Tumgik
#and when you already have two different degrees like i have
simpjaes · 6 hours
Note
i feel like a stalker reader fic with a plot twist of sunghoon being a stalker even before reader was obsessed with him (kind of like a mastermind where he plotted how and when they would meet first) AND A FREAKY ONE AT THAT is only a fic that you could possibly write
and you're right about that bc i do believe i'd slay that shit if I ever got around to it.
a/n: this was meant to just be a thought but i got a lil lost in it lmfao.
Like, the idea of Sunghoon being obsessed with you since fuckin' senior year of high school because he transferred there. He was vulnerable when he transferred due to home life stuff forcing the move, and he had close to no one save for a dad who was never home. You were the first person to say hello to him and that singular greeting made him grow attached.
and he'd like, watch week after week. sometimes you'd greet him in passing but never really approach him or anything. he would be too far attached already to approach you himself too, because he feels socially awkward. he is socially awkward. No one back at home liked him much either so his confidence isn't quite high enough to peruse you.
anyway, shoot to college. maybe....he's been like...yknow....doing his research on you since he transferred back in highschool. maybe he's doing the same degree path as you.....maybe he did some snooping to land in the same university, taking the same classes....at the same times as you.........
he's grown very smart about this tho bc like, you'd never second guess why you're always seeing that handsome guy everywhere. maybe you guys are just more alike than you could have thought. and you wouldn't grow your own little crush turned obsession until he you noticed how he ignored you.
you never saw him glance or stare. he'd brush you off any time you try to greet him, he'd always speak in class with confidence, making you feel like he's...very very very intelligent. and it's like, woah, he acts so different compared to high school. you're into him kinda....there's nothing wrong with a lil crush right?
lil crush turns HUGE crush when he ends up at all the same parties you attend. always lurking in a corner by himself looking handsome and untouchable, sometimes with other girls approaching him. these are the moments you'd catch his drunken eyes on you from time to time. Or maybe he's just catching you staring. you're not sure of yourself anymore by this point.
still he wouldn't make any moves or efforts to talk to you. little crush turns to big crush. big crush turns to you wanting to learn more about him...and learning more about him turns to you consistently checking in on his social medias that he rarely updates....asking about him around campus when you manage to land in a room where he isn't, hoping he shows up to more parties..etc.
you wouldn't realize the stalker behavior you're exhibiting til it was too late. he'd be all too fond of it though, knowing he's managed to catch your attention by giving you none at all. what a needy little doll.
It's not until you dead ass find out where he works part time and you're filling out your own application before you realize that maybe you're going a bit too far. when he ends up being there during your interview though, you're a bit too blinded by wanting to know more about him to think too hard about it.
and so, the two of you are working together, going to classes together, attending parties together...except separate. and it's driving you up a fucking wall because surely it's because he has a girlfriend right? but you never see her. you can't find any trace of someone he's with on social media. never on campus, at work, no where. so, lets say you guys end up at a party again and you really do lose it.
lots of alcohol in your system, sunghoon looming in a corner, side eyeing pretty girls who stare at him. you'd be the one staring the most, walking up to him while forgetting how to breathe, only realizing you might actually be in love with him when you try to reach for his shoulder with a brain so empty you forgot what you wanted to say. "Hm?" he'd hum at you with a raised, unbothered brow. His skin prickling at the way your shaking hand grabs at him. He calms himself through it though, having jerked off enough to the mere thought of these hands on him nightly since he met you. He knows how to calm down now. "I'm like, in love with you, maybe." You'd slur out, stupidly with an embarrassed but hopeful expression. Sunghoon's unbothered demeanor wouldn't change, but the setting would. He'd take your hand and guide you without a word, outside, into his car, and he wouldn't say a anything to you through it until he'd driven and parked somewhere entirely secluded. [He's sober btw, you make him drunk enough.] "Do you even know how much I want you?" He'd mumble so quietly you wouldn't be able to hear him over the thumping of your heart, but you stare at him, watching his lips move as he tries to speak. You watch him the whole time, feeling safe in this secluded spot with a man you've grown obsessed with. Your body reacts and moves on instinct as he sits there. You can't fucking stand being so close yet so far from him. "I don't know what you're saying to me." You'd mumble and slur out to him, far too drunk than you originally thought now that there is no loud and booming music to drown your thoughts out. "You never do." He frowns, leaning towards you and practically pinning you to your seat by energy alone. His entire body feels like it's on fire, cock twitching, heart jumping. "You want me?" You nod, breathing softly and deeply as you look at him. Of course you want him. "How bad?" He follows up. "As badly as I've wanted you?" You nod again. "You sure?" Another nod.
His eyes go vacant now as he stares at you, adjusting his body on top of yours in the cramped space of his car. You feel his nose nuzzle against your neck as he inhales deeply. He groans slightly at the scent, never able to smell you so fully except for in passing. This alone could satisfy him for life if he wanted it to. "Show me then." He nearly demands, wanting you to be the one to prove all of his work to get to this point is truly coming to fruition. Wanting you to make all of the first moves. Wanting you to do it all for him.
And, well...you do.
22 notes · View notes
morewyckedthanyou · 2 years
Text
i barely slept at all last night because i was going through possible open jobs that i could apply for and then today i have just been writing and sending out several different applications to several completely different places and now i'm exhausted 😩
4 notes · View notes
exopelagic · 3 months
Text
this election feels so hollow even though it’s likely ostensibly gonna be a good outcome. labour really just sucks fucking ass rn huh
#if the tories lose bad enough to make lib dems the opposition though… a guy can hope#I think it’s the fact that this is the first general election I can vote in that’s making me lose my mind a little here#I have done basically nothing but read today. I DO know a whole bunch more abt voting systems and the nightmare the tories have been now tho#I’m just kinda like. okay so what happens next? bc labour WILL do some decent shit but they also. fucking suck.#planning to look into the local green party once I’m back at uni bc I could actually do stuff there#I think I’m just dealing with a little bit of whiplash going from doing a biology degree where Everything is about climate change#like unambiguously it gets brought up in every topic (I DO focus on ecology and agricultural stuff and not like genetics but still)#clear consensus from literally everyone you talk to that shit has to happen right the fuck now.#it’s not even like I’m unaware of the state of policy rn I KNOW it’s a nightmare to do anything but we at least TALK about it#and then this election where it’s barely a footnote. biggest thing is the sewage dumping everyone’s talking about and yeah fucking finally#but is that all you’ve got?? the labour manifesto is bleak. it has a section and the stuff they’re proposing isn’t bad but it’s so little#and yeah no they’ve changed the official line on the manifesto to ‘make Britain a clean energy superpower’#I SWEAR it was different a few days ago#maybe I’m being pessimistic bc their plans for clean energy if they actually do them could be huge especially if they manage it by 2030.#it’s just that I know what the targets are and they’re already pulling back on shit like EVs bc of the shift right and I am So Tired#two party politics is a curse. as much as reform is an actual nightmare them getting a decent vote share might actually be the thing that#gets people talking abt proportional representation again bc they are nothing if not good at being loud#did you know we had a fucking referendum in 2011 bc what the fuck. and it went SO BADLY even though people generally supported it#god idk I think I’m once again being naively optimistic about people and election coverage has been very good at knocking me down a bit#people generally are good. I have to believe this. but man the british public is making that really fucking hard#genuinely I think a good chunk of that is down to first past the post driving politics to be divisive and aggressive#like is it the only problem? fuck no. but it’s definitely poisoning the way this shit goes bc when all the parties do is jab at each other#what are we actually doing here#idk I’m gonna stop now but this is taking up a ridiculous amount of bandwidth rn I can’t wait for it to be over#already dreading what the next election could look like in 4 years if starmer continues to suck ass bc I don’t trust him to not like at all#luke.txt#I said i was done but I just looked at the lib dem manifesto and oh my god it’s actually pretty good on this? holy fucking shit
4 notes · View notes
januaryembrs · 8 months
Text
TROUBLE ALMOST ALL MY LIFE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader
Tumblr media
Description: The ONE time the BAU needs you + the FOUR times you need them.
word count: 24k (what on earth was I thinking)
trigger warnings: mentions of spencers addictions + use + side affects. MOMMY ISSUES thankyou ambassador Prentiss. hostage scene + injuries. mentions of forced/pressured marriage. fem!reader. reader and Emily struggle to bond.
authors note: We never meet Emily's dad nor do we see a picture so while reader is given a nickname of Bugsy, she still keeps her real name (no use of y/n) and is given ZERO physical descriptors. ALL of my fem!readers should feel included here, let me know if this is not the case! also I don't speak any language besides English however she does speak many because of her mom, so I really tried to get it right, message me if I'm being stupid!!
series masterlist | next chapter
[this] means its spoken in another language.
‘trouble on my left, trouble on my right,
I’ve been facing trouble almost all my life’
1. the one where you become a translator.
“I’ll make some calls, I may still have some friends in the Eastern countries,” Ambassador Prentiss announced to the room, standing from her place on the plush sofa. 
A case had landed quite literally in Emily’s lap when her mother had come by that morning asking for Hotch, a Russian migrant looking for her father with a ransom note and a sliced off finger shoved through her mailbox, wedding ring still attached. 
It wasn’t every day Emily wished she’d brushed up on her Russian, but today of all days she was struggling to keep up. 
“We don’t have much time, we need a division of labour,” Hotch’s serious face settled, the time constraints making him just that bit more dictatorial, “Morgan, someone needs to go to the Chernus’s house in Baltimore in case they are contacted again,” 
“What about the language barrier?” Derek raised, smoothing a hand over the short scruff of his beard, “We can’t have the unsub speaking with the family directly. He could say anything to them without us knowing,” 
Bugsy would hate to admit she fit the criteria for youngest daughter of a workaholic mother and distant father to a tea, but Emily would say different. 
Elizabeth Prentiss had never been a warm woman; Emily used to tell her the scowl was a side effect of the overplucking of her eyebrows, not the serious nature of her job. Her youngest girl once said her mother’s lips looked like she’d sucked a lemon. Of course they admired her work, but world peace meant jack shit to a little girl wanting nothing more than a mother’s hug. 
Despite the fact she’d pushed away her husband and both her daughters in favour of her career, the one useful thing about being the Ambassador’s daughter wasn’t just the money, but the widespread culture the girls had been crammed full of since they could so much as beg for a sippy cup. 
“Baltimore, you say?” Emily asked Hotch with a somewhat doubtful wince, “I mean you could always-”
“Absolutely not,” Her mother cut her off, rubbing the stress lines already creasing her forehead at the very notion of her other daughter, despite the fact Emily hadn’t even finished her thought.
Emily’s sigh was a reflex, the years of her mother cutting her off sparking the frustration on instinct. 
“She lives right in the city, Mother, it can’t hurt to have her just talk for them-” Emily tried to bargain, only for the sharp mouthed Ambassador shoot her a frown. 
“End of discussion, Emily,” Elizabeth snipped, her manicured fingernails twitching with annoyance, “Your sister is much too young for an assignment so serious,”
Emily rolled her eyes with a scoff, as if the two had slipped back into the role of rebellious teenager and scathing mother without much thought. 
“She's twenty-two, mom. She’s getting her masters degree for Christ sakes, she’s not ‘too young’,” The dark headed woman fought back, clicking her pen a few times as if the spring loaded ink would take away some of the temper Elizabeth seemed to flare up. 
Her mother’s lips pursed, in the way Bugsy hated, in the way that meant she was going to be mean.
“Immature may have been a better word, then,” She replied, and Emily seemed to pause. She couldn’t argue with that. “Or perhaps lazy, or puerile; callow, wild, irresponsible. Would you like me to name more?” 
“Asinine would be a good term; deriving from the Latin asinus it not only means foolish, but to be stubborn and lazy like an ass,” Spencer input helpfully to the Ambassador, only for his bright smile to fade when he saw the daggers Emily stared at him with, “Sorry, I love word games,” He muttered into his lap. 
“Asinine. Perfect, Dr Reid,” Elizabeth said, and Emily could only roll her eyes harder.
Hotch huffed, the victim’s daughter watching between the two women’s quarrel with wet eyes, the ice box with her father’s finger clenched tightly in her lap, the cold of the limb bleeding into his own gaze.
“Unfortunately, Ambassador Prentiss, despite just how asinine your daughter might be, Morgan is right. Having the Unsub possibly speaking with the family without us understanding what he’s saying could prove fatal,” He explained, ignoring the way the older woman’s mouth scrunched in bitterness. They didn’t need to be profilers to see that despite how tempered the relationship between Emily and her mother was, a tension seemed to fall between the women the moment the younger Prentiss was mentioned. 
Spencer was sure he was the only person who even knew Emily had a little sister. 
“Very well, but don’t be surprised when you find your hands full of the girl,” Elizabeth said with a shake of her head as she led the victims, a mother and daughter that seemed to cling to one another for comfort as if to rub salt in her matriarchal wound, into the break room to get away from the frosty atmosphere that now lingered around the table.
Emily sighed, picking around her fingernails the way she did when she was bothered. 
“I’m going to hate these next words that are gonna come out of my mouth,” She started with a long exhale, “But my mother’s right. Bugsy is a handful. Just try not to get her wound up, that girl smells fear,” She looked to Reid who seemed none the wiser, “I’m talking to you, wonder boy. She’ll eat you up and spit you right back out,” 
Spencer gulped quietly. 
Derek only chuckled, slapping a hand down onto Emily’s shoulder, “Relax, Prentiss. Your mom’s just got you all worried. Need I remind you I grew up with two sisters? This will be a piece of cake,”
Those were the famous last words of Derek Morgan. 
Loud, heavy metal music jumped through the wooden door, so loud Morgan worried his three polite knocks would go unheard as the two of them waited outside her dorm for her to answer. Morgan was about to knock again, figuring the music had drowned out the first lot, when the door swung open and a frown the spitting image of Emily’s stressed expression met their gaze. 
She looked so different to their Prentiss, but the way she seemed already scorned by the two of them told them they had the right woman. 
“Miss Prentiss?” Morgan asked formally, though he felt the warmth grow when he caught sight of a beat up friendship bracelet around her wrist amongst newer gold chains, five white blocks spelling out her sister’s name pulling tight on her skin, as if she’d quickly outgrown the thing but hadn’t the heart to remove it. 
It was then that he and Reid seemed to both reel back slightly at the fact she was standing in a large shirt, ratty around the edges, and what seemed to be a pair of men's boxers covering her bottom half, clearly not suspecting particularly important visitors. 
She looked him head to toe with a frown, a dozen piercings in her ears, her hair highlighted with streaks of cardinal red, as if he was the one confronting her in his underwear, before she moved onto Spencer, who’s face seemed to be getting hotter by the second as he forced his eyes away from her bare legs. 
“Are you guys strippers? Did someone send strippers to my door?” She asked, strawberry gum smacking between her lips as her gaze seemed to finish mulling over Spencer’s tall form and returned to Morgan.
“Emily sent us.” Reid said shortly, the music blaring in his ears making it difficult to focus on what it was she was saying, “As co-workers, no-not strippers. We’re with the FBI,” 
He hated loud noises anyway, cringed at the sound of particularly cutting rock songs, but since he’d developed his … problem, the dilaudid had him feeling like someone was clawing at his skull, tugging his brain through his ears.
“Emily sent you here?” She asked with a scoff, looking the two up and down again. They both easily caught the way her face hardened, “Are pigs flying today or something?” 
“We’re here to ask for your help on a case,” Spencer rushed through a sweaty brow, “Emily said you’d be able to act as a translator for us and some Russian citizens who are being targeted,” 
She sighed sceptically, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame, “Any strippers or non-strippers can fraud an ID. Emily’s name was in the paper just the other week. I’m gonna need a little more than that,”
She keeps track of her sister despite the supposed distance between them. Spencer was quick to profile, his mind whirring at all the ways she reminded him of her sister down to the way she raised her eyebrows expectantly at them. 
“Emily was born October twelfth, 1970 at 7:12am, graduated from Garfield High School in 1989,” Spencer said as if reporting the weather, her eyes narrowing in on him all the more coldly, “She attended Chesapeake Bay University and speaks six languages, as I expect you do from moving so often with your mother. She coined your nickname Bugsy from your childhood love of ladybugs, which she said you grew out of by the time you turned eleven yet the name stuck, though you still like counting the spots to identify their species. Your parents split when you were five and your father moved in with his now wife, born September ninth-”
“Alright- alright. What are you, living in her walls?” She interrupted incredulously, before turning her attention to Derek who seemed to hide a chuckle with a cough. “Either you really are a stripper or you’re a terrible friend,”
“She loves Kurt Vonnegut,” Derek held his finger as if to prove her entirely wrong, although not much else came to him. Maybe he was a bad friend, he thought guiltily, or maybe he simply lacked an eidetic memory like the wonder boy next to him, who had been about to tell her how old she was when Emily’s pet betta fish died, “Slaughterhouse 5?”
Rolling her eyes, she grunted at them, kicking her door open for them to enter. 
“Everyone loves Vonnegut; only losers under a rock dislike Vonnegut,” She drawled, edging back into her room, the heavy bass rock growing in volume as they followed her in, “I’ll be ready in a second- Emily’s always bugging me about wearing pants,” She said vaguely, scanning around the dirty dorm, until she found one particular pair of jeans laying half under her bed, quickly yanking them up her legs. “Come in, come in.” 
She flicked the speakers way down to which Spencer took a breath of relief. His eyes fell to the laptop that had been set up on her desk, the five different textbooks littered around the spare space, energy drinks and empty mugs filling the cracks where he could barely see the generic white of the table top, his nose crinkling. About as gross as he’d expect from a college student. 
“Emily said your Russian was pretty good,” Derek made conversation, his eyes wandering over the various posters plastered over her walls, some fraying round the edges from where she had likely been moved from bedroom to bedroom when the Prentiss’s inevitably had to move country again. 
“Yeah,” She snarked, pulling a nicer top over her head, “Kinda tends to happen when you live in Russia,”
Morgan raised his eyebrows to Spencer who seemed to give him the same look back, though the latter was biting back a snicker at her words. 
How in the hell was she the Ambassador’s daughter?
“This all involves Russian Mafia, it’s really beefed up here the last ten years or so,” Agent Cramer, a tall, slim man who looked entirely overwhelmed by the workload on his shoulders reported, as she listened intently. 
She had been somewhat de-briefed in the car, Emily messaging her for the first time since Christmas, the message a simple: “Have you met with Morgan and Reid yet? Make sure to put on pants,” to which she sent her a thumbs up emoji. She didn’t have much to say to her at the moment, barely even knew her sister anymore. 
“It started off mainly in New York and LA but they send lieutenants from the old country,” Cramer went on, and she caught Reid scratching his arm beneath his shirt. She knew it was mozzy weather, and he was already under the blaring sun in a little sweater, it wouldn’t surprise her if he felt a bit prickly. 
“Pahkans,” She interrupted, the man named Gideon shooting her a glance as she dug through her purse. 
“Your Mom do much work about the Mafia?” He asked, as she produced a clear nail varnish. 
“Here and there, I had to sit with her in her office for a whole Summer once when I got caught sneaking out. Picked up a few things, though,” She said, holding the polish out to Spencer, nodding to his arm, “Here. Supposed to help bug bites,”
He looked at her as if he wanted to say something, perhaps question her sources for such an old wives tale, but he stopped himself quickly, taking the varnish out of her hand with a dejected nod. 
“Thankyou,” He muttered, shoving it in his pocket. 
Three months he’d been in this rabbit hole. She had noticed it in a matter of hours. 
“They open up branch offices in other cities. Baltimore, Saint Louis, Chicago, Dallas, the list goes on,” Cramer added, nodding at her words, “They’re mainly offshoots of the Odessa Mafia and they’re especially tough to crack from a law enforcement standpoint. I mean beside being well organised with sophisticated technical equipment, there’s Vory v Zakone to contend with,” 
“The thieves code, eighteen principles they live by,” Reid jumped in before she could, to which she nodded as Gideon looked to her for more. 
“It means ‘thief in law’, or ‘thief with code’. It's a system of repeatedly jailed convicts that have been crowned or ‘made’ with a strict list of ideals, breaking them usually means death,” She explained, kicking a stone between her feet. 
“It’s like bible to these guys. We’re not gonna be turning any of them informer anytime soon,” Cramer said. Gideon seemed to tune the three of them out however, his gaze locking on the house across the street, where a curtain twitched, and a man’s face appeared in the window, watching the crime scene with guilt. 
“Then we’ll need a witness who will talk,” Gideon replied, heading straight towards the neighbour who seemed just a little too invested in what was happening, much more than a concerned third party should be. Though, she had barely noticed, digging through her purse once more for chapstick. 
“So, you study Russian or something?” Cramer asked as she applied it gently, Spencer swore he could smell the cherry flavour from where he stood beside her. 
“I lived in Moscow until I was six, moved back to France, then back to Italy, then Algeria for a bit. Bounced around Europe for a bit longer, but I still speak better Russian than anything else,” She clarified, and she saw Cramer’s eyebrows shoot up, “Military brat except I don’t get the cool discount at the store,” 
“You must have had a lot of friends though, going to so many schools,” Spencer added, and though there was nothing teasing about his tone, she laughed sharply anyway. 
“You’re funny,” She snarked, but smiled at him anyway.
Spencer had never been called funny in his life. ‘Funny looking’, ‘funny sounding’ maybe, but never funny. 
In fact he was so confused by what she had meant, whether it had been a taunt or genuine that he almost missed the sound of the whole street locking their front doors, dead bolting their lives away when a black prius, an expensive one at that, pulled through the street and swerved into park next to them. 
“Guess who,” Cramer bit, her eyes ripping away from where Gideon had the door slammed in his face. 
Detective Cramer aged by about five years when two tall men got out of the luxury car, opening the door for a shorter man in the back seat, their faces thunder. 
“You familiar with them?” She asked, shoulder brushing against Spencer as she turned to watch the men approach, entirely aware of the .9mm on each of their hips. 
“Arseny Lysowsky,” The detective identified, his voice cold, eyeing the two men who flanked the leader, towering over them. 
“Agent Cramer, how are you?” Lysowsky smiled at him, which oddly enough seemed somewhat real, as he also took stock of the three other people around him. His eyes lingered on her for a moment, noting her lack of gun and badge, trying to decipher if she was local or just a very unprepared fed. 
“Lysowsky, what brings you out?” Cramer asked, a tightness to his tone, his hand all too eager to grab his own pistol. 
“I heard Chernuses had problems,” He kept it vague, didn’t reveal too much, and looked back at the victim’s house with a scorned frown. 
“How did you hear that?” Gideon challenged, stance unwavering as the mob leader turned to meet his cold gaze. 
“And you are?” He asked, a sinister smile on his face that flipped her stomach. She didn’t like the tension that had overcome the little patch of sidewalk they took up, and she was quick to notice how Spencer moved towards her. 
He, by far, wasn’t the best shot on the team, but he was sure Hotch and Prentiss would have his and Morgan’s heads if any harm came to her. 
“Churneses said they hadn’t told anyone,” Agent Gideon ignored his question, hands firmly planted on his hips. If he was unnerved by the criminal in front of him, he never showed it, not even when Lysowsky’s grin widened horribly. 
“It is a small community. Word gets out,” He said simply, looking past him to the neighbours house that had kicked Gideon to the curb, “Are you a friend of Gorban’s?”
A second of silence passed between them, neither of them backing down from the moral standoff they’d engaged in. 
“Mr Gorban wouldn’t talk to me,” Gideon admitted, and Arseny only smiled again, flicking a look at the house behind him, as if hearing his dog had obeyed without command. 
“Would you like me to talk to him for you?” The threat was there clear as day, clear enough to have Gideon’s eyes narrow, “I can’t promise something will come of it,” 
“You!” In a second, Natalya, the victim she’d briefly met when Morgan had pulled up around an hour before, had stormed out of her house, her black kitten heels clicking against the concrete, “Where’s my father? He has my father!” 
“Wait a minute,” Derek called, restraining her where she stood, trying to pull his muscled arm from her shoulder, “Do you know he has your father?” 
“He’s responsible for all of this,” She spat, her eyes cold as she glared at the three men with vitriol hate, “Why everyone’s afraid, him and his animals,” She threw a hand up to his bodyguards that seemed barely contained by Cramer’s silencing hand. 
“I am only here to help,” Lysowsky replied, confident and calm in his words, though not as taunting as the agents would have thought, as if he truly cared for her.
A vast difference to the sadistic mob boss Cramer’s team had painted him to be. 
“Help?” She laughed woefully, tears in her eyes, “You’re a dog,” 
“Natalya,” Arseny said in a warning, the way a teacher would to a student, as her breath rattled in her chest through a weep. 
“How exactly can you help them?” Bugsy braved to speak, Gideon and Reid both flashing her a look. She’d always had trouble holding her tongue. 
Lysowsky turned his attention to her then, his eyes running down her figure, still deciphering whether she was armed; she looked much too young to be an agent. 
“In any way that they’d like me to, darling,” He replied, the disdain in her frown clearly not deterring him in the slightest, though again the act of concern held up in his own grimace, “As I said this is a small community. If one is in pain, we’re all in pain.”
Natalya weeped behind Morgan, sniffling as the boss made his way over to her, “Natalya, [you didn’t have to bring in outsiders],” 
The younger woman’s ears pricked up as he spoke in his native language, Spencer’s eyes flicking to her from behind his sunglasses. 
“[Let me help you],” He continued, taking a step towards Natalya, unthreatening yet she saw Morgan tense, his fingers twitching towards his gun. 
“[My family will never come to you for help],” Natalya hissed back, also in Russian, her face contorted in disgust, “[Get away from my house],” 
“[You are not right, Natalya],” He replied, yet again the concern in his eyes was either genuine or very well faked, “[You have made the wrong decision],” 
Taking a step away from the victim that wept with a scorned sneer, he looked back to the agents, noting the way the youngest of them glared at him hotly, before retreating to his car. 
“What did he say? Did he threaten you, Natalya?” Morgan asked, the woman watching the group of men drive away, as if Mr Chernus wasn’t still missing and they hadn’t just bumped themselves up to number one of the suspects list. “Talk to us and we can do something about it,”
“He said I made the wrong decision,” She said wetly, frustration turning on Derek as he pushed her for an answer, “I hope I didn’t,” 
With that she stormed off back into her house, the same stomping of her kitten heels in her wake, leaving the agents to all look between one another before they simultaneously turned to look at Bugsy, questions hovering on all of their lips. 
“What did he say exactly?” Gideon asked without frills, a hand rubbing his brow. Relaying the information, the men’s faces all drew into frowns as they heard Lysowsky’s parting statement. Gideon huffed, turning to Morgan and gesturing for him to follow Natalya inside. 
“Morgan, keep an eye on her, Reid and I are going to Cramer’s office to look over the files,” He looked at her then, worry lines littering his otherwise friendly face, damn near scowling as she looked over at him, “You are here to interpret, you understand? You do not speak to the suspects, that’s our job.” He growled, watching her with disappointment, the same tone a father used when scolding a petulant child, “Do you have any idea how much danger you could put yourself in? These guys won’t hesitate to take you out the second we’re not around, kid,” 
“But-” She started with a bite, though her whole fight left her when he silenced her with a raised hand. 
“Buts are for cigarettes, kiddo,” He interrupted, and Spencer winced slightly, knowing he’d heard that one a few hundred times when he’d first started under Gideon and had yet to mature entirely. Reid watched something rebellious flare in her eyes, and he worried for a moment she might just slap his boss for the patronising tone he took, “Just keep your mouth shut, you’re doing great so far,” 
She opened her mouth to protest, only to then register his words entirely and stay silent once more, appreciating his praise with a guilty smile. For once, she listened. 
The grandfather clock chimed to tell them it was merely 11am; two hours until the unsub would start cutting more if they didn’t get the ransom fee, two hours to figure out who wanted Natalya’s family to suffer. 
Said woman paced her living room at the sound of the hour, as Bugsy picked over the knick knacks on her fireplace, a small smile teasing her lips when she saw a picture of three small children grinning toothily at the camera. 
She had never gotten any photo’s similar, Emily being fourteen years older. The majority of their childhood photos consisted of a very grumpy teenager holding her baby sister that seemed to squirm in the tight, formal dresses Elizabeth Prentiss had forced them into, identical scowls on their faces as they were made to sit for the picture. 
There were some good memories, ones where Emily let herself be a sister and not a mom, where she would put makeup on her for fun and do her hair, let her have all the clothes out her wardrobe she thought looked nice, reading to her before bed, even letting her sister keep her pet corn snake when she left home for good. 
But now, it seemed like she was too caught up in her super serious grown up job to give a shit that her sister lived just an hour away. Still messaged each other for holidays, but the last few times she’d braved a call to the eldest Prentiss, it had gone unanswered. They argued the majority of the time they spoke, or there was an awkward long silence in between words, whichever was worse, but they each knew the other would come running if they were to ever need them so desperately. 
“Are you hungry? I could make something?” Natalya offered kindly, Derek having a poke through her collection of books that sat on the end table, though he’d have a tough job reading them as she’d already caught most of them were in her home language. 
“Oh, no thanks. I’m fine,” He replied with a small smile, putting down the books to calm the clearly on edge woman that looked to the twenty-something year old hopefully. 
She shook her head, “I’m good, thanks,” which seemed to deflate her entirely as she sat next to Derek with a sigh.
“I guess I’m like my mother. When she’s upset, she cooks,” Natalya said with a sad huff of a laugh, running a hand through her short, dark hair. 
“Yeah, mine does too. I think that’s just a mom thing,” He replied, and Bugsy felt the two of them look at her as her finger traced the old brass ornaments gently, “How about you, baby Prentiss?” 
She snorted, “You’re kidding, right?” smiling bitterly, “My mom never cooked for us, she said we needed to figure it out for ourselves rather than relying on the staff. Didn’t stop her from trying to end world hunger though,” 
It wasn’t lost to Morgan the way her eyes trained on the picture of Natalya and her mother, cuddled together with genuine love in their embrace, the snarky humour as she spoke, the same longing Emily seemed almost too good at hiding from them. 
“Your mother is a great woman,” Natalya complimented, though she missed the way the girl’s face steeled over, chewing her bottom lip as if to stop herself from snapping at the woman who meant well. She said nothing. “Where is your mother?” She turned her attention back to Derek who seemed the more talkative of the two of them. 
“Chicago. That’s where I’m from,” He replied, watching Bugsy turn away from the two of them to inspect more of the Chernus’s trinkets on their walls. 
“I’m from Dolgoprudny. Just North of Moscow.” Natalya replied. Opening her mouth to add something else, she was cut off by a knock at the door and the three of them froze in their place. 
“Are you expecting someone?” Morgan asked Natalya in a hushed tone, reaching for his gun and heading for the door. 
She shook her head, “No,” She whispered back. Morgan pulled the curtain back the smallest inch to see a small blonde boy staring back, a box in his hands and a bored look on his face. 
It all happened too fast from there, Natalya opening the door for the neighbourhood kid, opening the box to see a decapitated ear, the blood fresh and pooling in the bottom of the box. It couldn’t have been taken longer than an hour or so ago, unless they were keeping the parts on ice. 
Bugsy’s hand slapped over her mouth, Natalya’s scream piercing through her as she shoved the box into Derek’s hands, fleeing to the toilet, and she heard the woman retching. Part of her felt the same nausea settle in her stomach, looking away from the body part with a wince as Derek got straight on the phone to Gideon. 
“They didn’t wait, man. They sent a box with-” He swallowed thickly, “With Mr Chernus’s ear inside.”
Gideon replied, and whatever it was, it had Derek looking back to her. He agreed, hanging up the phone and rooting through his pockets, producing a set of rattling keys, holding them out for you between the tips of his fingers. 
“Gideon wants you, kid. He said they’re at the Little Kiev restaurant, they’re going to talk to Lysowsky,” Morgan said, grimacing as he held the ear away from her, “You sure you’ll be okay to drive?” 
“I’d rather be on the road than look at what’s in that box,” She said in disgust, taking the keys and heading out to the car.
She thought it best for everyone she didn’t tell him she hadn’t yet got her licence as she made her way over to the restaurant. 
-
“Reid and I will do the talking, just see if anything he’s saying connects with Vory v zakone, think you got that?” Gideon instructed her the second she got out of the car, taking the keys and handing them back to Reid who gave her a small nod. 
“We think the reason it was Mr Chernus who was targeted has something to do with the code,” Reid explained, his hands in his pockets as the three of them approached the restaurant, “You said earlier you understood the tenants,” 
“Why me, though? I thought I was just translating?” She repeated Gideon’s earlier words, almost cocky that they needed her.
“Lysowsky would feel the need to show face in front of men like Morgan and Cramer, even in front of Natalya since she lives locally. Between the three of us, he had less reputation to uphold, less so with a young woman like yourself,” Reid added, holding the door open for her to go in front. 
And so there she was, trailing behind Gideon and Reid over to where Lysowsky sipped a spoonful of borscht, as she tried not to marvel at the grandeur of the establishment inside. Clearly, Arsney had money to build a place like this, and wasn’t afraid to be flashy about it either, that much was apparent from the other clientele that tended to their beers around their own tables, Rolex watches and designer shoes adorning nearly every one of them. She hated to think of how many ears or fingers those suits had cost. 
“Would you like something to eat?” He asked, a chunk of bread in his hand dipping into the thick sauce, seemingly unbothered that they were there, “This borscht is exquisite, it’s my mother’s old country recipe,” 
“Didn’t you forsake all your relatives when you swore the thieves code?” Reid asked, which she guessed was hit foot in to get Lysowsky to talk. 
“I didn’t forsake her recipes,” Lysowsky replied with a shrug, looking to her where she seemed to be staring at his plate, “Borscht?” 
She shook her head, her nose wrinkling, “Much preferred stroganoff, mom used to force me to have borscht to make sure I ate my veggies,”  
His eyebrows raised, surprise written over his face, before he gave a short laugh. 
“[Where are you from]?” He asked in his mother tongue, gesturing for the three of them to sit down, though his eyes lit up as he watched her carefully. 
“[I was born in DC, but my mother worked in Moscow for a few years],” She answered shortly, and he seemed to find it even funnier that the near child they’d brought along on their case spoke as fluently as he did. 
Laughing with a heavy hand smacking on the table, he gestured to a nearby waiting staff to come over. 
“What are you having then, borscht for the gentle man?” He looked at Reid and Gideon, the former shaking his head while Gideon nodded with an awkward smile. 
“I’d love a taste,” He said, though any enthusiasm seemed to have drained out of his voice. 
“And what is the little lady having?” Lysowsky asked, his eyes falling back to her, as she straightened in her seat. 
She chanced a quick glance to Gideon, who nodded at her to play his game. She had not expected to be so deep in criminal territory when they’d said they needed a translator, and truly they hadn’t planned on getting her in the field until they realised she would know much more about this than they would.
“Do you have sharlotka?” She asked, returning his smile wearily as he clicked at the waiter who all but bolted to the kitchen. 
“A sweet tooth. I like it,” Arseny replied, shovelling a heap of beets into his mouth, “Our favourite was always Leningradsky,”
“Ours?” She prompted, giving a polite thanks to the waiter who returned too quickly with a slice of cake. She caught Spencer glancing at the bowl with intrigue, the hunger clear on the quiet man’s face. Gently pushing the bowl and clean spoon towards him, he flicked a look up at her, “Apple cake,” She whispered, sending him a small smile, “Really yummy with the sugar on top,” 
“Mine and my mother’s,” Arseny replied, though Gideon and Reid both caught how he paused before he replied, as if he had to think about the answer he was giving; the oldest tell that it wasn’t entirely true, “We didn’t have much when I was a boy, but that was always our dessert of choice,” 
She stopped for a mere second, missing the moment when Spencer spooned the tiniest bite of the cake into his mouth, trying to ignore the way his tongue exploded in the sweet, fruit taste. He hadn’t eaten anything properly in days, and maybe that was why it tasted so good, but more likely it was just the fact that everything sweet tasted even better when he was on his come downs. 
“We need to talk, Arseny,” Gideon interrupted, ignoring the way Spencer pined to go back in for a second mouthful, but chose to hand the bowl back to her with a small smile. 
“We are on first name basis?” Lysowsky asked, shaking his head, and she took a small bite of the sweet cake for herself, “I still don’t even know who you are,” 
“I think I understand something about this,” Gideon replied, his thumbs tapping together, the waiter returning with his borscht, “You have a problem,” 
“I do?” The pahkan titled his head at the agent, the annoyance clear on his face. 
“That’s why you came to the Chernus’ house this morning,” Gideon answered, unbothered as he began to scoop the borscht onto the spoon, the apple cake in her own mouth going down a treat. 
She kept her head down, took tiny bites of the dessert that certainly tasted like a fresh baked sharlotka. But her thoughts lingered on what Lysowsky had said, about his own favourite pudding. 
It made no sense that he would have ever tasted Leningradsky shortbread, not for the time that he was born, nor with the amount of money he claimed his family lacked. Infact, the way he fully pronounced his vowels, the akanye, the stress he put on certain parts of his words, all pointed to the same dialect you’d heard back in Moscow, more central than anything else. 
So how on earth would he have eaten the so-called ‘Royal Cake’ that had only been made eight hours from there, in the town it grew its name from. 
There was something glaringly obvious about his story missing. 
“A man like me?” She tuned back into the conversation, swallowing another mouthful down as Gideon took another bite himself, though it seemed the topic had turned sour as Arseny wiped his mouth with the corner of his napkin. 
“Four watchtowers and a convict signifies a stay in prison,” Spencer cut in, nodding towards the tattoos branded across his knuckles, “Each one of those crosses symbolises an individual sentence,” 
“Twenty three years in prison in the Ural mountains,” 
But she was still stuck on what it was she was missing. It had been such an odd thing to lie about, particularly when he’d even admitted himself that they hadn’t had much money, so he clearly hadn’t been lying to fake a reputation. 
So why lie?
She was ripped out of her stumped silence when Natalya entered the restaurant, her voice grabbing the men’s attention immediately. 
“Mr Lysowsky. You said you could help me,” She said, her purse over her shoulder and her own car keys gripped tightly in her hand as if she’d all but thrown herself out the vehicle to get there faster. 
“Don’t you already have help,” Lysowsky snapped, clearly Gideon had dug under his skin enough to garner a reaction. 
“I made a mistake,” Natalya replied, barely meeting Bugsy’s gaze as she stared at her from her seat at the table. “I talked to my father on the phone,” 
The girl frowned at her, “That’s a lie,” It came out before she could hold herself, brows furrowed at whatever it was she was trying to pull. Gideon said her name in a reprimand, though he too was looking at the woman as if she’d grown a second head. 
“Thankyou for coming, but I don’t need your help,” The woman met her confused look with a saddened expression, nodding to her solemnly. 
Leave it alone, she seemed to be saying, there’s nothing more I want you to do. 
And with that, the two of them left the restaurant, Natalya walking by his side obediently, her purse tucked in close under her arm, as Morgan and Cramer filed in from the parking lot, watching their only leads drive away without a fight. 
The team were quick to head back to Natalya’s home, only to find the ear missing and the finger gone too, the only evidence left of any crime being committed leaving with the victim’s daughter herself. 
“She’s not here, and the garbage was never taken out,” Morgan said with a grimace as he walked down the front steps to meet the four of them on the sidewalk. 
“Her dad just went missing, surely we can cut the girl some slack-” Bugsy words were hidden in a huff, rolling your eyes at the man who cut a glance to her. 
“No, no. When Hotch first talked to us, he said she noticed her father’s car in the driveway when she took the garbage out,” Morgan explained, his shades blocking the way the cogs turned behind his dark eyes. 
“Right?” Reid asked, his own sunglasses now covering his eyes that winced at the brightness, surrounding them.
“Garbage can in the kitchen is completely full, she never took it out.” 
“She lied,” Gideon said with finality, the penny beginning to drop for him too. 
“She could be half way back to Dolgo-whatever by now,” Morgan scoffed, his arms smacking against his side as the lightbulb went off over her head, the final puzzle piece falling into place. 
“Dolgoprudny?” Spencer asked, exchanging a glance with Cramer, “Isn’t that where Lysowsky’s from-”
“Yes, YES, of course!” She exclaimed, grabbing onto Spencer’s arm as he spoke. 
He looked at her with wide eyes, not that she could see since his shades blocked the way, only to feel her shake him harder in the midst of her enthusiasm. Part of him wanted to rip his arm out of her grip, waiting for the sickness to crawl up his throat at a strangers germs touching him, but the oddest part of him reasoned she had the same germs as Emily did, that the fifty percent DNA the women shared negated the fact she was a stranger, just as it did when he met Jack. Jack had Hotch germs. Bugsy had Emily’s. He didn’t feel so sick thinking of it like that. 
“I knew I was missing something,” She said, turning to Gideon, “He was lying before, about his favourite dessert. There was no way he could have had Leningradsky with his mother. Given his age, at that time in Soviet Russia, shortbread was incredibly expensive, only extremely wealthy families could have eaten it. That, and given the Central dialect he speaks in, I’d pinpointed he lives somewhere near or around Moscow, which means there was no way he was eating that cake considering it was only ever baked in one shop at first, one way up in Leningrad, where St Petersburg is now, like nine hours away from Moscow-” 
“What’s your point?” Cramer asked, tired of the somewhat slew of thoughts she’d been saving until she knew for sure what she meant. 
“Before when he said it was ‘our favourite’, I don’t think he was talking about him and his mother,” She explained, looking to see if Spencer at least understood what she was getting at. 
“It was him and his own child…” Spencer finished, as Morgan’s phone began ringing.
“Yeah, what?” He asked, the frustration clear in his tone that they were all still without the evidence needed to pin it on Lysowsky, “You’re sure? Uh-huh. Okay, thanks doll,” 
The four of them looked at him expectantly as he nodded to her, “Garcia just got into the bank’s system, somebody wired 500 thousand dollars into the account ten minutes ago,”
“Who wired it?” Spencer asked, though he was still reeling from the way she’d touched him, the way her voice went up about five octaves and a dozen decibels.
“She didn’t say, but the name on the account is Lyov Fulenko. She says that’s Lysowsky’s wife’s maiden name. Fulenko.” Morgan replied, and her brows furrowed. 
“Why did she bring us into this?” Gideon asked, though the solemn look on his face said he already knew, “Because she needed to put pressure on the other victim,” 
Gideon headed towards Mr Gorban’s house once more, though it was clear he had already sketched out in his head who was their unsub and Natalya’s involvement, he simply needed the confirmation. 
Morgan clapped a hand on her back, “Nice job, baby Prentiss. Those were some mean profiling skills out there,”
She frowned at him, scoffing,  “I’m not a profiler, that’s Emily’s job. It was just basic linguistics really; more a display of how I need to lay off cake for a while.”
The man kissed his teeth with a grin, “Don’t put yourself down. What’s your degree even in?”
She shrugged, picking under her nails for something to do, “Individualised genomics and health.” She said as if it were child’s play, though Spencer’s head shot to her. 
“Biotechnology?” He asked, and she glanced at him with a nod, “What’s your thesis on?” 
Gideon had returned by the time he’s asked, and began corralling the two of them back to the car, “We’re heading back to the restaurant. We need to speak with Lysowsky again,” 
But it had fallen on deaf ears as Spencer looked at her expectantly. 
“Just some new research into prenatal screening, nothing too fun,” She simpered, climbing into the back seat as he nodded with her. 
“I read a fascinating paper on the uses of hCG in a woman’s body-” 
“Reid,” Gideon cut him off with a short glance from the front seat, “Continue this conversation once we’ve found Mr Chernus alive,” 
Spencer blushed, feeling like a kid caught in the cookie jar, “Sorry, sir,” He looked over at her, only to see her hiding a smile to herself. 
He thinks it was then he’d decided Emily had been wrong about her.
