#although he has to squeeze through the sliding doors just off the kitchen to actually fit in

[softquietsteadylove]

Hello Darling! Love your Thenamesh Pokémon AU and I have a prompt request :)

let’s say Thenas entire Pokémon team gets poisoned because something is wrong with the pokefood (let’s say team rocket is doing some dumb shit again). So Thena ask Gil if he can help because all the Pokémon healing centers are filled with poisoned Pokémon.

And Gil being a absolutely sweet man helps and cares for her Pokémon as well as the others at the ranger station.

Some soft moment where Thena watches Gil how caring and sweet he is! Maybe some fluff in the end between them?

It was in the water, it was determined. The ranger centre - and every pokemon centre for half a region's distance - was overrun with poisoned pokemon.

It was an environmental pollution case, and poised for a huge class action lawsuit, from what the news was reporting. A few major companies, from Silph Co. to the Devon Corporation, were expected to face massive backlash from it.

The Pokemon Ranger Association was expected to head the actions taken against them. Even then, the rangers on active duty were running around with their heads cut off trying to keep up with the mass poisoning. Luckily it was a relatively light condition, nothing that antidote supplies and pecha berries couldn't help. Curing would just take a little time--and a lot of pokemon centre help.

Gil was supposed to be out there helping, too. And he had, through his standard shift. He had been herding poisoned pokemon all morning, having called on every steel type they could find, as well as any ground type willing to simply help them out. He had been working tirelessly.

And still he came right over to Thena's after work to help with her pokemon.

She had called him in a panic at the first signs of the toxicity in them. She used such specialised home blends for their pokechow, she couldn't fathom how they had all gotten the signs of mild poisoning. Gil had told her that they were investigating it, but the likely cause was the water. He told her to shut off her water main, run all her taps dry, order some bottled water for delivery and wait for him.

"How are they doing?" he whispered as he closed the door behind him.

It was quite a scene.

Gallade was laid on the couch, curled on his side with a blanket and a cool cloth on his forehead for the reactionary fever. Ninetales was curled up as tight as she could go on her bed, all of her tails draped over her body like an extra blanket. She also had a blanket laid over her.

He had to assume that the freezer door was open because Froslass was either hovering right in front of it or inside the freezer itself.

"I gave them each a pecha berry every half hour, and I already used all the antidotes in the house," Thena sighed, rocking a miserable little Teddiursa in her arms with a frown. "I ordered more but, well, I'm sure you know."

There was about to be a region wide supply shortage. They were already in the midst of it, most likely. He set down his bag and took his hat off.

"How's Dragonite?" she whispered, rubbing Teddiursa's forehead while he was swaddled up in a blanket of his own.

"Good, actually," Gil managed to smile amidst the misery around them. "We generally use the bottled water from the machines while we're out in the field, so we got off pretty easy."

"Thank Arceus," Thena sighed, although she was looking down at her whiny little cub with misty eyes. "I just wish I could do more for them."

"I know," Gil whispered, putting a hand on her shoulder. She had called him specifically because she knew the pokemon centres would all be completely overrun. And with her very specific team, she was just as equipped to handle them here at home as any care unit.

Teddiursa pried his glassy eyes open, "Ursa."

"I know, buddy," Gil sighed, also ruffling their little bear's fur between his droopy ears. "Your tummy hurts, huh?"

The cub curled into Thena, as he did when he was a baby first getting used to the world outside Thena's house.

Gil picked up his bag and set it on the counter, "I was asking some Tropius how they were handling things, and they offered some knowledge about the berries that might help. They said that cherri and pecha berries mixed might provide some comfort."

"Cherri?--for paralysis?" Thena asked as Gil dumped out the collection of berries. "Pecha must be hard to come by too, I imagine."

"Well," Gil smiled at her gently, "a group of Quagsire from the lower caves remembered a very nice trainer who came to their aid not too long ago and shared their stash with me."

Thena sniffled.

"Okay," Gil whispered, cutting up the berries and mixing them as Thena pulled out a pot and poured in water they both knew they didn't exactly have to spare. "This should help you guys feel a little better.

"Froslass," the ghost pokemon apparated, just to see what was going on.

"I'm sorry," Thena whispered to her poor ice type, patting the spot between her little icicle-horns on her head. "We're just going to cook up a little soup. I'll chill yours for you."

"Fross," the pokemon muttered before disappearing from sight again, curling up in the freezer to try and endure her symptoms.

"I hate to think about how some of the other pokemon are doing with this," Thena frowned as Gil stirred around the soup, cutting up a few oran berries as well, just to give them back a little energy.

"This morning was rough, but when I was getting off we were just starting to get our heads above water."

Thena rocked Teddiursa against her as Gil tasted the berry mixture before adding a few vitamins for good measure. Once they were incorporated he ladled out a few bowls, handing one to Thena to put in the fridge before giving it to Froslass.

"Here we go," Gil whispered as he held up a bowl to Teddiursa's muzzle, tipping it to him gently. "I know it doesn't taste as good as Mama's pokechow, but it'll help your tummy."

"Teddi," the little bear whimpered before accepting the medicine. He knew better than to refuse it in Thena's presence.

"Good work," she whispered, kissing the fur between his ears as he drank up. She accepted the bowl from Gil smoothly as he went to her other pokemon with theirs.

"Think you can sit up, bud?" Gil asked Gallade, who groaned but pulled himself up to lean against the armrest of the couch. Gil handed him the bowl. "There's some HP Up, in there--just a little, though."

"Gallade," the pokemon uttered its thanks. No matter its opinions on Ranger Gil and his relationship to its trainer, Gallade had to admit that the human man was nothing if not reliable.

Gil patted his shoulder, leaving him to feed himself. He was sure that the viciously independent pokemon wouldn't have accepted being fed - by anyone but Thena - anyway. He moved on to Ninetales, "c'mere, sweetie."

"Nine," she whined, barely emerging from her little knot of tails to peek at him.

"I know, girl," Gil assuaged the poor fire type. "You're not made for this. But I've got something that'll help, okay?"

Thena watched as Gil held the bowl just off the ground, tilted so Ninetales could eat from it without having to stand. He really got off an exhausting shift of taking care of everyone else's pokemon just to come here and hand feed hers.

"Teddi?"

"Is that a little better?" Thena whispered down to her poor little baby bear. He snuggled back into his blanket cocoon and turned his head in against her shoulder.

She would take that as a reluctant 'yes'.

She opened the fridge, testing the temperature of the sweet and sour soup before holding it up. "It's nice and cool, just how you like it."

"Froslass," the ghost appeared, accepting it with a miserable nod of thanks before digging in.

That was the sign that things really were bad. Froslass never let anyone watch it eat--it wasn't in its nature to allow such a vulnerability, even in its own home.

Gil looked up as Thena took a seat on the floor next to him, leaning against his shoulder as he let Ninetales finish her serving. He set the bowl down, petting their fox pokemon on the snout before nudging Thena lightly. "Hey."

"Hey," she whispered back, looking intently at Teddiursa's restless sleeping face. But he was sleeping, and she was grateful.

Gil nudged her again, asking her to look at him. She was exhausted, obviously having been awake since she caught the first signs in her poor team. Her eyes were bloodshot and misty, her skin was pale, he could tell she had cried a little here or there. He pressed his forehead to hers. "How are you doing?"

"I hate seeing them like this," she whispered, inhaling gently as she let Gil's warmth seep into her. "Battling is one thing. Injuries, status conditions--I know how to handle those. But this-"

"I know," he comforted, moving to press his lips to her forehead. She moved closer, tucking her head under his against his shoulder. "How are you feeling? Did you drink anything from the tap this morning?"

"Barely," she sighed. "I saw on the news that humans are less likely to be affected based on volume per mass. I wish I could take it on for them."

Gil nodded, smiling at Ninetales, whose tails perked up to wag just a little. Thena was a good trainer, and they could ask for no one more caring and loyal to have by their sides.

"Gallade."

Thena puffed out a little breath as she felt Gallade drape a blanket over her shoulders from behind her. "Don't you dare get up off that couch, mister."

"Gal," he sighed, already lying back down and pulling the blanket off the back of the couch for himself again.

"Y'know," Gil yawned, "maybe we should try out some sleep powder on 'em. Could help them sleep off some of the symptoms."

"That's a-" Thena paused, the contagious nature of Gil's yawn catching her in her own, "good idea."

"I'll ask Dragonite," Gil mumbled, turning over his watch gear to send a message to his partner, who had offered to work a double to help out with the situation (and free up Gil to help Thena).

"Altaria," Thena mumbled, bringing up her beloved pokemon who was officially retired from battling and released into the wild. It stopped in regularly between migration seasons, though. "It might still know Sing."

Gil nodded, feeling Thena's fatigue seeping into him. "You should get some sleep."

"Speak for yourself," Thena mumbled right back, already slipping further and further into sleep.

Teddiursa snuggled against her as she laid down. She instinctively pulled him closer to her, as she did when he slept in her bed for the first few months of his life with her.

Ninetales and Gallade, with their combined psychic abilities, expended what energy they had to lie Gil and Thena down to rest. Thena sighed into the softness of Ninetales' fur, as she often did when they were camping in Victory Road. The fire type kindly let Gil also rest his head against her plush tails as well, since his arms were wrapped around Thena (and Teddi).

Gallade mustered enough effort to spread Thena's blanket out over the ranger as well. It would demand a thank you from him later, it determined before lying down again. "Lade."

"Tales," Ninetales yawned in agreement, also settling down to rest again.

Froslass floated over with the extra blanket Gil had brought in his pack, spreading it out over them before closing the freezer and going to settle itself in the cool of the bathtub.

The three - fully grown - pokemon could at least agree that maybe, just this once, they really did owe their trainer's mate.

[imtrashraccoon]

I don't know why, but inspiration always seems to strike me at such inconvenient times... Like when I have a headache/migraine...

So enjoy this little Part 2 of sorts to a post I made like two months ago!

Headache Help

Underfell: feat. Crimson (Sans), Scar (Papyrus, I previously called him Scarlet), & Violet (Reader)

The sound of the front door closing startled you awake but the bony hand on your back helped ground you in the moment again.

"Ugh, Did You Two Seriously Laze Around The Whole Time? I Was Gone For More Than Five Hours!" Scar huffed as he strode over to your spot on the couch.

You hissed and recoiled further into Crimson's arms as the volume of the taller brother's voice sent a painful throb through your head.

Crimson tisked and rubbed soothing circles into your shoulders with his knuckles. "keep it down, will ya bro? sweetheart had a rough night and has had a headache all day."

"Oh." Scar's expression softened and he crouched down to be a bit more on your level. "You Should Have Told Me During Breakfast. I Would Have Helped If I Could, Violet." He smiled and lightly stroked your forehead with his thumb.

"I thought it would go away," you murmured. "It was worse before Crimson started helping..."

The aforementioned skeleton chuckled and leaned over to press a kiss against your cheek. " 's a great excuse to laze around all day with my favorite human..."

"Well... I Suppose I Can Let It Slide This Time," Scar started to say. "But Only Because I Care For Both Of You."

You couldn't help but giggle, although you immediately regretted it. Scar just looked so funny when he tried to act like he was letting you get away with being lazy. It was too bad that even smiling too much hurt right now.

"if ya want to help, why don't ya make her some more tea?" Crimson suggested.

"Fine, So Long As You Make Room On The Couch For Me."

"sure."

You quietly watched Scar disappear into the kitchen. It looked like you wouldn't be getting up anytime soon now that both brothers knew you weren't feeling well. It was a bit embarrassing to be doted over but you had to admit that the extra attention was nice.

Crimson shifted over towards the armrest and set you in the middle of the couch. You knew he was just keeping his end of the deal, but that didn't stop you from letting out a quiet whimper of protest when his arms left you.

He chuckled as he snaked his arm around your waist and nuzzled against your scalp. " 'm not goin' anywhere, sweetheart..." he purred.

You felt your cheeks heat up, especially when he gave your thigh a slight squeeze. While they slightly pressed into your skin, you knew he was being especially careful with his claws so as to not hurt you. It was kind of sweet that a big, scary guy like him could be so gentle.

The Nightmare of Apathy: feat. Nightmare, Baggs, and Aylin

"you seem out of sorts today. what's bothering you?"

You grumbled and forced yourself to raise your head from where you'd been resting it in your arms on the dining table.

"I'm dealing with a headache," you muttered. It was hard to actually look at the doctor for longer than a few seconds without squinting from the light in the room.

Baggs made a tisk sound and rolled his eyelights. "tell me about it... has killer been pestering you as well?"

You rubbed at your eyes with one hand and waved him off with the other. "No, no more than usual..."

"you sure? cause i'll have a few words with him if you want me to. wait... you meant you have an actual headache, right?"

You nodded wordlessly.

His bonebrows pinched together with concern. "oh darling, i'm sorry to hear that. if you can eat, i can get you something for the pain if you like."

"Please...it feels like my head's gonna explode," you hissed.

"Now wouldn't that be a shame~"

You almost jumped at the sound of Nightmare's velvety voice in your ear. When you glanced over your shoulder at him, he pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead.

"I was starting to wonder where you were. Are you alright, dear?" he asked.

You sighed and shook your head. "Sorry, I stayed up too late and now I'm suffering the consequences..."

Baggs made a sound of clearing his throat. "i'm sure Horror wouldn't mind whipping up something for you. i'll go find him and be back in a bit, okay?"

You nodded and went back to burying your face in your arms.

Nightmare pulled out a chair and sat down next to you. "Would you like me to help you feel better?" he asked in a soft voice.

Before you could properly answer, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders in a warm hug. He even added one of his tendrils to the embrace, letting it coil around your waist. He didn't do this very often, but almost instantaneously, you felt the negativity begin to ebb away.

It was kind of handy actually, dating a god who was so attentive to your emotions and could fix things in a matter of moments. Although, it was a good thing that he also knew how to do it subtly, to avoid the numbness that followed whenever he siphoned off your emotions like this.

[bangtaninborderland]

JHS: Twisted Feelings

Summary: After working at an award show for 2 years everything had become normal, idols were no longer exciting to see, performances became dull and every day blended together, that was until an unexpected man asked for your help.

Genre: idol!jhope x fem!reader, angst, fluff, strangers to lovers, ongoing series

Warning: none for this chapter!

A/N: I i in no way own bts and this is purely a story of fiction! Please as always share your thoughts and leave a like if you enjoy! Thank you for reading my work and I hope you all have a beautiful day! I will take stabled and request/questions for this couple! If you'd like to be tagged as new chapters come out please let me know!

Ch.02 <. Series Masterlist > Ch.04

Stepping back into your parents house allowed you to fall back into the comfort you had longed for throughout the past few weeks.

“Eomma?” “Appa?” You call out, as you slide your shoes off.

You hear a door open “Through here.” the sweet sound of your parents voices guide you through the house until you find them both preparing food in the kitchen.

You braced yourself for the way your mothers arms squeeze around you. “Why has it been so long?” She asks, her voice melancholy.

“Work.” You respond dejectedly. The sadness of the reality seeping further into your mind.

“I have something for you!” You watch in bewilderment as your Eomma rushes off, her short frame gone from the room faster than you had entered.

A sound alarms to of your dads location’s, he furrows his brows, clearly lost deep in his own thoughts as he peels his way through the mountain of carrots he had assembled. You decide to join him, slipping behind him to grab another vegetable peeler from the utensil drawer.

“You don’t have to help.” He grunts, a weak laugh forcibly passed to lighten the air.

You sigh, taking a carrot. You wasn’t overly shocked at the way he had responded to you coming home, it had been a while but in all honesty it wasn’t your fault. Work was demanding wether you liked it or not.

Your mouth owns and closes as you ponder what to say, unsure if anything would be enough to get him back to his usual self. “I should have co-“

“I’m not mad at you.” He replies immediately, interjecting whatever apology you was going to give.

“I missed you. Your Eomma misses you, we know you’re out there living your life but you don’t call as much anymore. You don’t visit as much anymore, we just worry.” He drops the shaved vegetable into the bowl of water. His head shaking.

“Oh Appa I missed you too, work really did get hectic. It’s actually why I come home, I need advice.” You nudge his shoulder, earning yourself both a sharp gaze and a heavy laugh.

“I’ll make some coffee go sit down, I didn’t want you to come home to peel vegetables.” He instructs you, removing the peeler from your hand.

You smile at him, following his clear directions. In times like these it really hit you just how lucky you was, although they pushed you hard they only ever wanted what’s best for you. Regardless wether they think it’s good themselves. They trusted you to make your own choices and that’s more than you could have asked for.

You jump as your mother placed a box on the table next to you, too far in thought to have heard her coming. “What’s got you jumping like a fish out of water?” She chimes, teeth poking out of a teasing grin.

“You sneaking up on me.” You giggle as she pinches your cheek.

“I’ll be louder next time then” She huffs rolling her eyes. “Now this came a few days ago. Your old school said they had found boxes of your books and asked if we wanted them.”

Your dad looks at you almost apologetically. “I told her that you’d probably be embarrassed.”

“Oh shush you go and finish making us a coffee.” Your mothers glare left no room for questioning. You laugh at the way your dad obeys her, tuning around almost instantaneously. “You’d think she was my Eomma.” He rolls his eyes to you.

“Open it.” She nudges the box closer to you.

There had to have been at least 10 notebooks, you could recognise the coverings, each one different for a reason. The grey leather book sparked your memories, this was one you had thought you’d lost and eventually accepted it was gone. Your innermost thoughts scrawled across the pages from cover to cover, reminding you of who you were, who you had hoped to be.

“Wow” you sigh in bewilderment. “I never thought I’d see any of this again.”

“Just as luck had it they said they had cleared out the old building and found these in an old locker, you really should be more careful.” Your mother worries aimlessly but even so you nodded at her, accepting of any advice she provided.

As he sets down the three steaming cups, your dad reminds you of your earlier confession. “So what’s going on.”

You didn’t know the best way to talk to them about it, was you honest and tell them that one of the most influential individuals in South Korea - in the world - was asking you to work for him or should you play it down, allow them to at least think rationally. “We will be dead by the time you tell us.” Your mother jokes, giving you no time to come up with a side story leaving you with only the truth.

“My contract ends soon, we had a rarity and it led to me meeting with some idols that wanted to make sure I had translated their speech in the way they wanted. It was a pleasant meeting and eventually he came back and asked that I teach him English and possibly translate for their group.” You divulge the details, blanking any names.

“And this individual is?”

And there it was.

“Jung Hoseok, JHope of BTS?” You whispered the words, afraid they would seem like a lie.

“Oh my.” Your fathers eyebrows raised, almost high enough you was sure he wouldn’t be able to relax his face again. “That’s.. quite amazing…”

“I could always renew my contract at the company but if I accepted the job I would have more time to write. I just don’t know if I’m qualified enough to actually teach anyone English or to translate, this could mean I’d have to travel, work different hours, move further away. It wouldn’t be right to be leaving when I barely have enough time to see you both as it is.” The truth of the situation is harsh, their frowns unable to hide their disappointment.

You watch tentatively at them, their eyes talking to one another having a conversation only they couldn’t understand. “You have to take it.”

“But what about you? I can’t just move, I’ll have even less time with you.” You protest, maybe more than you should have.

“Are you scared of accepting this job?”

You stare blankly at him, his eyes scouring your face for an answer. “I don’t want to fail at something so big” you admit earnestly. Your own fears getting the best of you.

“Wether you take this job or not you’ll always be in a position where things may not go the way you want them to, that doesn’t mean you’ve failed but that life has had a different path for you than the one you have taken. This is an opportunity you will regret turning down.”

One thing you always loved about your parents was their inane ability to be honest, regardless of the circumstances. They never sugarcoated anything which as a child could lead to your feelings being hurt but now it was just a trait that you admired.

“I-“ You swallow and clear your throat. “I guess I’ll take it, I can’t run from it and the awards company is starting to feel too repetitive. The pay is better so I could send more money home too and maybe you and appa could take a holiday.” You explain to your mother, who surprisingly was sitting with a smile of pride.

Your father, on the other hand, stands up. Triumphantly throwing his hands in the air and attempting a cheer that was definitely unnecessary but still special. “That’s my girl.”

Your mother shakes her head, clearly embarrassed by your dad. “Aish- no wonder why the girl doesn’t come home you’re embarrassing her.” You can’t help but laugh at the way they bicker, it was as if they were teenagers, flirting in the playground.

You stayed with them for the remainder of the evening, you had helped cook dinner and then sat watching a movie however as usual you had fell into a habit of watching your parents, the way they laugh with one another, the love they share stronger than any you had witnessed but someday hoped to experience.

You had always considered yourself lucky, Unlike your friends parents yours had never intervened within your love life, never pushing you to think about marriage or interrogate you on when they would have grandchildren and even though they had always let you make your own decisions regarding that you had always envied the way they loved each other, hoping one day you too could be in love with someone so deeply.

The rest of the day passed by much faster than you would have liked and before you knew it you was back home, sleep overcoming you.

If it wasn’t for the blinding sunlight you swear you could have slept for the entire day, however you had a job offer to accept so with a groan you dragged yourself out of the warmth of your sheets grabbing your phone and the contract you had been given.

Your call was answered much faster than you would have expected.

“Hello?” His voice didn’t sound the same.

For a moment you contemplated hanging up, changing your mind, but your parents words had been written into your mind.

“Hello, is this Kim Jaesang? I’m calling about the job. We had a meeting yesterday.” You explain, your voice quavering.

“This isn’t Jaesang-ssi but you can definitely talk to me about the job.” Your jaw nearly fell to the floor as you recognised the man on the other end of the line.

Your voice comes out louder than you intend, purely because of the surpise. “HOSOEK-SSI?!”

He chuckled lightly. “The one and only, so you calling does that mean you’re taking the job?”

“I guess that’s the plan.” You sigh, skimming the contract once again. “I thought this was your managers number?”

“Mine was listed too, you must have called the wrong one.” His voice was melodic, you could see why they were so successful. “I could have a car pick you up, Jaesang-nim would just do it anyway.”

“Oh-“ was this really the best choice?

“Is something wrong?” His pitch rises as he questions you.

You brush his concern off. Settling with a simple response. “Well I wasn’t really planning on coming to any meetings I just wanted to talk about some things.”

“I promise we will roll out the red carpet. It would be good for you to meet everyone.” He was right, if you was going to accept you should probably meet the people you’d be working for.

“If I accept I do not want any red carpet at all.” You protest immediately, your voice leaving no room for negotiation. “What time will the car be here?”

“Okay okay.” He agrees through a series of laughs. “If you send me your address it will be around 30 minuets, is that enough time for you to be ready?”

“Sure. It’s not like I’m an idol.” You murmur, hoping he would get the joke, you quickly send him your address. Double checking just to make sure it was correct. “I sent it.”

“I got it And by the way we don’t all take hours to get ready some of us are naturally beautiful.” You rolled your eyes, thankful there was a phone between you.

“So much confidence.”

“See you soon.” The call ends abruptly but you don’t waste time in questioning it.

You was normally fast at getting dressed, there was never really enough time in the day to roll yourself up the way others did, besides you could work just as well without makeup as you could with it. You scour your wardrobe for something appropriate, you could wear a dress outfit but you was only going there to have a discussion. If you was going to take a job it would be because you were yourself, not some half assed version.

You grabbed a pair of cargo pants and the Nike Dunks you had regrettably splurged on after your last pay-check. You paired them with a green shirt that stood out more than it probably should. Your had had always fell into place, allowing you to save enough time to finish your coffee and apply some moisturiser and suncream.

You preferred looking natural but you wasn’t a heathen. Skin protection was important.

You grab your tote bag and carefully place the contract inside. Making sure nothing could damage it. Being yourself was one thing but turning up unprepared and an unorganised mess was another.

Your phone rings and you curse yourself as you hit your leg on the table in your attempt to answer it.

“Hello?” You sounded out of breath, rushing from one room to another was not the best of ideas.

“Outside.” The call was short. Ending the same way it had earlier.

You groan out loud, allowing a last look in the mirror before leaving your apartment. You knew later tonight you’d regret not leaving it cleaner but that was future yous issue. Present you had a job to manage.

It wasn’t hard to spot the car intended for you, especially when the window rolled down allowing you to see just who would be the one to drive you.

“Is this even allowed?” You ask, securing your seat belt.

Hoseok watches you, even if you pay it no attention it was always easy to know when someone was staring.

“Do I look bad or something?” You questing, looking up at him, brushing your hair back to allow you to see him clearer.

He shakes his head, turning his attention back to the car. “Of course not. All ready?”

“Sure.” You murmur, accepting your fate.

You watched the way he reversed out of the car park, he was a skilled driver. “I was on the way to work, don’t think I was creeping around or something.” He looks at you, only for a second, but long enough for you to feel the same comfort you had when Jaesang had left you both alone in your last meeting.

“It’s okay, I’m used to people just waiting outside of my apartment to drive me to work.” You quirk back.

His face looks horrified, before he realises you wasn’t serious. “Don’t do that!”

You can’t help but giggle at the way he was so scared. “Oh this is going to be fun.”

“I’ll fire you if you do that again.” He dramatically waves his hand at you.

“Wow I didn’t know you was my boss, I guess I’ll just get out and walk home now because there’s no way I won’t do that again.” You pretend to go to take your seatbelt off, earning a gasp from Hoseok.

He narrows his eyes at you. “You wouldn’t, this is a moving vehicle.”

“Oh I bet this job I would.” You copy his expression.

You manage to stare at each other for a second before both of your expressions soften, his eyes holding a sparkle you hadn’t seen before.

After a few moments the laughter calms down. “No but seriously you won’t get into trouble for picking me up right? I could have just taken a taxi.”

“It’s okay, me and the members take each other all the time.”

“I’m not a member.” You explain, confused.

“Well when you take the job you will be.” He was right, you would be staff but even so that’s still most likely not allowed. “I wanted you to have this job.” He pauses to take a breath. “I asked them to offer it to you, I think I could learn a lot from you and I’ve always wanted to be able to communicate with ARMY more.”

“You really care about them don’t you?” You ask, your fingers fidgeting with the rings you had decided to throw on last minute.

There’s no hesitation in his voice. “ARMY made us who we are, I owe them everything.”

“I promise I’ll try my best okay? I don’t know what kind of a teacher I’ll be but I’ll definitely try to be one that can help you.” You was earnest.

“I’m sure you’ll do great. You studied English didn’t you?” He asks, his fingers dancing across the wheel.

You nod. “Yeah, my parents thought it would be a great addition to my extensive skill set.”

“They were right.” He smiles at you, baring his white teeth.

“What about your other members?” You couldn’t lie, it had been on your mind. They were a big factor in this.

He cocks his head sideways, watching the lights change. “I talked to them about you, they read the information I did and agreed that you seem nice enough to translate for us. They wanted to meet you.”

“Wow, I wonder how many women would literally slaughter me to have this chance.” You voice your thoughts, one that he too knew to be true.

“Unfortunately any slaughtering will have to wait for your next “to work trip” because we are here.” You watch as he pulls into a parking lot, into a particular space. One reserved for JHope of BTS.

You could see similar ones for the other members, Jungkooks had a bike that attracted your attention, you had always wanted to ride one but never had the courage. Although you wasn’t too discreet as he noticed the way you had looked at it. “Scary isn’t it?”

You agree with him. “Still cool though.”

“Yeah, he is going to love you.” He laughs holding the door open to you.

As you step in it’s much bigger than you would have though, it’s true what people say about the outside looking smaller than the inside. “This is huge, how don’t you get lost?” You whisper, the security guard and receptionist both silent, making your voice seem ten times louder than it was.

He presses a finger to his lips, as if he is sharing his darkest secret with you. “Don’t tell anyone but I still do. One time I got scared so I went on live and took army to the bathroom with me.”

“You didn’t!” You couldn’t hide your shock, no way.

“The members teased me for weeks, in my defence it was late and dark.” He held his hands up.

“Hoseok-ssi! Sorry to keep you waiting, can I just have your access card?” The receptionist gives you a look that doesn’t seem too forgiving but you ignore it.

He hands over the key card, not giving her much of a response. It takes her a few moments to type In whatever details she needs, however you’d notice that every few seconds her gaze would turn soft for Hosoek and then harsh again for you.

“All done.” She smiles, brushing her hair from her shoulder.

Could she be any more obvious.

“Sorry about her.” He whispers, tapping his card against the keypad. “They are all like that.”

He smiled at you, once again signalling for you to walk ahead. “Does it bother you?” You ask him as you wait by the next door, unable to enter it yourself.

“It did for a while, it happened suddenly, one day people were looking at me like I was a nobody and now people left and right will do anything to try and get my attention. It’s as if they don’t see me, just what I have done.” He hands you one of the visitor badges sitting around the foyer.

You slip it around your neck, making sure it’s secured as to not fall. “I’m sorry you have to experience that. I guess I never thought of it all in that way.”

It was weird seeing things from his perspective, you had never much taken an interest in the way an idol would live, only dealing with them within the boundaries of your work. Or previous work.

“Don’t be sorry, I get to help people. That enough for me. Let’s go meet everyone?” He points towards the group of people waiting on the other side of the door.

Six men, all of which taller than you. You recognise Namjoon and he does you, sending you a quick wave and a dimpled smile.

“I guess.” You smile, once again watching as he opens the door.

The faces turn to you, their own conversations die down as their attention shifts. “This is the woman I was telling you about.”

You introduce yourself, bowing to them as they do you, you try to smile not wanting to be too reserved.

They all followed suit, using their own names instead of stage names. “I’m Jimin,”

One of the shorter of the men steps forward, offering you his hand which you shake lightly, “That is Taehyung, Jungkook, Yoongi Hyung, and that is SeokJin Hyung.” He points each member out, all to whom offer their introductions in their own way.

You watch as Jungkook steps forward, “it’s nice to meet you.” The shy smile of the maknae you had seen previously on screen no longer there. His tattoos were uncovered, the white shirt sleeve providing them with no protection.

“It’s nice to meet you too. I see your bike outside!” You blurt out as you remember the black Harley.

His face brightens up even more so as you mention it. “You ride?!” He asks excitedly, practically jumping with joy.

“I wish I could I’ve always been too afraid but I still think they are so cool!” You nod enthusiastically.

“If you ever want to ride I’d be happy to teach you!” He practically shouts the invite into your ear but you accept it, thankful that you had received such a welcome reception.

“I’d love that. Just let me build my courage first.” You laugh, flashing him a small thumbs up. You turn to face the older man who had began silently watching the conversation between yourself and the maknae.

“I’m Yoongi.” He is much more quiet, introverted than the others.

You wonder how they have been together so long, each of them seeming to different to get along in the way they would need too. You could see Hoseok, Jungkook and Jimin talking in the corner, the way Taehyung was dancing let you know they were discussing work, Namjoon had gone to find their main manager Sejin, whilst Yoongi and Jin had stayed by to accompany you.

“So you’re going to be a translator for us?” Jin asks, breaking off the chocolate breadsticks he had pulled from inside his pocket.

You rub your palms together, a little overwhelmed. “Well that’s the plan, along with teaching Hoseok-Ssi English.”

“I can understand it but not talk it well.” Yoongi steps closer to you, a furrow in his brows. “My accent makes it hard”

“Try.” You suggest.

He shuffles from one foot to another nervously. Jin pauses his snacking, clearly interested.

“I like basketball, I am a rapper,” his voice is no more than a mumble, his English sounding much softer than that of his Korean.

You clap cheerfully, as if he had just won an award. “You sounded great. Just a little practice and you’ll be able to translate yourself.”

