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ihavemanyhusbands · 2 years ago

Text

Honey Bun (18+ Series)

Aaron Hotchner x Stripper!Reader

Part 5 // MINORS DNI

WC: 3.0k words

Song Inspo: Possibly Maybe - Björk

Series Warnings: Eventual smut, bit of an age gap (placing reader at around 25-26), cursing, alcohol consumption, formalized sex work (Stripper/Pole Dancer), occasional angst, drama. In this chapter specifically -- light angst, flufffff, SMUT OBVIOUSLY, smoking one (1) cigarette (sorry about that but its DRAMATIC and therefore NECESSARY), semi-public sex (?), lap dance, dirty talking, Hotch being submissive and breedable tbh, aaaand that's all I can think of rn, but lmk if I missed anything!

A/N: Lmaooooo sorry that the plot just kinda flew out the window on this one a little bit, I just wanted to write something dirttyyyyyy tee hee hopefully all is good here but lmk if it needs other warnings or anything!

Tags: @montyfandomlove, @cassiemartzz, @hausofwhores, @pedrohoe04, @sebastiansstanswhore, @comfortzonequeen,

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“Looks like lover boy is here,” Josephine noted, wiping down a glass to keep herself busy. “Doesn’t seem like he had a great day.”

You glanced up to see Aaron approaching the bar. It’d been a few days since Gia’s birthday, in which you hadn’t spoken much to him. You were gathering the courage to talk to him about things, but it was taking more time than you anticipated.

And now, it seemed time was up.

“It’s been tense to say the least,” you murmured. “Mind if I take fifteen?”

“Go ahead,” she said. “Let me know if you need anything.”

You nodded appreciatively, patting her arm before making your way to Aaron.

“Hi,” you said, smiling meekly. “It’s my smoke break. Wanna join me outside?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

“Only sometimes. Good excuse to step outside when things get to be … too much, I suppose,” you shrugged. “Plus, it’s a little more private for us to talk, don’t you think?”

He nodded, pursing his lips. “Yeah, you’re right. Lead the way.”

He stood up and followed as you led him out the back door. The cacophony of music and rowdy patrons faded into the background as the two of you stepped out into the alleway. The night air was cool but bearable, still in the late throes of spring.

You covered the flame as you lit the cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke.

“Can I have a drag?” He asked, and you offered it to him.

You watched his profile as he exhaled smoke too, looking off into the middle-distance as he thought.

“I wanted to—” you started to say at the same time he said. “I thought—”

The two of you stopped, staring at each other for a moment.

“Oh, go ahead,” you prompted as he handed the cigarette back to you.

“No, no. You can go,” he insisted.

“Um… well I wanted to say that I’m sorry that things have been kind of weird lately,” you began. “It all came as a bit of a shock, as I’m sure you felt. But uh, I think I owe you some honesty, so I’ll just come clean.”

You took another long drag, bracing yourself to just rip the band aid off.

“Ever heard of the Crimson Lounge?” You said. “I dance there on the weekends. I’m a stripper, that’s my mysterious other job.”

You ashed the cigarette, gathering your thoughts for a second before barreling on.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I guess… it was stupid not to, but I’m sure you understand why I didn’t. But you deserved to know.” You looked up at him, finally meeting his dark eyes. “Especially because it’s not going to change.”

He extended his hand towards you once more to get the cigarette. He ashed it, taking a long drag himself, his gaze not leaving yours.

“What sort of reaction were you expecting from me?” He asked curiously.

You shrugged, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t know… I guess disappointment? A loss of respect? Or something worse.”

He seemed genuinely surprised at this. He tossed the finished cigarette on the ground and stepped on it to put it out.

“Hey, look at me,” he said, gently taking your chin and tilting your face towards his. “I don’t feel that way at all.”

You searched his face for any hidden emotion that might betray his words. But the only thing you found was earnestness, as well as determination.

Still, you asked, “Really?”

“Yes, of course,” he assured you, cupping your face in his hands. “Trust me, that’s not a problem to me. Sure, it surprised me, but that doesn’t mean I see it as a bad thing.”

“You’re a rare exception to what seems to be the norm…” you said, smiling wryly.

“I like you for who you are, Honey. I see you.” His thumbs brushed over your cheekbones. “I know we’ve only been on a few dates, but it’s been such a pleasure getting to know you. I’d like to continue… If that’s okay with you. I want to know everything.”

You nodded, your eyes stinging as tears pooled in your vision. “Well, there’s one more thing I should also clarify. About Derek.”

He stiffened a little, swallowing hard. He said nothing, willing to just listen.

“He met Gia and me at the Crimson. He’s been a regular for some time,” you said. “He’s, uh, seen a lot of me, on and off the stage. But we’re just friends and nothing more. He’s with Gia, and they really like each other.”

He nodded, jaw clenched. He took a few breaths, just looking at you, and that seemed to help ease whatever conflicting emotions he was feeling.

“But… he was always respectful?” He managed to ask.

“Yeah. He’s a good guy,” you smiled reassuringly. “I’m sorry if this just complicates things.”

“Honey, please,” he shook his head. “Who the hell am I to judge you for anything you do? It’s in the past, as you said. As long as he was decent, that’s all I care about.”

“Well, I think you’re more than decent.” Your eyes flicked down to his lips. “And I really want to kiss you for it.”

He chuckled, leaning down and kissing you sweetly. Your heart continued to race, but now for entirely different reasons. You were kind of in disbelief that it had all gone so well, still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

But his thumbs traced your cheekbones again, wiping away the happy tears you hadn’t realized you were shedding. It was a reassurance that you needed, and you were grateful he gave it so freely.

When he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours.

“So, you forgive me?” You murmured.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” he said. “You did nothing wrong. But I am sorry that things got so strange last time we saw each other. I hope I didn’t react… harshly. I was just surprised.”

You waved him off, nodding in understanding and pulling back further to look at him.

“There’ll be another chance for a better first impression with my sister and Gia, don’t worry about them,” you assured. “And you know… If you’re comfortable, maybe you should visit me at the Crimson some time. See what it’s like. I could even arrange for us to have the VIP room for an hour, so we’re out of the main floor.”

He smirked a little. “Does that mean I’d get VIP treatment, too?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, smacking his arm. “Yes, only because you’ve been so good… But you’ve turned me into a real sap, you know that?”

He planted an affectionate kiss on your lips. “That was the goal.”

————————

“Honey, you’ve been requested for a private. An hour and a half, already paid for. He’s at table seven, you can escort him upstairs.”

You nodded, making your way over. It hadn’t been a very busy night, so you decided to call it right after this. An hour and a half was kind of pushing it, but at least it was early enough that you could still enjoy some downtime at home and potentially see if Aaron was free for another sleepover.

You’d plastered on your most charming smile, but it faltered for a surprised moment when you saw the man in question — Aaron, sitting by himself at the table, swirling his scotch around the glass lazily.

It was as if you’d summoned him somehow. For a moment, as your gazes connected, it didn’t seem real.

He hadn’t mentioned anything about coming in, but it clicked that he wanted to surprise you. It was a bold move, but you couldn’t help but be impressed. He smirked at you and your smile returned, genuine this time.

Mostly, he seemed at ease, but before you’d arrived, he’d kept his eyes down. You caught sight of a few girls glancing in his direction, but he was unaware of the attention he was getting. All of his focus was on you.

“Well, well,” you said. “What do we have here?”

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Honey,” he said, slightly raising his eyebrows. “But nothing compares to the real thing.”

You caught onto his game immediately, stifling a shudder as a tingle ran down your spine. Who would have thought he was into this sort of thing?

You’d figured he might be kind of vanilla, but you just kept being pleasantly surprised by him. You bit your lower lip, eyes roaming over him appreciatively. He returned the gesture, taking his time to drink you in, his nostrils flaring as he exhaled slowly.

“What’s your name, handsome?”

He took a sip of his scotch. “Whatever you want it to be.”

“Hmmm, well I’ve always liked the name Aaron,” you said, offering him your hand. “Come with me, I’ll take you somewhere quieter where we can get to know each other.”

He took your hand, not letting go as you led him towards the stairs. You went up the steps in front of him, giving him a lovely view of your ass in a g-string. It took all of his willpower not to touch you; To let his broad hands roam over the expanse of your soft skin.

There would surely be enough time for that later.

Once in the VIP room, you had him sit down while you picked the music. It softly wafted out of the speakers, the slow rhythm so irresistible that you began to sway your hips to it.

Pink and blue lights bathed you in their romantic, dream-like hues. His dark eyes tracked your movements, sinuous and almost serpentine. He was utterly entranced, and he had to adjust himself in his seat.

“Like what you see?” You asked, grinning teasingly.

“You’re breathtaking,” he rasped, nodding. “So beautiful.”

You loved feeling the ardent intensity of his gaze — like a caress, making heat slowly course through you. You were absorbed by each other; Nothing outside of this room – of this very moment – existed.

You teased him further by toying with the straps of your micro bikini top, and he clenched his jaw, a low grunt stuck in his throat.

“Come closer,” he said, his voice a little hoarse. He cleared his throat before adding, “Please.”

You prowled towards him on all fours, and when he tried to reach for you, you grabbed his wrists and pinned them down at his sides.

You tsked, tilting your head to one side. “Hmm, think you can be good for me and keep your hands off?”

He nodded all too eagerly, making you smirk. You came up between his legs, your torso barely brushing his. Your lips were mere inches from his, too, but before he could be further tempted, you pulled back and turned around.

His fingers twitched at his sides as you sat on his lap, your back against his chest. Though you couldn’t hold down his hands at this angle, he was resolved to behave. You began to gyrate your hips ever so slowly, already feeling his prominent bulge pressing against your ass.

This time, you finally undid the straps of your top, letting it slide off of you. You heard his sharp intake of breath right next to your ear as you leaned back so he could get a better view of your front.

“You enjoy torturing me,” he gritted out. “I can see it in your eyes.”

“You just look so good when you’re all worked up like this,” you purred.

Then, to torture him even further, you grabbed his hands, bringing them to where your g-string hugged your hips.

“Hook your fingers here,” you instructed, and he immediately obeyed.

You stood and bent forward, his thumbs helping pull your panties down. At this new angle, he had an up close and personal view of your newly exposed cunt, and he couldn’t help but let out a pitiful whimper.

You chuckled. “You all good there?”

Instead of responding, he slid down to his knees, pulling your underwear off the rest of the way. You stepped out of them and felt as his hands came back towards your hips, holding on firmly.

All of his self restraint had seemingly shattered, and like a starving man, he started kissing at your thighs. You indulged him for a moment, biting back a soft moan as you felt his lips on your inner thigh.

But then, surprisingly, you felt him nip and suck at the sensitive skin, sure to leave a mark.

“Hey, now!” You chastised, turning around and pushing him back a little. “Naughty, naughty, trying to bite more than you can chew. Didn’t I say hands off?”

“I wasn’t using my hands, technically,” he countered, smirking slightly. “But I’ll do better.”

“I’m sure you will.” You crossed your arms. “And you can start by making it up to me.”

“Yes, anything.”

You looked him over, still on his knees, eyes wide and eager. He truly looked like he would do anything for you at that moment.

“Worship me,” you said finally. “If you want to put your mouth on me, it has to be over every square inch.”

He licked his lips and leaned forward a little, unable to resist you. “That I can do, gladly.”

He dove into his task diligently, kissing his way up. Your fingers buried in his hair, keeping him close. He took his time, but when he reached the apex of your thighs once more, he looked up at you as if asking for permission.

But as much as you wanted to say yes, you didn’t want this part to end quite yet.

You tugged his head back lightly. “Keep going, you’ll get your prize after.”

He grunted, but acquiesced, licking up to your navel. You suppressed a shudder, already clenching around nothing. The build up was driving you near feral, but such desperate want was an addictive feeling.

You almost caved in once more when he reached your breasts. His tongue circled one of your nipples, his teeth subsequently grazing the hardened peak. He repeated his motions with your other breast, but in a teasing retort, he moved onto your sternum before you could really bask in the pleasure.

And once he reached your throat, you couldn’t take it any longer. You grabbed his chin as you brought his lips to yours, eliciting a low moan from him as your tongue tangled with his.

“You want your prize?” You asked between kisses, nipping at his lower lip when he nodded. “How do you want it, Aaron?”

“Fuck me,” he said without hesitation. “Use me to give yourself pleasure. I just want to make you feel good.”

His words had you instantly dripping and you squeezed your thighs together to try and ease some of your ache. You felt like your knees might buckle at any moment, and you crushed your lips against his ravenously.

“Sit back down for me,” you urged.

He did so, making you bend down so as not to break contact with him. But you quickly pulled away to crouch in front of him, reaching for his belt.

“May I?”

“Yes. Whatever you want, I’m all yours,” he said, shifting forward to help you undo his belt and pants.

You hummed as you freed him from his underwear, the tip of his cock glistening with precum. You gingerly ran the tips of your fingers over the prominent vein on his shaft, making him twitch.

“Someone’s excited,” you noted, smiling slyly. “Remember, hands off. I’m in control here. My turf, my rules.”

He nodded once more, swallowing hard. You let a string of saliva fall onto his cock and straightened back up, spreading it with your fingers.

“Scoot over to the edge.”

You went on your hands and knees in front of him, sliding backwards until your hips were bracketed between his knees. You wiggled them a little enticingly, grinning at him over your shoulder.

“Be a dear and help me put it in, will you?”

Your eyes fluttered shut as he slicked the head of his cock through your folds, coating it with your arousal. He pushed in slowly, stretching you deliciously, and both of you exhaled sharply as he bottomed out.

You started moving at a slow, even pace, working the entirety of his length until you adjusted to it. You soon picked up speed, unable to keep yourself from moaning wantonly.

“Fuck, Honey…” he groaned. “Does that feel good?”

“So good,” you panted. “So fucking good.”

“Don’t stop,” he pleaded. “Please, cum all over my cock.”

Though he did not use his hands, his hips snapped up to meet yours, making his thrusts harder. He repeatedly hit a spot deep inside you that had you clawing at the floor, abdominal muscles tightening.

“Aaron, please, I-” the rest of the sentence died in your throat as pleasure seized you in its vice-like grip.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and you heard him moan out your name as his own orgasm washed over him. He spilled inside of you, thrusting shallowly as both of you rode out your ecstasy.

You were both dazed for a few more seconds, breathing heavily, still lost in one another. His hands caressed your hips affectionately — reverently, even.

As he pulled out of you, he helped you up and hauled you onto his lap. His arms encircled you, and you wiped his hair away from his sweaty forehead.

“Well, safe to say we know each other pretty well now,” you chuckled breathily.

“You did guess my name from the get go,” he said, also chuckling.

He kissed you tenderly, pressing you tighter against him, like he just couldn’t get close enough. It made you melt, how he always made sure to show you how much he cared.

“I kind of want to say I’m sorry for surprising you, but…” he started as he pulled away.

“Don’t,” you said, stroking his face. “I’m not sorry.”

“I’m not either,” he said, and you smiled at each other. “This was one of the most incredible nights of my life.”

“Hmm, something tells me you’re gonna become one of my regulars, Aaron.”

He kissed the tip of your nose. “I’ll be your favorite one.”

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#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x stripper!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner series #honey bun #series #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner smut #minors dni #criminal minds

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moodymelanist · 2 years ago

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Hey! If you’re still taking ideas for touch starved nesta could you do cassian kissing her scars ?

hey! I sure can 💙 read part one here! I'll also be combining it with this prompt ⤵

TW: discussion of past abuse

Cassian seemed more than content to let Nesta finish cleaning up her kitchen, but she knew whatever resolution they'd come to at the end of their discussion would only be short-lived. He always liked to tell her he was just as fucked up as she was about certain things, but as much as that was true, he was so much more open about his feelings than she was. She knew it would only be a matter of time until they had a heart-to-heart about how jumpy she was even though she wanted his touch more than anything.

The rest of the night passed nicely enough, though. Once the kitchen was clean, they migrated to the couch, Nesta cracking open one of the books she'd borrowed from the library while Cassian caught up on grading some of his students' papers. She'd cautiously shoved her always-cold feet under his thigh, and the little smile he'd given her in response had been enough to warm her all the way through as she devoured chapter after chapter.

Eventually, though, all good things had to come to an end. Nesta started yawning, and Cassian realized it was late enough that he should go back to his place.

"Let me know when you get home," Nesta said as she walked him to the elevator.

"I will," Cassian replied. He looked at her for permission before carefully gathering her into his arms, leaning down to press a gentle series of kisses against her forehead, eyelids, and cheeks before capturing her mouth. "Good night, sweetheart. I love you."

"I love you too," she told him, unable to help but smile back at the happy expression on his face.

"Doesn't mean we don't have to have a real conversation about earlier, though," he responded apologetically.

She just sighed, totally unsurprised. She knew her boyfriend far too well to be anything but. "I know."

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to," he said, his hazel eyes shining with concern. "I just... I want to make sure you feel safe. And that you're getting loved the way you need to. Okay?"

"Okay," she mumbled. She rose up onto her toes to steal another soft kiss, and the elevator dinged just as she returned back to her usual height. "Drive safe."

Cassian promised that he would before disappearing into the elevator. Nesta sighed and took a deep breath before walking back to her apartment, already missing his warmth as she got ready for bed and wrapped her thick comforter around her. Once she had confirmation he was home safe, she plugged her phone into the charger and delved right into thinking about what had happened today.

She knew he meant well, and that it was a good thing he cared so much about wanting to make sure she felt safe. She just wished she didn't have to talk about the ugliest parts of herself, that she didn't have to get into all the ways her mother and her grandmother and her ex-boyfriend had terrified her into submission. She knew Cassian would never do the kinds of things any of them had to her, but it was hard work convincing her body of the same thing.

Nesta's therapist would probably have a lot to say about this, but she wasn't here. This was on Nesta to figure out right now, and she knew she could do it. She just... needed a second to get her brain to chill the fuck out.

Probably more than a second, really. But that was why she and Cassian worked so well together -- he knew that, and he'd given her the space to process it on her own. She knew he wouldn't spring it on her the next time they saw each other, either, so she really could take all the time she wanted.

As she drifted off to sleep, she knew she couldn't run from this forever. He deserved more than that, and so did she.

✷✷✷✷✷

Nesta didn't see Cassian for a little bit after that day. Their work schedules were pretty hectic, what with Cassian dealing with parent-teacher conferences and Nesta powering through a deadline, so by the time they got together again, it had been a little over a week.

"I missed you," Nesta said the moment Cassian was back in her apartment. They'd of course texted and called and been in near-constant communication that entire time, but it was different when she could see him in the flesh.

"I missed you too, Nes," Cassian replied, smiling. He opened his arms for a hug and after a few seconds of hesitation, she folded into them, breathing through the fear of can't escape nowhere to go run run run until her body remembered his arms meant only good things. "You wanna watch a movie?"

She knew he was giving her an out, and she loved him so much for it that her heart felt like it was going to squeeze right out of her chest. "Well... yes. But I think we should talk first."

"We don't have to talk right away if you don't want to," he responded. He kicked off his shoes and followed her over to her couch anyway, reaching for her favorite blanket and carefully spreading it over both of them the way he knew she liked. "I'm serious."

"I know," she told him, taking a deep breath, "but I want to."