-
“You paid the ransom already,” Gideon said plainly, the four of them trailing behind him as he followed Lysowsky to a small seating area in the front of the restaurant. She could tell the whole way Spencer had been itching to ask her more questions about her paper, barely contained as his fingers had twitched in his lap, but he seemed to straighten himself out once she’d reached the restaurant, “You paid all the ransoms,”
“Sit,” The boss ordered, barely glancing at them as he held his strong whiskey up.
“Are they going to kill Mr Chernus?” Morgan asked, cutting to the chase as Lysowsky spared him a bored glance.
“No,” He replied shortly, the look on his face about as grumpy as when they’d left. 
“The account is in the name of Lyov Fulenko. Lyov is a man’s name.” Spencer input, crossing his arms as the boss glared at him, “A son’s name. Vory v Zakone. Never have a family of your own. No wife. No children.”
“Lyov,” He looked at her then, gesturing to her with the glass of strong liquor, “You know what it means?”
“The Lion,” She replied gravely, steeling herself against his dark eyes. 
“No one else would be so stupid,” Lysowsky ran a hand over his weathered face, swigging his drink as if it was the only thing keeping him talking. “At first it didn’t mean much. It was a way of letting him earn his own money. I could afford it, it came from the fund. And no one questions the use of the fund-”
“Where is he?” Gideon asked, his elbows on his knees as he leaned in.
“What else could I do?” He was ignored, “I couldn’t admit I wasn’t blessing the kidnappings, I couldn’t even admit my son existed.” He huffed when he saw Gideon’s face unmoving from the glower, his question still unanswered, “Chernus will be home in a few minutes. You should be there, he will need medical attention,” He shooed them away, with his final words, drink sloshing in his hand. His face darkened, impossibly so, and the five of them looked at him, something sad and remorseful shining back. 
“What are you gonna do?” She asked, though she had a feeling she already knew the answer. 
“Vory v Zakone.” He said heavily, nodding to her, “We take care of our own troubles.”
It was a silent journey back to the Chernus’ house. 
-
Morgan and Reid pulled up to the campus, the younger girl in the back seat almost dozing off with the rhythmic hum of the engine, the evening sun much nicer on Spencer’s sensitive eyes. 
“This is you, baby Prentiss,” Derek’s voice jolted her out of the half sleep she was in, straightening herself from where she had her head pressed against the window. 
“Thanks,” She muttered, rubbing her eyes and unbuckling herself as they did the same, assuming they wanted to walk her back to her dorm since it had gotten dark, “I’ll be okay on my own, campus security should be out by now,”
“You sure?” Reid asked, flicking his watch up to his eyes to see the meagre 6:13pm staring back at him, “I thought they started at 7,”
She blinked at him, her eyebrows quirking for a moment, “How do you know that?”
“Johns Hopkins was my backup option- well actually it was my third, I much preferred Caltech’s curriculum, Yale was my second-” He started, flicking a glance to her where she waited for him to finish, “Not that Johns was bad, there were just better- alternative options out there-” 
“Don’t shit your pants, I’m hardly the dean of the university,” She chuckled indignantly patting them both on the shoulder before sliding over to open the door, “Nice meeting you both, I’ll just get back to my mediocre college with my poor curriculum, nothing like the solid gold bathrooms at Caltech-”
“I never said that!” She laughed again, with her whole chest, at his defensive tone as she stepped out the car, hand on the door to shut it behind her. 
Leaning down to give them both a wave goodbye, Derek’s voice stopped her again, “Baby Prentiss, do us all a favour and enrol yourself into forensics, we need more people on our team,”
Smirking at him, she shook her head, “Very funny. Never gonna happen. I like my little slides and samples, thankyou,” 
Slamming the door on the two of them she headed for the front gates, swinging her purse over her shoulder. She was stopped by a hand on her shoulder, and she quickly realised she’d been too tired to even realise a set of footsteps jogging after her. 
Maybe she should have taken that walk home after all. 
Whirling around, her eyes widened as Spencer had clearly not been leader of the track team as he was half out of breath just from the few feet he’d covered, though she reckoned she could have guessed that seeing his lean ribs beneath his shirt.
He shoved a business card in her face as he caught his breath, though it was more just his name and credentials followed by a phone number. 
“I-I don’t have email otherwise I would-” He huffed, scratching his forehead as she frowned and looked at him.
“I’ve never been hit on via business card before,” She bit her lip with a smile, reading over the card again as he choked on his words even more than before.
“N-no, I-” He spluttered, ignoring the way Morgan beeped the horn for him, seemingly in a debate with a ticket metre that had caught him parked on yellow, “If you needed us for anything, or if you needed a second pair of eyes for your thesis, I’m happy to help,”
“You don’t have faith in the dummy that got into Johns?” She asked, and his head couldn’t shake fast enough, though he seemed to catch her teasing and shared her smile, “Thanks, Dr Reid,” 
“Spencer’s just fine,” He said, giving her a small nod and a wave as Morgan’s palm bounced on the horn a dozen times. She flashed him one more smile, pocketing his number and heading back to her dorm, wondering what the doctor would think about the paper due in tomorrow she’d yet to get started on.
+1. The one where you get arrested.
The case had been heavy. They’d felt it in the car on the way back to headquarters. A little girl, molested and groomed by her own uncle, his own wife covering for him. 
His mother always told him love makes you do crazy things, but Spencer hoped that whatever part of him worth loving would at least stay sane by the time he found the one. He was loyal to his team, to his mother, but that was where he drew the line. He was loyal to his family, undoubtedly so. 
Yet so was Emily. 
The call came to the second SUV, her phone set up to hands free mode, quickly flicking to answer the call on speaker, the other half of the team ahead of them on the freeway. 
“Prentiss, speaking. Who is this?” She spoke clearly to the unknown number, her knuckles going white at the wheel when she heard a nervous laugh.
“It’s me,” Her sister mumbled through the speaker, “You wouldn’t by any chance be near DC would you?” 
She huffed, cursing the knack Prentiss women had for showing up at the worst times. 
“Can’t this wait, I’m on the clock,” Emily hissed, her finger edging towards the ‘End Call’ button, “I’ll call you after,”
“Wait, wait, don’t hang up!” As if sensing her movements, she all but screeched, “This was my one phone call, they won’t let me have another,” 
The car went silent for a moment, Spencer’s eyes narrowing on the dash from his place in the passenger seat, JJ also leaning forward from the back with a frown. 
Emily grit her teeth, her upper lip twitching the way it did when she was mad. 
“What do you mean by one phone call? Where are you?” She bit in a cautious tone, though knowing how reckless Bugsy tended to be, she had a pretty good idea. 
The hesitation on the other end of the line was palpable, as was the way she awkwardly cleared her throat. 
“Fairfax County Jail,” She murmured sheepishly, “But it wasn’t my fault, these assholes don’t know what they’re talking about, I swear-”
“Stay there and keep your mouth shut,” Emily ordered, her expression furrowing into a sneer, “And for the love of god don’t antagonise the officers,” 
The agent didn’t even wait for a response, knowing it would probably be something snarky, her mind already racing at what the hell her sister could have done this time, every worst possible explanation jumping to the forefront. 
“I’ll call Hotch and tell him to turn around,” JJ offered, her fingers already searching her contacts for their boss, as Emily sighed through her nose. 
“Tell him not to worry, I’ll drop you guys back to headquarters, make my way there myself,” She said, picking the skin of her nail softly with her thumb. 
“By the time we’ve reached Quantico, visiting times will be over and she’ll have to stay the night,” Spencer pointed out, his own surprise evident. Sure, she had certainly been a personality when they had met, but a criminal seemed a stretch. 
“Maybe it would teach her a lesson,” Emily mused, shaking her head to herself, “Who am I kidding, that psycho would Shawshank her way out of there by dawn,”
“You don’t actually think she would hurt anyone do you?” JJ said, the dial tone ringing out from the phone she held to her ear. 
“Wouldn’t put it past her. She once cut a girl's pigtail off for wearing the same dress as her on her birthday,” Emily winced as Spencer’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. 
“I thought getting swirlied was bad,” He muttered, watching out the window as Emily made a U-turn at the traffic lights. He and the now twenty three year old had been bouncing research papers back and forth for a few months, the odd one every week, Bugsy even once joking it was much more interesting and riveting than foreplay, which had his face red hot at his desk.
She was like that, he’d quickly realised, had a vulgar sort of humour about her, yet he couldn’t help the snigger that came out whenever he’d receive one of his papers back through the mail with pink writing scrawled all over his ideas. The little hearts that dotted her exclamations whenever she wrote “AMAZING!”, the odd time she’d written “sexy ideas, doctor Reid” which he’d come to understand meant it was really good. He’d even gotten back the drawing at the end of the paper of a stickman of the two of them, his hair a curly scribble and a purple tie which told him immediately who was who, her line of a hand pointing at his caricature with the speech bubble, “everyone point and wave at the smart man,” which had made him laugh. 
She was odd, toeing the line between childish and witty, nothing like the scholars he usually worked with, and the writing he usually sent back on her papers were all in standard black ink, his own pharmacist handwriting staring back at him as he crammed in his every thought of her research into the margins. If she couldn’t read it, she hadn’t said, but he liked to think she took notice of it all, even if it wasn’t strewn with stars and doodles and the occasional flirt he knew meant nothing. He knew her from her writing, knew her from her ideas that sometimes kept him up at night thinking more about them, but the two of them hadn’t spoken directly, most certainty hadn’t seen one another since that day with the Chernus’.
Emily hummed, fingers drumming on the wheel, entirely unaware of the thoughts rattling around in Spencer’s head, then again that’s how it always was, “I just pray to god she’s listened to me for once in her damn life and keeps quiet,”
-
“Fucking bitch. The nuns in Moscow hit harder than you,” She spat, blood dribbling from her split lip. She wasn’t entirely lying, but god did her mouth sing with pain as she tried to muffle a moan. 
“You got jokes, pig lover?” The other woman asked, a tattoo covering half her cheek, her nose crooked from the shiner the Prentiss girl had already given her. “Won’t be fucking laughing when I’m done, bitch,” The woman was quick to tackle the girl around her stomach, slamming her into the hard concrete of the holding cell. Bugsy felt her skull rattle, the wind whooshing from her chest as rough hands grab her shirt and pin her down harder. 
The younger girl reached the nerve under her opponent's armpit, the soft of her ribs, twisting until the woman gave a bark of shock, and she took the opportunity to shove her off, climbing on top of her as they both scrambled for some sort of control.
“I got one for you. What’s got a broken nose, a black eye and doesn’t know what’s good for her?” She swung twice as hard, the other women in the cell rattling against the bars as if watching a matador taunt a bull, the air thick with excitement as the two of them cursed eachother out.
Emily’s sigh was audible across the room as the wardens separated the cat fight, the largest of the officers all but grabbing her sister by the scruff of the neck like a feral beast, dragging her over with stubborn feet to where the BAU stood in the lobby, eyes widened at the state of her. 
“You better start acting your age, little girl. Mommy’s not gonna be around forever to save you,” The officer hissed in her ear, manhandling her over to where Emily glared daggers into the side of her head. She knew that look, it was eerily similar to mom’s that time she’d been caught sneaking out of the house, something in the warm brown of Emily’s eyes frosting over into a cold blackness. Fury. 
She chewed her words for a moment, waiting until the man had turned around with a grunt of acknowledgement to the badge Emily had flashed to get his attention, before she spoke. 
“She’s not my mom, she's my sister, dumbass-” Emily slapped a hand over her mouth, gripping her shoulder with the bear-like strength her jagged nails possessed when she was mad, the scoff of disgrace leaving her mouth as her team trailed behind the two of them. 
“What the hell happened, baby Prentiss?” Morgan asked, ignoring the way Emily’s heated gaze turned on him, “What’s got you so worked up?”
“Don’t entertain her, Morgan,” Emily seethed, all but shoving her into the back of the SUV. She looked up at her sister with an open mouth, the guilt flashing in her eyes as she wavered under the pointing finger Emily jabbed in her face, “Don't you even dare,” 
“But-” She stammered, cut off when she saw the glare intensified, if that had even been possible. 
“I don’t want to hear another word from you for the rest of the day unless you’re prepared to give me a good explanation why I’ve dragged my team out here to save your sorry ass,” Emily hissed, and the girl’s mouth bobbed a few times, feeling the rest of the team watching as she got thoroughly chewed out. 
“Wait-” Emily’s hand lingered at the car door, ready to slam it in her face as she rubbed her cuff over her chin, mopping up the damage. Her head tilted for a moment, hoping her sister had something good to say, only for it to be; “He just called you old, I hope you realise that,”
Emily’s gaze darkened, slamming the door shut with an anger she imagined her mother had kept warm for the past twenty three years, whirling around heatedly when she heard a snigger from one Derek Morgan. 
“Damn, mama, hear the girl out.” He said, slapping a hand on the woman’s shoulder as he passed, heading back to their own SUV, “Maybe she’ll surprise you,” 
If Emily was going to bite anything back, she didn’t. Instead she ran a hand over her brow, the group disbanding to their cars now the problem child had been picked up from daycare, except for Hotch who watched the older Prentiss with a scowl, despite the worry in his eyes. 
“Hotch, I’m so sorry, just take it off my timecard, I’ll cover all the costs,” She said shakily, her own frown adorning her face as she felt herself blush from embarrassment under her boss’s gaze. 
“I understand she’s your sister, but this was a gross misuse of agent time and resources, Prentiss,” He said, his gaze drifting to where Spencer sat next to the girl, pulling a packet of tissues and hand sanitizer out of his satchel while JJ rooted through her own purse for a plaster, “Don’t let it happen again,” 
Emily nodded vehemently, flushed with anger, her palms sticky as she wiped them on her jeans. 
“Absolutely sir. Believe me, this ever happens again, she’s on her own,” She replied, though they both knew she didn’t mean it. Emily would never. 
He nodded stonily, deciding quickly that it was punishment enough that she felt so ashamed, he knew from his years of arguments with Sean what it was like to have a sibling stray so far. 
“We can fill out reports in the morning, just get Reid and JJ home,” Hotch said, putting a tentative hand on her shoulder as he passed her to head towards his own vehicle, “And try not to kill each other in the company car. It doesn’t look good on paperwork,” 
She beat off the smile on her lips as she got back into the driver's seat, the air that engulfed the four of them foul as she glared over her shoulder and into the back. Spencer twitched in his seat uncomfortably, his hand still passing over tissues to the bloodied girl. 
“So, you gonna tell me what that was about?” Emily asked, her tone brittle and warning, not in the mood for any snarky response she could give, “Or is this old lady going to have to lay into you some more,” 
The smell of strong ethanol engulfed her nose as she held the soaked tissue to her face, frowning into her lap silently and avoiding the burning stare as Emily stuck the keys in the ignition and started the car.
“Let’s start with why you were there,” JJ input, the same tone of voice she used as when talking to victims, calm and motherly, unlike the pissed off snarl Emily gave, “You wanna tell us why you were arrested?”
“You two really gonna pull the good cop, bad cop on me?” She snapped, her lip swelling around the wound, tongue grazing it softly despite the heavy taste of the sanitizer.
Emily said her name in a warning, her last warning, and she knew better than to push her luck even more, the SUV pulling out of the station and onto the road. 
“I was just shopping for groceries,” She started, fiddling with the bloodied tissue, wincing under her tongue stroke, “Store clerk made a pass at me, I told him I wasn’t interested. So he put a pack of smokes in my handbag while I wasn’t looking; the alarms went off. I didn’t even know what was happening until security grabbed me at the door,” 
JJ flashed a glance at Emily, like two parents deciding an appropriate punishment, the brunette’s lips straightening out into a line. 
“You’re telling the truth?” She asked cautiously, glancing in the rear view mirror to see how her sister balled the mess of paper between her palms. 
Rolling her eyes, she gladly accepted the other packet of tissues Spencer slid over the leather seat between them. 
“I went out for milk and oranges, I was not looking to get picked up, Em,” She bit back, groaning when she felt it jostle the cut, “And certainly not for cigarettes, you know I only smoke on New Years,” 
Spencer looked at her with a frown, and she caught his confusion quickly, pulling another leaf of paper from the packet. 
“Emily and I had a rule after she caught me smoking when I was like fourteen, that we could have one cigarette between the two of us on New Years eve,” She explained, JJ also perking up to hear it, “So that by the time morning came around, it would be last year’s mistake, and it would be like it never happened,” 
JJ smiled to herself, remembering the time she caught Roz sneaking one of her dad’s cigarettes on the back porch back when she was just ten. She remembered the little secrets the two of them kept back then, held them even all these years later. 
“So how did that lead to, well,” JJ gestured to her lip, “That,” 
“Yeah, didn’t I specifically tell you to not antagonise anyone?” Emily chimed in, signalling she was changing lanes as they headed down the freeway for a second time that day.
“Technically you said not to antagonise the officers,” She pointed out, before Spencer had the chance to, shutting his mouth as he caught the glare Emily shot through the mirror.
“Keep talking,” The older Prentiss ordered, as Bugsy sighed and blotted her lip some more. 
“That woman, Mira I think her name was, anyway, she recognised me from that picture mom had us take on Independence Day, the one they put in The Hill, and she asked me if it was true my sister was a fed,” 
Emily’s fingers twitched at the wheel, knowing the status agents and even people associated with agents held in prisons; knowing just being a Prentiss in a jail cell held a big, dazzling price over her head that said ‘kill me, kill me!”
The air sucked out of the car, a look passing between JJ and Reid as they thought the same thing, waiting for her to go on. 
“So then you hit her?” Emily guessed, the bitterness slowly ebbing as she understood maybe her sister wasn’t as unruly as she thought. 
“No, I told her to leave me the fuck alone, but she said you guys sent her brother down for something a while back, and she asked again if my family were all Pigs,” She picked her nails, the blood stain on her sleeve staring back at her, “I told her if she didn’t stop calling you a Pig, I’d make her squeal like one. And then I hit her,” 
Emily tried to pretend she didn’t smile hearing that, her cheeks tightening, lips pulling down as she fended it off. 
“Is that good enough, officers, or will you be needing fingerprints?” The girl chimed after a moment, a weight seemingly lifted from the car as Emily quickly realised she had, for once, not been entirely at fault. 
“I want a handwritten apology to my boss for wasting his time,” Emily demanded, her unforgiving gaze softening when she saw her smile, “And you owe my team coffee,”
“I can do coffee, coffee coming right up,” She agreed, shoving the used tissues into her purse with a crooked smile, “It’s a date,”
Spencers ears turned red, looking over the seat at where she dabbed at her lip gently. She didn’t look much older for six months, but she had gotten her nose pierced since the last time he’d seen her, unless he just hadn’t noticed it before, and the streaks of red were slowly fading out into a blush pink that said it was old, and he wondered if she’d done it herself in that tiny little cubicle bathroom of hers she shared with the four other girls in her block. 
“You finished your stats papers yet?” He made polite conversation, though part of him was dying to know out of curiosity if she could crunch numbers and equations as well as she could in her own labs. 
“Got two more this week, they’re kicking my ass man,” She replied with a huff, and he didn’t think he’d ever been called ‘man’ by a woman before. He knew if he’d known her in college, ignoring the fact he would have been twelve, he would have thought she may just be the coolest person alive, “I miss my labs with my microscopes and watching all the little baby cells move around in the ethanol. Stats are like, just not sexy,” 
He smiled at her as she stared out the window, unaware of the way she’d managed to make DNA sound like a play pen full of kittens. He held off from telling her he found stats really quite sexy, knowing it would never sound the same coming from his mouth.
He pulled a leaf of the tissues from the packet, producing his own pen from his pocket and began doodling carefully so as not to rip the delicate canvas. 
Sliding it over to her after five minutes as Emily and JJ made conversation in the front seat, she didn’t care that the grin tugged on her split lip, the reaction was instant, she couldn’t stop it if she tried. 
Two stick men stared back at her, her hair a close match in texture and a childish triangle drawn as means of a dress, a very tall stick figure next to her patting her metaphorical head, a speech bubble coming from his mouth. 
“Maths is fun!” It said, and she flicked a glance at him, her smile the most genuine he’d seen yet. He just smiled back. 
+2. The one where you graduate
Emily felt the looks on her the moment JJ had mentioned Maryland. The case was a little under their pay grade, nothing more than a stalker, no bodies or bloodshed, but one very rattled woman that had turned to the communications liaison with fear for her life. 
With Hotch and Rossi in Boston helping a case of their own, the rest of the BAU had been twiddling their thumbs waiting for something to come across their desk. 
“This case is in my hands now, and if we do nothing and something happens to her,” JJ took a heavy breath, her eyes lingering on the three names Keri had given her in case of her untimely death, “I’ll be the one notifying her family,”
Derek, despite his own hesitations about using their time for a case like this, caved the moment he saw the guilt on the blonde’s face. 
“Okay,” He shuffled the papers into a pile, Emily and Spencer gathering their own resources on the case and standing from the round table. 
Luckily, one government SUV was more than enough to carry the four of them for the hour drive North, all of them well aware Hotch would flip if they used more funds than necessary.
JJ piled into the front beside where Morgan climbed into the driver’s seat, leaving Emily next to a particularly fidgety Reid. It took all of fifteen minutes of the man flicking a glance at her, his mouth quirking as if he were about to use it, before he thought better and looked out the window, and the whole thing would start again. 
Derek, the less shy about his thoughts of the two men, even glanced at her through the rear view mirror, before he too returned his gaze out the window silently. JJ shifted in her seat, knowing she had to tread carefully around mentioning Bugsy to Emily, particularly after the last time they’d seen her. Emily had said they’d grabbed coffee once or twice since then, but that was all she spoke about it, which left her team walking cracked eggshells at the thought of bringing her up. 
It seemed the three of them were bursting at the seams with the same thought, and it wasn’t until Reid cleared his voice, his puppy eyes stuck in his loop, that she had had enough. 
“Does anyone here have something to say?” Emily huffed, Derek immediately reaching to turn the radio up the same time that JJ flicked the AC on for something to do. Realising they weren’t easily broken, she turned to Spencer who already looked slightly guilty, thumbing at his sweater, “Reid?”
“Did you want to see your sister?” He asked without hesitation, as if the words had fallen out of him, “You know, since we’re so close on this case. It would be a good excuse to-”
“You did say she owed us a coffee,” JJ pointed out, spurred on by Spencer’s nerves, “Wouldn’t mind cashing in if we’re coming all this way.”
“Morgan, do you have anything to add?” Emily asked with raised brows, though she already knew what was coming.
Derek chewed over his thoughts a second, “I’m just saying, you only get to see your baby sisters grow up once- you know, and it couldn’t hurt to see her even if she runs rings around you with that smart mouth-”
“Shouldn’t we be focusing on the case?” Emily cut him off incredulously, but received three knowing looks back. She met JJ’s gaze where the woman had swivelled in her seat to talk to her, and Prentiss was fast to catch the buried grief in her best friend’s eyes. She knew it pained her to even bring up sisterhood, let alone watch Emily throw hers away for the sake of a decade and a half between them. It was the desperation in JJ’s face that did it, knowing she would give anything to spend just an hour with Roz one more time, that had her drawing her cell out her pocket and calling the contact with the little ladybug next to it, “Fine,”
As a profiler she would have been tempted to ignore the way Spencer smiled into his lap; as a sister, her eyes narrowed at him.
The phone rang surprisingly only once before she answered, and she heard an unnaturally tame version of her sister answer.
“Emily?” She asked, her voice hushed, worried almost, “You okay?”
Her brows furrowed, “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” She got no more than a hum in return, somewhat agreeing though Emily could tell clear as day she was holding something back. “Look, we’re gonna be in Silver Spring, I was thinking tomorrow we could grab lunch-” 
“Can’t, I’m busy, it’s an all day thing,” Her sister cut her off, yet it wasn’t rude or demeaning like usual. Nervous almost, sad, “Sorry,”
“What’s an all day thing?” Emily asked, the concern matching her words. 
Her sister swallowed on the other end of the phone, before she found her words, or maybe even the balls to actually speak, “I’m graduating tomorrow,”
Emily’s face lit up, the smile spreading fast on her face, ignoring the way Morgan’s words seemed to ring true in her ears; she was growing up too fast. 
“Graduating, why didn’t you say!” She asked, the joy in her tone unmissable, “How’d your papers go?”
Spencer held himself off from correcting her that she’d only done five papers, that the rest of her results had come from theory and labs, thinking better than to interrupt the one conversation they’d had where there was no underlying argument brewing. 
“Full honours, obviously.” Bugsy drawled with a snicker, and Emily shook her head, the smile never dimming. 
“Look at you, y’little superstar,” Emily bit her lip, ignoring the guilt that tore at her when she realised she barely knew what Bug spent her days doing, “Did Mom and Dad get good seats? Oh god, dad’s not bringing Stephanie is he?”
The silence on the other end had her halting, the light in the conversation wavering for a second, before she understood the nerves, the quick defence her sister had been on the moment the call had been answered. 
“Bug-”
“They’re not coming,” Her heart ached in her chest hearing it, “I sent Mom the details, she said she’s in Ukraine this week settling some papers. Didn’t even get a chance to ask Dad before he and Stephanie were off on their fifth honeymoon in the Bahamas until October,” A painful laugh echoed down the line, as if she were holding back the gravity of the situation. 
“Bug,” Emily tried again, picking her thumb viciously, punishingly, hating herself for being so blind to her sister’s troubles, “Why didn’t you invite me?”
“I figured you’d be busy,” Came the reply, sad and tender, the most honest she’d heard in a while, “You’re always busy,” 
“Never too busy for you,” Emily’s guilt tripled when her sister didn’t answer, knowing if she were to counter the statement with hard evidence it would only hurt both of them, “Look, I have some time today, probably,” She didn’t, not even a few minutes, “Why don’t we get that coffee, you don’t even have to pay,”
Bugsy gave a sad laugh, “Sorry, Em, I gotta get my dress fitted today, and some of the lab techs invited me to a party later. Maybe some other time,”
“A party with biology nerds?” Emily asked with false excitement, the air turned stagnant between them now, “Well, rock on, science freak. Don’t leave your drinks with strangers, and don’t walk home alone, and for god sake use protection-”
“Bye, Emily,” She said with a chuckle, the older of the two gracing her with the same, as they put the phone down. 
The car was quiet, waiting for Prentiss to speak, none of them missing the way her lip pulled between her teeth, a bitterness on her face that told them she was holding in something close to sadness. You’re always busy. It echoed around her head, stabbing at her chest to think her sister was graduating alone, no one to congratulate her, no one to pat her on the back and tell her how clever she is despite the fact Bugsy would happily tell anyone just how smart she was on her own. Never too busy for you. 
“She’s graduating tomorrow,” She said to the three people waiting for an update, Spencer’s brows shooting to his hairline. He hadn’t heard from her since her last paper got sent off, and why would he? They had exchanged a few little anecdotes and doodles, sent each other research papers to be graded like teachers exchanging lecture notes, “She didn’t even tell me. She’s gonna be alone,” 
JJ grimaced, “What? What about your mom- or, or your dad, an uncle, someone-” 
“Mom and dad are out of the country, Mom’s brother lives in Mexico with his seven kids, he can barely get a night’s sleep let alone a day off to travel up to Maryland. Dad’s sisters passed away when I was a kid,” Emily explained, running a hand over her face, “I can’t let her go up there alone,”
“So we don’t,” Spencer said, as if he’d never been more sure of anything in his life, “We don’t let her do it alone,”
-
“Graduating with Masters in Biotechnology; Jasper Adams, Tom Adamson, Kristen Afkins, Gavin Agriths-” 
The dean read off the names of the students as she fiddled with the hem of her dress. 
The dress fit beautifully, her make up done to near perfection, her hair styled neatly, she was graduating with full honours for christ sakes. Why couldn’t she just be happy with what she had? Why had she got to be so spoiled? 
Lots of peoples parents missed their graduation, lots of people her age didn’t even have parents anymore, she ought to be grateful her mother was increasing famine aid in foreign countries, all the lives she would save, or even be happy her father had found a pretty, rich new wife to tour every known vacation destination with. Or even that her sister had called her just yesterday and told her in a few words she was proud of her. 
But none of them quelled the feeling of loneliness that blossomed inside Bugsy. The kind that had always been there, the kind that just wanted someone in her corner, telling her she was doing pretty good for a kid who raised herself in all those big houses they’d moved to, who saw the au pair more often than her own mother. 
All those rooms were so empty, the houses so quiet besides for her. It was like living in a cemetery. 
“Robert Lewsinsky. Marcus Linford. Tara Lorence. Katie Macauley.” 
P would be up soon. Each name of her classmates drew an applause, some whoops and screams, one family she swore there must have been ten of them in the back row cawing and howling like monkeys at a zoo, proud of their son for making it. 
She willed a smile on her face, hearing Orla Parkins get called up, and she knew just by the steward that directed her where to stand in line she was close. 
“Kenneth Patterson. Joshua Perriman. Harriet Pimms. Lauren Pintons.”
She held a rattled breath as Renly Prackett walked ahead of her, strolling over the stage to collect his degree, flashing the crowd a wide smile and a fist pump. She had always liked Renly, having been his experiment partner for a year, despite the fact he never washed up after himself in the lab. 
Then it was, her name was called. The one no one but her mother and Stephanie ever called her, she solely went by Bugsy courtesy of Emily. It was a family name, a nice one at that. Maybe it had been the fact she had been eight and her cool big sister crowned her the new name, or maybe it just rolled off the tongue better, made her feel less like a Prentiss, that she chose to go by her monika. 
She tried not to think about where or what Emily was doing, only hoping she was safe, as she began walking over the stage, her heels clicking loudly with her hesitant steps. 
To her utmost surprise she heard a loud whistle echo through the auditorium, a group of jeers and screams of her name, even an air horn signing off that had her almost tripping over her own feet turning to see who it was. 
Surely it was a joke, a cruel prank, she barely had any friends in her class. Acquaintances sure, but no one so bold as to make such a fuss over her. 
Squinting down at the audience, her cap nearly slipping off her head as her head turned to the source, she felt her chest burst when she saw the dark hair and bangs, her sisters butchered fingertips in her mouth with a loud cattle whistle, screaming like a firework right to the stage where she graciously accepted her award, despite the fact she barely paid any attention to the dean anymore, more to her sister who smiled at her widely as she clapped. Behind her, her team she’d met on the off chance, the pretty blonde, JJ, who pressed the air horn a few more times, cheering just as loud for her. Morgan, the handsome one who had stood himself on top of his chair, cupping a hand over his mouth to scream “Kicking ass, baby Prentiss!” at her, ignoring the way other people stared wide eyed at them. 
And Spencer, tall enough to be seen over the crowd even without the help of a chair, who smiled at her, clapping those big hands of his loud enough to reach her, his own whoops never ceasing even as she stepped off the stage to head back to her seat. 
The rest of the ceremony dragged, a speech from one of the alumni and the exit music playing, but she simply grinned into her hand, where her degree smiled back at her, counting down the moments she would be allowed to stand. 
And then she was fast walking down the stairs, amongst the bustle of students, the black gowns flurrying around her as she burst out into the square where parents, fiancees, brothers, sisters, cheered their loved ones, pulling them into tight hugs. 
Her eyes scanned the wave of black hats, landing on two dark eyes, the thick sable hair framing the dazzling smile that awaited her with open palms. All but shoving her way through the crowd, she stopped in front of her sister, the urge to jump at her with a hug shying the moment she got close. 
“Told you. Never too busy for you, Bug,” Emily said, pulling her in by her shoulders for a tight hug. She knew her sister wasn’t one to beg for affection, wasn’t one to let her guard drop so soon, but she also knew she’d needed it by the way she melted against her, the way she chuckled into her hair, pulled her closer. 
“Do I owe your boss another letter of apology for this or do I get you guys for free?” The girl asked, as her sister pulled away, keeping an arm around her shoulder as they turned to the rest of the team. 
“No, this one is entirely on us, promise,” JJ said with a smile as she saw Emily beaming maternally over at the girl, the flat of the cap knocking against her cheek as she squeezed her in once more, “We’re very proud of you,” 
She heated under the woman’s words, wriggling in her shoes as bad as Emily did when she felt awkward, Derek chuckling and taking the degree out of her hand. 
“Alright, lets see the creds, Prentiss,” He held it up next to her face as she shrugged, the ‘4.0’ clear as day next to her name, “Good looking, and smart. Those boys in the lab ought to watch out,”
She grinned under his teasing, “What can I say, I got the deep end of the gene pool,” She teased, feeling Emily swat her ear, her eyes falling to where Spencer held a plant pot with a poorly wrapped bow of twine around it, the soil a little displaced from the journey.
“This is for you,” He said, handing her the small green sproutling, his cheeks blushing as her face lit up, reading the small inscription on the front, “It’s-”
“Dionaea muscipula,” She said, biting her lip as she smiled at him, “This is so cool! Where on earth did- I had a paper last semester on the ways to study their electrophysiology you just have to read- oh thank you!”
“English, please?” Emily asked, though the warmth flooded her chest when her sister threw her arms around a very rigid Spencer. 
Thinking she should grab her and warn her the man disliked touch almost as much as she does, she was surprised to see him give her a small embrace back, smiling proudly the way he did when he’d made someone happy. 
“Piège à mouches Vénus,” Her sister responded cockily, tugging herself away from the tall man, to inspect her new plant, well aware that Emily rolled her eyes at her use of French, “Venus Fly Trap. I’ve never seen one so young, still I should be able to pull some slides on the Rhizomes in the soil-”
Emily put a hand to her temple, JJ smiling widely as she saw for once Spencer be the one on the receiving end of an earful, chuckling to himself when she began dishing out name ideas for the sapling. 
“Holy shit, there’s two of them,” Morgan grumbled, nudging his shoulder into Emily who simply sighed, her migraine already starting as Reid began jumping in with his own thoughts, which didn’t take much effort.
“Don’t even,” 
+3. The one where you’re taken hostage
“Tell us about the 911 call,” Spencer requests, flicking through the file himself beside her in the back seat. She had her own set of paperwork in front of her, her pen attached to a clipboard the lanyard around her neck reading her real, honest credentials, unlike the fake ones Emily and Reid were given. She’d been to one of these sects before, invited kindly as part of her research on the effect isolation has on cultivation of crops, knew one of the mother’s well from her last research paper, and had managed to get the group a foot in the door to entering the Separtarian Sect with little fuss. 
Hotch, usually hesitant to allow outsiders in on the job, especially as young and spirited as Bugsy, had to admit it would calm any potential unsubs and make them see the team as unthreatening if they had a friendly face there. He’d signed the papers with a frown that morning, and they were on their way to the little apartment the girl occupied just outside Baltimore, sample tubes stuffed into her pack ready. 
“I believe the he that they refer to is the church’s leader, Benjamin Cyrus,” Nancy, a woman from child protective services, replied from the driver's seat, Emily thumbing through her papers as they neared the compound. 
“Benjamin Cyrus, no criminal record; no record of him at all actually,” Reid replied, watching Bugsy scribbling notes into her lab book, perfecting her report before she had even begun, “What else do you know about him?” 
“The sect I spoke to before, the one in Utah, said he was rumoured to be practising polygamy and forced marriages,” The younger woman said, looking back at him with a frown, “They were much more modern in their beliefs than these guys. Last time I spoke to Marina she was happy there, I can’t see why she would want to move here,” 
Spencer looked as if he were about to answer, perhaps to tell her he was sure her contact would be just fine, when Emily shrugged and turned to Nancy. 
“Do we know who the caller is?” She asked, sipping her now lukewarm coffee out of the disposable cup. 
Nancy’s head tilted in a so-so motion, “Uh, Jessica Evansen is the one who the age fits, but we can’t be sure.”
“Well given their view on outsiders, it would be best if you didn’t identify us as FBI.” Emily instructed, handing Reid his new, fake credentials and his gun she’d kept in her bag through customs. “Just use our real names and introduce us as child victim interview experts.” Nancy nodded, the compound coming into view, the dust flurrying under the car wheels as the road turned into nothing more than a sandy path. 
A guard seemed to be expecting their arrival as he stood, unarmed at the main gate, unlatching the bolt in the middle and opening it wide for their vehicle to pass through. She nodded in thanks, her eyes flicking out the dirty window to see a collection of mobile homes surrounding a large church, a few smaller outbuildings dotted around the compound. It was quiet, not full of laughter like the last group she had been to, the children nowhere to be seen, only a few of the handier members of the flock that were either fixing up walls, trimming trees besides a man sprawled too casually on the steps of the chapel, a bible in his hands he seemed to be catching up on. 
The car pulled to a stop in front of the man that barely batted an eye at their arrival, the safety locks flicking off each of the doors, Nancy collecting her briefcase and exiting the car first. 
She had all but reached for the handle when Emily stopped her, swivelling in her seat to look her dead in the eye. 
“Your job is mediator, you got that?” Her sister had never looked more serious, but then again she did know her almost too well, “You and your field research are a… buffer between our investigation and the unsub. Just try to take the focus off what we’re doing, but do not provoke anyone,”
She raised her hands in innocence, “Got it, jeez, what could I possibly do that could ruin this investigation?” 
Emily stared back at her blankly, unnamused, as if they both knew there was a lot she could, and would, do that would blow the whole thing. 
“You look like mom when you give me that look,” She bit back, leaving the car, as Nancy spoke to the man laying on the steps, “It’s terrible,” 
“I’m looking for Mr Benjamin Cyrus?” Nancy reported, her tight, knee length skirt and blouse entirely out of place amongst the dirt track. 
“You found him,” The man replied, still not so much as granting them a glance of interest as he flicked through his passages. 
“I’m Nancy Lunde, we spoke on the phone regarding the allegation,” She replied, which was the only thing that garnered his attention as he looked up at them behind slightly bent reading glasses. 
“Savages they call us; because our manners differ from theirs,” He said, though it was clear it wasn’t entirely his own words, more likely a segment of his preach he’d repeated a handful of times. Bugsy tried to hide her disgust behind her hand tightening around her lab books she kept tightly to her chest. 
“We didn’t come here to hear you cite scripture, Mr Cyrus,” Nancy snipped as he approached the group, pocketing the glasses though he kept hold of the bible in hand as if it was part of his own arm. 
“Actually it’s Benjamin Franklin,” Spencer murmured to the woman, which had Cyrus’ cold brown eyes narrowing at the tall man, assessing for a motive.
“Emily Prentiss, Spencer Reid. They’re child victim interview experts,” Nancy introduced them quickly, the two of them flashing their badges, the unofficial ones at least. Gesturing to the youngest woman, she introduced her with her real name, his gaze flicking to her as he seemed to recognise it.
“Marina’s friend? The plant lady?” He asked, face half amused as she fought her lip from twitching into a sneer. Instead she smiled, holding out her hand. 
“That’s what they call me,” She said, shaking his hand, ignoring the way he flashed her a cheshire cat smile, “Hope you don’t mind me dropping by, Marina said I could take some samples for my research,”
He laughed, shaking his head, looking at Spencer, “Women and their flowers, right?” Spencer swallowed back a retort, shrugging his shoulders, though Bugsy’s eye twitched. Benjamin patted her on her shoulder, “Of course you can honey, I’ll find Jared, our head gardner, and you can run along for your research,” 
He said it as if she were lying, that her degree and endless hours of work would only ever chalk up to a few doodles in a notebook, or a garden full of hydrangeas, or tulips, or roses, because she couldn’t possibly care about anything else but pretty flowers. 
Nodding her head graciously, choking back the hateful response she wished to spit in his face, she gave him a polite thankyou, feeling Spencer’s eyes burning into the side of her head. 
“The children are in the school as I indicated,” Cyrus said, turning back to the other three, Emily and Nancy taking off in the direction he pointed, the former knowing her sister was at risk of blowing a fuse if they were here for long. 
Spencer hung back, partially because he had a plan of distraction in mind to allow the women a chance to speak with the children whilst Cyrus wasn’t around, partially because he didn’t want to leave Bugsy anywhere on her own. Sure, Emily had said they were both trained in self defence when they were kids, but with no weapon of her own, he was reluctant. 
“You're using solar power?” He prompted, gesturing towards where the eight blue panels warmed under the Colorado sun.
“We’re completely self-sufficient,” Benjamin nodded along, catching the impressed look on both their faces, “Electricity, food, water. Ben Franklin said ‘God helps those that help themselves,’ you look surprised,” 
“No, impressed actually,” Spencer replied, and he wasn’t entirely lying. The system was incredibly complex, particularly if they received no help from outsiders, for as many people as there were in the compound. 
“Thankyou; for admitting that,” Cyrus said earnestly, flicking his gaze back to Bugsy who studied the solar panels, “I’ll go find Jared, he can take you to the greenhouses,”
Thanking him again, he led the way towards the school where Nancy and Emily had headed, as the two of them exchanged a look, Spencer smiling half piteously, wishing he could shake her and tell her just how smart she was and that Cyrus knew absolutely nothing. 
He didn’t miss the way she walked closer to him, or how she thumbed the corner of her notebook, or how she looked back at him, biting the inside of her cheek. He thinks he might get slapped if he pointed it out, but Emily had the exact same tell when she was nervous, which is why he bumps their shoulders together in means of reassuring her he was still there. 
It was only then she gave him any sort of smile back. 
-
Jared, as expected, had been just as condescending and patronising as Benjamin whilst she slipped on her latex gloves, scooping no more than a handful of homemade fertiliser into one of her test tubes. It had been a partial cover, their story, but she had been telling the truth when she’d contacted Marina and asked if she could drop by. She’d been meaning to expand her field research in hopes of stumbling on a job opportunity since she spent most of her postgraduate days reading while her cat pawed at her leg for more treats than he deserved, the odd phone call with her sister much more common than it had been before. 
She didn’t miss the way Jared’s hand fell into the small of her back as he led her back towards the school, after having noted down a few more readings, fussing over the state of the carrots that seemed to grow entirely naturally thanks to the systems they’d been smart enough to set up. He seemed rather bored by the whole thing, for a head gardener, more interested in staring at her legs as she leaned down to identify the fat black beetle that crawled along the rockery. 
It wasn’t until they were halfway to the school that the sound of tyres on a dirt path met her ears, and she saw five armoured SUVs out the corner of her eye. 
She hadn’t even the time to question what was going on, before Jared’s face dropped, the hand gently holding the soft of her back grabbing on her forearm hard enough to leave bruises, as he was dragging her to the chapel they had seen when they had pulled up.
 Emily had said the rest of the team stayed in Quantico, if it wasn’t them, who was it. 
“Whats going on- who is that?” She asked him lamely, her feet stumbling as she half fought his heavy hand off. 
That was when the shooting started. 
She thinks it came from the compound first, she’d seen two men stationed on top of one of the outbuildings, thinking nothing much of it, until she saw clearly now the assault rifles they bore, pointing it straight at the vehicles that drew closer. The whistle of bullets, bangs of the chambers emptying their artillery, and it wasn’t until she heard the doors to the SUVs start opening, more gunfire began hitting the wall ahead of them that she started running. Running fast, for the cover the church provided until she figured out just what the fuck was happening. 
Jared all but threw her past the chapel door, where Cyrus and four other men were waiting, a heavy barricade in their hands, her chest pounding with adrenaline, she couldn’t help the yelp that left her as Cyrus whirled on her, grabbing her shoulders firmly and looking her dead in the eye. 
“Did you know anything about this?” He asked, his calm demeanour cracking when she scrambled for a response, “ANSWER ME,”
“No-no not at all.” She shook her head, voice weaker than she’d like, but the sight of more guns in the men’s hands twisted any resolve she had, “Where are the others- the- the experts-”
“Take her into the tunnels,” Cyrus ignored her question, nodding at one of his men to grab her as Jared armed himself. She felt another callused hand yank on her upper arm, and part of her wondered if that was how men handled all women here, as if they were herding cattle, as she was dragged down into the catacombs below the church. 