“I better not then, it would be a shame if I took your job.” He shakes his head, his cheeks a lighter shade of pink.

“Yah! Have some decorum!” Jin fusses, huffing as he turns away.

You can’t help but laugh alongside yoongi who too had began smiling from the older man’s joke. “Is he always like this?”

“He is but he is my only Hyung so I tolerate him.” He purses his lips together, nodding in content.

You don’t have a chance to have a one to one talk with anyone else as Namjoon returns, following by Sejin. You bowed to him politely, greeting Namjoon briefly before he and the other members left for rehearsal.

“So you’re here to accept the job?” Sejin points to the contract you had pulled from your bag.

“Yes I am.”

“Let’s go to my office and have a talk.”

You silently agreed. Following him as he weaved through the building, going down numerous corridors, his key bleeping through every one. You was almost sure you would never figure out how to get out of the building. Maybe you should just ask if you could live here instead.

You laugh quietly at your own inner thoughts as he leads you into a large room, a desk separating your seat and his. It was much like one you would see in a principal’s office. A plush red rug underneath the cream couch in the corner, filing cabinets across the right wall. Shelves holding pictures, awards and other memorabilia on the shelf behind him.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” He leads forward, selecting a black pen and clicking it twice before placing it gently on the desk next to him.

“Let’s.” You nod, flipping over the first page of the contract.

[shycoconutt]

I Found My Light (Kakashi x Reader)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

A/n: Sound the alarms! It’s my first ever writing post! I’ve had this written for a while tbh, and I feel like I’m ready to start getting into this.

Summary: A late-night walk turns into a rekindled friendship.

Word Count: 2300

Warnings: fem!reader, SFW (but might not be later lol)

You opened your eyes for what seemed like the thousandth time tonight. Staring at the white ceiling, you sighed. Sleep seemed to evade you recently, a side effect of the recent dreariness of your life. You found yourself living the same days over and over again. Because of this, the line between day and night started to fade.

The moon was full tonight, you noticed as it shined brightly through your open window. It was the perfect temperature out, warm but chilly enough to feel comfortable wrapped in your blankets. You love listening to the occasional sounds that occurred outside, the noise of leaves rustling in the wind being your favorite.

Your gaze left the moon and landed back on your ceiling. Why is something as simple as sleeping so hard? Gods, all you wanted was an escape. With a huff, you pushed the covers off of you and sat up from your lying position. Trying to force yourself to sleep would do more harm than good right now.

You make your way to your dresser and pull out your favorite pair of black joggers. You love them because they are tight on your ankles, loose on your legs, and have a cinched band at the waist. They are perfect for any lazy day. You slip them on over your underwear, you never go to bed with pants on, and exchange your sleep shirt for a cropped black hoodie made from the same soft, elastic material as your pants.

You turn to face your large standing mirror in the corner of the room to assess your appearance. The all-black look was your favorite, especially since it will help you blend into the night. Your hair was a mess, so you decided to put it up in a loose bun on the top of your head and pull out some strands to frame your face. It felt good to not look so polished and put together. Your jonin uniform was not the most comfortable piece of clothing, especially with the way it hit your figure.

You walked out of your bedroom and across the kitchen to the front door of your apartment. One foot after the other, you slide into your sandals and grab the key to your apartment hanging on the hook next to you. With that, you leave your apartment and head out into the night.

You walked the streets of Konoha at a gingerly pace. It was probably around 3 a.m. at this point, and there wasn’t a single soul on the street with you. You make your way past the line of shops on the main street, including your favorite bakery where you'd treat yourself to a lemon square after coming back from a long mission. You thought about that lemon square a lot when you were out risking your life, embarrassingly enough.

A couple of turns later and you found yourself heading towards your favorite place in all of Konoha, a little area of woods towards the perimeter that contained this amazing koi pond. Although it was nighttime and the fish wouldn’t be as active, you still want to check to see if you can watch any. To your surprise, your favorite koi, who you nicknamed “Nishi'', was out and swimming around by himself. You sit criss-cross in the grass and watch as he glides through the calm water, almost putting you in trance. Nishi didn’t look or act like the others; He was black with white, almost silver-looking spots and he was less frantic in nature. You sway from side to side as you watch him, thinking to yourself about how you would like to be more like Nishi.

“You look cute watching the koi.” You heard a soft, yet unwavering voice declare behind you.

“Holy sh-” You almost jump out of your pants at the unexpected presence. Surprised, you quickly turn your head around to see who’s voice that could possibly be. To your disbelief, there lies a figure perched up by a tree a couple yards away from you. Their feet were crossed, legs extended, one hand in the pocket of their pants, the other holding up what looks like a copy of Icha-Icha, head turned towards you, and wild hair moving with each passing breeze. How did I not notice him?

“Oh I’m sorry (y/n), I didn’t mean to startle you. I figured you knew I was here because you walked right past me.” He brought his hand up to scratch the back of his head and let out a small chuckle. “Guess I should have made my presence known right away.”

Still in disbelief, you get up and slowly make your way towards the figure, stepping into the shadow of the tree to see him more clearly. As you approached you immediately recognized the silver-haired jonin.

“Kakashi?” You say confused. “What are you doing out here? It’s late.”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He states, closing his book and setting it down next to him on the grass. He looked different. He looked… quite hot actually. The jonin uniform you usually saw him in was traded for a pair of comfortable-looking grey sweatpants and a tight, black tank top that connected to his mask. He wasn’t wearing his headband either, just keeping his left sharingan eye shut in a permanent wink. As you observed him, you couldn’t help but notice that he was doing the same to you.

“I suppose you're right.” You smirk and let out a small chuckle. “I couldn’t sleep so I figured that if I was up I should take a walk around the village to clear my head. This is my favorite spot, so I guess I just naturally ended up here.” You exclaimed, still standing in front of him.

“It looks like you and I are having the same issue,” he states plainly, “I came out here a little while ago after tossing in my bed for an hour. I hate trying to force myself to sleep; It’s a battle I never seem to win.” His eyes averted your gaze and moved to his now empty hands in his lap. You couldn’t help but notice a hint of pain in his voice and it tugged at your heartstrings.

You know about the things Kakashi has been through, as it was pretty common knowledge to all jonin in your mutual age group. You were pretty close with his friends, Gai, Kurenai, and Asuma, but Kakashi always seemed to keep everyone at an arm’s length. He also was an Anbu for ten years, which didn’t help the disconnect either. Fortunately, he was relieved from his Anbu position a couple weeks ago, and gradually you have been seeing him a bit more here and there. Though, this is the first time you are able to have a conversation with him in what seems like forever.

“Well,” you sighed, “I guess we have lost the battle together. We must be pretty shitty jonin.” You stated flatly.

Kakashi squinted his eyes and you both laughed. You couldn’t help but take a mental picture of his face at this moment. You really enjoy seeing him happy, as it makes you happy too.

You can’t kid yourself, having a chance to talk with Kakashi alone feels like such a treat. Little genin (y/n) would be ecstatic right now. Of course you had a crush on him back then, who didn’t?

“You’ve always had a natural talent for connecting with people,” Kakashi mused, “I haven’t talked to you since we were teenagers, and here I am laughing with you like we’re long-time friends.”

You could feel your eyebrows furrow at that statement. Yeah sure, you weren’t at his apartment every week for Sunday brunch, but you did have a history.

“Kakashi,” you started, “You are my long-time friend. Just because we drifted apart doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. To be honest, I was relieved when I found out you were no longer going to be a member of the Anbu. It wasn’t good for you.” You stepped closer and sat down next to him, leaning back on the tree stump. The grass felt cool under you, sending a small shiver up your body.

“I suppose you’re right,” Kakashi stated, quoting your words from earlier. “It amazes me that none of you gave up on me. I feel like I am undeserving of everyone’s effort.” You were baffled by his honesty; Kakashi wasn’t known to be much of an open book. It upsets you so much that he feels this way as you couldn’t imagine not caring about him or any of your other comrades in the village. The faces of your closest friends flashed through your mind and you grimaced at the thought of losing them.

Not knowing if you should, you felt compelled to reach over and hold Kakashi’s hand in yours. It's cold compared to the warmth spreading from your fingertips. Hmm, I wonder how long he has been out here. Giving his hand a small squeeze, you look at him in his onyx eye. “Trust me, Kakashi. You are deserving. You are deserving of a great life and people who care about you. I know the world may seem dark, but I promise that a light is always glowing. No matter how small or dim, it’s there.”

You stare at each other in silence for a moment before he changes the position of his hand and intertwines his fingers in yours. The change was small, but it ignites a feeling in your stomach you couldn’t describe. Slowly, you felt your cheeks flush and you turned your face to look towards the sky in hopes he wouldn’t notice. You knew this action was him telling you that he accepts your words, and thanks you for them.

You spent the next hour sitting under the tree together, you looking up at the stars and him looking at you. Your intertwined hands fell between your bodies, resting on the cool grass. You felt him start to graze the back of your hand with his thumb, sending a tingling sensation up your arm. It felt so good to be touched by him, even in such an innocent manner.

A strong breeze ran through the air and hit you suddenly. You began to shiver at the quick change in temperature, realizing that you should have dressed warmer if you were going to be out this long. Yet, you couldn’t have anticipated the situation you are currently in.

“Are you cold?” Kakashi questioned with a hint of concern.

“Yeah a little bit,” you answered honestly, “but I don’t want to go back home. I’m not really tired yet.” Truthfully, you didn’t want this little moment of shared bliss to end. You started to feel like you found your escape, and you refused to be torn away from it so soon.

“Neither do I,” he confessed, “Come here.” He released his hand from yours and slid his position higher up on the side of the tree. He then spread his legs and patted the ground in between, inviting you to sit.

You felt your face get hot again, as the position he was offering you was a very intimate gesture. There was absolutely no way you could refuse his offer. One, because you were freezing and, two, young (y/n) would never forgive you.

You got up and sat down carefully between his thighs, leaning until your back met his chest. He then wrapped both of his arms around you, one around your shoulders and the other around your waist with his hand resting on your stomach. The outsides of your legs met the insides of his and you felt an immediate warmth there. Lastly, your head tilted back and rested upon his left shoulder, with his face nuzzled against your temple. You both fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, no part of you feeling any discomfort against his strong body. Engulfed in his smell and warmth, for the first time in a while you felt completely relaxed.

“Thank you, Kakashi.” You looked up at him with a warm smile.

“Anytime.” He breathed, voice muffled by your hair. You wondered if he truly meant that. I mean, after all, this is the first time you have interacted in a while. Yet, the connection you felt towards him was unquestionable.

Does he feel the way I feel?

“Hey,” you began, “are you tired at all?”

He flexed his arms and held you closer to his chest. “Not really,” he answered, “I’m enjoying this moment too much to be tired.” You smiled, and there was a pause.

“Isn’t this odd?” you questioned again.

“What? You and I snuggled under a tree in a random corner of the village alone at 4 a.m. after we haven’t interacted with each other in years?” he questioned sarcastically, “Not at all.”

“Kakashi!,” you laughed, gently nudging your elbow into his ribs as he laughed along with you.

“Yeah it’s a little odd,” he answered honestly, “but I’m not going to question it. I found my light, and now I’m enjoying it.” He nuzzled his face into your hair and breathed deeply.

Completely and utterly relaxed, you let yourself succumb to the heaviness of your eyelids. Truthfully, this has felt like the longest day in the world and you are happy to end it this way. The sound of Kakashi’s breathing and the rise and fall of his chest acted as your personal sleep machine. It’s priceless.

Before you completely drift off, you swear you could feel the soft, pillowiness of Kakashi’s lips graze the skin of your temple, a soft hum escaping from them.