Well, she didn't quite want to as much as she knew it was an important thing for her to do. He thankfully seemed to recognize that and motioned for her to go ahead, more than ready to wait until she'd gathered herself enough to speak.

"You know I didn't the best relationship with my mom," Nesta began, her voice feeling a little stuck in her throat. "She never... she never hit me or anything, but she was always so cold with me. Both of my parents were, really. My grandmother was the one who didn't see a problem with hitting me."

Cassian reached for Nesta's hand and ran his thumb over the little scar, his brow furrowing as he listened, but he thankfully didn't verbally interrupt her. Instead, he brought her hand to his mouth and pressed a little kiss to the skin.

"She lived with us for a while, when we were kids," she continued. Eira was like a ticking time bomb, and she was so unpredictable that Nesta never knew when she was in the blast zone until it was too late. "I got so used to walking on eggshells all the time. Always ready for the blow before it came, you know? I wanted someone's affection so badly that it made it even worse when it never came. And it's not like my parents gave a shit about it, either. If they did, they didn't care enough to do anything about it."

"Fuck," Cassian said, looking horrified.

"Yeah," Nesta said back. She looked away from him and fisted her free hand in the blanket, the texture grounding her as she reminded herself that she was here and neither Rhea nor Eira could ever hurt her again. "I tried really hard to make sure my sisters never knew, but there's only so much you can do when you're a kid, too. It fucked me up, and then my ex fucked me up all over again."

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, Nesta," he reminded her after she'd gone quiet for a few moments. "I mean that."

"I know," she replied. She didn't want to get into any of the details, either, but she wanted to make sure he understood where she was coming from. "And I know you're not... I know that you'd never do any of that stuff to me. Ever. But no matter how many times I tell myself that..."

"Your body still remembers," he finished her sentence. He squeezed her hand and she looked back up at him to see nothing but concern and love reflecting back at her. "And that's okay, sweetheart. I never want you to feel like you need to force yourself into something because of me."

"I know," she told him, and she meant it. He was always so patient with her, no matter how many strange hangups she had, and she'd never stop appreciating that. "You make me want to be soft, but sometimes my body just... can't."

"And that's okay," he repeated. "I'll do whatever you need me to do, sweetheart. I'll ask you a million times if it's okay to touch you, I'll make all kinds of noise when I'm coming up behind you, and I'll be as slow as you want until you get fed up with me."

"I just hate that I even have to ask you to do that," Nesta mumbled, still looking down at her hand wrapped around the blanket. It was hard for her to speak up and express what she needed, but Cassian wasn't the kind of guy who would let her get away with that for long.

"I know, but I'm proud of you for doing it anyway," Cassian replied. "Do you believe me?"

She finally looked up at him. "A little."

"Okay," he said, nodding decisively. "That just means I have to keep working until you do. Is that okay with you?"

"I guess so," she said back quietly. The conversation had taken a lot out of her, and she was already fighting the urge to run and hide.

"That's enough for me, then." Cassian seemed to realize just how emotionally drained she was, and took a deep breath before changing the topic. "I'm glad we talked about this, sweetheart. You wanna watch that movie now?"

"Yeah," Nesta agreed. "And... me too."

#acotar #acosf #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #moodymelanistwrites #nessian prompts #anon asks #tw: past abuse #tw: discussion of abuse

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lilacmeadows · 4 years ago

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Made For You pt.1

Okay so this is gonna be a series. My FIRST series. So go easy on me pretty please. I’ve never written smut, and I know nobody wants badly written smut. So we’ll see about that. But this one is definitely gonna be more of a slow burn. Maybe 4 chapters? Yeah. I like that. 4 chapters. I’ve just been thinking about this idea for a while and I wanna get into writing. I hope someone likes this.

BUCKY X READER

Summary: Hydra had just finished training you to be the Winter Soldier’s perfect mate when the Avengers saved him. But what’s going to happen to you now that Hydra has deleted your old life and left you with nothing but a soldier that needs to learn to love himself before he can love someone else.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (coming soon)

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, explicit language, eventual dom/sub dynamics, mentions of captivity and kidnapping. violence- guns, mutual pining, eventual smut, fluff, angst if you squint (must be 18+)

WORD COUNT: 2k

PART ONE

She’s so used to quiet in her quaint bedroom. The faint whirring of the air conditioner, sounds of footsteps and machinery being rolled outside her door, the music they would play for her when she was extra good that week.

So when she was awoken to gunshots and yelling, y/n was anxious and didn’t know what to do. She backed into the corner of the room furthest from the door and shut her eyes. Hopefully, if she stayed quiet and unseen, things would resolve itself, and she wouldn’t see any violence come her way.

Luckily for her, after what felt like hours later, the sounds quieted down. The gunshots were less frequent and finally came to a stop. She waited for a few moments before sitting on her bed with intentions of continuing her knitting. She wasn’t allowed many activities, but this was one luxury the Men didn’t mind since she hadn’t had any violent outbursts in a long time. She hated being shocked, and she liked knitting.

But the quiet didn’t last long. Minutes later, she could hear footsteps approaching her room. Too late to go back into her corner without being heard through the ‘doggie door’ the Men used to pass her food twice a day, she sat still and slowed her breathing.

‘Anything on that floor?’ She heard one male voice say from further away.

‘Not yet. Mostly supply closets on this floor, but I’ll check them all.’ Said a voice from much closer. He couldn’t have been more than 10 feet away from her door. She could tell they were American like her because they didn’t have the funny accents the Men all had. Gripping her plastic knitting needles tightly in one hand she braced herself for the intrusion.

Her door cracked open a little, then quickly opened all the way.

“Cap, you need to see this.” The man called over his shoulder. “Are you alright ma’am?”

“Yes. I’m fine, sir.” Her small voice replied, a little rough from lack of use, but still remarkably sweet.

“Who are you? Do you know where you are?” He approached her slowly, taking in her meager appearance, but also watching out for the pointy sticks she has a death grip on.

“My name is y/n. I’m in my room.” She replied. Starting to feel very uneasy by this stranger, but also not thinking that he would hurt him. She had been here for so long, it was strange seeing a tall, black man enter her bedroom. Only trainers and watchers were allowed to enter her bedroom.

“What is it?” Another, taller man asked, but his question was soon answered when his eyes landed on the girl sitting on her bed with her tucked gently under her. He immediately noticed her lack of decent clothing, and it caused a blush to creep up his neck.

“We have a girl here, possibly a hostage, maybe an experiment. She doesn’t look like she particularly wants to be rescued.” The first man said to the other, who’s slowly entering the room while trying not to stare at her thin, flimsy, cotton dress.

“Hi, I’m Steve, this is Sam. Do you know where you’re from?” The blonde man said to her while crouching down to be at her eye level. She nodded her head yes. “Well we’re the good guys. We’re here to save you. Do you want to come with us so we can take you home?”

She had to contemplate for a minute. It had been so long since she got here that she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to leave. These men looked sincere, but she knew if she left and was caught, she’d be punished terribly. But if the gunshots meant anything, there would be nobody to punish her. Which means she can’t stay regardless because there would be nobody to take care of her either.

“Did you kill my watchers?” She looked at the blond man after a few quiet seconds. Steve and Sam made eye contact and had a whole argument in silence before Sam spoke up.

‘Yes, we did. But they were bad men. They were keeping you here. But you’re free now. You just gotta follow us, and we’ll get you out of here.’ Sam said, gently. Not wanting her to think they’re cold blooded murderers, but also trying to rush this meeting along so they can board the quinjet, where the rest of the team was waiting.

Steve held one of his hands out to her, which she hesitantly took- knitting needles and purple ball of yarn in her other hand. She thought about grabbing her sweaters, but they weren’t kept in her room. Quite frankly, she had no idea where they were. The Men didn’t allow her to keep the things she learned to knit in her room. But they would give her back a sweater during the cold months. So she just followed the two men awkwardly. Them taking large, hard steps towards parts of the building she had never seen, and her dainty footsteps lagging behind. The trainers taught her to walk with a ladylike gait, on the balls of her feet with barely any pressure to her heels.

After many hallways and stairwells, they found themselves outside the building. The quinjet was parked close by, and y/n’s eyes almost jumped out of her head. Of course she had never seen anything like that before. The men led her onto the loading area which closed behind them.

“Take a break for sightseeing?” Said one man from the front of the jet. They couldn’t see her because of her small stature behind the two men.

“Actually, we found someone. Her name is y/n. She was in one of the rooms, top floor.” Steve said to the man, while fishing you out from behind his back.

She was met with eyes. Many pairs of eyes. All looking directly at her. Not used to all the attention, she looked down at her feet, which were bare as usual and slightly irritated from walking on various terrains. Her toes painted baby pink. Another luxury the Men allowed her. Some watchers were nicer than others. The shorter, fat one that came every other night would bring her a light, barely noticeable, polish that she was only allowed to put on her toes.

Being there wasn’t so terrible. She was 10 when they took her in 2006. She had a mom and older brother, and they lived in a town in Georgia. She often wonders what happened to them that morning when the Men put a rag over her face, and she woke up on a bed in the room that would become her new bedroom.

She didn’t leave the room often. There was a small bathroom across the hall from her room. The watcher would be standing guard outside her door, and she would let him know she would like to use the bathroom or bathe. He would have to stand in the room with her while she bathed, but after a while, they were kind enough to face the wall. She fought for a long time. Refusing to eat the food (which wasn’t terrible), screaming and crying, she even plotted the occasional failed attack. But then they started the shock therapy, and she learned. Being in that chair was brutal. Rewiring her brain into submission. Submission to the Men so they could train her. She had to be ready for the Soldat when he needed her. Why her? She didn’t ask and they didn’t tell her. She learned very quickly that she was only allowed to speak when spoken to.

Make the Soldat happy. That was her mission. She had been told that phrase so many times that she heard it in her sleep. She had never seen or met him, but she was being trained to be his. A possession he could have control over during the brief times he was unfrozen. She was to listen to him, obey, sleep with him, and just make him happy because the mind controlling words were having less and less of an effect, and the Men were afraid he would lash out and massacre them all.

But it doesn’t seem like she’ll be fulfilling her life goal after all because now she’s in the air with a group of people looking at her like she has two heads. A woman with pretty red hair, a man with a large bow, and a man with nice glasses towards the front of the jet, were on one side. On the other was a blond man with very long hair, standing up to talk to a man in a purple shirt, and a man sitting by himself with long brown hair. All of their stares were pointed at her, but his seemed to go through her. Like he had x-ray vision and could read her mind.

“Y/n, you can have a seat right there.” Sam said, pointing to an empty seat next to the redhead who only squinted at her. “That’s Natasha. She’s nicer than she looks.”

“No, I’m not.” She said, making eye contact with y/n. “But we’re glad to have you aboard.” Natasha finished, the slightest smile forming at the girl.

“Um... Cap, where are her clothes?” The man from before asked Steve.

“I don’t know. This is what she was wearing, and I didn’t see a wardrobe anywhere, Tony.” Steve sighed, obviously exasperated by even the thought of a conversation with Tony.

Tony looked at the girl expectantly. Was he waiting for her to chime in? Because he’d be waiting a long time. She was trained very well. Talking out of turn was one of the first rules she learned.

“Sweetheart, are you alright? Do you want something to cover up? We have blankets. What about water? You thirsty? Does she even understand a word I’m saying?” Tony’s last question was aimed at the men she entered with.

“I understand. I’m sorry. I’m alright, sir.” And if the team was trying to keep their staring inconspicuous at first, they completely abandoned that when she spoke. Her voice was so small and smooth. Just a little weak from not talking much.

“How about we get you a blanket anyway so I can be a little more comfortable” He nodded towards Sam who left the room and returned with a large blanket. She hadn’t realized how cold she was or that her nipples were pointing through her thin dress. Or that the cotton dress was really just a white slip that was damn near see through.

Maybe the grumpy looking man on the other side of the jet does have x-ray vision.

“Thank you, sir.” Everyone had to be called Sir. She hadn’t been around any women, but she was pretty sure if they looked as serious as the one next to her, she’d call them Ma’am.

“Tony is fine.” He smiled at her.

“Hey. I’m Clint, by the way.” The man on Natasha’s other side said, turning his body to address her. “So, umm... What were you doing up there? Are you working for Hydra?” Other members of the team groaned and scolded him for being so blunt, even though they were secretly happy he asked because they also wanted to know.

“I was knitting.” She said simply. She was going to leave it at that, but she could see the way Clint’s eyebrows almost touched his hairline at her short reply. So she continued with the mantra she was raised with. “My purpose is to make the Soldat happy. He is my mission.”

She had never seen a room of people’s heads turn so fast. Eyes darting from her to the brooding man on the other side of the jet. He squinted his eyes, looking equally as confused.

She hadn’t realized that her mission was right in front of her.

part 2

#bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #the avengers #steve rodgers smut #thor smut #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky fluff #chubby!bucky #winter solider x reader #winter soldier smut

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amaya-chwan · 3 years ago

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Takeaways from Therapy Game Restart 14 + Illustration Book Release Date

Hello again everyone! ❤️💛💜

It's finally here... chapter 14! In all its glory! 😍🥰✨

Before we get to our takeaways, just some news I missed in the last post!

🎉 SENSEI'S ILLUSTRATION BOOK WILL BE RELEASED AROUND THURSDAY, 23RD SEPTEMBER! 🎉

Image taken from this Twitter post from Dear+!

It is titled "日ノ原巡イラスト集　DARLING" and boasts a collection of illustrations from Sensei's works so far: Secret XXX, Therapy Game, and Kamisama no Uroko.

The current price is ¥2970 with tax (¥2700 without tax). If you'd like to preorder it on your proxy shopping service, I've found it on the Comi Comi Studios website here! The bonus for purchasing it on this website is a B5 clear file~ I haven't seen it on Animate just yet, so fingers crossed it'll appear on their website soon with another (different) bonus! ❤️💛

Alright, with this amazing news done, let's move onto our takeaways, the long awaited takeaways! Thank you for being so patient with me! 💜

My short life update: currently in week 8 of lockdown and I haven't left my house in a long time other than for exercise or groceries. But I do have my vaccination appointment booked so YAY! 🎉

Here are our takeaways for this chapter:

Oh man, we pick right up from the last page of chapter 13. MINATO, BB, YOU LOOK SO PAINED! 😭

Sensei is the BIGGEST tease... that's all we got of that Minato and Shizuma scene...👀😭

The female staff at the veterinary hospital have really mellowed out! They're not bad, after all. ☺️

Oh dear, Nakajou-sensei, please get better ASAP!

Whoa... did Onodera just...?? I'm starting to think back to that Onodera discussion we had a couple of months ago... 🤔

Poor Shizuma, always roped into Onodera's workplace stuff! IT'S BECAUSE YOU HAVE GREAT PEOPLE SKILLS, SHIZUMA! PROUD OF YOU! 😍🙌

Man, Onodera has a really... blunt way of saying things to her human clients. Wow, brave. 😲

But I will say, Onodera really is good with animals. 🙌

Yet again, I think about that Onodera discussion we had... 🤔🤔

And that’s it for this chapter’s takeaways! For a more detailed breakdown/summary of this chapter, please continue after the cut! There may or may not be a surprise scene (or two) there. Please keep reading if you want to see~ 😉✨

Our chapter begins where we left off in chapter 13--Minato pinning Shizuma down on the bed. Shizuma looks up at Minato and reflects on his actions that caused the pained look he is seeing.

Image taken from this Dear+ Twitter post!

On the next page (title page), the dialogue reads: Shizuma wants to understand what it is about his director (Onodera) that is making Minato uneasy. // However, that beautiful liar hides it well...

(I believe we are taken back to the morning before Shizuma and Minato meet up for their date.)

The title page features Onodera walking back to the clinic, bread in hand, with a cat cozying up on her leg. We are then brought to the clinic's lunchroom, with the female staff and Shizuma on break. The roster in the room shows that Onodera is extremely busy, Nakajou-sensei has afternoon house call appointments, Tatsumi is Nakajou-sensei's support for these appointments, and Shizuma has a half day and finishes in the afternoon in lieu of working on his scheduled day off.

Shizuma asks his coworkers what presents they like from their partners and takes note of their answers. One of the female nurses asks if it's Minato's birthday. Shizuma confesses that their relationship has been affected by the various things happening lately, so he wants to get Minato a gift before seeing him later that day.

The nurses quickly pick up that the gift is a "tribute" of sorts as this line of work means a lot of missed appointments and dates, and Shizuma confirms their suspicions. While the nurses realise male-male relationships and male-female relationships aren't that different in this aspect, everyone in the lunchroom is alerted to someone shouting Nakajou-sensei's name.

Shizuma and a nurse see Tatsumi with Nakajou-sensei, who has collapsed on the floor. While the staff are concerned about Nakajou's well-being, she brushes it off as a dizzy spell. Before they can help her up, Onodera sweeps her off her feet and carries Nakajou to her (Onodera's) office. While Nakajou asks Onodera to put her down out of sheer embarrassment, Shizuma and Tatsumi are in shock, with Tatsumi commenting on Onodera's manliness in that moment. One of the other nurses gently smacks Shizuma's shoulder and tells the two to grab a blanket and a drink for Nakajou.

In her office, Onodera asks Nakajou why she's been overworking herself to the point of collapsing. The nurse (who gave the gentle smack) very obviously hints to Onodera that it is her fault. As Nakajou calms the nurse by saying that's just how the director is, Tatsumi asks Nakajou about their afternoon appointments. She says she'll be fine to go after a little rest, but the nurse says she mustn't overexert herself.

After a few back and forths about who should go and the clients' needs/personality (picky about the vet, had a pet that doesn't like men, etc), Onodera says she will go. The nurses are shocked and reminisce about all the issues they've had when Onodera interacts with the owners. Tatsumi and Shizuma stand there, and can very clearly imagine those situations happening.

While Onodera rearranges and informs the nurses of the shift changes to accommodate Nakajou-sensei, Shizuma has a terrible premonition that unfortunately comes true: he is appointed as Onodera's support for the afternoon house calls.

Wearing a sulky expression, Shizuma packs the necessary equipment in Onodera's car and reminds her that he has a very important engagement that night that he cannot miss, and as such will leave immediately after the house call appointments are done. Onodera bursts his bubble, and tells him to give up on those plans while he can since this is the line of work he's chosen.

As Shizuma reads the client files, he questions Onodera on why he is her support when he's never attended to these clients before. While Onodera tells him that good coordination is important with a physician's support and that he's the only one she can rely on to give her an honest opinion and calm the clients, Shizuma realises that he's basically the mediator between her and the owners. She confirms that this is his strong point, has great expectations for him, and proceeds to drive. Shizuma then reads the patient files at lightning speed, realising there's a threatening 'something' that Minato has sensed, but that's just how the director is. He then vows to make it to their meeting tonight, no matter what.

The first three house calls, as expected, involve Onodera insulting and angering the owners--Onodera tells the first client that his insistence on seeing Nakajou rather than a 'young' director is having a negative effect on his pet who needs immediate medical care; Onodera offends the second client, inferring from their conversation that her pet's appearance is more important than the need to shave their fur and get an ultrasound done; Onodera accuses the third client of being irresponsible in caring for his exotic animals and asks for more effort on his part. In all three scenarios, Shizuma awkwardly smiles while trying to ease the tension.