They’d made plans for a day like this to come, she realised. 
Her heart constricted at the sound of bullets rattling above them, she hadn't been able to tell in that last moment whether Cyrus believed her or not as, nor whether she was being taken to the tunnels for her own safety or to be questioned harder about the gunmen. 
She could only hope Emily was safe. 
She felt her tongue too big for her mouth as the man all but shoved her into the bunker, the nervous chatter of women and children, some of the more elderly men, as they clung to one another for safety, the scathing remark she would have usually made about his heavy hands failing her as she scanned the room for her sister. 
Emily was faster however, and she nearly yelped again as two bony arms yanked her into a hug, a rare one, and she knew by the blazer and the sigh of relief in her ear it was Em.
Usually she would bat her off, tell her to stop fussing like a mother hen, but today she embraced her right back, trying to note if her sister had any bullet holes in her before she allowed herself the same relief. 
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Emily asked, the whole thing coming out in a slew of worry, and she nodded, pulling away as if she needed to see the proof in person. 
Bugsy’s eyes were wild, as if she were a doe in a meadow hearing a rifle cocking near. No scratch that, she was a doe being chased and shot at and hunted, narrowly escaping being mounted on a wall. 
“They were all shit shots,” Bugsy said, through a laugh she didn’t quite mean, “You would have done much better.” 
Patting her sister on the shoulder, Emily finally released her when she realised the humour meant she at least had her head on her shoulders. Spencer watched her with meticulous eyes, knowing the shock that registered on her face, knowing it was the same one he wore when he first had shots fired at him. He saw her own eyes quickly check him over, satisfied with a breath of relief when she saw they were both fine. 
“Where’s Lunde?” Emily asked, and she realised then Cyrus had followed her down into the shelter, two of his men grabbing handfuls of guns she had never seen before, likely imported out of country, and returning to the ground level, preparing for more shooting. 
“It wasn’t us,” Cyrus replied, as if that negated the fact their recklessness had gotten the agent killed. 
“What? You can’t shoot it out with the cops, you have children in here,” Emily seethed, her voice harsh and incredulous.
“I didn’t start this,” Cyrus bit back, looking towards his men as they grabbed boxes on boxes of ammunition, “I’ll take the front, you take the roof,” 
And with that they stormed their way back through the tunnels, leaving the three of them to look between each other, knowing this could only end badly. Knowing the only people that could figure out how to get them out of this mess was the BAU, all 1,700 miles away. 
They’d been in the bunker for fourteen hours when there was finally movement. The shooting seemed to have quietened down, in which Spencer whispered it was around 11pm and it was likely neither party had a clear shot. She’d managed to fall asleep leaning against the wall, Emily’s blazer draped over her legs. She’d regretted wearing cropped pants, despite how the shade of green complimented her eyes nicely, and she’d been shivering by the time she fell asleep, Emily’s hands stroking her hair gently as if she knew she was struggling to relax. 
She hadn’t realised she was staring at her little sister, frowning even as she slept, which made part of her want to laugh, until she caught Spencer’s tired eyes looking between them, something knowing and warm in his gaze. 
“You know, she’s always scowled in her sleep, ever since she was born,” Emily said, quiet enough it didn’t interrupt the hum of small snores, the odd baby cry that filled the bunker, but loud enough for him to smile at her, “She used to sleep walk terrible too. I’d find her in the kitchen trying to make pancakes with a cheese grater. It’s like that big brain of hers doesn’t know how to shut off,” Emily shook her head with a fatigue, rubbing her eyes. 
“Was it weird? Being fourteen years older?” Spencer asked, his own hands shoved into his sleeves to try defend from the draught. Emily thought for a moment, her hand slowing for a second on her sister's hair, before she answered. 
“I felt guilty leaving her in that house with my mom when I went to college,” Emily answered, Bugsy unconsciously tucking her face closer into the jacket, “I think part of her kind of hated me for it for a while.” She went quiet, the shame in her voice thick as the silence that encompassed them, “She’s never been very affectionate you know? Before her graduation I don’t think I’d hugged her in twelve years,”
Spencer held himself back from pointing out that she had been just as touchy with him since they’d met, and that maybe it was Emily’s own regret that seemed to shut the both of them down. He wasn’t one to rub salt in the wound, not since he’d gotten this job and learned to watch what he said. 
He didn’t know what to say, didn’t want to give her advice, knowing the whole subject of their slowly repairing relationship was a sore one. He had no siblings of his own, had a mother who loved him despite how much she grappled with her own mind, and he had only known the girl briefly enough to consider her a friend at a push. 
“I always thought the two of you were similar,” Emily chose to continue, offering him a small smile. He returned it, his face blushing at the fact that was a huge compliment to him, “Granted, you roll your eyes at me less and don’t act like I’m dumb, but you remind me of her,” 
“Thankyou, I wish that were true,” He replied, eyes flicking to her sleeping form, the way her eyebrows were indeed scrunched in a permanent frown. He wondered if she was actually angry, or if she was just thinking hard, perhaps her dreams were full of equations or labs she needed to sort through. Either way, he wanted to know. “She’s much cooler than I’ll ever be,” 
Emily snorted, shuffling against the wall to cosy herself, “That’s one way to put it,” She said, smiling over at him as he did the same, his head resting against the wall, Bugsy’s legs stretching out to knock against his feet, and he didn’t mind that she scuffed the bottom of his already dirty trousers. “Get some sleep,”
And so they did. 
Cyrus had corralled the whole flock into the church, where the shooting had stopped and the bodies had been removed, stating at the break of dawn that there was a hostage negotiator coming in to make sure everyone was safe before they made any deals. 
She sat next to Spencer, the three of them stiff from their sleeping arrangements, and her stomach churned with hunger. It had been over 24 hours since they’d gotten here, and besides the small bit of bread and water Cyrus gave everyone for breakfast, she was starving. 
“Remind me to never leave the house, ever again,” She grumbled, as everyone waited in the pews for the negotiator to arrive, “My cat is gonna be pissed I’ve not fed him,” 
“Since when did you get a cat?” Emily inputted from the other side of Reid, keeping one eye on the door in case any agents start shooting again. 
The girl shrugged, “I got lonely, there’s not much to do now I’m not studying anymore,” 
Reid watched how she clutched her stomach, feeling his own complaining at the lack of nutrition, “Morgan wasn’t lying when he said you should sign up for the academy. We could always use the help, we wouldn’t have solved that case in Baltimore without you,” 
She snickered, nudging his foot with her boot, “You’re being modest, you would have done it just fine,”
He was a little, wasn’t surprised she called his bluff either. “Okay, so probably yes- but it would have taken us a whole lot longer. Mr Chernus likely would have died,” 
She shook her head, glancing at Emily who watched her carefully, “That was all you guys. I just translated.”
Emily and Spencer exchanged a glance, leaning back in their uncomfortable seats calmly. 
“You’re probably right,” Spencer said, dusting the dirt off his trousers, “Probably couldn’t handle it, high intensity mind games and such,”
She blanched, looking at him as if he’d grown a second head, not knowing him to be so brutally honest, realistic yes, but not bordering on rude. 
“And it’s a lot of work,” Emily jumped in, her mouth a straight line, “I don’t know if you’d be dedicated enough,”
Bugsy scoffed, indifferently. “I have a masters degree, I was offered a scholarship to do a PHD, asked to be an assistant professor at Yale, I can work hard, Emily,” She snipped, and perhaps she was particularly just hangry or they had struck a nerve with their doubt, “and I could do it if I wanted to, I’d have the best shot they’d ever seen, guaranteed- mom made me take lessons when you left- trust me I could do it-”
She shut up when she saw their small smile exchanged, as if she’d told them a joke, or moreso they’d had the same identical thought and that alone was hilarious. 
Scowling at them, she looked from where Spencer looked almost, almost, guilty at making her the butt of the joke, to where Emily had a ‘told you so’ smirk, and she kissed her teeth at their childishness. 
“Are you guys reverse psychology-ing me? Seriously, so original guys,” She snapped, crossing her arms and straightening herself in her seat, ignoring the snigger that passed between them. 
“You’re not wrong though,” Emily replied quietly as Cyrus walked past them, his eyes falling to them with a frown. Bugsy kept her head down, heeding Emily’s warning of not provoking anyone, and Spencer eyed the way she leaned closer to him.
If she was going to retaliate, whether agreeing or not, she stopped herself, the doors the church opening and an older gentleman walking through the doors, arms full of supplies she’d figured must have been part of the negotiation. He was patted down by an armed guard, searching for his own weapons do doubt, or a wire perhaps, as he handed the box over to another who took it without a thankyou. 
“Rossi,” She heard Reid whisper beside her, and from the look he shot Emily and Spencer she gathered he was from the BAU, just as they’d expected. His eyes fell on her, softening as alot of Emily’s team did when they saw the two of them, as if they were picking her face apart for the tiny ways in which she resembled their Prentiss, or maybe it was the way she curled up in her seat, tired, hungry, on the defence. He just looked sorry for her. 
 “The children,” Cyrus said with no greeting, the air between them particularly frosty. He gestured towards the three of them, though Rossi had already clocked their tired faces staring at him with worry, “And our guests,”
She saw him trying not to react, guessing they had not let it slip to Cyrus he worked with the two undercover FBI agents, looking away from them as if the sight of their forlorn figures was enough to turn him sick. 
Judging by the way Cyrus and he spoke quietly, tensely, Bugsy just hoped they had a plan to get them out of here soon as he soon left with a rigid handshake to the man keeping them hostage. 
The three of them had been moved to a backroom a few hours later. Her stomach ached, the little sustenance Rossi had brought being distributed to the community before they’d been offered anything, which hadn’t left much. Reid and Emily had tried to get her to take some of their sharing, and despite how her insides cried out for it, she declined, stating they would be more use than she would; that they needed their strength more than her if they were going to get out of here alive. 
The two of them hadn’t liked that answer judging by the frowns on their faces, but they sat in their seats with little fuss as they waited for things to quieten down after Cyrus’ staged “mass suicide” that had turned out to be nothign more than a test of loyalty and grape juice. 
They had been sat in silence, aside from her foot bouncing on the floor impatiently, as she picked at the threads on her pants, the material uncomfortable on her skin after a day of wearing it. The door slammed open, Cyrus entering the room with nasty scowl. She didn’t know what had changed in the man in a matter of hours as he stormed over to them, two of his men behind him, loaded rifles in their arms. 
This was not good. 
“Which one of you is it?” He asked almost too calm for his demeanour, his eyes flicking between the three of them, where Emily attempted to brush her hair using her fingers, Reid played with the hem of his cardigan, an she sat beside him, resting against the cold stone wall behind them, her eyes narrowing at his furious expression. 
The three of them remained silent, waiting for him to explain more, though clearly it was not the answer he was looking for as he threw his jacket open, revealing a loaded pistol tucked into his jeans. Drawing it into his dominant hand, her body tensed up, her back straightening like a rod as she looked up at him through fear. 
“Which one of you is the FBI agent?” He repeated in that same calm tone, and her heart fell through her stomach. 
She opened her mouth to say something in retaliation, though the way she saw his hand shaking with fury, she knew it was better to stay quiet in case her voice would be the final straw that made him trigger happy. 
“Why do you think one of us is an FBI agent?” Spencer replied softly, and if he was panicking even a fraction amount she was he held it back, though his eyes flicked to Emily. 
But it was a tell. The smallest movement alone was a tell he was lying, or perhaps it was the fact he’d answered a question with one of his own, distracting from the attention on them with the unsubs own answers. Maybe his quiet and calm showed how trained he was for a situation like this, showed he had gone up against bad guys before and won. 
Whatever it was about him, it had Cyrus cocking the barrel of the gun straight at Spencer’s temple. 
“God forgive me for what I must do,” The preacher murmured, his finger moments away from the trigger, when she lurched forward in her seat, hand shooting out to grab his wrist deathly tight. 
“It’s me,” 
She hadn’t realised she’d said it until the room went quiet. She thought for a moment it had come from Emily, Emily had always been the braver of the two of them, but it wasn’t until Cyrus’ unforgiving, dark gaze fell to her where she froze in her spot, that she understood her mouth had been the one moving. 
Emily looked as if she was about to vomit, Spencer looked dumbfounded, but all she could do was stare back at Cyrus as if to will herself not to back down, knowing all three of them could fall victim if she gave them reason to doubt her; he could kill all three of them just to be sure the mystery agent was dealt with.
“It’s me,” She repeated, voice stronger this time, and she felt her chest relax just the tiniest amount as he turned the gun away from Spencer’s head. 
He stared back at her for a moment, before the weapon smacked across her face in a sharp whip, her cheekbone crying out in a sting she knew was going to bruise. 
He grabbed her hair at the nape of her neck, yanking her into a stand hard enough she yelped, despite not wanting to give him the satisfaction of the torture. 
“Watch the other two,” Cyrus barked, dragging her out of the room as she squirmed under his hand, feeling it only tighten into an unforgiving pull. 
She barely caught Emily bolting out of her seat to yell at the other men, all but fighting in their heavy grasp to follow wherever it was he was taking her, only for the door to be slammed shut behind them. 
It was only then she realised how fucked she truly was. 
She struggled to breath through the blood clotting in her nose. She didn’t think it was broken, not that she could check where her hands had been tied to the bedpost, tape over her mouth to stop her calling for help, her feet bound. She’d done nothing but give him hell as he’d been laying into her, keeping her cries and groans of pain silent as he’d kicked her in the ribs hard enough to know he’d damaged something at least. 
She’d not made it easy for him to tie her down, worried about what they were planning next, she’d managed to headbutt him in the mouth, and the way he clutched at his jaw when he’d left gave her a sick satisfaction, though her temple now hurt more than she’d like to admit. But they’d only covered her mouth after she’d screamed obscenities at them for an hour or so, hoping to attract attention, hoping if the BAU were on their way, Emily and Reid would be able to find her fast before they could dispose of her. 
Bugsy didn’t want to go like this. Tied up like cattle, gagged and beaten, the spirit kicked out of her as the dehydration gnawed at her limbs, making her too weak to even try wriggling out of the binds. 
She felt herself dropping off to sleep, or maybe it was a concussion, he’d slammed her face into that mirror quite viciously, she wouldn’t be surprised if it had rattled her head around. Fighting with her eyelids to stay open, she jumped in her battered skin as the door unlatched, and she thrashed on the rickety bed to get away from the impending second beating. 
But it wasn’t Cyrus. A fawn haired woman entered, her eyes falling on the girl on the bed, where blood trickled down her cheek, pouring from her nose like a thick liquor. Frowning, she was on high alert as the woman approached, a small, damp cloth in her hand. 
“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you honey,” She hushed, approaching the young girl. Bugsy didn’t believe her for one second, her head pulling away from her as far as it could, her eyes wild and distrustful as the woman kneeled down beside the bed. “I’m Kathy,”
Bugsy debated jabbing an elbow in her face then and there, telling her in few words to stay as far away from her as possible, that the moment she was free she didn’t care who she hurt; she was getting out of here even if she had to crawl. 
“That woman’s your sister right?” The blonde said, and the words stopped her heart for a moment, giving the woman the chance to run the cloth over the dribble of blood, “Emily,”
“Where is she?” She tried to ask, but the gag made it little more than a muffled cry, the woman’s eyes turning down in sadness. Pity. Bugsy hated every second of it.
“She’s okay, she’s worried about you though,” Kathy said, wiping under her nose, making her wince at the feeling, “Put up a hell of a fight after they took you away,” 
She must have rolled her eyes, or perhaps it was just telling on her face that that didn’t surprise her as the older woman wiped over the superficial cut on her forehead she hadn’t realised was deep until the cloth went over it and she yawped like a dog having it’s tail pulled. 
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Kathy cooed, and she seemed genuinely guilty as she did. She tutted, shaking her head, fighting the urge to smooth the girls hair down the way she did when her own daughter was upset, “Emily said they’ll be coming for us at 3am, Cyrus has a mass suicide planned but they think they can stop him, you just have to hold on a little longer honey,” 
“I want to see her,” Bugsy tried to talk again despite her mouth being covered, only for it to come out unintelligible once more. Huffing, she resigned herself to glaring at the ceiling, biting back frustrated tears. Kathy seemed to want to say something else, but thought better of it as the twenty something year old turned away from her to stare out the window, as if she were being dismissed. 
Sighing, she rose from the bed and headed for the door, praying the FBI would get them out in time, before Cyrus put his plan into action. 
Bugsy didn’t start panicking until it hit 2:50. She’d managed to kick the small analogue clock on the beside into working, the red numbers seeming to take a millenia to change over. 
Yet it wasn’t until 3am neared, and the hallways remained silent, did she start to wonder if Kathy had been telling the truth at all. What if they had found out Emily and Reid were FBI and not her? What if they’d already been caught?
She really had wanted to see Emily, wanted to scream at the woman, who had meant well, to bring her sister to her or she would make every damn bible basher in this compound regret the day they were born. She felt helpless. She despised feeling helpless. 
It was only when she heard shots rattling from outside did the cold fear set in. 2:52. Any minute now. 
It was then an even worse thought struck her. What if they didn’t bother to come for her? Reid and Emily were safe downstairs, at least that was how Kathy had made it seem. If they got the women and children, the agents out first, she wondered if they would leave her for last since she wasn’t their top priority. 
2:53 stared back at her. 
At least Emily would make it. She was more important, had more going for her. She was supposed to be an only child anyway, mom had said it herself. Bugsy was the product of a failing marriage and a shared bottle of 1896 Bourbon that had been a wedding gift they’d never opened. 
2:54.
She could have sworn she tore something the way her head snapped to the door as it swung open on its hinges, as if two large men had thrown their weight into it. But it wasn’t two men at all, just one frantic Derek Morgan with an FBI grade assault rifle. 
The relief in his eyes was immediate, and he pulled a pocket knife from his boot, rushing over to where she lay, almost in shock, wondering if he was real at all, her heart pounding as she heard shouting in the corridor. 
“I’m gonna get you out, kid,” The man promised, slinging his gun over his shoulder as he sliced through the rope on her ankles, her eyes trained on the 2:55 that watched them as if to laugh at them. 
She whimpered, cursing behind her gag when she heard footsteps pounding through the hallway, and she was sure they were going to get caught. She thought then it would have been better if they’d forgotten about her, that at least Derek would have been safe, and he could have made sure the children got out safely, could have gotten Spencer and Emily medical. 
Derek whirled on the doorway the same as she did as a tall figure all but skidded around the corner, his legs weak as hers felt, too long and not at all built for running. Clumsy almost. 
Spencer. She should have known from the way he looked white as a sheet the moment he saw her it was him, but maybe she really did have concussion, as it seemed within moments he was fussing over her face, tearing a little too sharply at the tape over her mouth. 
She thinks she groaned, or maybe cursed him out, as he started apologising immediately, his eyes a puppy kind of sad as she stared up at him, Derek handing him the knife to cut her arms free. 
He was talking, but she couldn’t make a lot of it out, just that he was really sorry, it was 2:56 now. It was like her brain switched itself back on when she realised she was free, and the two of them were trying to haul her to her feet. 
“Come on, princess, we gotta get out of here,” Derek said, as Spencer looped an arm around her waist, helping her limp across the room where her weak limbs did little to hold her upright, her ribs throbbing with every step, “We managed to stop Cyrus from detonating it manually, but the circuits are all still live,”
Morgan took the lead with the rifle, knowing some of Cyrus’ men had stayed to look for them, that they would go down with the building even though he’d already shot their leader the moment they’d breached the front door, because that was how loyal they were. They’d proven so already with the wine. 
She kept her groans behind tight lips as they made it down the stairs, knowing Spencer didn’t mean to hold her bruised bones so tight, that he was just worried and her legs were doing the bare minimum to keep them both moving very fast. It wasn’t until they made it within a few feet of the door that they seemed to pick up the pace.
And she saw why. 
Jesse, Cyrus’ child bride that had been the reason they’d come here in the first place was holding the detonator, her face tear streaked at the sight of her husband and prophet dead on the floor, the people responsible all but dragging a lame girl through the foyer and to the doors as if they hadn’t killed a handful of her flock tonight. 
Bugsy saw the moment Jesse decided she wanted vengeance on them, but then, she guessed Spencer had already acted as he slung one of her arms over his shoulder, yanking her out the front door in a matter of seconds as Morgan pulled up the rear, and the two men shoved her down behind the small wall outside the church steps. 
Bugsy expected the bang to be louder as the rubble flew over their heads, the floor shaking with the impact of the bomb detonating, and it was then she realised one of Derek’s large warm hands held her head into his shoulder, protecting her already rattled skull as best as he could. Spencer had done the same, throwing half his body over her back as he covered his ears, the two men tucking into the wall tightly and waiting for the dust to settle. 
Spencer started coughing first, though his position over her never faltered, and she heard his chest wheezing, and knew they needed to move away from the thick smog that blew into their faces. Morgan released her ear, tipping her head back to check her over once more. 
“Kid! You okay?” He fretted, noticing the way her nose had started bleeding again from all the movement; the way the bruise had already started blotching her cheek from where Cyrus pistol whipped her. 
“I didn’t think you’d come for me,” Was all she could say, and Derek thought it was the saddest he’d ever heard her. 
Reid was pulling her to her feet then, where he was still hovering over her, despite the fact the blast had already cleared,  still sputtering and hocking up a lung, but it didn’t stop her from throwing herself at his middle, burying her face in his dusty sweater, not caring one bit if he jostled her aching ribs. 
He was trying to be gentle with her as he squeezed her back, but she knew by the way he pressed his face into her hair he needed it just as badly. 
“You saved my life,” He said, his long arms wrapping around her waist, hauling her whole body against his. 
She laughed through a cough, their cheeks brushing past one another as she pulled him in tighter, thankful, relieved. 
“You saved mine,” 
And then she heard Emily. Emily, who sounded frantic and heartbroken as she called for her, her voice breaking as if she was crying, or atleast on the verge of, and as comforting as Spencer’s long arms around her cracked ribs were, she needed to see her sister was okay. 
Ripping herself from his embrace immediately, she tore off after the sound, and there she was. Her older sister, who had always seemed immovable, like she wouldn’t so much as budge for a bucking horse, like water couldn’t drown her, or however many unsubs she’d faced could stop her from catching them. Her older sister, who looked like she’d taken a few punches of her own, judging by the blood on her blue blouse, that looked around the crowd of fleeing people with watery eyes and a shaking bottom lip.
“EMILY,” She yelled, her voice a bleat, a lamb calling for its mother, as she sprinted down the steps, whatever strength she had left carrying her to where Emily was rushing towards her, taking the stairs in threes, “EM-”
She crashed into her sister’s chest, and it was only then she started crying. 
“I swear I’ll never give you trouble again, I’ll never talk back, I’ll never be a bitch ever again-” It was all a slew of mumbles against her sisters shirt, that was beginning to wet through at the rate the tears were coming, “I thought he was going to shoot you-”
“I was so scared, Bug, oh my god,” Emily murmured into her hair, squeezing the life out of her baby sister that sniffled and sobbed, “You don’t ever, ever do that to me again,”
Bugsy shook her head, clawing at Emily’s back as she pulled her closer, feeling Emily stroking her hair softly to calm her even in the slightest. They stayed like that until she managed to wrangle her sobs into little sniffs, the fire burning her eyes where it burned the rest of the church to ashes. 
She stayed with Emily for a month after that. 
+4. The one where you leave the altar. 
She knew she was turning heads, walking down the street of a drizzly day in Virginia, hair wet and sticking to her face, makeup running down her cheeks, and the sodden, dove white wedding dress clasped in her hands as she paced towards the government building. 
Whether the guards recognised her as the Ambassador’s daughter, or whether they really didn’t want to get into it with a bride looking like that on her day, she didn’t know, but they opened the door for her nonetheless, exchanging raised brows as a trail of wet followed her gown over the marble floors. 
Heading up the desk, she flashed her driver's licence, which was enough to gain her a visitors pass she didn’t bother putting to use as she headed for the elevator, her ballet pumps squeaking under the body of the dress. Waiting for the doors to start closing when she finally let a few tears slip, burying her face into her cold, drenched palms, undoubtedly making the mess of mascara even worse. 
Her heart gave a leap when she heard someone stop the doors, hoping she could get to her sister with little delay, and she quickly wiped her face with whatever was left of her pretty, dobby cloth shawl she had yanked on before she’d ran. 
Whatever excuse she was about to give, whatever one liner she was about to drop to clear the awkwardness this agent was about to walk in on was sucked out of her when she saw Spencer staring at her, his briefcase in his hands he’d used to hold the doors, a wide eyed look plastered on his face as soon as he saw her state. 
“Bugsy,” It was somewhere between surprise and sadness, jumping into the elevator before the metal could shut again, the button for the sixth floor already lit up in a ring of red, “What are you- I didn’t even know…”
“Spencer!” As seemed to be a common occurrence between them now, she threw two very cold arms over his shoulders, tugging him for a hug he quickly reciprocated, feeling like she needed it in the moment, “It was so awful, I just couldn’t all those people staring at me, and he- I just feel so-”
“Hey slow down,” He soothed, slipping his favourite cardigan off his body to put over her shoulders, ignoring the way he cringed as it quickly got sodden, “Let’s get you to Emily, I’m sure we can fix this,”
She nodded, though he could tell she was still shaken up, the elevator dinging to a stop on the fifth floor where an agent looked ready to step in, his face dropping when he saw the sight. 
“Sorry, we’re full,” Spencer said, with little room for discussion, pressing the button to close the doors once more, and taking her by the elbow as she began shivering, “We’re gonna be just fine, you look beautiful,”
She laughed sadly with a roll of her eyes, the tears sticking to her cheeks. She knew she looked no better than a drowned rat, windswept and disgruntled, her dress full of muck from the street. 
“Thankyou, Spencer,” She mumbled, the door sliding open to the sixth floor, where Penelope and her everlasting smile greeted her favourite boy genius. 
She almost dropped her glitter pen when she saw the woman stood next to him looking like Dorothy dragged through the twister. 
“Oh you poor little lamb, what has happened to you honey!” She all but cried, the cute little pom poms in her hair bouncing as she brought Bugsy closer, taking her hands tightly. “Your hands are ice! You’ll catch cold with that wet hair, and your gorgeous dress-” 
“Garcia,” Spencer cut her off, though the woman didn’t seem to mind being manhandled into the kind grip, he guessed her state had her letting her guard down, “This is Bugsy, Emily’s little sister.”
Penelope gasped, her ponytails swishing around some more, the gems on her glasses as bright as the light in her eyes as she yanked the younger girl in for a tight hug. 
“It is so nice to meet you! Emily talks about you all the time,” She said, pulling away and fumbling through her pockets for her fresh pink handkerchief she always carried around, mopping up the girl's eyeliner. 
“She-she does?” Bugsy asked, sniffling, her body trembling as the AC beat down through the water ladened on her body. 
“Of course she does, come on, let’s go get you coffee, I have a new machine in my office that makes the best espresso-” Garcia grabbed her hand as if they were kids in the playground, as if she’d known the girl years, which she sort of had. She had, of course, stalked every single one of Emily’s known relatives, even a distant cousin that never left Europe, and that had thrown up the quiet corner of the internet that Bugsy took up.
“I needed to talk to my sister, if that’s okay,” Bugsy braved enough to say, the swishing of her dress on the carpet making her wince, practically hearing the gallon of rain that soaked the expensive fabric. 
“Ofcourse! How silly of me, I’ll bring it out right to you, little bug. You just go with Spencer,” Handing him the handkerchief, she set off towards her ‘bat cave’ in search of a hot beverage for the shivering woman, “Spencer, clean her makeup!” 
He did as he was told, dabbing the water off her face as he led her to the BAU, where Emily and Morgan sat on their desks, chatting as they finished off lunch, Emily flicking through photos on her phone of baby Henry that JJ had sent over to her that morning from maternity leave. 
“He’s just the sweetest little boy, he’s got the biggest blue eyes just like Jayj,” She said through a smile, “You know Will even said-”
“Holy shit-” Morgan cut her off, and she glanced at him, wondering about his use of a curse. Following his eyes over her shoulder, she swivelled in her position to see where Spencer led a very wet, shaken version of her little sister through the doors of the BAU, a snowy ball gown hanging off her, a veil clinging to her hair that had seen much better days. 
“Holy shit,” She agreed, immediately darting for the girl that tugged Spencer’s cardigan tighter to her body, “Bugsy,” 
“Emily, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t take up too much time- I just couldn’t do it- and I know mom’s always saying ‘Bring home a doctor, bring home a rich man,’ but I just couldn’t no matter how rich his daddy is, he wasn’t even too bad-” It all came out in a slur, not making too much sense, and she didn’t stop until Emily held up her hands, as if easing a wild dog. 
“Woah, take it easy, kiddo,” Morgan hushed, as Emily brought a hand over her sister’s cheek, wiping away the last of the mascara, “What happened?”
Bugsy took a deep breath, looking between Emily and Derek, feeling the rain drip down her back. 
“So a few weeks ago, Mom made me go to that stupid debutante ball,” She started, rolling her eyes already as Emily winced, knowing Elizabeth loved any excuse to dress her youngest up like a Barbie doll. 
“I hated those things,” She confessed, shaking her head, “I thought you’d agreed you didn’t have to go to them anymore,”
“That was while I was in college, she said at least I could focus on my studies,” The girl explained, as Garcia tottered back through the office, a steaming cup of coffee in her beloved Bratz mug. Taking it from the chirpy woman, she took a deep gulp, not caring if it burned her mouth as she wished for the damn chill to go away, “Thankyou- But she made me go to this one on the condition she would pay off some of my college loans, and I was dumb enough to fall for her bribe,” 
She huffed, taking another sip, her stomach warming with the hot liquid settling through her throat. 
“You know how she is at these things, she knows everyone, and everyone knows her. I had four guys asking for my dance card within minutes of arriving there, it was like trying to walk through a dog pound wearing a meat suit, all the hand holding, trying to touch my waist- one guy even called me Madam Prentiss,” She grimaced, shuddering at the thought of it, “Madam? No one even calls mom that-”
“Focus,” Emily reminded gently, and she seemed to nod to herself, setting back on track.
“Right. And then he was there. Byron Hastings.” Bugsy said, wrapping her hands around the mug some more. 
“Oh, isn’t he that super yummy bachelor that just inherited his fathers business?” Garcia jumped in, not noticing how it made her wince, “I hear his dad totally owns a bunch of shares in Facebook and as like just signed a deal with a new company that will change the future of computing-” 
“Not now, baby girl,” Morgan said calmly, patting Penelope on her shoulder when she saw the bride’s crestfallen face.
“Right, sorry. Your turn, little bug,” She said, shaking her head and fiddling with her dozen rings. 
“Yeah, that’s him.” She replied, running a slightly warmed finger over her eyelash where rain even collected there, “And you know, I wasn’t complaining, he was certainly easy on the eyes, and he smelled nice, like he just smelled rich, but man alive he was so boring,” She sighed, “I like computers as much as the next girl, no offence, but he didn’t once ask me what I was into or, and when I tried to bring up my degree he just patted me on the head and said ‘That’s nice’ like I was some child that had brought him a pretty colouring or something,”
“Ouch,” Emily grimaced, rubbing her arms over the cardigan to warm her up a little more, “And then?” 
“And eventually, his dad and my mom cut a deal that we’d make a good pair. He said we could be married within the season, and suddenly everyone seemed up for it, and it was like no matter how hard I tried to dig my heels in, no one would listen, and mom just seemed so pleased with me-” She spluttered, sipping her drink to catch her breath, “I just let it happen and just thought, you know, maybe we could learn to like each other, or we could just be like mom and dad and separate in everything but paper,” 
“It’s your life, who is she to tell you how you’re gonna live it,” Emily was outraged, the tip of her nose pink, her dark eyes stormy as her hands fell to her hips, huffing as if it had been her backed into a corner, “I can’t believe she would do this to you,” 
“I was fine with it, really. It's not like its the fifteenth century when I’d be forced to consummate- anyway,” Bugsy rubbed her face, “I just got there, and mom put on my veil and told me I’d make a lovely Mrs Hastings, and just the sound of it- I couldn’t-”
“What on earth is going on?” A new voice cut through the BAU, and the group disbanded like kids caught trading answers to the homework. Rossi and Hotch stood by the unit chief’s office, brows furrowed at the wet bride and his team that tended to her as if she were a princess. 
“Should we be expecting four wet bridesmaids too?” Rossi asked, the two of them making the steps down to the floor, approaching the guilty faced woman, noting Spencer’s cardigan wrapped over her shoulders. 
“Nope, just me,” Her joke fell flat as she met the stony face of Aaron Hotchner, who looked thoroughly unimpressed, “Nice to see you again, Mr Hotchner, sir,” 
His gaze slid to Emily, mouth opening to share whatever scathing remark bounced around his mouth, but the younger girl beat him to it, everyone’s eyebrows raising when she all but cut him off. 
“This wasn’t on Emily, sir, I just showed up out of the blue, I can go- I’ll go- I just need to figure out where I’m staying since I left my purse at the church- don’t you worry I’ll be out of your hair, Aaro- sir,” Bugsy stammered, plonking the mug onto Emily’s desk, backing away to the doors of the office, clutching her visitor pass tight in her fist. 
Maybe it was because she looked so hopeless, or maybe it was the way his team shot him the same look of horror he would be so regimental, or maybe even it was the fact part of her reminded him of Sean, only his brother wouldn’t have had the courtesy to apologise for his mess. 
Sighing, he gestured her to come back, “Wait,” He said her name, her government name because the other one didn’t fit right in his mouth, “Reid, get her some clothes out your go bag. Emily, tell your mother she’s safe and will be staying in Quantico until you can figure something out,” 
Heaving a sigh of relief, she launched her still sodden form at the chief, wrapping him in a stiff hug, bolder than anyone else on the team had ever dared to be. 
“I swear to god, Mr Hotchner, the next letter you're getting will be the best one yet,” She mumbled into his hard chest, and he fought off the way the corners of his lips twitched upwards. Patting her on the back gently, he ignored the way his dress shirt wet through. 
let me know what you think! mAYBE A FEW MORE PARTS COMING UP ??
Edit: This is a part one of 3 or 4 I have planned, thankyou so much for all the love on this I did not expect the reaction 🥺🥺
SECOND EDIT: part two and three are out now!! Have a look at the top where it says ‘next chpt and it’s there bbys!!
THIRD EDIT: we are now balls deep into this universe here's th link for the masterlist
Tumblr media
4K notes · View notes
5sospenguinqueen · 4 months
Text
Play Pretend | Charles Leclerc x Law Student! Reader
Summary: He's Lightning McQueen. You're Elle Woods. But, when Charles misses you, he makes it known that perhaps your career isn't as important as his wishes to start a family.
Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Baby fever? Miscommunication.
Female reader with various faceclaims. Pics found on Pinterest.
2024 but some events switched around 
I'm trying to make all of these different to each other so I'm sorry that this one was less baby fever and more baby mention.
Main Masterlist
next.
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
YourUserName just posted
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by maxverstappen1, francisca.cgomes and others 
YourUserName the cause of stress v. the support systems   tagged: charles_leclerc, YourBestFriend
6,883 comments
User1 i love how all her captions ft her degree are legal themed 
charles_leclerc ❤️💛
charles_leclerc mon ange, what are you doing in that second photo
→ YourUserName it’s probably best you don’t know, char
→ YourBestFriend cocktails were involved
→ charles_leclerc this is why i don’t like leaving her with you 
→ YourBestFriend cry me a river, vroom vroom boy 
lilymhe i still think i would be a better support system than charles
→ YourUserName and i fully agree. let’s run away together
→ alex_albon whoa, whoa, whoa. get your own girlfriend
→ charles_leclerc she already has her own girlfriend! 
→ charles_leclerc wait, no
→ User2 the prettiest girlfriend
User3 i swear charles and y/n are the cutest f1 couple
→ User4 they always look so infatuated with each other 
→ User5 umm, how? she's literally never at races 
→ User6 because she’s off being successful in her own way, and charles supports that? plus, she’s always snapped in ferrari merch on race days whether she’s there or not
→ User7 omg yes! when a classmate took a pic of her leaving a final in bright red, and she was easily the most spottable person in that hall 
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
charles_leclerc just posted
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by pierregasly, arthur_leclerc and others
charles_leclerc welcome home baby leo  tagged: YourUserName
12,298 comments
YourUserName my two favourite boys ❤️
User8 did you see in the background of one of the pics, they have his “birth certificate” framed and it says leo leclerc-y/l/n. he truly is their child
roscoelovescoco can’t wait’s to see’s a new’s friend in’s the paddock’s 
→ User9 roscoe-leo play date when please
→ User10 not until 2025 😂
User11 but let’s all take a moment to appreciate how cool leo’s parents are. he has an f1 racer for a dad, and a fashionable law student for a mum
→ User12 haha his parents are lightning mcqueen and elle woods 
pierregasly thanks mate. now kika is going to want one
→ YourUserName and you should give her one. i need a mum friend 
User13 first they adopt ollie and now leo. who’s next
→ YourUserName oscar
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
User1 the interviewer was asking about future races and charles wasted no time in bringing up his girlfriend. he’s so down bad 
User2 the way his face lights up when he talks about her. he really does love her. 
User3 oh Charles, honey, that’s not giving what you think it is 
User4 any other woman slightly uncomfortable with the way this was worded?
→ User5 lets all take a moment to remember that english isn’t his first language. he obviously meant well, and the love in his eyes shows that he’s excited about a life with y/n, it just wasn’t worded in the best way 
User6 the interviewer was so skeezy for that last comment though
User7 i feel so bad for y/n. she’s always so supportive of charles' races, even when she’s not there, and charles is talking about how he can't wait for her to be done with her degree so she can follow him around the world 
→ User8 i don’t think he meant it that way. he looked horrified when the interviewer interpreted it that way but the interview ended before he could clarify further 
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
User9 do we think mom and dad are fighting after his *slightly* misogynistic comments about making her a kept woman
→ User10 i really hope not but my heart says yes because he basically said he’ll turn her into a travel wife who only cares about his career but said nothing about her career that she’s working really hard on
User11 i didn’t realise how much i depended on y/n’s post race posts until i didn’t get one
→ User12 she always posts the most panty-dropping post race charles pics 
User13 i miss them already 
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
User1 oh god, it’s official
User2 brb just gonna go cry my eyes out for an hour 
User3 literally half of her insta posts have disappeared because they were all charles 
→ User4 the only thing keeping me sane is that any post where he wasn’t the main focus but slightly in them have been kept 
User5 can someone check on ollie? see how he’s coping as a child of divorce 
liked by OllieBearman
User6 yes, yes. this is all very sad but now that i’m done crying, can we talk about what is going to happen with leo? is this going to be a shared custody agreement?
→ User7 how could i forget about leo. do you think they’ll see each other at child drop off or make arthur be the middle man?
User8 i can't believe they just got a puppy together and now they’re going to be co-parenting instead :( 
User9 maybe this is just a minor speed bump in the road to their everlasting happiness? (yes, i’m hoping that they’re simply taking a small break)
→ User10 may all your delulus come trululu
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
YourUserName just posted
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by lilymhe, arthur_leclerc and others 
YourUserName the verdict is unanimous… I’m stressing
3,880 comments
YourBestFriend this barbies practices law
→ YourBestFriend not long left, babe. just a couple of exams and we’re qualified adults
→ YourUserName i don’t think we should ever be classed as qualified adults lol 
→ YourMum i still can't get over the fact that you two used to play pretend lawyers as little girls and now you're actually going to be one
lilymhe good luck, y/n. you’re gonna smash these! 
→ YourUserName if not, fancy running me over with your golf cart? 
arthur_leclerc good luck, y/n/n. try not to drink too much caffeine 
→ YourUserName i’m not that bad! 
→ arthur_leclerc you cannot lie to me. i have had to listen to you after three red bulls
→ landonorris betrayal! 
User1 she’s so real for that last slide tho. like miss y/l/n you are gorgeous and we’re glad you know it
YourClassmate how do you look so nice despite being in the library until 2am?
→ User2 dude, no. that line is not going to pull the stunning y/n y/l/n
→ User3 literally, the love of her life is charles leclerc and this guy thinks he’s going to win her over with a bad line 
User4 guys, is anyone else missing the sweet comments charles would always leave 
→ User5 he would be agreeing with the last slide and telling her how beautiful and smart she is 
→ User6 how about we don’t remind her of her ex-boyfriend the day before her life-changing exams
carlossainz55 good luck🤞🏼
→ User7 not sainz being messy on main
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
charles_leclerc just posted
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by pierregasly, scuderiaferrari and others
charles_leclerc there is nothing like racing in italy for ferrari. i wish we had a better result, but that was the maximum today. we’ll try again next week. 
8,449 comments
User9 did you see his interview of him on his way out of the paddock? man was in a rush with poor leo tucked under his arm
→ User10 it’s y/n’s week with leo so charles was running out there because it was time to go see his favourite girl 
→ User11 he was not wasting a minute to see the love of his life 
User12 charles racing faster to go see his ex-girlfriend who he’s wildly obsessed with than he did all weekend 
→ User13 bestie you better pray he doesn’t see this 
→ User14 why? ‘cause he’ll have to fight the urge to like it 
User15 i’m so happy that it’s y/n’s week with leo because we’re going to get the most adorable puppy pics on her story all week
→ User16 also it means that his parents will be conversing 
User17 i love that we’re all depending on leo to get f1’s favourite couple back together 
Tumblr media
Baby Fever Angst
Daniel's Version | Max's Version | Lando's Version
Lance's Version | Oscar’s Version
Oscar's version will come out next and then I promise, I'll release some of the Part 2s before making any more
(This wasn’t due out until tomorrow but I’ve released it earlier in honour of THE MONACO WIN BABY!!!!!!) 🥳🍾🥳🍾
Tag list
@lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @elijahslover @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @brsr @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @dullypully @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @sbrn0905 @hc-dutch @mxdi0 @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @glow-ish
3K notes · View notes
nicka-nell · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
How they act when they have a crush on you
Tumblr media
Pairing: Atsumu x, Suna x, Kuroo x, Ushijima x, Daichi x, Hinata x, Iwaizumi x, Oikawa x reader
Warning: fluff, mdni
Part 1 | Part 2 (end)
Tumblr media
A total bully. Constantly in teasing mode.
Whether it’s in class and he throws little paper balls at your head, pulls your hair while you’re tying your shoes in the gym, or “borrows” your homework to copy it and give you your notebook back with a scrabbly drawing next to your exercises.
Atsumu takes every free opportunity to pick on you, thinking that you take it as a form of pleasant affection.
You’re chatting with some friends in sports class when you get hit in the back of the head with a ball. It wasn’t a powerful throw. In fact, you barely felt it, but you know immediately who the ball came from when you turn around with a grim expression and see the wide-grinning blond Miya brother running towards you. “Sorry sweetheart. But ya were standing in my throwing lane.” he grins and picks up the ball. Oh, how you’d love to hit him in the face with the ball.
After school you just want to go home, the umbrella is already open as it is pouring like hell, when you feel two strong hands snatching the umbrella from your hands. “Hey sweetheart, I’m sure ya won’t have a problem if I borrow the umbrella, will ya?” Atsumu smirks at you again, already holding the umbrella in his hands so that he doesn’t get wet. You’re next to him, but half your body still gets wet as you try to take the umbrella away from him. “Hey, I’m a damn superb athlete. Can’t risk it to get sick,” he complains, putting his arm around your shoulders and pulling you towards him so that you don’t get completely wet. You walk home together for quite a while until Atsumu leads in the opposite direction to his own home. With your umbrella, of course. You can prepare yourself to arrive home soaked and chilled. Awesome.
