𝐌.
genre. ᡣ𐭩 fluff, established relationship, timeskip!!, pet names (sweetheart)
˚. ࿔synopsis. you ask your husband to get you a glass of water because you simply don't want to.
notes. it's currently 3:42 as i'm writing this so... anyways im going on vacay in a few days so i won't be able to get any fanfics out in the next two weeks.
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you shift onto your side and face your husband, hesitation clear in your actions. you swallow dry, feeling parched, then give your husband's cheek a gentle poke. once, twice, but the other tsukishima doesn't move.
"psst," you hiss, no dice. "psssttt." you try again, and this time he groans.
a smile stretches across your lips as kei unwillingly stirs awake. he's looking at you now, already annoyed at having been woken up too early in the morning.
"what?" he growls, yet there's no venom in his voice. you swallow again, "can you get me a glass of water?"
your husband blinks down at you, unfazed but not moving from his position.
"kei, please?" you plead, voice barely above a whisper.
the said man grumbles, "sweetheart, you're not a kid. you can get water from the kitchen by yourself."
you know how much kei dislikes getting out of bed when he doesn't have to, but what are husbands for if not to fulfill meaningless tasks from their wives?
you roll your eyes at him, "yeah but the water tastes better when you get it for me."
sure, it was clearly an excuse so you could stay in your warm, comfy sheets, but you consider some of what you were saying to be true.
kei sighs, accepting defeat—and how could he refuse you when you were being so cute for him? he gives your middle a light squeeze before slowly unwrapping his arms around you. you give him a soft thank you, and your husband waves a hand over his shoulder, drawing up a smile from you.
at times like these, when the moonlight illuminates through the sheer curtains, and the air-conditioning hums amidst the silence, and the queen bed is warm and smelling of both your scents, you can't not sigh and appreciate your life as it is.
the domesticity of being able to overhear your husband in the kitchen—your husband, who was a straightforward and sneering man to everyone, was going through the trouble of pouring you a glass of water just because you asked.
the door of your shared bedroom creaks open and kei's silhouette is clear in the dark when you notice.
"here you go, sweetheart." his voice is teasing as he passes you the cup, bed dipping as kei settles his weight on it.
taking a sizable gulp, you give a gasp, "wow, i feel so refreshed. you literally saved me just now."
your husband scoffs softly as he takes the cup from you, said object looking tiny in his hand. you grin at the response. in earnest, you thought kei would be sick of you by now, with the silly requests and annoyance you brought him. but somehow there were subtle signs that always gave away his true feelings.
"what are you thinking about?" your husband asks suddenly.
you shake your head, "nothing, let's go back to sleep."
kei seems sceptical but nods nonetheless, and soon he tucks you both under the covers. he's snaking his arms around you to keep you in his embrace, to keep you close. and you're pressed against his chest, catching the scent of his cologne as you breath in. kei's free hand is playing with a strand of your hair absentmindedly and you can't help but snuggle closer to him.
"kei," you mumble into his shirt and he hums, "i love you."
"..i love you too, sweetheart."
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product of its-weeping ;༊ | do not plagiarize or translate.
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starsinthesky5 · 7 days ago
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trick or treat* || joe burrow x reader
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description: he was always Mr. Anti Halloween, but for you? for you, he'd do anything. even if that meant overcoming his childhood hatred for the holiday :)
a/n: a little post halloween fic for you all! sorry this took me so long :) it wasn't planned at all so I hope it's good and not all over the place!!
thank you @joeyb1989 for some inspo ;)
warnings:, language, smut, fluff
word count: 11.7 k
tag list (comment to be added!): @joeyfranchise @joeyb1989 @joeys-babe @softburrow @burrowbarbie @yelenasbraid
----------------------------------------------------------
"Baby, pleaseeeee," Joe whined as he hid his face in your neck, pulling the hood of his onesie even lower to hide his face simultaneously. "Please don't make me go out there," he murmured, his words soft and pleading while his warm breath caressed your skin.
"Joey, it's gonna be okay," you giggled, rubbing gentle circles along his back, your hand sinking into the soft, fluffy fabric of the blue stitch onesie he was sporting tonight.
He pouted, snaking his arms around your waist in a playful attempt to anchor himself, preventing you from dragging him out the door. “I don’t wanna go,” he mumbled into the soft fabric of your matching pink stitch onesie. “I really don’t wanna go, baby. I’ll do anything if you let us stay inside tonight. I’ll make you a three-course meal, give you a full body massage, paint your nails--anything you want. I’ll even let you be on top more ‘cause I know how much you love it. That all sounds nice, right? Right?”. His voice was a mix of begging and teasing, you couldn’t help but giggle at the lengths he was willing to go to avoid the Halloween festivities. 
"Joey, I love you and appreciate your will to negotiate, but I’m not changing my mind,” you chuckled, swaying his body back and forth.
“B- But whyyy?” he mumbled against your neck, his incredibly delicate voice making you melt in his arms. Every word he whispered tugged at your heartstrings, and all you wanted was to go back to bed and snuggle his adorable self till he couldn't breathe. “Do you hate me or something?”
“How dare you accuse me of such a thing,” you dramatically gasped, stopping your soothing movements to add to the theatrical effect. "I'm app-", giggle, "appalled that you even considered such horrid thoughts," you said, trying to stifle your laughter and remain serious but failing miserably.
“...Am I accusing you or is it just the truth?” he moped, twisting his head in your neck so that he could look into your eyes with his wide baby blues.  
A pang of guilt pulled at you for pushing him into it, but you knew without it, he'd never agree. “I love you, and that’s why I’m making us go trick-or-treating tonight. You deserve to experience Halloween the right way, and I’m gonna make it happen this year,”. 
Tonight was your favorite night of the year and Joe’s least favorite night of the year, All Hallow’s Eve. To you, Halloween was a night filled with magic and mischief, a time to dive into the world of costumes, mysterious identities, and bags upon bags of candy. In years past, you'd normally find yourself getting absolutely trashed at some Halloweekend party with your friends, but in recent years you opted for more tamer celebrations. Part of the reason was that you didn't really enjoy getting blackout drunk anymore and left that behind in your college days, but another reason was because of your lovely boyfriend who preferred to spend every October 31st acting like it wasn't October 31st. To Joe, Halloween was a “stupid holiday”, an excuse for people to put on facades they’d never wear any other day. He didn’t see the point in what you were celebrating, and the whole thing seemed meaningless to him. That hurt your soul a little, knowing how much you loved Halloween and everything that came along with it. But when you found out the real reason behind his hesitation--the things he kept tucked away, the bits that made him see the holiday differently--your perspective shifted.
Even growing up, Joe wasn’t the biggest fan of the holiday. He loved the idea of dressing up in his little costumes, always excited to transform into a superhero or a silly cartoon character. But when it was time to step out onto the chilly, leaf-strewn streets, baby joey would hide. He couldn’t get himself to walk up to the door and mumble, “Trick or Treat”. He would hide, burying himself in his parents’ legs or peeking nervously from the porch to see if the bowl of candy was left out. The idea of knocking on doors and making small talk with strangers was all so overwhelming for him and that stuck with him a little even in adulthood. The spooky masks, the dark skies, and the anxiety of talking to strangers soured his feelings towards the holiday and Halloween quickly became something he’d rather skip. You understood that it wasn't just about the costumes and candy for him and that understanding made you want to help him create new, happier memories in place of the old.
But you really didn't have to push all that hard because every year, he still indulged in parts of the spooky holiday for you--at least the parts that he approved. Each year, he’d help you hang up the orange and purple lights, the flying witch decorations, and even the faux cobwebs across the shrubs outside. He’d grumble a little at the mess and the spooky faces staring back at him from the yard, but when he’d see the happiness in your eyes, every bit of effort felt worth it. Seeing you happy made Halloween just a little more bearable--and maybe, just maybe, even enjoyable.
You somehow made it more comforting for him, and even though he gave you the same speech every year about how pointless it all was, you’d eventually find him nose-deep in a bag of candy, a tell-tale smudge of chocolate on his lip betraying his facade.
Sometimes, he’d even cave and watch a Halloween movie with you, despite his irrational fear of anything remotely horror-related. But getting him there was never easy. He was, without a doubt, the most stubborn person you knew so it always took endless pleading, a little bribery, and maybe a few strategically placed kisses to get him to soften up. Soon after, he’d sink in next to you, arms crossed and pretending not to flinch at every jump scare. Or, he'd end up pulling the blanket high enough to cover his face if he wasn't already hiding it in the crook of your neck.
Flashback to a few weeks ago
“Babe, I’m not watching that,” he huffed, crossing his arms and clenching his jaw in opposition as you scrolled through the list of movies on the TV. 
“Baby, Scream isn’t even scary! It’s just a slasher film,” you said while turning to look at him, your bottom lip stuck out as you tried to use your usual irresistible pout to convince him to watch your all-time favorite scary movie with you. 
That pout did wonders for you when it came to Joe. It was your way of getting him to do all the things he'd normally resist--watching a scary movie, going out when he'd rather stay in, trying that new cafe you'd been raving about. Every time, he'd try to hold out, but one look at your face and his front would crumble. It would be replaced with a soft smile that he reserved just for you, just for his girl.
You watched as he sighed, his eyes flicking to your pout and back. His lips curled into a sweet smile and his eyes softened; he was getting lost in your charm and it was working.
Oh yes.
But the pout that usually always works in your favor, failed you this time and he quickly went back to his resolve without even flinching. “Put the pout away, babe. I’m not watching that,” he shook his head. “You look adorable, but it’s not going to work this time,” he added as his thumb traced slowly along your plump bottom lip. His hand lingered near your face and even in his most stubborn moments, he couldn't hide how much he adored you.
You blinked at him for a few silent moments before fully losing it, “But whyyyyy,” you whined, throwing your head back against the couch headrest, then shifting your head to look at him. “I promise it’s not scary! And I’m right here if you do get scared. You can squeeze my hand, bury your face in my neck, use me as a stress ball,”. 
"Thanks, Y/N, but it’s still a hard no," he chuckled at your attempt to persuade him. "I refuse to watch people get gutted by some psycho in a ghost mask. The whole concept of the movie is just dumb, anyway. I mean, why not just move towns or states? Why not just buy a gun? Or wait, even better. Just don’t pick up the fucking phone and talk to a stranger,” he giggled as you glared at him.
He leaned in, deepening his voice, and asked, "What's your favorite scary movie?" in his best Ghostface voice. “Like, come on! Just hang up, block the number, call 911, and get the hell outta dodge,”
You shifted away from him, your jaw falling open, truly offended by his disregard for the masterpiece that the original Scream was. After seeing your demeanor, he only laughed harder. “Oh, stop. You know I’m right. It’s probably the same with every horror movie. They just love to make the main characters dumber than a rock and then make them act surprised that a psycho with a knife is knocking at their door,”. 
“You know,” you interjected, giving him a playful side-eye. “You seem to know an awful lot about scary movie plots for a guy who refuses to watch a single one with his lovely girlfriend--the same girlfriend he adores, is utterly obsessed with, and would do annnnnnything to make happy,” you lean into the sarcasm, but laced it with enough sweetness to test his stubbornness, hoping it would make him cave. "You do like to make her happy, right? I bet that you watching Scream with her would make her soooo happy," you added, placing a hand on his thigh and giving him a gentle squeeze.
Joe smirked to himself before he leaned in, his lips grazing against the corner of your ear. “You gotta do better than that, baby,” he whispered, his breath hot and voice raspy. He was enjoying your attempt to sway him. The playful challenge in his eyes told you he wasn’t giving in that easily, but he loved every second of it. 
"Oh, come ON," you thought to yourself, realizing this would be much harder than you thought.
"What if I make you Pumpkin Pie after?" you asked him while flashing him a bright smile. Pleading wasn't working, so it was time for you to call in the big guns: bribery. God bless your ability to pivot without breaking a sweat, you could practically already see his determination crumbling as a hint of temptation flickered in his eyes. You were close to winning him over.