The scene skips to Onodera and Shizuma arriving at their fourth and final house call for the day. Just as Onodera explains to Shizuma that she must check a whole host of things at house calls (and indirectly be too blunt about it with the owners), Shizuma asks her to consider the owner's feelings and change when and how she says things. She glares ahead in silence, and Shizuma is just glad that she is now aware of it. He again reminds her to talk with the owner nicely and gently as he probably won't be able to help with the next client as their pet dislikes men. Onodera tells him to just sit in the corner and witness the client become furious while he doesn't help, making him feel slightly guilty for saying that. He is now adament on not helping her.

They reach the owner's home and we meet an elderly woman named Shiratori and her 9-year-old male cat, Tono. Shiratori apologises to Shizuma as her cat doesn't like men. Tono hisses at them as Onodera opens his cage, but is then coaxed into submission by Onodera who covers his vision with a towel and takes him into her lap to calm down. Shiratori and Shizuma are surprised at his sudden docile nature, with Shizuma witnessing how well she deals with animals.

As Shizuma looks on at Onodera while she completes a check on Tono, he sees she is crumbling at the friendliness and talkative nature of Shiratori, who sings nothing but praise for Onodera and how her family must be proud to have such an amazing daughter. Aiming to ease her troubles and remembering the earlier guilt-trip she gave him, he redirects Shiratori's attention to her broken fly screen and offers to fix that plus everything else that needs repair in her home.

Onodera watches as the two leave the room for a bit before apologising to Tono for ignoring him. Tono looks on at Onodera happily while she asks him how he can live with such a lively human and to tell her his secret to this. She brings him into her arms once more to check his limbs, and as Tono looks up smiling at Onodera, Onodera sees her reflection in Tono's eyes, and both seem to realise something.

BG Text: Stare...

Suddenly, Shizuma and Shiratori, who are busy fixing the window, hear a loud crash and rush into the room to find Tono atop the cabinet and Onodera on the floor, with her hair in disarray. In the next panel, Tono is shown to be hiding in the bookshelf, looking on irritatingly at the humans. Shiratori apologises to Onodera, who shakes it off and says it's nothing to worry about and no harm's been done.

Shiratori asks if Onodera will fix/tie her hair up again, but when Onodera says her hair tie was broken when Tono used her as a launchpad to get on the cabinet, Shiratori runs to get her a new one. As Shiratori gushes over the 3 piece dopey looking character hair tie set she received as a present from her grandchild (and lets Onodera pick one), a greatly displeased look is plastered on Onodera's face. Shizuma, in shock, notices her displeasure and hopes she just thanks Shiratori for it. And Onodera does, bringing a great big smile to Shiratori's face.

As Onodera and Shizuma leave, Shiratori says she's glad to have talked with Onodera and invites her to come over again. As she says this, we see Onodera looking back with a blank look in her eyes.

And that’s it for this chapter! THANK YOU FOR READING THIS FAR! 💜 While I was surprised at the lack of Minato in this chapter (Sensei legit is such a tease, LOL 🤣), I'm happy we can learn more about Onodera. Ngl, I'm starting to really question if Onodera is male or female now, given what transpired in this chapter. I guess we shall see in the next one!

I also changed the formatting a bit and removed the bullet points. Please let me know which format is better/easier to read! Ahah!

EDIT: Spelling and grammar checks are done! Didn't change a lot, but hope it reads better! 💜

📢 As always, please support Hinohara-sensei by purchasing her books and CDs! 📢

And please also refrain from resharing these translations and images outside of this post! Thank you for understanding! ❤️💛

There won't be a chapter in next month's (September release) Dear+, so I shall see you in two months for the next chapter (Dear+ November Issue, to be released in October).

As always, stay safe during these turbulent times and look out for each other and for your loved ones! 💜❤️💛

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yslkook · 4 years ago

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#deep dive (11)

#corporate masterlist summary: you receive some surprising news at work and you and jungkook go on your first mini-trip together in tokyo. word count: 11.2k warnings: cursing, alcohol, smut, a fight, discussions of mental health smut warnings- handjob, blowjob, fingering, guided masturbation, penetrative sex, overstimulation, a lil crying, excessive use of pet names lol a/n: another chapter that got away from me... our couple is moving along ladies!! as always ty @cutechim for ur inspiring enthusiasm!!

Surprisingly, after your outburst at work, you hadn’t been reprimanded at all. Despite being nervous to show your face to your boss and your coworkers, there was apparently no need to be nervous.

Because your boss was out on “leave”. Which, as Seokjin and Namjoon had informed you, was really just a way for the senior leaders to tell your boss and his boss to get their shit together.

Much more aggressively, of course.

You’re surprised to see your boss’s office empty and his boss’s office empty as well. And then guilt begins to seep into your bones- had you gotten them fired? It was hard enough to land a job these days, and had you done that to them?

Jungkook catches your forlorn gaze and squeezes your hand subtly as he walks with you to your cubicle. Your side of the floor is relatively quiet today, as many people were out of the office or working from home.

He sits with you in the chair in your cubicle and pulls his laptop out to do some work on this breezy morning. You quite like these impromptu working sessions with him- even if you’re (halfway) in love with him, you both know where to raise the lines of professionalism.

But you hold his hand for a second longer, and he squeezes once more.

“What if I got them fired,” You whisper, careful to keep your voice low.

“Even if they did get fired, they deserve it. For creating a toxic workplace environment,” Jungkook says, so full of conviction that you almost believe it.

“Okay,” You say uncertainly, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” He murmurs, giving you a sweet, bunny smile, “I’m sure.”

You nod, sighing heavily. “I’ll book a conference room, can you ping Sana and let her know we have to finish those deliverables for the workshop in August? So Namjoon can get his eyes on it…”

“Can’t believe it’s already May,” Jungkook mumbles, shaking his head, “Fucking crazy.”

“I know, right?”

You pack up your laptop and your notebook in your bag and gesture for Jungkook to follow you to the conference room. He walks behind you, wanting to catch a glimpse of the way your dark green pencil skirt hugs your hips and your ass.

Nice.

Midway through your working meeting with Sana and Jungkook, you receive a ping from Hae-Ri herself. Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you when you stop speaking mid-sentence, your eyebrows furrowed in perplexity.

“Uh, I gotta step out for a few minutes. Can you two finish this off in the meantime?” You ask, pulling your green blazer on shoving your laptop in your bag.

“Yeah, I think we’re almost done anyway,” Sana says, eyeing you and Jungkook with suspicious eyes. She’s long suspected something was going on with you both. She’s not blind to the not so discreet heart eyes you both send each other, but she assumes you both are keeping whatever it is a secret.

Jungkook sends you a text right away. You tell him Hae-Ri asked to speak with you and that you’ll text him later.

Your heart is in your throat as you walk the two minutes to her corner office with a view but you keep your face as neutral as possible.

She’s already ushering you inside and closing the door behind her, telling you to take a seat.

“Do you want coffee or tea or water?” Hae-Ri asks, pouring herself a large cup of coffee.

“No, I’m okay, thanks,” You say, straightening your back as you try to calm your racing heart.

She sits in her big, fancy leather office chair (it looks like it costs more than the outfit on your skin) and she just looks at you, with her unnerving eyes. You say nothing, only meeting her gaze with the same intensity.

Hae-Ri breaks your impromptu staring contest first with a wide grin.

“So,” She starts.

“So…”

“Do you know why I asked you to come in here?”

You bite your tongue, wanting to ask her “how would I know why you called me in here” but you refrain. “No…”

“Being the head of business development means that I have visibility to everything,” Hae-Ri says matter of factly, “And I’m sure you know that Namjoon and Seokjin sing your praises every chance they can.

“The reason I called you in here is because there’s an opening for a new team that’s gonna be managed under both Hyo-Jin and I. It’ll be a hybrid approach for managing new products, submissions and being part of the business strategy. The position would have a direct line to Hyo-Jin but a dotted line to me. And we think you would be a great fit for it. It’s an associate director level position…”

Associate director? You can’t help your jaw from dropping, that’s three levels up from your current position. It’s a promotion on top of a promotion.

Holy shit. Nobody’s ever recognized you in this way. You swallow a ball of emotion down your throat- of course, you complain about work, about your shitty boss. But never in your wildest dreams, could you have imagined that two of the heads in this area would recognize and recommend you.

“It’s a lot to think about and consider. The position will be posted on the internal career portal in about three weeks to a month. It’ll be a challenge, but I think you’re up to the task. Of course, there is no pressure if you choose not to apply. But talent and leadership should not go unrecognized.”

When you tell Jungkook what Hae-Ri said to you in the safety of your car, he’s far more excited than you are. He kisses your cheeks, your forehead, your lips and you can’t help but laugh at his antics.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” Jungkook breathes, “About time these people got their shit together-”

“It’s a lot to think about,” You muse, “A promotion of three levels? That hardly ever happens…”

“That just shows how incredibly amazing my hot, sexy, girlfriend is,” Jungkook says, earning himself a swat of his shoulder by your hand, “And it shows how shitty your boss was to let you fly under the radar for this long.”

You give him a small smile. “I have a few weeks to think about it before it gets posted. Hae-Ri said it should be up in mid-June…”

“We gotta celebrate,” Jungkook insists, dropping another kiss to your glossy lips. You laugh, feeling a little giddy along with him.

“It’s not premature?”

“We’re only celebrating the mere possibility.”

“Okay,” You nod, “Let’s go for drinks tonight with our friends? But can we just keep it between us? I don’t want to jinx anything.”

“Yeah, it can be our secret for now,” Jungkook winks, his hoops shaking as he laughs with you, “Stay the night tonight?”

“Maybe, I’ll see if Grandma is okay,” You murmur and Jungkook nods. A squeal (one that you’ll later deny) leaves your lips when Jungkook pulls you into his lap and presses kisses up and down the column of your neck.

“Now lemme show my girl how proud I am of her.”

It’s another night, a warm sticky night in June, where Jungkook stays over your house for the weekend. You don’t like leaving Grandma alone, despite her insistence that you have your own life. Jungkook understands, and it was actually him who had suggested spending the weekend at your place.

Your heart flutters at the thought of him. He had a late Friday meeting and had told you he’d meet you at your house around seven or eight that evening, and had subtly squeezed your hand in your cubicle in goodbye.

That was a few hours ago, and Jungkook had texted you letting you know that he was on his way. He had stopped by to bring flowers, a bottle of wine and some pastries for you and Grandma. They were Grandma’s favorites.

Grandma had insisted on making dinner for you and Jungkook, despite your protests. Your favorite aromas linger in the air and you contemplate having a few bites before Jungkook even arrives. You try to reach for a piece of mandu but Grandma swats your hand away, admonishing you for trying to eat before your boyfriend and guest even arrived.

Boyfriend. What a strange word.

A series of knocks. You eagerly step towards the front door, ignoring Grandma’s not so quiet snicker.

“Hi,” You breathe out, feeling a little flustered. As if you hadn’t just seen him a few hours ago at work.

“Hi, sweet girl,” Jungkook says with a small upturn of his lips and you press a chaste kiss to his lips. It surprises him, how often you kiss him in front of Grandma. Even if they are quick, chaste kisses.

“You gonna invite him in or just stand there and let him get cold?” Grandma says from the dining room, peering over to you both with a hand on her hip.

“Yeah, you gonna let me get cold?” Jungkook asks with a wink and you groan. They always tag team you, but you don’t mind. In fact, you love it. You love that your boyfriend and your only remaining member of your family get along.

You pull him inside and take his bag from him, finally seeing the flowers, bottle of wine and box in his arms.

“What’s all this?” You ask with widened eyes, “You didn’t have to, Jungkook…”

He always brings something when he comes over, and you always say those words to him.

“His parents raised him better than to come to someone’s house empty handed,” Grandma says in approval, making Jungkook’s heart soar. Whenever Grandma gives an inclination that she likes him, it makes him smile. It’s endearing. You rub his cheek with your thumb affectionately and he scrunches his nose at your touch.

“I’ll go put your stuff upstairs,” You murmur, rubbing his back warmly and leaving him with Grandma. Jungkook pulls the sleeves of his sweater to his elbows to help Grandma put the food on the dining table, and your heart constricts at how well he fits with you in your cozy home.

You return to find three glasses of wine filled and a plate already set for you across from Jungkook.

“Food’s so good, Grandma,” Jungkook moans, after nearly inhaling his entire plate. And then some.

“No thanks to your girlfriend,” Grandma snorts and shoots you a teasing smile when you protest loudly.

“Hey! You insisted!”

You pout at both of them when they laugh at your expense, but their laughter makes you smile. Grandma asks Jungkook how work is going, how his family is. You only smile fondly at both of them, taking a backseat from the conversation. It amazes you, how quickly he’s taken to Grandma. You thought it would’ve taken a little more to pull him out of his shell. But he surprises you, as he usually does.

You clear the table and pour another glass of wine for you and Jungkook, who’s turning on your television to browse what movies or shows are available for watching.

You sit next to him after dimming the lights, careful with the two glasses of wine. He’s careful about touching you, not wanting to offend or make you or Grandma uncomfortable.

It’s endearing. You only smile at him, pulling the blankets up to cover you both and lean your head on his shoulder. He tenses up immediately, wanting to reluctantly move away from your touch but you squeeze his forearm in reassurance.

Grandma says nothing as she watches you both, only casting a knowing look to Jungkook.

His cheeks flush at her gaze and he sinks deeper under the blankets, hiding his warm cheeks from Grandma. Grandma only chuckles to herself and you’re oblivious to both of them, eyes focused on the movie.

Grandma had long gone to bed, and you and Jungkook are cuddled under the blankets. Jungkook watches the movie raptly, oblivious to your stolen glances and almost touches. You sigh, wrapping an arm around his bicep and nosing at his neck. You absently push his hair away from his eyes, the pads of your fingers dancing over his scalp. It takes a few moments of you nipping his neck, your lips wet and warm against his skin for him to turn his gaze to you.

“Can I help you?” Jungkook asks, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Yeah,” You breathe, “Let’s go to bed, baby.”

“But the movie,” Jungkook protests, his lips breaking into a wide smile at the furrow of your brow, “I’m only kidding. We can watch the movie in bed after all, right?”

You roll your eyes, shoving his shoulder playfully but he acquiesces.

You get through all of ten minutes of the movie once you settle in between his legs in your bed. Jungkook’s chin is over your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist loosely. You wonder if he can hear your heart beating right out of your chest. He holds you so easily, as if he was always meant to fit between the spaces of your body.

You’ve changed into your pajamas, just a shirt and some shorts and Jungkook has as well. Into an oversized shirt and his boxers.

Jungkook fully looks like your boyfriend, your baby, and it sends a wave of affection through you. Turning your head and shifting to look at him. His cut jaw calls for your attention and you press your lips there, to his neck and finally to his own lips.

“Can’t believe you’re mine,” You mumble, running your fingers through his dark hair.

“Are you mine?” Jungkook asks, pressing his forehead to yours. A smart comment is on the tip of your tongue, but it disappears from your mind quickly. The way he’s looking at you, as if you hold all of his warmth, makes you curl further into him and drop another kiss to his lips.

“Yes,” You exhale and your cheeks heat up when you pluck the courage to run a hand over his chest. Jungkook finds your shyness endearing- for someone a little rough around the edges, he’s not surprised at your softness.

“Baby,” Jungkook murmurs, the term of affection still making your heart lurch, “You can touch, sweet girl. ‘M all yours.”

You swallow, a little nervously. “Me too,” You say softly, “Want you to touch me, baby.” You lean your head on his shoulder, tugging him down to you and meet his lips eagerly. You deepen the kiss quickly, a moan slipping out of your mouth without realizing. You could kiss him for hours, the soft feel of his smooth lips against yours is addicting. Flurries of butterflies erupt in your belly when he nips your bottom lip playfully and you moan again, the sound shooting straight through Jungkook.

He pulls away for a breath, looking at you with hooded eyes. You’re about to dip your head for another kiss but he ducks his head to plaster his lips to your neck. The wetness of his tongue slides along the column of your neck, before he gently kisses you behind your ear. If you were standing, your knees would have buckled surely. Jungkook cups your face gently, rubbing your cheek as he buries his face in your neck.

“Jungkook,” You breathe and he coaxes an unexpected moan from your throat when he sucks and soothes your collarbones.

Jungkook pulls away with reddened lips and you immediately push your lips to his without missing a breath. He’s itching to let his hands roam, to squeeze and hike your shirt up around your waist before peeling it off altogether.

You run your tongue over his bottom lip teasingly and press your chest flat against his. He’s been so patient with you, taking it as slow as you had needed to. Jungkook has been following your lead this whole time, not wanting to overwhelm you. But you’ve been ready for him to take the lead and teach you. The last thing he wants to do is make you feel pressured.

And honestly, all Jungkook wants to do is make you feel good. And learn what you like and don’t like. He doesn’t think you even know what you like. He has a feeling of a few things that he is excited to explore with you.

Jungkook is not surprised when you take his hand and pull it under your shirt. The pads of his fingertips, brush lightly against your sides. You gasp at the sudden spark of his hands against your skin and impatiently slide up against him for more friction.

His hands are so big, so much bigger than your own, dotted in tattoos. You can hardly believe these are the hands that are squeezing you so gently and adoringly. But you’re impatient, and you pull your sleep shirt up and off of your frame to toss it to the side.

You want more. You want more of him and you don’t want slow. You want soft, but you’re ready for something a little more.

“My pretty girl,” Jungkook purrs, thumbs flitting over your tits, “Does my pretty girl want somethin’?”

“Just want you,” You mumble.

“Tell me,” Jungkook murmurs, fingers tracing over your tattoos with a featherlight touch.

“Want you to touch me,” You nearly whine, and he grins in satisfaction. One of these days, he’ll teach you what it means to beg. But not today. He palms your breasts, moaning into your neck just at the feel of your soft flesh in his hands.

The sight of his tattooed hands on yours, his tattooed arms around you sends another bolt of arousal down your spine.

Your eyes close of their own volition when he pinches your nipple, a silent sound caught in your throat. And then his pliant mouth replaces his fingers, warm breath fanning over your chest. Arousal shoots down your spine and you squeeze your legs together without realizing it.

It’s clear that he knows what he’s doing- not that you had any doubt in your mind about that. He’s told you that he’s had two serious girlfriends in college and the beginning of graduate school. You’re certain there were hookups in between and after.

Your hips buck up, grinding into the air as you squirm in his arms. “Stay still,” Jungkook murmurs. You can’t help it, not really. But you try to listen anyway. “Open your eyes,” He coaxes you.

When you meet his eyes, they’re slick with desire and adoration. For you.

“Good girl,” He says, his voice low. The low timber of his voice sends a shudder through you and your eyes widen. Jungkook’s lips twist into a smirk.

“Will you let me make you feel good?” Jungkook asks, his hand ghosting over your thighs. Your hips jump at the sensation and he squeezes your waist. You nod eagerly. “Tell me, baby,” He says, his lips leaving trails of kisses down your chest and your belly.

“Yes,” You gasp, “Jungkook, please-”

He gives you a bright, bunny smile and your heart skips a beat. Adjusting you so that your back is flat against his chest, he kisses the back of your neck. His touch is constant on you- your belly, your waist, your breasts.