Atsumu would never think of telling you that he has a crush on you. He assumes that you already know this and that you also have feelings for him, but are too shy to tell him.
When a guy invited you out for ice cream and you agreed, Atsumu complained to Osamu. Osamu first had to make it clear to him that you two are definitely not a couple and that you certainly don’t assume that he has feelings for you, because Atsumu is also just an asshole towards you.
Atsumu interrupts you sulking while you’re eating ice cream with the guy, completely ignores this dude and tells you that you shouldn’t eat ice cream with other guys because he likes you and it annoys him when you do things with other guys who aren’t him.
Tumblr media
Suna is probably more of a secret, very laid-back admirer who takes things rather slowly.
He doesn’t behave any differently towards you in everyday life. That’s why it’s not obvious to outsiders that he has feelings for you. Even for you.
You’re in the same circle of friends. He’s not particularly jealous when you talk to other men. Possibly also because he knows exactly what he has to offer and is convinced of himself to a healthy degree.
But after a while, you notice that he’s more interested in you. He always likes your pictures on social media. Sometimes he comments on them with emojis. A fiery heart, or a smiley looking mischievously to the side, or even a smiley with heart eyes. Sometimes he also speaks to you directly about your pictures.
Rarely does he tease you.
“Saw your picture yesterday. Looked good,” he says calmly, his legs up against the wall as he lies on his back on the bed, his head hanging off the edge of it as he looks at his phone in his hands. You’re sitting on the floor with your back against his bed, still finishing up a few things for your group work for school, when you look sideways at him. “Thank you, that was with Tsumu. We played CoD,” you answer him. “A game date?” he replies with an almost arrogant look, still scanning you from his casual position as you shake your head and roll your eyes. Suna wouldn’t admit it, but deep down, he’s glad you denied his question.
Your free classes are for learning. But sometimes you use them to just relax, chat or do nothing. While one or two of you are studying in the school's common room, you approach Suna, who is sitting on a bench with Atsumu and Osamu. Both boys are looking at Suna’s phone, who’s playing a game, when you approach him and ask curiously what he’s doing. All three boys look at you before Suna grabs your hand and casually pulls you onto his lap while resting his head on your shoulder. His hands are around your waist while his phone is in his hands in front of you. “It’s a new mobile game that came out. It’s based on a webtoon,” he answers, still focused on his phone.
Suna would probably confess his feelings to you first. However, his confession is rather spontaneous.
For example, in a store when you buy some fruit sticks on the way back home and he also pays for your stick. Outside, you tell him that he didn’t have to do that and that you can pay for it yourself, but out of the blue, he just tells you that he did it because he likes you. “So what does it matter? I did it because I like you. So bad?”
Tumblr media
Like Atsumu, Kuroo is someone who would tease you to get your attention. But not in that childish way with paper balls in your hair.
But at the same time, Kuroo would also help you and is very attentive.
In sports class, you are currently learning the basics of basketball - how to dribble, make a lay-up and so on - before your sports teacher tells you to practice on your own for the next 30 minutes. Kuroo grins at you and throws you the ball. “Do you think you can beat me in a one-on-one?” he smirks, knowing full well that you can’t. Nevertheless, you accept his challenge, start to play and quickly lose the ball. “You need to be less stiff. Try to move with the ball. And... try to keep the ball at about waist height when you dribble,” Kuroo says as he dribbles past you to make a smooth 3-pointer. 
You’re sitting on a bench in the shadows during your break. It’s a hot summer day and you just want to get somewhere where there’s air conditioning. “You should drink more. It’s pretty hot today and you’re not an oryx antelope that can go without water for long,” says Kuroo, who suddenly stands next to you at the bench and holds out a small bottle of water.
He always acts so tough around others, but he cares about the people who are important to him.
Would he tell you that he has feelings for you? Probably not, but at some point you would notice it yourself and ask him casually. 
If you asked him about it, he’d start off by rambling and beating around the bush, but then eventually admit to having feelings for you.
Tumblr media
Ushijima would probably behave the same way towards you as he usually does. At least that’s what he thinks.
But you can actually see him looking in your direction from time to time and subconsciously observing you.
He also subconsciously thinks of you, asking Tendou, for example, whether he could imagine that you might also like certain things.
In class, you are all already in the classroom waiting for the teacher, while you talk to Semi about the new shop next to the school and Tendou tries to tell Ushijima about the latest manga he has read. Tendou quickly realizes that Ushijima isn’t paying any attention to him, but that his gaze is instead wandering toward you and Semi. “Wakatoshi? Were you even listening to me?” Ushijima barely visibly flinches, noticing that his thoughts were somewhere else when he looks over at Tendou again. “Can you lend me the magazine? They always have such interesting promotions on the last page,” he says, completely forgotten that his attention was still on you earlier. Unlike Tendou, who purses his lips and narrows his eyes.
“Uhhh, tell me, did you watch the new K-Drama series? The one with the lawyers and the forensic scientist? Mmmh, the lawyer’s secretary is sooo cute!” Tendou chants as he walks with Ushijima towards the gym for training. “No. Do you think Y/n would like the series? She likes watching these things, doesn’t she?” Ushijima asks dryly, not realizing that he’s only thinking about you again. “Mmm, I don’t know, maybe you two should watch the series,” Tendou replies, hoping to finally get a little more out of Ushijima, but he doesn’t respond to his statement anymore.
It would take so long for Ushijima to realize that he has feelings for you. Whether he finds out on his own, because he realizes that this rapid heartbeat is not because of his “suddenly worsening condition”, or because Tendou gives him a few clues to think about his feelings for you.
However, Ushijima would tell you as soon as he recognized it for himself. But not with a bouquet of flowers and a romantic dinner.
No, he would simply ask you at the next opportunity, if you were interested in him, because he is pretty sure that his interest in you goes beyond friendship. Not caring if you were alone or around friends during his confession.
Tumblr media
Sawamura is a little gentleman. He would show his kind of affection through small things. The typical “act of kindness”.
Whether it’s opening the door, holding your school bag while you put on your jacket, or simply walking home together, even if it means a ten-minute diversions for him.
“Ah damn...” you curse quietly as you sit in your seat in the classroom and realise that you’ve forgotten your pencil case at home. “Dai-“ you’re turning around to ask Sawamura if he can lend you a pencil only to see him holding one out to you already, with a slight smile on his face. “Thank you.” You whisper quietly and turn back to the front.
You’re on your way home after a pretty exhausting day at school. All of you stayed a little longer in the school library today to study for your final exams. So it’s already dark when you go home and you’re upset about not bringing a jacket. “Here. Next time you should remember to pack something warm. You never know when it might rain and the temperature could drop,” Sawamura says calmly, holding out the jacket he wears for volleyball training. He himself is still wearing his school uniform jacket. After all, he doesn’t want to catch a cold. You gratefully accept the sports jacket and put it over your shoulders. Sawamura wouldn’t admit it, but he wouldn’t mind if you forgot your jacket next time as well, and wore his instead, because seeing you in his way too big jacket somehow makes his heart beat faster.
Sawamura would think long and hard about whether to confess his feelings to you, because he wouldn’t want to ruin the friendship between you. But in the end, he would be the one to confess his feelings to you first, in the hope that you would return them.
Unlike Ushijima, however, he would do it at a moment that suits him. For example, when the two of you are alone, on the way home together, in a quiet and laid-back environment and a relaxed atmosphere.
Tumblr media
Hinata is so clumsy and although he tries to hide his feelings a little bit and keep them under control, even a blind man would understand how much he has a crush on you.
As soon as you enter the room, he gets all nervous and his vocabulary suddenly shrinks so much that it feels like it only consists of 30 words.
Even if Hinata appeared nervous towards you, he would never be someone who would tease you or have a cheeky remark on his lips. Nor would he ignore you. He would also be the cheerful and friendly whirlwind towards you, just a little awkward. He would try to support you, even if it was just carrying the bench in the gym together with you.
“H-hi,” Hinata stutters and turns away, glowing red in the face, as you smile at him and greet him too. “I’ve brought water for myself,” he says with a smile and holds out a water bottle to you. You give him an irritated look, but then giggle. “For you? Yes, that’s nice, but why are you giving it to me?” you ask and notice Hinata blushing again. He’s probably embarrassed right now. But you think it’s cute. “Eh, I mean for you. You. I’ve got my bottle here! See? It’s even full!” he says and reaches for the bottle in the side of his bag, wanting to shake it to show you that it’s full. But instead, he presses down on the bottle and splashes the water on his face. You giggle, but reach into your own gym bag and pull out a small towel to put on Hinata’s wet head so he can dry off. A gesture that is probably too much for his nerves right now.
Tired after his hard and long volleyball training with Kageyama, Hinata is just about to get on his bike and ride home when he sees you sitting at the bus stop in the dark. A little confused, he asks you what you are still doing here at this time of night when you tell him that you missed your bus."Then come on, I’ll drive you home!" he says with a cheerful smile and you don’t even have the chance to say no. Because you’re already sitting on the front of his handlebars while he pedals his bike and takes you home. He doesn’t seem to care that you live in the opposite direction to him and that it will take him even longer to get home, thanks to you. “Hold on tight, the Shouyou taxi is fast as lightning,” he says with a grin and drives you home.
With Hinata, it’s a fifty-fifty chance whether he confesses his feelings to you or not. Either he confesses them to you, but then because he babbles and the words just fall out of him with nervousness, or you tell him at some point that you have feelings for him.
If you are the one who confesses his feelings first, you can literally watch a fuse burn out in his head and how he is completely overwhelmed until he realizes what you have just told him.
Tumblr media
Iwaizumi is similar to Sawamura. He would also shine through his act of kindness. Even if he would try to hide it coolly.
However, Iwaizumi also has a protective and slightly jealous side, especially when Oikawa gets the idea to flirt with you. He doesn’t like it when you feel uncomfortable or when other guys get too close to you.
“You shouldn’t carry such heavy things. You’ll damage your back,” Iwaizumi grumbles, before taking the bag with all the water bottles for the volleyball team from you and hanging it over his shoulder. “Hajime... I’m not five anymore... I can carry the bag by myself.” You answer him with a sigh. He’s a bit like your mum... far too caring. The only thing missing now is that he shouts after you in the morning to always bring a jacket so that you don’t freeze in the summer when it’s thirty degrees… “Never mind, I’ll carry the bag now...” he replies casually and turns his head away from you, but the tips of his reddish ears betray his coolness.
“Uuuhh my favorite manager is back” grins Oikawa, who runs up to you and hugs you as if you were best friends, but quickly lets go of you when he is hit in the back of the head with a ball. “Hey Shittykawa, leave her alone. We’re here to train, not to flirt with women. Especially not with our manager, you idiot!” Iwaizumi yells annoyed and approaches you both, while Oikawa tries to hide behind you. “Not my face, not my face!” Oikawa begs from behind you, leaning his head against your back. Iwaizumi tries to pull him away from you as the coach calls everyone together and demands their attention.
Iwaizumi would definitely be the first to tell you that he has feelings for you. But also alone, not in front of all your friends.
He would pull you aside, casually ask if you had a moment and just before he confessed his feelings to you. His tough determination would leave him and he would scratch the back of his neck until he got the words out almost sulkily, not looking you in the eye at first, before repeating his words with more determination, this time looking at you.
Tumblr media
Oikawa would try to win your attention with every second.
Whether it’s in class because he offers to answer difficult questions and flaunts the answer to make himself look smart and strong in front of you, or whether it’s in training when he scores 5 points only with his serves.
Even your teacher doesn’t call you by name as often as Oikawa does when he wants your attention.
He also doesn’t like it when he sees you with other guys. He always pushes his way in between your conversations and tries to be close to you.
“Oh hey, Y/n-chan, what are you talking about right now?” he asks with feigned curiosity, his arms draped over your shoulders as he stares darkly into the eyes of the young guy in front of you. “Oh eh, we were talking about the new movie that airs tomorrow,” you reply, looking back over your shoulder at Oikawa, who suddenly looks at you with a smile, the dark expression completely gone. “A movie? Shall we go together?” He’s not really in the mood for the cinema, but if it means this guy leaves and Oikawa can spend more time with you, it’s a win-win.
Oikawa walks out of the changing room with a big grin on his face. Freshly showered and in everyday clothes after his team won the game against a neighboring team. “Did you see how many points I scored in that game? It’s amazing, isn’t it?” he asks, totally full of himself, as he puts his arm over your shoulders and pulls you closer to him. “Yes... you really scored a lot of points. But Hajime was also really-“, ”Iwa-chan could only score so many points because I’m the best setter. Right? You saw that, didn’t you? How I pass the ball into Iwa-chan’s hand?" he interrupts you, almost as if it annoys him that you were about to praise his best friend. With a sigh, you just chuckle. “Mhh yes, that’s right. You’re really great.” you answer him and watch as his eyes sparkle even brighter and he happily presses you against his chest. “I knew you only had eyes for me, little birdy.”
Since Oikawa assumes that every woman likes him anyway, he also expects you to like him. Would he tell you that he has feelings for you? Maybe.
The fact that you two are always doing so much together and that he’s like a clingy puppy somehow blurs the line between friendship and relationship.
At some point, when a guy had asked for your number, Oikawa had then shouted loudly that the guy should leave his girlfriend alone. You looked at him in confusion and there was a brief, awkward silence until you asked him if by any chance he had feelings for you.
2K notes · View notes
Text
“Why’s she so rude?” (She’s Not)- Stereotypes, pt2
So I'm sure that you all thought I was going to give a blow-by-blow list of "visual stereotypes to avoid". I'm going to be honest here, I thought about it, and figured it would be redundant. My page already includes sensitivity on depicting Black people. So instead, I'm going to focus on stereotypical "character" concepts, so that you can 1) not write it in your stories and/or 2) recognize it in media (fiction and reality!) and in life!
Two major resources: the Jim Crow Museum website is an EXCELLENT resource to understand the imagery of antiblack racism in U.S. history and society. The other, White Tears, Brown Scars by Ruby Hamad. The book focuses on the many racist stereotypes projected onto women of color and how that purposeful, systemic negative perception of us bleeds into every aspect of our lives- specifically by white women/white feminists who believe that they are not contributing to said oppression.
I'll start with Black women, just because I’m passionate about it (obviously) and there are so many things I wish I had and hadn’t seen growing up. We deserve better by the year of our lord 2024.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: mention of sexual assault, assault
Misogynoir
What I want everyone to understand, before I get into this, is the concept of intersectionality, and more specifically, misogynoir. Misogynoir is the specific type of contempt and prejudice that Black women face at the intersection of race and gender. I say this because you might read these things and go “oh, as a woman, I experience these things!” I get it, but I want you to PAUSE, and remember, that right now, we are talking about Black women’s experiences. And those will often be different, due to that intersection of identities. And that understanding will have an effect on how you understand (and thus, write) those experiences.
The Jezebel
The link goes into much deeper detail, but the Jezebel is the idea that a Black woman or girl who is sexual is somehow “fast”, “salacious”, “a hoe”, “driven by desire/doesn’t understand purity”, and at its worst, unable to be r*ped/a victim because she is less valuable yet somehow inherently seductive to men.
This gets thrown around CONSTANTLY in media and life for Black women (my first experience of treated like I was ‘fast’ was when I was like… twelve?) One major, visible example is Megan Thee Stallion. Meg has a college degree, she likes anime, she’s a brilliant rapper, and has an entire personality and struggles she’s shared… But she also likes to dress scantily clad and have sex. By doing those things, she ‘lessened in value’. And because of this, when she was shot at and assaulted, even Black people questioned her character, rather than understanding that she could have been anyone, and she still wouldn’t have deserved to be assaulted. She's not allowed to be multi-faceted; she "brought it on herself".
Black girls and women who happen to take charge of their own sexuality, to the discomfort of society, are treated as Jezebels- as whores. Think about it- if one of Taylor Swift's recent boyfriends shot at her, would the media question her value or her word? Question her equivalently high ‘body count’?
Question how you write your Black woman- she can enjoy sex! She can be sexy! We love to see it! But if you're punishing her specifically, or judging her within the narrative, versus your other characters who are allowed to safely explore and act upon their sexuality… Check your judgment! Why do you feel the way you do about this character? Why do you think that your Black character is the one that should be judged for her actions. Would you feel this way if it were a nonblack character?
The Sapphire/Angry Black Woman
Ohohoho, I have infinite amounts of feelings about this one.
This is the "sassy Black friend", the "aggressive Black boss", “step on me angry mommy”, the one who does the z formation and makes everyone "uncomfortable". She’s not allowed to be confident, assertive, or self-assured- she’s arrogant, rude, and aggressive.
I discussed it in part one, but I'll reemphasize it: your Black woman doesn't have to be an ‘Angry Black Woman’ in order to be angry! Just like any other human being on the planet, we are allowed to be mad. (In my honest opinion, we have a lot to be mad about, but I digress 😅)
If the only character that ever gets angry is your Black character, I want you to consider why. What is she angry at? Was this something you wanted the reader to understand or empathize with? Are we supposed to disagree? How does everyone around her treat her anger? Is her anger righteous? Is she always shut down or dismissed for it? Is it only meant to defend her friends, but never herself? Does the narrative suggest that it’s only good in use of others and not herself? Would this be the same reaction if one of the nonblack characters was angry? Is this something you did on purpose?
Very often, we're called 'angry Black women/girls' to invalidate our emotions. My therapist once said anger is a protective emotion. We might be hurt, overstimulated, sad, depressed, frightened, anxious… But we are often not allowed the grace of others digging deeper to see that. Even if the other characters do not understand her anger, even if her motives are not meant to be understood at the moment… you as the writer should be aware. But if every time it’s time to show anger or upset, it’s your Black character… consider why this is the one you thought would best convey that message, and how your Black readers might feel seeing that this character (who may not even be the ‘bad guy’) is the one that is ‘only’ angry. No other development, no other emotions, just… there to be mad.
I take this one to heart, as someone who feels very passionately about things… this is one of those things where I wish, in life and in media, people would have more grace for Black women. We're human, too. We have feelings, too.
The Mammy
This one isn’t as visually blatant anymore in media as it was in the past (like every Mammy doesnt look like Aunt Jemima), but you may have seen this one as "the mommy figure". The "lesbian that parents the silly gay boys". The one that’s always encouraging the ship of the white boys, but never the one allowed to be in the ship (especially when her ship is canon!)
A good example of this was how people expected Jessica Drew from ATSV to be "more loving" to Gwen, rather than the mentor and boss she was (plus, as a Black woman with a Black mother… trust and believe, she was quite direct and gentle). And in comparison to her counterpart, white man Peter B. Parker, was decried far worse for similar detrimental actions.
The Mammy often serves in opposition to the Jezebel and Sapphire/Angry Black Woman. What makes the Mammy particularly annoying is that it implies that the only good Black woman character is a ‘nice’, demure, unthreatening, homely, motherly figure whose job it is to make sure to center the (usually) white ones. The Mammy is expected to coddle everyone, to her own detriment. She's a ‘good Black’ because she causes no issue, raises no fuss, never shows a negative feeling, knows that she has to ‘be strong’ but to always defer because the white characters know best. She’s ‘not a threat’, and that’s why she’s ‘allowed’ to be around. We shouldn’t have to be those things in order for our stories to be heard and understood, in order to be empathized with or treated like someone of value.
The Strong Black Woman
If I never hear this phrase again in my life, if we eradicate it from future generations for Black girls and women, I'll cry of joy lmao. I hate it, and it's not for the reasons most nonblack people would expect. Lord, this one. Anyway. The ‘strong Black woman’ is meant to protect everyone, no help needed! Whenever something is wrong and we all need a pickup, here she comes to ‘let me do it’ and everything is going to be okay! She did all the necessary suffering so that your characters don't have to! She can sweep in and save the day!
Now here's the dissonance kicks in. This one on its surface probably sounds like a good thing. She's a hero! She’s resilient! She's great! Who wouldn't want to be superwoman? Who wouldn't want to reject being a love interest, all women are always love interests! Let us be the badass that kicks ass and shows the men what for! Who wouldn’t want that, 24/7?!
The answer: US. 👍🏾🤣
This is a long, separate conversation on its own, but we have to understand that Black women (women of color, really) and White women do not always share the same end goals and understanding of "strong woman character" or even feminism. We certainly aren't always the love interest. Very usually not, in fact. We are always pushed to the side. We are already the hero in our lives, we're already the "strong woman".
Not everyone yearns to be the Singular Hero who will Fix It All as many of us are already expected to do. It's exhausting having to swallow your own needs for everyone else all the time, especially when it's suggested that you have no value otherwise if you don't. Heroism is Exhausting, and it's something worth looking into when you’re characterizing your Black girls and women. I’m not saying that we can’t be strong! We are, and it’s impressive! But I also want us to add some nuance to that strength, the way we would for any other character. What it means to have community, rather than to do it all alone. How even if she wants to be the hero (and that’s okay! That’s fine!) how it would still wear on her. Surrounding your Black girl character with unconditional support, to have a lover that actually wants to pull some weight- that's something many of us actually would like to see, because we're usually shafted to the side as 'someone who can do it all herself' (in order to hide that no one thinks we need or are deserving of the help).
It's okay to let your Black woman and girls show weakness, to rest, to be taken care of! It's not "less feminist" to accept that we're humans that need help and can't carry it all, too. That it’s okay to want to feel valued and protected. Because god knows, I wish I didn’t grow up strong and resilient, I wish I grew up knowing that the world cared that I was safe.
Standards of Beauty
These standards are not the same! I've mentioned it before in my lesson on skin tones, but very often when we think of "beauty", it’s easy to fall into the idea of whiteness. Pale skin, thin hair textures, etc. If those are our existing standards of beauty, then it doesn’t matter what any of us look like- we’re ugly! When I was in high school, I remember a classmate saying that Swedish people were the most beautiful people because of "white hair and pale skin". Without even meaning to, that guy basically said everyone darker than a stack of loose leaf printer paper was ugly by proxy of not being Nordic White (no matter how pretty they actually might be!!) 🤣
It’s also of note that whiteness/paleness tends to be connected with innocence and cleanliness in western culture, while blackness/darkness tends to be considered dirty, sinful, fearful. Now, while the origin of this idea may not be racist itself, when you spend hundreds of years implying that Blackness is bad- to the point that, in the U.S. they came up with an entire slur one step past “negro” (meaning ‘Black’) to deem you less than- it’s hard to say that the societal connotation didn’t apply.
Now we've already discussed working on describing our Black characters better! I continually remind you all that you should be describing them as wonderfully made as you do your white characters. Keep in mind that we live in a world where from day one when we enter the world, Blackness and Black features are not seen as beautiful nor emphasized. Whiteness is the standard of beauty that we, for a long time and still, are expected to adhere to. If you'd like to do better by your characters, remember that you don't have to give them "white features" or use "white" as an adjective to do that!
Black Women as Women
“There was literally nothing, not a thing, that a white woman could ever have that was worth more than her sexual virtue, and this obligated mandatory chasteness and sexual vulnerability… If the most important thing a woman has is virtue, and only white women can have virtue, then by definition, only white women can be women.” Ruby Hamad, ‘Only White Women Can Be Damsels’, White Tears, Brown Scars
Often, Black women by definition are not included under the societal banner of “women”, from our features, to our personalities, to our 'role' in life. "True Womanhood" is denied us, cis and trans, because of our Blackness. The things that make women ‘women’, we are not included under, because systemically, the only ‘women’ that were meant to mean anything were white.
I bring up Megan Thee Stallion again. Meg is probably one of the most beautiful, feminine women I've ever seen in my life. Men still call her a man, due to her height, due to her confidence, and due to their insecurities. Same with Serena Williams; Serena is damn near built like a god in my eyes. She was told she was manly from the beginning of her career, no matter how beyond skilled she was in women's tennis. Even when she damn near died giving birth- the most basic of 'tasks' women are seen as having in this society, it didn't matter. Black women are 'less womanly', 'less valuable', 'less in need' of that protection and identity that society swears Women™ need (and not in the honest way that we do need protection).
Consider that you're making sure that your Black women have the options of range of gender expression and emotions (and if they aren't allowed to, is that on purpose). If you're only ever creating us and we're in service of some dainty white woman and never the other way around... consider how that may reflect what you think our role is in your story, and in your mind.
Adultification
“Awkward moment when Rue is some black girl and not the innocent blond girl you imagine.” twitter: sw4q
It has been shown that Black girls the same age as their white girl counterparts are deemed older and less in need of protection, and supposed to 'be more mature'. Imagine that. Deemed inherently less innocent, due to your skin color. Having to parent our siblings, get jobs to contribute, do all the cleaning, and more. Yet, when we act with the maturity that we've been forced to grow into, we're "fast". A little 12-year-old girl, now to society, the Jezebel. All because she wanted to try pink lip gloss or wear a skirt; things that little tween girls might try to understand the big world around them and push boundaries. Now she's a woman, now she can never be a victim. Now she can be beat on and hurt and it's her fault.
I explain this for two reasons: One, for you to think about how your write your Black girls, and Two, for you to hold more grace for Black girls- real and fake. Do you hold her to a higher standard than your white characters of similar age? Does she inherently seem less innocent to you for reasons outside the plot? Is she as human to you as your other characters? Is she allowed to be a child? To act like one? To make mistakes? Are you as empathetic or understanding about that childishness as you are towards nonblack characters? Do you make these decisions on purpose?
It's not like Black girls can never be YA protags or anything- ofc we can. But keep in mind that she's not somehow automatically "stronger" by proxy of her Blackness, that she'd "be tougher". She's a kid. Let her be one.
Conclusion
There’s a LOT you have to consider when writing Black girls and women. I’m not going to sit here and say it’s easy, because being Black, and being a Black woman, is not easy. If you’re stressed reading it, imagine being stressed living it lmao. It’s a constant chain of quick-time events every day of your life to prevent nonblack nuclear meltdown in response to your every single action. I’m not going to apologize for it, either.
That being said, I don’t expect you to understand everything, especially not all at once. I just want you all to keep these things in mind, to question yourself when you’re writing your character- are you treating her differently on purpose? Or are you treating her differently because of a bias you might not even notice you have? It might help to go back, to read how you treat all of your characters. Or, if you’ve never written before, to maybe outline the traits of your characters and figure out where things balance out. As always, all you can do is practice at it. Because it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers.
Whew, I'm actually emotionally strained after this one. My chest is beating fast. Let me go get some groceries now.
2K notes · View notes
back2bluesidex · 5 months
Text
Novice - JJK (18+)
Tumblr media
Pairing: Pornstar!Jungkook X Fem!Reader
Theme: PWP (porn with tiny plot), SMUT, pornstar au
Wordcount: 3k
Summary: The need of some extra money lands you on a weird job. But you are not complaining, not when you get to fuck Jeon Jungkook.
Warnings: Explicit sex, porn movie shooting, mentions of pros**tution, Jungkook is a smooth flirt, reader is nervous and shy, inexperienced reader, a little bit of flirting, missionary position, unprotected sex. NSFW!!
Minors are not allowed in this blog!!
Read the sequel: We Need Practice
Tumblr media
Honestly, you have no idea what you are doing here. 
You have been zoning out for the past ten minutes. 
Keeping your focus trained on what’s waiting for you ahead is a little tough. Especially when it’s 2 degree celsius outside and you are wearing nothing but a thin camisole and flimsy underwear. 
Even though the heater is in full blast, you require to have some clothes on your body to enjoy whatever warmth it has been offering. 
You question your sanity once again. Are you really doing this? You out of all people? You - the goodie two shoes? 
Yeah, the situation has been like that lately. 
You are in need of some extra money because some fucker voiced-phised you and you, being dumber than ever, gave them your company card number and pin. Now you owe 200 million won to your company and you don’t even have 10% of the amount to do anything about it. 
Right at that time, one of your friends knocked on your door asking for a favor. 
“Please, Y/N! You are perfect for the role!” she pleaded. 
“What are you even saying? I don’t even have any experience-” 
“That’s exactly what we want - a novice.” 
And you landed on the deal or role or whatever the fuck it is, in an exchange of 250 million won. By the way, did I mention that they have paid you 50% of the amount already?  
It’s good money and a one-time opportunity. All you need to do is to get fucked on camera, get the pay and avoid showing your face around this place anymore. 
As simple as that.
Or as simple as you thought. 
But now that you are already at the set and ready to feature in a porn movie.. You are rather nervous. 
Even though they assured you and added the “blurred-face” term to your contract, it’s nerve-wracking and for multiple reasons. 
First, you have almost zero experience of sex. And must I mention that you never had an orgasm in your entire life? 
Second, the concept of the film is complicated. There is only one male lead but three female leads (including you). But it’s not poly. The guy plays the role of a male prostitute, who pleasures three different women with three different stages of experience. The first woman is a pro, second one is amateur and third one, you, is a novice. 
The first shoot was almost over when you arrived at the set and the cast went to prepare for the second shoot. Hence, you haven’t gotten to see the guy you would be having sex with. 
And it’s unsettling. 
You only heard his name but couldn’t muster up the courage to search him up. What if you don’t like his face and back off? You will have to repay the 50% of the advance along with a 5% of contract violation fee. And you certainly can’t afford to do that now. 
So you held on, arrived at the studio as per instructions, got your clothes and hair done and now you are waiting for them to call you outside. 
“Ms. Y/N?” A voice calls you from the door and breaks your reverie. “Let’s go” the staff smiles. 
You stand up and follow her outside the green room. 
As you approach the main shooting set all you hear is, well, moans and groans. And those get louder and louder with each passing second. 
“Sit here.” the staff says. “You can observe what they are doing and prepare yourself in the meantime. We’ll brief you on the scenes once they are done.” she places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. 
Too bad, ‘cause you are anything but reassured now. 
“So this is how you like to be fucked? Like the bitch that you are? You slut!” the groan of the man invades each of your senses and you are shocked to say the least. 
Is this how you are going to be treated here? You think to yourself. A shiver runs down your body when the sound of a sharp slap echoes inside the almost calm studio. Then another, then another. But the woman seems to enjoy it all. Her moans and whines keep getting louder. 
You find your throat closing up with fear. Will you be able to enjoy it too? Or will you fuck things up?  
You suddenly feel hot and sticky right between your legs. What the fuck? Are you really getting wet? Just with the sounds? 
Squeezing your eyes shut you try to think of all the things you can do with the extra 50 million won. 
“Great work, guys!” a loud cheer and sound of applause halt your activities. You open your eyes to measure the surroundings. 
First you see the female lead coming out of the set with a cloth wrapped all around herself. She disappears with her assistant within seconds, even before you could see her face. 
Then the man walks out, wearing almost nothing. 
A towel is wrapped loosely around his torso and his bare body is on full view for you to enjoy. 
You gulp. 
The man is chugging down water as if he has been wandering in deserts for years. Your eyes fall on his Adam's apple at first, then on his glistening collarbones, his built chest, his toned abs, small waist and then on his torso. 
Your anticipation makes you gulp again. 
When you finally manage to drag your eyes up, you see him already staring and smirking at you. 
And fuck! You choke on your own spit because you have never seen a more handsome man in your life. 
Initially you thought Jeon Jungkook would be a pervert-looking middle aged ajussi but this guy looks like he is your age. 
Your friends would actually pay to get fucked by a guy this hot. But you are getting it all for free? Must’ve saved your country in past life or something. 
When Jungkook winks at you, you realize you have been staring at him for too long. And now you feel embarrassed. 
Lord! What have you been doing! 
Tumblr media
“That’s it. I hope you have understood, Ms. Y/N?” The director peeks at you expectantly. 
“I guess.. So.” You reply with a lot of doubts still playing in your mind. 
“There is nothing to be nervous of,Y/N. We are not gonna send this movie to the Oscars, so you don’t have to think too much about your acting. Just do the bare minimum. Do what you are told. Jungkook will take care of the rest.”  He gives you a kind smile. 
You nod, reminding yourself that you need money and this is the only way. 
“You guys will blur my face right?” you ask him with a low voice. 
“We will. You can sue us if we don’t.” he chuckles. 
You feel your nervousness and fears subsiding a bit… only to reach the peak in seconds. 
“Hyung, are we good to go?” Jungkook appears from one of the green rooms, wearing his casual outfit - a white t-shirt with loose jeans. 
He smiles down at you and you struggle to return his courtesy. 
“Yeah, we are almost done here. Take care of Ms. Y/N, Jeon. She is very nervous.” the director gestures Jungkook to sit beside you. 
Jungkook sits down with a respectable distance between you two and takes a tentative look at you before saying, “hyung, we have some time before the shoot starts right?” 
The director nods a yes. 
“Then.. let me talk to Y/N for a bit.” 
“Yeah sure, go ahead.” 
And they leave you alone with your co-star. 
“Hey.” Jungkook says sweetly once you are alone in the makeshift secluded space. 
“Hi.” you reply with a quiet trembling of a voice.
Jungkook chuckles at that. 
“Cute.” you hear him murmuring under his breath. 
“This is your first time, I guess?” He asks. 
“Yeah and the last time as well.” you reply urgently, avoiding meeting his eyes as much as possible. 
His eyes widen at your response, “why so?” 
“I just need some extra money. So you know.. It’s a one time thing for me.” 
“Oh..” Jungkook breathes out and then says, “then I will make sure it’s something you remember your entire life. I know you don’t have much experience but I won’t push you to do something crazy. I will be gentle, don’t worry. Just leave yourself up to me, relax and enjoy.” with that he rests one of his hands on top of yours and gives you a sickeningly sweet smile. 
Now you don’t know how you are supposed to stay calm when your co-star’s mere presence is this nerve-wrecking. 
Tumblr media
“Okay. Cut” the director screams as you and Jungkook complete shooting the non-sexual scenes. 
“You are pretty good, you know?” Jungkook slides beside you as you stand there preparing yourself for the big thing ahead. 
“Ah. thanks. You are very impressive as well. I mean three times in a row is no joke. Aren’t you tired?” you reply, finally staring into his eyes. 
Jungkook’s big doe, beautiful eyes almost defy the fact that he is in this business. Almost because once your eyes move lower on his body, you’ll have to admit that this is certainly his place to shine. 
“I have a record of six times in a day, sweetie.” he smirks at you while winking at the same time. Your stomach flips involuntarily. 
“Jungkook, Y/N, are you ready?” The director screams from his seat. 
Jungkook raises his thumb to affirm him and then he looks back at you. 
“As I said Y/N, don’t be nervous. I will take good care of you, okay?” Jungkook holds your hand again. 
His sincere tone really melts your heart. 
You nod, “okay.”
You don’t know how things will turn around but you are determined to enjoy it. You will not be seeing Jungkook anymore, anyway. So, why not take the advantage? 
“Action!” the director screams. 
When you look at Jungkook again, his doe eyes have turned dark. 
From now on, you don’t have any dialogue. It’s only Jungkook who will do the talking, you will have to say yes or no as a response. 
“So, you want me to fuck your virgin cunt because you are a bad bad girl. Is that right?” Jungkook speaks in a sultry low voice. 
Your head starts spinning. 
“Yes.” you reply. 
He takes a step towards you as you take a step back. 
“Oh. you got a voice I see.” Jungkook steps towards you again. 
You know he is just acting but you can’t help but feel a burning sensation in your stomach. When you take another step back, your thighs come in contact with the bed. 
He pushes on your shoulder gently, making you sit down. 
“Then.. let me take care of you.” Jungkook says while sinking down on his knees. 
He takes one of your feet in his hand and kisses on top of it. When his mouth wraps around your big toe, your breath hitches. 
Were your feet always this sensitive? 
He sucks on your big toe briefly, making it tough for you to breathe normally. 
“Do you like it?” he asks, looking up at you, lips still close to your foot. 
“Yes.” you mutter.
“Good girl.”
Jungkook places a kiss on your ankle next, then on your knee. His other hand kneads on your other thigh gently. 
His mouth reaches to your inner thigh and hovers above your skin for a brief second.  Then he kisses down, pulling out a moan from your throat. 
“Lay down for me.” he requests and you oblige. 
Jungkook’s fingers hook on the waistband of your panty and he slowly pulls that down revealing your glossy slit to not only him but to the entire crew. 
But surprisingly you are not self conscious. Jungkook has somehow made it feel like it’s only about the two of you. And you like it that way. 
“So pretty” he whispers, as if talking to your cunt. 
His actions make you leak even more. You suck in a deep breath when you see him, lowering his face down to your pussy. 
He places a soft kiss on your folds at first and then licks a stripe along it. 
Latching his lips around your clit, he sucks on it. You lose your senses with that. Some incoherent words fly out of your mouth but you know you are not really making sense to anyone, not even yourself. 
He keeps performing his ministrations, licking, sucking and occasionally biting down on your clit. 
This is the very first time someone has their mouth on your cunt and you never thought it would feel this good. 
“Umm.. you taste so good, sweetie.” Jungkook mumbles on your clit. 
His tongue probes into your entrance, lapping up all the juices that you leak. 
You grab the sheets to find something to distract the overpowering pleasure that Jungkook has been providing you with. 
Your knees buckle, caging Jungkook between your legs. 
Soon you feel something akin to a finger pressing down on your clit, then drawing slow circles around it, and then the circles are fast.
Your eyes roll back and your throat produces some sounds you never knew you could make. 
“Fuck! So tight. I have never fucked a pussy tighter than this” Jungkook groans and it vibrates your folds. 
When he pokes into your entrance again, while circling your clit, you find something coiling in your lower abdomen. Something so strong that you can’t contain it anymore. 
And you have it. The very first orgasm of your life. 
Your juices drain Jungkook’s mouth and chin. 
“Fuck, sweetie!” Jungkook stands up, “look what have you done?” he says while climbing on the bed. 
He grabs your camisole and tears it in an instant. 
Even though you are in your post-oragsm glory, it shocks you regardless. You hear mumbles coming outside the set but then the director seems to say something that shuts everyone up. 
As soon as your tits are on display, Jungkook grabs both of those with both of his hands. 
He kneads the muscles while his mouth latches to your neck. 
There is so much happening at the same time that you don’t know what to focus on.
Jungkook’s kisses drop down to your collarbone, bruising your skin and then to your tits. He wraps his pretty lips around your perked nipples, suckling those as if his life depends on it. 
Your moans know no bounds. And you already feel heat building up in your stomach again. 
You leave the sheets and grab Jungkook's hair instead. He groans in pleasure. 
“You are driving me fucking crazy, sweetie!” Jungkook manages to say, “do you think you can take my cock now?” 
“Yes.” you say desperately. 
You are actually very desperate to have him inside you already. 
Jungkook climbs down the bed and starts stripping. You stare at him as if he is the best mountain view in the world. 
Your eyes widen upon seeing his cock and your first thought is if it will fit or not. 
“Don’t worry. I will make it fit.” Jungkook replies as if reading your mind. 
He then comes closer to you and lines his cock on your entrance. Putting his lips on yours he pushes his length in. 
A loud earth-shattering moan comes out of your mouth, which Jungkook swallows immediately. 
He grabs one of your thighs and wraps your leg around his torso, your other leg follows the suit. He takes the chance to accommodate his cock inside your hole comfortably. And once he is sure you have adjusted, he starts moving. 
At first he is slow but then he starts picking up his pace. 
“Does it hurt?” Jungkook mumbles in your mouth, not ceasing to kiss you all while. 
“No. It feels good.” you spill the truth. 
Jungkook groans at your response, emptying you for a second only to thrust his full length inside you harshly.  
You whine.
He pins your wrists above your head and stares at you while fucking you dumb. His eyes are so dark that they demand you to keep staring back at them. 
The skin slapping sound makes your head spin and the coil in your stomach starts getting loose. 
“I-I am cum-” and before you could finish your sentence, you cum. 
It Triggers Jungkook’s own orgasm. He pulls out your cock from your hole, pumps it twice and then spills his cum all over your body. 
And all you could do is to stare at him dumbly with your mouth ajar. 
Tumblr media
“That was so unlike you, Jungkook.” you hear the director talking to your co-star. 
Even though you don’t want to eavesdrop, you want to know what was not like him. 
“I know, hyung. For the first time ever in my career I lost control.” he sighs “Y/N was… something else.” 
Your face grows hot with the complement. But you know you are not going to see him again so it’s better not to think too much about it. 
You grab your bag and head towards the exit, stopping to greet everyone on your way out. 
“Hey” you greet him with a small voice. 
Jungkook gives you a big toothy grin in return. 
“Are you leaving already?” he asks, staring at your bag.
“Yes. I- um. Thanks, Jungkook. I really enjoyed it.” You tell him sincerely. 
“My pleasure, Y/N. And honestly, I think I enjoyed you a little too much as well.” he replies scratching the back of his neck. The tips of his ears turn pink. 
You giggle. 
“That’s great. So… yeah. That’s it. I will take my leave now. Bye” waving your hands, you turn your heels to leave. 
“Y/N?” but his voice stops you. 
“Yeah?” 
“Maybe if you don’t mind… Can we exchange numbers?”  
“Umm.. maybe we can do that.” 
Maybe this deal has more than just money to offer. 
Tumblr media
Taglist:
@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie
2K notes · View notes
lustspren · 1 month
Text
family ties ft Chaewon.
length: 10.3k words✦
Male reader, Male Character (starring Luke Newton cause idk) X Chaewon (playing Anna).
genres: incest (GoT (not it’s not sister-brother) and HOTD (no it’s not uncle-nephew) fans this one is for you), double blowjob, threesome, hard sex, carry fuck, double penetration, spitroast, facefuck, anal, british chaewon btw. ✧ 
✦✧✦✧✦✧
Tumblr media
✦✧✦✧✦✧
Going to the Egerton family gatherings wasn't exactly one of your favorite things in the world; you preferred to stay away from them, that way you avoided uncomfortable questions or sharp hints towards yourself, something you were used to in a family whose lineage was always focused on only one lifestyle. Kind of a black sheep was what you were, but you were never treated differently, luckily.
Still, it was exhausting having to feel different all the time. Out of place. You loved your family, and they loved you, but you just felt like you didn't fit in. That was why of five meetings you were invited to, you went to two at most.
But this time the situation warranted your presence, and you couldn't be so rude as to reject the invitation. It was a party for your cousin, who recently graduated from Cambridge University with a degree in medicine, enough merit for a big celebration. You just had to go. Not only because it was the morally right thing to do, but because her brother, also your cousin, had been trying to convince you all week.
So there you were, alone in your room while you finished getting ready to go out. You expected that they would force you to dress formally for the occasion, as was always the case when a big celebration was held at your cousins' house, but this time they gave you complete freedom—within certain limits, of course. Your cousin's insistence, perhaps, but you were grateful.
The start of the party was at 8 pm, and it was already 6:40. You lived in Northampton, a city about an hour west of Cambridge, if you wanted to arrive on time, you had to hurry up and leave at that precise moment. And so you did it. After making sure you were as presentable and handsome as possible, you grabbed your phone, your wallet, and your car keys to finally head to your destination.
That damn mansion never ceased to amaze you, even after having visited it countless times throughout your life. It consisted of two floors, with a subtle and perfect mix between modern and Victorian architecture, especially in the windows, which abounded in every corner, and the pair of chimneys that protruded from the mansard roofs.
You parked your car outside, in front of the short black fence that separated the sidewalk from the big lovely garden that preceded the house. Parked near you were a few cars that you recognized immediately, some from your uncles and great-uncles, and others from distant relatives who always attended these types of gatherings. There was only one that you didn't recognize, but you assumed it was some friend of your cousin, so you didn't give it any more importance.
When you got off you looked towards the right side of the house, towards the patio where the barbecues were always held and where the guests used to gather. Apparently you had arrived just in time, because you could see some of your other cousins ​​barely greeting your uncles—the owners of the house—and their sons. So you rushed to join. 
You walked down the long polished granite path that led to the main entrance of the house, only to then step onto the lawn and cross the garden. When you arrived at the patio, the first to notice your presence was your cousin, Jaime. As handsome and smiling as always.