“Goodnight, (y/n)”

~~~

Queue Hilary Duff’s “What Dreams Are Made Of”. This kind of feels like the beginning of something. Should I continue? Idk if my writing is even good. If you read this, PLEASE let me know if you have any feedback. Again, this is my first story and I would greatly appreciate any feedback, advice, suggestions, etc.! I can’t believe I’m uploading, ah! - Klara

[doubledgesword-2]

So someone stole my work, thought it was a good idea to impersonate me and claimed it was their own. So I’m posting it here so people know I’m the original author. Art is not mine. Part 1 Soulmate au! Please do not te upload somewhere else!!

WARNING NON-CON AND EXPLICIT SMUT

It was weird but not unheard of to have three soulmates. Lots of people reassured you it just meant more love for you. You, on the other hand, didn't felt it. Reading the names on both your wrists and the one on the top right corner of your back, just gave you chills. Not the good kind.

After doing some research on the names and better yet the last names of the three, you concluded that nothing good was going to come from this. You weren't a hunter, neither were you powerful. One could almost say you were average or normal when it came to brute strength.

So you did what any sane person would do. You disappeared. With some expert help and a lot of money involved, you erased yourself from the records, not leaving so much as a hair behind. It wasn't ideal, but you didn't want to spend the rest of your life running from a new enemy every week. Besides, if the three hadn't bothered to look for you, you figured you'd do them a favor, as angsty as it sounds.

Rural life wasn't bad. Leaving the big crowded cities and trading them for the quiet of the forest; it did you some good. You had a little cottage in the woods. Very far from anything and anyone. In the beginning, it was scary. What if something were to happened to you? Who would you run to? But as time went by, your experiences gave you the wisdom you needed.

So here you were gathering some water, inside a wooden bucket, from the nearby river. You pressed the bucket to your hip, leaning over to support the weight as your other hand had a bunch of pretty flowers. A nice touch for the kitchen today.

The forest was quiet today, peaceful with some little bird songs and the stream's running water. You walked amongst the trees happily, breathing in the cold air. Although the sun was beaming right on you, it didn't make you feel hot. The cold weather of the approaching winter contrasted the heat nicely inside your sweater.

Still, you kept walking blissfully, unaware of the stares focused on you. You did felt the paranoia hit you in the back, but this forest was vast, and in the time you'd lived here, no one has come across your little cottage.

Said cottage was in view as you walked. The sun setting meant you were on time to snug inside the house and turn on the chimney. Sure the smoke would be an indication that someone was there. But who would be looking for you? You had no family; cutting ties with your friends was easy since the relationships were shallow, and quitting the job felt like relief. You walked by your little garden, which was your pride and hobby, plus the only thing giving the house feel personality. The cottage wasn't like any standard wooden house. You asked it to be made and even pitched in with the workers to put some sweat into it. Afterward, all plans were equally erased like you. The house worked on solar panels, giving you the luxury of some electricity, which came in handy for the winter. A small chicken coop on the side gave you eggs and helped with the crops. It had the piping and whatnot, but overall everything was very eco friendly as you had insisted. You liked the place, and it seemed like a beautiful house to live the rest of your days without a worry. Sure it did get lonely during those sleepless nights. The ones were you thought too much about why your soulmates never cared to find you and reject you straight out. You didn't felt like dying by their hand. You weren't a fool; you knew their reputation, but something inside you gave you some light to hope. The light that you ended up squashing just because. The four of you were better off without each other. You really didn't want to be involved in their jobs and amusements.

You went inside, placing the bucket outside the front of the house and closing the heavy wooden door behind you locking it in the process. Inside the kitchen, you replaced the dying flowers with the new batch and quickly watched your hands to cook some dinner. You lighted the chimney in the living room, making the house feel warm and snuggly while putting some music on. You had taken off your shoes at the door and were parading around the house in fluffy socks, which made you slide into the kitchen as you danced like no one was watching.

As you stirred the pot and dropped more spices and ingredients into it, you heard a light tapping against the window at the kitchen side. Being in the forest had made you immune to the peculiar noises and the groans of the house when it was cold outside. You were pretty much anti-jump scare, but you were still new, so it was a work in progress.

You cleaned your hands on your apron and made your way to the window. You wanted isolation, but you weren’t completely crazy to be all alone in the woods. That’s why you made a friend.

“Well, hello there, big guy! How was your day today?” You opened the window, letting in the medium-sized fluffy black cat and closing it after he was inside.

You received a mewl as the cat rubbed himself against your legs and jumped on the turned dining chair. The kitchen and the dining room were fused, so you were sitting and reading while keeping an eye on dinner.

“Wow, taking my place? You’re rich, you know that?” The cat almost seems to shrug, giving you another mewl and licking his paws.

You smiled, shaking your head and focusing on dinner.

After everything was done, you washed the dishes and cleaned the surfaces. Just because you had a cat didn’t mean you wanted to give the mice a reason to come in. You rubbed the back of your neck, squeezing the spot as you walked towards your bathroom to wash up. The ball of black fluff eagerly following behind you to enter your room.

“You just want to get on my bed, don’t you? Here I was thinking you wanted to accompany me,” the cat meowed, jumping on the bed and kneading the folded blankets.

You chuckled, lighting the small fireplace inside the room. You turned to your vanity, picking your night clothes and turning to bathe. The warm water did help you relax more, maybe you shouldn’t carry the bucket with one arm. But the flowers you picked were worth it.

You came into the room towel in your hair and dressed in a robe. Only to stop abruptly, eyes widening at the fact that a man was sitting on your bed petting your cat like it was the most normal thing. He didn’t turn to look at you, and you quietly walked back, towel still in hand, but not far. You bumped into a hard chest, and if you hadn’t turned around to look, you would’ve thought it was the bedroom door. You gasped really scared at the fact that there were two men inside your bedroom, and you hadn’t even heard them come in. The man in front of you grinned joyfully and took a step towards you. Your eyes immediately went to the window in your room, and before you knew it, your feet had carried you there.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you” the cliche rolled off one of their tongues, making you annoyed and irked despite the adrenaline rush.

You turned glaring, and that’s when spotted the third man on the other of the room leaning against your vanity with a book in hand. This was bad. Really bad. It had been a short couple of years, but you could see the resemblance. They had found you.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, you’re quite hard to find” the man with the slicked-back hair closed the book looking at you with cold black eyes and the ghost of a smile. One, you didn’t return.

As he spoke the tall and pale, magenta hair one took two steps toward you placing his hand on his waist. You took a step back, eyeing him warily. You didn’t smile or showed any joy at the fact that your soulmates had actually found you. You didn’t felt the overflowing love people used to say you would for having more than one soul mark. Instead, all you felt was cold and afraid for your life, fear running icily in your veins. Despite having a nen ability, you knew little of it ,and you could feel the aura they were letting off. It didn’t reassure you. On the contrary, it made you feel like cornered prey.

“What do you want?” Your voice could be considered an authoritative whisper as it flowed shakily pass your lips.

There was a moment of silence, and then the one dressed as a clown laughed merrily at your question. You could see amusement slip through the cold expression from the man that had spoken before.

“Danchou, I thought she would be smart,” the clown asked, looking to the man to you.

Your eyes hardened, annoyed, but still, you said nothing. The only person who hasn’t spoken was the long black hair one petting your cat—that fluffy traitor.

“Well, maybe she doesn’t recognize us. That gives us the chance to introduce ourselves. My name’s Chrollo Lucilfer.”

“Hiso-“

“I know who you are, who all of you are,” you interrupted, looking at all three of them, making the clown arch a brow in interest. “That doesn’t answer what you’re doing here or what do you want” you were angry and scared, nervously looking into their eyes.

“My dear darling, well, that’s easily answered. We’re here to take you home, make you happy, and all the in-betweens,” the clown expressed, giving you a playful feeling. He was waiting for you to make a move so he could jump at you. They all were.

“Thank you, but I am home. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I would like to sleep, so if you could just leave?” You have them a sardonic smile hoping against hope they would accept the rejection and actually leave. It was a fool's wish.

“But soulmates are supposed to be together,” the man with long black hair finally spoke. His voice monotone and calm. It made your skin crawl. Oh, hell, no.

He finally turned to look at you, his big black eyes almost swirling and enchanting, a manipulator at its finest. You looked to the side, avoiding him.

“Then I could only assume that you three have found your soulmates. You’re together.”

“But it gets oh so lonely without you, little fruit” Hisoka was done playing from afar and slowly walked closer to you.

This made your bloodlust flare in a warning. They all got goosebumps just looking at it, feeling the sheer intention. It wasn’t as developed as theirs, but the fact that you weren’t afraid to push them away made their paints tight.

Hisoka let out a low groan, eyes half-lidded and looking at you with a perverted smile. You looked at your cat; you could get him later, and they were smart enough to survive. Then the towel in your hand and as Hisoka came to stand closer to you, you gripped the towel hard and threw it at him, covering his face for a brief moment that allowed you to pass him. They knew you weren’t a fighter, heck you had run from them in fear. It made you a smart coward in their eyes, but they weren’t expecting you to be so quick-witted and resourceful. They should have with you living in the middle of the forest and all. You slipped into the short hallway, feeling the breeze of something spearing near your face but missing you. It made you run even faster into the living room. What you weren’t expecting was the sudden failure of your body.

The minute you slipped into the hallway, Illumi had launched several needles your way. Even though some missed their mark, one hitting you square in the back was enough. You crumbled to the floor, clutching the small sofa and leaning on it as if you were crying. You might as well be—the intense pain coming from the center of your spine emitting pulse-like electricity. The stinging sensation made a couple of fears fall down. It left you breathless.

The trio calmly made their way into the living room, looking at your slumped form.

“Soulmates are meant to be together, with time you’ll understand. Staying with us is best for you.” Illumi was crouching near your form, grabbing your arms and pulling you to lean on him instead as he petted your hair for comfort. You tried to move away or do something to get out of his cold embrace, but each attempt was met with more pain. You whimpered.

“That was a rush. It makes me wonder...~” Hisoka groaned obscenely behind Illumi, talking to Chrollo.

“She does have spirit. That could prove to be a problem.”

“Oh~ but I don’t want to break her yet. Nice toys are so hard to come by these days.”

Your sniffles cut through their banter. Your form was trembling on Illumi’s lap as he kept petting your hair.

“Don’t move” Illumi’s hand slipped to your back, and you felt the sting of the needle being plucked. Your body relaxed, letting out a sigh and breathing greedily, but still shaking. The phantom pain made you involuntarily cling to Illumi’s arms for comfort, which made the assassin’s heart flutter. It was proof that you needed them, they just had to show you.

“We should show her how much she needs us” Illumi slightly turned to look at the other two, still holding you to his chest. His face expressionless as he spoke, but the excitement in his eyes can’t be denied.

Hisoka’s eyes gleamed, his tongue coming out to slowly lick his lips as he approached Illumi and crouched down close to the two of you.

“Hmmm, splendid idea, we have to show our little flower what she’s been missing all this time” Hisoka took a strand of your hair, twirling it and pulling slightly.

“Then it’s decided,” Chrollo’s voice felt like the judge giving the verdict to seal your fate away.

Hisoka didn’t wait for Illumi, he simply took you from his arms, bridal style and clutched you tightly to his chest. As if you were some long lost heirloom, he just found and couldn’t part with. You struggled a bit, jerking in his grasp, but the recent pain had left your muscles tender and sore.

Fighting was encouraged by them but had been diminished with their antics.

The way to your room felt like a death row walk, and you couldn’t help but keep wiggling pathetically in Hisoka’s strong arms. He looked down at you, his yellow half-lidded eyes were already a telltale of what’s to come. He bit his lips when you gave him your best wide doe eyes, and you swore he sped walk, feeling the vibration of a suppressed moan deep in his chest.

He brought you down on the bed, tenderly like a lover would on their first time. Your tired body succumbed to the comfort of the mattress and the warmth of the sheets. Hisoka lowered himself, pressing his body to yours and letting you feel his arousal hot in his trousers. Alarmed, you tried once more to move, but he brought his face close to your ear.

“Don’t worry, little one, we’ll be gentle….at least this time.” He bit your earlobe, kissing the spot to soothe the sting “Mmmm, but do forgive me if I just can’t help it~” he moaned slowly, grinding his hips into yours dragging the length up and down your thighs.

You whimpered and brought your hands up to his chest, pushing him as best as you could. He grinned and sat up, still hunched over you. Looking deep into your eyes, he took his shirt off, never cutting off the eye contact. Hisoka then took your hands, trying to push off his thighs and placed them on his chiseled chest, dragging them to touch him. He moaned obscenely, and you couldn’t help but blush at his well-built frame. Your hands felt the muscles contract and relax as your fingers, guided by him, gingerly touched every single spot. Hisoka bit his lower lip, looking down at you. You haven’t even noticed he had let go of your hands, and you were freely roaming, touching so softly his chest, his stomach...it made it all the more difficult to not take you right here.

He didn’t want to scare you; after all, this was the beginning of countless nights and days of pleasure to come. Your red nose, puffy eyes, and pouty lips made him hot. As your fingers grazed his nipple ever so softly, he bursted, throwing his head back and to moan loudly. You retracted your hand alarmed, and that’s when you noticed you had been almost lying down on top of Chrollo’s lap. The man’s fingers were tangled in your locks as he massages your head.

“Hisoka, you’re going to scare her away being so loud,” Illumi said from behind Hisoka. His face on leaning over his shoulder and his hands grabbing his hips. Hisoka’s hand came up to caress Illumi’s cheek, and he once more looked down at you through glazed and sensual eyes.

“Mmm, I just can’t help it. She’s so innocent...those eyes...It turns me on~” his hips jerked up quickly, grinding against you.

“Make her feel good first,” Illumi whispered in Hisoka’s ear, making eye contact with you, as he kissed the clown’s neck.

Hisoka crawled back, his hands softly running down your thighs. Chrollo unmade the knot holding your robe closed, and uncovered your body to them. You gasped, remembering you had just showered and had nothing but your dignity. The sight of your skin glowing under the dim moonlight coming from the window mixed with the reds and oranges from the crackling fire made their mouths water. Your squirming was pitiful at best, hands trying to grab the robe and close it, but Chrollo snatched your wrists pinning them down beside your head. He lowered his face closer to you and dive into your lips. His locks coming to the sides of his face and his soft lips molding against yours. For a moment, you forgot who these men were. Their sweet caresses here and there as Hisoka brought his face to nuzzle your stomach leaving kisses and marks wherever his lips touch. Chrollo took your alarmed gasp as an opportunity letting his tongue inside to explore. He groaned when you trying to escape him, lightly bumped into his arousal. He let your lips go, both of you breathing heavily.

He wanted more. "You are the greatest jewel I have ever stolen" he muttered his minty breath fanning over your abused lips.

Hisoka lowered all the way in between your legs, but you self-consciously closed them from him. He pouted like a kid who had seen his new toy but couldn't have it. Illumi pried them open, putting everything on display. Hisoka chuckled darkly, his hands rubbed your thighs and knees, and then they rested on the bed. Seeing your chance, you attempted to close them once more, but couldn’t. Looking up, you saw Hisoka smirking at you with a dark knowing look. He did it and now you could see the pink substance sticking your legs open to the bed.

“Bungee gum, love, has the capabilities of both gum and rubber.” His face came closer to your core, you could feel his excited breath, and it gave you goosebumps. He moaned bitting and kissing the inside of your thighs “I can’t wait to see your beautiful nen. The thought makes my pants so tight~” he licked his lips and dived into your entrance.

You moaned a bit overwhelmed at the sensation of his tongue, sucking and exploring inside without a care. The slurping sounds made you blush even harder. Still, you couldn’t deny the arousal building up, or the knot in your stomach tightening even more. At the same time, Chrollo and Illumi took it upon themselves to suck on your chest. Their teeth grazed your nipples, with the danger of biting down, and your back arched perfectly, allowing them more access to your perked nipples.

The pleasure was overriding all the red flags and alarms going off in your head, not too long ago. It was making you pliant, your heated body melting into their touches. You bucked your hips into Hisoka, and his hands came to rest on your hips, making you whine. He smiled, his tongue licking a slow and torturous strip up your slit ending on your clit. He latched on to your bud, eliciting a whine, brows furrowing at the electric feeling surging through your body.

Then something snapped inside you; you shut your eyes, letting out a loud moan, your body shaking as pleasure rolled all over your body. Faintly you heard Hisoka moaned equally loud, slurping all your liquids like he was starved. While still in your high, you didn’t notice Hisoka take off the rest of his clothes, his arousal standing proud. He crawled back on you, taking your knees and lodging himself between them.

Chrollo caressed your cheek, petting your hair. He lowered to give your forehead a tender kiss. “It’ll only hurt for a moment, (Y/N)”

Your eyes widened when you felt Hisoka’s length prodding at your entrance.

“W-wait,” you slurred, but he entered you gently, moaning at the warmth and slick coating him, beckoning him further into your depths.

You cried out as he went further inside until he was buried to the hilt. He keened in satisfaction, waiting a bit, and soaking up your walls’ sensation spasming around him.

“You’re so tight…so warm, mmm, it feels sooo good~” his hips started to slowly move.

Illumi, went behind Hisoka, kissing his neck and leaving marks all over. Meanwhile, Chrollo couldn’t have enough of your chest. Sucking and biting all he could, hands grabbing both your mounds and squeezing, decorating your skin in purples and reds. You mewled at all the sensations, eyes gleaming with unshed tears.

“Make her cum” Illumi whispered to Hisoka loud enough for you to hear. Hisoka grabbed your hips, speeding up, leaving you breathless, hips bucking, and meeting his thrusts.

“Mmmm, (Y/N)…I love that look in your eyes~” he moans thrusting even faster, your slick making it easier for him to slip in and out. Illumi went down where the two of you met and started to suck on your clit. You went crazy, the pleasure too much to contain it. “Arghh, she’s getting tighter…I can’t…” Hisoka moaned, burying himself deeper. One of his hands gripped your hip hard, surely to bruise, while the other held back Illumi’s hair as he sucked on you.

Suddenly the forming knot in your stomach tightened until hot white pleasure exploded through you. You squealed, liquids gushing around Hisoka, making his hips stutter, feeling your walls spams around him. He came, bursting inside you as your walls milked him for what his worth.

“Take it…Take it all~” Hisoka gasped, moaning breathlessly, his hips dragging out the orgasm.

Hisoka pulled out, making you mewl. The oversensitivity and tenderness were a bit too much. Through half-lidded eyes, you looked as Illumi took Hisoka’s spot, cleaning you up with his tongue. Chrollo stood and shed his coat on top of the vanity, his clothes joining the others on the floor. Illumi’s tongue swirled Hisoka’s cum and yours, lappin everything greedily, he then crawled on you kissing you roughly, making you taste the result of your joining. Your lips separated, leaving a strand of saliva connecting your mouths. With aggressive desperation he hugged you, pulling you flushed against his naked chest feeling how heated you'vemade him. Then you felt yourself being flipped over, Illumi under you.

Alarmed, you moved a bit, but Chrollo grabbed your hips, stilling you. He crawled over you, pulling your robe off of you and kissing your shoulder gently, his hands went softly down your spine giving you shivers. Illumi kissed and bit your neck, making you whimper as you felt his length prodding your entrance.

“It’ll be alright, just enjoy it,” He whispered, his monotone voice breathless as he guided himself into your slit. You mewled at the feeling, and he quietly gasped at your warmth.

Your eyes looked into his deathly ones, watching them swirl with different emotions. Yet, the main one being lust and adoration. His black hair fanning behind him gave him a mystical and beautiful look, he looked majestic, like some forest elf of sorts. You bit your lip holding back the moan. That’s when you felt a bite on your left butt cheek.

“Sorry, you look good enough to eat~” Hisoka drawled, and then you felt a finger prod your forbidden hole. You squealed, trying to writhe away, but it only made Illumi hiss in pleasure and grab your hips hard.

“Don’t tease me, (Y/N),” he groaned into your ear, biting down on your shoulder to muffle his moan, as your walls flustered around him.

“N-no, p-please. Not there,” you cried out, the feeling of his finger weird and alien to you.

“It’ll be alright, (Y/N)-Chan, we only want to make you feel good~.”

Hisoka was in front of you, lowering to your eye level, his yellow eyes lidded as he licked his lips and went in for a fevered kiss.

Illumi looking at the two of you kiss so wantonly, started moving his hips gently, biting his own lips at the display. Chrollo added another finger preparing you for him, the scissoring giving you chills. Yet, as Hisoka kissed you tasting himself in your tongue and lips, he distracted you from the prodding. He separated, panting heavily watching as some drool came down the corner of your lip.

He enjoyed your fucked out state.

Without warning, Chrollo entered the tip. It made your eyes widen to feel the burning sensation contrasting your skin with the coldness of fear. You gave a muffled screech, your walls closing on Illumi and making him unable to hold back the groan.

Chrollo slowly pushed inside until he was buried deep. He inhaled shakily, feeling you tighten around his intruding length. The feeling made him groan lowly.

Tears came rolling down your cheeks, you had never felt so full. In one night, the entirety of your virginity was lost.

Hisoka watched as the two men he liked the most, made sweet slow love to you, pulling adorable noises from your swollen and abused lips. He couldn’t help bit his own lip, looking at how they ruined you for the better. He loved the scene.

Chrollo dragged you away from Illumi. His face resting in the crook of your neck as Illumi’s hand grabbed your jiggling mounds, squeezing them and marveling at how they fit perfectly in his hands. You were made for them and only for them. Your body hasn’t known pleasure before, and you had clearly neglected yourself, you needed them as much as they craved you.

Hisoka came close to where you and Illumi met, his tongue coming out to lick his lips as his fingers came to rub on your hooded pearl, holding back the whine of pleasure. Everything was becoming too much. You convulsed a bit, the pleasure overwhelming you.

“She’s getting tighter,” Chrollo grunted, speeding his thrusts.

“Mmm, are you close, (Y/N)-Chan, hmm?” Hisoka got close to your face, his lips close to yours, teasing, “Are you going to cum on Illumi, like a good girl~? Milk them both for all they’re worth~?”

He kissed you, rubbing harder and faster, and you moaned into the kiss. He slipped his tongue in and sucked on yours, still tasting his arousal’s tanginess on you. That was the moment you became undone, your liquids squirting around Illumi. Both men thrust faster, almost competing with each other until Illumi came inside you, ropes of cum filling you up until he deemed it was enough.

Chrollo moaned lowly, biting your neck to muffle it as his cum shot into you, filling you on the other side.

Hisoka bit your lip and separated for air. Your eyes were almost closing, body shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure still rolling up and down your body. Chrollo pulled out, his cum dripping down the back of your thighs, making him lick his lips in satisfaction. Illumi pulled you abruptly towards him, making you land on his chest. Hisoka was surprised and annoyed that he couldn’t watch your tongue lolled out, and your lidded eyes look at him.

Illumi grab your face with both hands and brought you in for a passion-filled kiss. It was aggressive and possessive the way his lips pressed into yours until you both couldn’t breathe. He let you go, pulling out and laying you down on your side. Your body was tired, filled to the brim, marked, and pounded to their heart’s delight. Chrollo pulled a blanket over you as your eyes finally closed in exhaustion.

“Mmm, that was delightful. Our little fruit might not be as innocent as we thought~” Hisoka sat by you, caressing your cheek as you sleep.

“We should move her in the morning. She shouldn’t stay alone in the woods.” Illumi sat at the other side of the bed, calling out to the black fluff, making his way into the room.

“We shouldn’t forsake this place. It could be useful when we need a place to get away for some time” Chrollo put on his pants and dressed in his coat, leaving the shirt of out the equation as he leaned against the vanity.

“Mmm, vacations here with our darling pet should be divine~” Hisoka kissed you, making you snuggle cutely into your blanket. He warmly smiled at you. “Danchou, let’s keep her here. She doesn’t exist in the world, and our line of work is not the safest. She’s still hasn’t shown us her nen, but I’m afraid she’s not as developed as we are. She’s not ripe yet.”

“Hisoka is right. Bringing her with us will only endanger her. Illumi, can you persuade her to stay?”

Illumi sighed, going to his clothes and pulling out a single needle. He went to Hisoka’s side, his eyes looking down at you with warmth. He sat by your head, almost on Hisoka’s lap, the clown giving a suggestive buckle against Illumi’s back, making him annoyed.

Illumi caressed your face, pulling your locks away from your forehead.

“She won’t be able to leave the forest, without us or our consent. She’ll stay here as she has but will always expect us. The moment her mind thinks of leaving, she will have the most painful headache. The more she fights it, the worse it’ll get until she stops.”

Illumi then pulled you to face him. Your close eyes made you look so calm and sweet, and your puffy lips called out to him. He then pressed the tip of the nen infused needle to the middle of your forehead and pushed it in. You whimpered in your sleep, brows furrowing in pain and discomfort as the needle lodged inside your cranium. Then as quickly as the sting had come, it went away, leaving you blissfully unaware.

The three men then showered in your bathroom and slept all around you smothering with their heat until morning came. Arms clutching you possessively as if the minute they let go, you would fade away.

You woke up with a start. Heavily panting and looking around to see if you were alone. Maybe everything was a bad wet dream, and they hadn’t found you yet. Your first thought was to leave this place that you had constructed and built with sweat and tears. It pained you, but having them found you, was too much of a risk. So you turned, placing your feet on the floor and wincing at your lower region’s discomfort, in all the lower part of your body. You whimpered but made your way to the mirror on your vanity.

The sight almost made you scream.

Deep red and purple marks were littered all over your neck and chest. You brought your hand to cover your mouth as tears rolled down your cheeks. You looked down to see bite marks and bruises all over your stomach, hips, and thighs. You took your robe from the floor and put it on tightening the knot with shaky hands. You opened your bedroom door and quietly walked to the living room.

The embers of last night’s fire were still slightly lit; the windows were opened, letting in the fall breeze. But the place was empty, no well built handsome devils were in sight.

You sighed in relief. At least you were alone was once more, and they may never come back.

That’s when the front door opened, making you jump startled. You stayed in place watching as Hisoka came in carrying a hay woven basket with eggs, he took off his heels at the door placing them beside your shoes and looked up at your still form.

“Good morning, (Y/N)-Chan~” he brightly smiled at you, eyes closed in joy as he made his way to you. You didn’t move, baffled by what was going on. Hisoka placed a kiss on top of your head and went into the kitchen.

As soon as he left your space, Illumi came through the door, carrying your black cat in one arm and a bucket with water in his hand. He did the same as Hisoka putting his shoes beside his and the bucket near the kitchen. The black fluff jumped down his arms and trotted joyfully towards your legs, Illumi followed suit. He took your hand, kissing your forehead and bringing you into the kitchen. He pushed you gently to sit on the dining chair, and you winced a bit at the discomfort and slight pain.

Everything was tender.

“I’ll run you a warm bath,” his monotone voice and void swirling eyes gave you shivers, but his intentions were sweet. You nodded, still unsure of this picture, and he left you.

“I’ll make us some breakfast; you need to be strong if we want to have more fun~” Hisoka winked suggestively, and you hugged yourself unconsciously. “Now, now don’t be like that, darling.” he came closer with a spatula in hand, his big strong arms coming to cage you between the chair and him.

“I know you enjoyed it~” he gave you a peck on the lips and went back to cooking.

You looked at the door expecting Chrollo to join this weird play/reality show, but he didn’t come in. Curiosity got the better of you.

“Where’s...”

“Danchou? Hmm, he was busy and had to leave, but he left us to take care of you~”

“Is he...coming back?” You asked shyly, hating how you already missed the man or the fact that this domestic scene made you feel peaceful and right.

“Huh?” Hisoka looked at you, your shy demeanor let him know all you were thinking. He beamed with glee, you were already theirs. “He’ll be back tonight, maybe he’ll bring desserts~”

You hummed in response. Your eyes looked at the door, and a scheme came to mind. With Hisoka distracted and Illumi away, you could run. Run fast and not look back.

Your hands gripped the edge of the chair, and you almost took impulse to stand and go. Hisoka side-eyed you, his yellow eyes beaming with joy. You were such a fighter, he just wanted to ravish you now. The thought of you wanting to run made his pants tight.

“Do try it~” he said casually not even looking at you “I want to see how far you’ll get”

At that moment, Illumi came back, and you looked like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. He knew what you wanted to do, your intentions were clear in your eyes. It pained him a bit, but he knew you were acclimating still. He had to be patient.

You stood, and both men got ready. The tension could be cut with a knife. You looked at Illumi and went to him, seeming a bit defeated. He slightly let out a sigh in relief as he grabbed your hand and guided you into the hallway.

“Good girl,” Illumi said, pulling you inside the bathroom and closing the door behind him, snapping the lock to seal your fate.

[spencersawkward]

omg omg i know matthews birthday isnt for a couple weeks but i would die for a bday sex one shot omg

i made you wait so long for this i'm so sorry omg. one-shots usually take me longer bc i want them to be detailed!

summary: reader has plans for Matthew’s 41st birthday, but things take their own turn. 

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, oral (male receiving), degradation, Soft!Dom Matthew with some fluff, too; fingering, creampie, implied age gap. 

pairing: Fem!Reader/Matthew

word count: 4.3k

masterlist

I haul the enormous bag of flour onto the counter, grunting. it's early afternoon, and my day has been spent wrapping all of Matthew's gifts and trying to plan out the perfect birthday celebration. he's turning 41, and all I want is for him to feel as special as he feels to me. the cake is the last piece of the puzzle, and I'm hoping that my less-than-excellent culinary skills improve over the course of the next few hours.

I set out all the ingredients first, swaying to my music while I go through the recipe and decide how much I need. it shouldn't be too complicated, right? just chocolate cake with buttercream frosting. I thought I'd try to recreate the Rumple Buttercup cartoon with it, but now I'm not so sure. that might be flirting with disaster.

instead of deciding right there, I just get started on the batter. I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

the air is thick with sweetness and warmth as the oven slowly pre-heats and I stir together the silky smooth chocolate batter. I pour the mix into a round baking pan, tapping it a bit to make sure it's even, before pushing it into the oven. naturally, I lick the whisk clean.

my phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out to see that Matthew's texted me.

on my way home now!

my heart stutters in my chest as I check the time. he's definitely early; he told me this morning that he wouldn't be at home until at least seven. my eyes flicker to the cake, over the messy kitchen, and back to my screen.

early?

yep. can't wait to see you. followed by a series of heart emojis. I start to panic a little. this throws my whole schedule off; I was going to do my hair, pick up food from his favorite restaurant, set the table, litter the bed with rose petals. I wanted everything to be just right for him; it's the first time he's had a birthday with me.

and now he's going to come home to me with flour-dusted cheeks and a half-baked cake. I quickly clean the kitchen and wipe my face before running off to the bedroom, rifling through my closet for something nice. thank god I already showered this morning because there's no way I'd have time now. I find the dress I'd planned to wear, red and slinky and pretty, before dropping my clothes and changing right away.

truly, I move at the speed of light when I do my hair, scatter the rose petals, and call the restaurant to get our order started. we'll need to run out and get it, but Matthew likes going for walks, so that shouldn't be a problem.

the smell of chocolate wafts through the house while I tie an apron around my waist and get a bowl out of the cabinets. the cake needs to cool for a while, but I might as well get started on the frosting. who knows how long that'll take?

too damn long, apparently.

Matthew opens the front door while I'm halfway through my crumb coat, the soft green shade of the Rumple Buttercup colors coming along nicely. I start to panic a little when I hear his footsteps on the stairs.

"Y/N!" he calls out.

"kitchen!" I respond without moving. he probably shouldn't see the cake, but at this point it's too late. there's fluffy buttercream frosting and food coloring all over my apron. all I can do is wait patiently as he strolls into the room.

"what are you up to?" he sets his hand on my back, smiling.

"making your cake, birthday boy."

"mmm." he wraps a hand around my arm, drags it down while leaning his chin on my shoulder. "looks really nice so far."

"you like the color?" I ask.

"I do." he mumbles, starting to touch my waist. "what material is this?"

"silk."

"you know I love that." he squeezes my waist and I have to resist the blush spreading up my cheeks. he's affectionate right now, and I want to resist, but it's hard.

"what're you doing?" I question playfully in response to the drifting of his fingers down my thighs.

"I'm excited to see you."

"I'm excited to see you, too, but we have a strict schedule tonight."

Matthew groans and drops his head into the space between my neck and shoulder. his hands don't leave my hips.

"why?" he whines.

"because I want you to have the best birthday ever." I smooth off the top of the cake, sighing when he digs his fingernails into me. it feels heavenly, and the featherlight kisses he's leveling on my jaw are making me woozy.

"making me wait?" he brushes over my ass, squeezing the flesh lightly. "that's cruel."

I laugh a little and swipe my finger through the frosting.

"try this and tell me if I'm still cruel."

he grabs my hand in both of his, sliding my index into his mouth and licking it off of me. my jaw drops in surprise before he pulls away and drops it. it's unbelievably sexy.

"that is really good." he smiles, then kisses my cheek in an alarmingly innocent manner. he knows what he's doing. "don't be a tease, darling."

"you--" I stutter, trying to regain my concentration. it's futile at this point; it isn't until he moves away from my body that I'm able to keep working on the cake. he only glances with a knowing smirk, walking around the counter to sit across from me.

"how was your day?"

"my day was jam-packed with planning for a little ingrate's birthday." I joke.

"I'm not an ingrate." he protests. one look at his pout and I feel guilty for teasing. standing on tiptoes, I lean over the counter and plant a kiss on his mouth.

"you're right, I'm sorry," I sigh. "I just had a whole plan and when you came home early, I didn't have time for all of it."

"what can I do?" he offers immediately. I scowl.

"you're not gonna help me prepare your birthday celebration, silly."

"but I wanna make it easier."

"you wanna make it easier?" I ask, the corners of my lips quirking up. he nods enthusiastically and I hold his gaze. "I need to go pick up our dinner, so you can walk with me."

"ooh, yes!" he leaps up in an almost child-like manner, coming around to my side again. I nuzzle into his shoulder as I finish piping the face onto the cake. he snorts when he sees the completed project. "is that Rumple?"

"shut up, it looks so bad." I complain. my body leans into his in defeat. even though I tried, Rumple looks like he's been possessed and exorcised in one sitting: he's got crazy eyes and a lopsided face.

"no, it's beautiful," he pecks the top of my head. "he's supposed to look funny."

all I can do is turn around and hug him, giggling at the absolute monstrosity that I've created. he wraps his arms around me tightly and we start to sway a little.

"I feel like Victor Frankenstein." I laugh. he untangles our bodies to tilt my chin up and look at him.

"you're way cuter." he rubs my nose with his own. I'm smiling so big, it hurts. he makes me so unbelievably happy, I can't imagine not being by his side. Matthew is the best boyfriend in the world, and I really want everything to live up to his expectations.