Jungkook palms your clothed pussy and you gasp sharply at the buzzing sensation suddenly filling your head. You reach behind him to wrap your arm around his head and tug on his hair impatiently as he rubs against you with quicker paces.

You wonder if he even knows what he’s doing to you. From the wetness staining your panties, he just might find out soon enough.

“Show me how you touch yourself, baby,” Jungkook murmurs, his voice husky in your ear. You’re certain cotton is filling his brain, because there’s no way he just asked you that.

“What?” You ask, and Jungkook chuckles at your speechlessness.

“Didn’t hear me?” Jungkook says, “Show me how you touch yourself.”

You’re stunned into submission, peering up at him with hazy eyes. Keeping your eyes on him, you shrug out of your shorts and your underwear in one fell swoop, leaving you completely bare for his gaze. Goosebumps rise on your skin when he says nothing, only drinking you in with wide, thirsty eyes.

Jungkook swallows. “Fuck.”

“What?” You ask, beginning to panic at his lack of a reaction. You close your legs instinctively but he pushes your knees apart, giving him a view of your glistening folds.

“Had such a big crush on you in school,” Jungkook mutters, “You didn’t even know, baby. And now I get to see you like this. Because you gave us a chance.

“And you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” Jungkook says, tugging your jaw to him and dropping a deep kiss to your lips.

“Thought you wanted a show,” You quirk the corner of your lips up and he chuckles against your neck. His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer to him and you feel something hard poking at your ass.

It makes your stomach flip. You bring your knees up to your chest and spread your legs wider. Jungkook’s breaths are staggered in your ear and he squeezes your tits as your hands slide down your chest to your pussy. You rub your clit, your hips jolting immediately and Jungkook holds you steady.

You tease yourself, your touch barely there as your clit throbs. “Look at you, pretty girl,” Jungkook murmurs. You circle your clit with your middle finger, gathering your wetness before Jungkook seizes your hand.

It appears he’s growing impatient, too.

His much longer fingers replace yours, the touch sending another bolt of electricity through you. You imagine what Jungkook’s fingers feel like against you almost all the time, but reality is so much better than your daydreams. He rubs you lazily and you whine, wanting him to go faster. You put your hand over his as he circles your clit.

You don’t even realize that you’re moaning and squirming, pushing back against his hard cock purposefully. “Be quiet, baby,” Jungkook whispers, nipping your earlobe, “Grandma’s only a few doors down…”

Jungkook makes you feel like you’re in your own world, thoughts filled with nothing but sinful honey and him. You whimper as he rubs your clit faster and faster, your thighs beginning to close to lock his fingers in place.

“Jungkook,” You moan, cheeks heating up at the pitchiness of your voice. Jungkook hums in response, only pressing his lips to your neck and his other hand to your chest. You push back against him harshly, back pressed into his chest as if you’re trying to mold yourself into him.

You writhe in his hold, not used to the feeling of his long, thick fingers rubbing your folds. Jungkook pushes a finger into your throbbing pussy once you’re slick and you shiver, a broken sort of noise escaping your lips. Your moans are loud, and Jungkook is pleased but he presses his lips to yours to swallow your soft noises.

Your grip around his wrist is tight, as if to tether yourself to him. “Hey,” Jungkook says softly, nipping at your earlobe again, “Look, baby. Watch me, look how your pussy was made for me. You’re so wet, sweet girl…”

Glancing down to where his fingers were gliding in and out of your wetness easily, you let out another choked noise. He slips another finger into your pussy and you let out a shuddering gasp of his name, your nails digging into his wrist. The lewd sounds of his fingers in your wetness fills your bedroom and if you weren’t so consumed by thoughts of him, you might be almost embarrassed.

“Kook,” You mumble, your hips grinding into his touch to feel as much of him as you can, “Kook, feels so good…” You snake a hand behind you to sink into his dark hair and tug lightly, pulling a soft groan from him.

“Good girl,” Jungkook murmurs, leaving hot, open mouthed kisses down the column of your neck, “My good girl, my dream girl-”

Another rush of wetness floods his fingers at his words and he smirks into your sweaty skin. Your ass is pressed up against his hardened cock, but he wants to make you feel good first. He can worry about himself later. He bucks his hips into your ass and you push back at the feel of his clothed cock against you.

Your thighs begin to shake, a coil beginning to snap in your belly. It’s more powerful than it’s ever been- your own fingers had never brought you to the edge like this.

“You’re close, right?” Jungkook nearly slurs, high off of the sound of your noises, “My pretty girl’s gonna cum all over my fingers?”

You tug his hair harder and nod furiously, hips still bucking into his fingers. It only takes a few more rubs of your clit and pumps of his fingers for you to gasp and arch your back off of his chest. Jungkook immediately plasters his lips to yours to silence the sound of you cumming.

He’ll have to hear them fully. He needs to. But not tonight.

You pull away to gasp for air and your chest is heaving, eyes wide at the force of your orgasm from just his fingers alone. “Jungkook,” You mumble, wanting to see him. You turn in his hold, finally facing him and he’s just as lust blown as you.

You give him a lazy smile and wrap your arms around him, nosing at his neck. Before he can say anything to you, you roll your hips into his, meeting his clothed hardness. Jungkook drops his head against the headboard, groaning softly. His hands are planted firmly on your bare hips and you seemingly don’t mind that he’s fully clothed while you’re not.

“Rock with me, baby,” He murmurs, burying his face in your chest. Your legs are on either side of his hips and you comply easily, your breath hitching when he kisses marks soothingly over your breasts.

You wonder if you’re about to have the pleasure of seeing Jungkook cum again- it’s always beautiful, like the rest of him. Your hips feel like home to him, he squeezes and swats your ass gently. You only grin at him, pressing your forehead to his. His eyes nearly close in pleasure but he keeps them open, wanting to see you moving with him. A wet spot forms on his boxers from both of your arousals and he knows he’s about to cum soon-

And you do, too.

“Y’r g’nna make me cum in my pants, like I’m fifteen,” Jungkook pants, eyes straining to stay open to watch you.

“Or like you’re twenty-one and you’re obsessed with your mentor,” You breathe, earning yourself a pinch to your waist, “Kook, ‘m close again…” You never cum this quickly after the first time. Jungkook brings out the best parts of you, it seems.

“Me too, baby,” He grunts into your skin, harshly covering your lips with his own. A spark blooms in your belly, slowly spreading and warming you up from within. It’s much slower and less intense than your first orgasm, but just as delicious. You’re sensitive as he rocks his hips into yours and you whine softly at the feeling.

You move to sit on his thigh and your hands shake for a moment before scratching his chest with your freshly done nails. Then his abs. Then his navel.

“Can I?” You mumble.

“Can you what, baby?” Jungkook asks, amusement still in his eyes. You huff. He’s really going to make you say it.

“Wanna feel you, baby,” You murmur, meeting his eyes, “Wanna feel your cock in my hand-”

“‘M yours, pretty girl,” He replies easily, taking your wrist in his hand. You palm him from outside his boxers and you both groan- you from how big he is, and him from how warm your hand feels against him.

You shyly dip your hand down the waistband of his boxers but he stops you for a second. He wordlessly moves you from his thigh to the bed to slip out of his boxers so that he’s bare to you as well. After all, it’s only fair.

You can’t stop the soft gasp that leaves your lips or the way that your eyes zero in on his leaking cock. He’s so big in your hands and you can’t help but lick your dry, parched lips. Your cheeks are warm and for once, you have nothing to say- no quip, no snarky remark.

You tug on his shirt impatiently- how had you allowed him to be wearing clothes for this long? Pulling his shirt off of him and tossing it to the floor, you allow yourself the luxury of letting your hands roam his honeyed skin. He’s somehow both cut and soft, tight and supple.

Despite the number of times you’ve seen him like this, you can never get used to it. Even if it’s not the first time his cock is hot and heavy in your hands, you can’t help but trace his tattoos with your free hand and feel a little in over your head.

“Kook,” You murmur, curling close into his side and drawing your knees up to your chest, “Baby, teach me.”

Jungkook groans, the sincerity in your voice making his stomach flip. He takes your hand and squeezes before guiding you to the tip of his reddened cock. You experimentally palm his cock, smearing his leaking pre-cum over his cock and he gasps, burying his face in your shoulder.

You stroke him slowly, watching and listening for his breaths. They’re heavy against your skin and he tightens his grip around your waist, trying to melt into you.

“Faster, baby,” Jungkook says, his voice wrecked, “‘m so close-”

You pump him faster in your hands, making sure to be gentle with your grip. Jungkook looks down, marvelling at how big he looks in your hands.

“Am I doing okay, Jungkook?” You whisper, dark eyes wide and unsure. With hooded eyes, he groans and kisses you, and you feel his moans vibrating through your body. He’s so close- he can feel himself starting to come undone, and with another few pumps, he comes all over your hand. Some of his cum splatters on his belly but he pays it no mind, only focusing on regulating his breaths. Without thinking, you lick at the tips of your fingers and swallow the little bit of his cum that landed on your hands.

“I’ll go get a tissue to clean you up,” You whisper, searching for your shirt. When you find it, you stand up on shaky legs, only for him to yank you back towards the bed.

“Jungkook,” You scold lightly, and he presses his face into your belly.

“You believe me when I say you’re my dream girl,” Jungkook murmurs, ignoring your noise of protest. He looks up at you with bright, sparkling eyes. You swallow nervously, unable to handle the sudden bubbling of adoration you hold for this man.

“Put your boxers on, Jeon,” You mumble, pushing yourself off of him. You hear him laugh fondly. He knows you too well, he knows you’re repeating his words in your head. You emerge from the bathroom, looking a little unsure but still determined. Your hands tremble a little as you attempt to clean him up and he covers your hand with his own to guide you. Jungkook watches you flit around the room before standing up and tugging his boxers on.

He stands up and wraps his arms around your waist, his hands dipping under your shirt. Being in his arms immediately calms you down in gentle waves. He’s become such a calming pillar, a welcomed force in your life. You don’t think even your wildest, most romantic dreams could have ever conjured up someone like him.

Maybe he’s your dream boy, too.

Jungkook drops a kiss to your cheek, walking you back to the bed and laying you on top of it. He pulls the covers up over both of you and is half on top of you. You lean in for a kiss, stars shining in your eyes as you look at him. His legs tangle with yours when he meets your lips and pulls you in close.

“Goodnight,” You whisper when you pull away, “I think you’re my dream boy that I didn’t know I was dreamin’ about.”

With that, you turn your head so he doesn’t see how flustered you are. Your cheeks meet the cool material of your pillow and you pretend not to hear his low chuckle. He only squeezes your waist and murmurs a soft ‘goodnight’ to you.

You’d submitted your application for the associate director position that Hae-Ri had recommended you to apply to. You’d already had the first round of interviews, with the person who would be your direct manager and with Hae-Ri herself. And then you had another interview with Hyo-Jin.

You felt at ease and it felt more like a conversation than an actual interview. Which Jungkook and Jin tell you is because you made the smart decision to get to know them both months ago, before you decided you wanted a shift in your career.

But then Hae-Ri dropped the bombshell on you after the series of interviews. To be in the position, she recommended you finish your masters program at the graduate school you dropped out of (or any grad school that had the same degree). She said the company would pay for it and you could do it while you worked.

But still. It left a sour, angry taste in your mouth.

Jungkook knows, somewhere in the back of his mind. That the words that are about to spill out of his mouth are going to upset you. But he says them anyway, because he thinks you need to hear them-

“If Hae-Ri said that she had a spot for you if you went back to school while working for her,” Jungkook says slowly, “Then isn’t it a no brainer? Your boss sucks, you complain about him and you deserve-”

“Back to school?” You scoff, “Everyone’s gonna be so much younger than me-”

“What does that matter? It’s just a year, and you’ll have your masters degree! Yeah, it’ll be hard to do it with work but you can-”

“I don’t wanna go back!” You exclaim (maybe a little childishly), and cross your arms over your chest. Annoyance seeps into you and you try your best not to get irritated at Jungkook. You know there is truth in his words but you don’t want to hear it just yet.

You’re not ready to face school again. You’re not ready to be at the same place that you had found out Appa had passed away. You’re not ready. Or are you?

“Why not! You don’t need to go back right away, Hae-Ri said-”

“I know what she said,” You say sharply, pinching the bridge of your nose with your brows furrowed, “You don’t need to repeat to me what she said, Jungkook.”

“I don’t understand,” Jungkook says flatly.

You start to notice his eyes losing its usual warmth, reminding you of the days when he would look at you so coldly.

You shiver. He instinctively reaches for you and you let him hold you close for a minute.

But the words come tumbling out of you, your cheeks blazing and ears burning, before you can stop them.

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” You mutter and he drops his hand from your waist as if he’s been burned.

Ice crawls through your veins, dousing you in something cold and unforgiving. You’re hurting him (again), and you can’t stop yourself. You can hardly stand yourself.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jungkook whispers, looking a little lost and a little heartbroken.

“It means you wouldn’t understand being too unable to take care of yourself to go to school,” You say, eyes narrow and jaw steeled, “It means everything’s come easy to you, Jungkook- fucking school, this fucking job-”

“That’s not fucking fair,” Jungkook says with a frown, “You’re deflecting and you’re being mean-”

You laugh. Mirthlessly. The hollowness seeping into your eyes makes Jungkook’s skin crawl.

“That’s me, baby. All I’m good at is deflecting and being mean. You haven’t caught on yet?”

“Stop,” Jungkook says firmly, hurt seeping into his voice as he levels his watery gaze at you, “You’re pushing me away. Stop it, baby.”

“Am I wrong?” You sneer, pressing your nails into your biceps. It hurts. You’re hurting him, it’s hurting you and you can’t stop running your mouth. You can’t stop the acid on your tongue or the daggers in your eyes.

You’re reacting this way just from the mere mention of going back to school. Pathetic.

“You have an opportunity to move ahead and you’re being stubborn about it because you don’t want to go back to school? I’m sure there are a lot of fucking hard memories associated with grad school but don’t take that out on me for wanting better for you,” Jungkook says coldly. While his eyes are icy, you still see the shine of unshed tears in them.

“I’m not being stubborn-”

“From all of this, that’s your response? That you’re not being stubborn?” Jungkook struggles not to raise his voice at you, feeling his chest burn with hurt.

“What else do you want me to say, Jungkook?” You throw your hands up in frustration, “I can’t make you understand-”

“I’m not telling you to make me understand,” Jungkook says, “I’m telling you to consider your future and your capabilities, you’re the one who fucking complains about work all the time-”

“Oh, well, sorry that we can’t be everyone’s fucking golden boy at work-”

“If you’re not gonna do anything about it, then don’t fucking complain-”

“Seriously? I can’t complain to my boyfriend now?”

“You’re missing the point, baby,” Jungkook sighs in irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I can’t talk to you right now, not when you refuse to listen, and when you’re being spiteful.”

“W-what? What does that mean?” You say, nearly all of the fire extinguished from your belly at his words. He starts to put his jacket on, unable to look you in the eyes because if he does, he knows he’ll cry.

“W-wait, Jungkook,” You mumble, tugging his hand but he pulls it back as if you’ve burned him again, “Baby-”

“I can’t-” He squeezes his eyes shut, not noticing a few tears leak out. Your heart breaks in front of you- clearly you were too wrapped up in your own spiral of defense to realize how much your words were hurting him. “I don’t wanna be around you right now. Not if you’re gonna hurt me like this.”

“I’m-”

“I know you didn’t mean it, but you said it for a reason,” Jungkook says. His words make you tear up. “We can talk when you figure out why.”

“Jungkook,” You mumble, wanting to touch him but afraid he’ll reject you again, “Wait, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

He looks at you long and hard, heart cracking a little bit at the sight of your sad eyes. But you did this and you need to figure out why you were so defensive over going back to school. He deserves better than you lashing out at him for the mere mention of it. He knows it and you know it.

Jungkook wants to kiss your tears away, but he’s hurting, too.

You want to ask for a kiss, for a text when he gets home. But you don’t, and he’s almost out of the front door before he turns on his heel and brushes his lips over your hair.

You feel salty tears drop from your eyes with his touch as he leaves you with an unspoken ultimatum.

You end up texting Jungkook an hour after he left your house, just wanting to make sure he got home safely. It takes him ten minutes from when you sent the text for him to respond with a simple ‘yes’ and you’re too nervous to text him anything other than a simple ‘okay’.

You hold your head in your hands and groan to yourself, rubbing your temples.

How could you say the things you said to him so easily, without regard for how it might hurt him? Just because the topic of school always set you off- and it always has for the last five years and change. No matter how much time has gone by, how far you’ve come in therapy… there’s always something.

You bury yourself under your covers and sniffle, finally letting yourself cry. A hole starts to unzip inside your chest and all you want to do is bury yourself in it. Your words to him, to the man who always has treated you with nothing but kindness and smiles, ring heavy in your ears.

He’s too good for you. He’s too good for you- he’s too golden and good for you. You’ll only bring him down, won’t you? With all of this baggage that he didn’t sign up for. There was no reason for you to verbally spit in his face like that.

His cold, hurt eyes are haunting. You can’t believe you put that look on his face. You’ve been on the receiving end of it because of your own actions too many times now.

It makes your heart ache and it makes you cry harder into your pillow. You don’t know how long it is that you lay there, but at some point, Grandma crawls into your bed with you and holds your head in her lap. She rubs your back as you cry and sniffle your heart out.

By the time Grandma gently coaxes you to tell her what happened, your chest hurts and your eyes are puffy and rimmed red. She only sighs and lays with you in silence, until she sighs again in that way that you know she’s going to voice her opinion to you.

“He only wants you to have a future that you deserve, even if that means confronting things you don’t want to confront,” Grandma says wisely, “Even if you don’t want to hear it for him.”

“I know. Shit, I know. I hurt him, I hurt him bad,” You mumble, fresh tears pooling in your eyes at the thought of his big, brown eyes looking at you in that heartbroken way.

Another forlorn sigh. “You can fix it. Just talk to him, sweetheart.”

“I know. I will. I don’t think he wants to talk to me right now. I think I should have a therapy appointment first,” You groan, rubbing your eyes, “I don’t know why the thought of school sets me off so easily. And Kook is the last person… I hate that I hurt him.”

“I think you know why the thought of school sets you off,” Grandma says, giving you a knowing look.

It takes you a few days of self reflection (and actively not spiraling into the very tempting black hole of self loathing) to finally understand your reaction to Jungkook suggesting you go back to school.

It’s not like you haven’t had a similar explosive reaction before- Jin has always tiptoed about it with you. And Grandma has stopped bringing it up because you always shut down when the topic arises.

Perhaps now is a good time to examine why- after all, you’d only hurt your boyfriend’s feelings so much that he can barely stand to speak to you apparently. You both have been speaking normally, sharing chaste kisses when you can but you can tell he’s holding back a little, to give you both the space you need.

It’s only been a few days but you’re so sad without him. Knowing that you hurt him the way you did.

Jungkook feels like he overreacted a bit. He doesn’t want you to figure this out alone- he didn’t mean to just leave. But he couldn’t stand it, he couldn’t stand how… mean you were being. Mostly, he couldn’t stand how he knew you were doing it on purpose, to get him to drop the topic.