Tumblr media
"Ayeeeee! You made it!" he said with a wide smile, arms open as he walked down the steps of the small deck that led into the house. "I knew you'd come!"
Before you could say anything, Jaime caught you in a tight hug, almost causing you to drop the bottle of wine you had brought for the occasion. You laughed, and reciprocated his hug with a smile.
"It's not like I have a choice, right?" you joked, patting him on the back a couple of times. "It's great to see you, darling."
After hugging Jaime you now focused your gaze on Elena, his sister, and the reason why you had come from so far away. She greeted you with the same enthusiasm as Jaime, with a warm hug and words of relief for your presence. Then you went to the dining table area, where you also greeted your aunt and uncle, Jaime and Elena's parents.
For the next five minutes you stood there, greeting all your relatives and the guests who kept arriving. Everything was going normally, until out of the corner of your eye you noticed how inside, in the living room, a girl you had not seen before appeared. You turned around with your forehead wrinkled, confused. What your eyes saw was such a surprise that you stopped paying attention to Elena as she spoke.
"Huh? Is she… here?" you asked, ignoring what they told you.
Tumblr media
Inside the house, on one side of the dining room table, was Anna Kim. A distant cousin that you could easily haven’t seen for four or five years since she was studying in Korea. You were never close to her; you only met at specific family gatherings since her father, apart from not being a direct member of the family, was an extremely busy man who did not last long at the meetings before having to leave with his daughter. Father, who, by the way, you had not seen anywhere when you arrived. Was that car hers then?
"Oh, Anna?" Jaime asked, following your gaze. Now you both watched her while she adjusted her earrings and choker. "Yeah, she arrived yesterday. She must have fallen asleep, I think."
You definitely remembered a few interactions with her, but damn, you didn't remember her being so… stupidly beautiful. She wore her long brown hair up in a high lace bun, with a few strands purposefully messy to complement her pretty bangs. Perhaps she was a little overdressed for the occasion, wearing a heart-shaped white top whose strips of sparkling sequins reflected the overhead lights and made her look like some kind of gem, and a short, slightly pompous black skirt that showed off a pair of long and sexy legs.
She looked graceful like the most beautiful and elegant of swans. It was obvious that she had turned out just like her mother, a woman from the Egerton family, and not like her father, a vulgar Korean man who lacked any kind of class. You couldn't stop looking at her for fear that she was some kind of angelic apparition that would disappear when you took your eyes off her. But you were forced to do so when she turned around and started to walk outside, straight towards you.
"Shit, keep it cool," you told Jaime, and tapped him in the stomach with the back of your hand to make him turn around.
You both turned around with your hands held behind your backs, pretending to watch the meeting. Anna stood right behind you, and in a polite gesture she cleared her throat to make her presence known.
"Good evening, gentlemen," she said from behind you. "You are doing an excellent job being the bastions of beauty in the family. Behind me and Elena, of course."
The first thing you noticed was that her accent was completely different from yours. The Egertons had a mainly Cockney accent. But Anna's accent sounded like that of a duchess; a beautiful, elegant, crystalline posh accent that, combined with that sweet voice, was like music to your ears.
Jaime turned around, and consequently so did you. From that distance, somehow she only managed to dazzle you even more with the unmatched beauty of her. She looked both of you in the eyes, hands clasped at the level of her belly.
"Well, you certainly make it difficult for us," Jaime said, with a smile. "You look stunning, I must say."
Anna smiled and nodded her head in thanks.
"Thank you, darling," she then looked at you. "Wow, I haven't seen you in a while, right?"
"Indeed," you nodded with a smirk. "Not since you left... four years ago?"
"Five," she corrected you. "But it felt like forever," she subtly spread her arms out to the sides. "Reunion hug?"
"I could never refuse."
Unlike your previous hugs with Jaime and Elena, Anna's hug was more reserved and careful, but still warm enough to feel the affection in it. She had her arms wrapped around your lower back, while yours went behind her shoulders. You weren't surprised to smell the expensive perfume she was wearing. Miss Dior, surely.
"You better hurry up and greet the guests," Jaime said. "You and Elena are the only girls in the family, you must look radiant."
Anna finally pulled away from you and stood on tiptoe to place an affectionate kiss on your forehead, followed by a rub with her thumb there. She then looked at Jaime.
"Looking radiant is the best thing I do, dear," she winked at him, and walked past the two of you to go down the steps to where all the guests were. "Wait for me and we can go inside for some drinks, will you?"
"Mother will have you constantly on the go," Jaime said with a chuckle. "Good luck with her," he motioned with his chin for her to leave.
"Bloody hell," you said, watching her greet your uncles and her friends. "What did they feed that girl?"
Jaime laughed and patted you on the back.
"I have no idea mate," he admitted. "But she is certainly a beacon in the night."
"You've been with her since yesterday," you turned to look at him. "Is she still as disastrous as she was as a child?"
Jaime remained silent, lowered his gaze and tried to hide a smile that made your suspicions skyrocket. You knew your cousin well; it was just the way he acted when he had done some mischief.
"You could say that, yeah," he said, and then he turned to look at you. "But she is a lovely girl, and an excellent fashion advisor by the way."
You narrowed your eyes and held his gaze.
"Sure," you said. "She advised you personally, I suppose."
Jaime laughed and returned to his classic position, with his hands behind his back.
"Why do you think I'm so good looking today?"
"Because you're an Egerton and because that's the minimum that auntie asks of you?"
"Believe me, mother doesn't care about me today. Elena has the deserved focus," he looked at his sister, who was talking to a boy that you didn't know but that you knew must be her boyfriend. "If it weren't for Anna I would look like a commoner."
"You've never looked like a commoner, Jaime."
Jaime raised an eyebrow, and took a few seconds of silence to look at you.
"Do you suspect me in any way, little cousin?" he asked, and narrowed his eyes.
"I have strong reasons for doing so," you nodded. "But I wouldn't dare make an accusation."
Jaime held your gaze for another few seconds, and in the end you both smiled. He then gave you a couple of pats on the cheek.
"Always so clever, aren't you?" he said. "There's a reason you're a private detective. When are you moving to London? I don't think there are so many opportunities in Northampton."
"Why? Don't you like having someone around who can know immediately when you're up to something?"
"That's exactly why, yeah. Elena is enough of a pain in the ass."
You both laughed, but he prolonged his laughter longer than you, so you took advantage of the moment to stare at both him and Anna, who was still with your uncles. Something had happened between the two of them, you were sure of that, but you were going to force yourself to not care. You'll be back home later, and Anna would probably leave back to Korea tomorrow. It wasn't relevant.
You and Jaime stayed there talking for a few minutes. It was a normal conversation, like the ones you always used to have. Even your uncle, Jaime's father, joined you at one point to talk about the last Arsenal game. But the debate about football lasted until Anna was finally able to get rid of your aunt and went with you.
"Finally free from your captivity?" you joked, as she stood next to you.
Anna sighed.
"Apparently so," she said. "Shall we go inside? My throat is already asking for something cold after so many presentations."
"Are you planning to miss your cousin's celebration by going inside to drink?" your uncle asked. "We have wine out here!"
Anna gave a small smile and squeezed your uncle's forearm affectionately.
"Take it easy, old bean," she said. "I have a lot to talk to my cousins ​​about! I promise it won't be much."
"Your aunt won't be happy if she doesn't see you here," your uncle replied, and then looked at you and Jaime. "Same with you two."
"Why does she want us here all the time?" Jaime asked. "She has Elena and her boyfriend right there, and I'm sure her friends are about to arrive."
"Yes, she has enough to worry about," you came to Jaime's aid.
Your uncle let out a tired breath and shook his head to look at Anna.
"I have my trust in you, young lady," he told her, with a finger raised between the two of them. "If you're not here for the cake you'll be in serious trouble."
"Uncle, you know I would never miss cake," Anna replied. "You have my word."
"Alright, off you go," your uncle said, and he put his hands behind his back before returning to the gathering of people.
Anna stepped forward to take the space your uncle had left, and she gestured into the house with her chin.
"May I?" she said.
"Go ahead, miss," you said, and both you and Jaime stepped aside for her to pass.
Anna passed through the entrance that was right behind you, the one that led directly into the kitchen. You followed her.
"What does your father keep here to drink?" she asked, as she walked around the island and stood in front of the enormous wooden wall, filled with tall, rectangular panels behind which the pantry was stored. "I don't want wine today."
You rested your arms crossed on the island counter, on one side of the stools. Jaime on the other hand also circled the island and stood on Anna's side. He then pulled one of the panels towards him, to reveal a shelf filled with bottles of all kinds.
"The old man doesn't even drink often," he said, picking up a bottle of Hennessy Cognac. "He collects all these things because he no longer knows what to do with so much money."
Anna scanned all the possible options carefully, her pretty face illuminated by the shelf lights. She finally grabbed a bottle of Macallan M Whiskey. You immediately looked over your shoulder to make sure your uncle wasn't watching.
"A bold choice, if I may say so," you said with a giggle, and turned again to look at her. "That thing costs like seven thousand pounds, and uncle loves whiskey."
"If he loved it so much he wouldn't have it here collecting dust, don't you think?" she asked, one eyebrow raised. She then walked over to the island and placed the bottle on the counter.
"The poor man is 76 years old, and mother makes sure that he drinks only on special occasions," Jaime said as he opened another panel, which corresponded to the refrigerator. "Do you want something for the whiskey?"
"Hmmm, I don't know..." she said, and looked at you. "What would you choose?"
"I'd choose not to drink Cedric Egerton’s whiskey, of course," you shrugged. "But, some ginger ale would be wonderful with that particular one."
You looked at Jaime, who looked at you with a smile and snapped his fingers to point at you.
"That's why you're my favorite cousin," he said, took out three bottles of ginger ale and then closed the refrigerator.
You laughed and shook your head.
"I don't think that's too difficult," you said, as Jaime grabbed ice from a freezer next to the refrigerator.
"It is," Jaime stated, and then poured ice into three small glass glasses. "We Egertons are a big family," he looked at Anna with a sly smile. "We even have a member studying in Korea."
Jaime began to fill the glasses with the drink. He poured three fingers of whiskey, and filled the rest with ginger ale.
Anna let out a giggle, classy and contained.
"That just makes it funny," she said, as she took the glass Jaime had extended to her. You did the same. "A woman from the Egerton family marrying a Korean man? Your grandfather must have been twisting in his own grave."
You and Jaime shared a loud laugh. Then you took a sip of the drink. Anna imitated you.
"I don't think your mother was one of those who cared about family opinion," Jaime said, leaning on one elbow on the opposite corner of the counter where you were. "She saw her man, tied him up and here you are. A beautiful full-fledged Egerton woman."
Anna's smile faded away.
"It's a shame my father wants me to make my life there and not here," she said, stirring the ice in her glass as she stared into space. "I'll be forced to be Anna Kim for the rest of my days. Not Anna Egerton."
"But you can change that, right?" you asked. "I mean, legally."
"Yes, I could," she looked at you with a tired expression. "But then my father would murder me."
"Do you owe that man anything?" Jaime butted in.
Anna looked at Jaime and raised an eyebrow.
"He has given me everything since my mother died," she said. "Is that a bit for you?"
"Of course not," he quickly said. "But I'm just saying that you have more of a future as an Egerton than a Kim."
"And do you think I need a last name to show my worth?"
You noticed a subtle tonal change in Anna's voice. Nothing too remarkable, but she did sound more severe. Jaime was entering swampy terrain, and as always you had to go and get his feet out of the mud.
"What Jaime means is that here in England you could have double the contacts and support from your family," you said. "No one doubts how successful you can be on your own."
Jaime nodded, and Anna relaxed her posture. Then took another sip of her drink.
"I don't know," she said, and lowered the glass to look at Jaime. "There would have to be a good reason to stay... and so far I don't have one."
She and Jaime stared at each other for a few seconds in complete silence. You wrinkled your brow, looking at each of them. In short, something was happening there.
"But anyway," she continued, finally blinking with both eyebrows raised. "Why don't we go take a seat? We're here for everyone to see."
Just to your left was a large open living room, with a big sofa where you would be more than comfortable. But Jaime took you two to another place not so exposed to the eyes of everyone else: to the living room that was right behind the dining table, separated from it by a wall that in its first half had a small bonfire and in the other a counter with a dishwasher and a bucket full of ice.
Anna crossed the small space and sat on the sofa in front of the window. You and Jaime each sat on the individual sofas on your side. Now you two were separated from her by the short glass table right in the middle, which had a bowl full of fresh grapes. Anna leaned forward to pick one and put it in her mouth.
"Mmmm..." she frowned as she chewed. "These grapes are magnificent. In Korea they taste like cardboard."
Between you and Jaime there was a small pedestal-table that reached your waist. You put your glass on top, but Jaime put it on the edge of the glass table.
"They're from father's vineyard in Florence," Jaime said, also picking one up. "You should go see it someday. Beautiful lands."
"And are you going to take me there?" Anna asked.
"As long as it's your wish," Jaime smiled, picked up his glass and looked at you. "We could even bring our little cousin."
Anna's gaze also fell on you. You shrugged your shoulders, and looked away towards the bowl of grapes to grab a couple. You kept them in your palm.
"Well, I could use a visit to Tuscany. I haven't been there since my uncle forced me to go with him and Jaime to learn about a business that I don't care about," you said, then you put a grape in your mouth and accompanied it with a little of your whiskey.
Your worry blossomed again. Now they were making plans and including you in them. Maybe you would end up caring about whatever was going on there, but if your job had taught you anything, it was to be empirical and rational. You would judge later.
Anna smiled at your response, and then looked at Jaime.
"You see?" she asked. "That's a reason to stay. But not enough."
"Is Korea that bad?" you asked, before Jaime could open his stupid mouth and say something out of place. "I'd love to hear about that. I wasn't as fortunate as Jaime was to enjoy your presence since yesterday."
From the corner of your eye you noticed how Jaime changed his position on the couch, and how he looked down, once again, to drink from his whiskey. A more than clear indication to revive your suspicions. Poor fool. If he were accused of something serious, he wouldn't last five minutes in an interrogation.
Anna's smile, on the other hand, lost some of its shine. But it could simply be because of your question and not because of the real reason for your words. You noticed her less breakable than Jaime, but still, her eyes when she saw him gave her away. Funny as well as worrying.
"It's... different," she said. "Studying there feels like hell where you are constantly elbowing each other with your mates. Nobody is... civilized. There is no unity."
She raised a finger to signal that she hadn't finished and took her glass from her to take a sip. This time she kept it in her hand instead of leaving it on the small table.
"People think they own your life..." she continued. "They think they can mold you to be what they want you to be. There is no such thing as your own path; everyone else puts it there for you."
Anna looked up to see a pair of faces filled with deep dismay. She then laughed and gave a low giggle.
"My apologies, I didn't want to go too deep down the rabbit hole," she said. "It's bad, yes. Modern in many ways, but archaic in everything else. Disgusting sexists, above all."
"I read that women don't want to have children with Korean men," you mentioned. "Big protests and all."
Anna shrugged.
"I don't blame them, no one would want to have children with those prats," she said, and she gave Jaime a quick glance before looking at her glass. "Besides... they're terrible in bed."
You two laughed. Jaime more than you. He wanted to hide something else, surely. Maybe it was something as stupid as him having found it more fun than you. But his eyes were the door to the soul. You knew how to read them better than anyone.
"Small cocks I assume," you said with a mischievous smile, and then drank from your glass with your gaze fixed on Anna.
"Embarrassingly small," she clarified. "On top of that, they don't care about a woman's pleasure."
"A big difference with the Europeans, it should be noted," Jaime intervened. "Don't you think that's a good reason to stay here?"
You frowned and turned to look at Jaime. That was out of line.
Anna looked at Jaime and gave a mocking laugh.
"Not while I've proven it myself, Jaime," she replied, and she picked up another grape to eat.
You'd already had enough of those two, and you were ready to get to the bottom of it by asking the question you didn't want to ask yet.
"Guys," they turned to look at you. "May I know what's going on between you two?"
Jaime and Anna looked at each other. Their faces showed that they were not prepared for that question. But they also looked embarrassed as they realized that perhaps they had given you just enough reasons to ask that question.
"I don't know what you mean, little cousin," Jaime responded with a nervous chuckle. "Wouldn't it be extraordinary to have our lovely cousin around?"
"Indeed," you nodded, stirred the ice in your glass and took a sip. The whiskey was already less than half full. "It's just that your irrepressible enthusiasm catches my attention, cousin. There's nothing to worry about... right?"
You and Jaime maintained eye contact. You didn't blink, seeking to force him to confess voluntarily. But that would never happen with Anna in that room.
"Noah?!" A new voice was heard inside the house. Elena. Looking for you. "Noah, where the hell are you?"
Elena's voice was heard closer and closer, until she found you. Jaime, Anna and you turned to see her. She seemed elated, excited.
"Here you are!" She said, and stood behind you to take your shoulders. "There's a friend of mine I want you to meet, come on!"
You looked up at Elena and then gave a helpful look to Jaime. He absolved himself of responsibility by shrugging his shoulders and waving you away. Convenient for him, to say the least.
"Is it very urgent, darling?" you asked Elena.
"It is!" she responded. "Otherwise I wouldn't be here! Come on, get up!"
Damn, what a damn bad time. You had no choice but to grab your glass and stand up with a sigh. You looked at Anna and Jaime. Cheeky bastards, they were saved for now.
"Sorry to leave you, folks," you said. "My presence is extremely in demand lately."
You looked at Anna and winked. She blew you a kiss with her hand in response. Then you stared at Jaime, not saying a single word as you left with Elena outside.
The person Elena wanted you to meet turned out to be a girl. You combined very well with her; she was very pretty, but also quite shy. That didn't mean anything bad for you, on the contrary it made you more interested in her. Within half an hour you had already exchanged numbers, and within an hour you were sure that you would see her again after that day.
The rest of Elena's friends also generally turned out to be a group of good lads. Some more chaotic than others, of course, but overall you were relieved to know that your cousin had a healthy and pleasant inner circle.
At that moment you were still talking to them, while drinking wine like everyone else, when your aunt approached you and put your hand on her shoulder.
"Oi, dear," she said, and you turned to look at her. "Have you seen Jaime and Anna? It's almost time to cut the cake and I don't see that pair anywhere!"
Fuck, Jaime and Anna. You had forgotten about them completely.
"Uh… no," you looked towards the house. "Not for like an hour."
Your aunt let out a tired breath and shook her head.
"Please go get them darling," she asked, squeezing your hand. "There can be no delays!"
"It will be done immediately, aunt," you nodded. "Just don't despair and keep your husband quiet."
"Go, then," she said, and let go of your hand.
You turned to Elena's group of friends.
"I'll be right back lads," you said, and looked at Elena. "Blame your irresponsible fool of a brother."
After saying goodbye you turned around, and with a sigh you walked straight towards the house.
As expected they were nowhere to be found on the ground floor. But, in the living room where the three of you were, there were still the glasses from which they were drinking. With just a little inspection you could tell that they must have left a short time ago, as the ice inside the glasses was barely melting, the sofas still had slight dents in the seats, and most importantly, you could still perceive Anna's unmistakable perfume in the air.
They had to still be right there inside the house, so you hurried up to the second floor. 
As soon as you went up the stairs you had a good range of possibilities to investigate, since it was a level almost as big as the first. Fortunately for you, just to your right was the first and most notable objective.
Jaime's room.
The silence in the house, especially there on the second floor, was absolute. A needle could be heard dropping onto the wooden floor. You weren't going to risk being overheard, so you walked as carefully and slowly as you could to the door of the room. It took about five steps to be in front.
You were going to knock on the door, but that would announce your presence, so you just pressed your ear against the cold varnished wood of the door.
Inside you heard moans. Male moans. And sounds of...
Without thinking twice you opened the door. Inside you found something that you expected, but that you still weren't ready to see.
In front of the lower edge of the bed were those two. Jaime was standing, and Anna was kneeling right in front of him. With his cock in her mouth.
As soon as they noticed your presence Jaime turned around to cover himself and Anna jumped to her feet.
"May I know what the fuck you guys are doing?!" you screeched, frowning. "Have you gone crazy or what?!"
"Noah!" Jaime exclaimed, already turning towards you once he put his cock back in his pants. "We can explain it..."
You walked into the room and slammed the door behind you.
"Oh yes, I'm just excited to hear the reason why you had your cock in your damn cousin's mouth!"
"It was my idea!" Anna intervened, putting herself between you and Jaime. "I'm sorry! We were really horny and... and..."
"Bloody fucking hell," you let out a snort, and put your hands over your face for a moment before looking at Jaime. "It's your sister's damn graduation celebration, mate, wasn't there another time?"
Anna stepped forward and placed a hand on your chest. She was now very close to you, and she was looking into your eyes.
"Again, it was my idea, Noah," she said, her voice lower and more reassuring. "Don't be so hard on Jaime."
"Anna, this is wrong," you said, matching her tone of voice. "I don't even have to explain why."
She was silent for a few seconds, and then looked down to scribble on your chest with her index finger.
"Is it really that bad?" she finally asked, and brought the scribbles up to your neck. You frowned. "I mean... we're not even close cousins, I've seen you guys like four times in my life."
"What the hell are you talking about? You share blood!" you said, somehow not being able to step back and walk away, even though you knew it was all wrong.
A giggle escaped her, and she looked back into your eyes with a raised eyebrow.
"Looks like you forgot that too, darling," she said, her voice now husky and sultry. "You've been staring at me all night..."
You immediately looked away. Your heart began to beat harder. Your clenched fists are a sign of how embarrassed you were for not being able to hide it even for a moment.
"Ah, you thought I wouldn't notice?" Anna asked. "You're terrible at dissembling. Unusual for a detective if you ask me."
"I... I think I should go," you said.
You took a step back to turn around, but Anna grabbed your hand and pulled you back to her. This time she pressed herself against you.
"Already?" she asked, with a tone of false surprise. "But you haven't even heard my proposal!"
Having her tight body pressed against yours short-circuited all your systems. You just wanted to run away, escape from that damn temptation that took hold of you with every second you spent near her in such an intimate environment.
"What fucking proposal, Anna," you said, reluctantly, avoiding putting your hands on her no matter how easy it was. "Jaime, can you put an end to this damn madness, please?"
But Jaime was not even remotely interested in doing so. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning on his hands while he watched Anna's progress with interest. Damn idiot. Every day you were more sure that your aunt drank too much damn brandy during her pregnancy.
"Oi oi, don't be so grumpy, darling," Anna said, with a couple of pats on your chest. "Listen to me well..." she stood on tiptoe and got dangerously close to your lips, but in the end she reached your ear. "You can just forget that I'm your distant cousin and let me suck your cock... or walk out that door and miss the opportunity for the rest of your life."
That had to be a damn joke. The hidden camera must be somewhere, you were sure. How the hell did you end up in a situation like this? If you had told your self from five hours ago he would probably have told you that the joint you had smoked had been way too big and thick.
However, if you were honest with yourself, you were crazy about that damn woman. But that was your heart—and kinda your cock—clouding your thoughts. Your brain, on the other hand, was screaming at you and pulling you by the ears to convince you that it was a bad idea, that it was very wrong. You had to agree with him on that, obviously.
But fuck it, you only live once.
You sighed, and turned around to walk towards the exit. Anna may have thought you would leave, but what you did was lock the door.
"Only if the little pillock is okay with it," you said, turning around, and pointed your chin at Jaime.
He frowned and pointed at himself.
"Yes, you," you nodded. "Give your bloody opinion before I regret it."
"You ask as if you don't know the answer."
You looked at Anna, and rubbed the side of her face with the back of your hand.
"You've got the green light, darling," you said, and lowered the back of your hand to her shoulder, and then gently down her arm. "Make it worth it."
She gave you a sly smile and with a gentle movement she put her hand on your bulge, squeezing it and massaging it a few times while biting her lower lip. At first you felt something strange, perhaps the still lingering knowledge that it was very wrong. But it was quickly overshadowed by your lust.
"Everything I do is worth it," she said, and then she kissed you without even hesitation.
Even after feeling her lips against yours, you couldn't help but put some opposition to your desires to touch her. But as Anna deepened the kiss and continued massaging your cock, your moral ties gradually went to hell. You ended up wrapping your arms around her tight body and clinging to her small waist.
After a few brief seconds Anna separated from your lips, and with her hands on your chest she subtly fell to her knees. Jaime stood next to you, and Anna adjusted herself so she was between the two of you. She then brought a hand to each hard bulge to squeeze them.
"Don't even think about looking me in the eyes, Jaime Egerton," you said, just watching as Anna unbuttoned both of your pants and lowered the zippers. "I want to completely forget that you are in this room."
"Bold of you to think that I want to see your dumb face while I have sex, little cousin," Jaime responded, as Anna now pulled down your pants and boxers, your cocks now free and right in front of her face.
You were about to retort to Jaime, until Anna took you inside her small, pretty, warm mouth. Then your words were replaced by a small moan. You closed your eyes for a moment, to enjoy how she sucked those first centimeters; when you opened them you found her gaze fixed on you, while she reached the middle of your shaft with sensual pumps.
Seconds later she did the same with Jaime. It seemed strange and perhaps uncomfortable to see your cousin's cock so close, especially under those circumstances, but all your attention was drawn by Anna, who despite being in the middle of such a lewd and carnal act, still maintained that elegant air that was natural to her, with slow, graceful and deep movements.
Anna pulled Jaime out of her mouth and moved towards you. She grabbed you by the base and pressed your cock against your abdomen to kiss and lick the entire backside.
"Mmm, it seems that good size comes from genetics," she said with a small moan, and put one of your balls in her mouth to suck on it while she slowly masturbated you, just like she did to Jaime with the other hand. "I wonder how good you would feel deep inside my pussy."
With that she returned you into her mouth, and continued with those deep, sensual pumps until she was halfway down your shaft. She increased the speed, but despite this she kept it to a clean blowjob, devoid of messiness. That didn't mean it didn't feel good, but on the contrary, your fists were clenched as well as your jaw, a clear sign that you were going crazy.
A few glorious minutes passed as she alternated between each cock, sucking each one with dedication and with moans that became increasingly needier, both from her and from the two of you. Then you, already crazy to see more of her, reached behind her back and, finding the zipper of her top, you pulled it down and took it off her. A pair of small, round, firm tits were left free; you took your hand to one of them, and Jaime took the other. You both then kneaded each breast and played with her nipples.
Anna's response was to moan into your cock and then take it out for a moment, to also take Jaime's cock and take both of them into her mouth at the same time, in an act of oral flexibility that left you pleasantly surprised. She used her tongue to lick both shafts, while she pumped her head a little faster. Seconds later she pulled you both out of her mouth, and then she gave you both slow deepthroats separately.
"Fuck, enough," she said, pulling you out of her mouth as she masturbated you. "I need one of you two inside of me, immediately."
Anna stood up, but just when you were going to put your hands on her to finish undressing her, three knocks in a row were heard on the door.
Your soul left your body, and your heart stopped beating for a second.
"Jaime?" your aunt's voice from the other side. You three were paralyzed with fright, with horrified expressions. "Dear, are you there?"
You and Jaime exchanged glances. You could only gesture for him to respond quickly.
"Y-yes mother!" he responded. "I'm here with Noah looking for apartments in London, but we don't know where Anna is."
"Well then go out and look for her!" she exclaimed. "It's time to cut the cake! Hurry up!"
You waited a few long, tense seconds to make sure your aunt had already come down. Only after making sure she wasn’t up there, you started dressing quickly.
"Don't think you'll get rid of me," Anna said, walking toward the door once she was dressed. "We'll continue later. And you'll fuck me so hard I'll have to stay another day because of the pain."
She didn't even let you respond; she blew you both a kiss, opened the door and left. You and Jaime stayed silent for a few seconds.
"Noah..."
You raised your arm and finger to signal him to shut up.
"I don't care and I don't want to know, Jaime, now let's go."
"Yes," he nodded with a sigh, and the two of you left the room shortly after.
The rest of the celebration continued as normal. No one suspected anything about the three of you, and it's not like you left too many clues; even though you felt the tension, you made sure not to give any signs that might raise suspicion. What was true was that you were dying to fuck that damn woman, and this time you didn't bother hiding your eyes, so she knew it very well, and she let you know it with the little mischievous smiles that she gave you from time to time.
Your initial plan wasn’t to stay the night that day, so at the end of the party you had to put on a little theater to achieve your goal.
"Oi, auntie," you said, approaching her. "My car broke down, and I'm afraid I won't be able to fix it until next morning, I was wondering if I could stay tonight."
There was really no need to use that lie; you could just stay and that's it. But you wanted to use what little modesty you had left to have a decent excuse.
"Of course you can, darling!" she told you, patting both of your arms. "You know very well that you are always welcome with us. But you will have to stay with Jaime; Anna is using the guest room."
"Oh there’s no problem, thanks aunt! I'll go upstairs."
You turned around and walked towards the house.
"Just don't make a fuss, you cheeky monkeys!" she said behind your back, and you walked inside with a chuckle.
You went directly to Jaime's room, where he was lying on his bed, looking at his phone with one leg resting on the floor and the other up on the mattress.
"Know?" you said, closing the door behind you. "You're a big lad already, why the hell do you still live here?"
"Because I don't have a wife, because I work with father and because mother won't leave me until I get married," he answered without taking his eyes off the screen.
"Makes sense," you nodded, and walked towards his closet. "Where do you keep the inflatable mattress? I'm sure you had one."
Jaime didn't respond, and when you turned your head to look at him he was pointing under his desk, where the mattress was folded.
"Ah, how thoughtful of you."
"I don't think you'll need it tonight, anyway," he replied, as you picked up the mattress and carried it to the side of the bed.
Sure, Anna. You almost forgot.
"Is she...?" You nodded towards the wall to your left—behind it was the guest room—, as you unfolded the mattress and grabbed the air pump from inside.
"Yes, but we can't go right now. Everyone is still awake."
"I thought Elena was going with her friends tonight."
"And she will, but father must be giving them some boring lecture about life."
You sighed, and grabbed the air pump to connect the nozzle to the mattress and start inflating it.
"We'll wait, then."
Unfortunately that was what you had to do for the next three hours. You two avoided talking about the subject, not wanting to make the atmosphere uncomfortable with moralistic and ethical debates at this point; you would have time for that later, when that damn madness you were about to commit happened.
It was 2 in the morning when you were sure that everyone in the house was already asleep and that Elena had already left. You and Jaime left the room, finding yourself face to face with the now dark second floor. It wasn't necessary to turn on any lights, and you didn't want to do it either to avoid attracting attention. The guest room was right next door, so you only had to walk along the wall until you reached the door. You were the one in charge of opening it, and as soon as you entered, your eyes almost popped out of their sockets at what you saw to your left.
Anna was lying on her back in the center of the bed, one leg over the other while she looked at her phone. She was completely naked, and with her brown hair now down. The only thing she still had on was the diamond choker. But everything else was visible: her long toned legs—with a sexy mole on one of her thighs—, her flat, toned tummy—another mole there, above her navel—, and the pair of pretty tits that you had already groped a few hours ago.
She looked at you and giggled mischievously at your stunned faces as you walked inside and closed the door behind you. She then left her phone on the nightstand and turned to lie face down, to also show you a wonderful small but round, firm and beautifully shaped ass.
"I thought you'd never come, gentlemen," she said, shuffling her feet back and forth. "I was starting to get cold."
"It's time to warm up a little, then," Jaime said, taking off his shirt. You imitated him.
You both stood at the edge of the bed, and Anna knelt up to get closer to the two of you. She went straight towards you to crash her lips against yours, and then the groping on both sides started right away. Her hands each went to your cock and Jaime's, squeezing and massaging each bulge above your pajama pants. In response, one hand of yours went to her ass, to grab that firm, perfect piece of meat, and the other went between her legs, to finger her perfectly shaved and smooth little pussy. Jaime also made his part, with kisses on her long neck and his hands on her waist and her tits.
"You brought condoms, right?" She asked against your lips, and then she pulled both cocks out of your pants, while you rubbed her clit and her folds. "I'm not going to fuck without protection."
You took your wallet out of your pocket and threw it on the bed next to her.
"We don't want an Egerton Egerton in the family, don't worry," you said with a giggle.
She laughed too, and she pulled both of your pants and boxers down to the end of your thighs to free your cocks. You took your hands off her so you could undress quickly, and when you were all completely naked, you continued touching her everywhere.
Anna was now kissing Jaime while she stroked both cocks. You were now able to concentrate entirely on kissing every part of her that you had not had the joy of kissing before, from her neck, her shoulders and finally her tits; you brought one to your mouth to suck and lick while you shoved two fingers inside her tight and already wet pussy. She moaned against Jaime's lips, and to get another moan out of her, you brought your free hand between her buttocks to also rub her butthole with your finger.
You fingered her for a few long seconds, taking the full length of your fingers in and out of her with gradually faster pumps. You also stuck a saliva-soaked finger into her butthole, which to your surprise presented almost no opposition as you pumped it.
She moaned again and again, her tight body writhing slightly with pleasure at the three fingers pumping into two of her holes. But after a few seconds she separated from Jaime's lips with a squeal and put her hand on your wrist.
"Oh, for heaven's fucking sake," she complained. "I need a cock inside me, right now."
"I'll do the honors," you said immediately, before Jaime beat you to it, and you pulled your fingers out of her pussy and out of her ass.
Anna moved away from the two of you and moved towards the center of the bed, settling on her hands and knees with a perfect curvature of her back, making her small, round ass look like the eighth wonder of the world. You climbed onto the bed and positioned yourself behind her, while Jaime did so in front of her.
The first thing any other man desperate for cum would do is put on the condom and dive right in, but that perfect wet pussy was too stupidly tempting, so before you gave her what she demanded, you leaned down and you planted your mouth directly on her slit.
"Oh fuck!" she moaned, tensing with her fingers gripping the sheet. "I thought I told you that..."
The next thing you heard was a choking sound and small gags. Jaime had put his cock in her mouth to shut her up, and from what you could hear, Anna had gladly accepted it, since now only sucking sounds combined with cute moans could be heard.
You then concentrated entirely on eating that deliciously soft pussy, with both hands on her buttocks, squeezing firmly as you kissed and licked between her folds. Anna was absolutely loving it; she pushed her ass against your face, smothering you between her buttocks. In response you moved your tongue up to her butthole, causing even more squirms from her, and just to spice it up a little, you gave her a little spank.
After a few seconds of licking, kissing and feasting on both her pussy and her ass, you finally knelt up and grabbed your wallet to open it, take out a condom, open it and quickly put it on. Then, with your cock ready, you placed a hand on her left buttock and rubbed yourself between her folds a few times before slowly entering her.
Anna let out a high-pitched squeal against Jaime's cock, who had her hair in a ponytail as he began pumping his hips and fucking her mouth faster and faster. You soon joined in the effort, placing both hands on her buttocks before beginning to fuck her pussy.
"Holy shit," you gasped, watching your cock slide in and out of her pussy, which had the hell of a grip. "So fucking tight."
After a few seconds, both you and Jaime put burning coal in your engines and made a sudden gear change. Now you were both fucking her from both sides in a frenzy of thrusting and moaning. On one hand you could hear the gagging sounds thanks to Jaime's cock constantly hitting her throat, and on the other the sound of your pelvis in non-stop collisions against her ass.
A little over a minute passed before Anna latched onto Jaime's thighs and exploded in an intense wave of spasms and screams that made her pull his cock out of her mouth. She was moaning a little too loudly, so Jaime grabbed her hair and shoved two fingers into her mouth until her orgasm dissipated.
"My turn," Jaime said, and you knew he was talking to you.
You reluctantly pulled out from inside Anna's pussy, and swapped places with Jaime. But first he grabbed her by her waist and made her lie on her back. She spread her legs wide for him, and made eye contact with you.
"Are you having fun, handsome?" she asked in a husky, sultry tone of voice, her chin stained with saliva. Jaime, meanwhile, put on a condom.
"I'm the one who should ask you that question," you replied, and put your cock on top of her face to rub it from side to side. "You seem to be in paradise."
"Looks like you're not the only one who's horrible at dissembling, then," she said with a giggle, and in one of those she grabbed your cock to suck on it with the condom still on.
Seconds later Jaime took his cock inside her, and Anna moaned around your cock. He grabbed her thighs and pressed them back, while you put your left hand on her neck, and your right on one of her tits, before you started pumping your hips up and down and fuck her mouth.
Anna became a mess of moans and writhing when Jaime began to fuck her hard, and all that feedback was enjoyed by your cock, which received constant vibrations inside her warm mouth. That made you moan with pleasure, the fingers of your left hand tightly clinging to her neck and your right hand now on her attractive midriff.
Jaime on the other hand was stronger and stronger. Now he had brought Anna's legs together and placed her ankles over his right shoulder. He hugged her thighs, and between gasps he hammered her pussy as fast as he could.
You were also going at full speed, your cock entering and leaving her mouth at a pace that could perfectly be harmful to her, but she seemed to love how your cock reached her throat and bulged it, because she even used her tongue on the back of your shaft, and spit all the accumulated saliva upwards to make it a sloppy mess.
That was feeling way too good, and your orgasm was right around the corner, so you waited a few seconds before pulling out of her mouth, taking off the condom, and fucking her mouth again until you exploded inside her throat.
The timing was perfect, because just as you shot your huge, hot load into her mouth, Jaime made her reach a second orgasm in which she couldn't even moan, only wriggle like a rag doll and tense her muscles, choking on your cock and your cum.
Apparently she was squeezing like hell, because Jaime also came a few seconds later, fucking her through her orgasm. He then, a moment later, pulled his cock out of her and removed the cum-filled condom to throw it on the floor. You also left her mouth.
"Oh god… god!" she moaned after taking a deep breath. "Please don't stop, take my ass!"
"You're lucky I have a condom left, darling," you told her, caressing the side of her face with the back of your hand.
"Me too," Jaime mentioned, still panting. "Have you ever had two cocks inside you at the same time?"
"I haven't had the pleasure, dear," she replied, looking at him. "But I would love for you two to please me."
Jaime grabbed his pants and took out one last condom, which he put on in a matter of seconds. Then he went and lay down next to her.
"Come and ride me then, princess," he said. "Noah, you take her from behind. I know you love that view."
"I told you not to fucking talk to me, Jaime," you reiterated with a sigh, reaching into your wallet to pull out another condom.
Anna mounted Jaime after putting extra effort on her legs, which were already shaking. She adjusted her thighs on either side of his waist, while you put on the condom and positioned yourself over Jaime's legs and directly behind her.
"Don't you need lube for these things?" you asked, and spit between her buttocks to spread the saliva on the outside and inside of her butthole.
"Saliva will do it," she said, lifting her hips so that Jaime held his cock straight and she could impale herself on it. "Mmmgh!" she moaned, again with a cock deep in her pussy, then she looked at you over her shoulder. "You just fucking do it, I love doing it raw."
You laughed and pressed the tip of your cock against her butthole, while Jaime pumped his hips up and down in and out of her pussy.
"You'd think Anna Egerton was an elegant and refined damsel even in bed," you said, pressing forward to take your first few inches into her ass.
Anna threw her neck back and let out a painstakingly suppressed scream, followed by a grunt of pleasure, nails digging into Jaime's chest as you slowly sank to the bottom of her butthole and he fucked her patiently, knowing that you hadn't started yet.
A few seconds later, when you were completely inside her and you gave her a few pumps to get her used to it, the real debauchery began, dirty and disastrous.
You and Jaime fucked her mercilessly, hard and fast, him destroying her pussy and you destroying her ass. Jaime had one of her tits in her mouth, and both of his arms wrapped around her torso to hold her tightly. You, for your part, had her long, beautiful, shiny brown hair in a messy ponytail, with your free hand placed on one of her buttocks.
After a few long seconds you didn't even care about regulating her moans, no matter how loud they were, you were so absorbed in pleasure that the possible consequences of making too much of a fuss and being discovered did not cross your mind. In a way you could be somewhat calm, since that room was quite far from the master bedroom, but still, you were playing with fire.
But you knew perfectly well that you were playing with fire, and you were loving getting burned with it. Anna's body was a damn delight, a complete confection baked by fucking Aphrodite herself. It was simply hot in every possible part, but without a doubt your favorite part was that beautiful ass, which at that moment you were jiggling with every thrust.
"Mmmgh fuck fuck fuck yes!" she moaned, her neck going back from the force of your pull. "Hard, fast! Destroy me like a fucking filthy whore!"
That was certainly not the expected behavior of a refined damsel with duchess wood. Funny, to say the least.
You gave her another spank, and then another harder one on the same buttock. She loved that, as she screamed in pleasure and looked at you with lust-filled eyes every time your hand hit her skin. You soon brought her to a third orgasm, but that didn't stop you.
"Come here," you ordered, and you climbed out of her ass to go and stand on the side of the bed.
They both looked at you and were ready to get up, but Jaime had to carry Anna out of bed, because her legs were so shaky that it would be impossible for her to stand up.
Jaime released her in front of you, and you wrapped your arms around her body to pick her up and hold her by her thighs. She immediately rested her back on Jaime's chest, so her weight didn't fall solely on you. Her arms went behind, holding on to Jaime's head with her eyes on you, while you entered her pussy and Jaime entered her ass.
A new segment of using Anna as a cute, submissive sex doll began, only this time you had the privilege of looking straight into her eyes while you fucked her tight ass at full gear.
Her legs just wouldn't stop shaking, and she wouldn't stop writhing between desperate moans, tears in her eyes. She let her head fall back onto Jaime's shoulder, allowing herself to be manipulated by you like a rag doll while she pulled him on his hair. Then she brought a hand to her mouth, and squeezed her eyes shut as a fourth orgasm hit her.
Anna instinctively bit the side of her hand, muffling loud screams and moans against it. She did it perhaps too hard, because when she let go of her hand, she left all of her teeth marked in an intense red on her own skin, one of the marks even letting out a droplet of blood.
She then simply collapsed and became heavier, so that you and Jaime had to double your efforts to hold her up in the air. She was still conscious, as her eyes were open and she was biting her lip, but she wasn't blinking, and she wasn't moving either, she was just so overwhelmed with pleasure that her brain didn't react.
Fortunately for her you didn't take long to give the last few thrusts to her pussy before you exploded, in what had been one of the most electrifying and mindblowing orgasms you had ever experienced. Jaime followed closely behind you, also cumming between slow pumps in and out of her.
You filled Anna's tits with kisses and hickeys, while Jaime kissed her neck and the side of her face, treating her like the princess she was. After a few seconds you both came out of her, while her body was still shaking as if she were being given mini electric shocks.
"Maybe..." she said in a small voice. "Maybe I will end up staying here in the UK."
Then, only then, you looked Jaime in the eyes. Curiously you met his worried gaze, a reflection of your own. You didn't say anything, but you knew that that damn woman would have a noose around your neck for a long time.
You were screwed.
---------------------------------
As always. Thanks for reading! MASTERLIST HERE!
790 notes · View notes
ikeuverse · 8 months
Text
NEW BEGINNINGS — l.heeseung
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
PAIRING: dad!heeseung x fem!reader  GENRES: fluff, humor, a pinch of angst  WC: 8.7k+
WARNINGS: mention of unwanted pregnancy, turbulent relationship, drinking, some swearing. let me know if i've forgotten anything too.
SYNOPSIS: flirting with your brother's brother-in-law wasn't in your plans after returning from studying abroad. it wasn't something you were going to stop either since heeseung was the epitome of beauty. but when there's another woman's name in the story. what happens? you don't want to be caught between a betrayal… or so you thought.