Yes. YES.
Joe pursed his lips, pretending to be deeply thinking about your offer before he opened his mouth after his dramatic pause, "Mmmm, nope," he shook his head, trying to keep a straight face.
You groaned, throwing your head back against the couch headrest again, then dropping your head to his shoulder where he moved his hand to cradle your face. He dropped a quick kiss to your forehead, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he enjoyed every second of your struggle. "Damn, you suck at this," he teased, his voice full of affection.
"What if I bake it naked. Only in an apron?" you offered, glancing up at him and knowing that he wouldn't be able to resist such a tempting offer.
Whenever you stepped into that kitchen to bake him something, it was like a switch flipped inside Joe. He became impossibly handsy, his self-control being thrown out the window the second he saw you in that baby pink apron, hair tied in a messy bun, and arms coated in flour. What takes 2 hours to bake, takes 4 when he's in there with you. You get so distracted by his slow neck kisses, his hands sliding over the curves of your hips, and the alluring words he whispered in your ear. By the end, flour would be everywhere. On the counter, on your clothes, even in his hair. He was always so proud of the mess you'd both made, and you didn't mind it one bit.
So, being naked--basically bare--while making him his second favorite sweet treat? Well, that was basically an open invitation for Joe to indulge in his first favorite sweet treat. You.
He definitely wouldn't be able to resist this.
"It'll be just you and me," you mumble, leaning your head forward so that your lips are sliding across his tan neck, his hand moving to grip your thigh as he instinctively pulls you closer. "In that big kitchen," you say as you drop a wet kiss on his sweet spot. "Allll alone," another kiss to his skin, this time along his jawline. "For as long as you want...".
His eyes widened for a split second before he let out a low, conquered groan, trying to fight back a grin at the same time. "You...are impossible," he muttered, shaking his head as he pulled you in even closer, your legs now curled up in his lap and his hand rubbing your calf.
"And you are always DTF," you giggled, taking note of his handsy-ness already beginning hours in advance due to the mere mention of baking a pie for him with no clothes on.
"...Mmph, alright, you win," he sighed, giving in to your wishes at last. "But that pie better be worth it or else I'm taking all this Halloween shit down," he warned while motioning to the few decorations around the living room.
"If the pie isn't worth it, I'll be sure to make something else worth it," you winked, your implied suggestion causing his cheeks to turn pink as you reached for the remote and clicked on Scream.
End of Flashback
Over the years, you'd managed to get your boyfriend to warm up to Halloween bit by bit. He'd sit through a few "scary" movies and even helped you decorate the house despite his complaining and groaning. But there was still one Halloween tradition you hadn't been able to get him to embrace: trick-or-treating.
That part of Halloween still brought back his old discomfort. Every year you'd try to get him to hand out candy with you, but he always refused and said he had to watch game tape in his office. You'd ask if he wanted to walk around the neighborhood and watch the kids trick-or-treat, but instead, he'd suggest you two go out to eat. Then you'd get a little bold and ask him if he wanted to go trick-or-treating together, and Joe would look at you like you had three heads.
Nothing ever worked--not the pout, the pleading, the bribery, or even your sweetest kisses. Trick-or-treating was the one Halloween tradition Joe just couldn’t get behind, no matter how much you tried. But this year, you decided to approach it differently.
You didn’t ask him to go. You simply told him you were going trick-or-treating together and made it nearly impossible for him to refuse.
You’d spent weeks planning, finding the perfect couple’s costumes, and dropping hints about how fun it would be. Every time he tried to fight it, you’d meet his eyes with that knowing smile, as if you could already picture the two of you walking hand in hand down the leaf-strewn streets. You weren’t giving him a way out this time. And deep down, a part of him knew he was going to give in--not because you’d worn him down, but because he loved seeing you happy.
Flashback to two nights ago
"Okay. I have three costume options," you smiled, holding up three shopping bags in front of him. Joe sat on the edge of the bed, looking a little frazzled, his expression already showing his hesitation.
"Wait...three?" he asked, eyeing the bags like they were bombs that were seconds away from exploding
"Mhm!" you grinned, pulling the bags closer. "You're going to pick the perfect couple's costume, I just know it,".
"Me? I told you, Y/N. I'm not going," he shook his head. "We do this dance every year and I don't know why you keep trying,".
Your shoulders dropped a little at his usual negative mindset towards Halloween, and you softened as you met his eyes again, "I keep trying because..." you hesitated, giving him a warm smile, "I want to make you have happy memories about this holiday, Joey,".
He blinked, surprised by the sincerity in your voice. Normally you'd be playful and silly when you talked about this, but this time you weren't and that set off the alarm in Joe's head.
“I want you to experience it the way you were meant to as a kid,” you continued, dropping the bags and walking over to sit beside him. “I want you to have the same silly experiences I did, so that one day,” you took his hand in yours, squeezing gently, “We can let our kids experience it the way we did. You deserve to feel the excitement of getting dressed up, the thrill you get once you count up the amount of candy you get at the end of the night, and the warm feeling the day after when you get to stuff your face with candy for breakfast. I know Halloween wasn’t your favorite back then, but I’m here now. We can make it ours. We can make better memories,".
"I know it's silly, I mean it is just a holiday. But I want you to experience it all, you know? And it'll be fun because I'm doing it with you," you added, your voice laced with sincerity.
Joe looked down at your hands, your words sinking in, and when he looked up, there was a warmth in his eye that hadn't been there before. Halloween might not have been his favorite holiday. But for you? He'd make it one he loved. He saw how much it meant to you, and he noticed how over the years you'd been changing his experiences with the holiday step by step despite his stubbornness. You never gave up on him, and that's why he loved you. That's why he was willing to do whatever it took to make you smile.
With a small grin, he eventually sighed, “Alright. Show me those costumes,”.
Your face lit up instantly, "Really?" you gasped, gripping his bicep in response.
"Don't make me change my mind," he said after dropping his head, although he couldn't help a smile from appearing on his face at the sound of your newfound excitement.
"I love you, Joseph Lee Burrow," you grinned, pressing a quick kiss to his soft cheek before jumping off the bed and grabbing the bags.
"I love you too, Y/N Y/LN," he chuckled.
He did, he really really loved you. He was willing to do anything to make you happy, to make his girl, his lady, happy. And who knows, maybe you were right? Maybe he would have a happy memory of Halloween after doing this with you tonight.
You picked up the first bag, quickly taking out the first set of matching costumes. "Okay, okay, hear me out--matching blue and pink stitch onesies. They're comfy and simple, and I think you'll look very adorable walking around in this,".
Joe raised an eyebrow, a smile creeping onto his face. "Comfy, huh? That's a plus, for sure".
You grinned, pulling out the next costume. "Option Two, Joker and Harley Quinn,".
"Oh?" he said, his tone laced with surprise as he saw your Harley Quinn costume or the lack thereof. "I don't know how I feel about you walking around in those shorts, babe,".
"I knew you were going to say that," you sighed. "But I still bought it anyway because you'd look so sexy with this Joker outfit and makeup on,".
Joe felt a blush creeping up on his face as he chuckled, "We can do that...but only for our eyes only. Your birthdays coming up, right? Consider me dressing up as The Joker one of your gifts," he winked.
"Noted," you said, your voice barely above a whisper as heat pooled in your stomach at his innuendo. You then pulled out the final option, trying to calm yourself as you showed him. "Last one, which is a classic. Pirates!" you grinned.
Joe looked carefully for a moment, peeking at each costume before finally meeting your gaze. It didn't take long for him to decide which one he liked best, “You know,” he said, a grin breaking through, “I think I’m gonna go with the stitch onesie,".
You raised an eyebrow in surprise at how fast he picked a costume, especially because he picked the one you didn't think he would pick. “Really? Why’s that?”
“Because,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief, “It’s super comfy, and you know how much I love aliens. Plus,” he added, leaning in closer, “It’ll be easy to take off of you later when we get into bed,”
Your cheeks flushed at the playful implication, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, stitch it is! But you have to promise we’ll take cute photos," you said, you were really just happy that he agreed to go and pick a costume without getting into a pillow fight with you.
“Deal,” Joe said, reaching out and gripping your waist firmly, pulling you close, and planting a quick kiss on your belly before resting his cheek against it while you raked your fingers through his soft hair. Halloween might not have been his favorite holiday, but with you by his side, he was ready to make it a night to remember--one cozy moment at a time.
"I love you," he mumbled against you before pressing another kiss to your belly.
"I love you too, my anti-halloween cuddle baby," you giggled, pressing a kiss to his hair.
End of flashback
You thought you had gotten him to fully embrace tonight, especially since he willingly put on his blue stitch onesie, but with the way he was clinging to you right now...he was definitely still struggling to let himself open up to it.
"What if they start laughing at me? I'm Joe Burrow, 27-year-old QB of the Cincinnati Bengals. I shouldn't be out trick-or-treating," he whined, hiding his face in your neck again.
"They won't laugh, Joey," you softly laughed.
"How do you know?".
"Because. You're Joe Burrow, 27-year-old QB of the Cincinnati Bengals," you grinned, gently shuffling both of you over to the foyer table where your candy bags were placed. "Man, you're big," you mumbled, slightly struggling to move because you had your 215-pound teddy bear attached to you.
He chuckled lightly, his breath warm against your skin. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. I thought you liked big boys,”.
"I do. Only you though. The rest are scaryyyy," you smiled, finally reaching the table.
"And I'm not?" he questioned, his voice laced with playfulness and flirtatious energy.
"Nope," you said while grabbing the bags. "You're my big, gigantic, muscular, adorable cuddle baby whom I never want to let go of" you softened.
"Hm, I think I prefer that over a scary football player," he chuckled.
Joe lost that tough, hard-headed QB persona when it was just the two of you. He was a total softie with you, revealing a side that few got to see. He would lean in closer during the quiet moments, dropping his guard as he shared little secrets and dreams with you, his deep voice softening to a whisper just for you. It was in these moments that you could see the real Joe. A man who cherished the little things, from the warmth of your hands to the laughter you shared over inside jokes. Each cuddle, each tender kiss that lingered a second longer, each time he pulled you into his tight embrace, he was just Joey. The boy who adored you more than life itself. Under the star athlete was someone who thrived on love, warmth, and connection.
"Good," you giggled, "Because me too. Anyway, it's just our neighborhood. Everyone knows we live here so I'm sure you'll just get a few 'hey joe!' screams and an occasional request for a photo,".
Joe lifted his head out of your neck, still looking a bit unsure for a few moments which prompted you to speak up. "I promise it'll be fun, Joey. I'm right there with you," you smiled, your hand sliding up and down the sides of his torso and your nails lightly scratching him through the fabric of his onesie. "Do it for me? Please?".
You saw a little shift in his baby blue eyes, relaxation and love flooded them. "Anything for her," he told himself. "Come on, Joe. Grow up,".
He took another deep breath before speaking up, "...Okay, but if someone asks me to do the Heisman pose in a Stitch onesie, I’m not doing it,".
You broke out in a fit of laughter at the mental image of him doing so and dropped your head onto his chest as your body shook from emotion. "D- Deal," you laughed, your heart swelling at how willing he was to step out of his comfort zone for you.
You felt him press a warm kiss to your forehead, his hand then moving to cup the nape of your neck and angle your face up. He leaned down, gently pressing his lips against yours, the feeling of your lips connecting sending shivers down your spine.
His hands slid down to your waist, his thumbs tracing slow, deliberate circles as he pulled you closer. His cold nose brushed against yours as he met your lips in a deep, sluggish, sloppy kiss. Each gentle nip and pull sent warmth throughout your body, and his soft rhythm made you melt into him. Just as you began to lose yourself in the kiss, he pulled back slightly, "Alright, let's do this," he said against your lips. "But you better keep me entertained, or I'm pulling the 'famous quarterback' card,".
"Interesting words coming from the same guy who hates unnecessary attention," you said while raising an eyebrow, stepping back from Joe's embrace to straighten out your outfit.