He hopes you can come to an understanding with yourself. But he wants you to lean on him when you need to as well.

So when you text him asking if you can come over later that evening, he immediately says yes.

You don’t text Jungkook when you arrive, only knocking at his door. He greets you with surprised eyes and pulls you inside immediately, pulling you into a tight hug right away.

He feels as if it’s been forever since he held you last.

“Hi, honey,” You mumble, feeling tired with longing, “These are for you.”

It’s a bouquet of some of his favorite flowers, his favorite purples and pinks in your hands and he wants to kiss you in gratitude, but he follows your lead.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Jungkook replies and takes your bag after putting the flowers in a vase and takes your hand, leading you to his bedroom. You feel a little nervous, afraid of how much you might have hurt him. Afraid of what he thinks of you now.

But he pulls you into his arms and cradles your face in his hands, the tips of his fingers melting into the warmth of your skin. Your eyes well up with tears for no reason and it stuns you that this man affects you to this degree. Maybe you should be a little more surprised, but you’re not. Not really.

“Hi, baby,” He says quietly and your heart seizes. Jungkook says your name again and pulls you into his chest for another longer hug and you hum into the warmth of his torso. Your hands are hesitant, yearning to touch his arms, his chest, his face. But you have a lot you want to say before any of that so you pull away reluctantly and sit on his bed.

“C’mon, let’s lay,” Jungkook murmurs, pushing his black and grey duvet and squeezing your hand. You feel a little lightheaded but you follow his lead, relaxing in his embrace as he cuddles you from behind. His chin is hooked over your shoulder, arms tight around your waist, lips brushing over your neck. You hold his tattooed forearm, mindlessly drawing lines and circles over his skin.

“I have to say something,” You finally mumble after a few minutes and turn in his arms to face him. His touch is never too far, always around you- always gravitating to you and making you feel warm and safe.

“Okay,” Jungkook says, eyes wider than you’ve possibly ever seen him. You can’t help but want to kiss him, but you hold back. Just until you say what you need to say.

His hands are soothing over your back as he encourages you. So you tell him- you tell him how your last therapy appointment went. You tell him how you’ve reacted this way to anyone who bothered to bring school up to you whether it’s Jin or Grandma. You tell him how the thought of graduate school instantly takes you back to the day you were in class and you received a phone call from the hospital telling you that your father had passed away.

You tell him how sometimes it feels like you’re living in a movie, a never-ending reel of the worst thing to happen in your near 30 years of life. But…

“It doesn’t feel so terrible these days,” You murmur, “It feels like an ache most times. But not as overwhelming as before… I think maybe I didn’t- I didn’t handle my grief in the best way. And it took me this long to realize it.

“You know, I started realizing it when I saw you that first day. In the office. When I was such a bitch to you-”

Jungkook stops the self-deprecating spill of your lips with a chaste kiss.

“You… you’ve changed me in a lot of ways, Jungkook. And I know we haven’t been together all that long,” You whisper, your voice choked and low, “I always want to be better for you, with you-”

You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut as your throat closes up. This is hard for you, to bare your heart out like this. But if there’s anyone you want to be vulnerable for, it’s Jungkook.

“What I’m trying to say is… you’re right. I can’t keep living in the past when I have opportunities to be better and it’ll be hard work to dissect those feelings but… I want to do it. And I’m sorry for what I said, for taking all of that out on you. You didn’t deserve that-”

“I’m sorry, too,” Jungkook murmurs, surprising you, “For telling you that you shouldn’t complain. Of course you should complain. And I want to be the one you complain to. I’m sorry for just… leaving when you were clearly going through something.”

“Jungkook, no,” You shake your head and push his hair back, thumbs gentle over his cheeks, “If you need space from me or for anything… you never need to feel bad or guilty for that.”

“Okay,” He says almost shyly, “I know it must have been hard to talk about this. So, I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah, but… I want to make this work with you more than I’m afraid of facing those memories and fears. And just in general, I mean, I just want to try to be better. And you’re worth it, Koo-”

He holds your face in his hands, eyes drawn to yours- stars meeting stars and you sink into his sheets at the calm, welcoming fire in his gaze. His lips are on yours before you can blink, swallowing any potential noise of protest that might come out of your mouth.

It’s only been a few days but you missed Jungkook, you missed his warm smile, the heat of his hands, the comfort of his broad shoulders and the way he fits against you. His nose is pressed to your neck, large hands instantly floating under your shirt to feel as much of you as he can.

“Koo,” You mumble, pushing lightly at his chest, “Are we okay? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook mumbles, pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth. He tastes a bit like his mango chapstick (his current favorite). He leaves his lips near yours, pressing his cheek to yours as much as he can. You thread your fingers through his hair, dancing along his scalp and he sighs contentedly. “We’re okay and I’m okay. I wanna be here with you while we get through this together. Are you okay?”

You hum in agreement and wrap a leg around his waist, suddenly feeling very, very tired. His shirt is loose in your grip- he can tell how exhausted you are. Because he’s exhausted, too. Jungkook only holds you close under his covers and waits for your breaths to even out before falling asleep, too.

When August comes around, the final workshop for the big submission does, too. The last workshop will take place in Tokyo, which you’re excited about. Because you and Jungkook had decided to go to Tokyo to spend the weekend together. Meaning you’d be leaving on Friday evening to reach Tokyo around 9:30 PM.

You’d made sure Grandma would be okay, insisting that she call you or call Seokjin if anything happened. She scoffs at you but reassures you that she will. She says she’ll be spending most of her time with her close friends in the area, anyway.

You’ve only been dating Jungkook for four or five months now, and teetering on the edge of something more for maybe six months. You wonder if it feels too fast- the speed with which you open your bleeding heart up to him should scare you, but it doesn’t. It feels natural with him.

You’ve both voiced your concerns to each other- fear that you were moving fast and would tire of each other. Or that you were moving too fast to properly assess your feelings.

But both of you agreed that you both felt comfortable and trusted each other enough to speak up if you were uncomfortable. So traveling together for a weekend didn’t feel terribly out of your comfort zone.

You were excited to be with him completely alone, too. Without the stress of work or Taehyung or Grandma to hear you.

Jungkook thinks you both need time alone, too. To see how you’d work as a pair.

You’d taken it upon yourself to plan a few things around Tokyo for the weekend. You wanted to take him to a few places that Appa used to take you to. Maybe it was too much for a fresh relationship, but you want him to see the parts of you that grew up here, too.

You feel incredibly exposed, your heart and soul on display as you hold Jungkook’s hand in yours. Old memories of Appa and of this park spill from your lips fondly and Jungkook only listens with wide, sparkling eyes. Vulnerability drips from your tongue and he swallows it up eagerly.

A light breeze ruffles through his hair and you stop him mid-stride to stand by the lake. The clear water glimmers with the sun, blue and purple petals floating over the water slowly. You lean over the railing and Jungkook encases you with his arms on either side of you, his chest pressed to your back.

“We used to fly kites here,” You say wistfully, “Right over there-”

You point at the other side of the lake where trees shroud the corners with brightly colored leaves. “And always get food from the food carts right outside the park.

“And this is where I was that one time we were here for the workshop. I came here before that happy hour, too.”

Jungkook kisses your cheek and you lean back, letting your head rest over his shoulder as his arms snake around your waist. There’s nobody around, even though it’s relatively early in the morning. The only sounds that can be heard are your own breaths, and the softness of the birds chirping and the wind whistling.

“The happy hour when the night before I hurt your feelings,” You murmur, “I’m sorry I said everything I said to you. And I’m so sorry I was so… mean and bitter to you in the beginning. You didn’t deserve that.”

You turn in his arms, wanting to see him, and cup his cheek. Letting your thumb trace the mole below his lip and over his cheeks.

“I’m scared,” You confess, “I’m scared that I’ll ruin you and break your heart. Because I’m still in pieces sometimes. I like you so much but shouldn’t I seek love from someone else only after I learn to love myself?”

“I can love you as you learn,” Jungkook murmurs, kissing your forehead, “Self-love doesn’t mean you don’t have to accept love from others, baby.”

Another strong breeze tickles your face, caressing Jungkook almost tenderly. “Sometimes I like to pretend like winds like that are Appa and he’s saying hello,” You say sheepishly with a watery laugh, “I think he likes you.

“I’m scared, Jungkook. But I want to be scared with you,” You exhale, tears dotting your eyes and a small smile on your face.

Jungkook pulls you close to his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly and rubbing your back soothingly. “‘M gonna take care of your heart, princess. You’re always safe with me.”

You immediately burst into tears, because you trust him with your soft heart and you believe him. He only smiles at you, tears rolling down his own cheeks as he thumbs yours away. Jungkook kisses you softly, squeezing your cheeks together and you can taste the saltiness of your tears on your tongue. You deepen the kiss quickly, pouring all of your trust and respect for him onto your lips.

He drinks you up easily and bends his knees a bit to scoop you by your thighs and lift you up, even spinning you a bit as his lips stay pressed to yours. You pull away first with a dazed, watery giggle and push his hair away from his forehead to press a kiss there.

You feel weightless and airy in his arms, your hands steady on his shoulders as he spins with you.

You could love this man- you already love his wide, crinkly-eyed smile, the way the tips of his ears turn pink when you fluster him, the way he is so considerate and charming.

“Jungkook,” You mumble, pushing his hair back again, “Take me back to our hotel, baby.”

Jungkook can’t keep his hands off of you, not with the dim lights of the hotel lobby making your hair shine, not when you stand in front of him in the elevator and lean into him as his arm lazily wraps around your waist to pull you closer. His nose tickles your neck as he drops kisses to your cheek, smiling against your skin when you laugh lightly.

The elevator dings. You both stumble out, holding hands as if you’re love drunk on each other and it’s not 7:30 in the morning.

You push him against the door once you key yourself inside, impatient and hands wandering. A choked noise escapes his lips but it melts into a moan when you press into him.

Jungkook can’t keep his hands off of you, not with the way you breathe his name out as if it’s spicy honey on your tongue. Your legs remain wrapped around his waist as he holds you by your thighs, his hands digging into them. You’re secure in his arms- the fact that he can hold you up so steadily, so easily has you rolling your hips into his and moaning into his mouth unashamedly.

“Shit,” Jungkook groans into your ear, a little desperate, “I want you so bad, baby.”

You hum in agreement, lips pressed to the spot behind his ear. The spot that you had quickly discovered in your relationship that he liked. He stumbles for half a second before dropping you to the large bed and hovering over you.

Jungkook impatiently tugs at your blouse, trying his best to unbutton it as carefully as possible. He curses under his breath, shooting you a playful glare when you giggle at him. He unclasps your bra easily and once you shuck it off to the side, his mouth is warm and wet against your bare chest. Your giggles turn into soft sighs of his name.

Ever since he had realized how much you like the feeling of his mouth on your tits, he couldn’t get enough. You’re so sensitive, almost all the time, and this time is no different.

You always try to push him away but coax him back for more.

Your small hands are ghosting over his chest, glazing over the ridges and dips of his abs and of his pecs. You tug on his shirt and pull it up and over his head, tossing it to the side to join your own clothes. His fingers are heated as you lightly scratch over the trail of hair dipping into his shorts from his navel, but you only tease him and palm him through his clothes.

You’re so impatient. You unbutton his shorts clumsily and gently yank his boxers and his shorts down his thighs, always surprised that he’s almost completely hard already. But it doesn’t take much for him to get hard with you.

You spit into your hands and wrap a hand around his cock, lazily stroking him.

Jungkook’s eyes are wide, breaths staggered at the sight of your freshly painted glossy lilac nails around his cock.

“Koo,” You mumble, “So big, Koo…”

Your face is warm as you meet his darkened, lust blown eyes. Jungkook catches the sliver of determination in your own eyes as you continue to stroke him- you’re determined to have him in your mouth.

The last few times you’ve tried haven’t gone so well- every time you’d tried taking him in your mouth, you’ve always coughed and gagged heavily to the point of your eyes watering and Jungkook felt bad and told you that you didn’t have to blow him.

“You don’t- oh, baby,” Jungkook groans, biting his bottom lip and struggling not to close his eyes when you take him past your lips. You try your best to control your breathing through your nose and alternate between teasing him with kitten licks and stroking him.

You look up at him from your spot on your knees and take him a little deeper, just like he taught you. Your eyes are already watering, vision starting to go blurry but you’re nothing if not determined. Your hands are loose around his strong, muscular thighs and you squeeze.

“Like that, princess,” Jungkook mumbles, watching you with half lidded eyes, trying to stop himself from fucking your mouth.

But maybe you want that.

“More tongue, baby,” Jungkook encourages, “Don’t forget to breathe through your nose.”

You hum around his cock, the sound inadvertently causing him to thrust into your mouth. But you squeeze his thighs in encouragement, wordlessly telling him that he can fuck your mouth if he wants to.

“Mmm, you feel so good,” Jungkook moans, hand cradling your cheek and wiping a stray tear, “Look so pretty like this…”

“You can take me, princess,” Jungkook murmurs, and you take a few more inches of him down your throat without gagging, “Good girl…”

Your belly flips at his praise and you’re eager for more to spill from his pretty, reddened lips. Jungkook curses, his voice low as his thighs tremble with each stroke of your hand and each pull of your mouth. He can’t get enough of you like this, you on your knees with wide, watery eyes just for him. Just for him.

His dream girl.

Jungkook abruptly pushes you away from his cock, saliva trailing from your lips with a pop! You look at him in confusion but he unbuttons your shorts quickly and tugs your panties away, hardly appreciating the new pretty purple panties you’d bought specifically for this trip. You hardly have an opportunity to pout about it, before he sharply kisses you, molding his hips to yours.

He swipes his hand over your pussy, getting a feel for your wetness. You’re so wet already, just from kissing him and from having his cock in your mouth.

Jungkook groans into your neck, biting your skin lightly and you gasp when he slides into your wet warmth easily. Wrapping your legs around his waist and reaching behind him to squeeze his ass, you kiss moans of his name into his heated skin.

“Koo,” You mumble raspily, breath hitching when he stills inside you, “I want you-”

“Gonna take care of you, my dream girl,” Jungkook says softly, cupping your face. Your heart stutters in your chest at the sincerity of his kiss, the stars in his eyes and the adoration in his touch.

Something sweet is at the tip of your tongue but you swallow it down, instead losing yourself in his touch along your hips, your tits, your thighs. Anywhere he can reach you.

Jungkook presses his forehead to yours and rocks into you, again and again and again.

“One more, princess,” Jungkook says hoarsely, thumbing away your stray tears, “Gimme one more-”

You whine but it quickly turns into a broken moan of his name when he gently rolls his hips into yours and rubs your clit with his thumb. Your eyes are glazed over but focused on him, a thin sheen of sweat coated over your soft skin.

“I can’t…” You mumble, wrapping your arm around his shoulders and turning your face to the side. But you both know that you can. Jungkook’s eyes dip to the place where you’re both connected in between your legs and marvels at your puffy pussy. You widen your legs further despite the slight soreness already settling in for him to get a better look. His fingers ghost over your pussy and you shiver at the oversensitivity that his mere touch brings.

“Yes, baby, you can,” Jungkook says softly, “Nice and slow, just like this.”

“O-okay,” You reply, tipping your chin up for a kiss. You feel like jelly, like you’re floating on a cloud, with Jungkook right by your side. When you finally do cum, with soft, sinful murmurs of his voice in your ear, it’s quiet and warm. Leaving you buzzing from head to toe.

You clench around him, the feeling of his cock inside you becoming almost too much to bear. But you don’t want him to pull out, just yet. After all, your baby hasn’t cum and you can feel how hard he is.

“Koo,” You murmur, threading your nails up and down his very defined back, “Baby, you feel so good, make me feel so good…”

You won’t lie, sometimes the dirty talk feels clumsy to you as it comes out of your mouth. You think Jungkook is better at it than you are, and you’ve told him that, too. He only denies it.

You pull him down closer to you, your breath fanning across his cheeks. You squeeze around him despite your own sensitivity and he groans out loud, eyes closed. Jungkook sits you up and brings you into his lap with his cock still inside of you, throbbing with the need to cum.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, fingers gentle against his scalp. You lean forward and nip his earlobe, giggling when his hips stutter. Your mischievous touch dips down his chest, scratching at his navel.

Jungkook abruptly cums into the condom, possibly harder than he ever has, with your gentle, feathery touches and your soft murmurs in his ear. He moans your name and holds you close, arms tight around you and keeping you plastered against his chest as he rides his high out.

“Holy shit,” You breathe with a slow smile. Jungkook hums and lays you on your back, laying with you for a second before pulling out of you and discarding the condom on shaky legs. You’d make a comment about how cute his ass looks, but you’re too tired to. You get cozy under the covers, watching him flit around the room with sleepy eyes.

It’s hardly ten AM and you’re ready to go back to sleep.

You must have drifted off at some point, because Jungkook is wrapped around you, his head on your chest. He’d cleaned you up, too and you drowsily kiss his forehead before slipping back to sleep.

After all, the rest of the weekend is still yours. Work doesn’t begin in Tokyo until Monday.

tags: @koo-zy

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook fluff

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jisungsplatforms · 4 years ago

Text

[Chapter IV: You F*cking Minx!]

Pairing: Producer/Music Major! Han Jisung x Photographer! fem! reader

Genre: NSFW! Smut; non idol au, college au, strangers to lovers

Warnings: Mature Content! strong language, masterbation (m&f) (only implied this chapter), discussion of kinks, good old nudes & teasing Jisung ;)

Chapter Word Count: 2.8k (lol minus the emojis cause APPARENTLY, they count on docs)

Taglist: @hyunjeongins @seungstarss @es-kay-zee @hyunjinsplaything @formidxble @freckledquokka @lbxgsunshine @cartierbin @solistired @rainbowmagicpixecorn @http-hyxnjxn (want to be added? send an ask or a dm! <3)

You were starting to think that touching yourself every night was rather unhealthy...

It’s been over a week since you and Jisung met—a week since the both of you started your unspoken arrangement. Breathing heavily, you laid limply on your untidy bed, the only source of light available was the moon’s rays peeking through your curtains. The lower half of your body was completely rid of any clothing; the only thing covering your skin were splotches of your essence. Your phone then lit up with a notification from ‘Hannie Bear’.

1 new message(s) from Hannie Bear 🍯🧸

Hannie Bear 🍯🧸: u okay baby? do u wanna sleep now?

Using your unsoiled hand, you grabbed your phone and typed as best as you could.

Me: Nah, I still have a little bit of energy left in me

Hannie Bear 🍯🧸: really? cool lol

let’s chat for a bit

Me: Sure. Just hold on for a sec

You sat up and wiped your hand on the towel laid under you. Swinging one of your legs off the bed, you used your toes to pick up your garments from the floor, and quickly put them on. Two new notifications from Jisung appeared on your screen. You read his messages as you threw your dirted towel onto the floor.

Hannie Bear 🍯🧸: aight.

actually you know what? just call me please!

You laid back down and tapped on his icon, which now consisted of a selfie of himself from when he ‘needed to use’ your phone a few days ago, at the top of your screen to switch to the call screen. Your phone rang several times before Jisung answered. Through the phone, you could hear the faint sound of rustling and a groan.

“Hey,” he greeted with a raspy voice. You instinctively smiled when you heard him.

“Hey.”