our fingers thread together briefly before we get ready to go pick up our food.

...

"I am literally going to combust." I giggle, throwing my napkin onto the table. red wax drips down the sides of the candle between us, and Matthew's eyes are starry as he watches me talk.

"good?" he asks.

"amazing. how was yours?"

"could barely get it down." he gestures to the empty plate. I throw my head back and laugh more than I should. Matthew frowns. "what?"

"that's such a dad joke."

"really?" he laughs along with me until we're both just smiling brightly at each other. I don't want to step too far; we've been dating under a year, still. but I see myself with Matthew forever. we've already moved in together; I've never felt so strongly as I feel for him, and I think that he feels it, too. in our bones.

"yes, but I like dad jokes."

"come here." he holds his arms out and I get up from the table, walking over to sit on his lap. he shifts so I can be more comfortable, and I place both hands on my stomach.

"I have such a food baby right now."

"do you?" he sets one hand over the bump. I lean my head into his shoulder, curling up a little. he starts to rub my tummy gently, holding me close while we sit in a relative quiet. "I like it."

"mmm." I hum, wrapping my arms around his neck. although he could easily turn this sexual, he doesn't. we just linger, breathing and letting our food settle. I really am full; the chances of me falling asleep are higher than not.

I ask Matthew to tell me more about his day as I sit there, and the rumble of his voice in his chest is soothing. as the candle wax drips further and further down, I watch it with lethargic eyes. I've had a hard year-- Matthew's made it better. he can read me like a book, and he listens like I've got all the answers in the world. I love him. and when I head to the kitchen to slice the cake, he follows me with his arms around my waist. we move like two people who have been together a long time, like we can anticipate the next person's movement down to the flicker of their eye contact, down to their step.

"I can't believe you have room for dessert." I grab a knife from the drawer, along with some plates. Matthew kisses my head.

"I've got room for multiple desserts."

"was that a sexual allusion or are you actually hungry?" I turn briefly to gauge his behavior. if he hasn't had enough to eat, I'll feel horrible. but he leans down to my ear. it still sends a shiver down my spine.

"definitely sexual," he smirks, then retreats. "let's do this, though, first. I want a piece of Rumple's eyeball."

"just get out the candles so I can do this for you." I push him away. he heads to the cupboard and returns with the pack of candles that I begin to spear into the cake. I only put in ten because there's not room for forty-one, but he doesn't seem to mind as I light them up individually.

"go sit down! you weren't even supposed to come in here." I laugh as I lift the dish into my arms and shoo him into the other room. Matthew gives me a sidelong look, smiling for an unknown reason, before following my orders.

he pretends to look surprised when I bring the thing out to him, mouth making a pleased O shape.

"wow!" he cheers.

"make a wish, then, my love." I tell him. he inhales deeply, then blows out the candles. one or two stragglers remain, their flames flickering before he tries again and snuffs them out. I clap my hands.

"happy birthday, baby!"

he grins at me and starts to pluck the candles out of the cake. "you didn't sing to me." he says.

"trust me, that was a gift in itself." I laugh before picking up the knife. "how big a slice do you want?"

Matthew seems to think for a second on this, squinting as he examines the thing.

"big."

"alright then." I cut an enormous hunk out, making sure to get one of the maddened eyeballs on it before sliding it onto the plate and giving it to him. "enjoy."

"oh, I will." before I can move to sit across from him, he reaches out and pulls me into his lap. I let out a surprised noise, but settle in anyway on his thigh while I cut my own slice of cake. we eat together.

"it's actually pretty good." I'm impressed with myself. sure, it's not a super complicated recipe. but I still did well. Matthew wraps his arm around my waist, one hand holding his plate while the other digs the fork in.

"it's amazing." he nods through a mouthful of food.

"how's the eye?"

"how you'd expect a vitreous humor to taste." he jokes, laughing as I elbow him in the ribs. "ow!" he complains. I swipe some of the frosting off the top of his slice and tap it over his nose. he wrinkles it at the sensation.

"maybe I'll just leave." I move to get up, but he keeps me in place. his little smile, so determined in its happiness, makes my heart soften. for all of his teasing, he's weak for me, and I love it. when I lean down a little to lick the icing off, he blushes.

"when can I have you?" he asks quietly, one hand resting on the top of my bare thigh. it tightens around my skin, growing more aware of my presence in his lap. I bite my lip and mull this over, subtly draw the hem of my dress up a bit just to tease him.

"I'm thinking..." this time, he lets me get up. my fingers slide through his, dragging him with me. "now."

Matthew gets an excited grin on his face before I spin around and lead him to the bedroom. a couple candles are burning, filling the room with a deep, sensual smell that he inhales as he stops in his tracks.

"did you put rose petals on our bed?" he chuckles, staring at me with his eyebrows raised in an adoring expression. I run my palms up his chest, stopping below his shoulders. I poke my tongue between my teeth as I smile.

"yes, I did."

"very romantic."

"is it?" I lift an eyebrow. it takes everything in me not to pounce on him right then.

"consider me seduced."

"if you ever use that word again, I'm calling this off." I laugh. he silences it in a kiss, eagerly gathering my body up in his arms as he tilts his head to deepen it. a slight moan slips through me, pleased with the gentle, innocent pleasure he elicits. he's softer than velvet. when he crushes the silk of my dress in his fist, lifting it over my ass so he can touch me without barriers, he groans.

"did I pay for this?" he rolls the fabric between his fingers.

"mhmm." I hum.

"good." his breath hitches when the zipper comes down easily, the garment falling to the floor and leaving me in brand new black lingerie. his eyes move hungrily over my body, pupils dilating further as he takes in the curves of my figure.

"this is new."

I twist around a bit, showing him the back as well, his grip on my waist loosening only to allow me this movement. "you like it?"

he groans. "I love it."

I want to start undressing him, greedy for the sight of his naked body, but he reaches down and lifts me into his arms, my legs wrapping around him while he carries me to the floral-covered mattress. I sink into a rosy paradise, almost give into the alluring sensations he causes with his fingertips over my skin.

he's between my legs, teeth seeking out collarbone and the swell of my chest. it would be so, so easy to remain here, pinned down and allowing him to let loose on me. every deliberate shadow on my body is like a sunburst. but I can't.

I grab his shoulders and yank him down next to me. he peers at me with a smile, wondering what I've got in store. the answer is too loaded to fit into one sentence, so I watch him move up the bed until he's resting his head on the pillow, my legs moving to straddle him.

"taking control?" he questions. he knows I don't usually like to be on top. instead of replying, I reach behind me and undo the clasps of my bra, sliding it from my arms before tossing it somewhere else. his eyes widen and he goes to grab at my tits, but I'm too quick. I lean down, unbuttoning his shirt and drawing my nails over his chest as I lower myself to his pants.

Matthew is silent, open-mouthed at the red marks I leave behind on his smooth skin. it's intoxicating for me, too, and I work quickly to tug his bottoms down his legs, the boxers with them. when his dick is released, I let him struggle through a moment of no contact.

"let me touch you." he goes to stroke himself. my gaze flickers between the length he's now gripping in his hand and the needy look on his face. I want to fuck him right now. every cell in my body aches for him, for the pleasure that so violently rips through my veins when he's inside.

"not yet." I betray myself, and his hips buck into empty air when he sees my torso so close to his erection. when I drop my head and lick up the underside, he lets go of himself and allows me to tease him. I pause at the tip, then hold the base while I spit on it.

"shit!" he grunts as I start to swirl my tongue around him. his fingers run through my hair. "suck on it, baby."

all I do is moan, the vibration torturing him. I peek up through my lashes and see the veins in his neck throbbing while he resists the urge to fuck my mouth. I soften and lower my head slowly, inch by inch swallowing his cock. he hits the back of my throat. the slight gag that runs through me makes him sigh. it's then that I tap his hand as our signal to push my head down.

Matthew loses it. he starts to shove my mouth onto him, fucking it, one hand reaching behind him to grab the top of the headboard while he groans.

"choke on it... fuck." he moans. there are tears in my eyes from the pressure, but I keep looking at him the whole time. he's gorgeous, mouth dropped open in ecstasy while he goes between rolling his eyes into the back of his head and staring with an intense desire.

every time I gag, he lets out an unholy noise and gets excited all over again, his hips moving to meet my lips until he's on the edge of falling apart. his cock twitches and I moan, but he's not willing to finish.

"get over here so I can fuck you." his voice is borderline raspy as he forces himself to release my head. I sit up and wipe the spit from my mouth, crawling on top of him again to leave some of my favorite marks on his neck. he's mine. every bite stands to prove it, and his quick breaths let me know that he's not going to wait much longer.

his fingertips hook in the waistband of my panties and he pushes them down my thighs, purses his lips while he watches me shimmy out of them. it's wonderful, seeing the disarray in his face whenever he catches sight of my naked form. he never knows where to touch first, moving over my breasts to my waist and hips down to my legs. like he's trying to blend our bodies together by simply drinking me in.

I tense when he reaches out and sinks two fingers into me. I'm so wet, it takes almost no pressure.

"fucking soaked, huh?" he smirks. my hands steady themselves on his shoulders as he starts to pump in and out of me. I groan.

"get inside, please." I murmur nearly incoherently. he starts to go faster, his cock throbbing against his stomach. but he wants me to squirm and beg.

"oh, so you've got demands?" he teases. his fingers curl in my pussy, brushing over my special spot, and I almost gasp at the pleasure. "after making me wait?"

"I just--" I start to defend myself, but it's fruitless. he guides my face down to his, whispering in my ear.

"let me guess: you just wanted me to have a good birthday?"

"yes." a choked, desperate reply.

"let me show you what kind of present I want, then." he removes his fingers and lines himself up at my entrance, pushing me all the way down before sliding the pads of his digits into my mouth. I lick them clean while I moan. his cock is so deep inside me, I can barely breathe.

the combined pressures between my hips and on my tongue, make me give up on drawing this out. it feels so good, I couldn't stop myself if I wanted to. I rise up a bit and sink onto him again, his jaw clenched at the sensation. he lets me do this a couple times and then pauses my actions.

"get on your hands and knees." he orders. I lift myself obediently, whining slightly at the loss of contact, before he sits up and switches positions so that he's kneeling behind. I wait patiently for him to do what he wants with me. he doesn't disappoint.

softly, he pushes my head down so that my cheek rests against the pillow while he slides in from the back. it's a completely different angle and I can barely handle the way he works through the tightness, his moans louder this time.

"thought you could sit on it and I would just let you?" he chuckles darkly, pulling out and moving in. my breath rattles in my chest at the repeated, delicious intrusions. my eyelids flutter shut while he keeps talking to me in that commanding, low tone. "you're my little slut."

the moan that comes from my lips is pathetic, like a mewl. he plows into me and my face presses into the mattress.

"such a perfect little pussy," his hands lure my hips to him while he groans at the new depths he keeps finding. "so responsive for me."

"faster, Matthew." I whine. although he's not going slow, I need more. the slam of his body against mine, from this angle, creates just short of enough friction for my clit. he follows my request, however, and fucks me at an insatiable pace.

"you like that?" he grunts. I literally don't have the mobility to nod, so I shove my ass back instead to take more. he bucks. "you feel so fucking good."

I whimper and he starts to stimulate my clit by reaching around, lowering himself a bit to do so. he keeps his arm pressed to my stomach so he can feel the bulge of his cock sliding in and out of me. "good girl. take it."

my fingertips fist the sheets and I whine as my orgasm approaches. he switches the pattern of pressure, finding what makes me fall apart fastest. I'm on the edge, my mouth dropping open in a silent cry. my hips start to move on their own, working against his cock as I moan his name and tumble into the abyss.

"Matthew, right there-- fuck me, fuck me--" I moan. he rams his hips so hard, the headboard slams the wall and he groans.

"you're gonna make me break you, baby." he warns. I bite my lip so hard that I almost puncture the skin, feeling like a planetary collision is occurring within my lower stomach. I'm coming up on a second climax.

"break me, then." I dare.

Matthew wraps his arm around my chest and brings me up so that I'm leaning against his chest while he whispers in my ear. "defiant little whores don't get my cum."

"but--" I complain, hips wriggling for more while he thrusts into me.

"apologize or I'll stop fucking you right now." he slows just to demonstrate the torture of not being inside me. I grasp at his hips to coax him, but he's determined. I take a shaky breath at the smooth, slow movements.

"I'm sorry." I beg. he reaches down and starts to play with my bundle of nerves again. as much as he wants to make me crash, he loves the way this feels, too.

"mmm," he hums while laying sloppy kisses along my neck. "good thing I wanna fill you up for being so sweet today."

his thrusts are uncontrolled and needy, rapid pushes between my legs that cause me to start shaking all over again. he rubs my clit and moans in my ear, spilling.

"I love you so much." he mumbles. the hand holding me to him squeezes one of my tits while I arch my spine and enjoy the slowing pace of our bodies. I moan his name.

"I love you, too." I'm in awe of how he changes for me, his attitude shifts whenever we're in bed. it's cosmic, how we fit together. and his withdrawal from my body causes both of us to collapse onto the bed with exhaustion.

I can only suck in air for a while. my limbs are like lead, in the best way.

"that was hot." he mutters. I turn to him, admiring his beautiful features, and nod lazily.

"a successful birthday, then?"

"after that cake? yeah." he scoffs jokingly and I giggle before curling into him. he traces his fingertips down my skin. "do you wanna take a shower?"

"I'm so tired." I groan. Matthew glances at me.

"I'm the one who just turned forty-one."

"shut up."

"come on, then. let's get you cleaned up."

he rises from the mattress, bringing me with him. a few stray rose petals flutter onto the ground.

[sweetkingdomstarlight-blog]

Lee bodecker + degradation kink (PRETTY PLEASE)

Pairings - Lee Bodecker x Female Reader

Words - 2114

Warnings - spanking, fingering, degrading language, daddy kink, anal fingering, D/s dynamic, edging, orgasm control, facial, cum play, masturbation

a/n - This is just utter filth, literally pwp. I am submitting it to @buckyownsmylife new first anniversary writing challenge. This fic was partially started in Discord last night and my lovelies asked me to write it so here we are. I know the gif is Bucky but I swear I've used all the Lee gifs so I'm moving on, don't be mad at me. It has been beta’d by my new wifey @bitterqueenofhearts who is amazing but any mistakes you see are my fault. If you are under 18 then you shouldn't even be here dude, please kindly scroll on by. Let me know what you think.

You were at a party drinking with your friends when, as usual, things got a little out of control. The Henderson brothers were causing trouble, getting into fights and smashing anything they could pick up. Looking at your best friend Amy you both gave each other the ‘lets go’ signal, but before you make it out the door you hear the police sirens, groaning at what you know is going to happen next. You both take a seat on the porch swing and watch the people around you scatter like cockroaches.

You were all of legal drinking age and technically hadn’t done anything wrong, although Dean’s parents might disagree when they see the damage left behind. You both sat back and waited. Watching the familiar figure of the Sheriff approach, Amy jumps up. “Daddy, you here to take us home? Our ride appears to have vanished.”

He scowls at the two of you, shaking his head and tutting. He walks inside without saying a word and assess the damage, turning to both of you to ask what happened. You both profess to know nothing, telling him truthfully that you were actually planning on leaving when he arrived. He points to the car across the street and gives you the keys to get in.

You climb in the back seat together and giggle about the boys at the party, none of them really caught your eye. You’d always preferred older men, and it’s just a shame that older men don’t usually look twice at you. Looking past your friend and watching her dad through the car window you squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease the throbbing you feel in your core. It doesn’t help much, but it means you can focus on whatever it is she’s talking about now.

Lee climbs in the front seat and winks at you in the rear view mirror, smirking when you bite your lip to suppress your smile. You try your best to ignore him throughout the journey, but he keeps looking at you in the mirror and distracting you. As you pull up to their house, Amy asks if you’ll stay over for the night but you have work in the morning and need to get home. Lee says he’ll drop you off, so you wave to Amy and move to sit in the passenger seat this time so you can direct him to your place.

Pulling up to your new apartment, you thank him and smile as you get out of the car, fishing your keys out from the bottom of your bag as you climb up the steps to the door. You turn back when you hear the car door close and get a fright when you see Lee, marching towards you with a look on his face you don’t recognise. He cages you in at your front door, looking down at you and enjoying feeling you squirm against him.

“I didn’t know you had a new place, finally moved out and acting like a big girl, huh? I think I should take a look around, make sure it’s safe for you. I’m sure your Pops would be grateful.” You nod your head and turn, opening the door and climbing up the stairs to your little home. There wasn’t much to it, just a big room with a bed, a few chairs, a tiny kitchen and a separate bathroom.

You sit on your bed and watch as he checks all the windows and looks around at your things. “What were you thinking wearing that little dress tonight? Were you hoping you’d bring someone back and have five minutes of mediocre sex? I thought you were smarter than that.” He sits down next to you on the bed and places his hand on your knee, his fingers rubbing a pattern that sets you on fire.

He looks around the room once again and sees something shiny sticking out of the drawer on your bedside table, you follow his line of vision and your eyes widen. The box of condoms sticking out of the drawer is not what you want him to see, and even worse, he tells you to stand and pass the box to him.

“Please, Lee, don’t do this. I’m an adult now and I don’t have to do what you ask. Now you’ve taken a look around please feel free to show yourself out.”

As you turn to walk away he grabs your wrist and pulls you back to him, making you stand between his thighs and running his hands up and down your back. “Such a big girl are you? I wonder how you would feel if I had to teach you a lesson about respecting your elders? Especially the ones who are trying to make sure you’re safe.”

You whine as his hands travel down your body, gripping your ass firmly and kneading it, spreading the cheeks apart and squeezing until you gasp. “What’s wrong, Princess? I thought you were a grown up now, surely you can handle a little massage?”

Gripping his shoulders you miss what he says, trying to breathe deeply so he doesn’t know how effected you are by his hands on you.

“I told you to get over my lap Princess, don’t make me wait any longer.” You shake your head and look down at him, he’s absolutely serious. Patting his thick thighs and raising his eyebrow, challenging you to defy him. You take a deep breath and lay over him, gasping when you feel him move your dress up and rub over your white cotton panties.ou can feel how wet you are and you know there’s a wet patch soaked through. Without warning he slaps the back of your thigh and chuckles when you squirm against him, hissing as he rubs over the now hot skin. “Count for me, Princess.” Slapping the skin just under your ass, you moan out the number two and grip his thigh as you squirm again.

He grips your cheeks once again, pulling them apart and gripping them firmly. “You know what, I think these little panties might be in the way.” He rips them off you before you can stop him, bringing them up to his face and inhaling the scent on them. “Fuck Princess, you smell amazing. These belong to me now.” He says, stuffing them into the side pocket of his trousers and looking back down at you “lets see, what we have here now?”

His thick hands once again kneading and spreading you apart, he hums to himself when he notices how wet you are and drags his fingers through your slick. Listening as you whine for him, he licks his lips and rubs harder, showing your clit no mercy, the sounds you make have him rock hard.

Stopping for a moment, he waits, listening for your reaction and smirking when you beg for him. “What’s that? You want my fingers back? You know how to ask for them, you little slut.” He waits for your answer, but when you don’t respond he spanks you and admires the jiggle when his hand hits your ass. “You know if you don’t tell Daddy what you want he’s gonna leave you here all alone.”

You push your ass up and wiggle it, silently begging for more. Normally he wouldn’t be so cruel, but he knows you eye fuck him whenever you see him in the uniform. He sees when you clench your thighs together, he even knows that you stare at his hands when you think he’s not watching, biting your lip and probably imaging all the ways he could use them on you.

“Be a good little whore for me and you can have what you want.” He slides his hands over your legs, scratching and nipping at you, enjoying the whimpering he’s causing. “Ok, I guess you don’t want it then. I thought you were going to be good for Daddy, but I suppose I was wrong.”

He hears something so faint he almost misses it. Grabbing your hair in his fist, he pulls you up. “Fuck, Daddy. Please. I need your hands on me.” Grinning at you and letting go of your hair, he pushes two thick fingers deep inside you, curling them and rubbing them over a spot you didn’t even know existed.

“So fucking tight for me. You’re the perfect little whore, aren’t you? I think you need more than my fingers, though. Don’t you?” You moan as he keeps moving his fingers in and out of you, feeling your juices dripping and leaving a wet patch on his thighs.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you almost miss the moment he spits on your tight puckered hole, circling his thumb around it. You make a deep groan from the base of your throat and he slowly pushes the tip of his thumb in, swearing under his breath at how tight you are. He can feel you clenching around him as he fills you up and can’t wait for you anymore. “On your hands and knees in the middle of the bed for me, princess.”

Admiring how easily he gets you to do what he says, he strips down, tilting his head to the side as you look at him over your shoulder. “Touch yourself for me.” He sees the conflict in your eyes but you don’t make him wait too long before rubbing your clit while he watches. “Such a good fucking slut for me, tell me who’s pussy this is.” He asks, slapping his cock against you and slowly pushing in, stopping once just the tip is in and not moving. “I won’t ask you again, who does this pussy belong to?”

You try to push back, you need to cum so badly it hurts, but he just grips your hips painfully tight, stopping you before you can get more of him. “I asked you a question, you better answer me, princess.” You whine and moan out as he holds you still. You want to answer him, you really do, but you also don’t want him to win. Deciding to tease him right back you kneel there completely still and just clench around his tip, smirking when you hear his breathing pick up and the swearing he does under his breath.

It doesn’t last long. He spanks you so hard you almost fall on your face, but his grip on you remains strong. He thrusts forward and you both groan as he finally fills you up, setting a fast pace. It doesn’t take long before you’re both panting and moaning. He slips his thumb back inside your ass pumping it in and out, keeping rhythm with his hips. The feeling is like nothing you’ve experienced before.

“Daddy, I’m so close, please don’t stop, fuck!” You scream out, gripping the sheets below you. He can feel you squeezing him tightly, he knows you’re about to cum, so he stops. You scream out for him to keep going, but he leans forward and chuckles in your ear. Shouldn’t be such a fucking brat then, should you, Princess?”  You whimper and immediately start to rub your clit, hoping you can make yourself cum without him.

So close, so fucking close. Before you cum, he flips you over and pins both of your hands above your head in one of his, using his other to slap his cock on your swollen clit, each tap making you whimper. “Who does this pussy belong to?” Finally answering him, you scream out his name and he just shakes his head looking down at you. “Open wide and stick out your tongue.”

You do as you’re told, looking up at him and pleading for him to fuck you again, but he just pouts at you. “Aww, does my little cock slut want to be filled up?” You nod and he grins at you. “As you wish.” Palming his cock and splashing his cum on your face and in your mouth, groaning out your name as he does. You lay there in shock, coated in his cum. “Swallow it.” He demands groaning, as you do as you’re told, sucking it off his fingers as he smears it across your face.

He sits back on the bed, legs open and stares at you. “You may finish yourself off now.” You eagerly spread your legs, but before you can touch yourself, he clears his throat.. Looking up at his smug face, he smiles at you. “But only after you’ve cleaned me up, come and use that mouth of yours, Princess.” It was going to be a long night.

[moonlit-jeno]

fifth time’s the charm? (m.)

pairing: johnny suh x female reader

genre/warnings: explicit sexual content | mentions of recreational drinking/ drugs (weed) | fluff | jaehyun being, well, jaehyun

words: 5.2k

summary: sometimes the universe aligns for you. and sometimes, it really doesn’t

1. There’s a delicious warmth between your thighs, growing with every slow grind of the guy’s hips. You don’t know his name and there’s no chance to ask, not with the way your lips are practically glued together, his tongue doing wonderful things as he licks at the seam of your mouth. He nips at your bottom lip at the same time his hand slides up your thigh, stooping just short of the hem of your dress, and you jolt, whining loudly.

He’s got a cocky smirk on his face when he pulls back to catch his breath, lips swollen and eyes dark. You stubbornly try to pull him closer, wrapping your legs around his waist and grinding your hips up more desperately. The two of you are as close together as the kitchen counter allows you to get. The muscles in his back flex under your fingertips and you’re so turned on that you think you could cry.

You’re just about to ask his name but then his lips are on your neck, leaving a trail of marks down the delicate skin. His hand squeezes at the meat of your thigh and you moan, tossing your head back and smacking it against the cabinet. A soft curse leaves you but the pain doesn’t really register, not when you’re being touched like that. His fingertips are so, so close to your core but he doesn’t dare move there yet. That spot is reserved by his dick, the impressive hardness dragging deliciously against your core.

There’s a commotion next to you and you turn your head to look, immediately regretting it. A guy from one of your classes- Jaehyun, you think- is emptying his stomach contents all over the floor. Your nose wrinkles and you rapidly tap your hookup’s shoulder, trying to get him to pull away. He does, a little confused, but then he follows your gaze just in time to watch Jaehyun throw up again, this time on the opposite side of the same counter you’re sitting on. Your arousal fizzles out and you groan, trying to ignore the wave of nausea that replaces the lust.

“Oh, for fucks sake Jae.” Your hookup groans, running his hand through his messy hair. He turns to you. “I gotta go take care of him, sorry.”

“Friend?” You ask as he lifts you off the counter.

“Best friend. And roommate. Which means I’m probably gonna hear him all night.” He sighs, glancing over to where Jaehyun’s got his face shoved under the faucet. “Thanks for this, though. It was fun.”

You smile, pulling him in for one last kiss. “Sorry we didn’t get to finish.”

He winks as he walks away, throwing a “next time, then.” over his shoulder. You watch as he rubs Jaehyun’s back soothingly, whispering something in his ear before picking him up. “Don’t fucking throw up on me.” Your hookup tells him, adding a “please,” as an afterthought. It makes you laugh.

It isn’t until you get home that you realize you never got his name.

2. You’re on the couch at yet another party when you see him again.

“I’m Johnny.” He offers you a joint and you take it gratefully, placing it between your lips. He even lights it for you. What a gentleman.

“Y/N,” You finally respond after taking a deep hit, watching all of the smoke leave your mouth and float overhead. “Nice to see you again.”

His eyes drift to your mouth when you take another hit and you let your head fall back to expose the column of your neck. “It is.” Johnny murmurs quietly, tongue wetting his lips.

It doesn’t take long before you end up on his lap, his hands grabbing desperately at your hips as you grind down, kissing him with the same ferocity as last time. The only difference now is that you’re high, you’re so, so high, and Johnny feels so good against you that you’re drowning in him.

Johnny pulls away to take another hit, tugging your mouth back to his so that he can pass the smoke between your lips. You accept it easily, loving how the burn in your chest matches the burn in your gut.

“Mhmm, if you feel this good now, I can’t imagine what it’s gonna feel like when I finally get to feel your pussy.” Johnny groans, bucking his hips up against your core. “Bet you’re so wet, so fucking tight.”

“Just for you.” You whisper in his ear, giggling at the deep groan he lets out in response. His hand makes its way under your skirt and you gasp, fully prepared to let him finger you on the couch in front of everyone.

His fingertips graze your core over the thin fabric of your panties and you whimper, swiveling your hips. Johnny’s a tease, just lightly petting your folds, not quite giving you what you want. You open your mouth to beg when a hand clamps down on your shoulder.

You jump when you realize it’s not Johnny’s hand, turning to find a very nervous looking Taeyong.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt. Uh, the house is currently on fire so we’re evacuating everyone.” He explains, trying valiantly to keep his eyes from wandering to where Johnny still has his hand under your skirt.

“Oh, fuck. Is everyone okay?” You ask, standing on shaky legs.

Taeyong nods. “Yeah, I think we’ve got it under control. But we don’t want to take any chances.”

Johnny nods. “Yeah, for sure man.”

Taeyong walks away after bidding the two of you a goodnight. You and Johnny look at each other, sighing deeply before he breaks into laughter.

“Damn, we are so unlucky.”

You groan, laughing despite yourself. “It’s unbelievable.”

3. The last time you’d seen Johnny wasn’t perfect, but at least you got his number.

Johnny texts you like you’ve known each other for years. He doesn’t bother with ice breakers- thank god, because you can’t stand small talk. It’s all memes and stories about how chaotic his day was and honestly? It’s refreshing.

Especially because he always takes the time to ask about your day, letting you rant and giving you support. He doesn’t leave you on read for hours at a time, either- you’re pretty sure the longest you’ve had to wait for a response was about an hour, and that was because he’d been in a class.

Surprisingly, there hasn’t been one suggestive message from either of you. You’d certainly been expecting it, considering the nature of how you met. But Johnny keeps everything family friendly, with the exception of a few dirty jokes and curses.

The most suggestive text he’d sent was a “hey, wanna come over and watch a movie?” But even then, you can’t guarantee that it’s going to lead to sex. You can certainly hope, but it isn’t determined.

Of course, you still shower and throw on your sexiest lingerie. Hell, you even lotion your legs.

Which you’re very thankful for as of right now, because Johnny’s got one hand up your dress and the other cupping your breast. He’s half on top of you, his lips pillowy and insistent against yours. You moan and pull him closer, tugging at his soft hair.

The movie is still playing from his laptop and you lean up to close it, reaching to set it on the floor. You’d hate for it to fall off the bed and break later on.

“I can’t believe it’s taken us this long to fuck.” Johnny huffs a laugh, pulling away to catch his breath. You giggle, tugging at his shirt to get it off.

“Hey, we haven’t fucked yet.” You remind him, sliding your hands up his toned stomach, feeling the firm muscles. He flexes and you slap his chest lightly.

Johnny leans back down to connect your lips, finally moving your panties to the side to run his finger along your drenched entrance. “Well lucky for you, I have a solution for that.”

The door creaks open before the first finger can even slide in. “Johnny! Taeyong baked us a shit ton of cookies, you want some?” You and Johnny jump apart at the speed of light, your hand flying to smooth down your dress while Johnny pats down his hair. The impact of your back hitting the headboard has you grimacing and you distract yourself by focusing all of your energy on glaring at the intruder.

Fucking Jeong Jaehyun. This is the second time he’s interrupted you, although if you take into account that it was probably him that caused the fire, it’s the third. You’re fully prepared to kill him, though you suppose you’ll spare him if he gets the fuck out of Johnny’s room.

He doesn’t.

The idiot’s looking down at his phone, so he doesn’t even notice what position you and Johnny had been in, and he somehow doesn’t even notice how both of you are panting and sitting in unnaturally stiff positions. Finally, he looks up from the device. You raise your eyebrows, waiting for him to notice that Johnny’s shirt is off and that he has multiple hickies scattered across his skin, but he doesn’t! Jaehyun smiles and lifts the tin of cookies.

“I’m okay.” Johnny says shortly. He’s holding a pillow over his lap and he looks absolutely murderous. 

“Suit yourself.” Jaehyun shrugs, wandering further into the room. “Were you watching a movie?” Doesn’t this kid know how hookups work? He had to have seen the two of you together at one of the last parties, has to know that there’s a reason you both have swollen lips and messy hair. 

“Yeah. Inception.” Johnny responds, clearly hoping that the complicated nature of the film will have Jaehyun sprinting away. 

“Oh, I love that movie!” Jaehyun drops the cookies onto your lap and clambers in between you and Johnny, excitedly opening the laptop. “Oh cool, you’re only fifteen minutes in!” He presses play.

Johnny groans. You shove a cookie into your mouth.

4. To say that you’re sexually frustrated is an understatement. 

You like Johnny, you really do. Spending time with him is fun. Texting him is fun. He’s a good person overall, and you want to get to know him better. Another thing you desperately want? His cock.

Every time you try to hook up, you get rudely interrupted. Maybe it’s a sign that you should actually start a committed relationship. Maybe it’s a sign that you and Johnny aren’t meant to be. Or maybe, just maybe, the universe hates you. 

It’s late, way too late to text him to come over, but you’re horny and annoyed and your imagination just isn’t doing it for you. Your attempts at fingering yourself are fruitless, and even though you’re so turned on that you think you could explode, you just can’t get wet. It must be a curse. Probably Jaehyun’s fault, you grumble, though there’s absolutely no way it could be his fault considering he isn’t here.

Your fantasies keep failing you and despite you having clear ideas of what you want Johnny to do to you, it’s not enough. After a full minute of consideration, you grab your phone.

[Me] 11:43pm

You up?

[Johnny] 11:45pm

Of course I am

It’s not even midnight yet

What’s up?

[Me] 11:46pm

Bored

Thinking about you

[Johnny] 11:46pm

Oh so I’m boring now

The little quip has you huffing a laugh, smiling down at your phone. You bite your lip and roll onto your stomach, propped up on your elbows.

[Me] 11:46pm

Hmm

I mean I guess I could change my mind if you prove me wrong

[Johnny] 11:48pm

You only think I’m boring bc I haven’t had the chance to show you how much fun I am

I might even be too much fun for you

[Me] 11:48pm

Prove it

It’s not surprising that your phone starts ringing, the stupid selfie Johnny had taken last time you hung out popping up on your screen. Your stomach jolts in anticipation, teeth finding your lower lip as you answer it.

“Hello?” You roll back over, shoving your pillow under your head. Your free hand rests on your stomach, drawing shapes into your skin.

“Hey baby,” Johnny’s voice is a low purr over the phone and just the sound of it has your stomach flipping, the pet name drawing a soft whimper from you. “It’s awful late for you to be thinking of me. Mind sharing what’s on your mind?” You consider it, sinking further into your mattress and drawing your knees up a little. “Mhmm, I dunno. I’d rather you share what’s on your mind.” That draws a soft laugh from him. “Oh, nothing much. Was just debating if you’d rather come three times on my cock or three times on my tongue.” The bluntness of his words has you sucking in air through your teeth, though your chest is so tight that you doubt you got any oxygen. “Oh.” Your voice is small and you may have been the one to initiate it, but you have no idea how to continue it. “Oh, fuck.” “Yeah?” Johnny laughs lowly on the other line. “Well, which one is it?” “Both.” You try to sound confident but you’re a mess, hand trembling with how hard you grip the phone.

“Greedy girl.” Johnny clicks his tongue, and you can almost see him shaking his head. “How are you going to earn it?” Your mind is blank, nothing but warm arousal shooting through you. “I-” You try to start, finding yourself unable to finish the sentence. The words are too filthy to be spoken out loud.

“Would you suck my cock baby? You’d probably like that, hmm? I know I would.” Johnny’s voice sounds breathless, and you can vaguely hear the slick sounds of him jerking off. “Would look so pretty with your mouth full. Do you want that?” “Yes.” You manage to gasp out, letting your hand find its way between your thighs. Two fingers dip into your core before moving up to trace quick circles into your clit.“Wanna be stuffed full.” A deep groan leaves him. “Fuck, I’d stuff you so full, baby. Do you think you can take my cock?”

“Mhmm, yeah, I can take it.” You moan, finally starting to pleasure yourself the way you want to. Fingers fucking into your core quickly, palm hitting against your clit. “Oh god Johnny, I’m so fucking wet.” “You sound so good princess. Makes me want to-” His voice cuts off and you hum, urging him to continue. He doesn’t.

“Johnny?” You ask, frowning at his silence. A sigh leaves you when he still doesn’t respond and you draw your hand out of your panties to pick up your phone. Your confusion turns to annoyance when you're met with a black screen and a spinning circle. “God fucking damnit!” You scramble for your phone charger but it’s too late, the dead battery symbol popping up when you try to turn it back on. 

You flop onto your bed and scream.

5. It’s been a long time since you’ve had sex, and it’s all you can think about.