NOTES: i think this turned out a lot cuter than i intended. initially it was going to be very short, but i wanted to add a bit of plot and maybe add a one chapter or two to it to give more attention to yn with the little one and the development of her relationship with heeseung. i hope you like it!
part 2 | masterlist
Tumblr media
Studying abroad for your university degree was a dream. Spending two years in Barcelona seemed like such a distant dream, but in the blink of an eye, you were already on Spanish soil. And as if that were fast enough, those years passed so quickly that before you knew it, you were back in the apartment you shared with your younger brother.
Sighing, you threw yourself on the sofa and let the tiredness of the trip take over. Smelling the familiar scent of Jay's cologne that hadn't completely disappeared.
Being back was incredible. Now, finally, you could work in your field and be close to your family too. It hadn't been that long, but you still felt sad not just because you missed them, but because you had missed important moments with each of your family members.
Like, for example, when your parents bought their dream house. Lots of rooms to welcome their children and anyone else who wanted to sleep over. A backyard so big that it had room for your father's gardening, a swimming pool, and a small hut where your mother made a studio for whatever artistic thing she was obsessed with at the moment.
You also missed out when Jay started dating her in his final year at university. The girl was simply incredible and you got to know her over a video call, but it still wasn't the same. It was different from his older sister's attitude – even if it was a year apart – where his girlfriend would come over to your parent's house, you'd make a huge fuss and a fake scene of jealousy.
Not that you weren't jealous of Jay, but Heejin was so sweet and loving that all you could do was sigh and smile at her as she introduced herself on her cell phone screen and told you that she was looking forward to meeting you in person.
And Heejin threw such a big party as soon as you arrived. She was in charge of making the snacks and taking them to your mother's house, telling you so much about her that you were dizzy, smiling from ear to ear at the girl's excitement. Jay watched in the background, laughing now and then when you looked at him, silently congratulating you on having found someone as nice as her.
"Do you like chicken? I learned how to make this chicken paste last week and Jay loved it, I think you'll like it too" she said shyly, handing over one of the snacks she'd brought.
And she got it right. You loved it so much that you even asked Heejin to make it the next time you two met. Which never took long because she was always at her apartment with Jay or her parents' house.
It seemed that as well as being a sister-in-law, you had found a very good friend.
"I'm home" Jay announced loudly as soon as he walked through the living room door, making you abandon your thoughts completely as you jumped onto the sofa "Did I scare you?" he laughed as he looked at you, messing up your hair before walking past you and straight into the kitchen.
You stood up, walked over to where he was, and leaned against the doorframe to watch your brother get a bottle of water from the fridge.
"So" Jay turned to you, his breathing a little labored and you noticed that he was completely sweaty "I came running because it's going to rain, don't think nonsense" he warned you, noticing that your expression began to change as soon as you saw his state.
Your laughter filled the kitchen along with Jay's, and he walked over to the worktop and sat down on it.
"I didn't think anything" you held up your hands to defend yourself, biting your lower lip to hold back another laugh "I got home from mom's a while ago, I was lying there thinking about so many things."
"About what, for example?" Jay came around the counter and sat on the stool behind you. This forced you to get down and turn around to face him, watching your brother still enjoying his cold bottle of water.
"About how, even though I love Barcelona, I've missed out on a lot with you all here."
"Come on, y/n. We've already had this conversation" Jay warned.
And it was true. He knew how much you wanted to complete your fashion course abroad, but at the same time, you didn't want to leave your parents. Jay chose to stay, earning well-deserved recognition at the gastronomy school in the city itself while supporting you every second.
"I know, but I can't get this weight off of me" you pursed your lips, forming a pout that he grimaced at.
"How about we go out so you can forget about it?" Jay proposed, seeing you try to hide a smile as he leaned over the counter and took your hand "Come on, I still have some friends you know who are dying to meet you again."
"Who, for example?" you asked.
Jay seemed to think for a moment, remembering all the people from his college that you knew. Even though you only studied with Jay for a short time, it wasn't enough to get to know all his friends or maintain a lasting friendship with them. Since your brother was well known, you were afraid that he would approach you just to get to him.
"Sailor will be there" Jay shrugged, knowing that she was the first girl you'd made friends with on the design course, "and that insufferable Jake."
"Oh, my little brother will be there?" you smiled dreamily, seeing Jay roll his eyes.
"Little brother? That son of a bitch is just my childhood best friend, not your little brother, y/n."
You laughed so loudly that you saw Jay shrug his shoulders as he did so. Going around the counter, you hugged your brother and laid your head on his shoulder, sighing a little lighter after talking to Jay. It always calmed you down.
"I'm going to love hanging out with them, and especially with you."
Jay kissed the top of your head and you could feel him smile with his lips up there after he returned your embrace. His fingers were cold from the bottle he was holding, now gripping your body as he got up from the bench to stand next to you.
"So get ready, because we have this program every Friday. And you're part of it from now on" he said, pulling away from you and telling you that he was going to take a shower because it was too sticky.
You just agreed, thinking of preparing something to eat with your brother after he got out of the shower. And you started to get a little more excited until Friday arrived to meet up with some friends again, and finally go out with your brother after so long.
Tumblr media
"Why do you spray so much perfume?" you almost shouted from your room as Jay passed you in the hallway of the apartment, stopping walking and heading straight for your door.
"I sprayed it a couple of times" he said "Okay, four" he corrected after noticing your serious countenance looking at him "I get nervous every time I go to meet Heejin, so…"
"That's cute" your lip formed into a pout, beckoning him into your room while you finished getting ready "But I don't think she'll care how smelly you are or not. Considering we're going to a nightclub."
"You're right" Jay tried to relax, throwing himself onto your bed in a lazy way. "It's just that I never stop thinking about how much I can impress her since we started dating, you know? It's so different."
"How different?"
Having these conversations with Jay was something you loved, mainly because it felt like he was older and not you. So listening to him ramble on about something or even vent about anything made the two of you feel even closer to each other.
Hearing how in love your brother was made you so happy and smiley, even more so because every time he mentioned Heejin, or even you said her name or said you were talking to her, Jay sighed. A complete fool in love, you joked.
He never denied it because he really was. And it was clear every time you saw the two of them together since you arrived. Holding hands, caresses and hugs, declarations and compliments. Something so loving that there wasn't even room to tease your brother about how sweet he was being.
"We can go now" you said after a while when Jay again told you how he felt about Heejin. And how he was afraid of losing her.
Your role as older sister was to make sure that your younger brother was doing a great job and that he was an amazing guy. Not to mention that the two of them got along very well and had your approval, so that was enough.
Jay left that apartment so happy that he was smiling to the parking lot, then with you to the club to meet the rest of his friends. He didn't even notice the smile, only when he arrived and felt his jaw aching after talking to you so much.
"Hold my hand so you don't get lost until we find the guys, okay?" you just agreed as you headed for the entrance to the club and Jay gave you the names for access.
Entering the venue, you and your brother had to dodge a few – a lot – of people dancing back and forth, others trying to make conversation with both you and him, but backing away when they saw you holding hands. You caught a scream in your throat and then laughed along with him, people probably thought you and Jay were a couple because you were holding hands. Ew.
"Finally!" the voice shouted from ahead and you looked over Jay's shoulder.
With his free hand, your brother nodded and then continued to approach until you were close enough to let go of your hand.
"I thought you weren't coming" Jake ruffled Jay's hair as he approached the group, hearing the boy's curses before turning his eyes to you "Little sister!"
"Little brother!" you replied with the same excitement, only for both of you to tease Jay, who was cursing at both of you. Jake was quick to run towards you and hug you.
"Don't ever travel that long again, I've missed you so much" he whispered while still hugging you.
"I promise I'll take you with me next time" his smile widened so much that you swore his cheeks were sore from smiling so much.
Saying hello to Sailor, your only friend from university, was something you were looking forward to. She had been one of the only people at the beginning of your school year before you moved to another country, who came to talk to you without any interest in your brother. Sailor was so nice, communicative, and giggly. The two of you got on so well that even when you moved to Barcelona, contact wasn't lost. Your happiness was undeniable when Jay told you that she was still in the group of friends, now as Jake's girlfriend.
Sunghoon was another friend of the boys that you got to know as well, arriving close to high school where he was drafted onto the soccer team that Jay and Jake played on. Of course, the three of them would become friends. He introduced you to his girlfriend. Joan, it wasn't someone you knew, but she seemed nice because she complimented you a lot and even asked how you were able to put up with a bunch of boys without slapping any of them.
Maybe I slapped you here or there, but I swear I could have done more. Joan's laugh was cute, and Sunghoon's small eyes when he smiled as he listened indicated that this man had been completely snared.
"Hi, y/n. I'm so glad you came" Heejin, your sister-in-law. So beautiful, with a comforting hug and very caring. You remember that, ever since you arrived, she asked Jay if you were all right every day.
"I guess you'll all have to get used to someone else in the group" you told her as you hugged her, tightening your arms around Heejin. She kissed your cheek and then pulled away from your face a little.
"Oh, this is going to be amazing. This way my brother won't feel so lonely" she whispered because she was too close to your face, so her voice wouldn't be hard to hear. You frowned at that, what do you mean her brother?
You hadn't paid attention to the people around you unless they came to greet you. Or you hadn't taken the time to notice who was with your group until your eyes shifted from Heejin's face to focus on the male figure next to the three boys.
Of course, you'd heard about Heejin's brother and even seen some pictures of him with Jay on social media. But you were so focused on your studies or even on finding out how your brother was doing that you didn't even have the luxury – or the time – to go and find out who Jay's new friends were, apart from the ones you already knew.
Heejin gradually moved away from you and, at the same moment, the only boy who hadn't said hello was waving to the boys and heading towards you and your sister-in-law. He couldn't take his eyes off you and you couldn't take your eyes off him, it was as if neither of you wanted to miss each other's next move.
"Hi" what a voice that is, my God. You wanted to shout to yourself "I'm Heeseung."
Heeseung, of course. The name wasn't strange. Considering how many stories Jay posted with Heeseung, who was always at parties with your brother.
"Hi, I'm y/n" even if he knew her name, it wouldn't hurt to introduce yourself, right?
By now Heejin had already stepped aside and let you talk to Heeseung, but you hadn't even bothered.
"Now I have someone to keep me company," Heeseung smiled and you swore you let out a loud sigh, but because of the volume of the music he hadn't heard. Good!
"Why? Are they that bad?" you asked Heeseung.
He leaned a little towards you, his hands in the front pockets of his jeans as he shrugged in the process. Heeseung's breath smelled of strawberries, so maybe he'd had a drink before you arrived.
"Wait until everyone's drunk" he whispered, "You can bet on which couple gets the hottest out of all of them."
"Can we bet money? Me and you?" your eyes lit up at the word bet, looking like a child who had just heard the most magnificent thing in the world.
Heeseung wanted to ignore the way he was smiling so much, feeling his heart skip a beat with your smile and your gaze so close to him. Even though he had leaned towards you just to talk. He wanted to think so, after all, you were all out clubbing, and if he wanted to have a conversation with you, he'd have to get closer.
And because you were so beautiful and smelled so good, he was simply attracted.
"I didn't bring that much money today" Heeseung pursed his lips "But we can bet drinks at the bar, what do you say?"
"Will you buy me one?"
"Now? Of course" of course, he had to stop this "I need to show you the best drink in this place before you get hooked."
"Do the honors, then" you smiled back at him, almost shouting when Heeseung's hand gently touched your back. Even though no skin was exposed because your shirt covered most of it, his fingers seemed to have shocked the spot.
Heeseung felt a warmth emanating from his fingertips and wondered if he had overstepped any boundaries since he had touched – even on your back – without your permission. But as soon as you started walking, being guided by him, the boy saw no problem in following you with his hand still touching you.
"Hey, Mingi" Heeseung waved to the bartender as soon as you and he arrived at the bar. From the intimacy, the place seemed to be frequented quite often by him and your brother's friends. The man behind the bar waved cheerfully.
"The usual?"
"Actually, I'll have a Rum Punch" Heeseung's slurred accent almost made you sigh again, but you held back only because he held your gaze even though he was talking to the bartender in front of you "For this young lady here."
"Oh, new here?" Mingi began to prepare the drink, showing off his skills with the utensils and how to stir that metal glass that you didn't even know didn't spill a drop.
"I've been away for two years" your voice came out a little louder than you would have liked, but Mingi smiled and shook his head "I'm Jay's sister."
"No kidding!" he seemed shocked by the information and you almost asked if it was bad to be Jay's sister or something "Jongseong, that ugly guy, has such a beautiful sister?"
Shit, your cheeks started to heat up. But you couldn't tell if it was because of Mingi's compliment or because Heeseung's hand slid from your back to your waist. He was still touching you, and it didn't seem to bother him or you.
"Here, Miss Park" he smiled after placing the glass on the counter, "enjoy the best of our bar."
You thanked him and took the glass, turning to face Heeseung.
"I hope you like it because, honestly, it would suck to say this is the best drink and have you hate it" he pressed his lips together, looking a little apprehensive about your reaction. You laughed at how cute he looked, agreeing with a little nod.
Touching your lips to the glass, you took a small sip just to test it out. As Heeseung said, it would be a shame for you to hate something that he advertised so much. But no, you loved it! And your murmur of approval only made his smile grow even wider, so you took another long sip before offering it to him.
"Come on, have some since you introduced me to it" you smiled at him as you tilted the glass for Heeseung to take. But he seemed too busy still holding your waist, with both hands this time. One on either side of you, making you want to scream and at the same time take a step forward and stand so close to him.
That drink wasn't taking effect that quickly, but it was Heeseung's fingers on your body that were making you like this.
So you held your breath a little when he leaned over, touching his lips to the glass and looking at you. A silent request for you to turn the contents just right because he wanted to drink from your hand. Heeseung wanted you to give him the drink.
And you did.
You carefully turned that glass until he had a good sip and then turned away to wipe his lips with the tip of his tongue and moan in satisfaction at the liquid going down his throat.
"Like I said, y/n" he said, his eyes wandering around the club and then finding you again. Heeseung leaned close enough so that his face was close to yours – for the second time that night – and his gaze quickly fell to your mouth "This is the best drink in the bar, and the night is going to be so long that we can try as many as you want" why had he whispered that part? Why was Heeseung whispering while staring at your lips?
You just nodded, sipping some more of that good, newfound liquid, as you felt him pull you into the middle of the dance floor.
The boy was right, it was going to be a long night.
Tumblr media
You didn't know that your sister-in-law was a graduate in the same field as you at university in Barcelona. You also didn't know that you would receive an offer from the studio where she worked and, a few days later, be hired.
You also didn't know that your relationship with Heeseung had become pure flirtation, smiles in each other's direction and gentle touches on the hands, waist, and even long hugs when he went to pick up Heejin and ended up giving you a lift too. Or when he went to visit Jay to play video games in his living room. You also didn't know that you would let Heeseung lean his head on your shoulder and fall asleep so deeply on the first night of movies in your shared apartment with your brother after Sunghoon said he didn't want to go clubbing that day.
Everything was going so differently from what you had envisioned for your return to the city, but no way could describe the way you felt with Heeseung. Because it was different, wasn't it? You felt that way.
Because you didn't feel a chill in your stomach when Jake laid his head on your lap after coming home from work, or you didn't feel your face heat up after Sunghoon kissed the top of your head when you all decided to meet up for dinner. So why did you feel those things with Heeseung? He also lay on your lap, he also kissed the top of your head. But only he was able to take away your sleep some nights, resulting in you being almost late for work and hearing Heejin ask if everything was okay.
"Jongseong was playing late again?" she asked angrily, making you laugh.
Thinking about your brother, you wanted to answer but settled for pressing your lips together to avoid smiling.
"I've just had a bad night" your lips quickly curled into a pout and she imitated you.
"I know someone who can help you with that" Heejin hummed, picking up her cell phone and typing a few things as she watched you go to your desk.
Trying to stop her from talking to Heeseung was practically impossible, as she and Jay did a great job of making you feel awkward in front of him. But not in a bad way, not at all. The two of them only managed to make you shyer and shyer every time something happened.
Do you need help with the popcorn in the kitchen? Heeseung, help y/n. I'm watching the movie with your sister.
Are you going out for dinner? Heeseung and y/n sit next to each other, their seats already assigned.
When you all decided to go to the amusement park together and he wasn't too keen on entering the castle of horrors? My sister will hold your hand and, if the fear goes away, you can kiss her as a reward. Jay's sentence could have been a whisper only to him and Heeseung, but because you were so close, it was sure to have been heard.
"Y/n, I… I'm sorry—" you took his hand, entwining your fingers in Heeseung's as you smiled at the boy.
"You heard my brother, right?" now Heeseung felt even more courageous with your words. So he could kiss you after everyone had passed through that castle of horrors? Surely he wouldn't miss it.
But he did.
As soon as you all left, Heeseung received a call that he urgently needed to go home. You didn't object and the others seemed to understand perfectly when the boy said goodbye, you being the only one who received a quick kiss on the cheek before he ran out of the park.
"I wonder what happened?" Sailor asked as you all started walking to the park's next attraction.
"Maybe it's because of Aimi, he said he'd be alert in case he needed to go home" Jake intertwined his fingers with Sailor's and walked beside her.
Just then, you stopped. Wait, Aimi? Heeseung had someone else? No, it couldn't be.
All that time you two were exchanging, you were being part of a betrayal? Holy shit. It couldn't be possible.
The whole situation put a lump in your throat and your stomach began to churn. You walked with your friends out of sheer habit, seeing that they were all in the queue for the rollercoaster. By instinct, Jay looked in your direction and saw how scattered you were, walking over to stand next to you.
"It's just a rollercoaster, you know? You don't have to be scared" he joked, laughing a little as he put his arm around your shoulders.
Trying to be gentle, you pushed his arm away, starting to feel a weight on your chest that you didn't even know existed.
"I… I'm going home" your voice came out shaky. Shit, don't do that, y/n!
"What? Y/n, is everything all right?" Jay looked at you now rather worriedly, holding you by the shoulders and, once again, feeling your hands drop as you walked away.
Your brain didn't process the fact that your legs were quickly pulling you out of there, walking away from the roller coaster queue while you listened to the boys calling you. You ignored it completely and walked to the parking lot where you tried to look for your brother's car since Heeseung had left and you had gone with him to the park.
"Shit. Shit, shit, shit" the curses were starting to flood out of you as your eyes stung, but you weren't going to cry. Not because of that.
For God's sake, the two of you hadn't even kissed, why feel so stupid?
"Y/n, I found you!" Jay was panting behind you, having stopped running and feeling his heartbeat speed up even more from the little exercise he'd done to find you.
He then walked towards you very slowly, trying to catch his breath and testing whether he could do it since you had pushed him away twice in less than a minute.
"Hey, are you all right?" he asked "It was the rollercoaster game—"
"Why didn't anyone tell me?" you interrupted him.
Jay frowned in response, glancing at you as soon as you stopped right in front of him and caught a glimpse of your face in the dim light of the amusement park parking lot. He saw your watery eyes and knew you could cry at any moment.
"What about?" he asked you again, and you realized that it couldn't be that he knew either since, in your brother's mind, you were like that for the roller coaster. But wasn't it obvious that it was for Heeseung? It didn't make sense.
Your chest ached a little more when you remembered his static face when you left quickly and how your friends commented on the girl so naturally that it was as if you weren't there.
You opened and closed your mouth, tried to say something and nothing came out the way you wanted it to. It sucked that everything was like that. When you finally plucked up the courage to talk to your brother, your phone rang, startling you both.
The handset came out of your back pocket and Heeseung's name flashed up on the screen. You didn't realize the grimace you were making until you looked at Jay and saw that he was waiting for you to pick up, but you didn't. You simply hung up. You simply hung up.
"What's going on?" he kept looking at you.
"Nothing" another ring from Heeseung and you would have hung up if Jay hadn't been quicker and answered on the second ring.
"Hey dude, it's Jay" you could hear Heeseung's voice in the background, but you couldn't understand much of what he was saying. Something seemed to touch the back of your brother's mind because he laughed deeply as he looked at you.
What's funny, asshole? You hissed while he still had your phone to his ear and was talking to Heeseung.
"Maybe that's why, but I'm not the one who's going to explain it to her" your brother's gaze was mixed as Heeseung said a few more words and the two finally hung up.
"What the fuck was that, Jay?"
"Heeseung called me… I mean, he called you to explain why he'd left so quickly" he told you.
"I think Jake already did that" you shrugged, showing how encouraging the conversation was because your sarcastic smile said it all.
"Listen, sis. It's not that—"
"Jay, please don't" you whimpered "I'm feeling terrible because all this time no one told me that Heeseung had someone else and we were acting like…"
"A couple, I know" you really hated it when Jay was able to complete his sentences more directly because maybe you would only respond like two people with more touches "That's exactly why he needs to explain it to you, not me."
"I don't want to listen, thank you."
"But you kind of will" he pursed his lips and put his hands in his trouser pockets, running his tongue over lower lip to suppress a smile "Because every two weeks Heejin and I go to Mom's for lunch, and this time since you're here, I'm going to make a point of calling Heeseung too."
"You wouldn't do that…"
"Oh, I would" Jay smiled this time.
And you knew for sure that your dear brother would be able to do it.
Tumblr media
You felt like jumping over the kitchen counter and lunging at Jay, but you were left to stir the chocolate in the pan to make a ganache for dessert. Your brother, smiling even too much, put the tomato slices in the glass dish while looking at you now and then and holding back a laugh.
"Cancel it with him, please" you almost cried, almost got down on your knees to Jay begging him not to come.
"Nope" he hummed, excitedly, "I like having my brother-in-law here. Besides, Mom loves it when he brings Aimi along."
"You're a motherfucker—"
"Hey, why am I being cursed at?" your mother chimed in. Jay burst into laughter and you just rolled your eyes, choosing to forget the conversation.
But your brother seemed to have plans to annoy you all weekend, and it was only Saturday. You wouldn't be able to stand it without hitting him once.
"I was telling y/n about Aimi" Jay said.
"Oh, I miss her so much" your mother said with such love that you rolled your eyes at the melted chocolate just so you wouldn't have to face the two of them who were heaping praise on Aimi.
For God's sake, did they have to do that in front of you? Maybe your mother didn't know what had happened between you and Heeseung, so the poor thing wouldn't be punished by your eyes almost shooting her. But your brother would. That asshole was going to pay dearly for every mention of Aimi's name and the way he openly smiled at you after saying it.
It didn't make sense for Jay to tease you about it, it didn't make sense for any of your friends to be into that sort of thing. Everyone there was dating, so why did things have to go that way with Heeseung?
Had Jay already cheated on Heejin, so he was an accomplice? Or had Jake and Sunghoon also been unfaithful, hence the partnership?
It wasn't easy to get into your head and you spent almost the whole week mulling it over, as well as running away from all Heejin's questions and why you were ignoring her brother.
"I just… I don't know, Heejin" you replied.
But she knew, of course, she knew. The only way to understand what was going on was to ask Jay, and like a good gossip, he would tell his girlfriend. Heejin even thought about clearing up the misunderstanding, but as her boyfriend had said, Heeseung was the one to do it.
So it was easy to convince him to go to lunch at your mother's house. You wanted to think it was because of the pool out back or her food, not because he had to explain something to you because you didn't want to hear it.
You refused to fall for his charms while he explained why he had cheated on you for a long time – totaling a month and a half, unfortunately, you counted – only for you to discover that there was another woman. And it wasn't even Heeseung who told you, it came out of Jake's mouth.
If your friend hadn't said anything at the amusement park, would you have known about her? Or would you continue to be fooled until you kissed Heeseung, fell even more in love and then he left you?
"Shit" you cursed quietly when the doorbell snapped you out of your thoughts.
All the food had been ready for a long time and you and your brother had decided to wait, sipping a glass of wine that your mother always left out for you to enjoy while they cooked.
It had to be the Lee siblings, so you decided to fill your glass and lean on the kitchen counter, not having the courage to move your feet as your brother walked past you and smiled with his mouth against the glass he was drinking.
"My love" Jay called out, and you knew it was Heejin he was greeting.
"Heeseung, Aimi!" that was your mother, and your stomach immediately churned at the mention of her name "Y/n, come over here."
I don't want to.
You should answer, that's what you had to do.
But contrary to your thoughts, your feet betrayed you and made you walk to the kitchen door so slowly that you were almost dragging yourself. Perhaps the glass of wine could have helped and stopped you from hugging them both, it would have been a perfect excuse while you just greeted everyone and went back to the kitchen.
As soon as you arrived, your eyes went straight to Heeseung and… A child? Heeseung was holding a little girl in his arms and she was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.
Dark hair, curious eyes, and flushed cheeks. She closed her little eyes as she smiled when Jay approached to take her in his arms, hearing the most delightful giggle you could ever remember a child having.
"Hey" Heejin greeted you before anyone could say anything. The two boys were very entertained by the little girl, who was mumbling a few things and talking to them, while your mother was already looking for a cartoon channel for her to watch "Are you okay?" your sister-in-law toasted with her full glass, and it was then that you noticed that she was holding Jay's glass.
Your head just nodded, saying nothing until Heeseung's eyes landed on you. He frowned when he saw how much wine was in your glass and you couldn't hide it since, as it was full, any sudden movement to place it behind your body could cause it to tip over.
Jay still had the little one on his lap and held her hand as he turned to you. She smiled in your direction and you tried to smile back, begging the heavens you hadn't made a face to scare the poor thing.
"Hi, y/n" Heeseung said directly to you as soon as you arrived at your mother's house. You shook your head at him, a silent way of saying hello. Your voice would waver if you said anything since it was the first time you'd seen him since the day at the amusement park, so you couldn't risk having a shaky, slurred, or harsh voice. So just a nod would be fine.
"You can choose any cartoon that uncle Jay will watch with you before lunch" Jay raised his hand and the little girl clapped it, making an animated hi-five as you watched your brother walk over to the sofa with her.
Your eyes lingered too long on the two of them animatedly chatting about the colorful cartoon characters that you didn't notice that Heejin had gone to talk to his mother and Heeseung was standing in front of you.
Hands in his pants pockets, hair slightly mussed, and biting his lower lip. He looked a little apprehensive for his taste.
"Y/n…"
"Bathroom" the little girl announced before Heeseung could even finish his sentence. He quickly looked over to where she was sitting and excused himself as he picked her up.
"Ready to use the bathroom?" he had such a beautiful smile when he talked to her that it seemed too encouraging, you almost forgot that you were angry with him "I'll be right back" Heeseung said before disappearing down the corridor in search of the downstairs bathroom.
That's how long it took you to stare at Jay and take a long sip of your wine before you saw him return with the little girl still on his lap.
"I did it, uncle Jay" she celebrated and Jay got up from the sofa, picking her up again.
"You were amazing, you know that? Your dad and I are so proud of you," he said.
Dad?
You bit your tongue to keep from screaming at that moment. The only thought running through your mind when Heeseung was still in the middle of the room but with his gaze fully on you.
"Y/n, that's Aimi" he pointed to the little girl who, as soon as she heard her name called, turned towards him "My daughter. And sweetie, this is y/n, uncle Jay's sister."
"Fuck" you whispered so quietly, not out of indignation, but because there was a child and you couldn't swear at her.
So your only reaction – apart from widening your eyes – was to gulp down all the wine and feel it burn your throat as you ran to the kitchen.
Your luck was that Aimi only nodded for a few seconds before turning her attention back to the drawing she was watching with Jay, so your state of panic hadn't had much effect on her. Unlike Heeseung, who walked in quick, hurried steps to the kitchen to chase after you.
The search for the wine was tireless. That bottle had run out a while ago and all you had to do was find another that your mother kept right there, but no. Those hands stopped you from opening it. Those hands stopped you from opening the mini cellar under the counter and made you turn to him.
"Wine won't help you much" Heeseung whispered to you.
"I just need to… I…"
"You need to sober up because I think we need to talk, don't you?"
Why did he have to whisper everything? And why did Heeseung have a relentless habit of leaning towards you every time he stood in front of you to say something?
"It's okay" was the only thing you managed to say because the next second his lips were on yours. Briefly, a kiss so quick that you couldn't even process the softness of Heeseung's mouth against yours.
"Great choice of wine, by the way" he licked his lips before leaving the kitchen, just as quickly as he came in after you.
Tumblr media
Heeseung was right, you two needed to talk. You were just putting it off all day because you felt like a complete idiot, thinking all sorts of bad things about him and your friends when, in fact, Aimi was just a child. And Heeseung's daughter.
All right, he also felt stupid for never mentioning it since the first time you and he started to get even closer, but the real thing was that he was afraid. He didn't want it to always be the same.
You swore that every moment at your parents' house would lead to a conversation with Heeseung because he never took his eyes off you, only to look in on Aimi or help her with something when no adult was doing so. He was such a helpful father and that only made your heart swell even more for that man.
Your mind just didn't process the fact that little Aimi would be clinging to you the moment everyone sat down to lunch.
"Sweetie, let y/n eat…"
"Dad" she pouted as she sat on your lap, smoothing her long hair so that it didn't fall on the plate in front of her.
"It's okay, I think I can help you, can't I, Aimi?"
"Yes" she turned her head to look at you, and that smile like her father's made you smile too.
Aimi was polite, only asked for your help to cut things she had difficulty with, and ate her vegetables without complaining while Heeseung just watched until she finished eating so she could get off your lap. So you could eat right then.
You noticed that Aimi sulked throughout lunch while the others ate until they finished their meal and she held out her arms to you.
"I thought we were going to watch a cartoon" Jay pouted when he saw that Aimi hadn't gone to sit on his lap.
"Actually, uncle Jay thought he'd get away with doing the dishes" you pretended to whisper to Aimi, hearing her giggle immediately afterward "But I think she'd rather stay with auntie y/n now, wouldn't you?"
When she nodded, it was enough for Jay to make a scene in which Aimi laughed even more.
Spending the afternoon with that child was the most incredible thing that could have happened to you over the last few days.
Watching cartoons with Aimi, hearing about colors and how she could count to forty. Or how she knew about animals because uncle Jay had given her a book that made sounds with a magic pen. And he bragged about the compliments in the present.
You felt your heart warm even more when everyone decided to spend time in the back garden, your lap serving as comfort for Aimi who played with the end of your hair until Heeseung signaled that she had fallen asleep on your lap. You didn't mind. She didn't weigh anything, she was cuddling you so comfortably and her little body was sleeping so nonchalantly that you just held her there and paid attention to Heejin's words, who was telling you about something at work.
Your eyes caught Heeseung's from time to time, and he couldn't help smiling as he looked at you and then at Aimi. Your daughter had liked you and that made Heeseung feel better, maybe the fear had passed and he could talk to you.
"Hey, y/n" Heeseung whispered close to your ear. You did everything you could not to move abruptly and not wake Aimi on your lap, so you just looked at him, noticing that his attention was everywhere but on what was happening in front of him.
Now it was your father who was talking about something you and your brother had done during a family vacation. Heejin laughed, asking something and you simply decided to pay attention to the man next to you.
"I can take her inside, I think I'll put her on the sofa because it's getting cold and your arms will go numb afterward" he kept whispering, making you laugh.
"I'll help you" you also whispered, settling Aimi in your arms and getting up with her still on your lap.
This was quite common, considering that Jay was always the one to take Aimi when Heeseung went to family lunches. But now you were there, placing Aimi on the three-seater sofa, wrapping her in cushions, and taking the blanket from Heeseung's hands to cover her carefully.
"She's beautiful" your voice came out so low, the compliment was so natural that you only noticed when Heeseung leaned his shoulder against yours and let out a low laugh.
"I think I did a good job" you laughed along with him, looking away from the little girl to the boy next to you "Do you have some time for me now?"
"Of course."
It couldn't be put off any longer, you knew he wanted to talk too so maybe it was time since everyone was talking outside and Aimi had gone to sleep. It was just you and Heeseung on the other side of the room so as not to wake the little one.
Being on the smaller sofa had never been a problem, but the proximity to him was what was making you apprehensive. Their legs touching each other, Heeseung's hands searching for something to hold, opting to leave it on his knees as he looked across the room. He looked at his daughter.
"It happened in the famous cliché of the first one-night stand in university" he moistened his lips and laughed humorlessly, then looked at you and bit his lower lip "Aimi's mother didn't want to keep her."
"What?" your eyes widened at that. You noticed that he sighed, perhaps he was about to tell you something difficult, so your instinct was to take one of his hands in yours, intertwining your fingers and showing that you were right there. Next to him, listening very carefully.
He sighed, taking a little more courage.
Heeseung and Jay had met and it wasn't by chance, they had been assigned roommates in university as soon as Heeseung had been admitted to his course. He and the boys have been inseparable ever since.
Like any university party, which you knew your brother was part of, Heeseung also liked to have fun like any other adult who had just been admitted and wanted to enjoy his youth. But irresponsibility got to him.
Unprotected and fruitless sex only happened in the movies his sister watched, because it wasn't like that with him. Months later, the news that the girl was pregnant devastated him and he wasn't sure what to do, but he thought that they could take care of the baby and that he would be there to help her.
That's not what happened. Heeseung lived on threats all that time.
I don't want to keep this baby unless you stay with me.
It was cruel, she was cruel to Heeseung. But what could he do? That woman was carrying his baby and he could only try to do everything to please her until the child was born. Aimi was beautiful from the first minutes of her life and was the joy of the Lee family.
"I think we should break up" that sentence made Heeseung sigh with relief, he knew it wouldn't last in a relationship that he had sustained only for the sake of the child.
Agreeing was the only right thing to do. But he also didn't know that she would give up any contact with the little girl, literally taking away any responsibility, walking out and never getting involved in the little girl's life since birth.
"The guardianship is completely yours, and she will never go near my niece again" Heejin had done everything since the second she found out she was going to be an aunt, and she had done everything could to make sure that woman would never go near Aimi.
Almost three years passed and he thought it would be difficult, but no. Heeseung was a father – solo – but he had such an immense support network, like his friends, his family, and Jay's family. Aimi didn't miss a mother figure in the slightest because she was surrounded by the love he always knew she never lacked.
Heeseung's fear revolved around any relationship that wouldn't accept his daughter, or that the child's mother would somehow resurface trying to give up something she never had a right to just because he was moving on with his life.
"I don't think you need to worry about that" you said in a low tone, letting him breathe a little after telling most – or almost all – of the story, "Heejin made it very clear and you know how much weight her words carry."
Heeseung laughed.
He clasped his hands even tighter in yours, tilting his head to rest his forehead against yours too.
"Believe me, over the years I've tried to get into relationships and one of them said that I spent more time with Aimi than with her."
"What—" you moved away for a few seconds, just long enough to face Heeseung, and then returned to your starting position, leaning your forehead against his "I think the danger now is that I'll be spending more time with her than with you."
"Will I be double-changed?" false indignation in his voice and Heeseung's hands loosened from his for a brief moment. You would have protested at the loss of contact if it hadn't been for his fingers slowly trailing up your cheek "If that's the case, I'll take it just fine."
"Then start thinking about it, Lee Heeseung."
"I'm thinking, Park Y/n" and then his lips met yours halfway.
A slow kiss and the perfect movement of each other's lips in such calm synchronicity. It was as if they both needed it as their tongues moved slowly, tasting the drink from hours ago and how Heeseung's warm muscle curled into yours. Your hands met his on his face, deepening the kiss even more and letting out a sigh when he slid down the sofa to be even closer to you.
That kiss was on another level, you felt like you were in paradise while Heeseung's lips were still on yours.
He slid his mouth along your jaw and down to your neck, small kisses left on your skin making you shiver completely until they were interrupted by a whimper.
You and Heeseung separated very slowly, both of you looking at the other sofa and noticing that Aimi was starting to cry quietly as she stood up, scratching at her eyes and with her hair completely messed up.
Heeseung got up from the sofa where the two of you were, walked over to his daughter, and bent down in front of her.
"Hi my love, did you have a bad dream?" he asked her, the little girl's eyes going to her father and they were completely watery. She held out her arms for him to take her, and so Heeseung did. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked back, with no reply. Aimi still had a pout on her lips and her eyes were almost streaming with the tears she was holding back.
That was enough for you to pout at the scene in front of you, holding back a scream as Aimi looked at you and her eyes lit up.
Her little arms went out towards you so excitedly that she almost threw herself off Heeseung's lap. You quickly got up from the sofa and picked her up, kissing her on the top of the head before making her lie on your shoulder.
"Sweetie?" Heeseung called out after she had snuggled into your lap.
"I want y/n" she said sleepily, yawning as she lay on your shoulder and practically falling back asleep within seconds.
You and Heeseung looked at each other, holding back a laugh as the little one went back to dreamland after being snuggled in your arms. He approached the two of you, kissing Aimi's cheek and then kissing your forehead before placing his own against it. Faces close together.
"I think I'm getting your daughter for myself" you hummed, kissing his lips in the process.
Heeseung laughed, nodding in denial as you moved away to go to the larger sofa in the living room.
He wanted to deny it and play with you, but seeing Aimi on your lap and that scene in front of him, all the fear Heeseung had was gone for sure.
Tumblr media
© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.
1K notes · View notes
earlysunshines · 9 days
Text
fall is for falling (for you)
newjeans (unnie line) x fem!reader ; fluff!!!!!
synopsis: separate autumn themed oneshots with newjeans unnie line bc i saw a pile of leaves the other day ; 2k special!!
warnings: puuuurre fluff ; making out kinda ; nothing else that i can think of ; anything i didn't mention ; sorry to the readers that don’t have fall / experience a diff season atm it’s basically autumn for me :-P or maybe i’m getting ahead of myself it’s still like 20+ degrees
a/n: THANKYOU FOR 2K WHATTTTTT THE HELL!!! idk how to structure this and it's different from the usual looong fics LOL idk smth different for this crazy milestone THANK YOU!!! i can't believe this is real... i can’t express my gratitude enough… two gazilliontrillionbillion subscribers... in just over a year... i can't believe this... THANK YOU! enjoy :-D
ALSO new user whatsUP! :-p
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
kim minji - pumpkin carving
minji hears the door creak open but doesn't bother to look up; she already knows it's you. she braces herself, expecting you to burst in dramatically like always: groaning loudly, tossing your bag onto the rug, and collapsing onto the couch next to her with a tired sigh. but instead of the usual commotion, she notices the absence of a familiar thump on the couch, no tired exhale signaling your arrival. 
she peeks up, only to find you grinning with a large pumpkin cradled in your arms, your eyes bright with excitement. 
“what’s this?” minji asks, eyebrows furrowing as she pulls off her headphones, glancing away from her laptop.
“it’s a sweet potato, what do you think?” you tease, your tone playful as you reach over and close her laptop without hesitation, sliding it to the side. “c’mon, it’s friday. pleeease help me carve it?”
she pauses, eyes narrowing slightly as she meets your gaze. you tug gently on her wrist, the warmth of your hand lingering on her skin, and she can feel the heat rising to her cheeks. her resolve wavers, and she sighs, tongue pressing against the inside of her cheek. 
“fine.”
minji doesn't regret agreeing, not when your face lights up like that. the way you smile makes her chest feel warm, a flutter she wishes she could escape.
you both set up at the kitchen counter, and she watches as you rummage around, grabbing all three knives you both own. 
(there used to be just one—a medium-sized knife—but you insisted on buying more. what if there were small things to cut? or bigger things? the two of you have argued over countless trivial things you own, but somehow, she always ends up letting you have your way. maybe it’s because she secretly adores you, not as subtly as she thinks.)
you put on a playlist that jumps all over the place; first, it’s sza, and you hum along, lost in the melody. then a city pop track comes on, the abrupt change making minji raise her brows. your taste in music is unpredictable, like a rollercoaster, every song a surprise. but minji never complains. she loves how you sway to the music, singing softly as you sketch a face on the pumpkin with intense concentration. 
and for a moment, she forgets about the essay she has to write, the deadline, the weekend. all she sees is you, the soft light catching the curve of your smile, and it's enough.
an hour passes, but it feels like only seconds.
you and minji have been carving away, scooping out the pumpkin’s insides as she grins at the way you squirm with every handful. when she slips out a soft “cute,” your face heats up instantly, but neither of you says anything more. you assume she’s talking about the face you’ve drawn on the pumpkin, but all of you hopes it’s you she’s referring to.
you sneak glances at her from time to time, drawn to the way her hair falls loose from its tie, her glasses slipping down her nose, and her tongue peeking out in concentration. you reach over to push her glasses back up, and her hand slips—almost cutting herself. you laugh, but your heart is racing inside your chest.
the kitchen table is a mess. pumpkin guts and seeds are scattered everywhere, a few strands of orange pulp hanging off the edge. you’re both standing side by side, spoons in hand, breathless from laughter.
“this is the worst pumpkin carving attempt i’ve ever seen,” minji declares, wiping her forehead with the back of her wrist, unknowingly smearing pumpkin across her skin.
“you mean the best,” you counter with a grin, scooping out another stringy handful. “it’s a masterpiece in the making.”
she rolls her eyes, but you catch the smile she tries to hide. “if by ‘masterpiece,’ you mean ‘disaster,’ then yeah, sure.”
you nudge her shoulder, still laughing. “hey, it’s not that bad! we just need to… appreciate its unique aspects.”
minji laughs like a dork, you love it—bright and loud—making your chest warm. “fine, but if this pumpkin ends up looking like a troll, i’m blaming you.”
“i’ll take full responsibility,” you joke. “besides, it’s already got your eyebrows.”
she gasps in mock offense. “excuse me? my eyebrows are perfect, thank you very much.”
you snicker and turn back to the pumpkin, but your eyes keep drifting to her. she’s leaning in close, focus intent, tongue poking out slightly as she carves a crooked smile.
it’s hard to concentrate with her so close. something about this feels different—more intimate, more charged.
(and it doesn’t help that you’ve found her attractive ever since you barged into the apartment while she was moving boxes, almost knocking over her stuff.
it also doesn’t help that your crush on her has only grown. english nerds were always a little dorky and cute to you.
or maybe it’s just minji. minji, who you used to bicker with about her loud music or her sudden screams in the middle of the night over some game.
it definitely doesn’t help that you like minji a lot.)
she catches you looking at her, and for a moment, the room goes still. her eyes soften, and your cheeks heat up again. she quirks an eyebrow. “what are you staring at?”
you shrug with a grin. “nothing, sorry. you just look stupid, that’s all.”
she rolls her eyes, but the blush on her cheeks deepens, and your heart skips a beat.
minji finishes the smile on the pumpkin and steps back, hands on her hips, looking at it with a satisfied grin. “done! would you look at that…”
the pumpkin is… well, it has a crooked smile, one eye bigger than the other, and a nose that could pass for a potato. it’s perfect.
“it’s amazing,” you say, and you mean it. not because of the pumpkin, but because of how proud she looks, her eyes bright, cheeks flushed from laughing.
she turns to you, and for a moment, you’re just smiling at each other. then, almost without thinking, you reach up and brush a stray pumpkin seed from her hair.
she blinks, startled, her breath catching. “uh… thanks,” she mumbles, her cheeks darkening to a deeper pink.
“of course,” you say softly, your hand lingering in her hair a moment too long.
the air thickens, something unsaid hanging between you. you’re about to speak, but then minji’s hand is on your jawline, and her lips are on yours.
it’s short, barely a few seconds, but in the last half-second, you start to process it and try to kiss back. but before you can properly reciprocate, minji pulls away, her hand flying back like you’re something hot to the touch.
“i’m so sorry,” she stammers, looking mortified. “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry. it’s just you looked really good, and i couldn’t help myself, and i’m so sorry, i should’ve—”
you lean in again, cutting her off, capturing the rest of her mumbled apology with your lips. she relaxes into the kiss, her head angling slightly to make it more comfortable, her hand resting on your waist. she pushes you gently against the counter, her body close to yours.
when the need for air becomes too strong, you both pull away, breathless. you look at her—her eyes still half-lidded, cheeks flushed deep red, and you can’t help but giggle, hiding your face in your shoulder to mask how flustered you are.
you just kissed your roommate, and she kissed you back, pulled you closer by the waist, tasted like orange flavored lip balm, smelled like lavender and something floral.