Jisung cleared his throat before speaking. “So I was wondering, since— ah wait. Sorry, my throat’s kinda...”

“No, go ahead. I don’t mind.”

“Thanks,” he chuckled. “You should get some water too! You know, cause— yeah. After all that.”

You laughed, heart warming at his consideration. “Yeah. Thanks!” Bringing your phone with you, you walked to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water. You set the call to speaker mode before putting your phone down to drink. Hearing the hilarious way Jisung took big gulps of water almost made you choke on your water.

He let out an over-exaggerated ‘ha!’ and said with a funny voice, “Refreshing!” Hearing your snort made Jisung smile. “Okay, so now that we’re both hydrated, I’ll tell you what I’ve been thinking.” You hummed to acknowledge him. “So, you know how we’ve been doing this for almost two weeks now, right?”

“Yeah…?” You picked up your phone to go back to your room.

“Okay. Well, we never really talked about, you know, things that we like.”

“Things that we like?”

“Yeah! You know what I mean?”

‘Huh?’ You thought about it for a few seconds before realizing what he was talking about. “Ohh. Do you mean our kinks?”

“There! That.”

You scoffed playfully. “I knew this conversation was bound to happen.”

“Well, then spill, girl!” Jisung said flamboyantly. “Don’t keep me waiting!”

You giggled. “Weirdo,” you whispered, softly grunting when you plopped onto your bed. “Where do you want me to start?”

“I don’t know. I guess just tell me like, what role you like playing in bed, or if you don’t even use roles at all.”

“Well, we’ve masterbated together long enough for you to know that I don’t mind either; sex is sex and it should be enjoyable, whether or not there are sub/dom roles...but I do like being submissive.”

“Oh, right. Nice,” he snickered, “Okay, now what? Vanilla or Kinky?”

“Kinky, all that way.” Jisung wanted to laugh at how fast that answer came out. “Of course, there’s nothing wrong vanilla sex, in fact, it’s very much appreciated in this household.”

“Ahh. Someone of culture. I respect that.” The both of you chuckled. “So, what are some things you want to be done to you?”

“Like, receiving?” Jisung hummed in confirmation. “I guess I like being marked? And being praised and using pet names, but of course, who doesn’t?”

“I feel you, I feel you,” he nodded on the other side of the phone. “I like that too.”

“I also like being tied up.”

Jisung sat up, wide eyed. “Rope-bunny?!”

You guffawed, hearing him so shocked like that. “What? Surprising? Remember, no kink shaming!”

“No no! It’s not like that it’s just-” he sighed through puffed cheeks, “wow, that’s fucking hot.”

“Thanks,” you giggled. “But that’s only the beginning.”

“Shit, there’s more? Holy fuck— please tell me.”

“Overstimulation & edging, I think that’s fucking hot too.” You could hear Jisung’s breath hitch on the phone, making you smirk. “I also really like choking and being able to see myself getting fucked; I think there’s a name for it, but I forgot.”

Not hearing his reply, you snorted before continuing. “And I have the biggest breeding kink ever. You know what I say: the messier the sex, the better.” You stopped when you heard Jisung take a deep breath.

“Whoa, Y/n. I-” he signed. “Let me calm down before I pop another boner ‘cause of you.”

You felt a surge of pride run through you. “What? Too much?”

“Oh, fuck no. Just insanely hot.”

You laughed, adjusting yourself to lay on your stomach. “Too bad. There was still a lot more I wanted to say,” you grinned. “You should tell me what you like then, baby. I need to know how I could please you too.”

“Hmm,” he thought to himself for a while. “So you already know that I like filthy, kinky sex too and that I usually take up the dom role but if I have to be honest. I’ve always wanted to try subbing.”

“Really?” you smiled evilly. ‘How interesting’

“Yup. I mean, I like being babied, so I think I’d really like it.”

“Oh? Would you like to try it sometime, baby boy?”

The line went dead silent for a while, filling you with worry. All of a sudden, when you were about to ask Jisung if he was okay, he whimpered. “Please?” he muttered, and you swore you could already see him pouting. Now it was your turn to take a deep breath.

“Hold on, baby boy. We both just finished touching ourselves not too long ago. Let’s do this another time.”

“Aww...Boo. You’re no fun,” Jisung’s usual cheeky self returned.

You rolled your eyes. “Sorry, but I already came 3 times tonight. Let my vagina rest, Sung.”

“Fair,” he laughed. “Does that mean I get to sub next time?”

“Hm… If you’re nice to me, then yes.”

“Oh baby, you know i’ll be the best behavior if it means getting topped by you.”

Instead of feeling horny, you only felt playfulness behind his words. “Good. I’ll be sure to give my baby a treat tomorrow then.” Jisung cheered giddily, fueling your own amusement. “By the way, what’s with the kink talk? I mean, I knew it was gonna come eventually but still.”

You couldn’t see it, but Jisung shrugged at your question. “Well, if we’re gonna be together, then I need to know everything about you that you enjoy.” Your face dropped, your chest swelling in adoration and alarm. Not hearing a response from you made him panic. “Uh- unless you don’t wanna be a thing! That-that’s fine too...i guess, w-whatever! I just—!”

Jisung stopped when he heard you giggle. “You’re so cute, Sung.” You softly said in content. “It’s getting late, baby. I’ll see you in the morning, hm?”

“Y-yeah! See you in Jung’s class, baby!”

You ended the call then slid your phone under your pillow. Pulling your blanket all the way up to your chin, you squirmed around until you were comfortable enough to sleep. The only thing in your mind was Jisung and how much your relationship with him developed way too fast. It was a little...frightening for your fragile heart.

2nd Period; Mrs. Jung’s Renaissance Literature class. Probably the most boring class ever. Everyday, you regret ever signing up for it.

You begrudgingly walked to class, purposely taking small, slow steps so you don’t have to be there on time. However, as boring as the class is, the only reason why you find it tolerable is because it is the only class you share with Jisung. Looking up, you found yourself in front of your Literature class, much to your dismay. Grumbling, you stepped inside the room to find Jisung already at his (now) usual place at the back of the class, right beside you. ‘Weird,’ you thought, seeing how it’s usually you who comes to class before him. Jisung looked up, feeling eyes on him from the front of the class, and smiled when he saw it was just you. He gestured for you to come over to him; your heart racing as you stepped closer to him.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted happily, watching you take your seat beside him.

“Hi, Sungie,” you replied, setting your camera bag onto the floor under your legs and taking your laptop out of your bag. Feeling Jisung staring at you, you tched jokingly. “Am I that attractive that you can’t keep your eyes off of me?” you laughed. What you didn’t expect, however, was Jisung’s blunt response.

“Yes.”

“O-oh? Uh…”

“I thought I made it clear that I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life,” he said truthfully, giving you a bright smile. Your eyes were wide, face heating up at his straight-forwardness. He threw you a flirty wink and chuckled, going back to sit up straight at his own seat. Flustered, you hid your face with your hoodie, tightening the drawstrings to further conceal your blush. From beside you, you could hear Jisung snort, trying not to laugh at you. Before you could scold him, the bell rang and Mrs. Jung entered the class.

Jisung’s drowsy eyes wandered the whole room for the umpteenth time. His ears only shut out the mundane information his instructor was teaching. Something about a Scottish poet named George Lauder being responsible for the advancement of the steel industry or whatever? ‘Man, what does that have to do with the renaissance era?’ It’s only been 30 minutes since the class started and he already wanted to get out of here. No matter how hard he tried focusing on the lesson, the words only went through one ear and out the other. Needless to say, it way too uninteresting for him to retain anything.

His eyes then traveled to your hunched form. He had to resist the urge to pull out his phone and take a picture of your cute face all scrunched up in concentration, your figure engulfed by the oversized purple hoodie you were wearing. In the midst of his ogling, Jisung felt a gentle kick on his right leg. His eyes focused to finally notice you side eyeing him. It was as if you were telling him ‘pay attention or else’. All he did was grin and continued gawking at you.

You rolled your eyes, deciding to not mind him and try paying attention to Mrs. Jung; even if you yourself thought the class was boring as hell. You then feel a warm hand on your left thigh. Since it was just Jisung, you shrugged his hand off of you and typed in the shared doc you both created just to talk in this class. You typed:

‘What are you doing?’

Leaning over to his own screen, Jisung read the message on his laptop then replied.

‘babe i’m sorry but i’m so fucking bored’

‘Me too, but you gotta pay attention, baby boy’

‘hmm i love it when you call me baby boy ;)’

You side-glanced him with a ‘are you serious?’ look while he merely smirked, wiggling his eyebrows as if it would seduce you.

‘Funny. Don’t you dare get horny in the middle of class, Han Jisung!’

‘:)’

Jisung made a quiet sputtering noise as he put his head down onto the table. From the corner of your eyes, you could see him fiddling his platform sneakers with his feet. You restrained yourself from laughing at him. He looked exactly like an annoyed kid on the verge of throwing a tantrum. You shook your head. ‘The poor man is really trying’

Sneakily sliding your phone into your pocket, you stood up from your seat, the chair making a slight screech, catching Jisung’s—as well several other students’— brief attention, to head to the front of the class. Signing your name into the ‘restroom log’, you briefly pointed to the door when you made eye contact with Mrs. Jung, and went to the restroom. You grinned to yourself, thinking about how Jisung would react to his little gift.

The painfully bored boy watched as you left the room. He pouted, his boredom only increased tenfold without you. He went back to his laptop, clicking on another tab to do something, when he felt his phone vibrate from his back pocket. He jolted. ‘Who the hell would text me while I’m in the middle of class?’ Jisung slowly took out his phone to check his notifications. Seeing your name on the screen, he stared in confusion.

‘Y/n? What’re you doing?’ Glancing to see if Mrs. Jung could see him, he unlocked his phone to read your message.

My baby 💘: Remember what I said last night?

Many thoughts, none of which were pg, raced through his mind. ‘What exactly are you talking about?’ He adjusted his keyboard to properly type with one hand.

Me: depends

are we talking about me subbing or your “gift”?

My baby 💘: Hmm sure. You’ll see 😉

Jisung nearly let out an audible ‘huh?’ because of your rather cryptic message. Not wanting to get caught, he hid his phone between his legs and waited for your next text. After almost a minute, this phone vibrated again. Big Mistake…

Strike 1!

‘God, Han Jisung, you fucking idiot!’ The shock unintentionally sent waves of pleasure between his legs, almost coaxing out a whimper from his mouth. He cleared throat, trying to ignore the erection that was threatening to pop up, and inconspicuously took his phone.

Strike 2!

If Jisung died at that very moment, then he wouldn’t even be mad. No regrets or anger whatsoever for his eyes was blessed with the most salacious photo of yourself. There you were, sweater pulled up to show off the lacy red bra that adorned your breasts—your arms deliberately squeezing them together to make them even more tempting than they already are—and pants pulled down enough to show a cheeky glimpse of the matching set of panties hugging your hips. Jisung swore he could feel his blood rushing to his dick and nose; he even went as far as wiping it in case he really did get a nosebleed.

‘Y/n, you minx...’’

Me: baby…

what you’re doing is very dangerous for the both of us

My baby 💘: Oh? Are you sure you didn’t forget what we talked about, baby boy

Jisung anxiously looked back and forth from his phone to his teacher. He covered his mouth when you sent another shameless nude to him. Now it was a picture of your hands cupping your breasts, your bra unclasped, threatening to slide off your shoulders. How you managed to take the photo was beyond Jisung’s comprehension. Though, now that he’s as turned on as a horny 13 year old boy on a porn site for the very first time, it’s safe to say that there was nothing on his mind except you, and you only.

He set his keyboard back to its default mode and put his head down, fingers hastily tapping on his phone to reply.

Me: come on baby

please don’t do this to me

i’m hard. i really popped a boner in the middle of class…

this is fucking embarrassing

Jisung just knew that you were laughing at him, finding great joy in his predicament. He subtly adjusted himself to do something about his hard-on. ‘So fucking embarrassing’ He blushed, biting his lip. He silently prayed to whatever deity out there that his erection was unnoticeable through his sweatpants; he was so grateful that you two sat at the back of the class. His phone buzzed again, it was another message from you.

Strike 3!

He’s out…

My baby 💘: It’s mommy for you today, baby boy 😉😉

Above was a picture of you...Bra hanging from your mouth...Your pearly teeth biting down on one of the straps...Pants off...Panties moved to the side...Showing off your dripping core to the camera...Your fingers threatening to slide inside your core…

Somebody please help this poor man. He might get a heart attack because of you. And if he doesn’t die from that, then it might be because of the rage of sexual frustration he felt when you came back with a seemingly innocent smile on your face. Jisung was just lucky nobody noticed his hard cock throbbing the rest of the session. More importantly, thank god Mrs. Jung is an oblivious old woman.

‘Y/n L/n, you FUCKING MINX!’

[PREVIOUS CHAPTER] 📱 [NEXT CHAPTER]

#stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz smut #han jisung smut #han jisung scenarios #han jisung imagines #han jisung x reader #Late Night Indulges

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your-eternal-muse · 4 years ago

Text

Kinda Wish She Were Dead

Heather Series Part 8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Bonus! Readers Card Confession Series Playlist

Summery: During a night out on the town with the girls, Reader see’s something she wasn’t supposed to.

Words: 3.7k (my longest yet!)

Warnings: Swearing, a few sexual innuendos, Cheating, Mentions of Alcohol, and a fabulous right hook.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Heather Carmichael, Spencer Reid x eventual Female!Reader

A/N: I’ve been waiting for this one....turn it up! Also, the song that inspired this chapter. For the meaning of the song, not that fucking boat scene.

~~~~

It’s hot.

Like “laying naked in the middle of your apartment with the air cranked and every fan blowing on you” hot.

I’m one of the lucky ones.

My old apartment was renovated to include central air a few years before I moved in.

Still, the humidity was smothering.

So why was I putting a full face of makeup on, knowing damn well I’m gonna sweat it off before the end of the night?

Because why the hell not?

It’s the first time I’ve made plans with the girls in months, and I deserve to feel pretty, even if only for an hour or two.

My therapist tells me I’m making progress.

And it finally feels like I am.

I don’t hate the day before it even starts when I wake up.

I hardly close my curtains anymore.

I’d like to say that with her help, everything went back to normal.

I go to work and come home. I hang out with my friends, water my potted plants. Talk to Spencer like I never confessed my love for him.

But it didn’t.

I haven’t really spoken to Spencer since the day I left.

I’ve wanted to.

I’ve wanted to tell him that I’m here. I’m still here. That I’m always going to be here.

That I care about him more than probably life itself.

Ever since I came back, we’ve had to work together, and we’ve had a few small conversations, but nothing like what we used to have.

I crave those conversations.

How we would bounce back and forth from idea to idea, topic to topic without so much as breaking a sweat.

The late night conversations about the probability of aliens, and life on the opposite side of the universe.

I crave him, and the intimacy he brought.

Lately though, he’s been coming to work with a sullen look on his face.

He shows up earlier, and stays later, drowning himself in his paperwork.

When her calls interrupt a caseload, he no longer eagerly picks up to hear what she has to say.

All I want to do is walk over and ask him how he’s doing. How the married life is treating him. If there’s anything I can do to help lift his spirits.

But I can’t.

I’d be overstepping a boundary I didn’t even know I created that night out on the balcony.

Knocking on my door snaps me out of my daze, and I quickly cap my lipstick, making my way towards my front door where my night stands, waiting.

JJ, Emily, and Penelope are waiting, big smiles and laughter bubbling from their lips.

I let the smile spread across my face.

“I just need to grab my shoes and then I’ll be ready.” I usher them into my hallway, running back to my bedroom to grab the pair of heels resting by my closet.

I sit on my bed, slipping them on with ease and grabbing my bag on my way out.

They all ooh and ahh when I step into the light of my kitchen, and JJ grabs my hand, twirling me in place so they can get a better look at my outfit.

“I almost forgot you had party attire, y/n.”

“God, I wish I had an ass like that. I’m older than you. That’s not fair.” Emily says, landing a playful slap against the fabric of my skirt.

“Oh stop it, you flatter me.” Once upon a time, the attention would have made me antsy. The voice in my head would whisper that they were lying to me, that they really thought I was the ugliest thing in existence.

That was then, and this is now. Now the confidence shines off of me like a spotlight.

“You deserve to be flattered, you beautiful goddess you.” Penelope says, her hands waving in the air.

I take a look in the new mirror that hangs in my hallway, and I can’t help but agree. The tight black skirt accentuates my curves, the low cut golden crop top that sticks to me like another skin puts the girls on display, and my heels give me legs for days.

I look damn good.

“Okay okay okay, pre-game selfie!” Penelope grabs her phone and holds up in front of her while we gather around.

She snaps the picture and within a few quick taps, a buzzing emits from my bag.

I dig my phone out, seeing the picture pop up in my notifications.

JJ has her arms wrapped around me, and I’m pressed to Penelope's side. Emily stands over us, one hand on JJ’s shoulder, the other on Penelopes.

I don’t think I could fake a smile like the one on my face even if I wanted to.

I save it to my phone.

~~~

If I thought being in my house, alone, with air conditioning was bad, then I shouldn't have even bothered coming out.

The bar, albeit small, was packed.

Even if there was a breeze, or any airflow at all, the combined body heat of the crowd would have swallowed it up.

I couldn’t really bring it in me to care all that much, though.

The dim lights and heat left my skin with a sexy shine, bringing attention to all the right places.

I could feel the eyes on me.

The ones belonging to men wanting to drown their sorrows in a woman like me, one who appears vulnerable, willing to go along for the ride.

It’s been a while, since I’ve had the attention of the opposite gender, especially this very specific kind of attention.

It feels good, in a way. To be wanted so openly. But it doesn’t mean jack to me, not if it’s not the pair of eyes I’ve been desperate to catch.

I should stop thinking about him.

It’s a girls night out. I don’t have to think, or worry about anything.

Besides, he’s probably busy doing other things. Thinking about me is the last thing on his mind.

I laugh and take a sip from the Shirley temple sitting in front of me, laughing as JJ recounts a story about will and a botched attempt at breakfast in bed.

I pick a cherry up from the fizzy drink, and bite the end off, relishing in the sweet flavor. I pop the stem in my mouth, twirling it around my tongue as I listen to the conversation, pulling it between my teeth and setting it down on the table in a knot.

“Oh my god. Did you just tie a cherry stem with your tongue?” Penelope is cheesing from the other side of the table, the bright pink straw of her margarita almost to her lips.

I laugh, holding it up for them to inspect.

“You know what that means.” Emily says, taking a sip from her own drink, before continuing her thought. “You, my friend, can give great head.”

A blush covers my cheek, but I cock an eyebrow. “Who told you?”

The three women burst into high pitched laughter, and I see Pen pull out her phone. She holds it up to me.

“Do it again. The internet needs to be blessed with this knowledge.”

I chuckle again, the spirit of the night enough to get me drunk off the energy. I grab another cherry from my drink, sucking the end into my mouth before popping it off, and swallowing it.

“Alright, we have one, untied cherry stem before us.” I hold out the stem for the camera to see. “Now watch as I tie it with no hands.” I stick out my tongue, placing it in the middle before closing my mouth.

I rest my elbows on the table, working my tongue around the stem, forcing it into submission to do exactly what I want.