Now look, you’re not unreasonably horny. You think about sex the normal amount, and it never actually interferes with your life, but there’s something about Johnny that’s just fucking you up. He’s nice and considerate and makes you laugh so hard that tears stream down your face, and you catch yourself smiling at him fondly even when he’s not doing anything besides frowning at his laptop. Everytime your phone lights up with a notification, you dive for it to check if Johnny had texted you. You’re not in love, but he’s got you wrapped so tightly around his finger that it almost hurts.

It doesn’t help that he’s fucking hot. He’s tall and strong and sexy, and carries himself with so much confidence that you find yourself swooning. You’ve gotten just the slightest taste of what he’s like in bed, but you want the full experience. The whole legs going numb, eyes rolling back, head empty experience. Preferable without any cockblocking roommates.

So no, you don’t think that you think about sex too much. Even if you do end up paying Jaehyun twenty dollars to go see a movie and get dinner so that you and Johnny will finally have the apartment to yourselves. Honestly, you think that locking him in the abandoned storage room would have been more efficient, but this is definitely the more legal option.

Johnny doesn’t look surprised to see you when you knock on his door, letting you in with a smile on his face. He dips down for a kiss and pushes your jacket off of your shoulders, hanging it over the back of a chair. 

“My baby.” He whines, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tight to his chest. “I missed you!” 

You giggle and melt into his embrace. “Let’s make up for lost time, then.” “Did you have something in mind?” Johnny pulls away a little to look you in the eye, an amused smile on his face. He brushes his thumb over your cheek and you press into the touch like a cat. His smile widens. “You know, Jaehyun’s not here tonight. We have the whole place to ourselves.”

You act like this is new information. “Oh, well then it looks like we’ll have to make the most of it.” 

Johnny hums. “Wanna watch a movie? I’ve got some popcorn waiting to be popped and some wine just begging to be drunk.”

“We could do that.” You humour him, smiling and pulling away when he leans in for a kiss. He pouts and you giggle, pressing your lips to his cheek before moving closer to his ear. “Or you could fuck me.”

Johnny stiffens for a moment and you swear he stops breathing, but then a deep groan rumbles in his chest. “Fuck baby, you can’t just say that.” You giggle and pull back to look up at him with innocent eyes. “I can’t? Why, do you not want to fuck me?” It’s meant to be rhetorical, because you know just how badly he wants you. He’s made it plenty clear. You turn to walk away and Johnny grabs you by your shoulders, anchoring you to him, your back to his chest. He brings his lips to your ear and leaves a lingering kiss on the skin just under your lobe, pressing his hips to your ass. There’s already a sizable bulge there and your stomach flips, mouth suddenly dry.

“Does it feel like I don’t want to fuck you?” Johnny asks, rolling his hips into you. “I want to fuck you so badly that it hurts, baby. Do you know what I imagine doing to you?” 

His breathing gets a little heavier when you grind back on him. “Mhmm, no. Why don’t you show me?” Johnny effortlessly spins you around and picks you up, the squeal you let out muffled by his lips. He laughs softly and the corners of your mouth twitch up. “What?” You whine, pouting at him. “Why are you laughing at me?”

“I’m not.” He doesn’t sound convincing at all. “I’m not! You’re just too damn cute.” The pout on your face is kissed away by his insistent lips and he closes the door to his room with his foot, setting you down on the edge of his bed. 

There’s still a teasing smile on his lips but his eyes are dark. You swallow thickly as he drops to his knees in front of you, the heat of his palms on your bare thighs nearly too much for you. “Will my cute baby let me show her what I’ve been imagining?”

His words have your breath hitching and your head feeling fuzzy but you manage to find the energy to nod, a shaky “yes,” passing through your lips. Johnny moves his hands higher up your thighs, thumbs playing with the waistband of your shorts. Your stomach jolts when his thumb brushes over the bare skin just under your belly button.

“I’m gonna eat you out.” There’s no hesitation in the way he speaks, his gaze determined. Your core clenches at the thought of having his mouth on you, his pretty lips and tongue working to please you. “Help me take these off?” You stand up just long enough for Johnny to tug your shorts and panties down your legs, kicking them off so that they land somewhere far away from you. And then Johnny’s pushing you back down onto the bed, palms on your thighs to push your legs apart, and you nearly scream with the anticipation. You’ve waited so long for him that you feel like you might die if he doesn’t touch you right this second. 

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.” Johnny groans, staring at your pussy like he’s in awe. He parts your folds with his fingers, tongue coming out to moisten his lips. “You’re so pretty.” He kisses your inner thigh and hooks your legs over his shoulders, dipping down to press a kiss to your clit. You inhale sharply, and Johnny looks up at you with nothing but lust in his eyes as he begins to eat you out eagerly.

You have to throw your head back when he drags his tongue up your entrance, dipping the muscle inside just slightly before moving up to suck at your clit. It’s too much too fast and you feel like you’re falling, head spinning and feeling fuzzy with all the sensations he’s giving you. His hair is soft between your fingers when you reach down to grab a hold of it, trying to simultaneously pull him closer and push him away.

Johnny moans into your core and pulls away to smirk at you. The lower half of his face is covered in your arousal and his plump lips glisten. “Feel good, princess?” There’s a filthy noise as he spits onto your cunt, using his thumb to spread the saliva around. “Because you taste fucking divine.”

Breathless curses of his name leave you as your elbows finally give out, your body hitting the mattress only to arch right back off of it. Your hands fist in the sheets and your head rolls from side to side, your body not quite sure how to handle this much pleasure. “I’m gonna cum,” You whimper, pressing your heels into his back to draw him closer. “Johnny, keep- keep doing that, ‘m gonna cum.” It comes out as a plea, and another few cries of his name leave you before your orgasm washes over you, drowning you in the pleasure. 

The fog finally clears from your mind and you pry your eyes open to find Johnny still kneeling in front of you, licking his lips clean of your release. “Feel good?” You scoot back a little to allow Johnny room to join you on the bed. “Amazing. Knew you had pretty lips for a reason.”

“Aww, you think my lips are pretty?” Johnny teases, making an exaggerated kissy face. You scoff and steal a slow kiss from him, slipping your tongue past his lips at the same time you slide your palm over his dick, feeling the shape of him through the confines of his pants. He moans and tries to pull away but you catch his lower lip between your teeth, nibbling gently.

“I think you’re pretty. I also think we should take care of this, hmm?” You squeeze him gently and his thigh jerks. Johnny laughs breathlessly and reaches down to untie his pants, pushing them down his thighs just enough to free his cock. You waste no time wrapping your hand around the thick length, stroking him slowly. And Johnny makes such a pretty sight, his eyelids fluttering closed and his mouth hanging open. You shuffle back a little further on the bed, moving to lower your mouth to his cock, but he stops you.

“Too impatient,” He pants out, stepping off the bed and throwing his shirt off, kicking his pants to his ankles. “Wanna fuck you.” “I think I’m okay with that.” Your core clenches painfully at the thought of being filled up, and some of your arousal leaks down your thighs. He laughs at your response and reaches for a condom, rolling it on while you rid yourself of your shirt.

You throw your bra at him in an effort to get him to move faster, but it has the opposite effect. He looks at your bra for a moment before moving his gaze to your breasts, swallowing thickly. Both of you groan, but for different reasons.

“Babe, you can look at my boobs while you fuck me.” You whine impatiently. Johnny nods, tongue licking across his bottom lip slowly, eyes still locked on your breasts. It takes him a moment to crawl over to your body, settling between your legs and drawing you into a deep kiss. His dick brushes against your thigh and you wrap your legs around his waist.

Johnny’s always been a tease but you didn’t think he’d be this bad, holding what you want right in front of you, just out of reach. He presses the tip of his cock to your pussy, drags it through your folds, bumps your clit, does essentially everything except for what you want him to do. “Ready?” “Yeah, please,” You sigh, trying and failing not to sound desperate. And yet he still doesn’t put it in. He bends down to place a kiss on each of your nipples, swirling his tongue around one of the buds before moving to the other one. It has you sighing out in pleasure, and his teeth graze the sensitive skin at the same time he finally slides in.

The way his cock stretches you out has your eyes rolling back, your walls clenching around him desperately to adjust. Johnny swears and buries his face in the crook of your neck. “Fuck, babe, you gotta- you gotta stop doing that.” “I can’t,” You arch against him, the action only pushing his cock deeper. “Johnny, you’re so big.”

“You’re just too small.” Johnny quips back, but it’s lacking the normal bite. This time it sounds strained, and your stomach flips at knowing he’s just as affected as you are. “Jesus Christ, how are you so fucking tight?” He finally bottoms out with a groan, grinding into you with a little half-thrust before moving to pull out again. “Guess I’ll have to change that.” Johnny fucks like he simultaneously has all the time in the world and like he has none at all. His thrusts go from hard and fast to slow and deep, the overall effect leaving you with your head spinning and your body burning with pleasure. Your nails dig into his back and you chant his name like it’s a prayer, and he responds by fucking you even harder, sucking bruises into the soft skin of your neck.

One of his hands grasps at the sheets near your head, the other resting on your breast. He gives it a loving squeeze before moving his hand up your arm to lace your fingers together, lifting his head up to find your lips. Both of you are panting heavily but Johnny kisses you like oxygen isn’t important, messily sucking at your bottom lip and meeting your tongue with his own. He lets out a deep groan and breaks away from you, dropping his face back to the crook of your neck. His grip on your hand tightens. “I’m not gonna last much longer.” “Mhmm, okay,” You squeeze his hand back. “Touch me?” He lets go of your hand to clumsily work his hand between your bodies, rubbing tight circles into your clit. Your eyes roll and you arch against him, gasping out his name. Your orgasm is so close, you just need that extra push…

Johnny gets there before you can, teeth sinking into your shoulder to muffle his groan. His hips stutter and his rhythm grows sloppy but he keeps desperately fucking into you, fingers still frantically rubbing at your clit. He presses a messy kiss to your shoulder, moves up to your ear. “Come on, baby. Wanna see you cum for me.”

It only takes a few more of his dirty words, a few more desperate thrusts, a few more presses of his thumb to your clit before you’re coming, legs locking around his waist and nails digging into his back. He swears at how your walls lock around him in a vice, his hips stuttering again as a hiccupy moan leaves him.

He all but collapses on top of you after, rolling to the side and panting heavily. You giggly breathlessly and curl up next to him, head on his chest. His entire body shivers when you press a kiss to his nipple, and he misses the shot when he tries to throw the condom into the trashcan.

“Did it live up to your imagination?” You finally catch your breath enough to ask. 

Johnny shrugs. “I guess.” He cackles and catches your hands in his own when you slap his chest and make an indignant noise, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I’m kidding! But actually, it might’ve been even better. We might have to try this again soon, just to be sure.” “Right.” You drag the word out in one long syllable. “Is this your way of saying you wanna go for another round?” “That depends,” He says carefully. “Do you want another round?” You laugh and shake your head. “You’re insatiable.” The air is cold when you roll out of bed and help yourself to Johnny’s closet, slipping one of the sweatshirts that you’ll ‘forget’ to return later on over your head. “But yes. Later though, I’m starving.”

The popcorn Johnny had offered you earlier gets stuck in your throat when Jaehyun barges into the apartment, the door slamming open with way too much force. Johnny snickers and pats your back, moving your water closer.

“Hey man, you have fun?” Johnny asks, only half paying attention as he tries to make sure you don’t die. You manage to dislodge the kernel and give him a thumbs up.

“Yep, nothing better than a free movie!” Jaehyun states happily, chugging the red bull in hand before opening the fridge for another one.

Johnny furrows his eyebrows. “Free? How’d you get free tickets?” 

Your eyes widen and you try to motion at Jaehyun not to say anything, but he’s as oblivious as ever. “Y/n bought them for me.”

“Oh, did she?” Johnny grins, the pieces clicking into place. He turns to look at you, grabbing your hands in his own when you try to bury your face in them. Jaehyun’s already wandered away and Johnny shakes his head in disbelief. “You had this planned, didn’t you?”

“It’s not my fault!” You whine, pouting at him. “Can you blame me for wanting to have sex with my hot boyfriend?”

“Yeah, I am pretty hot.” Johnny sighs, laughing with his entire body when you glare at him. He coos at you and pulls you into his chest. “But am I your boyfriend?”

Your face goes hot and there’s a moment of sheer panic before you shoot your shot. “...yes?”

“So that makes you my girlfriend, then.” His smile looks even brighter now. “Well girlfriend, it looks like we’re gonna be buying Jaehyun a lot more movie tickets now.”

You groan. 

[ssahoodrathotchner]

Lover, Please Stay

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Summary: you get shot and Hotch worries about you while trying to keep it together. 

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: swearing, shooting, blood, injuries, hospitals, some angst and then fluff, mostly just wanted to write some worried!Hotch 

A/N: here we go! this is my first fic, so enjoy

Masterlist

---

As far as dates go, getting shot in the stomach twice was definitely not the way you wanted the night to end. Especially because you actually cared about the man sitting across from you in the dim lighting of the restaurant and you definitely had something else planned involving him, your clothes hitting the floor, and then the wall, kitchen counter, possibly the sofa, and of course, your bed and maybe the shower—but all that would have to wait as you slump back in your chair, stunned and bleeding. To his credit, however, Aaron Hotchner is not about to let the man who shot you get away with it, and swiftly tackles, disarms, and subdues the shooter, in record time, you think hazily to yourself with a small smile. After making sure the unsub won’t do anything else –not that he could even if he wanted to– Aaron turns to you. Eyes wild, he finds you –rather dramatically if you say so yourself—bleeding out and losing consciousness. So much for after-dinner plans.

“How romantic,” you gasp out and suddenly at your side, Aaron tips you out of your chair and lays you on the ground, immediately shedding his jacket to apply pressure to your abdomen and the growing red spots staining the dark green dress you had worn tonight. Fuck you loved this dress. And his jacket.

“….Sweetheart? You still with me?” Aaron’s voice wavers, and you realize he’s leaning over you and trying to gauge how you’re doing, aside from the obvious, of course.

You huff a laugh out—big mistake—and a small cry tears out of your throat as the pain in your midsection makes you regret your actions. Turning your head with a surprising amount of effort, your eyes float over him, taking in the way his hair sticks up, the frantic gleam to his eyes (tears?) and then down the black button-down he wore to his bloody hands on your body. You try for a reassuring smile—it doesn’t land—and then there’s some sort of commotion on the other side of the restaurant which you belatedly realize is the stampede of patrons out, as the ambulance slams to a halt outside, sirens blaring.

“Love, y’need t’figure this out,” you grit out, knowing that he won’t—can’t—argue with you as you look up at him.

“Y/N...”

“No, Aaron. Get th’ team,” your eyes are closing and breathing is getting harder so you stop, and hope that he figures this out. He has to. You know Aaron will want to protect you and go to the hospital this instant, but you can’t let him do that just yet. Not this time. It’s not everyday a BAU agent gets shot in a crowded restaurant in front of her boyfriend, who is also a BAU agent. It’s too weird to be random and the rest of the team needs to get here now.

The next few moments pass in a blur of shouting and pain, as you are lifted on to a stretcher and poked and prodded. Tiredly, you try to keep your eyes on Aaron, but in the noise you find your head rushing and with a sharp pain in your stomach, you fall into darkness.

Barred from climbing into the ambulance with you, Aaron has never been so scared and enraged. The ambulance screeches towards the hospital as he quickly fires off a text to the team –you’ve been shot, it doesn’t look good, meet him at the restaurant. And then he sits on the sidewalk. And thinks. And seethes.

How could he not have noticed the man advancing toward your table sooner? How could he not have noticed how out of place the man looked and the way that he kept a hand in his jacket pocket? And finally, why didn’t the man shoot him before getting taken down? Head in his hands, Hotch lets out a sigh before clenching his fists and closing his eyes, waiting. There are police officers milling around, taping off the restaurant and the unsub is in a car around here somewhere, or maybe already on his way to the police station, but Aaron can’t shake the fear in his mind. He should be speeding off after the ambulance, keeping you company, and pacing the hospital lobby until he knows you’re okay. You need to be okay. But your words ring in his head, figure this out, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least try. You need him to try. He needs to focus.

A hand claps down on his shoulder and Aaron jerks his head up to find Morgan and Prentiss looking at him with sad eyes. Accepting Morgan’s hand, Hotch stands, and after a beat, straightens up and becomes SSA Aaron Hotchner, BAU Unit Chief, and not Aaron Hotchner, concerned and, quite frankly, terrified boyfriend.

“Garcia is pulling security footage from the restaurant and surrounding area. She’s also keeping tabs on the unsub at the police station and will let us know as soon as the cops figure out who this guy is.” Morgan says as Hotch looks around at the crime scene that’s sprung up around him.

“Unless she figures it out first,” Prentiss adds “which she probably will, it’s Garcia.”

A black SUV pulls up, and Reid, Rossi, and JJ emerge. Rossi immediately takes stock of the blood on Aaron’s hands and the usual chaos of a crime scene. Reid looks shaken to his core, and JJ isn’t much better, although she is valiantly trying to put on a brave face if only for her own sake.

“Aaron, you should be at the hospital. We can handle this,”

“Dave, she told me to figure it out. It was one of the last things she said and if I don’t and she…” Aaron trails off as the rest of the team looks at him, worried.

“I need to do this for her,” he says softly, thinking of how you looked as you were whisked away by the ambulance. How you passed out, face contorted in pain and then still.

“Hotch…” JJ lays a hand on his arm and squeezes.

“We got this. You can run point from the hospital with Garcia,”

That shakes him a bit.

“Garcia is running point from the hospital?” he wants to smile, but he can’t. Not while you’re possibly fatally injured.

“Of course she is,” says Morgan with a small smile.

“She went directly there after you texted us. She said she doesn’t want Y/N to be alone, ” Spencer supplies, and Hotch can’t help but be startled by how much he appreciates the thoughtfulness of his team in this moment.

Looking around the circle, he realizes that he doesn’t have to take on the investigation and your injury alone. No shit, he can hear you say. That’s what they’re here for, dumbass. Teamwork.

Halfheartedly, he tries “but the police need to take my statement and—“

“—and they can do that from the hospital after we’re done here, I’m sure they’ll make an exception for the Unit Chief of the BAU since his girlfriend got shot,” Rossi finishes for him. “Aaron. Go.”

“Come on, Hotch, I’ll drive,” and as JJ pulls him into the SUV, he watches the rest of the team disperse amongst the police and crime scene techs with a determination and focus he wishes he could emulate right now. Instead, he tries to focus on getting to you and how good it’ll feel to hold your hand again.

---

The ambulance ride is blurry and the lights are too bright and the noises too loud as you slide in and out of consciousness after initially passing out. Vaguely, you hear something about a perforated something or other and blood loss, but that’s really all you can understand before going back to being unconscious. Again. If only falling asleep was this easy.

---

Aaron never particularly liked hospitals, but now, with your life in danger, he hates them. Striding into the lobby, JJ at his side, his eyes find Garcia, furiously typing and wiping away tears as fast as she can. As his feet carry him to the desk, JJ breaks off to comfort Garcia.

“I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner, and I’m here for Agent Y/L/N she should have arrived half an hour ago with two GSWs to the abdomen,” his voice is surprisingly collected, as the nurse looks up at him from her computer.

“She was rushed into emergency surgery almost as soon as she got here. I don’t have an update for you now, Agent Hotchner, and it could be awhile until I know something for sure,” the nurse replies with a sad smile.

With a curt nod, Aaron walks over to Garcia, who now has JJ’s hand firmly in her own. Upon seeing him, Garcia springs up and sets her laptop and JJ’s hand aside to instead throw her arms around her stoic Unit Chief. Stunned but not unwelcome, Hotch reaches around to hold the crying tech analyst. Pulling back from the embrace and sniffling, Garcia looks at Hotch and her eyes widen almost comically.

“Blood. Oh my God, blood,” she states in a hurried breath and it’s only then that Hotch realizes that his arms and torso are covered in your blood still; he hasn’t had a chance to wash it off. Looking down at himself, his vision blurs for a second and the weight of his appearance takes a toll. Stumbling to the bathroom as JJ and Garcia reach for him, he staggers through the door and to the closest sink before throwing up. Leaning heavily on his hands, he hangs his head and catches his breath before turning the tap on. Slowly, methodically, he cleans his hands, then up his arms. Splashing water on his face he looks in the mirror, noting the bags under his eyes, the way his hair sticks up on one side, and the dried blood on his black shirt as it catches the shitty fluorescent lighting.

You’re laughing at him and he can’t help but smile back at you. In the light of the restaurant he loves the way your eyes shine when you look at him. Something catches his attention out of the corner of his eye, but you’re still laughing and he loves the way you look when you laugh. Bang. There’s screaming. Bang. You slump in your chair across from him. His stomach drops and there’s a roaring sound in his ears and years of training take over. The unsub stands still, gun in hand, and Aaron moves. Takedown. Push the gun out of reach. Hold the guy down. Swift punch to the face and the guy is out. You make a sound—a whine? a scream? his name?—and Aaron turns. You. Hands on your stomach, but Aaron can see the blood seeping through your fingers. Gently, as gently as he can, he gets you to lie on the ground and uses his jacket to try and staunch some of the bleeding. Your eyes flutter and he calls your name, asks how you’re doing, something to keep you awake and talking and with him and—

A knock on the door draws him out of his mind and JJ pokes her head in.

“I found a sweatshirt in the back of the SUV and thought you might want to put it on instead of having to stay in your shirt since…” she trails off and gestures to his bloody clothes.

Wordlessly, Hotch takes the sweatshirt from her. It’s one of his, he knows that, but he can’t remember why it’s in the SUV, especially because he hasn’t seen it since—You. You had it last. Inhaling your scent off the piece of clothing almost shatters him again and he holds the sweatshirt to his face as he tries not to cry. Slipping into a stall he slowly undoes his shirt before crumpling it up and dropping it on the ground. Pulling the sweatshirt over his head, he takes a moment to collect himself before stooping down for his shirt and walking out the bathroom door back into the waiting area.

Sitting next to Garcia he can see that there’s a picture of the unsub on her screen, as well as general demographic information and stuff streaming past that’s too fast for him to read.

“Garcia, what have you found.” Business as usual. Except for the part where he doesn’t know how you are or if you’re alive.

“Well, Sir, the bastard who shot Y/N is Parker Harrison and from what I can tell, he’s a creep. Like look-through-your-windows-and-take-photos-while-you-change kind of creep so—“

“—so it’s weird that he came up to you two in a crowded room and shot Y/N when there is nothing that Garcia’s found to suggest that that’s even something Harrison would even consider,” JJ finishes while continuing to glare at the photo on the screen.

Hotch sighs and puts his head in his hands. Again. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he looks at JJ.

“Call the rest of the team and let them know that we know who the unsub is, but he doesn’t fit the profile for the crime and see if they’ve found anything out of the ordinary.”

With a nod, JJ moves to her feet and goes out the front door to make the call. Garcia makes a noise somewhere between frustration and surprise before renewing her furious typing. Aaron looks towards the nurse at the desk, the same one he had spoken to earlier, and catches her eye. She shakes her head and he tips his head back against the wall behind him, eyes closing.

---

You don’t think you’ve died. At least, not yet. Maybe this is some fucked up afterlife precursor, but you really, sincerely, hope you aren’t dead because that would suck for you and for Aaron. And Jack. And the team. Fuck you really hope you aren’t dead, but the fact that you can’t feel your body really isn’t helping you figure out what the hell is going on. There’s pressure building in your chest and as it expands, it feels like you are going to explode. You fight against whatever is happening—it hurts, dammit—and then back to nothingness.

---

He waits for hours. Pacing, sitting, standing, silent. Garcia mumbles to herself as she works, and calls the team with possible updates, but Aaron can’t bring himself to focus on anything but you. JJ comes and goes, standing, sitting, pacing, leaning over Garcia’s shoulder. She calls Will and the team a few times to give or get updates and for that, Aaron is grateful. He knows he should be doing more, as Unit Chief and as the person you told to get the unsub, but you you are his focus. He nods when Garcia shows him something and shakes his head when JJ appears with food and coffee. And he waits. At some point a police officer shows up and Hotch mechanically rattles off what happened. There isn’t much he can say since they have the shooter in custody already. Shortly thereafter, the rest of the team show up and all of a sudden Hotch is suffocated by the amount of people in the waiting room. Prentiss moves to JJ’s side and Morgan to Garcia’s, talking quietly. Reid and Rossi trade glances before descending on Hotch.

“Any news?” Rossi asks, but Hotch shakes his head.

“You guys find anything at the scene?” And Hotch is hoping for something anything to make this make sense.

“Well, according to the security cam footage, the unsub was dropped off at the restaurant and then walked inside, bypassing the hostess and making his way to your table. It seems like Harrison knew exactly where you were going to be and when, which is concerning. But after you take him down and he got to the station, he didn’t talk—and still hasn’t which indicates that he may be trying to protect someone which furthers the idea that he really didn’t come up with this on his own given that his previous criminal record didn’t indicate that he would shoot someone that he deemed a target, although Garcia is currently going through the contents of his electronics to see what she can find and—“ Reid is effectively cut off by Rossi, who states “and so we still don’t know enough about this guy to draw any concrete conclusions, but this isn’t an ordinary unsub and if he does have a partner, we need to figure out who that is before someone else gets hurt; possibly someone on this team.”

Aaron frowns to himself at this information. He thought that the team would be able to find something find more about Harrison, but it seems the universe is making him wait not only on you, but the fucker who shot you as well. Collapsing down on to the nearest chair, Aaron tries to come up with a plan, a preliminary profile, something that will help him figure out what exactly you’ve been drawn into. Staring down at his shoes, he fails to notice the way the team looks at each other, and then at him. With a sigh, Prentiss moves from JJ’s side to Hotch’s and sits. He doesn’t look at her, or even acknowledge her presence, but doesn’t shake off the hand that she lays gently on his shoulder as he continues to study his shoes.

It’s well into the early hours of the morning when the team is alerted to a development in your wellbeing by the loud squeak of the swinging door that leads to surgery. Half asleep, Rossi wakes the others from their various levels of slumber as Aaron stumbles to the doctor after he announces your name, eyes wide and hopeful.

“First, Agent Y/L/N is alive. She coded in surgery about two hours ago,” Aaron swears he stops breathing “—but we were able to revive her and finish stitching her up and repairing the internal damage. The bullets entered her abdomen and tore through her large intestine, and she did suffer more blood loss that I had hoped, but in time, she will recover.”

Aaron’s breath rushes out all at once and he almost collapses with the weight of his relief. He hears the gasps and murmurs of the team behind him which confirm their own happiness that you are alive.

“Can I see her?” the words leave him quickly, and he knows you won’t be awake, but he needs to see you. Needs to make sure you’re still here, with him.

“As you can imagine, she won’t be awake for quite some time. Her body has sustained major trauma, and we will be keeping her under watch for at least a week, depending on how long it takes her to wake up and then the rate at which her body’s healing process takes place. However, you may see her, one at a time, and are welcome to be here during official visiting hours tomorrow.”

Without turning to the team, Aaron nods and gestures for the doctor to lead the way, mind spinning with relief and worry, a dizzying rush of feelings at knowing that you’re alive. Stopping outside of a room, the doctor looks at Aaron before opening the door and stepping aside. Making his way to the side of your bed, Aaron can’t help but take stock of your appearance. Eyes tracing your face, fingers lightly following the same path before coming to hold your hand as he sits in the chair next to your bed. Exhaling slowly, he raises your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles, eyes finding your sleeping face and finally, Aaron allows some tension to leave his body. You’re here you’re here and you’re alive and breathing.

---

Your return to actual conscious reality is slow, to say the least. The steady beeping of your heart monitor catches your attention first because it’s just so damn annoying. But hey, it means you’re alive—what a relief—so you really can’t find it in your hazy mind to care too much about the incessant beeping noise as you drift into consciousness. The next thing to draw your focus is the scratchiness of the sheets surrounding your body—are hospital sheets purposely so uncomfortable?—and the way that you can feel someone holding your hand. Aaron. Fighting to open your eyes damn those fluorescents you manage to squint your way awake. Well, as awake as one can be after what you just went through, but it’s an improvement to whatever semi-alive state you had been in even if you are still in a moderate amount of discomfort.

“…Sweetheart?” there he is. You squeeze his hand and turn to see him more fully, eyes raking over his face. Teary-eyed and smiling, you’ve never seen him look more handsome (okay besides when he was wearing his black button-down and black jacket at dinner before you got shot, but that’s obvious).

“Aaron,” his name leaves your lips on a breath and you smile back at him as he kisses your hand before leaning over and kissing your forehead.

“I was so worried, Y/N. So worried about you,” he continues down to your nose, your cheeks, and finally, finally, he presses his lips to yours. Hands intertwined with his other one coming to cup your face, you pull apart just enough to look each other in the eye. And to think you might not have survived to do this ever again. The thought is enough to bring tears to your eyes and as they fall down your cheeks, Aaron kisses your forehead again before leaning his head against yours.

“You’re okay, Sweetheart. You’re here, I’m here, the team is in the waiting room. We’re all okay,” he says gently, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You continue to cry, soft whimpers escaping you as the pain in your midsection sets in and you realize how much you could have lost if you died.

“Th’ team. Need t’see ‘em,” you mumble through your tears, and Aaron nods before reaching for his phone and texting someone, staying by your side the whole time. Your tears continue to fall, but Aaron’s presence and steady reassurance calms you and soon you’re just staring at each other, hands clasped, reveling in your closeness.

A nurse enters the room and checks your vitals on all the machines you’re connected to before remarking on how good it is to see you awake and then she’s gone; Aaron doesn’t leave your side.

A swift knock on the door turns your head, and a smile breaks across your face as the team shuffles into your room and gathers around your bed. You watch them as they come in, looking for injuries or something out of the ordinary. However, they’re all okay, looking at you with sad hopeful eyes, but they’re okay just like Aaron said.

“You’re okay,” you whisper, wide-eyed.

“We’re okay? Mama, we should be checking on you. You’re the one whose been unconscious for a day and a half,” Morgan chuckles.

“’M okay. Good. Great. Sp’tacular,” you assure them with a smirk and a wave at your general hospital-chic appearance. You don’t have to turn to Aaron to know he’s rolling his eyes as the others let out small laughs at your answer.

“Glad you’re awake, Y/N,” Rossi states with a smile as Reid nods behind him.

“We were worried,” JJ adds.

“Don’t you ever do that again! I mean it,” Garcia says, pointedly. You huff out a laugh and grimace as your abdomen twinges in pain. Note to self: don’t do that again. You catch the rest of the room in a collective wince out of the corner of your eye, but your focus is now on Aaron, as he leans impossibly closer to you, gauging your level of pain through his furrowed brow.

“We’ll be back later,” Emily suggests, laying one hand on JJ’s arm and another on Reid’s shoulder. “Get some rest, Y/N.”

“Will do,” you grit out, pain subsiding only slightly in your stomach. Your eyes shut and over the sound of your heavy breathing, you hear footsteps retreating and the closing of the door. Aaron’s hand brushes your hair back off your forehead and comes to rest on your cheek. With your eyes closed, you realize just how fucking tired you are now that you’ve confirmed everyone is fine with your own eyes. You squeeze Aaron’s hand, and as you give in to your exhaustion, you feel him kiss your knuckles with a sigh.

“You’re okay,” he whispers, and then you’re out.

---

You wake up to a hushed argument taking place between Morgan and Rossi at the foot of your bed and surprise surprise Aaron’s scowling at both of them.

Fighting through a yawn, you mumble, “G’morning, everyone,” pointedly glaring at Morgan and Rossi who at least have the decency to look sorry for disturbing you.

“Afternoon, princess,” Morgan says with a nod. “Nice to see you awake again.”

You roll your eyes and can’t help but notice the careful way Aaron’s watching your face for any signs of discomfort. Squeezing his hand—has he let go of it since he got here? A thought to pursue at a later time—you turn your attention back to the agents at the end of your bed.

“What have I missed?” Rossi looks at Aaron before taking a breath and facing you.

“We think the guy who shot you has a partner and we’re trying to figure out who it is.”

Well shit. Schooling your face into a somewhat neutral expression, you repeat “…a partner…?” and something akin to fear washes over you. There’s someone out there who wants you dead. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Steeling yourself, you look over at Aaron for confirmation and the hard look in his eyes is all you need. Fuck. Sinking further back into the pillows behind you, you stare at the ceiling and try to fully comprehend what you’ve just learned. Breathing deeply, you try and quell the panic that’s rising in your chest. Shit. Now what happens. Eyes clenched shut, you address the room.

“So, what now? There’s another guy so what do we have on him what do we know has the unsub said anything that might help us? Something? Phone calls at weird times, unusual credit card activity, change in schedule, unexplained absences from work, something has to stick out,” Your words rush out before you can stop them.

“Well—“ Morgan starts but you cut him off, rambling.

“—and what’s the name of the unsub anyway? What’s the name of the fucker who shot me two times?” you ask, eyes flying open at the realization that you only know him as “the unsub” and not his actual name.

“Parker Harrison,” Hotch states with enough contempt for you to stop and squint at him, worried.

“Sounds like an asshole,” you remark, but Hotch doesn’t smile like you thought he would.

It’s at this point that Morgan wisely makes some excuse about seeing if Garcia has found anything new and he herds Rossi out the door before the other man can protest. The click of the door behind them is deafening as you continue to watch Aaron’s face while he stares down at your joined hands on the bed. Tracing your knuckles, he doesn’t elaborate on the unsub and so you wait. You focus on your own breathing, Aaron’s hand in yours, and his presence next to you.

However, there’s only so much silence you can take when you have so many questions that you would like answered. Tugging on his hand, you wait for him to look up at you before speaking.

“Aaron, who is this guy?”

Silence.

You try again.

“Aaron, I can’t help you profile the partner if I don’t know who Harrison is. Let me help you catch this fucker,” and that catches his attention. With a small quirk of his lips, he exhales and leans closer to brush some hair out of your face.

“You shouldn’t be profiling or working at all, Y/N. You got shot. You need to rest,” he says as his hand settles on your cheek.

You snort and roll your eyes. As if.

“I can multi-task, love. Also, I need to work this case. Do you really think I’ll be able to rest and recover knowing there’s someone out there who wants me dead? Harrison is the first step to figuring this out and I can help, Hotch. I’m a profiler and he’s an unsub. This isn’t anything we haven’t faced before and we will catch him. So, once again, I’m asking you to let me help,” you implore. “I’m on bedrest, not dead. I can be semi-useful, even while lying in a hospital bed.”

With that, Hotch sucks in a quick breath and his eyebrows pull together.

“But you did die,” he says lowly. “You died you were dead. The doctor said you coded on the table. I could have lost you,” and with that last admission, his voice breaks. Bowing his head, the slight shake of his shoulders is the only sign you have to know that he’s crying. Crying over you. Oh, Aaron. Carefully sliding over in your bed—ouch—you pull on Aaron’s hand insistently.

“C’mere, love,” you whisper, and Aaron maneuvers his way on to the bed. Has he always been this tall or are hospital beds just smaller than normal ones?