"Hey, it's my get-out-of-jail-free card," he retorted. "If they start laughing or I get bored, I'll remind everyone that I'm a professional athlete. That'll get them to one, stop laughing because I'll say 'excuse me, ma'am, but do you really want to laugh at Joe Burrow, the Cincinnati Bengals' golden boy?' and two, entertain my football star side for a few short seconds before I get irritated by the camera flashes," he said while striking a mock pose, puffing out his chest and flexing his arms dramatically.
"Ohhh yeah," you giggled, "Because nothing screams 'intimidating' like a guy in a stitch onesie flexing his muscles,".
“Exactly, babe,” he replied, laughing along with you. “I mean, who wouldn’t want a picture with the cuddly, buff quarterback? Just look at me, who could say no?” He glanced down at his plush costume, pretending to look serious.
"Careful, Joey B. You might even start a trend," you said while raising your hands. "The soft, cuddly, buff quarterback. It could be your new brand,".
"I can get behind that," he cutely nodded. "Maybe I'll wear this at the press conference next week," he chucked, throwing his arm around your shoulder and leading you both to the front door.
"Ohhh, I would love to see the reactions from the guys and the media if you pulled up like this," you smiled as you rested your head on his shoulder.
"I would never hear the end of it. The guys still give me shit for the hickey I walked in with the day after my birthday last year," he sighed.
"I'm still not sorry for that," you shrugged. "Gotta let everyone know that you're mine," you nodded as he opened the front door for you.
"No need to be sorry, babe. You made your mark on me, a golden tattoo. I can't hate on that," he smiled, helping you onto the front step while he followed and closed the door behind him.
A smirk rose on your face, "Good. Because if you do good tonight, maybe you'll get a few more golden tattoos," you quickly mumbled, hopping down the steps of your house.
"Wait, what?" Joe asked, raising his eyebrows at what he thinks he heard you say.
Your cheeks turned a deeper shade of maroon before you glanced back at him, "Ohhh, nothing," you smiled. "C'mon," you motioned for him to follow, "We have doors to knock on,".
-- -- --
"Okay, Joey. First house," you smiled, placing your hand around his bicep and giving it a reassuring squeeze. You both were standing at the doorstep of a house that was a few streets down from yours, the decorations in the front yard caught your eye and you just knew this was the first place to start. There was an elaborate setup of skeletons cobwebs, and glowing pumpkins that lit up the yard with a spooky charm.
Joe's eyes darted from the decorations to the door, and you could feel the tension in his muscles under your hand. "Had to pick the spookiest house first, didn't you?" he murmured, glancing down at you with a hint of hesitation.
"You got this, babe," you nudged playfully, leaning over to kiss his cheek as you doubled down on your confidence in him.
He took a deep breath, straightening his posture as his brows furrowed in determination. "Okay, here goes," he breathed out, lifting his hand, pausing for a second as he shot you one last look--almost making sure you were still with him--before he finally pressed the doorbell. There was nothing to be scared or shy of. You were right there with him, he had no reason to hide behind someone because he had his safety blanket right next to him. His sweetheart, his lovely girlfriend, his Y/N.
A few seconds later, the door swung open to reveal a middle-aged woman, her face lighting up as her eyes fell on you both. But when her eyes landed on Joe, standing there in a stitch onesie, she let out a surprised laugh.
He nervously cleared his throat before saying, "Trick or treat!" his voice was steady but laced with a bit of shyness that only you could catch.
"Oh, my goodness!" she bounced with excitement. "I never thought I'd see the day! Joe Burrow? Trick or Treating on my porch! And in such an adorable costume?" she cooed.
You couldn’t help the proud grin that spread across your face as you squeezed his arm again, leaning in to whisper, "See? You’re already a hit,".
"She's not wrong! This costume is perfect for you," the lady nodded. "You two look so adorable!".
Joe laughed, scratching the back of his neck, "Yeah, well...I have my Halloween coach to thank for that," he said, nodding at you with an appreciative smile.
"You give me too much credit," you giggled. "Not everyone can pull off a stitch onesie at 27 years old,".
He looked down at you again, his lips curved into a soft smile. But then he noticed your gaze shift down to his bag, which was still closed tight in his hand. You gave him a playful look, raising an eyebrow as if you were saying, "C'mon, Joey. Open it up,".
He realized what you meant with your stare, "Oh," he mumbled, quickly tugging the bag open and holding it out just like a kid who finally got the Halloween memo.
He watched as the woman dug her hand deep into the bowl of candy and placed a generous handful inside his spooky, SpongeBob-themed candy bag. Joe looked down at it with a mix of amusement and disbelief on his face, clearly not used to this happening to him. You couldn't help but melt at how surreal it must have felt for him--27-year-old Joe Burrow, the star QB, standing on a stranger's doorstep with a trick-or-treat bag in hand, experiencing the magic of Halloween the right way for the first time.
"Happy Halloween!" she chirped, giving him a little wink before turning to you and adding, "And you two make the cutest couple! Who Dey!".
Joe's ears turned a light shade of pink as he mumbled a polite, "Thank You,", trying to hide his emotions as best he could. That wasn't as bad as he thought it was, that was actually...fun? There were no awkward words exchanged between him and the stranger, no intimidating vibes, just sweet candy and even sweeter words.
And he had gotten a huge, seemingly above-normal fistful of candy too? Talk about Quarterback perks...
"What is this?" he thought, confused by what just happened as his hand instinctively gripped yours while you waved goodbye and walked away from the house.
You couldn't help your smile from growing wider when you both were back on the sidewalk. "He did it. He really did it," you thought to yourself, your heart swelling in return. "He did it for me,".
You stopped him in his tracks and turned to face him. "What's wrong?" he asked, confused at why you suddenly stopped him and at your wide-eyed look.
A squeal left your lips as you looped your arms around his neck and jumped into him. "You did ittttt!" you cheered, pressing about a dozen kisses to his soft, rosy cheek. "I'm so proud of you, Joe!".
Joe's face softened, a smile creeping up as he wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close. "You're really that proud of me?" he asked, amused and bashful.
"Are you joking?" you beamed, pulling back just enough to look at him through both your stitch hoods. "You faced your Halloween fears for me. That's huge, Joe,".
"Yeah...I guess I did," he tilted his head and replied, sounding a little surprised himself.
"Ahhhh," you squealed again as you went back into the bear hug you were giving him. "This is so exciting for me, you have no clue,".
He laughed, "Oh, I think I have some idea. You've been on me for doing this for yeaaars. I'm glad you never gave up, though,".
"I'll never give up when it comes to you," you smiled before leaning up and capturing his lips in a warm kiss. "Ooo," you said as you quickly pulled away, "What candy did you get?" you asked as you felt the presence of his candy bag below you
Joe chuckled softly, still relishing in the warmth of your quick kiss. “Let’s see,” he said, searching through his candy bag with exaggerated seriousness as if it were a treasure chest. “Looks like I’ve got some Snickers, a few Reese’s, and--,” he paused for dramatic effect, pulling out a tiny packet, “Starburst!”.
Joe and his Starbursts. An inseparable duo.
"Ohh, here we go," you laughed, watching as he dropped his bag on the ground and quickly started ripping open the packet to see what flavors he got.
A gasp left his lips, "Orange! Y/N, I got double orange!" he smiled, his voice so light and playful because he had just got his favorite flavor. He was legit a kid right now in every way possible, from the costume to the smile, and to the air around him.
"Joe, it's just orange," you teased, smiling wide as you enjoyed this playful side to him.
He shot you a glare, "Just orange? This is the best damn flavor," he said, tossing a piece into his mouth with a proud grin. "I know you love pink, but that is not orange. You're missing out," he said while pointing at you as if he was giving you a lecture.
"Maybe we can do a flavor swap later?" you winked, your suggestive comment earning a grin from him.
"Deal," he chuckled as he picked up his bag again to see what else he got.
You watched as he searched through the candies, an adorable grin on his face, crinkles around his eyes, and a shimmer in his baby blues. Joe was so happy, so smiley, and this was just the first house out of many. You could only imagine how he would be by the end of the night. "Let's keep going," he smiled, a feeling of excitement starting to bubble underneath his skin.
You let him lead you, warmth filling your chest as he glanced back at you, his excitement spreading through his fingertips and straight into your body. Joe’s hand squeezed yours, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how he practically skipped down the sidewalk. His usual calm, collected self had completely melted away, replaced by a boyish joy that made your heart swell.
When you reached the next house, he gave you a playful look. "Alright, what do you think this one’s giving out? Full-size? Think we’ll get lucky?".
You shrugged, playing along, “Only one way to find out. Go on, brave QB. Knock and conquer,".
"You don't want to come up with me?" he asked with a playful pout.
You smiled, "You're a big boy, QB1. You've got this".
"Alright, alright. But if I get nervous, you'll be my backup, right?" he asked, glancing back at the house. He wasn't having a hard time talking to strangers this time around, which was different than when he was a kid. Normally, he wouldn't be able to put his finger on what made him break a childhood habit, but this time it was easy for him to know because of the feeling he had in his heart.
It was because of you.
Being with you calmed Joe in a way that nothing else could. Your calm presence was like the first, refreshing sip of ice water after a brutal run on a hot day. As you stood by his side tonight, he felt your cool confidence seep into him, melting away any of his nerves.
With you there, he found himself speaking more easily, making small talk without hesitation, and even standing on doorsteps without any fear. You had a remarkable effect on Joe, and he knew damn well without you, he wouldn't be able to do a lot of things, including this.
"Forever and Always," you promised, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go.
He straightened up, took a breath, and headed up the path on his own, a new confidence in his stride. Watching him, you couldn’t help but smile. He was loosening up, bit by bit, and you felt a thrill at the thought that he might actually be enjoying himself.
Joe knocked on the door, a bit of uncertainty clear via his body language. But when the door opened, he gave a smile so genuine that even the older couple answering couldn’t help but smile back, dropping another handful of treats into his bag as they made small talk with him.
You quickly pulled out your phone to record the sweet moment, wanting to capture Joe looking absolutely adorable and actively enjoying himself on Halloween in case someone doubted you when you told them. You had gotten him to soften up, and that was making this the best Halloween ever. You wanted to capture the memory and keep it forever.
As he headed down the steps, he looked at you with a glowing face. “You know what? I kinda get why you love this now. It’s just...fun,”.
You let out a dramatic gasp as he inched towards you, "Joe Burrow? Saying Halloween is fun? Oh my god? Have the aliens finally made landfall on Earth?".
"Very funny, Y/N," he playfully rolled his eyes.
"What'd you score this time?" you said while looping your arm with his.
"Full-sized, baby," he said in mock triumph. "Snickers, a big bag of Sour-Patch, and even another Starburst packet,". The glimmer in his eyes was undeniable, he was genuinely enjoying himself and the smile on his face was only growing wider. There were no complaints from him, no signs of anxiety, just pure enjoyment. "They even said I looked cute in this and said I've been playing like the MVP recently," he blushed.
"Aw, that's sweet," you replied, squeezing his hand as you continued walking down the street, seeing all the little kids in their adorable costumes wandering the roads. You even think you saw a kid dressed up as Joe, football jersey and all.
He let go of your hand so that he could put his arm around your waist, "They even said something about you," he winked.
"Oh? What'd they say?" you asked, snaking your arm around his waist.
"That I struck gold with youuuu," he teased, bumping his head with yours. "They go to a bunch of games and have seats by our sidelines and see you and me before every game doing our little handshake and watching you give me that pre-game pep talk. They said that the way I look at you, and only you, during that time is only something that comes around every few lifetimes,".
Your eyes widened in surprise, "Wait, seriously? People notice that?".
They weren't wrong there, though. The way Joe looked at you during his sideline time was something that was so special, so rare. He had the weight of the world on his shoulders at that time, but all that vanished once his eyes locked in on yours. You were his comfort, his calm within the storm. Whether that's on the field, or even right now as you two were partaking in Halloween festivities that he was normally against. You made it all better with your smile, with your reassuring words, with your gentle touch. He adored you.