Within 15 seconds, I pull it through my teeth, and hold up a tied cherry stem.

“Ta-da! Magic.” I place it on the table as they clap, smiles wide and goofy from their own alcoholic concoctions.

“She’s single people. And there’s a line forming so shoot your shot.” JJ is the one to speak to the camera, and I giggle, taking another sip.

Penelope brings her phone down, and within a minute my phone buzzes again, this time with the notification of the video being posted.

There are worse things to be posted on the internet about me.

“I never knew you could do that, y/n/n.” Pen says, taking a sip from her drink.

I run a hand through my hair, shrugging. “Didn’t think I needed to put it on my resume. It’s mostly a party trick I use when I like someone. I haven’t used it in years though.”

The unspoken question lingers on the air.

“No, I never showed Spencer. But I’m sure it’d blow his mind. The way that man applies math and logic to everything he does just solidifies the fact that I know he wouldn’t be able to do it.”

It’s been a while since I’ve joked about him openly, but it wasn’t forced. It didn’t hurt.

It was just a natural statement.

“Have you guys noticed that something’s up with him? He seems distant lately.” JJ says, leaning in closer so she doesn’t have to talk over the crowd.

“Okay, so it’s not just me.” I reply, playing with the straw in my drink.

“It’s gotta be something at home. I mean, he doesn’t even remotely act the way that he did when him and Heather first got together.” Emily's eyes look me up and down, reading my body language, but I’m done hiding.

I let the building anger ripple through me.

“He seems...sad. And not like, normal Reid sad where it has to do with his mom or something, no this is like..” she stops herself from continuing the sentence.

I finish it for her. “It’s like, me, sad.”

JJ sighs. “I hate to say it, but do you think it has anything to do with Heather?”

A glass shatters across the room, and like the red sea, the crowd parts.

Everything happens in no more than a couple seconds, but it feels like a lifetime.

Through the empty space, I see two people standing at the bar. The woman has her hands wound into the man's shirt, her body turned as she laughs at someone behind her, I’m assuming the one who dropped the glass.

The man has his hands gripped on her hips, smiling into her hair, before she turns back around, connecting their lips in the most disgusting kiss I have had the displeasure of witnessing.

The rage builds swiftly in my stomach and it pulses from my soul outward. The world’s tint changes and I see red.

“Even if it doesn’t right now, it will.”

When the hell did I stand up?

They stand with me, and I’m about to argue my point when Emily speaks. “You want something to record, Garcia?” She moves by me, fixing my hair, handing me her glass which holds a swig of her drink left. “Record this.”

I take it, downing it for a little liquid luck, and start for the bar, the three of them on my heels.

I profile him as best I can in the 20 seconds it takes to get through the now reforming crowd.

There’s a gold ring on his hand. His pants and shirt are dirty, and his boots are thick. He works in something having to do with construction, which means he’s probably done around 5 every night, and I know for a fact that it is way past that.

I walk up to them, grabbing her shoulder and pulling them apart, stepping in between them, getting face to face to him.

“Before you even think about laying a hand on me, my name is SSA Y/L/N of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the F.B.I. From the look of your clothes and the ring on your finger, I’m gonna go ahead and assume that your wife is waiting for you at home.”

His hand instinctively falls to his back pocket.

“And since you just reached for what I’m assuming is your phone, she’s called you multiple times tonight. She knows. Now, fuck off and maybe you can salvage things with her, but believe me when I say this,” His breath smells sour. “You aren’t even half the man that she’s married to.”

He opens his mouth to say something, looking from me, to Heather, to the three women surrounding her, keeping her from leaving, and the camera pointed directly at his face.

He looks back down to me, and huffs, stepping back and walking in the other direction.

For a moment, I stare at where he stood.

And then a fire ignites in my stomach and it takes everything in me to not beat the girl standing behind me.

I turn, and lightning strikes behind her eyes.

“You’re not gonna tell him.”

“Like hell I’m not!” I take a step forward, and she takes one back, bumping into Emily who has her arms crossed, and her shoulders raised. “You know, I tried so hard to give you the benefit of the doubt, Heather. You made him happy and I honestly thought you loved him, but I realize now that he deserves someone so much better than you.”

“Oh what, someone like you?” She’s snide, her demeanor defensive and cocky at the same time. She thinks she’s gonna come out on top of this.

“You know what? Yes. Someone like me. Someone who wouldn’t even think about doing this to him, because the amount of pain that he is about to go through doesn’t even come close to the stupid fucking reward. Oh, so you slept with some douchebag because what? You’re not getting enough attention?” The words are cathartic, leaving my belly with the venom that has been brewing there for the past 2 and half years.

“I found your letter. I was right about you.”

That would have stopped me in my tracks 6 months ago. Now I don’t even flinch.

“Oh honey, it’s not a fucking secret anymore. You want to hear me say it? I love him. I am in love with Spencer fucking Reid, and the only reason that he is with you, is because I was a decent human being and could see that you made him happy, so I kept my mouth shut. But I don’t care anymore. I don’t give a flying fuck what happens now, because whatever it is, it has to be better than being with a lying, cheating bitch like you.”

“You think he’s gonna run to you? Is that what you’re hoping for? He’s not gonna believe you. And even if he did, I’d turn on the water works and make him believe it was just this one time.”

She doesn’t know she’s being filmed.

I turn to the bartender. “Excuse me, is she a regular here?”

The bartender smirks, wiping down the wood. “Yep. She comes in at least a couple times a week with that dude you kicked to the curb. They almost always leave together.”

Heather scoffs, crossing her arms. “Again, he’ll never believe you.”

“You sure about that hot stuff?” Penelope steps forward, shoving the camera in her face. “Smile for the camera.”

Heather's eyes go wide, before turning to me. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would do it for a fucking corn chip.”

I place my hands on my hips, getting so close to her our noses almost touch. My voice is dangerously low when I speak. “Either you tell him everything or I will. And trust me. I have my ways of finding out if you did.”

I step back, wishing the daggers in my eyes could inflict actual pain, as I turn to walk away.

I hear her shout in frustration before I feel her hands on my back, pushing me forward into the mass of people.

A couple people unaware of the confrontation help me back up with a smile, thinking I’ve just drunkenly tripped over myself.

Emily and JJ each hold one of my arms, making sure I’m stable, while Penelope keeps filming a look of shock on her face.

A wicked smile forms on my face.

I was hoping she’d do something like that.

I turn and my fist connects with her face, a nice cracking noise satisfying the lust building in my chest, as a thin coat of blood covers my knuckles.

Though, it’s not my blood.

She’s holding her nose in pain as she falls to the floor, taking down a bar stool with her, and I swear I see the bartender laugh.

I grab a napkin off the bar, wiping my knuckles before throwing it on the floor by her feet.

“C’mon girls. The night is still young.”

I see them cover their own smiles with their hands, and Penelope starts to giggle the shock away.

I know I should feel bad. It was unprofessional of me.

But she shoved me first.

It is, legally, self-defense.

Is it sick that I wish she would have punched me?

It doesn’t matter anyway. I know she won’t press charges. She’s smart enough to know she just dug her grave.