Slowly, mindful of your injuries even in the midst of his own emotional turmoil, he curves himself around you as tears continue to fall. You lift your hand to card through his hair at a steady pace and eventually, just rest your hand on his face, catching tears and brushing them away. You raise your other hand, which is still holding his, to your lips and softly kiss his fingertips.

“I’m here. We’re here and we’re okay, and I love you,” you repeat gently until the shaking in his shoulders subsides and his breathing evens out to match yours. Holding your hand to his face, Hotch gives it the gentlest kiss imaginable before clearing his throat.

“I love you too, Sweetheart. So much. I was scared you weren’t going to make it, and then to find out you almost didn’t?” he trails off with a heavy sigh.

“It’ll take more than a few bullets to take me away from you, Aaron Hotchner,” you say. “I mean it.”

Instead of responding, Aaron nuzzles the top of your head and moves impossibly closer to you on the bed.

“I just���“ he stops. “I waited for hours to hear how you were doing. I was basically useless to the team because all I could think about was you and how you told me to get the guy and figure it out, but I couldn’t. Not without you.”

“Oh, Aaron,” you shift so you can smile at him warmly and then he’s leaning down to you, cradling your face, and kissing you with a desperation that makes your heart ache. You return his kiss with all the reassurance you can offer. I love you. I’m here. I’m alive. I’m sorry. Tilting your head, you move a hand to his chest, over his heart trying to do what you can to get closer to him. I love you I love you I love you. 

Breaking for air, Aaron presses one last lingering kiss to your forehead before settling back into your side. Heart racing, you smile contentedly at the man in front of you before trying to get comfortable. Leaning just a little too far forward, your breath leaves you in a whoosh before the pain sets in, letting you know you’ve overdone it just a bit—and just when things were getting good, too. Ever the protector, Hotch readjusts your pillows and presses the call button for the nurse as you let out a whimper. Soon enough, a nurse makes her way into the room and asks you how you are—brilliant—and what level your pain is at—an eight—before giving you a very welcome round of pain meds.

As your body relaxes and your mind starts to drift, you turn your gaze to Aaron, still by your side. He kisses your cheek and then your forehead softly as you close your eyes. Safe for now.

[calif0rnia-lovers]

sweet as pie.

a/n: please join me in welcoming sam wilson to the page. first story dedicated to this classic man, surely not the last.

pairing: sam wilson x black!reader

rating: 💙

main masterlist | taglist | divider © @whimsicalrogers

sum: sam is home. although times have changed, his sister’s intentions for him have not. sarah would love for her brother to settle down, and she knows the perfect person to make him do it. but when sam gets caught up with work, he misses the date sarah has set up for him.

words: 2.3K

It’s funny how the human mind works.

How easily certain moments can slip through its cracks. Names, dates, songs, conversations, faces lost to the wind, never to be remembered again. In the same turn, how those same things can be retained, recited down to the last detail in perfection.

Sam Wilson has seen enough in his lifetime--more than most men. No one could condemn him for forgetting the smallest of details from time to time. Sometimes he does. He is human. But, strangely, he can never forget a single detail when it comes to you.

Sam can still remember the first time he saw you.

The coffee-colored, cardboard box you carried in your arms--'living room' written across the front panel in your mother’s flawless penmanship. The dark curls pineappled to rest atop the crown of your head--a last-ditch attempt of fighting the Louisiana heat. The oversized Purple Rain t-shirt faded from too many runs through the wash. The round, black sunglasses sliding down the brim of your nose as you paused to take note of the boy watching you from his front window. Down to the scuffed, worn high tops that could barely pass for white.

He even remembers the soft smile you gave him once he froze--too embarrassed to move from the window after being caught watching you for the third time--before turning to lug the box up the steps of your front porch.

It was the summer of ‘94, and Sam Wilson was running late. He was expected to be at the docks assisting his father. Instead, he was peeping around his mother’s powder blue curtains, attempting to score glimpses of his new neighbors. Primarily their teenage daughter.

It’s not every day that Delacroix welcomes a new resident--let alone an entire family. Later that night, over dinner, his mother shared that you were entering your senior year--same as him.

He still remembers the knotting of his stomach. The strange and unusual experience of being tongue-tied when he’d tripped over his name--his name for god’s sake--that morning, you opened your front door to find him and Sarah on the other side. The kindness of your dark brown eyes as they met his, the soft giggle you released as you ignored his sputtering to accept the chocolate chip cookies his mother sent her children to deliver.

He also remembers the vision of you in your wedding dress. The smile he had to keep plastered on his face the night he learned his skepticism, surrounding death by broken heart, faded. You’ve never felt pain until you’ve seen the woman you love marry another man.

Sam must admit. When he returned, he expected--hoped--that those feelings would have disappeared. That they would have been erased from his life. Only, the moment he returned home, Sam discovered those feelings remained--were stronger even.

Five years later, he found you in the same house. Your parents no lived there. After their return from the blip, they packed up their things. Suddenly, tackling their bucket list was their main priority. You still had your husband’s last name but no husband. He was gone, lost to a younger woman.

Five years later, and Sam Wilson finds himself still frozen by the sight of you.

The long-sleeved maroon shirt he’s tugged on is not his number one choice. It’s all he had in his bag. The time on his watch had forced him into an ultimatum. Either run home, shower, and change into the outfit Sarah helped him pick out and risk being five hours late. Or head straight to your house, and risk being four hours and forty-five minutes late.

Sam opted for the latter.

Flowers in hand, he stands in the gateway of your backyard. His eyes admire the glow of the string lights against your skin. The yard has been transformed. Several tables and chairs, enough to host the entire neighborhood, squeezed into its space. Filled with music and laughter a few hours before the backyard is now quiet. Only the sounds of crickets, and the rustle of the trash bag in your hand, can be heard over the racing of Sam’s heart.

“Hey.” Sam takes a step forward, clearing his throat. “Sorry, I’m late.”

“Late is an understatement.” You don’t bother looking up from the plates stacked in your hands. Dumping them into the black trash bag, you move towards the next table. “You missed the entire party.”

After dumping the trash, you realize that Sam is no longer in the backyard. You find him in the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” You ask, coming to a stop in the doorway.

Sam glances up from the soap-covered glass in his hands. “Helping you clean up.”

You glance around the kitchen, only to find that he’s managed to wash nearly the entire stack of dishes you’ve been dreading the entire night.

“I didn’t realize you still did stuff like this,” you tease. “What with you running off to save the world. Figured you’d just hire someone to do it for you.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I got you to keep me humble,” he winks.

Sam dries his hands with the bumblebee printed hand towel, a satisfied grin on his lips as he takes in the spotless kitchen. He’s too busy admiring his handiwork to realize you’re standing alongside him.

He turns, the snarky comment he’s prepared lost in his throat as he takes you in.

You can’t deny him a smile as you watch his eyes widen, a boyish grin brightening his face as he takes in the plate you’re holding. On it rests a single slice of homemade apple pie, topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and perfectly drizzled caramel.

“I think you’ve earned this.”

“You saved me a piece?”

“No,” you sigh, allowing your eyes to roll. “I actually saved it for me. But if I have to look at your pathetic attempt at puppy dog eyes one more second--”

“You were hoping I’d show up.” The grin on Sam’s face has morphed into a trademark smirk, the sight pulling a giggle from your lips. “You and I both know you don’t save, or share your pie with just anyone.”

Sam’s observation is spot on.

You don’t share your pie--or food, for that matter--with just anyone. In the chaos of hosting the neighborhood, you didn’t have a moment to stop and enjoy your own party. Let alone a slice of the apple pies you’d spent the previous night preparing.

Apple pies--specifically yours--were Sam Wilson’s true weakness.

The moment he sees you lugging home a bag full of granny smith and macintosh apples, he’s on full helicopter mode. You’re not sure how he knows, but he’s got a radar. One that somehow allows him to prophesize the exact moment the pies are out of the oven and set aside to cool.

He’ll show up, stopping by to say hi, or to see if you still need the drainpipe your ex-husband never got around to working on fixed, or to “pass along a message” from Sarah--as though your best friend couldn’t pick up the phone and call. Whatever the excuse Sam Wilson always manages to be the one to get the first slice of your apple pie. He’s smart enough to know that once the children of the neighborhood catch a whiff, they’ll show up on your doorstep. And as much as he loves the kids--Sam isn’t letting them steal his pie.

Sam’s words come out muffled through a mouthful of apples and crust. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, Y/N. You should sell these. You'd make a killing.”

“And I’ve already told you, it’s just for fun,” you dismiss his advice, taking another spoonful of ice cream. “Besides, what do you expect me to do? Quit my good paying--although painstakingly boring--job in the hopes that enough people will like my baking to keep me afloat?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Sam nods, a smile growing as he watches your eyes roll.

It’s a conversation the two of you have had for years. Here is the rundown of how it plays out--every single time.

Sam: suggests that you finally open up the bakery you’ve been talking about since your teenage years.

You: dismiss his words of advice, reminding Sam that most teenage dreams are foolish.

Sam: ends the conversation with, “I’d show up every day for a piece.”

You: spend the rest of the night wondering if he’s right, about taking the chance, only to psych yourself out before going to bed.

“I’m just saying,” Sam sighs, sliding the plate to the side. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned. Life is going to pass you by, regardless, no matter what you do. If you give it a shot, and it fails--which is never going to happen--your life isn’t going to end.”

You glance up from the table, a tiny smile on your lips as you take in his soft smile.

“Maybe you’re right,” you shrug. “If all else fails, I’ll just tell everyone it’s the Falcon’s favorite pie--”

“You’ll have people flooding in from across the country.”

“It’s settled,” you giggle. “I’m using you in my business model.”

“Hey,” Sam chuckles. “As long as I get a cut, I’m not complaining.”

A silence falls over the tiny kitchen as your gaze drops from his.

Sam lightly raps his knuckles against the table before pushing his chair back.

“Uh—I should probably head out. You’re probably tired. I just wanted to come by and apologize...again.”

“Wow,” the light laugh you release halts Sam’s act of standing up. “The second you get what you came for you hit the ground running?”

The response is automatic. The chance to tease him is one you never pass up.

Sam’s brow raises as he takes in your smile.

“That’s not what I came for,” he admits.

“What did you come for then?”

“To ask you over to my place for breakfast tomorrow.”

The proposition hangs in the air, Sam nearly squirming in his seat as you take your time studying his gaze. You let out a sigh, your shoulders shrugging lightly, once you finally speak.

“I don’t know, Sam” You shake your head. Picking up the plate, you stand and cross the kitchen to the sink. “You just have so many responsibilities, nowadays, running around trying to save the world--”

“I’m not going anywhere tonight,” he’s quick with the reassurance. “Or any day, until we get through that date you promised me.”

You turn to face him, arms crossing over your chest as he comes to a stop before you.

“Say I show up. You have to promise me something.”

“Whatever you want.”

He knows that promise can end up being a slippery slope, depending on how hard you’re willing to make him work for it.

“If something comes up, in the future, you call me. And you tell me exactly why you can’t be here. Nobody gets to stand me up. Not the Falcon. And sure as hell, not Sam Wilson. Understood?”

Sam’s eyes drop to your interlaced fingers, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he gives your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” Standing on your toes, you place a kiss against his cheek. “Now, go get some sleep. You’re making me breakfast in the morning. I’m expecting waffles, bacon, freshly squeezed O.J.--the works.”

if at any point you would like to be removed from the taglist, just message me

sam wilson tags: @missroro @fangirl-swagg

main tags: @crowngold @cant-decide-at-this-moment @wiccanmetallicrose @themarkblues @gemini0410 @binooo98 @the-jer-bear @abbiesthings @trhett21 @trulysuccubus @leahnicole1219 @starrynite7114 @awkwardtayler @toni9 @queenbeered @kaystacks17 @thesandbeneathmytoes @richonne4life @cocotheclown @oscars-wifeyyy @jennisdirtyimagines @ughdontbeboring @myakai13 @linziland13 @sadeyesgf @brattyfics @sincerelykas @ladyofsoa @pearlkitten33 @tian-monique @megapeacelovemusic-blog @rosieposie0624 @appropriate-writers-name @demonquartz @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @beiroviski @chaneajoyyy @frostingguru @seize-the-droid @cutiebubbleboo @siempremamita @awkwardtayler @relaxing-najee @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @inyourbackpocketisbutterflies

[elliottspond]

Heart Hands

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Summary: (Angst w/ Fluff End) Reader has trouble moving past a bad case and can’t sleep, but Spencer is there for them.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Unresolved problems from a case

[Please do not steal my work. Reblogs are appreciated. Happy reading!]

You open the doors to the bullpen, walking to your desk across from Spencer’s. He’s already sitting there writing in a file, and he looks up when you set your newly packed go bag down under your desk. You can’t help but notice the bags under his eyes that are worse than normal, and you know it’s your fault.

When the team got back from a case in California last week you guys got called away again and just got back yesterday. The California case was tough for you, and you feel like you didn’t get enough time to process through it since you were called away so soon.

You and Spencer haven’t had much alone time with all the cases, and it doesn’t help that you’d requested a separate hotel room from him. That’s when he started to worry, inviting you into his room but you would refuse. You knew you wouldn’t be sleeping, even if you were next to Spencer, and you didn’t want to keep him up. 

The two of you are also in the phase where you spend the night at each other’s apartments—having been dating for a while—but last night you made up an excuse to stay alone at your apartment. So yeah, you’ve been avoiding him.

He had the right to worry. He was your boyfriend and before that, you were close friends. You know you should open up and talk about what’s going through your head, but you’d rather deal with it yourself, late at night… getting next to no sleep.

You should probably open up.

Spencer smiles at you when you look at him and you manage a smile back, dropping it when you turn to go to the kitchen. When you get there, you pull your mug from the cabinet and pour yourself coffee, putting nothing in it before you take a much needed sip.

Turning to go back to your desk, you stop when you see Spencer, almost spilling your coffee. “Jesus, you scared me.”

“Are you okay?” He ignores your comment, staring at you with worried eyes. You almost roll your eyes, tired of him asking this question, but you catch yourself. Instead, you try to respond but you can’t get a word out before Spencer starts again, “Don’t lie to me.”

You purse your lips, looking down at your coffee. “I haven’t been sleeping that well.” A vague answer, but an answer nonetheless. He most likely already knows why, figuring it out from when you first started avoiding him. As Spencer starts to reply, he’s interrupted by Penelope walking in.

“Good morning loves.” She walks over to you and Spencer, her colorful heels clicking against the tile floor. “Although, maybe not good. So, morning loves.” You note the file that she passes to Spencer—the only one on the team who doesn’t use an iPad—and your hopes of having a paperwork day dwindle down.

“Another case?” Spencer sighs as he opens the file, and you get a glimpse of dead bodies and crime scenes.

“Unfortunately yes. I wish serial killers would take a break, I’m getting so lonely without you guys here.” Penelope pouts.

“We can go out when we get back.” You promise her, knowing how much she loves going out for drinks. She immediately perks up and a smile forms on her face.

“I love you. Now enough flirting, it’s time for the briefing.” She walks away, leaving you and Spencer in an awkward silence with Penelope’s comment. You decide to walk away first while taking a sip of your coffee, and you hear Spencer trailing right behind you.

“This conversation-“ Spencer starts, but you interrupt him before he can finish.

“-Isn’t over. Yeah, I know.” You sigh, walking into the round table room and sitting at your usual seat with Spencer beside you.

You immediately start to feel bad about your attitude towards Spencer, but staying up all night and running on caffeine puts you on edge. Before you can apologize to him though, Penelope starts talking about the new case.

During the briefing, you don’t talk at all. You aren’t even really paying attention. Your guilt becomes too much, so you start to bounce your leg up and down. Of course Spencer notices, and he knows you feel bad. You never act like this, and Spencer knows it’s just the case from last week getting to you.

He reaches over, putting one of his hands above your knee to keep it from bouncing. You look at him hoping to mouth an apology, but he keeps his eyes on his file. So you take one of your hands, bringing it down to trace an “I’m sorry” with your finger on the back of his hand. He squeezes your leg, assuring you that it’s okay.

You still need to give him an actual apology, you know that. But the makeshift apology eases you a little bit, especially since Spencer now knows that you didn’t mean to act that rude.

“Wheels up in thirty.” Prentiss says and everyone starts to file out of the room. You and Spencer stand up, but neither of you leave the room, not needing to tell each other anything to know you need to talk.

“I’m sorry.” You blurt when everyone is out, and Spencer gives you a small smile.

“I know. I just wish you’d talk to me instead of avoiding me.” He puts his hands on your shoulders, pulling you in for a hug. You breathe in his scent, one that you’ve quite frankly missed. He eventually pulls away and leaves his hands on your arms, keeping you close. 

He studies your face with his eyebrows furrowed, and lifts his hands to cup your cheeks. “You really haven’t been sleeping well.” He refers back to the conversation from earlier and you become confused as to what made him say this, but not for long. “The bags under your eyes are worse than normal.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. Of course you’d noticed that they’d become worse. You look at yourself everyday, but you didn’t think it was that noticeable to where other people could see the change. Spencer, however, is not ‘other people’.

“So are yours.” He shrugs his shoulders, making it not seem like a big deal even though you both know it is. He’s not sleeping because you’re not next to him. 

“Why are you avoiding me? You know it’s important to talk about cases if they’re getting to you. And if you don’t want to talk to me, then you can talk to Emily.” He says softly and you shake your head, changing your gaze to his chest while crossing your arms.

“I know. I just- my thoughts have been too much and I didn’t want to keep you awake with me. You don’t sleep well as it is and you’re very stubborn, so I know you would’ve stayed up to help me.”

“Because I love you and I don’t want you to suffer. I hate when you close yourself off and don’t let anyone help you.” He slides his hands back down to your arms to uncross them, and he brings you into another hug.

You wrap your arms around his waist, relaxing into his body and taking a deep breath. “I love you too. And I’ll be more open with you, I promise. I just want to get through this new case first.” You mumble and you feel him nod. He pulls away a little bit to give you a kiss, and you realize you almost forgot what his lips felt like against yours.

When he backs up away from you to leave the room, you grab his hand to stop him, noticing something out of the corner of your eye. “I’m pretty sure the team just saw all of that.” Spencer looks over to the window, so you do too and sure enough the team is standing in the bullpen, looking at you and Spencer.

When they notice you and Spencer looking at them, they all start to disperse except for Luke. He puts up his hands to form a heart as a playful gesture, and Penelope walks over to push him away from the window, Luke now laughing.

You let out a small giggle at the act before you walk out of the round table room with Spencer following you. You both grab your go bags from under your desk, making sure you have everything before making your way to the jet.

The two of you are the last ones to board and you don’t have to look up to know that everyone is looking, especially after what they saw.

Once the plane takes off, the team gathers around the big table to talk more about the case. You pitch in more than you did in the round table room, being able to focus more now that you and Spencer are better, although you’re still a little hazy from the lack of sleep. 

When Prentiss gives everyone their jobs for when you land, you and Spencer decide to take over the couch. He sits towards the end which confuses you, since you both usually sit in the middle while you read a book and Spencer reads over your shoulder.

You’ve told him multiple times that he should read his own book—god knows how many he has— because you read at a much slower pace than him. He turns you down every time, claiming that he gets ‘to analyze the book better’ by reading at your pace.

“You can lay down.” Spencer interrupts your thoughts and he’s staring up at you while you just stand there. He pats the seat beside him, so you sit beside him before moving to lay down with your head on his lap.

You feel him move around a bit, and you’re about to ask him what he’s doing but then you feel something light being put on top of your upper body. Realizing it’s his cardigan, you smile and let yourself relax a bit more as one of his hands rests on your head, running through your hair, and the other rests on your waist.

//

When you wake up, you sit up quickly before remembering where you are. Spencer’s cardigan falls off your side so you grab it to give it back to him but when you look over, you see him sleeping.

He’s still sitting up right, hands in his lap now that you moved away from him. Smiling at the sight, you decide to let him sleep until the jet lands. You’re glad he was able to fall asleep because he hasn’t been sleeping well either, although that position doesn’t seem too comfortable.

You put his cardigan on his torso, hooking the top over his shoulders so it doesn’t fall down. You stay next to him and he unconsciously leans his body towards you, resting his head on your shoulder.

Taking the time to finally look around the jet, you notice nobody is paying attention to you except for Luke. When you make eye contact with him, he holds his hands up and makes a heart just like he did in the bullpen. You smile at him, giving him the middle finger just as Spencer wakes up.

“Who are you flipping off?” He mumbles sleepily, his head still on your shoulder. You bring your arm back down, letting out a small laugh.

“Luke, he made a heart with his hands again.” Spencer hums, and lifts his arm up to give Luke the middle finger like you did, which makes you laugh again.

[puccbunni]

“Friends” Pt.3

|Auston Matthews | Maple Leafs |

{ Ruin The Friendship - Demi Lovato }

Soo I decided to make “FRIENDS” into a series! So I kinda split the last chapter in two so this picks up from the same night, which happens to be in mid January.

Also the time line is set during the 2019/20 season because that’s when I started writing it (I know it has taken me forever to decide to make this a series!!!) because of this there are relationships in the series that have since ended (ie Kappy and Paige) that I have chosen to keep for the time being. Also COVID isn’t a thing in this story it just didn’t work with the timeline I have planned out.

If you have any questions about the series ask away, 

If you haven’t read parts 1 or part 2 go check them out cutiepies xoxo

Same old warnings

Swearing

Smut

Enjoy xx

When the Uber pulled up outside of Austons building you couldn’t bring yourself to look at the Uber driver in the eyes as you sheepishly slid from the backseat, you mumbled a quick thank you in his direction. As he pulled away a notification dinged on Austons phone.

“Well there goes my rating.” He laughs as he shows you the one star the driver had given the pair of you. You both start laughing as you walk into the building side by side. You cross your arms against your chest so they weren’t swinging awkwardly by your side and so Auston wouldn’t feel obligated to hold your hand, cause you had decided that that ventured too far outside of the friend zone.

The elevator ride was quiet as an old women had decided to jump in with you, which after your little stunt in the Uber seemed to probably be a good thing as you were pretty sure the two of you had done enough indecent things in public for one night. As you reach Austons floor the doors open and he fishes his keys out of his pockets and unlocks and holds the door open for you.

“Do you want a drink or anything?” Auston asks kicking his shoes off by the door.

“Yeah actually water would be great.” You say removing your jacket and shoes.

You follow Auston into his kitchen and actually take in his condo in for the first time, considering the last time you were here you were a little more preoccupied with getting to the bedroom. The kitchen, living and dining are all open into one large space with most of the furniture facing towards the floor to ceiling windows with a view of the beautiful Toronto city skyline that lights up his condo enough that Auston hasn’t needed to turn on a light yet.

“Great view.” You say as Auston hands you a glass of water, you take it from him placing your bag on the counter of the island in the middle of the kitchen.

You take a long sip from the glass.

“Soo.” You say placing the glass down next to your bag.

“Soo.” Auston repeats leaning against the bench top opposite you.

“Maybe we should set some ground rules, you know so we are on the same page.” You suggest.

“You really gonna be taking the fun out of this aren’t you.” Auston laughs.

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes at him. “look we probably don’t need them but at least this way we won’t get confused and we know where we stand, okay?”

“Okay, what rules do you have in mind?” He says pushing of the bench and closing the gap between you resting his hands on your hips.

“No feelings, just sex.” You say.

“I agree, next one.” He says slowly lifting your dress up your thighs and placing a kiss on your sweet spot.

“That’s means no snuggling and no staying.” Your dress inching closer and closer to your core.

“Okay but you don’t have to just leave straight away.” Your brows frown together as your dress is pulled up over your ass.

You grab his hands to stop them from bunching your dress any higher.

“You want me to stay after?”

“Why not friends have sleepovers.” Auston says.

“Well I don’t particularly want to stay after sex, I think that’s kinda... I don’t know.. like intimate.” You shrug

“So let me get this straight, sex we can do but sleeping next to each other in the same bed that’s too intimate?” Auston asks raising an eyebrow.

“It’s different okay.” You roll your eyes.

“You really don’t want to stay?” He asks pushing you slowly back into the counter. You shake your head.

“Fine, I’ll agree.”

“Thank you.” You sigh letting go of his hands and Auston starts lifting your dress again.

“Protection?” He asks he hands pulling the dress up to the small of your waist.

“I am on birth control, but we should use condoms too, I mean we aren’t exclusive.” You shrug running your hands up his muscular arms, wrapping them around his neck.

“Deal, next?” He asks lifting you up onto his kitchen island.

“We stay friends, after this ends, we stay friends okay?” You ask as Auston pulls your dress completely off. He looks you in the eyes and you see nothing but sincerity.

“Of course Y/N.” He leans in resting his hands on either side of you on the counter, his lips brushing yours gently.

“Anything you wanna add?” You ask.

“Not a rule but a question, do we want to tell people?”

“I mean I am okay with it being between you and me, are you?” You say as you lightly press your lips to his.

“Yeah I am. But what about your friend from the bar?” He asks.

“I’ll handle her.” You say.

He leans in and kisses you his hands going to the small of your back and yours tangle into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Now that’s sorted, are you going to let me fuck you?” He asks pulling way.

“Well since you asked so nicely.” You laugh as he reattaches his lips to yours.

Auston used his body to step in between your legs, you run your hands down the front of his chest to the hem of his shirt, pulling the material up over his head as you break the kiss. You let your hands run overs his shoulders and back to his neck bringing him back into you, your lips drop to his jaw lightly kissing the stubble as you work your way back along to his full lips. Auston brings his hands from the small of your back up to unclasp your bra and pulling the fabric down your arms and once you are free of the fabric he envelopes your breast in his large calloused hands squeezing gently as you break the kiss to moan, throwing your head back. Austons lips attack your neck as he circles one of his thumbs around your stiffened nipple before taking in between his index finger and thumb.

He flattens his palm against your chest, pushing you down against the island, the cold marble causing goosebumps to erupt all across your skin.

Austons mouth continues its assault south. Kissing down between the valley of your breast, his fingers loop into the lace covering you core and he pulls it down your legs as his lips suck and lightly bite down your torso leaving marks in their wake. Auston stands between your legs raking his eyes hungrily up and down your naked body, normally you would be trying to somewhat cover yourself up while feelings of self consciousness bubble to the surface. But under Austons gaze you felt alive and desired and you loved it.

“God. Perfect.” He growls staring at your dripping heat.

He runs two of his fingers through your folds teasing your entrance before moving just a little higher to the bundle of nerves that made your back arch when he made contact. A soft moan escaped your lips as his fingers continued there assault on your clit.

“Aus please.” You moan.

“What do you need baby.”

You needed more, although you adored the way his fingers made you feel, you had already experienced them tonight and you were a lot more interested in what else Auston had to offer.

You pushed yourself of the island grabbing hold of Austons wrist and removing his fingers from your slick heat. He raised his eyebrow at you questioning your actions but before he could ask you slide off the bench top and spun Auston around so his back was against the island. You attached your lips to his neck nipping and biting softly at the flesh under your lips before caressing the light marks you had left with your tongue as your hands fell to his belt, unbuckling it and pulling it completely out of the belt loops tossing it somewhere in the kitchen. You started to kissed a little lower down his neck to his collarbone giving it the same treatment. His hands were greedily kneading the flesh of your ass as his head lulled forward, his lips ghosting past your ear as a deep guttural groan emanated from the back of his throat as your fingers popped open the button of his jeans, unzipping them slowly adding pressure as you felt his member growing harder under your touch.

You kiss further down his chest before you’re sliding onto your knees between his legs pulling his jeans down past his knees, you take him in your hand from beneath the restraining fabric of his briefs. He takes your hair into both of his hands, creating a makeshift ponytail. You lean forward, swirling your tongue around the head of his swollen cock and he groans quietly, subconsciously pulling your head closer to him. You stroke him slowly, licking his tip teasingly his thighs are flexing underneath your finger as the hand that isn’t wrapped around him runs up and down the muscles slowly and he begins to grow more frustrated the longer you continue, so you look up at him and take him into your mouth all the way. He maintains eye contact with you, gently pushing your head down a little further.

“Fuck,” He moans when you swallow around him. You start to bob your head up and down, dropping your other hand down to his thigh nails digging into his tan skin as you allow him to take control with his hand in your hair. You gag a few times still adjusting to his size when he hits the back of your throat, but it’s nothing you can’t take so you try to go deeper. Your nose brushes against his pubic bone for just a second, his hand still pressing against your head until you gag a little louder and he pulls you off of him slightly, with your lips still wrapped around him you still haven’t broken eye contact with him.

“God you have no idea how hot you look right now.” He says through labored breaths.

You giggle around him, you bob your head faster, the room filling with the filthy sound of your lips around him slurping and gagging as he pushes further down your throat. Suddenly his fist clench at the root of your scalp pulling you off of him completely. His fingers untangle from your hair and slide around to the front of your neck squeezing slightly as he uses his grip to help you back up to your feet.

“I need to be inside of you.” He growls pulling your face to his and as your lips meet its full of lust and hunger.

You pull away and reach behind Auston for your bag on the island, you feel his palm caress over your bare ass before he pulls back and spanks you harshly your hips thrusting forward into the bench top. You unzip your bag and unceremoniously empty out the entire contents across the bench in search of the small foil packet you so desperately needed. Finding it you hand it back to Auston with your back still to him, hoping that he would understand.

“Planning on get some tonight huh.” Auston teases ripping the foil open with his teeth.

“Mmmhmm but I had to settle for you.” You laughed.

“Is that so.”

Before you could even respond he had slammed into you from behind, a breathy scream falling from your lips as your hips rutted forward from the impact into the bench and you knew you were going to have bruises there in the morning. Auston stilled behind you for a moment spreading your legs further open with his foot as his hands found home on your hips, he pulled back until only his tip remained before using his grip on your hips to guide you back along his member. You moaned at how full he made you feel, he set a hard and steady pace with his tip grazing your g spot every time he thrust in. Your hands were struggling to find something to hold onto as your arms were to short to reach any of the other sides of the island, Auston noticed this and harshly grabbed your arms and pulled them behind your back, holding your two wrist in one of his large hands as the other snaked around to your clit rubbing harsh circles.

“Aus fuck, please.” You gasped out in pleasure as your orgasm began to build.

“You close baby.” He groaned rubbing faster on your clit. “I can feel how close you are.”

Your legs were shaking as you were so close to your high.

“Cum for me baby.” Austons thrust we’re growing sloppy and you knew that neither of you were going to last much longer.

“Cum on my fucking cock.”

You were ashamed to admit that that was all it took for you to completely unravel around him, Auston fucked you through your high and a few sloppy thrust later he emptied into the condom inside of you.

[the-bau-quinjet]

With you, he wants it all.

Part 2!! You can find all the info about why this is such a mess in Part 1! Also, I totally meant to post this earlier but Taylor Swift’s new album wrecked my plans. 

Summary: Reader is a famous singer with a murderous stalker. Spencer has to go undercover to protect her. 

warnings: mentions of murder, anxious reader, stalker

Word Count: 9972

The next time you wake up, the room is significantly brighter. You feel around in the cold bed, realizing Spencer isn’t there anymore. You have to force yourself to open your eyes to combat the overwhelming urge to roll over and sleep for another twelve hours. The clock reads 12:07. You can’t help but think you deserve more sleep as you force yourself into a sitting position. Once you finally sit up, you hear someone shuffling around, whispering in the other room. It’s too quiet to try to make out the voice, but you definitely heard something. Without too much thought, you quickly jump out of bed, grabbing the only thing you can find that even remotely resembles a weapon- the bible from the hotel drawer.

Slowly, you push the door open, getting ready to make a break for the door to the hallway at the first sign of danger. Remembering everything from yesterday has you on edge as you move toward the kitchen area, looking for anything out of place. You duck around the pillar separating the kitchen from the living room only to find it empty. As you finally let your guard down, you feel a hand on your shoulder. Without thinking, you turn around getting ready to slam the book into whoever is touching you.

 Spencer catches your arms before you hit him. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. It’s just me. You’re safe.” You breathe out a sigh of relief, dropping the book and hugging Spencer.

 “I’m sorry! I just heard a noise and you weren’t in bed anymore and I wasn’t sure where you went and I wanted to make sure nobody else was in the room, but I-“

 “It’s okay. Just breathe.” Spencer is rubbing soothing circles on your back as you cling to him as if your life depends on it. A few minutes pass, before you calm down enough to pull out of the hug. You run a shaky hand through your hair, moving to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee.

 “I put the coffee on so you can grab some when it’s done. I’m going to get dressed so we can figure out where we want to go for inspiration today!” You wink at Spencer before heading back into the bedroom to shower and change. You throw on a pair of jeans and a light sweater after squeezing the extra water out of your hair. You like to let it dry naturally on days like this.

 You make your way back into the kitchen only to find Spencer has already changed into a navy and white plaid button down, khakis, and a navy cardigan. He is sitting at the table drinking his coffee when you enter the room. You immediately put the kettle on, reaching into the cabinet to pull out your tea collection.

 “No coffee for you?” Spencer asks, gesturing to the half full pot on the counter.

 “Oh, nope. Not for me. It’s only palatable if I add way to much sugar and then I get all antsy. I only have coffee if I have a really good reason to stay up.” You chuckle as you add the teabag to the mug you set on the counter. You sit on the counter, swinging your legs as you sip your tea.

 “So, where do you want to go?”

 “For what?” Spencer pretends to not know what you’re talking about.

 “It’s time to start writing silly!” You grin at his deer in a headlights expression. “Spencer, I told you not to worry. We are just looking for general ideas right now. Anything that could potentially lead to a song. It’s more fun to observe others during this part of the process because the ideas are less specific.”

 “I don’t even know where to start!” He actually seems nervous about this.

 “Spence, let’s just go to your favorite coffee shop. And don’t tell me that you don’t have one. You’ve already drunk half that pot of coffee.”

 “Why my favorite?” He actually looks taken aback at the suggestion.