“holy shit,” you mumble, half-laughing. “we just kissed.”
“y-yeah.” minji’s voice is small, almost disbelieving. “did you like it?”
“minji, you’re so cute.” you pull back to look at her, smiling as you smooth her hair. her glasses slide down again, so you take them off and set them on the counter beside you. you twirl a strand of her hair around your finger, teasing her, and she looks like she might melt on the spot.
her hand slides to the back of your neck, making you shiver, and she leans back just enough to murmur, “i’m assuming you did.”
“good observation,” you say, rolling your eyes.
she laughs, her fingers pressing slightly into your skin, and your knees feel a little weak. “so, do we keep carving pumpkins or…?”
you grin, pulling her closer. “we could… make out a little more on the couch instead? if our lips go numb, then… movie?”
minji’s smile is bright, her eyes soft. “i like that idea.”
Tumblr media
hanni pham - a hoodie for the seasons changing
hanni walks along the inside of the sidewalk because you decided when you were eleven that it was better for her to be farther from the street, less at risk. even now, a few weeks into your last year of high school, you still keep her on the safe side. it's just one of those things you do without thinking. it’s an unspoken rule between the two of you, so hanni hadn’t thought twice about the way you pulled her by the arm to push her on her designated side.
(she did think twice about how firm your grip was, and how you had your hand on her. your bigger, stronger, nicer hands.)
with the weekend ahead, you both agree there’s no better plan than crashing at your place after school on a friday. your hands brush against each other as you walk, but neither of you say anything. you never do; never have, not about the little things, like the shared smiles, the secret glances, the quiet laughter. instead, you let yourselves enjoy the moments, bask in the warmth that fills your chest each time.
you make it to your house, then up the stairs until you two are in your room. you immediately find hanni's sweatpants in your closet — the ones she left behind last time because she’s at your house more than half the week. you'd washed them with your clothes on laundry day, because it would’ve been rude not to. you toss them to her along with one of your t-shirts. “go change,” you say, nudging her toward the bathroom with a grin.
"hey!" hanni groans, swatting your hand away as you poke her side, making her jump. “you’re so—”
“just hurry up and change so we can relax on my bed. you know how i feel about outside clothes…”
she rolls her eyes but can't help the smile that tugs at her lips, watching the little crease form between your brows from the annoyance. it’s cute, she thinks, even if she’d never admit it. she closes the bathroom door, locks it, and starts changing. her sweatpants fit the same — they’re hers, after all — but your t-shirt hangs loose and oversized on her. it’s soft against her skin, and smells like your detergent and jasmine and peaches, like you. her heart races a little. 
she catches her reflection in the mirror and notices how the shirt falls around a fingers length past her waistline. it’s not like she’s drowning in the shirt, but it’s definitely a size or two larger; you’re taller and more muscular, which happens to be her type — a fact she’s noticed a little too much for her liking. she feels a flutter in her chest, a mix of nerves and something she doesn’t want to name, then quickly shakes it off, rolling her shoulders like she can physically push the feeling away.
she takes a breath, tugs at the hem of the shirt once more, and steps out of the bathroom, trying not to think about how much she likes wearing something that belongs to you.
when she steps out a few minutes later, she finds you on your bed with your legs spread out and hands up to hold your phone. you’re in plaid pajama joggers and your dad’s old university hoodie, you look comfy and snug, you look adorable.
she jumps on your bed, landing beside you with a bounce. the mattress shifts, and your phone slips from your grip, smacking you square in the cheek. hanni laughs at the sight.
“hey!” you groan, shooting her a playful glare.
“loser.” she mutters, reaching over to mess up your hair. “scoot over, you’re hogging the whole bed.”
“whatever.” you roll over, patting the space beside you. hanni shuffles closer, pulling the blanket over both of you. your arm naturally slips under her neck, and she nestles in, the top of her head resting against your chest.
“comfy?” she can hear the smirk in your voice.
“yeah.” she replies softly, though her heart races. 
neither of you ever comments on the way you always end up like this, close and tangled up in each other. the term is ‘cuddling,’ but if either of you were to call it that, you’d probably cringe, cheeks flushing with an embarrassed heat neither of you could ignore.
hanni grabs her phone, opening instagram. she scrolls, her breathing evening out as she likes every animal video and taps through every story. you watch her through half-closed eyes, feeling a calm settle over you. your other arm drapes over her waist, your breathing slowing, growing heavier. 
she doesn’t notice at first, too engrossed in her phone. but when she switches to the camera, she catches a glimpse of your nose nuzzled in her hair, your eyes fully closed. she zooms in to confirm the soft snores she hears, then grins, quietly snapping a picture. she shifts, turning the camera on herself to capture both of you together.
for a while, she stays like that, tucked in your arms, watching an episode of a crime show she’s gotten hooked on. her head tilts at an odd angle, but she doesn’t mind. you’re asleep and warm beside her, and that’s all that matters.
three episodes later, she checks the time and realizes over an hour and a half has passed. somewhere in that time, you’ve pulled her closer in your sleep, murmuring something she can’t quite make out. her heart stutters each time your hand shifts against her waist, your fingers brushing against the fabric, the only layer away from her skin.
her stomach growls softly, breaking the quiet, and she decides it’s time to wake you up. turning over, your faces are inches apart, and she stops, taking a moment to just look at you. then, she leans back slightly and snaps another picture before reaching to poke your cheek. when you don’t stir, she pinches instead, shaking your shoulder lightly.
you groan, turning away from her. “five minutes… please.”
“c’mon, sleeping beauty, i’m hungry…” she sighs, her tone teasing.
“five minutes.” you mumble, voice thick with sleep. “just five more…”
hanni sighs dramatically, then tries a new tactic. “i’ll pay if you get up right now. anything you want from the convenience store.”
you crack one eye open, barely, squinting at her. you roll over, sprawling into a starfish position. “fine… but five minutes, okay?” you plead, clinging to her leg.
hanni laughs softly at the warmth radiating from you, her resolve weakening. she runs her fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp gently until five minutes turns into ten, then fifteen. finally, she nudges you awake, and the two of you head out, still in your cozy clothes.
as you walk to the convenience store, staying close, hanni steps on a leaf that crunches underfoot. “wow, it’s already fall,” she murmurs.
“well, obviously.” you tease, only to get a kick to the back of your knee. you nearly stumble, catching yourself with a laugh. “what the hell?”
“you suck.” she grumbles, bumping her shoulder against yours.
“you suck more,” you retort, nudging her back.
“whatever.”
you smile at her, and she catches it from the corner of her eye. she nudges you away again, but you keep staring, unable to help yourself. “you’ve gotten really pretty, you know?”
“are you saying i used to be ugly?” she laughs lightheartedly, expecting a playful response, but instead, you surprise her.
“you’ve never been ugly.” your voice is softer, more sincere. “you’ve always been pretty.” then your voice gets quieter, “gorgeous.”
there’s a pause, both of you walking in silence for a moment. you kick a small rock forward, and it lands by hanni’s feet. she kicks it ahead, breaking the quiet. “thanks.” she says, feeling your eyes on her but not daring to meet your gaze. “you’ve always been cute too, ever since we met in fifth grade.”
“oh.” you whisper, looking up just in time to see the store ahead — a small savior from the tension that’s thickened the air between you. you clear your throat, trying to shift the mood. “i can’t wait for my free dinner.”
hanni pushes you playfully, and you pout, making her wish she could capture the expression and keep it forever.
you two head inside, and hanni visibly relaxes as the warm air greets you. she hadn’t mentioned how chilly it was outside, even though she could’ve easily put on her jacket. part of her had hoped, maybe, you’d notice and offer her your hoodie instead.
both of you wander around the store for about ten minutes, emerging with a pork bun and a sweet tea in your hands, while hanni clutches a sweet pastry and a can of soda. instead of turning back towards your house, you keep moving forward, hanni trailing just behind you. 
the route is familiar. it’s the path down to the little stream where you and hanni have shared countless secrets, talking until the sun dips below the horizon. tonight feels like one of those nights, perfect for sitting on the favorite bench you two have claimed as your own, watching the sunset as it starts a little earlier than usual.
you kick a small rock into the stream, watching the ripples spread out, and catch hanni shivering slightly in the corner of your eye as she takes a small bite of the sweet potato-filled bun. 
“can you hold my stuff?” you ask, extending your hands. hanni hums in confusion but takes your things without hesitation.
she watches as you stand up, pulling off your hoodie. her eyes linger on the way your long-sleeve shirt lifts slightly, revealing a hint of your torso, the lean muscle just barely visible in the fading light. she catches herself staring and quickly looks away, cheeks warming. you fix your hair casually before draping the hoodie over her lap.
she furrows her brows, looking up at you. “what?”
you glance down at the hoodie, then back at her. “put it on.”
“why?”
“because you’re cold.” you shrug, sitting back down beside her and taking the food and drinks out of her hands to set them down. you grab the hoodie again and pull it over her shoulders, tugging it down until her head pops through and the hood falls over her eyes. “better?”
she mumbles, “you didn’t have to.”
“it’s getting colder. i’m fine like this.” you reply, pinching the fabric of your shirt before reaching out to adjust the hood over her forehead, smoothing down her hair. a small smirk tugs at your lips as you add quietly, “besides, i know you wanted my hoodie anyway.”
she nearly chokes on air, her cheeks burning. “i– i didn’t! you’re so–”
“you look better in it anyway,” you chuckle, turning back to face the stream. you sneak a bite of her pastry, the playful smile on your lips growing.
hanni huffs but doesn't protest, her fingers curling into the sleeves of your hoodie, a smile sneaking onto her face despite herself.
she looks at you fondly, biting the inside of her cheek, before crossing her arms and turning her gaze to match yours. your hoodie is thick with your scent, and hanni feels like she could drown in it. without realizing it, she scoots closer, and you instinctively wrap an arm around her.
hanni can’t hold back anymore.
“y/n.”
“yes?”
“the fall dance is really early this year.”
“yeah, it’s next week. i feel like i’ll breathe and it’ll already time to get ready for it.”
“do you have a date?”
you scoff, shaking your head with a small laugh. “you know i’ve never managed to get a date for that. we always end up going with yunjin’s group anyway. are you teasing me for not having one?”
hanni chuckles, leaning even closer against your side. “maybe a little.”
“do you have a date?” you ask, glancing down at her.
“no.”
“you know, i overheard jay’s friends talking. sounds like he might ask you out.”
hanni cringes at the thought of jay, the guy from her statistics class who never stops staring at her. his crush on her is painfully obvious, and he always finds an excuse to talk to her or get her attention.
but the truth is, hanni's always wished you’d be the one to ask her to the fall dance, but you’re oblivious, always a little clueless.
“y/n,” she tries again, voice soft.
“yes?” 
“we should go to the fall dance together.”
“yeah, i was thinking that too. should we go with yunjin’s friend group again? jimin also asked if we wanted to–”
“no,” hanni interrupts, pulling away from your arm, and looks at you seriously. you tilt your head, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. she meets your gaze, but quickly looks away, suddenly feeling too exposed. “i was wondering if… well— ugh.” she pinches the bridge of her nose, then takes a deep breath and blurts out, “we should go together, alone, just us. we don't have to actually go to the dance, I know we just went out in the city last time and crashed at yunjins place and we can just do whatever you want to! i don't really care i just want to be with you becauseilikeyoualotand--"
hanni pauses before finally getting to her point. "i want you to be my date, y/n."
your lips curl into a sly smile, and then you laugh.
hanni's face is a mix of confusion and anxiety, her mind racing with uncertainty at your reaction. 
“took you long enough,” you say, grinning wider now. “i was going to ask you out, but i wanted to see if you had the guts to do it first.”
“asshole!” hanni groans, shoving you away. she turns her face to hide the deep flush coloring her cheeks. “i take it back.”
“no, you don’t.” your arm tightens around her, pulling her closer again, and you use your free hand to gently tilt her face towards you, fingers brushing her chin. “i’m not going to let you.”
her breath catches when your eyes flicker down to her lips, then back up to her eyes.
“w-was that a yes?” hanni asks, voice small, almost uncertain.
your fingers drop from her chin, and you lean back slightly against the bench. both of you are moving closer, almost unconsciously, drawn together by the tension. she feels her eyelids flutter, and you tilt your head, leaning in just a bit more.
“if i kiss you, would you take that as a yes?” you whisper, eyes focused on her lips.
hanni’s voice is barely audible as she murmurs, “mhm,” giving you the green light. you lean in and press a soft, quick kiss to her lips. she melts into it, feeling every nerve ending come alive in those few seconds. you pull back just enough to take in her flushed cheeks, the warmth of the autumn sun casting a soft glow over her face.
“i’d love to be your date, hanni,” you say softly, smiling as her face breaks into a relieved grin.
Tumblr media
danielle marsh - apple picking
danielle stands beside you, her eyes bright with excitement as she takes in the familiar sight. she's wearing a pair of denim overalls over an old, oversized sweater that you know belongs to her dad, her wavy brown hair clipped up to keep loose strands from framing her face.
the apple orchard stretches out before you, rows of trees dotted with red and green apples glistening under the golden afternoon sun. you and danielle have been coming here every fall since you were kids, but this is the first time you've managed to make it back since starting college. the sunlight feels warm against your skin, but it definitely makes her shine brighter, even in the cool crispness of fall.
she grabs your hand, slipping her fingers into yours without a second thought, and pulls you down the path toward the orchard's entrance. you grin at how eager she is; being here together again fills you with a deep, comforting warmth. being around danielle always does that to you, really. 
a friendly man greets you at the entrance, handing you a basket and asking if you have any questions. you both shake your heads, and he gives you a cheerful smile, wishing you good luck.
it’s peak apple-picking season, so naturally the orchard is filled with families, couples, and groups of friends, all scouring the trees for the best apples. there’s a little worry in the back of your mind that the good ones might already be gone.
“so many people,” danielle breathes, a little awestruck. “i wonder if we’re too late.”
“we’ll be fine,” you assure her, squeezing her hand lightly. “when have we ever gotten a bad apple? even the green ones end up sweet.”
“maybe that's because you always pick them~” she teases, giving you that playful smile that always makes your stomach twist and turn. you hate it a little, but you love it more—especially the way it makes your cheeks heat up.
“you're so— ugh.” you look away, trying to hide the way she flusters you, but you tug her hand, pulling her along.
you wander a bit farther down the path, away from the crowd. danielle’s eyes light up when she spots a tree heavy with apples. she lets go of your hand, darting forward, studying the branches.
“this one’s perfect,” she says, reaching up on tiptoe, fingers just brushing a particularly shiny apple.
you watch her struggle for a moment, biting back a laugh. “need some help?”
she glances back, trying to look serious but failing. instead, she gives you her signature pout, the one that makes you melt everytime you see it. “i guess i could use a little help,” she admits.
you move closer, setting the basket down. “hop on,” you offer, patting your back.
she giggles before jumping onto your back, her laughter bright in your ear as you steady her by holding her legs. she reaches up, plucking the apple from the branch with a satisfied hum. "got it!"
“nice catch,” you say, lowering her back to the ground.
she turns to you, cheeks flushed from the thrill of the simple task, still holding the apple. “i’ve got my own personal apple-picking assistant,” she teases, nudging you.
“not free of charge,” you joke, smiling at her. 
her happiness is contagious, and you're more than willing to let it take over the afternoon. 
(and really, your whole life—but maybe you’re getting ahead of yourself.)
“but always happy to help, miss marsh.”
you and danielle spend the next couple of hours wandering through the orchard, picking apples, laughing, and reminiscing about the times you’d done this as kids. you remember danielle’s dad lifting you up on his shoulders when you were too small to reach, and the time she accidentally knocked one of your teeth out with a misplaced apple throw. her laughter fills the space between you, and more than once, she climbs onto your back again, her hands on your shoulders, her face so close you can feel her breath on your neck. it’s nerve-racking, but much more heart warming.
as the sun starts to dip, the air cools, and you catch danielle stifling a yawn. “getting sleepy?” you ask, watching her rub her eyes the same way she used to when you were younger.
"maybe a little," she admits, yawning again, trying to blink away the sleepiness settling in her eyes. "but i don't want to leave yet. this is too much fun."
 really, she doesn’t want the day to end at all. spending time with you like this feels like the good old days, back when things were simple and easy, and danielle would do just about anything to stretch it out a little longer. she's always been whipped for anything involving you, for every shared laugh, for every time your shoulder accidentally brushes hers. she knows she would spend every minute she has left doing nothing but this, being with you, if she could. it's been harder lately—with college and schedules pulling you both in different directions, with classes, work, and life taking up so much of the time she used to have with you. the thought makes her chest ache a little, makes her cling to this moment even more tightly, like she could hold on to it forever. 
“it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” she adds softly, her voice barely above a whisper, almost like she’s talking to herself more than you. “since we just got to be like this.”
“yeah,” you agree, a touch of something bittersweet in your smile. “way too long.”
her fingers brush yours, almost like she’s afraid you’ll slip away if she doesn't hold on, her hand still warm from holding yours all afternoon. “i wish we could do this every day,” she sighs, her tone playful and smile warm, but it makes her heart ache a bit.
you feel your heart squeeze at that, at the honesty in her voice, and you reach out, squeezing her hand in return. “me too,”
for a moment, you both stand there, just holding hands, feeling the weight of all the missed moments and the sweetness of the one you’re in now. the orchard is quieter now, the sun sinking lower, casting everything in a soft, golden light. you think it makes her look even more beautiful, like she belongs in a place like this, caught between the sunset and the apples and the way her smile seems to light up her whole face.
“anyway,” you clear your throat, breaking yourself from your trance. “we’ve been here for hours, dani,” you chuckle. “it’s okay if you’re tired.”
“okay, maybe i am tired,” she says, shoulders slumping. “fine, let's head back.”
“it’s an hour drive anyway, maybe longer with traffic,” you point out, pinching her cheek just because. “you can sleep in the car.”
after paying for your apples and accepting a free mini apple pie from the cashier, you head back to the car. you hold her hand with one hand and carry the bag of apples with the other, feeling content as you walk through the fading light.
at the car, danielle settles into the passenger seat, her eyes fluttering shut as soon as you start driving. you glance over at her, peaceful and serene in sleep, her lips slightly parted. she looks so pretty under the soft glow of the streetlights that you can’t resist taking a quick picture when you reach the nearest stop sign.
you drive quietly, letting the soft sounds of her breathing fill the car. when you arrive at her house, you unbuckle her seatbelt carefully, brushing your fingers over her skin in the process. she murmurs something in her sleep, but doesn’t wake. you gently lift her out of the car, cradling her against your chest. she instinctively wraps her arms around your neck, holding on like she doesn’t want to let go.
getting inside is a bit of a challenge; you end up going through the gate to the backyard. once you’re inside, you lay her down gently on the couch, intending to pull away, but she tightens her grip around you. “no, y/n… stay,” she mumbles.
your arm moves around her, instinctively pulling her closer, and you can feel the gentle rise and fall of her breathing against you, her body fitting perfectly into the curve of yours. she smells like apples and cinnamon and the orchard and what it feels like to be a child and filled with adoration. it fills your senses, making you feel like you’re wrapped up in everything that feels good and familiar.
your fingers continue to gently massage her scalp, and before long, your eyes grow heavy, and you drift off with her beside you, feeling completely at peace.
you aren’t sure how long you’d been asleep when the creak of the front door makes you stir. your eyes flutter open to a blurry room, the dim light barely catching on the edges of furniture. you blink, trying to sit up, but danielle’s weight is still against you, her face tucked into the curve of your neck, her breaths soft and steady. 
a quiet voice breaks the sleepy haze. “well, look at that.”
you blink harder, clearing your vision to see danielle’s parents standing in the doorway, looking amused. their expressions are soft, eyes twinkling with the kind of knowing that makes your cheeks flush. you shift slightly, attempting to move, but danielle’s hold tightens, her face burrowing deeper into your neck, refusing to let go even in her sleep.
“hi,” you manage, voice thick with sleep, feeling the warmth creep up your face. “we were just… she fell asleep in the car, and i didn’t want to wake her.”
danielle’s mom smiles gently, eyes creasing at the corners. “you two look comfortable. did you have fun at the orchard?”
“yeah…” you murmur, still a little groggy, the day’s warmth lingering in your chest.
danielle’s dad chuckles, his gaze softening. “she’s hanging on like a little bear,” he says with a grin. “reminds me of when you two were kids, falling asleep in the backseat. she’d twist herself into the strangest positions, and you always seemed to make room for her.”
of course you did, you always made room for her, whether that was in the backseat of her parents’ car, your mind, or your heart.
you feel your cheeks get hotter, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. you glance down at danielle, her face still nestled into you, and it strikes you how natural it feels, like this was always how it was supposed to be.
as her parents quietly make their way upstairs, you lean back into the cushions, fingers absentmindedly brushing through danielle’s hair, the strands soft against your skin.
“y/n?” her voice is a soft mumble, barely more than a whisper. “are my parents home?”
“yeah,” you say softly, feeling her shift slightly.
“mhm... can we stay like this?” her voice is slurred, on the edge of falling back into sleep.
“whatever you want, dani.”
“okay,” she breathes, then after a pause, “hey, y/n?”
“yeah?”
“thanks for today,” she sighs, her words sleepy and warm against your neck. “i love you.”
the words make your heart swell, and maybe it’s the sleepiness or the quiet of the room, but you find the courage to press a soft kiss to her forehead, even if it means twisting awkwardly. you close your eyes, letting yourself relax into the moment, thinking that maybe, just maybe, this is exactly where you’re meant to be.
“i love you too danielle.”
391 notes · View notes
httpscomexe · 1 month
Note
Normally bubbly reader overhears/gets told something Logan says and it ruins her
Don't Want Happiness
Logan x Reader
1103 words. A bunch of comfort. Reader hides real emotions. Caring Logan. That's it, just comfort.
You’re a ray of fucking sunshine.
Everyone loves you, and everyone loves that you love everyone.
Except Logan.
He fucking hates it. He hates the way you skip around the halls, the way you hum as you make dinner, the way your eyes fucking light up to the stupidest shit. And the thing that he hated most. That made his blood fucking boil… Was the big ass smile that falls onto your lips every damned time you passed him in the hallways. He doesn’t smile back of course, he only continues on his way and rolls his eyes as he passes you.
“I mean how can she be so fucking happy all the damned time? Then she gives me this dumbass smile every time she fucking sees me.” You stopped around the corner of the living room, hiding behind the wall to hear what they were saying. “I mean Y/N fucking smiled last week after she hurt herself, she was covered in blood and acted like it was nothing but she ended up with third degree fucking burns.” You rub your arm a little, embarrassment creeping up your cheek and you clench the little bag of cookies that you had gotten for movie night in your fist before taking a deep breath and heading into the room. All eyes land on you and some of them smile.
“Heyyy, what’s goin’ on?” You put on your best smile, taking a plastic tray of cookies out of the paper bag in your hand. Some cookies you decorated personally for everyone.
You hand out the cookies, each of them different, and you’re fine until you get to the last one. It had Wolverine on it. He was wearing his little mask and you added little candy hearts onto it to make it look prettier. You hand it to Logan, and he huffs before reaching out and taking it.
“Anyone want any milk?” You ask, a smile still plastered on your face as Storm and Scott raise their hands, taking a bite into their cookie and you chuckle a little when Storms eyes roll and she gives you a thumbs up. She always loves your cookies.
As you enter the kitchen, you hear Scott speak to Logan. “I just don’t understand why that makes you hate her man. She’s happy.” He shrugs. “Why would you wanna change that?”
You walk back in before he can answer, but you see him lean over and whisper something to Scott as you hand the two milk glasses out.
It hurt, but obviously you weren’t gonna take it to heart. Right?
Wrong. Everyone notices it. The way your smile isn’t nearly as big as it normally is, the way you aren’t giving out random sweet treats to your friends, and the way you don’t hum while you’re cooking. But not one single person tries to talk to you, to see what’s wrong.
You make your way to the kitchen, thankful that another teacher has already put on coffee, and it was almost done brewing. But there were no other teachers in the lounge. Fine by you, means you didn’t have to smile at all. You move to the cupboards, taking out your favourite mug and placing it on the counter, then you jump when another mug hits the counter right next to you, a hand attached to it, you follow the hand, arm and then look up to the person's face. Logan. You sigh and groan on the inside but try to throw him a smile anyway. Except, instead of the normal scowl you would receive any other time, it was a confused look, his eyebrow cocked as if you just make the ugliest face known to man. But you ignore the look, moving around him to pour coffee in your mug as his eyes follow you, and you add what you like to your coffee.
“Hey.” Holy shit the devil speaks.
“Hey.” You respond meekly. The only conversation you’ve genuinely had with him.
“What’s goin’ on?” What?
“What do you mean?”
“You’re acting weird. Quiet.” You shrug, opening the fridge and taking out a snack and tossing it on the counter before looking for something else, just wanting to keep yourself busy as he questions you, but then you stiffen, two arms turning you and wrapping around you as Logan drowns you in a hug. You don’t even mean for it to happen when a tear falls down your cheek, and you lean into him as his hand rubs up and down your back.
And it was actually nice. But that asshole is the reason you’re sad. So you step back, wanting to melt into him but holding back.
“Didn’t you want me to be more quiet?” You mumble, him still holding onto you by loosely keeping his hands on your waist.
“What’re you talking about?”
“I heard what you were telling Scott and the others yesterday.” You see his face contort into confusion, and you want to punch him in the nose for acting confused.
“I think you heard it wrong.” He takes another step closer to you, and you’re sure he wants to hug you again, but you cross your arms, waiting for an explanation.
“Scott was saying you hate me… and you hate me being happy and-” You cut yourself off as your throat knots, biting your lip and tearing skin.
“I don’t hate you, I already told Scott that.”
“Then what did you whisper in his ear when I walked in?”
“Exactly that…” His voice becomes more urgent as he tries to stay patient with you. “That I never said I hated you. I just don’t like the way you act.”
“Because I’m happy?” You lift your shoulders, as if you’re offended.
“You’re not happy. Don’t lie to me.” Another tear falls down your cheek. “You can smile all you want, and be as sweet as your fucking cookies, but I know you’re not always a complete ray of fucking sunshine.” He tells you, once again trying to bring you into another hug, but you accept it this time.
“So you don’t hate me?” You sounded horrible, your voice cracking from the knot in your throat.
“No sweetheart, I could never hate you. But if you’re ever having a bad day, don’t just smile at me please.” He tells you. “Nothing will ever hurt you more than a fake smile.” He holds you a little tighter as tears continue trickling down your face.
“And don’t you ever smile again when you’re covered in blood and burnt, it was hot, but you looked like a psychopath.”
776 notes · View notes
lowkeyrobin · 1 month
Text
UMBRELLA! BEN ; a million timelines
summary ; you'll always end up with one certain face in every universe and timeline
warnings ; language
disclaimers ; ben isn't dead, umbrella! ben in fact bc I love that dork sm, viktor is already transitioned the whole way through, random word vomit
track ; not a lot, just forever, adrianne lenker
word count ; 1.1k
masterlist
Tumblr media
It seemed in every timeline, you'd be semy straight back to Ben's side.
You were intertwined, sewn together, in fact.
In 2019, you were reunited with him after Sir Reginald Hargreeves' death. You hadn't seen each other since you were kids, it'd been years.
You didn't have any special powers like the Hargreeves' did, you were just their normal friend who lived next door above the laundromat. You came back to town for other reasons, but when you heard the news, you had to go see them.
Your eyes first landed on Viktor, his short hair completely different from his old, long, luscious locks. You immediately smiled, wrapping him in a solemn hug, congratulating him yet showing remorse and compassion over his dad's timely demise.
You went through the rest of the siblings, other than Five, as he'd gone missing all those years ago.
Then up came Ben.
You could feel the soft look on his face as he looked at you, finally being reunited after all this time. He was by far your favorite of the academy, holding a special spot in your heart.
It wasn't just that his cool tentacle shit that drew you to him. He was a total dork, and you adored it. He always found a way to make you smile, he noticed the smallest of things, he was so sweet and compassionate. He could light up a room like a flashlight in the dark.
He wrapped you in a hug, spinning you around in joy.
"Oh my God, Y/n!"
"Ben!"
Your smiles were unmatched, the other siblings watching with little smiles, nostalgia crashing against their mental shores. They loved you too, but they also loved seeing their two favorite people together again.
"God, why are you here?"
"Came back for some stuff, but also for you guys. Sorry about your dad"
"It was coming-"
"He was murdered"
"Luther!"
You softly chuckle, hiding your face in his shoulder, enjoying the sweet dopamine rush infecting your brain.
Tumblr media
You were stuck to Ben by the hip, almost literally, as you landed on cold, wet concrete on April 28th, 1960. You share a panicked look, calling for any of the other Hargreeves' before eventually giving in to failure.
At least you still had each other.
You spent the next three years thinking the others were dead and that you were permanently trapped in the sixties. You worked in a bar, and he worked right beside you. You both didn't understand that without degrees, you were hired, but it was much better than nothing.
Then you were reunited with Klaus, then Five, then the others.
But of course, some weird fuck up in the space time continuum forced the world to attempt to kill itself, again.
And once again, you stood behind Ben as he unleashed the tentacles from his internal organs to protect you and his family.
Good God, what did you do to get wrapped up in all this?
Tumblr media
That lead you all astray again back in 2019, thankfully, but some other superpowered people had taken the Umbrella Academy's place. The Sparrow Academy.
But once again, you were right by Ben's side.
You were at his side during the first Kugelblitz, travelling with Five and Klaus to meet Klaus' already deceased mom, and at the end-of-the-world wedding between Luther and Sloane.
You now sit at the bar at the Hotel Obisidian, sipping on mocktails as you watch Luther and Sloane break it down on the dance floor. A tune calls your name, screaming for you and Ben to jump out there.
Just Like Heaven by The Cure.
"Oh my God, we loved The Cure when we were little!" You giggle, only a buzz directing the slight slur in your words.
Ben smiles, "We did"
"Come on" You quickly set your glass down on the counter, looking over at Ben, who hasn't moved, giving you a raised eyebrow. "C'mon, Ben"
He looks over at Five who rolls his eyes, sipping on some sort of champagne. Ben gives into your pleads, setting his glass down to go with you.
You join Luther and Sloane, and Klaus and Viktor, on the dance floor, allowing the song to consume you inside out. You jump about, singing along to the lyrics as you hold each other's hands.
Colorful lights splash upon your faces, blinding you for milliseconds as they pass you by.
Five, now accompanied by Diego and Lila, watches you two from afar. He lightly smiles, enjoying the smiles on your faces as you await to be disintegrated into dust as the world crumbles around you.
"Even in every jump across the space time continuum and in every alternate timeline that will somehow find a way to end, they're always at the end together" Five observes, glancing over at the couple, elbows rested against the bar behind him.
Lila gives him a cringed look, not understanding a word of the gibberish he'd just spoken. Diego sighs and shakes his head, taking a bite out of a bologna sandwich he made for himself.
"It's cute," Five clarifies.
"Why don't you get out there?" Diego asks Five, "The world is about to end. Enjoy it, Ebenezer Scrooge McDuck"
Five chuckles. "Yeah, let me go enjoy the world fading into dust at every touch." He sets his glass down on the bar, deciding to go join the enthusiastic group of mentally dead Hargreeves' plus you.
You and Ben, even as the song switches, continue to dance together, creating a little circle with Klaus and Viktor so Sloane and Luther could have their little alone time. Eventually, the whole family is on the dance floor, enjoying their final hours on Earth.
After a while, you crash on the floor beneath the couch, mindlessly listening to Luther, Five, Diego, Klaus, and Viktor drunkenly sing along to Seal's Kiss From A Rose. Allison, Sloane, and Lila enjoy the show, singing along from the couch.
Five, noticing you two were slumped over, half dead, calls out to you. "Hey, lovebirds! Get up here!"
You and Ben immediately look down toward each other, your feet touching one another's, giggling like little kids as you realize what Five had called you. You crawl up to your hands and knees, then rise to your feet, joining the brothers up on the little karaoke stage.
"Now that your rose is in bloom, a light hits the gloom on the grey!"
It was true, in the end of each timeline, in each version of the world ending, you and Ben would end up side by side. Nothing, not even theories and paradoxes, and jumps across the fabric of the universe could separate you.
517 notes · View notes
Text
Slippery Rendezvous
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.5k
Warnings: none
Summary: Natasha doesn’t approve of your feelings for Bucky despite your many attempts to convince her that he is the man for you. What else can you do when she forbids you to date any of her friends?
Squares Filled: natasha romanoff / black widow (2021) for @buckybarnesbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3
Tumblr media
x
You wake up to an empty bed. What did you expect? That he’d stay? Bucky isn’t known to spend the night after fucking you but you keep wishing he would. You run your hand down his side of the bed and feel the cool sheets. He must have left early in the morning so that your sister wouldn’t see him.
It’s not like she hates him but she hates the idea of you being with any one of her “coworkers”. Natasha isn’t shy when it comes to relationships and often encourages you to go out and have fun with different men. She loves dating even if she doesn’t show it, and you love telling her about all the dates you get to go on. The issue is that she doesn’t want you dating anyone she knows. She knows the baggage that comes with the men she knows and doesn’t want you mixed up with it.
You went to University to get a degree as a voice actor. You’ve gotten gigs across the country but ultimately settled in New York where you got a job working on a popular animated television series. You’re already in your third season and have no plans of stopping anytime soon. Natasha loves to tell you how normal you are and how different you are compared to the shit she goes through every day.
You’re not a spy and you have no desire to be a spy. You’re not Natasha’s biological sister because you came into her life well after she got done with the Red Room training. She was on a mission to kill your father for all the bad shit he has been doing. You hated the man and had always wanted to leave. However, your mother died at birth and you were a minor at the time. He always hid his shady shit which is why he didn’t get convicted for anything.
She saved you and she adopted you a couple of years later. You don’t blame her for your father’s death even if she did pull the trigger. He’s a bad man who is rotting in Hell and you’re better off for it. Now, you have a successful job and are in love with the infamous Winter Soldier. Only he doesn’t know it and if he does, he doesn’t do anything about it.
You two met when Natasha was having a party at the Avengers Compound. She didn’t want you to go but you insisted that with her by your side, you’ll be fine. It’s not like the Avengers are going to pick a fight with you or anything. Even Bruce had his alter ego under control, so she relented and let you come.
Her world is and was much different than yours. She told stories of how she went to space, how she kicked someone’s ass, and how she infiltrated an organization. All you have to show for is the work you’ve done for entertainment. You’re not nearly as special as any of them but Bucky makes you feel like you are.
He kept to himself in the corner of the room drinking something that wasn’t alcohol when you approached him.
“Hi. Do you mind if I join you?”
“No, go ahead,” he clears his throat.
“I’m Y/N. I’m Natasha’s sister. Adopted sister, actually, but she feels like a real one to me. What’s your name?”
“You seriously don’t know who I am?” he chuckles.
“I know who you are but I’d thought I’d be polite and let you introduce yourself instead of assuming I know everything about you.”
“Right,” he nods. “I’m Bucky.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.”
You two fell into conversation that lasted well past the party. Natasha had a secret thing for Steve and didn’t mind staying over as long as you were safe and okay with staying. You left that night with thoughts of Bucky and when the next time you were going to see him, but Natasha didn’t share your enthusiasm.
“Listen, I don’t want to tell you what to do but I don’t want you seeing Bucky.”
“Funny. That sounds exactly like you telling me what to do,” you scoff.
“I mean it, Y/N. Bucky is a good guy now but he wasn’t always like this. He’s not all the way back yet and I don’t want you getting hurt. With any of them. They have too much baggage and you don’t need something like that in your life.”
You look out the window in annoyance.
“I just spent the last two hours talking to a guy who made me feel like I was the only woman in the world. I’m not saying I want to marry the guy but I felt something that I haven’t felt with any of the guys I’ve dated.”
“I knew bringing you to that party was a bad idea,” she scoffs. “You’re not seeing Bucky. End of story.”
“I am an adult, Nat. Let me make my own decisions. Let me decide if he’s worth the heartbreak.”
“He will do more than break your heart. He will break you. He didn’t get his name for nothing. His body count is well into the hundreds if not thousands. I am not worried about him breaking your heart. I’m worried about him killing you. I mean it, Y/N. Stay away from that one.”
You tried, God knows you tried, but there is something about Bucky that you couldn’t stay away from. You formed friendships with Wanda and Thor which gave you an excuse of going to the compound where you knew Bucky was living. Wanda caught on pretty quickly at what you were trying to do since she can read minds and all that, and she agreed to keep your affair with Bucky from your sister.
You’re not trying to hurt Natasha but you fell for Bucky and fell for him hard. He just never stays the night like you hope he does.
You get out of bed and walk to the bathroom where you hear the shower going. Natasha must be in there. You slip in and knock on the door to let her know that you’re inside the bathroom with her.
“Hey, Nat, I’m just going to brush my teeth. I’ll be out shortly.”
You slip in, close the door behind you, and walk over to the sink.
“I’m not Nat.”
You tense when you hear Bucky’s deep voice but then smile when you realize he slept the night in your bed. The curtain slides to the side just enough for him to peek his head out of it, and you turn to face him.
“I thought you left last night.”
“Nope. I wanted to stay the night with you. Is that okay?”
“It’s more than okay.”
He closes the curtain again and resumes cleaning himself.
“Got any plans today?”
You’re about to answer when you hear the front door slam open and shut. Natasha is the only one who has a key so she must be back. If she found out Bucky has not only been dating you but secretly fucking you, she’d have a heart attack and probably kill him.
“Y/N? Are you in there?” The bathroom door shakes and you do the first thing that comes to mind. You quickly hop in the shower, fully clothed, and look at Bucky who smirks. The door opens and Nat walks in. “Y/N?”
“I’m in the shower!” Bucky’s mouth opens so you place your hand over it so he understands he needs to be quiet. “What do you want?”
“Listen, Steve and some of the guys are having a cookout at Clint’s farm. I was wondering if you wanted to come with me.”
“Really? You’ll let me go?”
“I feel bad and I shouldn’t keep you away from your friends.”
“Is Bucky going to be there?”
Bucky nods and looks at you with mischievous eyes.
“Yeah.”
“Then I’ll go.”
“I invited you because Wanda and Thor will be there. They’re your friends.”
“I know.”
“Y/N…”
“It’s fine, Nat. I’ll hang with them.”
“Okay. We leave in an hour.”
She leaves the bathroom and you remove your hand from Bucky’s mouth knowing you didn’t need it to be there. He knows Natasha’s opinion of him and how she wouldn’t approve of you two dating. He just wanted to feel your hands on him if he’s being honest.
“Great, now I’m all wet. Look what you did.”
“I like it when you’re wet,” he smirks.
You shove his shoulder and scoff playfully but he grabs you and pulls you into him. He slides his hands into your hair and kisses you. He must forget the situation you’re in because you can feel his growing arousal on your stomach.
“No, Bucky, we should stop. I will not be tempted into shower sex again. Remember what happened last time?”
“Damn, my arm malfunctions one time and you’re triggered.”
“Can I trust you to keep your hands to yourself at this cookout?”
“No,” he chuckles. “It’s gonna be hard not to. Now I’m picturing you wet.”
“Hurry up and leave before she finds you in here. I’d rather not know what a fight between Black Widow and the Winter Soldier looks like.”
You slip out of the shower and back to your room without your sister noticing. While you’d like your relationship to be out in the open, sneaking around is just too much damn fun.
Tumblr media
x
Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
417 notes · View notes
ggidolsmuts · 1 month
Text
Career Killer, Decision Maker
Tumblr media
"So, this is it huh?"
"Yes."
"I wish you all the best."
"Thank you, Miss. Lee, it was a pleasure working with you." You hold out a friendly hand.
"Of course, likewise." She takes it.
How did you even get to this point?
After Yeonwoo's confidence boost you were the perfect right-hand man to her, and Yeonwoo kept you close for your good work, and together both of you rose in the ranks—she took care of you, and you backed her up.
Of course, she kept you close for other reasons, and she certainly took care of you as well...
"I didn't know that coming home with you was part of my performance review."
"Shh, not so loud, the neighbors might hear!" Yeonwoo pushes you through her door and shuts it behind her. "It's part of mine." Your pants seem to unbuckle themselves as you take in Yeonwoo's sweet tongue, and soon Yeonwoo is the one doing the taking, wrapping her tongue around your shaft.
"Oh fuck that's so good!" She has you leaning against the door, thrusting your hips out and pushing her head towards it. You pray the neighbors don't hear your piteous whine when Yeonwoo grazes her teeth ever so lightly across your shaft—Yeonwoo is your boss in the office, and occasionally work bleeds into personal life, your knees buckling against her kneeling form. She grabs you by the balls, and you head thumps quite loudly against the door as you cum, dumping a load straight down her throat. When you come to you are the one on the floor, with Yeonwoo standing over you.
"So, as part of our 360 degree review, how was my performance?"
"Exceeds expectations." You shakily stand up and kiss her passionately, sweeping her up in your arms. 
"Can you stay the night?" Yeonwoo pleads with round eyes, her fingers tightly gripping your shirt.
"Only if you don't wrinkle my shirt, I'll still need it for tomorrow." She wraps her arms around your neck instead, keeping your shirt unwrinkled, all so that you can wrinkle her sheets with her tonight.
You wake up the next morning with Yeonwoo all dressed up and kissing your cheek—she's already heading out.
"Don't be late."
You arrive slightly late to work, and wearing the same clothes as yesterday, but thankfully no one notices beyond a few knowing grins and nudges from a co-worker or two.
That probably wasn't how things got to this point though. 
At least, mostly likely not.
You're hard at your desk, listening to Yeonwoo breathe heavily through your ear buds. She had lost a bet with you the night before, and knowing that she had only a few meetings today, you made her slip a vibrator in her during the day.
"Nngh... Fuck I'm so wet," she whimpers into the phone. "Can I take it out?"
"No, keep it in, you sound so hot." You up the intensity, and you hear Yeonwoo gasp before whining even harder. She squirms in her chair, praying that she isn't soaking through her pencil skirt. You resist the urge to touch yourself, and it is a good thing you didn't as you suddenly feel a tap on your shoulder.
"Hey man, still here?" You quickly sit upright and move yourself closer to your desk, making sure your co-worker doesn't see your hard on. "I was calling for you earlier."
"Huh? Yeah sorry, on the phone with customer support, they've kept me waiting with the stupid music, didn't hear you."
"Oh ugh yeah it's always bad. Anyways we were going to order some dinner in the office, you want any?"
"I'm good, thanks, gonna head out soon."
"Alright. Oh what's this?" To your horror they grab the remote controlling Yeonwoo's vibrator, and hurriedly you snatch it from them—you need to come up with something!
"O-Oh, just a toy, fidget spinner thing, I just click it whenever I'm bored."
Yeonwoo hears your conversation through her own earbuds, and to her sheer pleasure and terror she feels the vibrator inside her pulse erratically. It's one thing to constantly try to resist the urge to just cum in her office, but it's a whole different thing to have the pleasure come in waves. Yeonwoo leaks like a broken dam as they crash against her mental barrier.
"S-Stop, turn it off, turn it off!" She whispers harshly, her mind going white. She takes deep breaths, just trying to not scream as her orgasm creeps up on her inexorably.
"Fu— Mmmmm fuck!" So close, but then— "No! Damn it!" Thankfully she feels the vibrator stop, but unfortunately the pleasure is ripped from her far too quickly—her orgasm was ruined! It takes a while before she can get off her chair, but when she does she is seething.
You and your co-worker are surprised by a livid Yeonwoo storming towards you.