Joe chuckled, nodding, "Yeah, apparently it's their favorite part of the game. They said, 'Man, if that's not love, I don't know what is',". He pulled you a little closer, "Guess I struck gold,".
Your heart exploded as you nestled closer to him, "Well, they're not wrong," you mumbled. "But, I think I'm the lucky one because I get to watch you light up the field like you do,".
Joe leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your head, his voice warm as he murmured, “Guess we're both pretty lucky. But I'm definitely the luckier one because I have the most dedicated, relentless--in the best way--adorable, thoughtful, beautiful, and insanely hot woman by my side,".
His words were tender, each one a gentle caress that wrapped around your heart. They held a deep meaning that made you feel adored in a way only he could make you feel. You looked up at him, eyes sparkling with love, a smile tugging at your lips. "You know, you make it really hard not to fall for you all over again," you whispered, your voice catching as you reached up to trace your fingers along his jawline.
"Baby, I fall for you all over again every single morning I wake up to your beautiful face," he said, his fingers brushing against your cheek. "And I love you a million times more. Thank you for taking me out tonight even though I was being a whiny ass. I'm realizing what I've been missing out on," he said, looking across the street to where a little boy was calling his name, giving him a wave and smile in return. "And I'm definitely realizing it's a lot more fun with you, by my side".
"Well, I'm having the best Halloween ever if that means anything," you smiled, watching as he waved to the little kids who were starting to notice that they were trick-or-treating with Joe Burrow.
Joe pulled you even closer before planting a quick kiss on your forehead again, "Me too, and it's all thanks to you,".
Joe saw that satisfied grin on your face and felt his heart swell. You were happy. Knowing that he had a part in that made him feel like he was on Cloud 9. "I think I like seeing you like this more than I like watching the other team go 3 and out during a game," he said with a silly grin.
"You're just saying that just to say it," you shook your head as you two strolled down the sidewalk.
"Nope. I'd wear this every Halloween if it meant I could see you smile like this. You look like you're about to explode from excitement," he laughed.
"Well, I think I might. My mission was accomplished. You're enjoying Halloween," you said while letting go of him, moving so that you two were face to face. You grabbed his hand and started to walk backward down the sidewalk, leading him along with you. "We're healing your inner child, one 'trick or treat' at a time,".
"You know, you might be right?" he shook his head in disbelief. "Just don't tell my mom because I think she'll actually freak if we tell her you got me to trick or treat since she tried soooo hard when I was little to get me out here,".
You let out a loud laugh, "It'll be our secret,".
"Good, because I wouldn't do this for anyone else. Just you," he said, giving you a heated look, his icy eyes sending shivers down your spine. The playfulness in his voice was replaced with heat, and you weren't sure what made him do such a 360 all of a sudden.
"Woahhh, slow down with those bedroom eyes. We still have a few more houses to hit up," you giggled.
"Sorry," he shook his head, snapping out of his daze. "I just remembered how easy it is to take a onesie off and got excited,".
"Like I said, you're always DTF," you smiled, turning back around and pulling him down the sidewalk with you.
"Only for you though," he smiled, innocently tapping your ass which caused a gasp to leave your lips.
"Joseph Lee! There are children around!" you shrieked, looking back at him with wide eyes as your cheeks flushed with surprise and embarrassment.
"What? It was just a little tap," he shrugged. "Besides, we're allowed to have some fun, right? It is Halloween,".
"You're unbelievable, you know that?" you said, trying to hide your laughter.
"But you love it," he said, leaning closer as he winked at you, his confidence shining through. "And I think the kids are too focused on their candy to notice what I'm doing,".
You looked around, watching as the kids ran past you both with their candy hauls in hand, realizing he was right. "Okay, but still. You better keep your hands to yourself unless you want the whole neighborhood to see your stitch onesie getting stripped off,".
"Relaaax, baby. It won't happen again, at least not until we're somewhere a little more...private," he said, tapping your ass again but before you could say something, he ran in front of you to escape your anger.
"Oh hell no," you shook your head, watching as he ran backward, his tongue sticking out at you in mockery as he sported a cocky grin.
"Catch me if you can!" he yelled, his laughter echoing as he picked up speed.
"He's such a kid," you whispered to yourself, "You're going to regret that!" you shouted back, your competitive spirit breaking free as you took off after him.
He really was a full-blown kid tonight, and it was all thanks to you. You got him to loosen up, to laugh a little harder, and to enjoy something he had grown to hate. Each doorbell you rang seemed to chip away at the walls he had built around Halloween, and the joy in his eyes was heartwarming.
You ran down the sidewalk, chasing after him as best as you could, but Joe being the sneaky athletic man he is, was just too fast for your pace. "He chooses the wrong time to show that he has wheels," you thought to yourself. Before you knew it, he had led you down a dark backroad and was nowhere in sight. You were far from your familiar neighborhood streets, the spooky decorations and orange lights now a blur in the background as you were now standing on an eerily quiet street. The shadowy road sent a shiver down your arm, "Joe?" you called out, your voice echoing in the quiet environment.
You got no response.
You bit your lip, gripping your bag a little tighter as you stay alert, turning your head to check if he was near you. "Joe? This isn't funny! I swear to God," you said, swallowing hard. The usual sounds of forest critters were oddly silent, providing no comfort to you at the moment.
"Did he even come down here? Maybe I wasn't paying too much attention to which way he went," you muttered to yourself, slowly beginning to walk up the road and back to where you came from. "But then where did he go?".
"Joe? I'm serious," you yelled out again, your voice laced with frustration and nervousness. This was the exact kind of thing he would do to spook you, so maybe that's what he was doing.
Before you could call out again, you heard a faint sound--like a crunch of leaves under a foot.
You didn't turn around to see what it was, instead, you stopped walking and froze, your bottom lip starting to tremble as fear crept into your mind.
There was nothing down here. And by nothing, you mean nothing. Not a single house, not a single car, and not a single soul. Just trees, a road, and a distant view of your neighborhood.
So who was behind you?
You didn't want to turn around to see who it was out of fear. It could be Joe, but it also could be some psycho in a ghost mask with a knife, waiting to stab you to death. "Oh shut up, Y/N. Scream is a movie. A MOVIE." you lectured yourself, mentally slapping yourself for sounding like Joe.
You shook your head to push away the uncomfortable feeling creeping up your spine. You quickened your pace as you walked towards the familiar shapes of the neighborhood. Each hasty step made your heart pound louder in your chest, drowning out your breath. Behind you, the sounds grew louder as you heard the rustling leaves and the faint crunch of footsteps on gravel--each noise sent a rush of anxiety through you.
"Absolutely not. I'm not dying before I witness a Bengals Super Bowl win," you mumbled to yourself before you reached up to pull your hood down, then kicked back and started bolting up the road.
"Come on, come on," you muttered, your breath hitching as you heard the distance between you and whatever was behind you shrink.
But then, your heart stopped as two strong hands gripped your waist and pulled you back, your back bumping into something solid and hard. "AHHHH!" you shrieked. "Please don't kill me! I swear, I didn't do any- anything," you screamed while feeling tears in your eyes.
And then you heard it, a laugh. Deep, unmistakable, and...familiar.
"Scared you, didn't I?" Joe rasped in your ear, his arms tightening around your waist.
Your heart was still pounding from the rush, "Joe!" you shouted, giving him a halfhearted shove and releasing yourself from his arms. "That wasn't funny! I thought you were some...masked psycho about to murder me,".
He reached out, placing his hands on your shoulders while stabling himself, "And this- And this is why you shouldn't watch Scream," he panted, catching his breath, the laughter still lingering in his eyes.
"Fuck you," you panted, coming from a place of playfulness and fun.
Joe's hands slid down to your waist, pulling you into him with one swift movement, "Aww, was my baby scared?" he pouted.
You stared into his eyes with irritation, "Yes." you muttered without hesitation.
"Aw, I'm sorry," he smiled, pushing your head into his chest as he swayed you back and forth, "But at least now we know how you'd last in a horror movie,".
You rolled your eyes before breaking out in a grin--you just couldn't help yourself, "Who knew Joey B was final girl material? I mean, look at those wheels," you teased.
"Damn right," he chuckled, then leaned down to place a kiss on your cheek. "I think you need to learn a few things from me. No way you should be that slow when your boyfriend is Joey Wheels,".
You let out an offended scoff before lightly slapping his chest, "I'm not that slow," you said.
"Mhmmm," he hummed, "Whatever helps you sleep at night,".
You shook your head before going back to his chest, "You're having one good Halloween and think you're the shit now, aren't you?".
"Precisely," he nodded, "But that's all you're doing, baby. You asked for this," he chuckled.
He did it to make you happy, which worked. And you did it to make him happy, which also worked. You two made amazing memories tonight, carefully uninstalling the bitter ones from his childhood and replacing them with happier ones. You loved to see him happy and carefree like this, you never wanted that smile to come off his face.
"Well, you scaring me is a good thing I guess. You're not the one scared anymore, I am," you smiled up at him. "Healing your inner child, one step at a time,".
-- -- --
A few hours later -- back at the house
"I didn't think that would be so fun," Joe said as he rummaged through his candy collection on the bed while you were in the bathroom, getting ready for bed. "You seriously have me questioning why I ever dreaded Halloween,".
You laughed from inside the bathroom, "It's because you didn't have me around to show you the ropes. I told you I'd change your mind!" you shouted just loud enough for him to hear you.
"My miracle worker," he chuckled, opening up a Snickers bar and taking a bite of the chocolatey treat.
Back in the bathroom, you were currently standing in front of the mirror, looking at the red, lacy lingerie that you had slipped on under your onesie before you left earlier. You knew that even though he'd complain about it, Joe would come through and make your wish come true. And in return, he deserved a treat when you both got back and you wanted to show him how much you appreciated him loosening up for you on a night that had never been his favorite.
He thought you were just in here, doing your skincare and slipping into your PJs, but instead, you were getting ready to give him the real treat he deserved. "He's going to love this," you smirked, pulling one of his old LSU shirts over your body along with your sleep shorts.
You grabbed one of Joe's favorite perfumes of yours, giving it a few spritzes around your body, before fluffing your hair, turning out the lights, and leaving the bathroom.
"Babe, you gotta try these watermelon sour patch kids," Joe said as he dug through the tiny packet and popped a few into his mouth.
You smiled at the sight before you--Joe sprawled out on the bed in just his boxers, looking effortlessly irresistible. His disheveled hair and relaxed posture were a stark contrast to the playful, innocent stitch he’d been just a few hours ago. It was like seeing two sides of him in one night, each one captivating in its own way.
"Insane duality as usual," you murmured, barely containing a grin as you took him in.
Once he heard you close the bathroom door, Joe's gaze tracked your every step as you walked back into the room, his eyes sparking with curiosity. He picked up on a subtle shift in your energy, the way your confidence was shining brighter than usual, making his smirk grow. He threw his half-finished candy onto the nightstand, leaning back against the soft headboard with his hands behind his head, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Hi," he smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
You gave him a slow once over, taking note of every vein, every curve of his muscles, and especially that happy trail that led to one of your favorite things in the world. ""Hi," you said, giving him a devilish grin, your tone laced with heat. "Enjoy your candy?" you teased.
"Yeaahhh...," he trailed off, "You alright?" he asked a few seconds later once you stopped at the foot of the bed.
"Oh, I'm more than alright," you thought to yourself, clearing your throat and standing up straight. "Trick or Treat?" you smirked at him.
Joe raised an eyebrow at your question, especially because he could tell it was coming from a place of mischief. "What?" he asked.
"You heard me," you bit your lip and said. "Trick or Treat?".
Joe raised an eyebrow at your tone--it was light, a little heated, and incredibly playful. Was this going where he thought it was? "I think I’m going with treat,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower as he slowly leaned forward. “But I’m curious…just what kind of treat am I in for?”