 “Well, for one because I’m not from here, so I don’t know where to go.” You try to backpedal, but you’ve started a list. Something he is all too eager to point out. “And two?” He’s got his brows furrowed, a look of pure confusion adorning his face.

 “If it’s your favorite, then you’ve been there before.” You say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Well yes, but your point?” The confusion is still present, but his words are laced with exasperation.

“You might just be comfortable enough in your surroundings to suggest a song idea.” You shrug as you say it, trying to make it feel more casual.

 “You considered whether or not I would be comfortable?” He seems genuinely surprised now.

 “Of course. I want you to help me, so I gotta butter you up.” You try to cover up your blush with a joke.

 “Thank you.” HIs words seem surprised, but the two of you move on. Spencer grabs his satchel, and you your jacket, as the two of you exit the hotel to head to the café. You opt for walking since the weather is not too hot. You don’t say much during the walk. After the moment in the kitchen, you feel a bit nervous. A few fans stop you along the way for a picture or an autograph, but mostly you just enjoy each other’s company. Nobody pays much attention to Spencer, rather opting to ignore him to get your attention. Every time someone comes up to you; you make a point to say excuse me or smile at him before addressing the fans though. You just don’t want him to feel left out or like he’s not important.

 You finally make it to the café. Spencer opens the door before guiding you in, again placing his hand on your back. You thank him as you make your way up to the counter to order. You order a chai latte for yourself, gesturing for Spencer to order his when the barista asks you if you need anything else. You make sure to add two scones to the order before sliding your card into the machine before Spencer has a chance.

 “It’s my fault you’re here with me, so please. My treat.” He shakes his head slightly, a small smile forming on his face.

 “How many times do I have to tell you, none of this is your fault?” He gives you a look as you two move to find a table after accepting the scones.

 “I know.” You don’t sound sure as you take your seat. He doubles down the staring as you continue. “I promise. I know. It was just a joke.” You sound more sure of yourself that time, earning another smile from Spencer.

 The barista brings you your drinks as you settle into the corner booth. You set your phone up on the table, pulling up the recording from yesterday. You pass Spencer your headphones from your purse so he can listen to what you’ve already come up with.

 You take this time to really study him. The sun’s rays are streaming in through the blinds on the window, causing slight shadows to drift across his features. You take in the sharp lines of his jaw as he turns to look around the café, listening to the various melodies and lyrics you sang for the team. His brown locks appear golden as the sunlight reflect off the highlights. He’s sporting a slight stubble from not shaving for a few days. His hazel eyes drift across the faces of everyone in the room, not settling for long on any one person.

 You shift your attention to his hands. He has one draped across the table, lightly tapping along as he listens. His long fingers are mesmerizing. You begin to recognize he is tapping out the melodies as if he were playing the piano. The other hand is wrapped around his coffee cup. You bite your lip as you think about all the things those hands are capable of. Your mind wonders as you stare. You are staring so intently at the way his hand grips the cup, you don’t notice when he removes the headphones.

 Spencer clears his throat to catch your attention. “That was incredible. How do you come up with ideas so fast?” He looks like he knows exactly what you were thinking, but is too kind to bring it up. He’s just doing his job, and this isn’t a date. 

 “Oh, um thanks. I guess the BAU is just full of inspiration. The song writing process is a little different every time, but sometimes I can think of random lyrics and melodies.” You try to smile as you force yourself to focus. “Think back to a time where you felt an emotion really strongly. It can be whatever emotion you want. Then, try to put it into words. I like to use common phrases or metaphors because it can be fun to twist it into something new.” You close your eyes as you think back to how you felt the moment you understood there was a man out there killing people because he is obsessed with you. Maybe it’s a little too soon to write that one out. The idea does give you another way to explain it to Spencer. “It’s kind of like therapy. You can talk out your feelings and share them with people. It’s just a bit more public.” Spencer looks like he’s contemplating his entire life as you sit in this coffee shop.

 “Spence,” you say it lightly to draw him out of his own thoughts, “don’t worry about it. You don’t have to share anything you don’t want to. I just wanted to get the ball rolling. Why don’t we try something else?” He looks grateful as he nods. “Great. Pick out someone in the coffee shop, preferably part of a group.” He looks around before his eyes settle on someone.

 “Okay, now tell me what they’re thinking about.” He looks confused, like a lost puppy. “It’s called people watching. Just make up a story about what they might be doing here.”

 You and Spencer discuss ideas for the next few hours. He picked out a young man, maybe about 19 years old. He was clearly here with friends trying to catch a break from studying if the backpacks on the floor were any hint. Spencer noticed all of that immediately of course, being that he is a profiler.

 His story sounded just like the profile Hotch told you yesterday, although much less horrifying.

 “White male, late teens to early twenties. He is likely a STEM major. This is the first time he has let loose in a while, normally choosing to forego the party life for studying. He likely has immense pressure on him from his family to succeed and do well in school.” You nod along, not having any idea where this information is really coming from. He sounds so confident, you can’t help but ask how he knows all that.

 “You’re incredible. How did you figure all that out?” You stare in wonder at the man across from you. He doesn’t meet your eye, but responds nonetheless.

 “His age is fairly obvious to observe. His bag is fuller than the others, indicating a major that requires more coursework. He keeps checking his watch, almost as if he knows he is wasting time that could be spent working toward a goal. The family pressure can be inferred by the other behavior. It is more likely a young adult is studious due to a strict upbringing with a focus on work ethic and goal-driven activities.”

 “Amazing.” You sigh as you look around the room. “My turn.” You point to a couple sitting a few tables away from you. “Those two are exploring the possibility of taking their relationship past that of friendship. They obviously like each other and are too nervous to say anything.” Almost as if to prove you aren’t a profiler, the two lean across the table for a kiss. You laugh it off, knowing it’s just a game for you.

 “Or maybe not. Either way, their song would be about new love. Something slow and pretty.” You smile as you turn back to Spencer. “Your turn again!”

 The two of you go back and forth a few times. His stories were really just profiles, but after a few tries he leaned into the fun, game-like nature of people watching. Of course, his last story didn’t stray too far from profiling, but it was much more dreamlike in the way he presented it.

 “The woman sitting by the window,” he said, subtly pointing to an older woman at a table alone, “she’s waiting to see her grandkids for the first time in years. Of course, she’s excited to see them again, but she’s nervous. What if they don’t like her? What if she can’t patch things up with her… I’m guessing daughter?” You smile brightly at the story. Family moments were usually the most inspiring for generic song ideas.

 “Good job, Spence! What would the song be about?” The question clearly caught him off guard. For the past few stories, you asked how he came to those conclusions. It was so fascinating to hear how his mind works. This time though, you thought he could really be on to something. You give him an encouraging nod, as you set your phone up to record again.

 “It could be about- about family.” He states it so firmly; you know he wants to say more. “She is sitting there thinking about the memories she has with her own parents and grandparents, so the song could be a reflection on days spent enjoying their company. Maybe future memories they can make together.” He smiles, albeit shyly.

 “That is a really good idea! It fits with the vibe of the lyrics I came up with for Rossi.” You see the moment it clicks in his head. I don’t know why all the trees change in the fall, but I know you’re not scared of anything at all. Don’t know if Snow White’s house is near or far away, but I know I had the best day with you today.

 He actually seems pleased with himself now. “We could work on that one tomorrow. We should get up and walk around though, we’ve been sitting here for hours.” You reach for his hand as you scoot out of the booth, pulling him along with you.

 You stuff your hands in the pockets of your windbreaker as you head outside. You feel an overwhelming desire to be close to him, but you don’t want to overstep. The early evening crowd is out and about, bumping into the two of you as you walk back to the hotel at a leisurely pace.

 “Why don’t we go order some room service and just hang out for the rest of the night? All that people watching was exhausting.” You turn to grin up at him as you continue walking. He hums in response, looking down at you in return. You swear you can feel the mood shifting, but the moment is broken by a tap on your arm. You turn to examine the source of the interruption only to find a little girl who couldn’t be more than 10 years old.

 “Hi there!” You squeeze Spencer’s arm before ducking down to talk to the little girl. “Are you parents here?” She nods turning to look at a couple a few feet behind her, slightly out of breath, as if they just chased her down the street.

 “Carly! Honey, you can’t run off like that! You could have gotten hurt!” The man scolds her, but is clearly relieved she didn’t get away from them.

 “Sorry daddy! I just wanted to say hi to Miss Y/N! She sings my favorite song ever!” You wave at the parents before turning your attention back to the little girl.

 “Hi Carly, it’s nice to meet you! You really do need to be careful though. You should always stick with the adults so you don’t get lost.” Your voice is playful, but your expression is serious. The only way to truly convey that message to a child you have no parental claim to. She nods in response.

 “Mommy! Take a picture!” You pose with the girl as her mom takes a picture.

 “We’re so sorry for interrupting your date! She just saw you and took off down the sidewalk.” You blush at what the woman is implying about you and Spencer, not daring to look at him.

 “No worries at all. I’m always happy to meet a fan. Have a good night!” You wave goodbye, linking your arm with Spencer’s as you start to walk. He gives you a curious look, but you just laugh before joking “What? It’s so I don’t get lost.” He chuckles at your childlike behavior, but shifts so you can hold him closer.

 The rest of the walk is peaceful. You don’t see any more fans, which is good because you aren’t paying enough attention to anything at the moment. You keep picturing the look on Spencer’s face right before the little girl interrupted you. What was about to happen?

 Before you know it, you and Spencer are back in the room. He steps into the kitchen to call Hotch while you call to order dinner. You change into the FBI sweatshirt from yesterday and a pair of sleep shorts before settling on the couch to wait for Spencer. A few minutes later, he joins you on the couch after he hangs up. “The team has ruled out all the performers. It’s not surprising as the unsub wouldn’t be brave enough to perform for a crowd. They are still working through the lists of vendors and crew members.”

 “Good. That’s progress. Progress is good.” You nod to yourself, trying to convince yourself everything is normal.

 “Talk to me, what’s going on inside your head?” Spencer reaches out to take your hand while you stare at the ground.

 “I don’t know. I guess it’s just hard. It’s hard to have such an amazing day and then think about how it only happened because people are being killed. I guess I feel guilty.” You keep going before he can interrupt you. “I know it’s not my fault that this guy is out there doing horrible things, but I still feel bad for enjoying myself while it’s happening.” You don’t have any tears left to cry. You look over to Spencer to find him staring back at you.

 “Y/N, you are such a selfless person. There isn’t anything else you can do right now. We haven’t had any more victims, likely because nobody has posted about how excited they are for your shows since we still have 13 days before the next one. We are going to catch this guy.” You form your mouth into a soft smile before nodding at him. “What movie do you want to watch?”

 You smile at his attempt to distract you. “You pick. Anything that will take my mind off things, but not require too much thinking.”

 Spencer is racking his brain for a movie that fits your description when you hear a knock on the door. “Must be the food, I’ll get it.” When you return with the food, you find Spencer still thinking over movie choices.

 “Okay, how about this. What do you like to watch when you really need a pick me up?”

 Again he looks surprised that you would take his opinion into account. “Um, usually Doctor Who, but that’s not a movie it’s a-”

 “TV show. Right. Is that the one where they fly around in a telephone booth?”

 “First of all, it's a police box, not a phone booth. Second of all, Doctor Who started a quarter of century before Bill and Ted even went on their bodacious adventures. So really, they should just call it Bill and Ted's excellent rip-off, I mean at least then...”

You listen as he rambles about why people always think it’s a telephone booth. You can’t help but smile at how cute he is when he’s talking about something he’s passionate about. You don’t realize he asked you a question until he clears his throat with a confused expression.

 “Sorry, I was rambling again.” He looks dejected, and you would do anything in the world to make him smile again.

 “No, I’m sorry!” You scoot closer to him to convey your point. “I was listening at first I promise. It’s just, you looked so happy I got distracted. Let’s watch Doctor Who.” You turn to face the TV before you say anything else that makes you feel like a complete moron. He sorts through the food as you find the show online, setting it up to play on the TV. There’s random free episodes on demand, so you end up staring with the 11th doctor.

 You are completely captivated by the show. Every so often, Spencer would comment on a theory about what one specific prop could mean only to have you cover your ears and warn him about spoilers. During an episode about creepy angel statues, he goes on a tangent about how Amy could have avoided the whole situation. Once he starts mentioning characters you haven’t met, you actually have to reach your hand up to cover his mouth to get him to stop talking. His words putter to a stop, eyes widening in shock as he stares at you.

 “Spence, I absolutely love how passionate you are about Doctor Who. But it doesn’t matter how adorable it is when you ramble on about something. If you spoil one more thing before I can actually watch the whole show through, I will not hesitate to smack you.” You stare right in his eyes the entire time, watching as they widen with each word. You had to get a lot closer to him to actually reach his mouth. He had moved forward, animatedly waving his arms around as he talked about various plot points, so you were basically sitting on his lap to avoid being smacked in the face.

 You drop your arm from his face slowly, as if any sudden movement would break the spell you were under. You lean forward, connecting your forehead to his. You take a steadying breath as you close your eyes. Your about to close the gap when his phone rings. Again, the moment is lost. You only move enough so that he can reach into his pocket for his phone. As he answers the call, you shift in his lap to cuddle into his chest.

 “Morgan, what do you need?” Maybe you’re imaging it, but he almost sounds the slightest bit annoyed. You can just make out what Morgan is saying on the other end of the phone.

 “Calm down, Pretty Boy. We might have a lead, Hotch and Emily are tracking it down now. I’ll meet you at the hotel in the morning to go over it all with you and Y/N.”

 “Okay, thanks for the update.” He sounds so normal now, you think you must have imagined the annoyance earlier. He hangs up the phone, tossing it next to him on the couch. He wraps his arms around you before shifting so you’re both laying down.

 “Let’s just relax and watch more Doctor Who. Morgan is stopping by in the morning to talk about the case.” You nod in agreement, turning to face the TV. A few episodes later, you and Spencer are drifting in and out of sleep. Neither one of you really wants to interrupt what you’ve got going, instead opting to just fall asleep on the couch.

 --

 You hear the faintest knocking noise that pulls you out of your slumber. It takes a few minutes for you to recognize you are on the couch, wrapped up in Spencer’s arms. He must have pulled a blanket over the two of you last night after you fell asleep. Before you can get up to evaluate the knocking, the door opens and Morgan comes rushing in. The concern on his face is quickly replaced with a knowing smirk. You blush, jealous that Spencer is somehow still asleep.

 “Hi Morgan. Sorry to alarm you. We must have fallen asleep watching TV last night.” At the sound of your voice, Spencer slowly begins to wake up. He smiles sleepily at you before realizing your attention is elsewhere. He practically throws you off the couch in his effort to sit up when he realizes Morgan is in the room.

 “Sorry!” Spencer looks at Morgan, then back to you. “I’m so sorry!” You laugh as you stand up.

 “Don’t worry about it.” You settle yourself in the chair, gesturing for Morgan to sit next to Spencer now that he isn’t sprawled across the entire sofa anymore. Turning to Morgan, you ask about the case “What did you want to talk about?”

 “We have been focused on going through the people who work for the tour. It makes the most sense for them to travel with you, otherwise it would require a lot more planning.” You can feel the nerves growing in your stomach. “Garcia found a name we wanted to run by you.” He hands you a picture before saying the name. “Ryan Moore. He works-“

 “On the instrumentals. I know. He usually runs the sound booth during the shows. I don’t know him that well, but we’ve talked a few times.” You think back over your past conversations. “It couldn’t be him.” You are 100% sure he is not the unsub, and the agents don’t fail to notice the conviction in your voice.

 “What makes you so sure?” Spencer is flipping through the case file Morgan brought with him. He doesn’t even look up when he asks the question, too focused on memorizing every detail about this man’s life.

 “Well, Hotch told me the unsub wouldn’t be able to talk to me right?” You look to Morgan for confirmation.

 “Yes. He wouldn’t approach you or seem confident when talking with you if you approached him.” Morgan confirms what you’re thinking.

 “Great. So it can’t be him.” You smile to yourself for actually contributing to the case. “Last week, right after the Columbus show, he asked me out. The unsub wouldn’t be brave enough, right?” The utter joy in your voice startles Spencer enough that he finally looks up from the file.

“Alright then. He’s likely not the unsub, but we’ll finish the investigation into him just in case.” Morgan settles back into the chair he’s sitting in, making no move to leave even though the conversation is clearly over. There is an obvious smirk on his face as he looks at Spencer.

 “Well, I’m going to make some breakfast, feel free to watch TV or something.” You smile awkwardly at the two men, unsure of why there is suddenly a strange tension in the air. As you move into the kitchen, you connect your phone to your Bluetooth speaker. Listening to music while you cook has always been calming for you. You honestly prefer baking, but eggs and sausage with toast sounds perfect right now. You pull out the ingredients, humming softly as you dance around the kitchen. You can just barely hear that Morgan and Spencer are talking in the other room, but not enough to make out what they are saying. It just sounds a bit more intense the conversation you just had.

 You choose to ignore it and give them their privacy instead focusing on cooking. You end up making scrambled eggs the way your mom taught you, by mixing in some chive and onion cream cheese. You pop some English muffins in the oven under the broiler while you place the eggs and sausages in dishes. After turning the music down, you move all the food to the table. You’re about to invite Spencer and Morgan to have some food when you hear their conversation.

 “I’m telling you man. She likes you. You should go for it.” Morgan is clearly trying to encourage Spencer, but he won’t hear it.

 “Morgan, it’s not like that. It’s probably just transference because I’m here to make sure she doesn’t get hurt. Plus, you saw the smile on her face when she talked about Ryan asking her out. She was beaming.” He sighs, almost wistfully as you consider what he’s saying. Surely you are capable of separating your feelings for him from the situation. Would you like him if you had just run into him on the street? Plus, what does Ryan have to do with this?

 You move back to the stove to remove the English muffins before they burn, putting them on a plate as well. Ultimately, you decide to try to straighten out your feelings for Spencer before making a move. You want to be sure. If there is even a shred of doubt in your mind, Spencer will surely be able to see it on your face. Stupid profilers.

 Their conversation died down while you were dealing with the muffins, so you walk back to the other side of the room. You mumble out “I made food, you’re both welcome to have some” before returning to the table. You have a lot to think about and the last thing you want to do is lead Spencer on if you aren’t sure. He deserves better than that.

 The conversation over breakfast is nice. Nothing too heavy or serious. The three of you are just talking about your lives. Morgan asks you what it’s like to be famous. You ask him and Spencer what it’s like to be in the FBI. You realize just how different your career paths are. The only thing you can relate to is travelling. Neither Spencer nor Morgan have family in the area, but they mention how hard it is for Hotch and JJ.

 “That I can understand. The travelling, I mean. Of course, I travel to perform, not to track down killers.” The room is quiet for a few minutes as you think about what to say. Morgan and Reid being profilers know you haven’t finished your thought, so they give you the time to think it over.

 “Thank you.” You say it softly, but firmly at the same time. This is the first time you’ve seen either of them look surprised.

 “Wh- for what?” It’s Morgan who speaks up. Spencer has a familiar expression on his face. It’s the same look he got when you asked his opinion for coffee shops and movies.

 “For everything. For protecting me. For catching bad guys. For giving up so much to do this job. You two, and the rest of your team, you all sacrifice so much to keep people safe. I mean, I’m sure the people you save and the families you give closure to are grateful, and you deserve that. But, you also deserve to have everyone be thankful for what you do. You get into the minds of these people. It must be exhausting to have to think like that all the time. I’m barely dealing with it now and it’s only be on my mind for 2 days! I just can’t even fathom the number of people you have saved, people that you’ve never even met, by doing this. So, thank you. For being strong enough to do it. For being you.”

 You spoke every word with every ounce of sincerity you could muster up. You were looking between them as you said it. The shock on Morgan’s face slowly morphed into a small smile. Spencer’s expression didn’t change, but somehow looked more sincere when you were done.

 Neither one of them knew what to say. Morgan rose from his chair to pull you into a hug. Patting you on the back, he uttered a soft thank you before saying he should get back to the office to help the rest of the team. You locked the door behind him, turning to see Spencer staring at you from the table.

 “Spence? Are you okay?” You were nervous that your impromptu speech made him uncomfortable. He rose from the table, slowly making his way across the room to you.

 “I’m, I, I just… that was… thank you. You amaze me.” He barely says the words, practically breathing them into existence. You reach for his hand, squeezing it.

 “I meant every single word. Promise.” There is nothing more you want to do than kiss him right now, but all you can hear in your head is Spencer talking about transference. You hug him quickly before pulling back again. Without some distance between the two of you, you won’t be able to control yourself. “Do you want to go to another café today? Or somewhere with a piano so I can finally see you play?”

 “We can do what you want today. You let me pick the café and the show yesterday, so it’s only fair.”  You grin, knowing exactly where you want to take him.

 The two of you get ready in near silence after that. Both of you want to calm down a bit before spending another day together. After you’ve both showered and changed, you drag Spencer down to the SUV. The weather outside is perfect for where you want to go, but the park is just far enough away that you want to drive. You pull up directions on your phone, hiding the address from him. Spencer protests the entire time. He keeps mumbling about how he would know how to get there if you just told him where you were going. Then something about how mobile phones are a distraction, so it would be safer for him to drive anyway.

 You just let him ramble on about the many DC streets. Your grip on the wheel tightens when he starts listing off statistics about car accidents.

 “More than 38,000 people die every year in crashes on U.S. roadways. The U.S. traffic fatality rate is actually 12.4 deaths per 100,000 inhabitants. An additional 4.4 million are injured seriously enough to require medical attention. Road crashes are the leading cause of death in the U.S. for people aged 1-54.” With every passing word, your knuckles get whiter, your heartbeat gets faster, and your breaths get shorter. Spencer is too caught up in reciting the statistics to realize anything is wrong until he turns to look at you, his next sentence dying on his tongue. “Seatbelts reduce the risk of dying by…” His brow furrows as he takes in your appearance.

 “By what Spence? Don’t leave me hanging?” You try to joke with him to calm yourself down, but he obviously sees right through it.

 “45%.” He continues before you can even comprehend the number. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

 “Nothing. I’m totally fine. 100% A-Okay.” You try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down. Having arrived at your destination, you pull into a parking spot.

 “Y/N, talk to me. What is it?” You take a steadying breath as you turn to face him. Honestly, you are embarrassed more than anything else. You were the one who decided you had to drive.

 “Spence, really it’s not a big deal. I just get nervous driving sometimes. I don’t have to do it a lot, and I’ve never felt like I was particularly good at it. It doesn’t matter though, we’re here.” You move to get out of the car, but Spencer reaches across the car to stop you. His face is only inches from yours as the realization dawns on him.

 “And I was rambling on about how dangerous driving is.” He says it more to himself than to you. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you stop me? I really need to learn how to shut up. I just get so caught up in the statistics-“ “Spencer. I love when you ramble. I’ve already told you how calming it is… normally. I’m fine, I promise. You just have to drive us back to the hotel later. Deal?”

 “Deal.” You’re both smiling as you get out of the car to walk around the park you brought him to. He doesn’t ask why you picked this place and you don’t offer up a reason. He’ll figure it out soon enough. You talk about random things from childhood as you lazily stroll through the trees. There’s something so calming about wandering through so many trees when you know you’re in the middle of a bustling city.

 Before long, the two of you have crossed the park. A few feet away stands an upright piano in front of a park bench. You glance at Spencer as he looks at the piano, realization gracing his features as he discovers why you chose this particular park. You beckon for him to sit down next to you, asking him to play you a song.

 He blushes as you whisper pretty please in his ear. The cherry on top does him in. Soon enough, you are hearing the beginning notes of Bach’s Prelude in C. You just sit and listen, watching his fingers gracefully move above the keys. He’s not the most passionate of piano players. You can practically see the gears turning in his brain as he moves his hands efficiently across the instrument, as if he really is thinking about the math behind it all. Still, you lose yourself in the music, swaying lightly. You find yourself leaning on his shoulder, closing your eyes as you think about everything you’ve been feeling.

 You studied music for a few years when you were young. That’s how you started writing, with lessons to learn to play both the guitar and the piano. You took to the guitar more than the piano, but you remember learning about the emotion behind every classical piece you were taught to play. You can’t help but think back to those lessons as you listen to Spencer. This song is always reaching forward, yearning for the next note. It plays into the idea that life is simple and pure. Even good at times. But there is something lurking just below the surface. It’s weirdly fitting of your current situation, but you choose to just be glad he chose the major over the minor.

 You feel the breeze in your hair as Spencer finishes the song. For a few moments, the two of you sit listening to the leaves rustling in the wind. Eventually, you look around the park once it is quiet again. It’s mostly empty given that it’s 2 pm on a Tuesday, so there aren’t many people around to witness this moment. You slip your phone on the piano to record before you take over, playing that all too familiar melody that reminds you of Spencer. Neither of you say anything as you let the music and your emotions guide you through the song. You can tell it’s not perfect, but it just feels right.

 After that, you and Spencer brainstorm lyrics for Rossi’s song for another few hours. The park begins to fill up as school lets out and the workday ends. A few fans recognize you, asking for pictures. After a particularly strong gust of wind, Spencer drapes his cardigan over you as you walk back toward the car, both of you blissfully unaware of the figure watching you from behind the trees.

 --

  The next few days pass in much the same fashion. Spencer takes calls about the case, trying to narrow down the massive list of crew members on your tour. You and he work on lyrics for Rossi’s song, as well as JJ’s. She’s just so pretty, the words flow right out of you. You can tell Spencer agrees. You believe him as he swears up and down that the two of them are just friends, but you can’t help teasing him just a bit.

 “Honestly, it would be weirder if you didn’t think she was pretty. The woman looks as if she were sculpted by Michelangelo himself. A living embodiment of Aphrodite.” He nods in agreement, a faint blush on his cheeks.

 --

 No matter how much you try, you just cannot come up with anymore good lyrics for Spencer’s song. It could be that he is sitting right next to you all the time and knows the song is for him that’s causing the writer’s block, but it’s still frustrating.

 One night, he’s working through the case file for the third time in a row when you interrupt his thoughts with a seemingly random question.

 “Spence, can you tell me a story?” He looks up at you, brow furrowed and eyes confused. “I just need inspiration for the lyrics. Everything I come up with sucks.” You pout until he finally gives in. “Yay! It can be anything, even a memory. Just make it overwhelmingly happy.”

 Spencer stops looking through the file as he thinks back on his life experiences for an overwhelmingly happy memory. The faces of his team members instantly flood his mind as he sorts through the many good times they’ve had. He keeps circling back to one event, ultimately deciding it is happy enough to fit your standards.

 “This is actually the story of JJ’s wedding.” You lean forward, a wedding story could be just what the doctor ordered. “Will wanted to marry her for a while, but she was hesitant. She said everything was perfect as it was, she didn’t feel the need to change anything.” You were honestly a little confused as to where the happiness was at this point, but you let him continue anyway. You could listen to this man talk for days on end without complaint.

 “We ended up working a case with Will. It was a bank robbery turned hostage situation. It was a rough case for all of us; bombs, secret partners, kids at risk. I won’t bore you with the details,” he chuckles at your thankful expression, “but it all worked out in the end. Will, he could’ve died. When JJ went to see him in the hospital, she told him to ask her again. She wanted to get married then and there in the hospital chapel. Will wanted to wait until he was actually out of the hospital though, and not wearing a hospital gown.” You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of loving someone so much, you were instantly ready to marry them.

 “Rossi, he overheard everything. So, he started planning. He called JJ’s mom, told her to fly in and to bring her wedding dress. We threw her a surprise wedding the next day. It was such a beautiful moment, to have such a joyous event after everything that we had been through. JJ looked wonderstruck as her mom walked her down the aisle. The lights were sparkling. It was enchanting.” He spoke with such awe about the whole event. He told you stories about doing magic for Henry and Jack, who you came to know as Hotch’s son. It was so easy for you to picture the fairy lights and purple flowers. The team seemed like such a close-knit family, it only made sense that they would share this memory.

 The chorus of the song hit you like a ton of bricks. You didn’t even warn Spencer as you jumped from the couch and ran to the piano. He followed behind you, curious to see what would happen. He watched with wonder as you placed your phone to record on top of the piano and started playing the family melody you first hummed while thinking about him.

 “This night is sparkling, don’t you let it go. I’m wonderstruck, blushing all the way home. I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew, I was enchanted to meet you.” The verses didn’t pour out of you in quite the same way, but the general storyline of the song came to you in the next few minutes. You rushed to get it all out, speaking directly into the phone.

 “The first verse can be about feeling out of place in a room, faking laughter, forcing smiles. Then it all changes when she sees him. It’s as if they have a conversation with only their eyes as they float across the room to each other. Then the chorus. The second verse can be about her wondering if he felt it to. 2 am who do you love? Chorus again. Then the bridge can be about hoping that the one night wasn’t it for them. That she’ll see him again and hoping he isn’t already in love or with someone.” You’re so pleased with the song idea, you don’t notice the shifting expressions on Spencer’s face. After your explanation, you turn to him, the biggest smile he’s seen yet on your face.

 “What do you think?” He’s so shocked he doesn’t know how to respond. After a moment of silence, your face begins to fall. You can’t stop your brain from thinking the worst.

 He must hate it. Oh god, he’s just trying to find a way to let me down easy. Why do I have to be so stupid? Sure, go ahead. Write a love song about the man who’s sitting next to you. That won’t be weird at all. Oh god, oh god…

 Suddenly, Spencer is pulling you into a tight hug. “It’s beautiful. It will make a wonderful song.” He’s whispering in your ear. The feeling of his lips brushing against you is too much. Everything you’ve been pushing back for the past few days comes roaring to the surface. You can’t stop yourself.

 You pull back slowly, only to pull his face to yours so rapidly you’re surprised you didn’t get whiplash. In less than an instant, his lips are moving gracefully against yours. His hands slide down your body to your waist as he pulls you even closer to him. Your arms move up around his neck, your fingers running through his hair. The hunger and passion is slowly taken over by the need for oxygen, the two of you separating just enough to pull air into your lungs.

 He kisses your forehead, and you kiss his nose. A few minutes later, and you’re still standing there with your heads pressed together, arms wrapped around each other. Every so often, one of you places a light kiss on the others mouth, just to make sure this is real.

 “I know what you’re thinking.” You are still out of breath from kissing him, but you can just tell his mind is moving a mile a minute.

 “I’m not sure you do.” He sounds nervous.

 “I think I might surprise you.” You can’t help but tease him a little before continuing. “You think its all transference. That I only think I like you because you’re here to protect me. Some sort of white knight bullshit.” You can’t stop yourself from sounding mildly annoyed about it. Although, the look of shock on his face helps. “I heard what you said to Morgan.” He sighs before moving to pull back.

 “No, Spence. Listen to me. I heard what you said to Morgan.” You wait for him to follow your train of thought back a few days.

 “But that was four days ago?” He looks more confused than ever.

 “I know. I wanted to make sure that what I feel is real. I didn’t want to lead you on if I might not actually want this. But I do. More than I’ve ever wanted anything before. Spencer, you are a light in my life and not just because you’re here to make sure I don’t get murdered. Although that certainly doesn’t hurt. I feel like I can tell you anything and you won’t judge me for it. That I can truly be myself without worry of letting you down.”

 “Y/N you could never let me down. I just don’t want you to wake up one day and regret anything. I don’t want you to regret me.” He looks crestfallen.

 “Spencer Reid.”  You move your hands to his cheeks to gently push his head up to make eye contact. “I could never regret a single moment spent with you. I have loved every single one. I loved watching you listen to the songs about your friends. I loved listening to you talk about things you love, like Doctor Who and statistics. I loved sitting next to while you played piano. I loved talking to you about anything and everything. Spencer, I love how I feel when I’m with you and I know for a fact I would feel the same way if I met you walking down the street.”

 “Y/N” the way he says your name is music to your ears. “I love how I feel when I’m with you too. I loved listening to you sing about my friends, capturing the essence of who they are. I loved watching you experience the things I have grown so accustomed to doing. I loved the feeling of you leaning on my shoulder while I played Bach. I loved hearing you come up with an entire storyline for one song in a matter of minutes just based on one story. I have loved every single second I have been with you since I first saw you 7 days, 2 hours, and 32 minutes ago. Even if I didn’t say a word to you until after you woke up in the hospital.”

 The two of you laugh as you pull him to the couch to cuddle. You put on more Doctor Who, sitting with your legs across his lap and playing with his hands. It’s nice to just be close to him without having to worry. You find yourself getting wrapped up in the show. Spencer is quieter this time. You think he might have something on his mind, but you decide to wait for him to share. Between the third and fourth episode, he speaks up.

 “Y/N, are you and Ryan… are you together?” You look up to see a nervous expression once again on his face.

 “Ryan who?” You are genuinely confused as to who he could even be talking about.

 “Ryan Moore, the sound booth guy.” You look even more confused than before.

 “Not even a little bit. I politely declined his offer to take me out. Is that what’s been bugging you for the last three episodes?” You smile at his pout.

 “Maybe. You just seemed so happy when you mentioned that he asked you out. You were practically glowing with how big your smile was.”

“Spence, I was happy because I could actually help you with the case. I only have eyes for one guy.” You shift to straddle his lap.

 “Yeah, who’s that?” He pulls you even closer.

 “Matt Smith” You say it with the best deadpan expression you can manage in the circumstances.