"Miss Lee, I didn't know you were still in! We're ordering dinner, would you—"
"No, thank you. And you, you missed a deliverable and the customer is pissed. We need to fix it, right now. Follow me." Your co-worker is scared into silence as you follow Yeonwoo into the elevator. She walks you out the building and into the carpark. "Get in." You make to get in the passenger seat, but she yanks you back by the collar. "In the back!" As soon as you get in Yeonwoo's on top of you, slamming the door shut with a hook of her heels.
"You fucking ruined my orgasm!" Off pops one, then a second button as Yeonwoo tugs on your collar, pulling your shirt open. You hiss in pain as she leaves a mark on your neck, sucking harshly on your skin. Her hands trail lower, on to your pants.
"Yeonwoo! We can't do it here!"
"I'm not." She pulls your cock out, and in short order she's threatening to suck your soul out, giving you the blowjob of your life.
"Fuck Yeonwoo, fuck... Oh fuck!" You groan and moan, but as you try to thrust and push deep into her mouth she gets off, leaving you to hurriedly pull your pants back up as she opens the door to the night air.
"Now get out and drive us to your place."
"What the fuck Yeonwoo!"
"Now you kinda know how it feels, be glad I didn't ruin your orgasm." It was definitely not the safest thing to do, to drive while horny, and certainly not safe to drive fast while horny, with Yeonwoo next to you rubbing your thigh, teasingly moving up and in. Luckily you make it back to your place in one piece, and as the door slams shut behind you Yeonwoo is ripping your shirt open, hungrily pushing you to the bedroom. The contrast with how she takes off your clothes versus how she takes off her own clothes is almost comical, but with barely measured composure she leaves them neatly on the floor before jumping you. There is a loud ripping sound as you tear off her underwear, trying to gain access to her.
"Yah!" There is a loud stinging pain on your chest as the two of you freeze, the frenzied mood put on pause. Yeonwoo merely bites her lower lip, saying sorry, protecting her underwear, and teasing you, all at once as she silently removes her bra. As you latch your lip on an already stiff nipple Yeonwoo gasps, hugging your head to her chest and pushing her hips against yours needily. The frenzied mood quickly returns when she grabs you underneath your boxers, and it is a signal to kick them off and get naked.
Your lips moan against hers when Yeonwoo sinks her hips on you, and you have to squeeze her ass to hold her still.
"Ugh, I'm close already."
"What?"
"You're the one who teased me earlier."
"Don't you dare cum before me!" Yeonwoo pushes you on your back, and with one hand on your chest she holds you down while she starts rubbing her clit with the other.
"This isn't any better!" you gasp, watching Yeonwoo try and get herself off. She shuts you up by kissing you, letting her own whimpers leak into your mouth. As she gets close to her peak her hips start going up and down, humping you and bringing you close too.
"Yeonwoo—"
"Cum with me, just cum with me..." She grabs your hand, bringing it to her ass that you love so much. You squeeze her reflexively, and Yeonwoo mewls. The two of you cum together, her walls seeming to vibrate around you as your cock throbs against her. Yeonwoo purrs when she gets off you, murmuring happily at the thick load dripping out of her.
"Now that was much better than a ruined orgasm."
"I hope that made it up to you," you whisper, kissing her parted lips.
"Almost, let me use your shower and we're even."
"Go ahead." Yeonwoo sighs in relief as the hot water runs over her lithe body—it was a quick but good session, and she was dreading the long trip home. As she steps out, she is pleasantly surprised by you wrapping a towel around her, hugging her tightly.
"What's gotten into you?" But in reality, she already knew what you wanted.
"You should stay the night."
"I really shouldn't— Mmm..." Yeonwoo really shouldn't stay the night, she'd have to get up early to change, or not change at all. And what if someone notices the two of you coming in together? Your lips are a very persuasive argument against Yeonwoo's concerns though, finding the spot on her neck that would make her knees go weak. She braces herself against the sink unknowingly, allowing the towel to fall off her.
"It's not a good idea," she protests weakly even as she goes on her tiptoes, trying and failing to not feel you hilted deep inside her already.
"It'll be fine," you assure her. Yeonwoo opens her mouth to argue more, but she is silenced by the sensation of something hard pushing against her puckered ring! "Good thing you didn't leave this in the office."
"You— Ah!" Yeonwoo can't help but moan before continuing. "You went digging in my purse?"
"It spilled out earlier. But enough about that, you should just stay the night." A surge of pleasure rockets through Yeonwoo as she feels the vibrator switch on in her ass, and she can only yell when you start thrusting.
"Yes yes yes!"
Little did either of you know that it would be the beginning of the end, for a few people noted Yeonwoo coming in with the same clothes as yesterday, and more than a few people saw how she walked a little different, a side effect from you opening both her holes up the night before. Presumably no one would be able to see how she had no underwear on the whole day, but regardless, lurid rumors began to swirl, the workplace speculating on how she was in a particularly good mood that day.
It then turned toxic, with people wondering if she slept her way to the top, and you had to make sure to never ask Yeonwoo to stay the night again. It got worse when people noted how you had rose in the company with Yeonwoo, that maybe she pulled you up with her, keeping her boytoy nearby. You forced yourself to keep a distance from her, to protect her, to protect yourself, to protect both of you.
"Why are you avoiding me?" she asks you flat out after a meeting, where you unfortunately allowed yourself to be the last one in the room with her.
"I don't know what you mean."
"You don't drop by my office, you decline our 1-on-1s, you want to handle everything by email, and don't pretend I don't notice that you're always the first one out of meetings now. What's going on?"
"People are talking, it's bullshit but the rumors are bad. I'm doing this to protect you."
"You can protect me by telling me what's going on."
"You really don't know?"
"No."
"They say you're sleeping your way to the top, and that we're involved, and that I'm benefiting." Yeonwoo's reaction is muted, but you can see her hands grabbing the folder tightly, threatening to crumple it entirely.
"That's it? That's all? I don't care about that."
"But I do, I hear it, even if you don't."
"You want to get rid of them? I'll promote you, and you can fire them."
"That would be proving them right."
"What do you want me to do then?" Yeonwoo asks, exasperated. You mean I can't do anything for you?
"I think we should stop, you know, our thing."
"You want to break up?" she is quiet, deathly so. Her face turns pale when you answer back.
"I... Didn't think we were in something to break up for? W-Were we?" you ask, suddenly unsure of how Yeonwoo felt. Everything was casual, the sex was great, but you had never asked her out on date, and you never got the inkling she wanted to make things serious and official, but the way she spoke about breaking up...
"No. You're right, we're done then," her whisper cuts through the thick air, and she leaves with a slam of the door.
You continued avoiding her, and thankfully Yeonwoo stopped approaching you individually. That said, you realize painfully that absence does make the heart grow fonder, and you started missing Yeonwoo. Running into her randomly in the offices did not help, and soon you are the one pining for her, rather than the other way around. You also know that there's no way you can get back with her, and working with her isn't helping you forget about her either, so you come to the logical conclusion.
"So, this is it huh?" Yeonwoo asks, calling you in once she saw your resignation email.
"Yes."
"I wish you all the best."
"Thank you, Miss Lee, it was a pleasure working with you." You hold out a friendly hand.
"Of course, likewise." She takes it, and doesn't let go.
"I'll miss you, um, you were a good worker." The last few words tumble out of her rushed, blurting out the truth and then a lie.
"Yes, I'll miss working with you." You manage to couch your feelings better. Your thumb traces the back of her hand, and Yeonwoo twitches, quickly pulling her hand back.
"T-That's all then, good bye."
Much to Yeonwoo's chagrin (probably, you had no way of knowing), you join your competitor, diving into the same work you were doing before except without having to, or in some ways, getting to, see Yeonwoo. All was fine, and she faded from memory eventually—or at least, you weren't thinking of her as much.
You wonder if it was the same for Yeonwoo...
"Should I stay the night?" he asks her, a hand teasingly cupping her breast, no doubt wanting her to say yes.
"No, sorry, I have to be get in early tomorrow."
"What about me? I would love to 'get in' early tomorrow too," the whisper is soft and husky, yet almost repulsive to Yeonwoo.
"No, you should leave." She wraps the blanket around herself and stands up.
"What the fuck Yeonwoo?" This wasn't the first time this has happened, and her amour is pissed. "You never come over to my place, and you never let me spend the night here!"
"We're keeping things casual."
"Even so, it wouldn't hurt for us to spend the night together would it? God I bet you'd be a lot happier in the morning if you get a nice quickie in before going to the office."
"What the fuck did you say?" Now he touched a nerve. "Get the fuck out, right now."
"What? All I'm saying is having some morning wood with your coffee wouldn't be—"
"Leave, right now, before I throw you out naked." He gets the hint quickly, tripping over himself as he dresses, and stumbling out the door, but not before throwing one last barb in.
"You're fucking crazy, you know that? Who would want to be with you?"
Yeonwoo drops to the bed as he slams the door shut, burying her face in her hands, frustrated even after the romp. It wasn't the first argument she had over this with him, nor was he the first person she's had multiple arguments with about it. She could not, and would not, allow someone else to stay over, not after what happened with you. She didn't want to risk her career or her heart anymore. Yeonwoo sighs and picks up the used condom, discarding it, much like everything else she has thrown away.
What did she have to show for it?
Tumblr media
Well, she could attend swanky events, wearing a sleek black dress that screamed power and position. "That's something, I guess," Yeonwoo thinks to herself, even as she sips wine more expensive than her secretary's salary. She could relax a little, even in the terse, stuffy atmosphere of a VIP event. Even if it was an industry event, there's no way she would run into—
"Miss Lee, what a pleasure seeing you here!" Ugh, just from the voice she recognized it as an exec at one of her company's biggest competitors. Oh well, just smile and be polite.
"Oh come on now, you knew I'd be here—" She stops short, stunned at who she's looking at next to the exec.
"Of course. I wanted to introduce you to our newest director, I can't believe you let him go."
"Long time no see, Miss Lee," you bow politely to her.
"Oh, yes, small world. I see you're doing well at your new company."
"He has! I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw the work he was doing! Anyways, enjoy the event! Come." Yeonwoo watches you walk away from her, and the glass in her hand trembles slightly.
The day done, you sit at the bar and relax, nursing your drink. Seeing Yeonwoo again was enough to throw you off a little, and seeing her in the audience of your presentation made you stumble over a few words, although it was still very well received.
"You're out of practice." You'd recognize that voice anywhere.
"They don't make me do as many of those."
"I'll let your boss know to do so. Still, good enough." Yeonwoo raises her own drink in salute.
"Thanks. It's okay for you to be here talking to me?"
"What, nothing wrong with just two former co-workers catching up and talking shop right?"
"Yeah but we're also competitors. What if someone at your company sees you talking to me, you remember what happened before right?" You watch Yeonwoo's eyebrows furrow briefly, before taking in the rest of her face—you had seen her with and without makeup before but damn, her makeup today looked perfect. You flinch slightly as her hand brushes yours.
"That's all in the past, don't worry about me." She's grabbed your drink, finishing it for you. "Besides, if you're so worried, how about we do it in my room?"
"Y-You mean talk right?"
"Of course, just talking business."
You should've known better, but you find yourself not talking business, but getting down to business with Yeonwoo as she pushes you on the bed. Automatically your hands go to her waist, admiring her curves over the slim black dress and letting her get on top of you.
"Fuck I've missed you so much," she murmurs into your neck, her hands diving daringly under your shirt. Yeonwoo's soft body presses into you, and you allow yourself to drift down her body, feeling her ass and squeezing—god that feels so good! She's smiling into your neck, using a hand to guide you to her chest, wanting you to feel her there too. She purrs as you kiss her lips, her jaw, her neck...
But that's not the only sound you hear, you hear a vibration. A phone, business. Work.
Shit.
"Yeonwoo, what are you doing? We can't be doing this! It's a huge conflict of interest."
"I don't know about conflict, but there's certainly an interest..." She palms your cock over your slacks, kissing you more fervently, trying to get you to comply.
"Do you know what you're doing? You're literally sleeping with the enemy!" You push her back by the shoulders. Yeonwoo sits her hips more firmly down on you, but you manage to roll her off. "We can't be doing this!"
"Is that all I am to you now? Enemy?!" She wraps her arms around you, hugging you from behind—fuck she feels so soft, and you're still hard. "Just stay the night, no one has to know, no one will know..." Her hands drift to your belt, trying to undo it, undo all that she's done to get here.
"Let me go Yeonwoo," you manage to utter, hoarsely. You grab her hands, stopping her. "Please." They retract. "You're not my enemy, I just don't want you to get hurt, to hurt your career."
"That's not your choice to make. Who are you to make choices for me? I just want you back!"
"Are you really going to give up your career for something like this?" Yeonwoo is silent, and you walk out on her. But you're still hard, fuck, how did things get to this?
Yeonwoo was right, who are you to make choices for her? The only choices you should be making are your own. What did you want?
Tumblr media
Yeonwoo gazes out her window at the cloudy sky, the sun setting dimly behind it. She's working at home for once, but that also means she'll be working through the night for once too. She sighs and stretches in her chair—another long and boring day. There's a knock on the door, who could it be?
"It's you." She hadn't seen you since that time at the conference, nearly two months ago. Yeonwoo had blocked it out of her mind—it was shameless, cringy, desperate, everything that she didn't want to do, and yet she did it then, in a moment of weakness! And now here you are, standing in front of her, and all she can say is "It's you"? What else can I say? Why are you here?
"Yeah, can I come in?" you ask, cautiously.
"Ah, um yes." She blushes slightly as she leads you in, aware of the unintentional show she's suddenly putting on—Yeonwoo's wearing a blouse appropriate for video calls, but underneath that is the tiniest pair of shorts possible. This was not how she had planned meeting you again. "What's the matter?"
"I've been thinking about what you said last time."
"Oh, what I said last time?" What did I say last time? All Yeonwoo can remember is her throwing herself at you.
"Yeah, about me making the choice for you. Like who am I to make choices for you."
"Oh I—"
"Well you were right, I shouldn't have done that. I should be making choices for myself."
"That's good to hear." Yeonwoo says, not knowing where you're going with this.
"I quit my job."
"What? Why would you do that!" Her mind immediately goes places. "We're not hiring right now, it's not going to be easy to find the budget for you—"
"I don't want to come back."
"Do you have a job lined up already? I can find someone to refer—"
"No Yeonwoo, that's not the point!" Yeonwoo has her breath taken away as you wrap your arms tightly around her. "I left my job to be with you. It's not right for me to choose for you, so I'm choosing for myself."
She's still in your arms, so still that you had to ask. "Yeonwoo?"
"W-What do you mean?" She's grabbing your t-shirt from the back, fists of fabric trembling.
"I want to be with you, and I don't want to hurt your career, so I ended mine."
"But why?"
"I made the choice for us, so you don't have to." She pulls on your shirt even harder, and you had to speak up. "You're choking me like this."
"I can make my own choices right?"
"Yes, of course." Your heart drops for a moment—is she going to choose no, to reject you? Her fingers go to your hair, pulling it, this is going to hurt—
She smashes her lips against yours, wiping away all doubt. She grips you oh so tightly, lips pressed almost too harshly against yours, as if to never let you go—that's her choice.
"That night, at the conference, in the hotel..." Yeonwoo's murmuring into your neck again, hands diving under your shirt once more—it all comes back vividly to you.
"I want you to choose again."
You find yourself on a bed, except this time instead of Yeonwoo's hotel room, you're in her bedroom. She's pressed on top of you similarly, but this time your hands slip easily under her tiny shorts, allowing you to squeeze her ass directly, and it feels even better. She sits up on you, smirking teasingly as she unbuttons her blouse—she has you exactly where she wants you, and you're not pushing her off this time. As the blouse falls off her shoulders you hug her close, hand moving to her back.
"Let me."
Yeonwoo hums as she lets you remove her bra. Her hands run through your hair and move down your shoulders, feeling your arms; her memories of that night run through her head, and she begins sharing them without reserve.
"Fuck... Do you remember that night?" 
"I regret leaving," you mumble, squeezing her ass while you bury yourself in her bare chest.
"I'll make you regret it even more, do you know what I did after I finished crying?" She doesn't wait to hear your apology, she wants to skip right to the good part. "Feeling you for the first time in so long, god I just had to get myself off." She's humping you not so subtly even now, and you can feel her through your tent and her tiny shorts.
"Yeonwoo!"
"I wondered if you would come back, maybe turn back at some point. I kept edging myself, rubbing my clit in circles, I wanted you to be the one who made me cum. Except you never did."
"Yeonwoo I—" You feel a strange mix of guilt and arousal, her words painting a picture of what happened in the hotel room after you left. She plunges on, her nails teasing your chest—when did she take your shirt off?
"I debated taking photos, show you just how much I wanted you, needed you." You imagined Yeonwoo on the bed, legs apart, fingers parting her pussy for you, or maybe plunged deep inside her. "That maybe you'd come back to me if I took a video for you." You can imagine, no, recall how Yeonwoo would look and sound when she came—you needed to see that right now!
"Mmm fuck Yeonwoo!" you murmur into her neck.
"Yes, I need you to fuck me, god I'm so wet already." You shimmy your pants and boxers off just enough, and in the time it took you to do that Yeonwoo kicks off her small shorts and soaked panties. Fully naked she simply grabs your stiffness and without another word sinks herself down on you. The sound she makes is utterly unholy, one of want, and one of thirst satisfied.
"Yeon— mmph!" She catches your words with her lips and rides your cock with her hips. There is no stopping the freight train of pleasure pumping right into Yeonwoo as she lets herself run wild with desire, gripping your shoulders tightly and bouncing herself on you with wanton abandon. She covers your cock with slick, and the lewd squelch of her humping joins the moans in the bedroom. All you can do is hold on and try not to cum.
"I'm cumming, I'm cumming, cumming!" Yeonwoo squeals, suddenly going still and sighing as she clenches around you. All the strength seems to concentrate around her pussy as she slumps against you, even as you have to groan and shut your eyes, trying to withstand the strong tugs of her walls around your shaft, eager to have more of you in her. "Oh fuck, never leave me." She sighs into your neck.
"Never again." You roll the two of you over, and Yeonwoo glances sideways at the vacated part of the bed.
"Oh, that was how drenched the sheets were after that night too," she teases, trying to rile you up more. And you knew just how to get her back for it.
"Do you have a condom?"
"Hm? You can cum in me—" Yeonwoo goes pink—she didn't quite mean it like that, but she feels you throb, and Yeonwoo wraps her legs around you. "That is, unless you don't want to?"
It takes all of your self-control to not pound her into the bed, to have her moan your name as you give her what she wants—a thick creampie months in the making.
"Not yet, just get me the condoms." Yeonwoo directs you to a drawer in her nightstand, and you find and pull out an opened box of condoms. "Seeing someone? I'm not going to regret this am I?"
"No, that was a while ago." She caresses your cheek for emphasis. "I haven't seen anyone since, just never threw it out. I didn't let them do me raw, but you can, so we can just skip the condoms and—"
"I will, but." You sink deep into Yeonwoo, and her walls seem to clench around you in response to your words. "I want to fuck your ass."
"Oh!" she whines as you pull out and take a condom from the box. "It's been a while... Since our last time, actually."
"That long? I'll go slow then." Properly wrapped, you push into Yeonwoo's pussy first, getting some of her juice over the rubber.
"No, don't! Make it hurt, like our first time." Your mind goes back to the first time you had Yeonwoo's ass, slamming into her and pounding her until she looked back at you, tears running down her face... and slick running down her thighs. She throws her hands around your neck, bringing you in close as your tip nudges against her puckered hole. "Make it hurt, I want to feel you in my ass, but afterwards, afterwards—" Yeonwoo whines a little as you breach her, feeling something enter her ass for the first time in a while.
"Afterwards, don't hurt me again." You push into her harshly, and Yeonwoo yelps before her cry is muffled by your kiss, holding her face in your hands. Her eyes are watery when she opens them again, but they also sparkle, especially when you mumble into her ear.
"Never again." You push deeper into her, relishing in the unique tightness that is Yeonwoo's rear, adding rubs of her clit to help the pain subside, to give her some pleasure. You focus more on her pussy, happy to keep yourself buried in her ass, just letting her get used to the shape of you in there once more. You rub and pinch and press on her little button, and soon Yeonwoo's squirming underneath you, softly moaning, until finally she can't take it anymore—she grabs your hand, bringing it to her hips instead.
"Fuck me already!" You start pumping her with slow and firm thrusts, and you the see first sign of pleasure from the anal fucking—her lipbite, lethal as ever, a mix of pain and delicious pleasure on her face. "Oh god that's good, you fuck my ass so good... Nngh!" Yeonwoo starts rubbing herself, chasing that high she needed from you taking her ass. To her dismay you pull out just as she's close, but before she can complain you rip off the condom and plunge back into her pussy.
"Mmm!" The sudden and different pleasure catches her by surprise, and only a few hard thrusts are needed for her to throw her head back and cum. She's speechless, head in the clouds while her body bucks and writhes beneath you. Meanwhile you have the box of condoms in hand—Yeonwoo's not going to use them in the future, not if you had your say in it.
So might as well use them all now?
You roll a new condom on your cock, and Yeonwoo can only groan as you push into her.
"Oh fuck, you're in my ass again..."
You give her what she wants on the second go around, rubbing her clit and making her cum while you're stuffing her ass. Once she's done with her anal orgasm you rip the condom off again to fuck her pussy raw to another climax. Rinse and repeat. The process allows your pleasure to subside between rolling on and taking off the condom, letting you fuck Yeonwoo in both her holes longer. Your usually smart and sharp-tongued former boss is lost to bliss, her eyes vacant, tongue slipping out between her lips when you rattle her with a particularly hard thrust. She barely notices when you roll her on to all fours and get behind her, both holes winking and gaping at you, begging for more.
"Nngh!" Yeonwoo groans when you take her from behind, the new position allowing you to get deeper inside her. 
"Fuck, you take my cock up your ass so well!" you curse, sliding easily into her.
"Then don't stop, don't stop fucking me!" You answer her with a smack on her ass, watching her cheek jiggle as you do as she says. Yeonwoo drops her head to the pillow, her world spinning as she's quickly cumming again.
"It's so good!" *Rip* You open one more condom.
"Baby..." You toss another one away, letting Yeonwoo get one word in before you put her on back and fuck her pussy again, rendering her incoherently happy once more.
"Too... ahhh much!" You reach for the box, and Yeonwoo's hand is on yours, stopping you. She looks delicate, absolutely shattered, wrecked like the first time you ever fucked her—hair a mess, a bit of drool from her mouth, eyes watery in pleasure. You grab the box anyways, only to find it empty—you've done what you set out to do and used up all the rubbers in there! She grabs the box from your hand, crumpling it and tossing it aside—Yeonwoo had more urgent urges. "Cum for me, cum in me raw, I want to feel you in me now!"
Between her begging and the long session you realize you've delayed your own orgasm for far too long, and you're just about ready to burst. She hugs you close, hips grinding up in response to your throbbing length.
"Cum in me, fill me up." Yeonwoo whines when you start losing it, going even harder into her. "You're so deep in me! Fuck, fuck me deeper, harder! Oh my god, I'm going to cum with you, you're going to make me cum—" She actually goes off the cliff first, but you're right there behind her with a loud groan.
Yeonwoo shudders through her climax, and the first sensation coming off her peak is your throbbing thickness deep inside her, followed by the sound of your moans in her ear, and finally the thick cum splattering her walls. She may have been the one to orgasm multiple times tonight, but Yeonwoo feels you filling her with many orgasms' worth of ejaculate all at once. You rut into her, riding out your own peak, and Yeonwoo moans with you, your cum thoroughly overflowing inside her, oozing out of her pussy and staining her other hole below—the last time she had been fucked and creamed and gaped to this extent was well, with you. The thought makes her hump up into you, legs still around your hips, and you spurt just that little bit more, pushing the cum deeper into her.
"Oh fuck Yeonwoo..." She tilts your head towards her, kissing you passionately, face pink with satisfaction.
"I never want to go without this ever again."
Tumblr media
"Did I not stretch you enough yesterday?" you joke at Yeonwoo holding a yoga pose.
"This is a different kind of stretch! But if you want, I'm sure I could stretch some other muscles too?" A wink and a lick of her lips is all she needs to get you to drop to your knees, and Yeonwoo soon has you in her mouth, letting you push as deep into her throat as you can, all while holding her pose. But both of you can only last so long before you're peeling the yoga pants off her, ruining her mat with her squirt and your cum.
Yeonwoo got no work done over that weekend as she made you stay over, and it seemed like every waking hour was making up for a night the two of you missed. Every wink, every lipbite, every wiggle of her hips was an invitation, and Yeonwoo's apartment quickly became a clothing-optional zone. She would wear nothing but a t-shirt, snuggling up with you and have your arms around her, but her naughty hand would inevitably drift between your legs, and the movie is quickly forgotten in favor of Yeonwoo riding your brains out.
"Ugh we need to eat," you mumble, your stomach growling.
"Yeah it's late, I have some leftovers in the fridge, let me go get it." At the sight of Yeonwoo's cheeks walking away from you you grow hungry for something else. You surprise Yeonwoo, hugging her from behind in the kitchen.
"I just ordered some food, don't bother with the leftovers."
"I have plenty for the two of us though!"
"I'd rather eat something else, and the food's coming in fifteen minutes." Yeonwoo braces herself on the kitchen counter as you press your face into her ass, letting your tongue slide between her lips. When you are done with her she's slumped over the counter, and you're wiping her juices from your face.
"Come on, time for dinner."
"In a— Ah! Minute..." Yeonwoo gasps, basking in her peak. She reminds herself to put the leftovers back in the fridge, but that can wait.
Just as soon as she can stand again.
The weekend finally ends with the two of you cuddling under the covers, a streak of white oozing onto her creamy thighs.
"Ah I can't believe it's Monday tomorrow."
"Do you have to go in? Maybe you could work from home and work hard. And then play hard, hmm?" You squeeze a breast, reminding her just what type of "play" the two of you could get up to.
"I'd love to, but I have meetings to be present for."
"Ugh, employment." You kiss her forehead before wriggling out from the sheets. "I'll see you soon then."
"You're leaving? You can stay! I-If you want to." She looked utterly angelic, buried within the sheets, and you wanted nothing more than to join her back beneath them, but you knew better, knew that there'd be devilish happenings if you let yourself stay.
"I do. But I would think that the mighty Miss Lee can't show up late tomorrow, walking all funny like and unable to even sit in her chair properly."
"I'll just say I had a fall!"
"You think that school of piranhas you manage would believe that?"
"But it's the truth! I've fallen for you..." Even Yeonwoo blushes at her own corny joke, and you have to hug her embarrassment away.
"Tch, I've fallen too then. All the way to the unemployment line."
"Yah don't say that, you'll find something for sure! But... Thank you for coming back to me."
"Thank you for taking me back. Don't worry about me from now on." You kiss her again.
"Just worry about us."
A/N: Finally back, just haven't felt like writing and was agonizing around finishing this story. I have other ideas in mind, so hopefully I can get around to those faster, but I just wanted to finish this one first as a sequel to Confidence Booster. Thanks for reading!
443 notes · View notes
golden-cherry · 2 months
Text
deal - cl16 (34/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: The boat that's actually a yacht - and it's just the two of you.
Warnings: fluff, minimal angst, Google translated French, no knowledge of boats
Word Count: 3.9k
series masterlist
previous part
A/N: we're back bitches!!! love you. feedback is appreciated!
Tumblr media
"What do we need?" you ask, taking a sip of your coffee. "Apart from Kika's spontaneous photos, I've only taken pictures of inanimate objects so far. And the one of you."
Charles shrugs his shoulders. "When Joris and I take photos together, we'll pack a bag of different clothes." When you raise an eyebrow in confusion, Charles purses his lips. "We always take several photos, for several posts. If we don't have time to take new pictures, we always have some in stock that we can use without them looking like old pictures."
"Okay." You put your mug down on the work surface in front of you. "Anything else?"
Your roommate grins. "Your camera."
"Haha." You toss it off with a kitchen towel. "I mean, do you need anything else in the way of props or anything?"
He shakes his head. "Actually, no. Everything you could possibly need for a photo shoot is already on the boat." He nods towards the hallway. "You just need long clothes in case it gets colder later."
You nod. "All right. Then you pack a bag with the things you need and I'll pack one with clothes I can wear if it gets cold later." You walk around the kitchen island towards the hallway. 
"And don't forget your camera." You can even hear the smirk, which is why you give him the middle finger without turning around. 
As you stand in your room, you don't really know what to pack. 
Although it's supposed to be twenty degrees outside - which sounds totally surreal for a day before Christmas - your weather app tells you that it's going to be almost three degrees at night. 
"How long are we staying on the boat?" you shout loudly so that Charles can hear you. You throw a large bag on the bed. 
"No idea," says Charles calmly. When you turn around, he's standing in the doorway. "You and I can leave after the pictures. Or stay there all day. Or the night." He shrugs his shoulders. "There's no time when the boat has to be back in port."
You sigh. "I'm afraid that doesn't help me much." You point to the bag on the bed. "I can't pack my entire closet, Charles. Tell me what to pack." You look at him pleadingly. 
"All right." He enters your bedroom and looks around before reaching for some clothes lying on the floor. "Here, the sweatpants are good. If you want to lie out on the sun bed in the evening, you'll need these." He tosses them to you. You catch them and fold them up to stow them neatly in your bag. "Do you have comfy socks or something?" 
"Ehm, yeah," you say, pulling some out of the pile of clothes Kika left there and tucking them into the side pocket of the bag.
Charles kneels down on the floor and sifts through the pile at your feet. "You'll definitely need a thick sweater. It's going to be pretty windy when we're out at sea." He rummages around in your clothes until he fishes out a black sweater and holds it out to you. "Tada."
The first thing you notice about the sweater is that it's not yours. The black hoodie is too big to be yours. The second thing you notice about it is that it's the sweater Charles gave you the night you went to your favorite place. 
The night Charles showed you his talent on the piano. The night you almost kissed. It feels like it was a lifetime ago. 
You can't tell Charles that you don't want to wear the sweater, even though it's incredibly comfortable. It certainly still smells like Charles, although perhaps not as strongly - after all, he hasn't worn it for days. You don't want to be wrapped up in his scent and be at risk of getting weak. The distance that needs to exist between you is the right thing to do. 
Charles looks at you questioningly from the floor and you realize you've already hesitated too long.
"That - that's not my sweater," you simply say. 
Your friend examines the sweater in his hand. "Really?" he asks, confused, smelling the collar. "But it smells like you."
You shake your head. "That's yours. You - uh - you lent it to me when we went to petits mondes," you explain as he folds the fabric and puts it to one side. 
"Oh. Right." He looks at the sweater before his gaze lands on you again. "You can keep it if you want."
You wave it off. "It's all right. Thanks for letting me borrow it. But it's yours after all, so..." You step nervously from one foot to the other. 
Charles watches you for a moment and then turns away. "All right, then. How about this one then?" He pulls another sweater out of the pile of laundry. This time it's actually yours. It's white, with red stripes on it and the collar reaches up to your chin. You definitely won't catch a cold in this. 
"It's good," you reply with a smile and catch it as he throws it to you. You fold it before putting it in your pocket as well. "What about your clothes? Do you want them in the bag too?" you ask him, hoping that he will take his clothes separately and not infect your clothes with his smell. 
Charles gets up from the floor. "I'll pack my own bag. You still have to pack your camera," he smiles, patting non-existent dust off his pants. "About the trip to the port..." he begins, rubbing the back of his neck. 
You grab your camera bag and stow it next to your clothes in your bag. Hopefully the spare battery is charged. "Hmm?"
"I suggest we take your car and I'll drop you off. Then you won't have to walk far to get to the boat," he explains. "I'll park your car in a side street and then join you. Then we won't be seen together."
You look at him, confused. "Can people just get on your boat like that? Aren't you afraid that some crazy fans will suddenly come out of - I don't know - your cabin?"
Charles has to smile. "Someone will be waiting for you there. They'll let you on the boat."
Embarrassed, you curl your lips into a thin line. Of course there's someone at the docks to make sure no one sneaks onto strangers' boats. "Okay."
You stand opposite each other, undecided, until Charles takes the first step. "I'll just pack my bag and then we can go." Smiling, he disappears from your bedroom. 
While Charles stuffs everything he can find into a bag, you gather some snacks in the kitchen to take with you on the boat. Charles has hinted that there would be a cook on site, but you might not be there for too long, so a proper meal wouldn't be worth it. 
As you prepare some sandwiches and put them in a bag, Charles appears behind you. "Are you ready?" he asks, leaning on the kitchen island. 
"Yep," you reply and place a few small bottles of water next to the sandwiches. When you look at Charles, he grins. "What is it?"
"Nothing." His grin almost reaches his ears. "There's water on the boat too, you know."
You roll your eyes. "I've never been on a boat before." 
Charles raises his eyebrows briefly before shrugging his shoulders. "It's not as special as you make it out to be."
You squint your eyes a little. "Only rich people say that."
He tilts his head. "Do you want to go on the boat or not?"
"Like I said," you start the sentence and grab the snacks, "only if I can steer it once."
Charles reaches for the keys to your Renault. "Don't you dare crash it," he warns you as you walk towards the elevator. He presses the button and a short time later the doors open. "That boat was expensive."
"Don't worry," you try to reassure him. "I'll just hold the wheel firmly and steer straight ahead." You wink at him and step into the elevator. 
Charles has to smile and follows you. "I think I'll only let you take the wheel on the open sea. There's much less risk of you ramming other boats."
"You have a lot of faith in me," you say with mock hurt and put your hand on your chest. 
"I do," he says seriously. "I'd trust you with my life."
-
You walk uncertainly around the various walkways. 
Before you got out of the car, Charles said there would be a man standing in front of his boat to help you find it. You would also have to say a password so that you would be granted access to Charles' boat. 
"For security," he explained. "We don't want everyone to get on the boat."
With your two bags on your shoulders, you walk past a few boats that certainly cost more than you'll ever earn. But nowhere is there a man to signal that you are in the right place. 
There are a few people at the harbor, but no one pays you any attention. They are chatting with friends, frolicking on boats and enjoying the warmth of the sun one last time before the year is over and winter finally sets in. You walk past them with your head down. 
Cautiously and indecisively, you walk on and the boats become yachts on which great parties are sure to take place in summer. They are big and nice and you wonder whether you should google one of the types to find out what price range the yachts of the rich and famous are in. 
You are torn from your thoughts by a man. "Madame? Vous cherchez quelque chose?" are you looking for something? 
Somewhat taken by surprise, you stop. You are standing in front of a large, white yacht. With its two floors, it towers above its neighbors by quite a bit. 
"Uhm," you look at the man uncertainly. "Je cherche le bateau d'un ami," you explain. I'm looking for my friends boat. 
The man raises an eyebrow as if he's wondering what you're doing here. Your uncertainty and searching eyes probably made you stand out immediately. You don't fit in here, that's for sure. 
When the man doesn't answer, you try the password Charles told you. "Chicken?" you ask uncertainly, but when the man smiles at you and reaches for your pockets, you exhale with relief. 
You've found the boat. Thank goodness. 
The man helps you onto the yacht and leads you past the sun bed into the interior, which is much bigger than you imagined, and places your bags on a couch. A couch. On a boat. How crazy. 
"Voulez-vous boire quelque chose?" would you like something to drink? He smiles kindly at you. 
"Non, merci," you thank him and look around. On the floor, next to a couch and a small bar, is the steering wheel, which you hope you'll be able to take the plunge on later. To the right, a staircase leads down to the lower floor, where there are not just one, but three bedrooms, a bathroom and a kitchen. 
Astonished, you run your fingers over one of the large beds. The fabric is soft and pleasant against your skin and you can almost imagine how comfortable the bed would be if you snuggled up there after a day in the sun. 
"I was worried for a moment that you wouldn't find my boat." 
As you turn around, Charles is standing at the foot of the stairs, watching you. Without further ado, you sit down on the bed behind you. "I was looking for a boat too. Not a castle on the water."
He has to grin. "The boat is still relatively small compared to the ones that dock here in the harbor in summer."
You raise an eyebrow. "Really?"
He takes a step towards you. "Really. I'm the outsider with my little boat. There's nothing under five stories." He bites the inside of his cheek. "How do you like my boat?"
You nod. "Your yacht is really nice." You grin at him and take a look at the bed you're on. "But why do you need so much space at sea?"
He shrugs his shoulders. "I usually spend the summer break here with my family. Not all of the time, of course, but when we go out on it, it's quite a few days. And I'll be damned if I'm going to share a bed with Arthur."
You try to suppress your grin, but unfortunately you don't succeed. "Why? Does he kick while he sleeps?"
"No," says Charles, leaning against the bed at a little distance from you. "But he used to steal the blanket in the past and then I had to freeze all night."
You raise an eyebrow. "Couldn't you have just fought for it?"
"Believe me when I tell you I tried several times," he rubs the back of his neck with his hand. "He practically wraps himself up like a burrito and when that happens, you've lost."
"Then I know who I'd never share a bed with," you joke, but Charles looks a little more serious.
"I hope so." Before the mood can turn negative, he smiles at you. "Are you ready? Shall we go out?"
You look at him excitedly. "Oh yes." You jump off the bed and smooth out the creases you've left in the comforter. "How long will it take us to get outside?"
"Not long at all. I think twenty minutes and that's it," he explains, turning to head up the stairs.
When you reach the top, Charles gets behind the wheel. You look at him, confused. "Are you driving the yacht?"
"Yep."
"All the time?"
"Yep." He grins at you. "Except for the time you're at the wheel, of course."
You want to jump up and down with excitement. "And where's the man who let me on the boat?"
Charles presses a few buttons and the display in front of him comes to life. "Thomas? He's left the boat."
"Are we all alone?" you ask uncertainly and sit down on the couch. "I thought you still had a chef on board?"
He shrugs his shoulders. "You brought some snacks with you. Thomas also packed some food in the fridge in case you and I want to cook something later."
You purse your lips. You would spend the whole day on the water with Charles. Alone. And you would take pictures of him, which he would post on his official Instagram profile. And you would cook in the small kitchen in the basement. The distance you want to maintain between you seems to be shrinking somehow. 
"You're not going out on the boat with me to kill me and get rid of me discreetly, are you?" you ask him jokingly. 
"Believe me. If I wanted to kill you, I could have done it on our first day," he grins and puts his hands on the steering wheel. "Are you ready?" Charles asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. His green eyes sparkle in the sunlight and small dimples form in his cheeks as he looks at you. 
Gorgeous. 
You smile back. "I'm ready, captain."
He winks at you. "Let's go then."
Concentrating, Charles steers his yacht out of the harbor between the other boats. The rocking is surprisingly pleasant and not as bad as you expected, so you lie down on the couch and wait until you arrive at your destination. Charles remains silent for a while, so you don't say anything either, worried about disturbing his concentration, but while he steers the boat, you start working on your camera settings and think about which one would be best for your shoot. 
After twenty minutes, the yacht comes to a halt and Charles turns to you. "Alright."
Excitedly, you get up from the couch and follow him outside to the sun bed you had your eye on when you boarded. As you look around, you are amazed. You can still see the land in the distance, but you are so far out that it almost merges with the horizon. Although there is a sea breeze blowing around you, the sun is so bright that you don't freeze. It's reflected on the clear water and you want to put on a bikini and jump in. 
Charles seems to notice your gaze. "Next summer, I'll take you with me and then you can swim and sunbathe here until you get sunburnt."
You smile at him. "I'll gladly take you up on that offer." You glance back inside. "Do you need to get changed or are we going to start straight away?"
Charles snaps his fingers once before pulling his shirt over his head and disappearing towards the interior. You try not to stare after him and you ignore how wide his back is and how his muscles move under his skin as he puts his shirt down on the couch. He opens his bag and pulls out a white shirt. When he turns back to you, you turn away quickly, hoping he hasn't noticed you watching him. 
"Ready when you are."
Charles changes clothes more often than you can imagine. He has different outfits ready for every pose and every location on his yacht, which he slips into in order to take the best possible picture. In between, you take a sandwich break on the sun bed and enjoy the warm sun on your skin before getting back to work. 
It doesnt take long for you to figure that Charles is the perfect man for the job. He's so easy to work with, even though he jokes most of the time and you surely have more photos of him looking funny than serious. But you enjoy it the way it is. Happy, free, without a care in the world.
When you have finished and Charles is happy with the photos you took, he suggests going home in the evening. You nod and sit down on the couch. 
When he looks at you expectantly, you raise an eyebrow in confusion. "What is it?"
"I thought you wanted to steer the boat." In his hand, he holds a bandana that he ties around his head to control his hair, which is messy from the constant changing of clothes.
You widen your eyes. "I thought you were messing with me."
He furrows his eyebrows. "Why would I do that? There's nothing and no one here that you can put at risk. And you won't be steering for long." He leans against the seat in front of the wheel. "If you want, the seat is yours."
Excited, you get up from the couch and get behind the wheel. Charles explains everything to you and you try to concentrate on his words as best you can, but he is so close to you that his scent of perfume, a little sweat and him envelops you. 
With his help, the boat sets off and you jump up and down on the seat with joy. Your hair is blowing around your head and it's so loud that you almost scream. "Oh my God! How fucking awesome is that?" You don't even notice that you've let go of the steering wheel.
"Hands on the wheel, you crazy woman!" laughs Charles, holding the wheel tightly. As you look at him, you see a spark of the Charles you know. The Charles that existed before yesterday. 
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" you apologize and put your hands back on the wheel. "Oh my God! Can you take a picture of me?" 
Charles takes two steps back and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. "Smile, please."
You grin so wide it almost hurts, but you can't stop. It seems so unbelievable that you are on a yacht and even get to steer it. 
You smile at Charles, tears stinging your eyes. A few days ago, you were almost homeless, all alone and on your own. There aren't enough words in the world to describe how grateful you are for the Monegasque who took you in. Who took you into his heart without hesitation. Who was there for you without batting an eyelid.
Fuck, you love him. And nothing in the world will ever change that.
"Thank you."
He lowers his cell phone. "For what?"
A tear escapes your eye and rolls down your cheek. "For everything." 
Charles takes a step towards you and you would love to take him in your arms and never let him go again. But he stops an arm's length away from you and smiles at you. "I would do anything for you."
You feel the blood rush to your cheeks, so you avert your gaze and look ahead again. Monaco is getting closer, but you would prefer to stay here. On the yacht and on the sea. You don't want to go back to reality yet - not if you can be here with Charles. The way it was before.
"I don't want to go back yet," he voices your thoughts and puts a hand on the wheel. When you look at him, he smiles a little brokenly. "I don't want to go back yet because I'm afraid that things won't be the same between you and me. That I'll lose you. And I don't want that." 
His words hit you so hard that you can't breathe. You would love to take him in your arms and kiss him and reassure him that you belong to him like the sand belongs to the sea, but that's not the way Charles means it. 
But you don't care how Charles means it. You belong to him - no matter which way.
"Then let's not go back," you suggest. "We - we can stay here and we won't go back until tomorrow."
Charles' smile looks forced. "And then?"
"Then we'll go home." You bite the inside of your cheek and purse your lips. "To our home."
Charles exhales in relief, as if the elephant that had been standing on his chest had finally gotten off of him. As if he had been underwater for too long and could now take his first breath. He would love to stay here forever, with you, far away from the reality of all the pressure he is under. 
As you smile at him, the pressure seems to fall off him. As if he has finally reached his destination, wherever that may be. Like he's home. 
Fuck, he'd do anything for you if you just asked him to.
He motions for you to let him into the seat, and as you swap places, he brings the yacht to a halt. As the engine shuts down, he slides off the seat and turns to face you. 
"Have you ever gotten drunk on a boat before?"
645 notes · View notes