"Hmmm, you know," you said while gazing deeply into his starry eyes, "The hot kind. The messy kind. The sexy kind,".
And as if on cue, you reached for the bottom of your shirt, quickly pulling the fabric up and over your head before throwing it at Joe's face, his eyes widening once he got a glimpse at the lacy red bra that covered the part of your body that Joe was insanely obsessed with. "Y/N..." he murmured, his heart skipping a beat once he saw you turn around so your back was facing him, your hair moving to the front which gave him the perfect view of the thin lace straps.
You pulled your shorts down, bending over so you could reach down to get them out of your feet and to also give Joe a generous view of your lace-covered ass.
"Fuck, baby," he groaned, the tent in his boxers growing at the sight of your toned, lace-covered body.
You flipped back around, watching as his hand absentmindedly inched closer to his erection, shifting it to feel momentary relief because of the way you were torturing him right now. You flashed him a playful grin before kneeling on the bed, your fingernails running up against his leg as you moved closer and closer to his torso.
"Baby, I-," he choked out as he felt your hand graze over his shaft.
"Shh, it's okay. Just lay back and relax. You earned this for doing good tonight. You did it for me, to see me happy, to see me smile. You had fun tonight and you did something out of your comfort zone, all for me. You deserve a treat for being so good to me, baby," you nodded, both your bodies now filled with heat and desire, the need to feel each other overpowering any other emotion.
You leaned down, your lips coming into contact with the fabric of his boxers as you pressed gentle kisses around his upper thighs. Joe tossed his head back at the sudden contact, and as your lips inched closer to his shaft, his body jerked while a string of sounds fell from his lips. "B- Baby, stop teasing," he mumbled, his hand stuffed into your hair as he lightly pulled on the strands. "I need y- you,".
You smirked at his faltering cockiness, then trailed your kisses up his body, following his happy trail. Your tongue glided along the curvature of each of his semi-visible abs, up to his pecs, and then to his neck.
You had shifted so that you were now comfortably seated in his lap, and Joe's hands were firmly placed on each side of your waist, slowly moving your hips back and forth against his shaft to feel relief.
You attached your lips to his neck, your goal was to leave as many golden tattoos as you could. "Mm, Y/N," he whimpered in your ear as he felt you suck harder on his favorite spot. "So good for me, baby," he sighed, his self-control being very close to being thrown out the window.
"I know," you smirked, moving to another spot on his neck to repeat the action. Your hand placed on his jaw as you moved his face to the side. Your tongue glided over the marks you left on his neck, a hiss coming from his lips at the slight burning sensation.
As the minutes passed by and you continued to tease him with your lips, he was getting more and more restless. And you could feel it. "Baby, please. I need to..I need to feel you around me," he whimpered again, pulling you out of his neck and meeting your firey eyes.
"Your wish is my command," you said, leaning in to capture his lips in a passionate kiss as you sat up on your knees, allowing him to pull down his boxers, his cock coming free and grazing against your thigh.
You leaned down to shift your lacy panties to the side, your wetness seeping through and dripping down onto Joe's lap, a throaty chuckle leaving his lips. "Even when you try to be in control, I still have you like this," he mumbled between the kiss as you grabbed his erection, using your thumb to spread the pre-cum along his slit before sliding it between your slick folds.
"We'll see," you smirked, sinking straight down onto his hard cock, a moan leaving his lips at the sudden contact.
"Y/N...," he moaned, his hands shifting down to grab your ass with a firm grip.
You placed your hands on his shoulders as you slid up and down his cock, your pace frantic and needy which matched the feeling you both shared in the moment. His head falls forward to rest on your shoulder, your hand inching into his hair as you pull him closer. His groans got louder, each one sending a jolt of pleasure throughout your body. "Yeah, you like that?" you whispered in his ear as you felt him buck into your core.
"Fuck, yeah," he moaned, his hands moving to grip your waist, the pads of his fingers digging deep into your skin. "Just like that, yeah,"
A shock of pleasure ripped through your veins, "You feel so good, Joey, sound so pretty for me," you moaned, feeling his tip hit your sweet spot as you leaned into him, his fully arms wrapping around your torso to steady you.
"My girl, you're doing so good, Y/N. I love...I love fucking you," he whimpered, his hips starting to snap up into yours in a way that drove you crazy. Each push of his cock into your wet heat felt like you were being brought into a new world; so intense and lively.
"Joey, ah," you moaned. "You're so...you make me feel so good," you moaned, feeling the way he gripped your hips and guided you back and forth on his cock.
You felt his hand inch up your back, his fingers finding the clasp of your lingerie top and undoing it in one easy motion. He quickly pulled the straps down, throwing the lacy piece across the room before attaching his lips to the skin of your breasts. "Oh," you whimpered, leaning back to give him enough room to work his magic on you.
"See?" he panted as he nipped at your skin. "This was for me, b- but, ah," he moaned once he felt you clench around him for a second, "I still have you like this,".
"You'll always have me like this, Joe," you whimpered, your legs starting to burn because of your movements. You threaded your fingers into his hair again, pulling him out of your chest and up to your lips, "Fuck, baby," you whined before he crashed his lips onto yours, his hips snapping up into yours even harder than before.
You picked up your movements as both your moans got louder and louder, the room now filled with sounds of skin hitting skin and your breathless whimpers. "Joe, I..I'm so close, mmph, fuck," you whined, dropping your head onto his chest as you slid up and down his shaft, your core starting to clench his cock more frequently.
"Shit, me too," he choked out, his breath hitting your ear as he melted into you with each rock of your hips and thrust of his thick cock. "I'm gonna cum, fuck...Y/N, I-," he said, getting quieter as he leaned into you more, his cock starting to twitch as he repeatedly slammed into your sweet spot.
You felt your eyes start to roll back, both your bodies moving at an uneven pace, "Cum for me, Joey. You did so good tonight, let it go," you whimpered in his ear.
"Oh, fuck," he hissed, "'Fuck, fuck. I f- forgot a condom, baby. W- where-,".
"In me," you moaned. "Cum in me, it's okay," you whined, your bundle of nerves begging for release as you felt Joe's cock thrust into your core with an intensity he could only display in front of you.
"Y/N," he whimpered, his cock stilling inside you after one final, rough thrust that caused your legs to shake. "Ahh, fuck," he hissed, throwing his head back against the headrest as his warm release filled your dripping core, the feeling of him filling you was something he could never get over. It made him feel so damn good, and you just loved to feel him inside you, any way shape, and form.
"Oh, fuck," you screamed, gripping his shoulders again as you guided yourself along his cock, "I- I'm-,".
"I've got you," he moaned, opening his eyes and briefly staring at the ceiling before looking back down at you and the way your lip was between your teeth, your eyes were screwed shut, and how your hair was sticking to your skin from the thin layer of sweat on your body.
He moved his hand down to your slick entrance, his thumb finding your clit, and all it took was a few seconds for you to come crashing down on his body. The expert movement of his skillful hands wasn't just useful on the football field. Hell, they might have been best used on you and not on the ball he throws every day. "Joe!" you screamed, falling into his chest as your core rhythmically clenched around his shaft, a wave of pleasure crashing over you while you felt your release drip onto his lap.
"God, I'm fucking obsessed with you," he mumbled as he peppered kisses around your neck, up your jaw, and to your mouth as you chanted his name over and over.
A few seconds later, you caught your breath, "Holy shit," you panted, your legs still shaking from your high as your body fell limp against his. "Fuck, that was...,".
He chuckled lowly, "Hot? Intense? Sweet?" his voice raspy in your ear as his hand slid up and down your back, tracing invisible shapes into your skin.
"Precisely," you giggled, pressing a kiss to his muscular chest. "Happy Halloween, babe. Hope you enjoyed your treat,".
He tilted your chin up, catching your gaze with that soft, unguarded look that always melted you. “Happy Halloween, baby. Thanks for tonight,” he whispered, brushing a kiss to your forehead before pulling you close again. As you snuggled against him, you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your cheek. His hand slid up to cradle your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. "You gave me the treat of a lifetime tonight. In more ways than just one," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I’ll never forget it,".
"I love you," you mumbled.
"I love you too," he smiled, dropping another kiss on your forehead before getting lost in your warmth.
"You know...since you're pretty comfortable with Halloween now...next year, we should throw our own Halloween Party at the house for everyone," you smiled against his chest.
Joe snapped his eyes open, "Woahh, baby steps," he laughed.
You couldn't help but smile, knowing just how far you'd come in the quest to make Mr. Anti-Halloween, Mr. Pro-Halloween. "Alright, alright," you teased, giving his chest a playful tap, "But we'll see what the future holds. Maybe you'll be the one planning it next year,".
His laughter vibrated through his chest, and he tightened his arms around you, his smile so soft and content. "You’ve already got me wrapped around your finger. I’ll do whatever you want, baby" he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.
"Good," you beamed. "I've already got your costume for next year in mind,".
"And what is it?" he asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.
You bit your lip and hid your face in his chest again before saying, "I know you said for our eyes only...but...I wanna see you in it as many times as I can,".
"Nope," he shook his head, already knowing what you were going to say. "No way in hell,".
"Yessss," you giggled while patting his chest. "You'd look so fucking sexy, I think every girl in Ohio would drop to their knees,".
Joe playfully rolled his eyes, "You know what? Fine. I'll wear the Joker costume, but only on one condition," he said.
"Okay, I'm listening," you nodded, your excitement bubbling beneath your skin already.
He smirked as he leaned down to level his mouth with your ear, "We repeat what we just did, right now," he rasped. "Right now, maybe again tomorrow night, and after we do the whole 'our eyes only' thing, and maybe make it a Halloween tradition and do this all over again next year,".
You gently leaned up, pressing your lips to his before saying, "Deal, Joker," then feeling his hands wrap around your hips and flip you over on the bed.
--the end--
495 notes · View notes
springtyme · 7 months ago
Text
𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐀𝐢𝐧'𝐭 𝐍𝐨 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 ♡
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐈'𝐦 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐝 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮
Spencer Reid x f!reader || Series masterlist || Series playlist
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Main masterlist || can also be read on ao3 || Next chapter
summary: After having worked for the BAU for two years, you have seen and experienced a lot, but after a series of murders of young married couples, you’re asked to do something that you never had thought you would have to do; going undercover, as an expecting, married couple, with Spencer Reid.
word count: 5.8k
warnings/tags: Eventual smut! (18+, mdni!) Undercover as a married couple. Pretend pregnancy. Language. Drinking. Angst and fluff. Slow burn. Mutual pining. Coworkers to lovers. Not set at a specific time, but definitely somewhere in the early seasons. Reader uses she/her pronouns. Mention of canon-typical violence.
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The table is a bit sticky, and the music could be better, but the drinks are decent and you’re just so happy to finally be out with your friends after what feels like forever. Your job is demanding, and being an FBI agent in the Behavioral Analysis Unit means that your work-life balance is almost non-existent. But tonight, you don’t want to think about the gruesome crime scenes or the long hours spent profiling and investigating violent crimes, all you want to do is have a good time and catch up with your friends. And finally having an occasion to dress up and feel cute isn’t bad either.  
Closing your glossed lips around the straw of your Strawberry Daiquiri, you take a long sip and let the sweet, icy drink cool your throat as you sit back in your chair, listening to the lively chatter of your friends. Michaela and Piper are going back and forth about some new movie that you haven’t had the time to watch yet, and you and Janelle, who is sitting across from you, are laughing at their antics as you listen to their debate with half an ear, but you focus shifts as Janelle gently nudge your shin under the table.
“That guy is totally checking you out,” Janelle says with a playful raise of her eyebrow, gesturing towards the bar with her eyes, as she takes a sip of her Mai Tai, while Michaela and Piper continue their discussion about whether the final plot twist of the movie was too predictable or an actual  genius twist.