 “Wow, your standards must be pretty low to settle for the 11th doctor. He’s not even in the top three best doctors!” He plays along with your joke, although he doesn’t have to act incredulous sat you preference for the 11th doctor.

 “Well, my number one doctor isn’t really on TV.” You bite your lip, leaning in until you connect your mouth to his.

 Right as you’re both about to take it one step further, your phone rings. “Fuck.” The word is barely a whisper leaving your mouth as you pull back from Spencer trying to catch your breath.

 “Hello?” you don’t hear anything on the other end of the phone. “Hello? Anyone there? Hello?” Suddenly the line goes dead. You turn to Spencer. “Well, that was weird.” Spencer frantically moves you off his lap as he stands up, taking out his phone. Without telling you anything, he is frantically dialing a number, mumbling under his breath.

 “Garcia! I need to you to figure out who just called Y/N’s phone.” He waits a minute, presumably listening to her reply. “Yes, it just rang and when she answered nobody said anything. Thank you.” He hangs up, swiftly moving back to the couch to pull you into a hug.

 “What just happened?” You can feel your heartrate speeding up.

 “It might be nothing, but that might have been the unsub. Garcia is tracking down the number that made the call right now. If it’s possible to figure out, she’ll have it done by morning.” He rubs calming circles on your hip with his thumb. “Why don’t you go to sleep? Try to get some rest?” You nod, rising from the couch.

 “Spence, will you lay with me?” Your voice is small and scared as you ask the question. He simply nods, both of you changing into pajamas before meeting in the bedroom to lay down. You snuggle up close to him, trying to breathe in the same pattern as him until you fall asleep.

 --

 When you wake up, you can hear Spencer in the living room, talking on his phone. You want nothing more than to go back to sleep, but not if you can’t cuddle with Spencer while you do it. Throwing the covers off of you, you get up so you can actually see Spencer. He’s got his back to you when you open the door, so you sneak up behind him. He jumps a little with a surprised gasp when you wrap your arms around his middle.

 “What? Oh, uh… I’m fi-fine. Everything’s fine. I was just surprised.” He spins around to hug you, giving you a slight glare. “By, um, a beetle. Yeah, there was a beetle.” The lie is so obvious you can’t help but laugh as you bury your head into his chest.

 A few minutes later, he finally hangs up. “What did they find out about the phone call?” You mumble the question into the fabric of his cardigan.

 “Less than we were hoping for. It was a prepaid cell, so Garcia can’t trace it back to the owner.” You squeeze him tighter, glad to have him with you through all of this. After a few minutes of standing with him, you reluctantly pull back.

 “Well, we should get to work. These songs are not going to write themselves!”

 You and Spencer retreat to different parts of the suite to get ready for the day. As much as you would love to jump his bones, it doesn’t feel right to take up his time with that when he could be working. At least if you were working on songs together it was part of the cover.

 You ultimately decide to just sit in the park across from the hotel today. Normally, you wouldn’t even leave your room at this point in the writing process. You just don’t completely trust yourself to be alone with him at the moment. At least in public you can control yourself a little bit. Yet, the many people walking around the park do nothing to stop you from grabbing Spencer’s hand and playing with his fingers while thinking particularly hard about a certain lyric.

 A bright flash of light draws you out of your reverie. You already know how the picture is going to look. You are laying across a blanket, knees in the air. Spencer is sitting beside you, reading messages from the team on his phone. His other hand is still between yours as you run your fingers over his knuckles. You are absolutely sure there is look of complete adoration on your face. You can’t bring yourself to care that the paparazzi took the picture. You have nothing to hide.

 After the shock of the bright light fades, you notice a familiar face behind the few photographers in front of you. The shock of seeing someone for a second time floods your brain while you try to remember the profile Hotch told you that very first night. Without thinking too hard, you fling yourself into a sitting position. You gather everything you brought with you to the park, dragging Spencer along with you. He clearly doesn’t understand the shift in your behavior, but he’d gladly follow you anywhere.

 It’s not until you reach your room that you look at him. He can see the fear in your eyes before you even open your mouth. “Baby, what is it? What happened?” He begins recalling everything from the moment the first flash went off, trying to figure out what made you so scared.

 “I saw him.” You can barely hear yourself over the sound of your heart beating in your chest. “I saw the unsub. I mean, I think I did. He held the door open for us this morning when we left the hotel, and then he was in the park when the paparazzi were taking pictures. Hotch… he said to tell you if I saw anyone more than once in a day.” The words escape your lips in a hurry, trying to keep up with your flying thoughts.

 “Okay, breathe. I’m right here. I’m going to call the team. Did you recognize him from anywhere else?” You try to picture the face in your mind, and suddenly you are seeing him everywhere. In the coffee shop that very first day. Behind the trees in the park with the piano. If you and Spencer were there, so was he. Just, normally you only caught a glimpse of him for a second. Definitely not twice in one day.

 You rush to tell Spencer what you’re remembering. At this point, you don’t even know if it’s true. Maybe your mind is playing tricks on you. Just filling in this man’s face on other people’s bodies to fit the story that he is the one behind it all. Nonetheless, you give him the description of who you saw. White, probably 35ish, brown hair. You didn’t see his eyes, but they looked evil. The expression on his face just screamed serial killer. Maybe that’s in your head too. Who knows?

 “I know I’ve seen that face before, I just can’t remember where. God, I’m useless. This man is hurting people and I can’t even remember where I’ve seen him before. Think. Think. THINK.” You’ve started pacing the room, trying to figure out who it could be. Spencer doesn’t say anything else to you until he’s finished the phone call. Even then, he’s more so humming and shushing you than really talking. He pulls you into a hug, trying to calm you down yet again.

 “Y/N. You are anything but useless. You noticed he was there. That’s a step in the right direction. We are going to find him, and he is going to go to jail for a very long time.” Somewhere, deep inside, you knew Spencer couldn’t guarantee that, but you also knew it was better for you to listen to him than to force yourself down a rabbit hole you couldn’t dig yourself out of.

 A few calming breaths later, and your asleep on the couch, wrapped up in Spencer’s arms.

 --

 It’s still dark when you open your eyes. You can hear someone moving around, but it’s too dark to see. Spencer isn’t with you on the couch, so it could be him, but something feels wrong. Why would Spencer be up in the middle of the night wandering around in the dark?

 “Spencer?” Everything goes still at the sound of your voice. Yeah, that was not the best move you could’ve made… Before you can say anything else, you are knocked out cold. The sound of a lamp smashing over your head is that last thing you hear.

tag list:

@mac99martin , @wecouldbreakthedistance , @spencerhotchner , @girloncorneliastreet , @itsametaphorbriansblog , @moonshinerbynight , @meowiemari , @justanotherfangirl  , @im-so-wonderstruck , @eevee0722 , @raining13lemonade​ @dilaudidwinchester​ , @silverdagger69 , @thatsonezesty13

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Avenger Things - Bucky Barnes x powered (f)reader

Summary: You’re just trying to make it through the day without breaking anything, or anyone.

Warning: language, fluff, bit of nonesense

Masterlist

Practically limping into the Avengers large kitchen you couldn’t believe how sore you were from, well, let’s just say you’re not entirely so sure. What you do know is that it’s the morning after a stealth mission and your more beastly self, if that’s even the correct term, must have done or gotten into something last night that might have knocked you out cold. 

Hence the memory loss.

Honestly you could laugh, it’s like trying to figure out what drunk you was getting themselves into. Problem is, this “drunk you” at the time was 2.4lb of absolute raging adrenaline with an apparent lack of safety awareness and good judgment skills. 

Not a good combination. Also you were a hawk.

So here you are, piecing together the jumbled puzzle of last night while you make an attempt at finding breakfast before the crowds come noisily shuffling into the temporarily quiet hang out room slash luxurious kitchen, of the famous Avengers Facility. Ah, the life of an Avenger who’s fantastical ability allows them to shift into any animal in existence.

Although it’s a blessing, you sometimes suffer the consequences of being an actual avenger, and shit, your left shoulder and rib cage are so sore right now you could scream. Your accelerated healing has already kicked in but alas that does not mean your body will spare you some soreness and bruising.

“Fuck what did I do?” You mutter grumpily while reaching for the fridge door handle, making certain not to pull to hard for fear of ripping the metal right off.

Soon your eyes scan over the multitude of various healthy snacks and equally as healthy leftovers due to Steve’s insistent attitude towards fueling yourselves with the best, to be the best or some cheesy hero shit like that.

Spotting your left over hidden burrito in the back of the fridge sends an excited thrill into your otherwise tired and achy self, you snatch it up quickly, and without thinking pull the metal door off its hinges while quickly trying to close it.

Shit.

Tossing the burrito onto the nearby counter top, you swiftly grasp the large food filled door with both hands as you hold it up with ease. Well this is just a fantastic situation isn’t it? Apparently you’re incapable of having an easy morning like just previously planned. Wait are those footsteps?

“You know, you can just have Tony buy you a mini fridge for your room.” Quips Sam with an amused chuckle as you quickly snap your head over to the startling sound. “I think he could afford it.” 

Your eyes widen in surprise before narrowing in annoyance at his happily smirking face, Bucky and Vision right behind him to your great pissed-off-ness. “Fuck off I didn’t mean to do....this.” But of course it happens to me.

Eyeing you up with a face that practically says “I know but this is hilarious” Sam nods before sitting down on the bar’s stool, Vision coming to your aid as he phases through the counter to take the fridge door out of your hands.

“Thanks Vis.” You mutter with an appreciative nod.

Setting down the door onto the floor, Vision turns to greet you, “No problem Y/N, it appears you needed the help, I’ll just um....go inform Tony of this....fridge.” He says before turning to leave out the way he came. Guess he’s not one for awkward situations.

Watching him go you suddenly glare down at the two whispering Avengers seated in front of you on the other side of the counter, “Thanks for helping assholes.” You growl unenthusiastically, reaching into the fridge to pick up a water bottle.

“Oh doll, we would have helped you.” Assures Bucky with a kind smile as you force yourself to keep a stoic face. “Vision seemed to handle it pretty well on his own.”

“Yeah well now this fucking fridge is broken and I still feel sore.” You complain with a sneer as Bucky and Sam share a chuckle.

“What?” Laughs Sam, “Don’t tell me you both?....and after the mission too?” He implies with raised brows as you send him the most done-with-your-shit face you can muster.

Sensing your growing irritation, Bucky speaks up, “No, no....definitely not that..it was the mission.”

“Oh shit you’re right.” Realizes Sam as you roll your eyes at him, let’s just say that last mission was a rough ending one. Also you can’t remember much after shifting into a hawk, seeing some bright lights and then...

“Yes.” You grumble, “and I’ve come to the thrilling conclusion that I must have gotten hit by a car......so that’s fun.” You mutter with as much enthusiasm as a stick, causing both Bucky and Sam to begin laughing again. What the hell is so funny?

Listening to them lose it inevitably causes you to start chuckling which in turn causes your ribs to shoot with a hot flaring pain. Holding your injured side you use your other hand to pound against the marble table, “Stop laughing this shit hurts and neither of you dumbfucks are helping.” You grumble half-heartedly.

“Alright.” Says Bucky standing up, “Come on doll let’s get outta here and get a heating pad on that tire mark under your shirt.” He adds sarcastically with another laugh.

Letting out a quick snort you shake your head at his handsome face, “Okay smartass I’ll let that one slide.”

He smirks at your good humored reaction and admittedly adorable messy hair, “I’m thinking we get cozy, watch that weird pirate movie you like with the Sparrow guy, and then see where it takes us.” Suggests Bucky with a lazy smile as he stretches his arm causing his shirt to rise up and reveal a bit of toned tummy.

Sam whines, “What? We have sparring at three this afternoon and you’re gonna leave me hanging for Miss. Grouchy-pants over here?” Points out Sam to Bucky as you cross your hands over your chest while raising a brow.

“Yup.” Quips Bucky with a shrug.

Sam blinks, “Unbelievable.”

“I like Y/N more.”

“You suck and I need a new sparring partner now.”

“Just ask Steve or Nat.” You suggest, not caring much for Sam’s problems at the moment.

“No they’re hard-core and mean.”

“Spar with Clint then.” Adds Bucky.

“No he cheap shots.”

“And I got hit by a car last night we all got problems.” You sass, gaining their distracted attentions once again. “Try and steal Bucky from me and I will make sure you remember what getting a wet towel slapped across your ass feels like.”

“Very specific and greatly noted Y/N. He’s all yours.” Says Sam while raising his hands defensively, “By the way you look rather stunning today did I mention that yet?”

“Don’t press your luck bird boy I’m not known to be very forgiving.”

“Clearly.” Jabs Sam under his breath while you take a swig of water, though you’re increased hearing enables you to catch that loud and clear.

After twisting the cap back on you immediately chuck it at his head, conveniently nailing him right in the temple causing him to yelp in surprise. “Jesus!” He shouts before falling off of the stool and onto the wooden floor below.

“Nope just me.” You deadpan with a satisfied smirk, walking over to Bucky while Sam gathers his bearings.

Bucky immediately throws an arm around you, making sure not to squeeze you too tight in the process. Leaning into his warm side, Sam throws you a half annoyed glare, showing how much he’d like to retaliate but also knowing he’s outnumbered in more ways then one.

“As much as I’d like to see you two beat each other’s ass right now.” Suddenly announces Steve, “We have a mission report in five.”

“What?” You sigh in annoyance, “Really? Right now? Can’t this shit wait?”

Steve sends you an apologetic smile, understanding you’re still in pain and thus very grouchy, “It’ll be quick. The team just needs to go over some credentials about the mission yesterday. Then you can go about your day off.”

Holding Bucky close, you pull him in a little closer, eyeing up Steve defensively, “Bucky too.”

Steve gives you an unsure look, “Well uh...”

“That wasn’t a question Rogers.” You growl, causing Steve to take a cautious step back as Sam lets out a chuckle.

“Yeah Cap I wouldn’t.”

“Right.” Nods Steve, “Yeah, you two are off the rest of the day after the meeting. Uh, see you guys then.” Waves the man with a plan himself, smartly deciding not to linger for much longer or face another steely glare from you.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.” You mutter, parting from Bucky to lead the way down the hall to the usual meeting room.

——

After nudging Bucky to go on ahead to claim your unofficial official meeting chairs, you swung by your room to put on a sweatshirt and now are finally, though begrudgingly, making your merry way down the hall and into the expensive meeting room. 

Hood up, you trudge into the brightly lit area, practically squinting as the sunshine hits you like a blinding wall through the obnoxiously giant glass windows. “Nice of you to join us Y/N. Get lost on your way here?” Quips Clint as the whole entirety of the Avenger’s turn their heads to face you. 

“No, I just didn’t want to come.” You deadpan with a humored glare, earning a couple snickers from your friends. 

“Yeah that’s fair.” He shrugs.

Plopping yourself down in the facility’s decently comfortable swivel chair, you slouch tiredly, leaning your body against the arm rest to keep your bruised side from bothering you more then it already does.

Bucky is already in the seat to your left, Sam opting to snatch the one across from you two, while Vision and Wanda have claimed the seats to Sam’s right. Natasha and Steve sitting at the two chairs at the far end to your left, while Clint stands. 

“So...” Begins Clint, the apparent leader of todays meeting, “Yesterday’s mission in Quebec was a challenging one, I won’t lie to you. We took a hit, some more then others.” Nods Clint in your direction.

“You’re fucking hilarious.” You mutter, rolling your eyes in annoyance as Sam and Bucky hold in their laughter, while the others ignore the obvious implication, keeping it professional and in your good graces. 

“Thank you Y/N I know. Anyways, I think our team training days have improved our performance and been worthwhile. Now, as usual, Steve and Nat...great leadership skills. Vision, Wanda, the whatever the shit you guys are able to do, amazing...keep it up.” Clint glances back down at his notes while you yawn, “Sam and Bucky, nice recovery at the end, things where getting heated and you both really pulled through.”

“Hell yeah.” Smirks Sam as he leans over to fist bump Bucky from across the table.

Practically lowering yourself deeper into your seat, you mentally prepare yourself for whatever smartass comment you’re about to get from Clint. He looks down at his notes then moves to pick up a thin metal remote that connects to the blank screen behind him. 

“Uhh lets see here,” He mumbles while clicking some buttons that inevitably turn the screen on, “Okay good it works.” Swiveling around on his heal, Clint points the remote directly at you, “Y/N.” He says with a mischievous grin.

“Clint.” You point back in confusion, side eyeing Wanda nervously.

“Let’s talk...” Stretching out his arm, he clicks the remote to reveal a PowerPoint, “about safety awareness.”

Okay fuck you.

Chuckling tensely you shake your head, “I’d rather not.”

“Which is precisely why we...meaning you all,” Motions Clint to all of you with both his hands in two circles, “need to be educated on safety in the field.” A second later he flicks the lights off with a swift click of the remote, Okay great.....slide number one, do you have a buddy?”

As Clint keeps droning on and on for the next five minutes you suddenly decide to scoot over to rest your chin against Bucky’s right shoulder that's leaning against the table. He immediately smiles, turning his head away from an obliviously jabbering Clint, “Buck I’m going to commit a crime in the next two minutes if I don’t get the fuck out of here.” You whisper, squeezing his shoulder for emphasis.

Biting his lip to refrain from laughing, he reaches to take one of your hands with his, “And what crime will I have to admit in the police report?” He quietly muses.

“Murder.”

Kissing the pack of your hand to help you try and relax for the moment, he smirks, “Y/N it’s going to be difficult to break you out of jail.”

“Not if I don’t get caught.” You quip smartly while resting your head against his shoulder, “I’ve been contemplating taking out Clint since 2012 but then Natasha always stops me.”

“What’s stopping you now?” Challenges Bucky with the tiniest snort of amusement.

“Natasha.” You mutter, “Also I’m god-mother to one of his kids so I’m morally not allowed to kill him.....but I’ve never been more tempted then today.” 

“Shh.” Whispers Bucky with an amused smile as you roll your eyes, wanting nothing more then to leave this boring meeting. Fine, but if it was just me and Clint I would pummel his ass into the wall without a second thought, you think to yourself.

A moment later Wanda lets out a random snort of laughter that causes the team to look over at her in confusion while Clint is in the middle of explaining why it’s important to (make sure the enemy is knocked the fuck out before walking away). She quickly covers her mouth in embarrassment as Clint abruptly ends the PowerPoint, clicking back the lights on as he sighs in disappointment.

“Come on Wanda I was almost done.” He whines, setting a hand on his hip as she bites her lip to keep a straight face. Parting from Bucky, you move to lean yourself against the table top and listen to Clink complain. She looks down then glances over at you while Clint fumbles to turn the screen off. 

Oh, shit did she hear me say that?

“Sorry.” Mutters Wanda as you quickly realize you’re the reason she started to laugh, resulting in the abrupt ending of Clint’s 30 minute presentation. 

Giving her a quick wink, you quickly stand, causing your friends to look over at you, “Alright, good work team, we’re the best huh,” You add sarcastically before looking directly at Clint, “also Clint fantastic work at being the most interesting 87 year old, I’m thoroughly impressed you even know what a PowerPoint is. Kudos to you, I’m out.”

Before anyone can stop you, you’re already at the door, “Y/N you can’t just leave we’re only taking a break. And I already know how to use a PowerPoint.”

“Yeah and you also know how to put someone to sleep even without an arrow.” You sass while the others start to get up as well. 

“What? Guys, come on.” Complains Clint as Bucky almost trips shuffling quickly to the door.

“Babe I’m with you wait up.”

——

“So you really did get smacked by a truck. Who would’ve thought.” Mumbles Bucky humorously as the two of you lay sprawled out on your shared bed, a heating pad on your side as Bucky’s head lays on the corner of your right hip. His hands absentmindedly holding your right hand to his chest while your other one presses the heating pad to your ribs.

You lazily stare up at the ceiling while he studies your face, “I guess it makes sense since I can’t remember anything after that. I didn’t even see the damn hunk of moving metal coming either, so stupid.”

“No.” He assures softly, “We all fuck up and miss things sometimes. It happens to everyone.”

Smiling you simply roll your eyes, “Bucky you’re adorable but I, who was a hawk at the time....to be real here, got bitch slapped by a truck.”

“I’ve been thrown off a car a couple times actually.” He confirms with a shrug, “But yeah, you’re way tougher then me.” He finally chuckles.

“I’m tougher then everyone.”

Bucky smiles proudly, “Fuck yeah you are.”

[aloraundomiel]

I’ve decided to combine @rubinecorvus Wartober 2021 and @raincoffeeandfandoms Kisstober 2021 prompt challenges for double the fun and double the headache. :3

Day 3 - Vessel + Morning Kisses

Dick can tell what kind of day it’s going to be by the mug Nix chooses upon waking.

He shuffles into the kitchen, already running late and nearly nude, if not as naked as the day he was born. Occasionally there will be socks. His hair will be unkempt and sticking up in every direction, inexplicable if Dick has tugged on it through their sex the night before. Eyes closed as he’s drawn to the coffee pot like a moth to the flame, skirting the kitchen table and counter edges from memory.

Dick shakes back his sleeve, mouth tightening in a minute down turn as his watch ticks on insistently.

Nix scrubs a hand through his heavy stubble, peers over to where Dick’s standing in his mild irritation.

“You’ve missed the first train,” he slurs.

Dick tugs his sleeve back down, crosses the three strides it takes to get from the cramped apartment kitchen to the door and plucks his coat from the hook.

“I can make the second if I leave in the next couple of minutes. The benefits of cheap housing, being so close to the station. Are you coming?”

Nix barks a laugh and it’s no indicator whether he’s scoffing at the suggestion he could possibly be ready in minutes or at the notion of showing up for work at all. The possibility of either happening is slim to none and mentally Dick already starts to run down the list of tasks he’ll have to add to his own agenda today to ensure Nixon Nitration’s administrative offices continue to run smoothly without their employer. Not that any of the staff will be shocked by the boss not showing up at the office. The times they actually see Stanhope Nixon’s son per month can be counted on both hands. But Dick’s job is enough work on it’s own. Not particularly challenging, but he would like to stamp it with his own brand of efficiency and work ethic without constantly having to cover for Nix going AWOL.

Dick watches from beneath his lashes, stalking Nix’s movement to the cabinet where the coffee mugs are kept.

“Coffee first,” grumbles Nix, fumbling through the collection of ceramic vessels with a series of soft clanks and clings.

Dick waits, holding his breath. Though there’s a dozen different cups within reach, there will be three that dictate Nix’s current mood and mental state. If he chooses the white, unassuming diner mug, lacking any kind of decoration or detail, a full night’s sleep was had and the day will consist of the usual amount of humorous cynicism. If he goes for the slightly larger jadeite mug with the chip in the handle, the day will only be peppered lightly with bouts of irritability and spells of hopelessness and ennui, and some level of productivity and socialization will be maintained. If he reaches for the hand-thrown extra large stoneware mug with Adirondack pines circumventing it’s convex sides...Dick hopes he doesn’t reach for that mug.

“You sleep all right?” Dick prompts, hoping to get some insight into foretelling the selection before it happens.

Nix cuts a sleepy side-eyed glance at him across the counter, flashes that smirk that even in his bedraggled, rugged state makes Dick’s heart do a tiny wet flip-flop.

“Well not for the present company’s lack of trying.” He lifts a brow and drops his gaze lewdly down Dick’s front, rests it suggestively at the crotch of his khakis.

To hide the flush he feels spreading from the apple of his cheeks, Dick clears his throat and leans over to snatch his hat off the coat rack.

“Wasn’t my intention to keep you up all night-”

“Some parts of me, it was,” Nix drawls.

Dick continues with a grimace. “I just thought,” he insists, “it might be nice to spend some time together. Things have gotten busy at the office lately, and well.”

He trails off, chewing at the inside of his lip. It does seem silly now. Inviting Nix over to spend the night because he’d missed the feel of his skin against his own, missed the timbre of his unguarded laugh. Reckless even. Although the apartment building is the right amount of cordial and distant, he’s still got neighbors. And even the most loyal neighbors can talk. It’s ridiculous. Risking what he has with Nix on a single night’s basest pleasure. He’d told himself once they were back home, he’d figure something out. A way to love him without the secrecy and sneaking around, a way to care for Nix as he deserved to be cared for - without regret. Dick swore to be the first. The first to adore Lewis Nixon and not treat him as a burden to be endured. As a mistake to be suffered.

“Nevermind,” he says, rather glumly. “I’m glad you got some rest.”

Nix leans back to peer around the cabinet door, picking up on the change in his tone. His face softens, eyes opening fully for the first time since entering the kitchen and he abandons his quest for coffee to step around the counter’s edge. He reaches for Dick, runs a cautious hand down his arm.

“Hey, Dick, hey.” His eyes are the perfect compliment to a fine cup of coffee. Dick’s always been drawn to the color of Nix’s eyes.

“It was great,” Nix tells him, sliding his hand up to cup the back of Dick’s neck, gives it a squeeze. “Extraordinary. Transcendent. It always is. But I don’t always need you to fuck me through the mattress to enjoy spending time with you. You could let me take you to dinner.”

Dick can feel the crude words push his flush out to the roots of his hair. “Dinner?”

Nix leans in, eyes flicking between Dick’s and his mouth and back. “Yeah. You know. Dinner. And a movie. And maybe a little necking in the car in the back of the parking lot.”

His grin is annoyingly contagious and Dick stops fighting the magnetic pull, let’s himself be drawn into Nix’s gravity. “Like a date?” he murmurs.

“Yeah. A real date. I’ll pick you up, bring you flowers, spring for dessert, the whole shebang.”

Dick tilts his head, inviting Nix closer, draws his other arm up to cage Dick fully against the door.

“Careful,” he whispers, a hair’s breath away from Nix’s lips. “A man might think you’re sweet on him with all that.”

Nix’s coffee colored eyes twinkle, wide awake. “Good.”

He surges up to capture Dick’s mouth, kissing whatever smart reply he had building on his tongue away. Dick moans, buries his hands in Nix’s wild hair and kisses him back, licks at the seam of his mouth until he opens and allows Dick entrance. He tastes sleep-sour and there’s an echo of last night’s whiskey and that bitter, smoky afterburn that is all Nix and Dick laps it up greedily. All night he’s chased this taste, desperate for it, accenting it with the salt of Nix’s sweat and the sound of Dick’s name from his throat. And he still wants more.

Is this what Nix feels every time he reaches for his flask? Is this what addiction is?

He kisses Nix until his cheeks burn from the rasp of his stubble. He kisses Nix until his lips feel swollen and his heart full to the brim. Kisses him until he’s satisfied he can wait until it’s time to punch out from work and find Nix again to refill his need of Nix’s lips against his.

When Nix draws back, his breathing is just a tad uneven, his pupils a tad too large. Dick smirks, pleased he’s not the only addict between them.

“So,” Nix says, trying and failing to cover his breathlessness. “You name the day. And I’ll come steal you away for a whirlwind courtship. What do you say?”

Dick runs a thumb over Nix’s bottom lip, watches the way it catches in the tacky saliva still clinging to the swell. “I accept.”

Nix grins, catching the pad of his thumb and giving it a swirl with his clever, devious tongue. He releases it with an audible pop and pushes off the door, leaving Dick choking on a rather indignant whimper in his wake.

“You better run,” he advises. “You’ve got sixty seconds if you’re making your train.”

Snapping out of his spell, Dick tsks and glances at his watch again. He bends at the waist to retrieve his poor hat that got abandoned to the floor with all the smooching.

“Are you coming in today or not? I need to tell Janet or she won’t stop hounding me about it.”

Nix, already back at the coffee pot, lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “Who can say?” he says airily, reaching into the cabinet. “I’ve got a big date to plan for, might need to take the day off and prepare.”

He lowers his hand and in it is clutched the plain white diner mug.

Dick beams.

“Fine,” he chuckles, already half out the door before Nix can finish filling his coffee. “See you later. Or not.”

There’s the sound of a sloppy, particularly wet coffee kiss being blown at his back as the door shuts and Dick finds himself grinning all the way to the train station.

It’s going to be a great day.

[nebulous-frog]

Rest Now

Relationships: JonMartin

Summary: Jon and Martin arrive at the safehouse 

Word Count: 1682

Link to AO3   Fics Masterlist

It was thunderstorming when they finally arrived, pulling up the near-forgotten path in a beat-up old car. On the drive, they hadn’t talked much- what was there to say? Since their last real conversation, neither had done anything that they particularly wanted to remember, and the inevitable discussion of what they’d just experienced was bound to be far too intense and emotional for their unexpected journey. Now, though, roughly twisting the key in the lock stuck from disuse, it was possible they’d have a chance for it to happen. For months- years, even- of emotions that should’ve been brought up ages ago.

Jon held back a grimace at the thought, awkwardly shuffling inside with his small bag and fumbling for a light switch. Part of him was desperate to get it over with, to finally air out all the dirty laundry and start afresh, to just be there for Martin in the ways he deserved. But another part, simultaneously logical and cowardly, was arguing that it was late, they’d had a long day, they were both exhausted. The conversation they needed to have was simply too much to cover while they were in such a state, he told himself.

“Jon?” Martin asked, voice quiet and tired.

Jon turned toward him expectantly, but he didn’t offer anything more, just gestured vaguely forward, and Jon realized he was still in the entryway.

“Oh, right, sorry,” Jon mumbled, stepping fully into the little cabin.

There were only a few rooms. The kitchen was tiny up against one side and shared the main open area with the living room and a small dining table. Directly across from the front door was a short hallway with a door on either side- presumably a bedroom and a bathroom.

Jon cleared his throat in time with a rumble of thunder.

“There’s some firewood over in that corner. I’ll get us a fire going,” he told Martin softly. “We should be able to get the radiator to start with a little work, but it’ll be easier tomorrow with more light.”

Martin nodded silently and walked slowly towards the hallway, slipping into the room on the left while Jon got busy with the firewood. He’d just coaxed some kindling into a flame when Martin came back in, hands wringing together. Jon recognized it as Martin’s anxious tell, which sent contradictory feelings through his system. On the one hand, Jon hated the thought that Martin was uncomfortable, but on the other he was just relieved that any feeling at all had pushed through the residual numbness of the Lonely.

“There’s, um, only the one bed,” Martin explained.

“Ah.” Jon glanced at the rickety loveseat sat in front of the fireplace, but Martin spoke again before he could make any suggestions.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch, Jon,” he said sternly, his protective caretaker instincts shining through. “I, uh,” he swallowed, already nervous again, “I was thinking we should share anyway, since it’ll be so cold and the bed actually is fairly big and- well- I just…” he trailed off for a moment, not looking at Jon, then seemed to steel himself even as he shrunk in on himself further and kept his eyes trained on the floor between them. “I don’t think I should really be alone right now.” The end of his sentence was almost a whisper, embarrassment and vulnerability clear in the blush high on his cheeks.

It’d been a long time since Jon had seen him blush. It was even prettier than he remembered, and he hoped he could see it a lot more in the coming days, ideally as the result of more positive emotions. Maybe Jon could even cause it himself… he chastised himself for the thought, trying to focus back on the present and caring for Martin now.

“Alright,” Jon agreed. He turned his head just enough to check that the fire was taking, then moved to stand from the floor. His legs were still stiff from the drive, so it took a bit more effort than he was expecting.

Martin appeared at his side immediately, offering an arm for stability. Jon gratefully took it until he could get his cane properly situated in his other hand. He reluctantly let go, briefly looking up at Martin’s face and catching a hint of an expression he didn’t know how to interpret before Martin’s face returned to a more neutral place- although the blush was still intense.

“I don’t know about you,” Jon started, “but sleep sounds wonderful right now.”

Martin nodded. “I put sheets on the bed already.”

Together, they walked back to the bedroom. Jon changed into his light pajamas in the bathroom while Martin took the bedroom. A few minutes later, they stood side by side facing the bed.

“Do you have a preference for which side...?” Jon asked. He was determinedly ignoring the part of his mind reminding him of his feelings for the man he was about to share a bed with.

It wasn’t that he worried his feelings were unrequited- he was quite certain that Martin felt the same, having Seen each other so completely in the Lonely. But they’d barely spoken in months, and so much had happened since then. So much had happened even in the last few days. It was a big step to now share a bed without even discussing their boundaries, and Jon didn’t want to be too much too fast.

“No preference,” Martin answered, pulling Jon from his thoughts.

“Boundaries,” he blurted. He felt his cheeks heat furiously, his discomfort and exhaustion sending him stumbling towards this conversation unprepared.

Martin blinked at him, obviously confused. “We… we only have two pillows? We can’t really make one between us-”

“No, no,” Jon continued, eyes darting from the bed to Martin to the floor and back as he fiddled with the black ring on his middle finger. He’d come this far, and it really was important to discuss anyway, so he pushed through his awkwardness. “I meant, well. Metaphorical boundaries for physical touch, in- in this situation. I, um. I don’t mind however close we end up.”

Martin’s own cheeks flushed to match how Jon’s felt. “Oh. I, uh. I don’t mind either?”

Jon nodded, now staring hard at the bed. “Right. We- we should probably have a more, er, detailed discussion. At some point. I think we’re on a, uh. Similar page, so to speak,” he glanced nervously up at Martin’s face, “but it would be good to- well, to clarify. Sooner than later. But I think we’re far too exhausted to be very coherent about it now.”

Martin’s cheeks were still a bright red as he squeaked out a “Yeah, that- that sounds good, Jon.”

Jon nodded once more. “Right.” He walked stiffly towards the bed, pulling back the covers and sliding in.

Martin cautiously joined him on the other side, and they both laid there for a minute, flat on their backs, staring at the ceiling in total silence. Both men were as close to the edge of the mattress as possible, leaving a canyon between them, bodies rigid.

After a few tense minutes of being afraid to even move, Jon huffed. “This is ridiculous,” he grumbled, more to himself than anything else, and he rolled over on his side to face Martin. They’d both just established that neither of them would mind being closer together, so he might as well get comfortable. He still gave Martin some space, but he’d at least crossed into their invisible barrier and hopefully broke some of the awkward tension.

In return, Martin turned just his head to look back at Jon. He swallowed thickly, eyes flitting across Jon’s face in the dark.

“You know,” Martin began in hushed tones, turning to look back at the ceiling, “the Lonely has a real talent for clinging to its victims.” He held up a hand as Jon started to interject. “It’s just. You could be surrounded by people and still feel alone, maybe even lonelier than when you’re actually alone.” He turned to Jon again, a heartbreakingly fond yet sad expression just visible to Jon in the darkness. He smiled sadly. “You can lie in bed with the man you love and still feel Lonely.”

A pained sound punched out of Jon. His firm, official declaration of his feelings needed to wait for the morning, as he insisted they take more space and grandeur for Martin than a moment like this, but he couldn’t leave that unanswered. He scooted even closer to Martin, minimizing the gap and resting a hand on Martin’s arm.

“The man I love,” he said, pulling Martin’s hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss, soft as can be, on his knuckles, “may sometimes feel lonely and discouraged,” he flipped Martin’s hand over and pressed another kiss to his palm, “but he must know,” one more kiss, now to the inside of Martin’s wrist, “he will never be alone again.” Jon stared directly into Martin’s eyes, kissing the back of his hand again and using his thumb to lightly rub over the spot.

Martin’s lips had parted slightly in a silent gasp, his eyebrows drawn together in a complicated combination of emotions that Jon couldn’t decipher. He took in a deep, shuddering breath. “Come here?” he whispered, raising his free arm in invitation.

Jon lifted himself slightly and settled half on top of Martin, his face buried in Martin’s neck. He wrapped his arms around Martin’s stomach and couldn’t help the content sigh he let out, relaxing fully as Martin’s arms came up around him. He revelled in the closeness and the softness of Martin under him and around him.

“Thank you,” Martin whispered. He pressed his lips to the top of Jon’s head. “Thank you.”

Jon shook his head and squeezed tighter. “Anything,” he whispered into Martin’s neck. “Anything.”

They held each other tightly, just breathing together, for a long moment, feeling as though finally something had gone right. They rested in the reassurance of each other’s presence, eventually drifting off into blissfully dreamless sleep.