You can’t help but let out a tired giggle and roll your eyes as you follow Janelle’s gaze, glancing over to the bar and catch the eye of a man who is indeed looking in your direction, but you quickly turn back towards your friend again. “I thought we had decided to just focus on having a girls’ night out tonight, no boys allowed?” you say, giving her a knowing look. She shrugs her shoulders and smiles jestingly.
“You can still appreciate the view, even if you’re not looking to buy,” she teases, taking another sip of her drink. You shake your head, laughing at her antics, but you can’t help but look over in the direction of the guy at the bar again. He catches your eye and flashes you a charming smile. He is cute, sure, but not cute enough for you to want to do anything about it. 
But to be fair, he could be the cutest guy in all of  D. C. and you probably still wouldn’t do anything about it. You don’t really have the time or energy for dating right now and you are not really currently in the mood for meaningless sex with a stranger either. 
Your job consumes so much of your life already, and you’re content with just focusing on your career, or at least that’s what you tell yourself. Sure, it would be nice to have someone to share your life with, but what you’ve learned over the last few years is that most guys don’t understand the demands and emotional toll of your job. They either can’t handle the long hours, and all the time you have to spend on cases, or the gruesome details of your work, or they simply can’t comprehend the darkness that you have to face on a daily basis. And so, you’ve built up walls to protect yourself, to shield yourself from potential heartbreak or disappointment.
“You sure it’s not you who he’s checking out?” you ask, trying to shift the focus of the conversation away from your lack of interest in dating. Janelle laughs and shakes her head. 
“No, I think he’s definitely into you,” she says, nudging you playfully. 
“Well, I’m not interested, so he is all yours, Nell,” you reply, taking another sip of your drink as you give her a playful wink. Janelle just laughs and shakes her head.
“Nah, I’m good. I’m just here to have a good time with my girlies,” she says, raising her glass in a toast, making Machaela and Piper forget their never-ending debate and cheerfully join in. 
Just as you’re about to raise your glass and join in the toast, your phone buzzes in your purse, interrupting the moment. You reach into your bag and pull out your phone, seeing Hotch’s familiar number flash across the tiny screen. 
“Sorry, I have to take this,” you say with a sigh, standing up from the table giving your friends an apologetic smile. Your friends nod understandingly, knowing that your job always comes first as you excuse yourself from the table and head to a quieter corner of the bar to take the call. You feel a wave of exhaustion wash over you, knowing that your night out with your friends is about to be cut short. 
“Yeah?” you answer, putting the phone to your ear, not bothering with any formalities as you know that Hotch is going straight to the point when he calls you outside of office hours.
“Sorry to interrupt your Friday night, but we’ve got a new case, high priority,” Hotch’s voice comes through the line, his tone serious and professional, but you can also hear the tired edge in his voice. It can’t be easy being the Unit Chief and always having to be on call, but you respect him for his dedication to the job. “I’m afraid I need you and the team back at the office ASAP.” 
“I’ll be there as soon as possible,” you say, already mentally preparing yourself to switch back into work mode.
“Great, thank you, agent,” Hotch says, and you can hear the gratitude in his voice before he hangs up. You can only imagine how shitty it must feel to have to call in your team on a Friday night only a few hours after everyone has left the office. But that’s the nature of the job, and you have accepted it a long time ago, even though it means sacrificing your personal life and plans at a moment’s notice. 
With a deep breath you take a moment to collect yourself, trying to shake off the disappointment of having to leave your friends behind. As you head back to the table to break the news to your friends, you can’t help but feel a pang of guilt for having to leave them hanging. They all look up at you expectantly, sensing the change in your demeanor. “I’m sorry guys, I have to go. Work…” you trail off, your voice apologetic, you hate having to disappoint them.
Michaela and Piper exchange sympathetic looks, while Janelle just nods understandingly. “It’s okay, we understand,” Janelle says, giving you a reassuring smile. 
“I’m sorry I have to cut the night short,” you say, feeling the weight of disappointment settling in your chest. 
“Hey, your job’s important, we’ll catch up another time,” Michaela says, standing up to give you a supportive hug. “And we are really proud of you, just so you know,” she adds, giving you a reassuring smile as she pulls back from the hug.
Suddenly you almost feel like you could cry. You spend so much time burying your emotions and focusing on the job that it almost feels overwhelming to be reminded that you have people outside of work who love and care about you. “Thank you, Kay,” you say, smiling back at her. You hug the others and say your goodbyes, before you quickly gather your things and prepare to head out and find a cab. 
· · · · ·
Spencer is abruptly pulled out of his slumber by the sound of his phone ringing. The book he had been reading sprawled open in his lap. The softness of the armchair and the long week of work finally caught up to him, and he must have dozed off. He blinks groggily as he fumbles to grab his phone. He squints at the screen, momentarily disoriented from being woken up so suddenly. Seeing it’s a call from Hotch, he quickly answers, his voice still thick with sleep.
“Hello?” Spencer mumbles, trying his hardest to sound awake and alert despite his groggy state.
“Reid, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but we have a new case, high priority. I need you and the others back at the office ASAP, we will have a briefing as soon as you’re all here,” Hotch’s voice comes through the line, terse and serious, but also tinged with exhaustion. 
Spencer’s heart sinks at the news, knowing that his plans of spending a quiet Friday night at home, recovering after a hard work week is now dashed, but he quickly pushes the book aside, already mentally preparing himself to switch into work mode.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he replies, removing his glasses that he had swapped his contacts out for earlier in the evening. Rubbing his eyes and sitting up straight, the sense of urgency now kicking in.
“Thank you, Reid,” Hotch says before ending the call, leaving Spencer to gather his things and head out to Quantico without delay.
As he makes his way out of his apartment and towards his car, he can’t help but feel a sense of disappointment at having his night disrupted once again by work. He had really been looking forward to a quiet night in, and finally enjoy a break. 
Spencer watches the city lights pass by in a blur as he begins to make his way out of D. C., the reality of his job sinking in once again. He knows that as a part of the BAU, his work is never truly done. The cases are always waiting, the criminals are always out there, and the demands of his job are always pressing. And while he loves what he does and finds fulfillment in helping to catch the most dangerous offenders, and having his mind challenged, there are days when he longs for a sense of normalcy, for a break from the darkness that seems to follow him everywhere he goes.
With a deep breath, he steels himself for the long night of driving and work ahead, knowing that he may not see his bed again for a while. 
· · · · ·
As you arrive back to Quantico, you rush into the FBI building, quickly making it through the security check. The heels of your stilettos click loudly against the floor as you hastily make your way to the conference room. The short, tight dress that had made you feel so confident just a few hours ago now makes you feel exposed and vulnerable as you walk through the sterile hallways of the building. 
You try to pull down the short hemline of your dress, as you push open the heavy door to the conference room, but it doesn’t change the fact that most of your thighs are on display and that your tits are almost spilling out of the low-cut neckline. It is so rare that you get the opportunity to dress up and feel sexy, so you might have gone a little overboard with your choice of outfit for a simple girls night, or at least that is how you feel now as you’re about to walk into a room full of your colleagues, who aren’t that used to see this side of you, and are about to hear about the details of a violent crime case.
As you step into the room, you see that Derek and Spencer are already sitting at the big round table, waiting for the rest of the team to show up, Hotch is probably in his office getting more details for the briefing before the entire team is here. They turn their heads in your direction as you enter, and you can feel their eyes lingering a moment longer than necessary, seemingly surprised to see you in such attire.
“Damn, princess, you clean up well,” Derek says with a smirk, giving you a once-over. “You had a hot date tonight or something?” 
You roll your eyes at his comment, knowing that he always loves to tease you about your personal life. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Morgan,” you reply with a raised brown and a playful smile, taking a seat at the table and crossing your legs and adjusting your dress as you sit down. 
“Of course, I would like to know, that’s why I asked,” Derek chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “You come in here looking like that, and you expect us not to ask questions? I just need to know, is he more handsome than me, should I be worried?” he teases, earning another playful eye roll from you.
“Can’t a girl just want to look good for a change, without it having to be for a man?” you shoot back.
“What do you mean, for a change? You always look good,” Derek counters with a charming smile, before he turns to Spencer, who has been awfully quiet this entire time. “Isn’t that right, pretty boy?”
Spencer looks up at Derek and then at you, a faint blush rising to his pale cheeks. His hair is slightly tousled and he is wearing his glasses, making him look even more adorable than usual. You don’t know if it is wrong of you to think of your colleague as adorable, he is a grown man and exceptionally capable of his job, you respect him a lot, but you just can’t help but find Spencer extremely endearing. 
“You don’t have to answer that, Spence,” you quickly interject, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable. You know that Spencer can be a bit awkward when it comes to social interactions and you don’t want Derek’s teasing to make him feel even more self-conscious.
You and Spencer have become good friends over the two years that have passed since you joined the BAU team, you and him are the youngest agents in the unit. You have always admired Spencer’s brilliant mind and his ability to remember almost everything he reads as well as his sweet, quirky personality. You have a mutual respect for each other’s intelligence and dedication to the job. You have also noticed the way he sometimes gets lost in his thoughts or stumbles over his words when he’s nervous, and you have always tried to support him and make him feel comfortable in social situations.
But despite being friends and good colleagues, there’s also always been a slightly awkward tension between you and Spencer, at least on your end, it’s not like it’s there all the time, but you do feel it from time to time. You are not even sure where it comes from or why it’s there, but there’s something about Spencer that can make you feel slightly flustered and unsure of yourself, if you ever stop to think about it. It’s probably just because you admire him so much and don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of someone you respect so deeply.
“No, it’s okay,” Spencer says, his usual rambling tone coming through as he speaks. “You do look very nice, tonight. Wait, no, I mean, Morgan is right you always look nice, but you also look real nice tonight,” he stammers, stumbling over his words as he tries to explain himself. 
You can’t help but smile at his adorable awkwardness, grateful that Derek’s teasing didn’t faze him too much. “Thank you, Spence,” you say, giving him a kind smile and reaching out to pat his arm reassuringly, hoping to ease his discomfort. “I appreciate it.”
“Oh, so when it is him you appreciate it, I see how it is,” Derek jokes, earning a playful shove from you. 
“Shut up, Morgan, you know that I love you,” you say with a laugh, playfully rolling your eyes at him, which makes him laugh, but you don’t get to continue your banter as the rest of the team starts to filter in, Hotch enters the room with a stack of case files in hand, his usual stoic expression in place as he takes his seat at the head of the table to begin the briefing. 
“Thank you all for coming with such short notice,” Hotch starts, his voice authoritative and commanding. “We have a new case that just came in and it’s classified as high priority. A series of brutal murders have been reported in Northern California. Local police have finally reached out to us for assistance after multiple cases after two new victims were found earlier in the day. They have all been double murders, with the assumption that the victims have been stalked for a while beforehand, and are then killed in a very specific and violent manner. All have been young married couples, all under thirty, and in all of the cases, the female victim has been between five and nine months pregnant.”
As Hotch continues to outline the details of the case, you can feel the weight of the seriousness of the situation settle in the room. You are usually able to compartmentalize your emotions and focus on the task at hand, but the thought of innocent lives being taken in such a violent manner always hits a nerve and you feel a chill run down your spine as Hotch describes the details of the case, the gravity of the situation sinking in. This is a disturbing and horrific case, one that hits close to home for you as a woman. 
As Hotch finishes the briefing he turns to Spencer. “Reid, I would like to have a word with you in my office. The rest of you, start looking into the evidence and see if we can find any leads or patterns that may help us track down the unsub.”
You watch as Spencer nods in acknowledgment, it’s clear that he is a bit confused about being called into Hotch’s office alone, as he follows Hotch out of the room, leaving you and the rest of the team to start digging into the case files and evidence.
· · · · ·
“Please take a seat,” Hotch says as he gestures towards the chair in front of his desk, as Spencer follows him into his office. Spencer feels slightly anxious as he takes a seat, his eyes searching Hotch’s face for any clues as to why he’s been called into his office while Hotch takes his seat behind the desk. Hotch clears his throat before speaking, his tone serious and professional. “I have something to ask you to do, and it’s not a small thing,” Hotch begins, his eyes fixed on Spencer. “I need you to think carefully before you answer.” 
Spencer can feel how his heart starts to race, his mind already trying to anticipate what Hotch is about to ask him. “What is it?” he asks, his voice steady despite his growing nerves. Hotch takes a moment to gather his thoughts before he speaks again. 
“I’ve spoken with the local authorities in California, as well as our own expert and with the circumstances of the case and lack of leads, we have decided that the best way to proceed is to send in two undercover agents that fits the profile of the victims, and I want to ask you to be one of those agents.” 
Spencer’s eyes widen in surprise, his mind racing with the implications of such a task. Going undercover in a case like this would be incredibly risky, not to mention emotionally taxing and it is not something he has much expertise in.
“I understand that this is a big ask, but you fit the profile of the victims and your ability to think on your feet and adapt in high-pressure situations makes you the best candidate for this job,”  Hotch explains, his eyes searching Spencer’s face for any sign of hesitation.
Spencer takes a moment to process Hotch’s words. He can see the logic in Hotch’s reasoning with the specific details of the case and the lack of leads; it might be the best way to proceed, and Spencer knows that it is only done when absolutely necessary. “And you’re sure I’m the best agent for the job, I don’t have much experience with undercover work,” Spencer says, keeping his voice as steady as he can while feeling the uncertainty within himself. 
“You’re more than capable, Reid. Your intelligence and quick thinking are your strongest assets, and we have full confidence in your abilities. I would never ask this of you if I was not fully convinced that you are fit for this job. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I also know that you have it in you to handle it,” Hotch reassures him, his tone firm and unwavering. 
Spencer nods, taking a deep breath as he processes the weight of the task that has been given to him. This is a very serious assignment, one he knows is crucial to solving the case and bringing justice to the victims. “If you believe I can do it, then I’ll do it,” Spencer says finally, his voice resolute. 
Hotch nods, a sense of relief crossing his features. “Thank you, Reid. This means a lot to the case, and I know you will do a great job,” he says, his voice showing his appreciation. 
Spencer reciprocates the nod, feeling a surge of determination coursing through him. It’s a lot to take in, and it takes his usually so fast thinking mind a second to realize that he won’t be going undercover alone. “Who will be the other agent going undercover with me?” Spencer asks, wanting to know who he will be partnering with.
“I have someone in mind, but I want to make sure that she is on board before we move forward.” 
“Is it, Y/L/N?” Spencer can’t help but ask, his mind already considering the possibilities of who he is going to work undercover with, and you are the person in the unit that would fit the profile of the victim the best. He really hopes it’s gonna be you, even though a part of him also doesn’t want you to be put in a potentially dangerous position. Spencer knows that your skills and intelligence would complement his own in such a high-stakes situation. And most importantly he just really likes being around you. You are always so kind to him and you never fail to make him feel included and supported. 
Hotch nods. “Yes, she fits the profile as well and I believe that she has the expertise for this kind of operation. I will speak with her and see if she is willing to take on this assignment. I trust that the two of you will work well together on this case and you seem to get along well, and that’ll be important in this case. I’ll have to be sure that the agents I’m sending in can deliver a believable performance.”
And that is when it really dawns on Spencer, the two of you are not just going into a dangerous situation together, you will also have to pretend to be a couple, a young married couple expecting a child. He had been so caught up in the seriousness of the assignment and the potential risks involved that he hadn’t even considered that part of going undercover with you. 
The thought of pretending to be a married couple with you, even if it’s just for the sake of the operation, sends a wave of feelings and thoughts through him, too many at once for him to fully process. Sure, it’s all part of the job, but the idea of being so close to you and having to maintain that facade is a challenge he’s not sure he’s fully prepared for. The idea of playing the role of your husband, even if it’s just for work, is both exhilarating and absolutely terrifying at the same time. 
But as Spencer looks into Hotch’s eyes, he sees the trust and confidence that his boss has in him, and he knows that he can’t back down now. He has a job to do, and he will do it to the best of his abilities, alongside you. 
· · · · ·
After Hotch and Spencer left the conference room, you and the other agents moved back to your desks to go through the evidence and case files. You are now wrapped in the cardigan that usually hangs from the back of your desk chair and you feel a little more office appropriate. 
“Damn, this is a tough one,” Derek says, shaking his head as he scans through the crime scene photos. “The level of violence in these murders is just brutal.” 
You nod in agreement as you flip through your own stack of evidence, looking up from the file in your hand as Spencer and Hotch emerge from Hotch’s office, Spencer walking down the stairs to join the team, but Hotch stays back, his expression serious and you get a little surprised when he addresses you.
“Can I have a word with you in my office?” Hotch says, his tone somber before he steps back into his office. 
You can’t help but feel a sense of urgency as you put down the file in your hand and get up from your desk. You pass Spencer at the foot of the stairs, his eyes flicking down to meet yours. “Everything okay?” you ask, a hint of concern in your voice. Spencer nods, but there is something in his eyes you can’t quite read. 
“Yeah, uh… yeah, Hotch will explain,” he says, his voice slightly tense, and a slight crease is formed between his brows  but the look in his brown eyes are soft as they meet yours. 
“Okay,” you whisper, giving him a small smile, before  you quickly step up the stairs, or at least as quickly as you can in your five inch heels. You feel a small knot of anxiety starting to form in your stomach as you step into the office, wondering what this is about.
The door clicks shut behind you, and you feel the weight of Hotch’s gaze on you as you stand in front of his desk. “Please, sit down,” Hotch says, his tone grave as he gestures towards the chair in front of him. You take a seat, feeling a sense of unease settling in your stomach.
Hotch’s expression is unreadable as he looks at you, and for a moment, you can’t help but wonder what all of this is about.
“I have a very big thing to ask from you, agent, and I want you to know that I’m asking this of you because I trust you can handle it. It’s a request, but the choice is fully up to you,” Hotch starts, his voice steady but filled with seriousness. “Due to the lack of leads and the nature of these murders, we have come to the decision to send in two undercover agents who fit the profile of the victims to try and draw out the unsub, and I would like to ask you to be one of those agents. Agent Reid has already agreed to take on the assignment, the two of you match the victim profiles, and I truly believe that with your skills and expertise, you would be the perfect choice for this task.” 
You lean back in your chair as you let Hotch’s words sink in. So this is why Hotch wanted to talk with Spencer. Going undercover on a case as gruesome and high stakes as this is not something to take lightly, but with the circumstances of the case and the lack of current leads you can see the logic in it. It’s a risky move, but you know that sometimes risky moves are necessary in order to catch the unsub and bring justice to the victims. 
“I know that this is a very big thing for me to ask of you, and I want you to know that I fully understand if you have any reservations or concerns,” Hotch continues, his tone earnest. “But I also believe that you have what it takes to handle this assignment, and your dedication to the job is unparalleled. I wouldn’t ask this of you if I wasn’t convinced that you could handle it.” 
“I understand the gravity of this assignment, Hotch,” you say, your voice calm and steady, wanting to reassure him that you are aware of the importance of the task at hand. “I am aware of the risks involved, and if you think I’m the right person for the job, then I’ll do it.” 
Hotch nods, his features softening. “Thank you, agent. I know this is a lot to ask, but I have full confidence in your abilities and I truly believe that you and Reid will be able to handle this assignment with the utmost professionalism.” 
You nod in acknowledgment, a surge of determination coursing through you by your decision. You also can’t help but feel a sense of relief wash over you at the fact that Spencer will be the person going undercover with you. You trust him implicitly and that makes you feel a sense of ease.
“I will arrange for a briefing with you and Agent Reid to go over the details of the assignment. You’ll also have to go through a training course while we set up a location for the undercover operation, and you will of course be given your undercover identities. I’ll inform the rest of the team about the assignment,” Hotch’s words are firm and decisive, and you can see the weight of responsibility in his expression. “But you better get home and get some rest. You have a long and intense process ahead of you, agent,” he adds, a softer tone creeping into his voice.
“Copy that,” you reply as you stand up from your chair. Soon you’re back down in the bullpen, standing at your desk as you gather your belongings and start to make your way out of the office. Just as you’re about to close your purse, you catch Spencer’s eye from where he’s standing over at his own desk, and as you give him a tired smile, which he mirrors, you swing your purse over your shoulder and walk over to his desk. 
“So, Hotch asked you?” Spencer says as you approach him, his brown eyes meeting yours. You nod, the weight of the assignment settling in as you face each other. 
“Yeah, he did. Looks like we’re partners in this one,” you reply, smiling at him once again.
Spencer nods, a small smile of his own tugging at the corners of his lips. You both stand there for a short moment, the weight of the assignment hanging heavily between you, before Spencer breaks the silence. “Do you need me to walk you to your car? I know the parking lot is just outside and that we have security, but still.”
You feel a wave of gratitude wash over you for his offer, and you can see the concern in his eyes as he looks at you, but that is also when you remember that you didn’t drive here yourself.
“Thank you, that’s really sweet of you,” you say, feeling touched by his concern. “But I actually didn’t drive here tonight, I took a cab.”
“You took a cab all the way from D. C.?!”
You laugh at his surprised expression. “Yeah, I was out, I didn’t have my car and I also had had a few drinks.”
“You should have called me, I could have picked you up and we could have driven together,” he says, his tone filled with genuine concern. You can’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness.
“I appreciate that, Spence. Maybe next time,” you say, giving him a grateful smile. You know that Spencer is always willing to go above and beyond to help his friends and colleagues, and you can’t help but feel extra lucky to have him as a partner in this assignment. 
“Well, you have a ride back home now,” he says, offering you a gentle smile.
“That’s nice,” you reply, with a bright smile, feeling very grateful for his offer. You had expected to get a lift from one of your colleagues when you drove out here, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to get hold of a cab this late out here, but it feels really nice that you didn’t even have to ask for one. 
“Of course,” Spencer replies, his smile growing wider. Soon the two of you are stepping out of the FBI building and are met with the brisk night air, your feet are hurting and the cool air makes goosebumps rise on your skin. But almost before you get to register it, Spencer has removed his jacket and offers it to you. “You must be cold,” he says, giving you a kind look. You try to protest, but he insists, draping the jacket over your shoulders.
“Thanks,” you mumble, not feeling like protesting further as soon as the warm feeling of the jacket engulfs you. 
Once you reach his car, he opens the door for you and you slide into the passenger seat, feeling a sense of gratitude for his kindness. “You want this back?” you ask, removing the jacket from your shoulder. You don’t really feel ready to give up the warm garment, but you also don’t want to assume that he offered it for more than just the walk to the car. 
Spencer shakes his head as he settles into the driver’s seat and you watch him start the engine. “No, you just keep it.” You smile happily as you toe off your shoes and curl up in the seat draping the jacket over your bare legs, feeling like it is enveloping you in a comfortable cocoon of warmth and safety as Spencer starts the car and begins the drive back towards D. C.
The landscape passes by in a blur outside the window as the two of you drive in comfortable silence, the both of you seemingly getting lost in your own thoughts for a little while. The weight of the assignment in front of you settles heavily between you.
“I’m really grateful that you’re going to be my partner on this assignment,” Spencer breaks the silence eventually, his voice soft but filled with sincerity. 
“Me too,” you reply, turning to look at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. 
Another comfortable stretch of silence fills the car as you continue on your way back to the city. Despite trying to fight it, your eyes start to feel immensely heavy. Fatigue from a long day and the weight of the impending assignment finally catching up to you, and with the gentle lull of the car you never really stood a chance and soon you are starting to doze off, slowly sliding into the sweet embrace of sleep as you sink deeper into the soft car seat.
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Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated :) let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapter ♡ edit: it would especially be nice if you reblog when you ask to be added to the tag list ♡
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angelsforthenight · 1 month ago
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take care of me…
ellie williams x fem! reader
cw: mdni, modern AU, sub! ellie, dom! reader, loser!ellie, established relationship, use of vibrator, cunnilingus, slight degrading, overstimulation, bush! ellie 🤑, begging, crying, cursing, sub-space, aftercare + some fluff at the end :3
WHAT IS SUB-SPACE? sub-space is an altered state of consciousness that can happen during BDSM play. typically it’s when the bottom gets all high and floaty. subs in subspace may have a higher pain tolerance, have difficulty speaking, and lose all sense of time.
“nn—nnhhh… i can’t— i can’t, y/n, please.” ellie gasps out, on the cusp of release. she feels too much, too overwhelmed by the plethora of different sensations. grabbing your hair for some sort of anchor, her jaw falls slack: pathetic whines and pleasured sobs tumbling from her lips as they melt against the loud humming of the vibrator nudged against her clit. and your mouth only keeps moving.
hold on, run that back. wanna know how you got here?
“babe, i’m not even kidding, i think i ripped out a tastebud.” ellie’s been complaining about this for the entire day, but doing nothing about it. to be frank, it’s been pissing you off a little. ellie could just as well get up and take a look in the mirror for herself, but for some reason she insists on you checking it out.
this isn’t the first time you’ve had to play doctor. don’t get it twisted, it’s cute! having to take care of your girlfriend is a gift you want to keep safe in an enclosed haven. but only when something has actually happened.
when false alarms happen one too many times, it’s only natural you get at least a little annoyed, and you’re very positive that this moment is another one of that case, yet you never seem to get enough. you set the book you were reading down, sitting up on your bed.
“let me see.” you sigh, placing your fingers on her chin, tilting her head up. ellie sticks her tongue out and to no surprise at all, there’s nothing.
“you’re kidding me, right?”
“what? no! i just hurt my tongue so bad trying to shred the guitar!” ellie says defensively.
“well then you’re stupid.” you laugh, “who the hell does that?”
“jimi hendrix does…” she mumbles sullenly, hanging her head low and so very clearly trying to make you pity her and give in. and alas, it’s working.
“stop pouting and come here.” you roll your eyes, even if there’s a hint of a smile on your lips. ellie lights up too, shuffling closer and opening her mouth again.
you scrutinise your stare. it’s a little red, yes, but that’s the entire tip of her tongue. if ellie ripped out a tastebud like she claims she did, she would have at least been bleeding a little bit.
meanwhile, ellie keeps her eyes trained on you. it’s so quiet in the room apart from the whirring fan noises and the sounds of cars driving past every now and then. she likes seeing you all focused, with your attention on nothing else but her. secretly, that’s why she’s always pestering you about meaningless injuries.
“you didn’t tell me where…” you murmur, but you leave no space for her to respond when you clamp her tongue down with your thumb and forefinger; pulling her tongue down a little further so you can get a closer look. the pad of your thumb drags across it to feel something, even if you don’t know what it is you’re really looking for. ellie’s caught off guard by this move. in fact, it projects her into this sudden state of being very aware of what you two are doing, the feel of your fingers in her mouth, on her tongue. she can’t help but fidget, getting distracted.
“don’t move.” you mutter, oblivious to the way ellie’s feeling. that firm command stirs her up even more, her breathing uncontrollably growing heavier. she tries to lock in, but with the way she’s suddenly conscious? horny? fuuuck, it’s difficult. you feel her hot breath fan against your knuckles.
“if you ripped out a tastebud then you would’ve been bleed—“ you trail off in the middle of your sentence when you glance up at ellie. her cheeks are a light shade of pink, prominent even under the warm amber glow of your bedroom lamp lights. her eyebrows are arched upwards, staring at you with this helpless look on her face. she looks so, undeniably pathetic. surprised, you let go of her tongue.
ellie looks away, wiping her mouth with her fist. you realise she’s very faintly trembling.
“ellie…” you murmur softly.
“what are we gonna have for dinner, by the way? you cooked yesterday but i’m very shit at cooking so we could order door-dash but at the same time we did door-dash the day before yesterday and the day before-before so..” she begins to ramble, clearly flustered and embarrassed. you smile.
“ellie.” you say again, taking her hands in yours. she pauses, staring at you. her chest heaves, eyes all big and yielding.
“let’s do this again, ‘kay? wanna tell me what you really want?” you say slowly, and the way your tone is soft makes ellie’s head feel foggy. she takes a deep breath, which almost sounds like a whine.
“i… um…” ellie’s always had trouble communicating what she wants. she avoids your gaze, trying to find the right words to say. she feels like a glop of slime, slowly melting. you give her an encouraging smile, brushing your thumb against the back of her palm in repeated back and forth motions.
“i want you… to, um— i need you to take care of me.” her voice crackles with neediness, urgency laced in her tone. her lips are quivering. you can tell how bad she wants this, but you can’t help but prod her some more.
“take care of you how? lots of ways i can do that.” your voice is consistently soft, almost cooing. ellie’s mind keeps on slipping into this hazy state, lips quivering and eyes half-slits.
“y-you know. i don’t have to tell you…”
“damn right you do.” you tut. “you’re gonna use your words and tell me what you want. i’m not inside your brain now, am i?” the slight change in tone makes ellie flinch, as she’d quite frankly die before disappointing you. you can literally see the cogs in her head moving, calculating what to say so that you’re able to give her what she wants and simultaneously not being bad.
her eyebrows arch again, subtly scooting even closer to you so that her knees are pressed directly against yours.
“can we… uh… like, have sex? like you touching me and stuff?” she whispers, as if somebody else could hear. you initially try to stifle in your laughter, but it slips out.
“oh yeah? how do you want it?” you giggle, amused by the way ellie’s fumbling over her words and constructing her sentences in this weird, adorable way. ellie scowls, not finding this the least bit funny.
“stop laughing at me.”
“how do you want it?” you repeat, grinning.
“i don’t know, you can do anything you want… just… please. i need to cum.” ellie groans, but it sounds more like a helpless mewl. you stare at her whilst ellie fidgets in her seat, eyes repeatedly flicking between your eyes, your lips and your lap. you can’t help but ‘awww’ in pity.
“anything, yeah? don’t hold your word against me, okay?” you raise your brows, expecting a response. ellie shudders in excitement.”
“okay.”
so next thing you know, you two are kissing whilst ellie’s propped up on your lap. you’re aware of how she's grinding on you; trying to give herself flickers of stimulation. you let it happen, occasionally teasing her by bucking your own hips up. whenever you do so, ellie has a hard time kissing you back, losing composure and moaning in your mouth. it’s the hottest thing.
you pull away so you can marvel at the look on ellie’s face; quietly panting for breath whilst she stares at you with the most pliant look. so malleable it’s as if you could bend her into anything you wanted with just a command.
you smush your lips against hers again, only you’re more greedy this time: pushing forwards so you both drop onto the bed. you intertwine your fingers with hers, peppering wet kisses on her neck. the way your lips tug on her skin compiles ellie into mush, with no thoughts running through her head. she whimpers, eyes fluttering shut as her back arches, chest against chest. you continue to administer neck-kisses, leaving a few selfish marks whilst your free hand slowly inches it’s way towards ellie’s pants, tugging it down. ellie’s in her own world: wriggling free from the confines of her sweatpants as her head lolls against the pillow. next, your hand quietly reaches for the drawer. ellie’s eyes are closed, so she doesn’t realise when you pull out a vibrator with the head of a cute bear. you bite your lip, stifling in your amused excitement when you press the machine against ellie’s clothed cunt. ellie harshly gasps, eyes flying open before groaning.
“oh, i fucking hate you…” she laughs, head plopping back down, “you just had… to go for the— stupid bear one…” her words keep on getting broken up by moans slipping out.
“do you like this?” you grin. a wet spot slowly fades in the centre of ellie’s underwear. ellie whines when you heighten the setting. “yes or no?”
“yes….” ellie squeaks. “can we… t-take… aaah…” ellie’s having a hard time speaking with the vibrator flush against her. her underwear is growing wetter and wetter, outlining her vulva clearly. her stomach tightens.
“hmmmm?” ellie’s thighs twitch in delight at the sensation, back arching as she seeks out for more.
“my underwear… take it off, please.” she gasps out, her entire body buzzing. you turn the vibrator off so she has time to breathe, deciding to be nice for now: serving as a prior make-up for how much you’re going to ruin the poor girl. that’s why you do what she’s asked of you, slowly pulling off her undies. ellie shivers at the way it rolls down her legs, twitching at the air fanning her now bare cunt. your place your hand at the top of her mound, fingers spreading through her pubes as your thumb grazes against her folds, slightly opening it and watching as the juices eagerly flow out. you unconsciously lick your lips, pupils darkening. ellie watches you and blushes.
“you’re this needy? just ‘cuz of the tongue thing?” you taunt whilst ellie whines in response. you dip your head in between her legs, tongue flicking out to get a taste. “ohhhh my god, yesyesyesyes…” ellie whispers. you’re hungry, munching on her pussy like you’ve been starving for damn near weeks. ellie’s back flies off the bed, her hands desperately gripping the sheets.
“pathetic…” you mumble, and ellie moans at the way the word thrums against her pussy, sending vibrations in her entire body. her moans unabashedly rip out of her lips at the way you kiss and suck her heat. the frenzy consumes her, as her body jerks uncontrollably. to induce the cruelty, you suddenly pause: an idea flicking through your head like a light bulb.
“i’m really gonna mess you up. sorry, baby…” you murmur but ellie couldn’t care any less, so goddamn needy for release she’ll accept anything you give her. you grab the discarded bear-head and press down against her clit, the setting even higher than last time. it elicits loud reactions from ellie, helpless whimpers tumbling from her lips as she receives thrum after thrums of pleasure.
to make matters (better) worse, you resume your pussy-licking, so ellie can feel both the vibrator and your lips on her mound. ellie cries out, thighs instinctively trying to close themselves up. your hand firmly presses down on her thigh, keeping them open.
“nn—nnhhh… i can’t— i can’t, y/n, please.” ellie gasps out, on the cusp of release. she feels too much, too overwhelmed by the plethora of different sensations. grabbing your hair for some sort of anchor, her jaw falls slack: pathetic whines and pleasured sobs tumbling from her lips as they melt against the loud humming of the vibrator nudged against her clit. and your mouth only keeps moving.
you’re putting the work in, going to town on her and really fucking her up. thick tears stream down her face from how insanely good it all feels, her entire body twitching and jolting. your tongue laps strongly, whilst the vibrator is on the highest setting it can be. ellie’s bordering on becoming animalistic, letting out grunts and loud moans.
“g-gonna cum.. —cumming, i’m cumming..” ellie babbles pathetically, seldom coherent. jolting sharply, she grips your hair tightly, in which you groan from the slight pain, as you feel her warm juices flowing in your mouth. ellie pants as you turn the bear-head off, lifting your head up to glance at ellie.
you did succeed in breaking the hell out of her. there’s a heavy, dazed look written across her face; eyes glazed-over and as if she’s not really here. she looks boneless yet plush. you lift yourself up, gazing at her softly. it’s understandable she’s entered into sub-space after what they’ve just done.
“oh, baby…” you whisper, lifting her up so you two are sitting. ellie complies silently, weakly wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her face in the crook of your neck. there is no train of thought running through her head, and it’s almost as if she’s unconscious whilst fully awake. you run your fingers through her hair, kissing her head.
“my sweet girl… you did so good. so proud of you.” you whisper in her ear. ellie hums in response, burying her face even more. she’s all blissed out, liking the way the tip of your nails dance across her scalp. it makes her feel safe, but most of all loved.
hours later, when you two do end up ordering door-dash for the third time this week, ellie ends up flatly denying the state she had been in earlier.
“nope. no idea what you’re talking about.” she says, yet unable to hide her sheepish smile.
a/n: my singular contribution to kinktober 🧎‍♀️also i am a suuuuucker for sub! ellie like i was so giggly writing this!!! lmk if u were too (˶˃ᆺ˂˶)!!
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