And now she has to lie in it.

~~~~

The atmosphere is different when I walk into the office the next morning.

It’s tense.

And one look from JJ and an inhale of air tells me why.

Spencer’s here.

I barely have time to set my bag down on my desk, before he grabs me suddenly by the arm, dragging me into a nearby conference room.

The anger is rolling off of him in waves, and I can see by the way he clenches and unclenches his fists, he is pissed.

He almost throws me into the room, slamming the door behind him.

“You want to tell me why the fuck you punched Heather in the face for no damn reason?”

Stupid, stupid girl.

Did she not think, that the way I would find out, would be from Spencer himself?

I can’t help but shake my head and laugh. “She didn’t tell you.”

“She told me that she was having a drink with a girlfriend of hers when you came up drunk, yelling at her, until you just punched her. Can you explain that to me?”

He’s finally yelling at me. After months of begging for him to yell at me, he finally is.

It doesn’t feel as good as I had hoped it would.

I don’t say anything, just pull out my phone to find the video that Garcia sent me.

“Are you serious right now, Y/N? Put your fucking phone down and explain to me why you broke my wife's nose!”

I sit in a chair, setting the phone on the table and sliding it towards him. I lean back and cross my hands over my stomach.

“Watch the video, Spencer.”

“Why? Why should I listen to anything you tell me?”

I lean forward, onto my elbow, annunciating every syllable. “Watch the damn video.”

He stands, and I watch as he fights with himself, before huffing in defeat, sitting in a chair and pulling my phone towards him.

He presses play.

I watch as his anger flows away with each passing second, despair taking its place.

This is what I wasn’t looking forward to. Seeing him see it for the first time.

Watching him break.

It wasn’t pretty.

I watch as tears form in his eyes and silently drop down his cheeks.

He clenches his jaw as he watches her shove me, and the punch that followed.

The room is dead quite when the video ends.

I’m the one who speaks first, my voice soft.

“I punched her, because she had the audacity to do this. She had the audacity to hurt you, and flaunt that fact publicly.”

I swallow, taking a breath before speaking.

“I meant everything I said in that video, Spence.”

He looks up at the nickname, his anger no longer directed at me.

“She hurt you, and I saw red. I didn’t think about what I was doing, and frankly, I’m glad I didn’t. I don’t regret standing up for you. I never have, and I never will.” I clasp my hands together, forcing myself to continue.

“I love you Spencer. I don’t think that’s ever going to change. I’m going to have to live with you finding other people and falling in love, and I promise you, I will support you in that. But not with her. Not after that. You deserve so much better than a girl who thinks she can get away with this just because she’s pretty and jealous.”

He taps a couple things on my phone, before turning the screen off and sliding it back over to me.

He stands.

I don’t. I continue talking as he walks over to me.

“You mean everything to me, Spence. If I know you’re happy, truly happy, then I’m satisfied. I will defend you until the end of the universe comes. You are my best friend, and I love you. And I’m sorry I was never upfront about it before, but I am now.”

I look up at him as he stands in front of me. “I’m done hiding from you.”

He’s still for a moment.

He reaches down and grabs my hands, pulling me up before he wraps his arms around my waist and buries himself into my neck.

I pause, but only for a moment, before wrapping my arms around him and holding him tight against me.

I can feel the wet spots on my neck as he cries, and his hands wind themselves into the fabric of my shirt.

When was the last time he was held like this?

I don’t count the time until he loosens his grip, stepping back from me and wiping his face.

I would hold him until the end of time if he let me.

“Thank you.” He whispers, before moving towards the door.

He opens it and walks out, and I grab my phone, running after him.

I stop in the doorway.

“Hey!”

He stops and turns, and the rest of the team is watching over their files.

My heart is pounding, and I feel out of breath.

“I don’t have a choice,” I let him remember. “But I still choose you.”

A small smile flutters across his face, before he turns and walks away.

I look down at my phone.

Spence xp

[Video]

Sent, 9:06 a.m.

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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years ago

Text

“All you have to do is ask.” Chapter 6 - [Reid x Reader]

previous chapter // series index // next chapter

Summary: After a long stretch of crimefighting, Reader and Spencer finally get a chance to spend some time together. Reader is ready to give Dr. Reid the proper introduction to female domination and BDSM he asked for.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x (Female) Reader

Category: 85% Smut, 10% Fluff, 5% Angst.

Word Count: 7.9k for Chapter 6

Content Warnings: BDSM, Femdom, thigh riding, pegging, orgasm denial, spitting, slapping, bondage, sub drop, aftercare, brief mention of menstruation (just in case that needs a warning). This chapter is filthy, y’all.

A/n: Before we begin, I wanted to give a small warning. When I started this story, I wanted to give an honest portrayal of BDSM/Femdom. The before, during, and after are equally important. Sub/Dom drop is a very real and emotional thing. But don’t worry, Reader is always there for our nervous boy.

y/n = your name. y/l/n = your last name. Italicized text is Reader’s thoughts.

-- Chapter 6 – “Dirty thing” --

Things started to move so fast after Illinois. We arrived home late Sunday night only to be called back out on Monday morning to assist the Tucson Police with a child abduction. We were finishing up the paperwork when the call came in from Florida about a series of car-jackings that weren’t really car-jackings.

It had been more than 2 weeks since that night in the hotel room, and all I had since then were just moments with my Dr. Reid. He sat next to me on the plane sometimes, his hand resting on my thigh when he was certain no one could see. He had placed a kiss on the back of my neck while we were standing in the conference room in Florida. I was surviving on these stolen moments.

Spencer seemed to be happy with our first BDSM experience together, which was a relief to me. I had never had a submissive that was inexperienced before. I felt a great deal of pressure where he was concerned; I knew the toll one bad partner could have on a person.

Some nights Spencer would call me from his hotel room. I would give him instructions on how I wanted him to touch himself; listening to his desperation grow every time he brought himself to the edge and I pulled him back. We experimented a bit with degradation. Learning the complexities of Spencer Reid was quickly becoming one of my favorite pastimes.

After Florida we made a brief stop in Alabama; Hotch informed us that we were only spending one night here and that we would be departing at 7:30 am the following morning. Our unit chief also swore that we were going to have the weekend off; no interruptions. I’ll believe it when I see it, was all I could think. Glancing around to the rest of the team, I could see they agreed with me.

We all had separate rooms that night, thankfully. If I had to listen to Emily snore for one more night, I might lose my mind. I wasn’t sure how JJ did it. Coming into my room, I kicked my shoes off and headed for the bed. I pulled my phone out of my bag before I very unceremoniously flopped down on the bed. The pace of the last 2 weeks was starting to wear on me.

I brought up my text messages when there was a hesitant knock on my door. It was just past 8 pm; it was risky, but I knew it had to be Spencer. I hurried towards the door, throwing it open to reveal his sheepish face. Wasting no time, I grabbed him by his shirt and dragged him into the room.

“What are you doing?” I hissed. “Someone could have seen you.”

"I'm not allowed to go to my friend's room to hang out?"

He has a point. “Well, you never know! It’s better to be safe.”

His full lips turned down into a pout. “I just wanted to spend some time with you. I missed you, y/n.” Is my heart fluttering like that a sign of a medical problem? I wondered. “And not just the…stuff we do. I just…I just missed being with you.”

How could I stay mad at that? “I missed you too, baby.” I took his hand in mine, guiding him over to the bed. He propped up on the pillows beside me, both hands coming up to loosen his tie.

“Can I ask you a question?”

I snorted a bit. “Yeah, Doc, I think you can ask me anything you want at this point.”

“Well,” his cheeks were starting to turn pink. “We’ve been…” I wonder what he’s gonna call it. “…serious”Hmm, that’s fair. “for almost 4 weeks now, 27 days and 14 hours, give or take, depending on when you wanted to say this started.”

“Get to the point, darling.”

“Right,” he muttered. “Well, we’re supposed to have this weekend off. And I don’t have any plans.” He dropped his eyes to his hands which were twisting nervously. “I understand if you have plans, of course. Or you’re just not in the mood. Statistically speaking, given the time we’ve spent together,” your likely to have your period soon-“

“Woah,” I interrupted. “Let’s pump those breaks, Doc.” Spencer looked horrified that he had rambled on so much and equally relieved that I had stopped him. “First of all, I have an IUD. I don’t get my period very often.” I can’t believe he’s talking about my period. “And second, the only plans I have this weekend involve grocery shopping and laundry.”

“Oh,” he said quietly. “Me too.”

I pulled my lips together between my teeth to try and suppress my smile. “Are you asking about my weekend plans because you’re interested in being a part of them? Or just out of curiosity?” Come on, Doc. All you have to do is ask me.

“I was-I was wondering if you wanted to spend some time together this weekend? If you’re not busy.”

My sweet, sweet boy. I stretched my body up, bringing my lips to his. I brushed my mouth over his in a very sweet and unhurried kiss. “No, Doc. I’m not busy.” I felt his lips smile against my own. “And maybe we can try some new things if you’re interested.”

“I’m more than interested in everything related to you,” he breathed against my lips.

It was decided that Spencer would come to my apartment Saturday in the early evening. I left the exact time up to him, in case he had anything he needed to do on this rare weekend off.

It was around 2 pm when my phone chimed with a text message from him.

“What time is okay for me to come over?”

I laughed out loud; I should have expected this. “Whenever you want, Doc.”

His response was immediate, which was also rare. “Can I come over now?”

“Sure, Doc. But I want you to bring something with you.”

I pulled open the door a short time later to find a very nervous looking Spencer Reid. Even out of work, he was still dressed the same as always. He had dark slacks on, a navy shirt, and a cardigan, he had forgone the tie today, and he was clutching the strap of his messenger bag for dear life.

“Hi, Doc,” I greeted him with a huge smile before waving him in. I saw him taking inventory of my apartment. From the art on the walls to the rug on the floor to the books on the bookshelf. "You need a bigger bookshelf," he said at last.

He wasn’t wrong. “I suppose I do. But not all of us can have a whole wall as a bookshelf, Doc.” I put my hand on his arm, pulling him into my living room, then down onto my couch. His entire body was tense, his eyes moving around nervously. I leaned closer, putting my hand on the side of his face, drawing his gaze to meet mine.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” I reminded him.

“I want to do this. I do.” He swallowed nervously, flexing his fingers. “I just…I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what’s going to happen. And I don’t want to mess up. And I’m so nervous that I’ll do something wrong.”

I leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Hey, hey. Take a breath. I’m serious. Take a deep breath.”

He rolled his eyes but complied.

“Spencer, I don’t expect you to just come in here and jump into a world that you’ve never been a part of before. I’m nervous too.”

That had his eyes widening. “You are? But why? You know what you’re doing.”

It doesn’t feel like I do. “Every person is different, Spencer, and I haven’t cared about a submissive the way I care about you in a long time.” My boy smiled at that. “Before we do anything, we’re going to let you get comfortable. I’m not going to do anything that we haven’t already discussed. If you feel uncomfortable, say “yellow” and I will pull back. If you don’t want to do anything more, say “red” and we will stop right then.”

He bit his full bottom lip, his eyes widening as he continued to meet my gaze. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

Just when I think my heart can’t possibly handle another crack in it. I cupped his jaw in both of my hands. “You could never disappoint me, Spencer. Never.” I said the words with 100% sincerity and honesty. It was true. “Even if you decide this isn’t what you want and you walk out right now, I’ll never be disappointed.” If he left right now I would feel a lot of things, but disappointment in him wouldn’t be one of them.

“Okay,” he breathed. “Can…Can I kiss you now? I don’t know-“

I leaned closer, my lips hovering millimeters from his own. “Yes,” I whispered. “You can kiss me.”

His lips were tender as they brushed mine. It was like nothing we had done previously mattered, my nervous boy was still so afraid, but still so desperate and so curious.

I pulled back right as his tongue flicked over the seam of my mouth, resting my forehead against his. “Let’s not get carried away,” I chuckled. “I still need to talk to you.”

Spencer sat back, his hands folded on his lap, looking at me expectantly.

Forever the eager student. "The scene begins when I send you into the bedroom alone. It ends when you cum. That can always change if you decide you want it to stop." He needed to know that. “Since this is your first experience, I want you to be prepared for some pretty intense emotions once we’re done, I promise I’ll be right here with you to get you through anything, should you feel it.” My boy’s eyes were wide, but he nodded. Still so trusting. “I’ll be using toys on you this time. I ordered them a few weeks ago and they’ve all been sterilized.”

His brow quirked at that. “You had to buy them?”

It was impossible to contain my laugh. “I didn’t think you’d be okay with toys that had been used on other people, no matter how well I sterilized them.”

The horrified expression on his face did nothing to help me suppress my laughter.

“Anyway,” I went on, still attempting to get myself under control. “I have various sizes for different things. I assume you’ve never done any sort of anal play on your own?”

There’s that blush. “No, y/n, I haven’t. Does that matter?”

“No, sweet boy, not in the way you think. I just want to make sure you’re comfortable. So, we will start with smaller sizes. If you decide you like it, we’ll work up to bigger ones. Or if you like the small ones, we can stick with those.”

He was shifting his hips unconsciously. “You’d be okay with that?”

Moving quickly, I lifted my leg over both of his, my hands pushing his shoulders to the back of the couch, my heat settling over his cock. He’s already a little hard, I thought with a smirk. I leaned forward, my mouth finding the softness of his neck, my lips skimming down to his pulse point before placing a soft kiss there.

Spencer groaned softly, his hands resting on my hips. He knew our scene hadn’t started yet, which made him bolder with his touch.

Kissing my way up to his ear, I took the lobe between my teeth, tugging softly, before I spoke. "I just want to fuck you, Dr. Reid. I don't care what size cock I fuck you with." I don't know if he shivered at the feeling of my breath against him or at my words. Hopefully both. I placed one last kiss on his neck before I moved off of him.

His bewildered expression amused me greatly. “But, before any of that, did you bring what I asked?”

It took my brilliant boy a second to remember what I was talking about. He reached for the messenger bag beside him. “Yes,” he muttered, opening the bag to pull out several books. “But I wasn’t sure what sort of book you wanted me to bring. So, I brought a few different options.” He set 4 books down on my coffee table. “What are they for?”

“You’re going to read to me,” I said, not attempting to hide my smile.

"…I am?" At my nod, he said, "Oh..okay. Do you want to do that now?”

“Don’t look so disappointed, baby.” I held out my hand to him. “Come with me.”

Curious as ever, my boy followed me into my bedroom, his eyes scanning over the bed, resting on the small chest that sat at the end of it.

“…Are we…” he trailed off.

"Sort of. I wanted to try something first before we officially start.” I turned to him, my fingers moving slowly up his chest until I reached his collar. “It will help me get you ready for later. Is that okay?” Still so nervous. Spencer nodded quickly; his pupils were already beginning to dilate. I rose up on my tiptoes to press a kiss to his pouty mouth. "We're not really in a scene right now. I know that can be confusing, and it's not something I would normally do, but you've never done this, so I thought it would be best." I pressed another kiss to his jaw. "You can touch me, just not under my clothes yet. Alright, baby?"

He mumbled his response while I pulled him forward until the back of my knees hit the bed, bringing him tumbling down with me. His hands tangled in my hair when my mouth found his. I didn’t pull away this time when his tongue flicked over my lips. I let him in with a soft sigh, moving my hands to tug on his soft, messy curls. I shifted until my pelvis was aligned with his, beginning to rock slowly.

This whole exercise was a bit of a tease, but I needed for him to be aroused for what I had planned. The more aroused he was the better.

I tugged his shirt out of the waistband of his pants, running my hands underneath the fabric. "Hey," he whispered, pulling back to smile at me. I ignored the way my heart fluttered at his tone. “You said not under the clothes.”

Smiling back at him, I hooked my leg around his hips, pulling him down further. I used that momentum to flip him onto his back while I straddled him. He looks so surprised, I thought smugly. He knows I help teach seminars on defensive tactics.

“Wrong again, Dr. Reid,” I murmured, my lips moving down his cheek to his jaw, to his ear. “I said you couldn’t put your hands under my clothes, baby,” I whispered against his ear. “I can do whatever the fuck I want to you.” I brought my hand up to wrap around his throat, applying a small amount of pressure to each side. I pressed my still covered pussy against the bulge in his pants. “Isn’t that right, baby?”

Spencer didn’t even wait until the words were out of my mouth before he started to whimper. I lifted my body until I was sitting up then I brought my hands to his belt. My fingers were unzipping his fly before I spoke again. “I asked you a question, Dr. Reid. Or does that memory of yours stop working when you become a whimpering, needy little mess?” My words were harsher than they had ever been with him before; he’d really enjoyed the degradation we had done so far and said he was open to pushing it a bit further. Ask and you shall receive, baby.

I moved off of him then, rising to my feet at the side of the bed. First, I slid his shoes off. Then I reached up to pull his pants down. Then my thumbs hooked in the waistband of his underwear. I let out an exaggerated sigh as I climbed back on top of his body. My lower body was still completely covered but he was bare from the waist down.

He wasn’t prepared for when my right hand shot out and grabbed his face. My thumb digging into the left side of his face. “That’s twice you’ve not answered me, Dr. Reid.” I lifted my hand from his face and quickly brought it back down quickly. Not as hard as I had the last time we were together like this. Not yet.

“I’m sorry, Miss,” he whimpered. “I’m so sorry.”

“Are you?” I moved my hand down to grip his hard cock in my hand, squeezing him, enjoying the way his eyes fluttered at the action. “I don’t know if I believe that, Dr. Reid.” My hand was pumping him steadily now. “I think you need to apologize a bit better than that.”

His eyes shot open and he subconsciously licked his lips, causing me to chuckle and still my hands movements. “Oh no, you can’t have that. You haven’t earned that, my nervous boy. Look at you. Look how much your cock is leaking precum already.” I brought my hands up unbutton his shirt. “You’re just a needy thing, aren’t you? It’s almost pathetic.”

Spencer was shifting his hips again, trying to get some sort of friction. “I’m sorry, Miss.”

Once his shirt was unbuttoned, I brought my hands up to his throat, leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose. “I know.” I lifted up, raking my nails down his pale chest. “Which is why you’ll be my good boy now, won’t you?”

He nodded quickly, his eyebrows coming together when I moved off of him. I knelt in front of the trunk at the end of my bed. He propped himself up on his elbows as I opened the chest and pulled two items out before I moved back over towards him.

“Move up the bed, lay in the center.”

Crawling back onto the bed, I hovered above him, before I began to move down his body. I kept eye contact with him the entire time. It’s okay, baby. I would never hurt you. “Do you know what this is, Spencer?”

I think hearing his name surprised him; he forgot that we weren’t technically in a scene yet. I had only acted this way because I wanted to bump his simmering arousal up to a flaming inferno. I knew my boy would become more nervous if he wasn’t a whimpering, desperate mess. He nodded.

I pushed his legs up until his knees were bent, then I kissed up his right thigh, moving towards his cock. “I want you to be ready for when I fuck you.” I offered in way of explanation right before I moved to run my tongue up the underside of his cock.

Spencer threw his head back, tossing it against my pillows. I wrapped my fingers around the base of his cock while I moved him into my mouth. I didn't suck as hard as I normally did, instead of letting saliva slip from my mouth to coat him. After a few moments, I pulled off.

"I want you to touch your cock, Spencer," I said, uncapping the lube. "You're not allowed to cum. Remember that when you touch yourself. If you get so close that it's painful to stop, you have no one to blame but yourself. And if you cum, I will punish you."

His Adam's apple bobbed, his eyes moving from the butt plug to my hands then back to his cock. He wrapped his long fingers around it while I coated the plug with lube. Eyes fixed firmly on my hands; he started a slow rhythm. What a good boy.

I stroked his thighs as I moved the plug into position against his ass. His face was flushed with a mix of arousal and embarrassment, I think. I just smirked at him. “Don’t get shy with me now, baby,” I said as I slowly began to push inside of him. “I’m going to have you begging me to fuck your tight little ass before the day is over.” He whimpered, his hand speeding up slightly. “You do know that, don’t you, Spencer? I’m going to make you such a little slut for me.” The plug went in further, with almost no real resistance from him. “Jesus, it looks like you’re already a fucking slut.” His whimpers and groans were coming faster now. “Look at how you’re taking this plug,” I started to fuck it into him slowly. “I knew you were dirty, Dr. Reid. But I didn’t expect this.”

With one final small push, it was seated inside him. I reached to grab his hand, pulling it off of his cock. His lip was between his teeth, his forehead dotted with sweat. "You did so well, Spencer," I praised him. "You're more needy than I thought. I think I might make you bounce on my cock later." I moved off of the bed, reaching down to pick up his underwear before I tossed them to him. "I thought it would take some time to get you to ride me, but you're such a little slut, I'm sure you'll be begging for it soon."

He looked so confused, his fingers picking up his underwear. “Wha-“ he panted, his hips moving against my bed, already starting to be overwhelmed by the sensation.

“Put on your underwear, Dr. Reid; leave your shirt unbuttoned. Then come back into the living room.” I gave him a wide smile. “You still have to read to me.”

I sat on the couch, flipping through the books Spencer had brought, waiting for him to emerge from my bedroom. He really had done so much better than I expected. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I was going to have him bounce on my cock. The thought of him moving over me, his head thrown back while I pumped his cock caused heat to pool between my thighs.

My eyes didn’t raise to look at him when he walked into the room. He sat to the left of me, where he had been before. His cock was still hard, his precum was leaving a damp spot on his underwear. “Which book do you want to read me, Dr. Reid?”

He groaned. “I-I don’t know if I can finish the whole book like this,” he mumbled, flushing a deeper red that went down to his neck.

“You don’t have to finish, darling boy.” I rose up from the couch then, undoing my pants before shimming them down my hips. “You just have to read to me until I cum.”

Spencer’s eyes went wide. Flickering from the books then back to where I was removing my shirt. I wasn’t paying attention to what book he picked; ultimately, it didn’t matter, I’m not sure I would be able to pay enough attention during this to even process what he was reading.

I stood before him in my bra and panties. He brought the thick book up to his chest, never so much as blinking while I moved over him. I put my thighs on either of his right thigh before I sat down, pushing the seam of my pussy against him through my underwear. I gripped his shoulders, moving my mouth to the tender area where his shoulder met his neck. Placing a soft kiss there, I moved my right hand down his chest, skimming over his stomach, then applying a teasing pressure to his cock over his underwear.

“Come on, Dr. Reid. You told me you’d read to me.”

His first few words were sure. I was almost positive this was one of the many books he had memorized, meaning he wouldn’t need to rely on the book itself to keep reading. This was probably good, as at the first rock of my pussy against his thigh, he released a soft groan, interrupting his words.

Smirking, I moved my hips more purposefully against him. My hands came up to grip his hair, pulling harshly. His moan once again made his words falter. “What’s wrong Dr. Reid,” I whispered sweetly against his skin. “Can you not focus on your book?”

“It’s…It’s so hard, y/n.”

I licked the vein running up his neck before I sucked on the skin. “I can feel just how hard it is, Dr. Reid.” I moved my mouth up to his ear again. “Take my bra off.” I expected him to fumble with this task, but he put his right hand behind my back and removed my bra in seconds. You’ve been holding out on me, Doc. Leaning back, I moved my hands to my own breasts, thumbing my nipples as I listened to Spencer read his book, his words barely registering in my mind.

“You don’t need both hands to read, do you?” He shook his head, his worlds never faltering from the story. “Good. I know how hard it is for you to sit here with that plug inside you. I know you’re thinking about how it will feel when I fuck you.” There’s that whimper, I thought. “I’m thinking about it too, Spencer.” My hips began to grind against him faster. “Put the book down but keep reading to me. If you stop your words, I’ll stop moving. The sooner I cum, the sooner you can get back into my bed.”

He placed the book down; his words a whisper now as he recited the book. “Touch me, Spencer. Make me cum like a good boy so I can finally fuck you like the little slut you are.” His hands gripped my hips, guiding my movements against his thigh, his mouth against my neck while he continued mumbling words I could barely hear against my skin.

"I've thought about fucking you before, you know," I said, my pussy becoming wetter and wetter against him. "The first time was on the jet. You had some book open in your lap. You were stretched out on the couch." I groaned as Spencer moved my hips faster and faster. "I thought about the look on your face if I just came over to you and sat on your lap." I moved to kiss his neck again. "I wonder what they would have said then." Dropping my hand down to palm his hot, hard cock over his underwear. "What would they have said if they saw Dr. Spencer Reid's big, pretty boy cock sliding down my throat?"

He was groaning now in between words, but the words were yet to totally falter. “I guess that would be better than them seeing you get fucked, right?” One of his hands moved up to my breast to pinch my nipple. “What would they think if they knew that their boy wonder, their resident genius, wanted to get his ass fucked and treated like a dirty little thing?”

I was so, so close. “Come on, Agent Reid. Make me cum. Make me cum all over your thigh so I can make you cum so hard you see stars.”

His words faltered then; his mouth moved to my shoulder, kissing it softly before he said, “I’d let the entire world watch anything if it meant I got to fuck you.” With that, he bit down on my skin. That small amount of pain caused my orgasm to break like a wave against me. Spencer kept moving my hips back and forth to help me ride it out.

The world came back into focus slowly, my breathing still harsh against Spencer’s shoulder. Gripping his shoulders, I pulled back to kiss him softly. He tried to turn the kiss into something deeper, his need making him desperate. I pulled back, looking in his eyes. “When you go into the room we really begin,” I whispered. “Green, yellow, and red. I need you to know I’m so proud of you, darling boy, even if we just end here. You’ve done so well.”

He whimpered again, confirming once again that he had a praise kink. “I want more, Miss. Please?”

I moved off of his body to sit back on the couch, picking up the book he had set down. “Go into the bedroom, take off all of your clothes. Lay in the center of the bed, hands by your sides. Do not touch yourself. If you do, I will punish you.”

When I finally made my way into the room a minute later, I found Spencer right where I instructed him to be. His cock was still hard; he was breathing rapidly. I stood at the edge of the bed, slowly slipping my panties off before I knelt down to open the chest again.

I had given this first scene a lot of thought. One day, I wanted to restrain him with my handcuffs when I fucked him. I could just imagine how he'd blush whenever he saw them after that. But, for this I had decided to use arm restraints that attached to the bars on my headboard, wrapping around his wrist with a Velcro cuff; he could open them if he needed to. I moved up on his left side, fastening one restraint to the bed, then walking to the right side, doing the same. His eyes were on my face, so expectant and so trusting.

I crawled on to the bed then, sitting myself on his firm stomach, my wet heat touching his skin. I leaned over to grip one cuff before I said, "Give me your hand, Dr. Reid." He complied without complaint or hesitation, then he did it again with his left wrist. I scooted my body down his until I felt his pubic bone brush against my still sensitive pussy. His breath hitched. "What's wrong, Dr. Reid?" I asked as I moved further down, my ass now resting over his cock.

“I-I can feel you. You-you’re so close.” His hands started to pull against the restraints, itching to reach out and touch me, push me back even further so his cock would finally touch the paradise that was my wet cunt.

I tsked at him, pouting my lips. “I know, darling boy. It must be so hard.” I moved my hands to his chest, bracing myself on one hand while the other reached up to wrap around his throat. “It’s so hard to so fucking needy, isn’t it, baby?” I moved back another inch.

He was whining under me now, shifting his hips relentlessly. Leaning forward, I placed my lips centimeters away from his own, my grip on his throat tightening just a bit. “It wouldn’t take much, Dr. Reid.” I brushed my mouth against his, laughing when I heard the restraints jerking against the headboard bars. “You know I won’t let you fuck me…but all it would take is just a shift of my hips.” I rocked back a bit, bringing my pussy right there, before drawing back up. “What would you give me for that, Dr. Reid? What would you do to feel my hot, wet, tight, little pussy rub against your pretty boy cock?”

“Anything,” his voice was so much higher than normal when he spoke. “I’ll do anything, Miss. Please. Please.”

You’re so good at this, baby. “You sound very pretty when you beg, Dr. Reid.” I placed one more chaste kiss on his top lip before I went back to a sitting position. Bracing my hands on his hips, I lifted my pelvis over his groin to settle on the tops of his thighs. His strangled groan was music to my ears. “You have been such a good boy…” I pretended to ponder this. “Tell you what, if you promise to ride my cock, to swirl your hips while you fuck yourself on top of me, I’ll let you feel me.”

He was nodding desperately, still pulling against the arm restraints. “Yes. Please. Please, Miss. I’ll do whatever you want.”

I moved his cock to lay flat against his pubic bone, the head pointing upwards towards his face. “I want you to watch, Dr. Reid.” I could feel myself dripping when I moved forward. Slowly, slowly, slowly, I placed the lips of my cunt around the width of his cock.

“Fuck." Spencer's eyes were glued to where my pussy was finally touching his cock. "You're so…fuck, you feel so good, Miss.”

This was the first time I had felt a man against me like this in longer than I wanted to admit. I should be scared, but I just couldn't be. It felt so right to be against him right now. I started moving my hips forwards and backward, much like I did when I rode his thigh. I looked down, watching his cock disappear as I slide my pussy over him. This wasn’t even sex in the way most people considered it, but being here, sharing this moment with Spencer was one of the most erotic and intimate moments of my life.

With one finally slide of my hips, I lifted off of him, getting off the bed completely.

“No, no, no, Miss, please come back.”

I looked back at him over my shoulder. His cock was wet with my arousal, his neck was flushed a bright red, his messy curls were sticking to his forehead, and his wrists were still pulling against the restraints. He is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

“My, my, Dr. Reid.” I moved back to the chest, reaching down to pull out my harness. “You might be the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen. Look at you,” I shot him a look of fake disapproval while I stepped into the harness, bringing it up to secure it around my hips. I had selected this strap-on for the specific reason that I could change the size of the dildo attached to it. So, for today I could use something smaller on my boy…until he was ready for something rougher, or bigger. Originally, I had planned on selecting the smallest dildo, but after seeing how easily he took the plug, I decided to move to the next size up.

Spencer watched with wide eyes while I pulled out my “cock”. I smirked at him. “Do you like it, Dr. Reid?” I slid the dildo into place, clip it into place. I moved closer to him, crawling up the bed, sitting on his right side. I brushed my fingers over his chest, feeling his racing heartbeat. Moving so quickly he didn’t have a chance to brace, I struck quickly, whipping my left hand up to backhand across the cheek. Rising up on my knees, I moved closer to him, gripping a handful of his hair with one hand, my other bracing myself on the headboard. “I am getting really fucking tired of not having my questions answered, Dr. Reid.”

He was positively squirming now, his pupils were huge, his mouth hanging open. “I’m sorry Miss, I’m so sorry. I can’t- I can’t think when you’re around me.” I had to fight very hard to stop my lips from spreading into a smile, but I think he saw my lips twitch anyway.

“Brat,” I muttered, yanking on his hair again, causing him to let out another whimper. “I think you need to apologize, Dr. Reid. You want to be my good boy, don’t you?” I tilted my head to the side, regarding him curiously. “Because, if you’re my good boy, I’ll let you cum. But…if you’re not,” I leaned down to whisper to him. “Well, bad boys get their pretty little asses fucked, but they don’t get to cum.”

“I’m sorry Miss,” he whined out. “I’m so sorry. Please let me apologize.”

“Open your mouth.” He did so without question, his arms pulling on the restraints harder when I spit into his mouth. “Swallow it.” Such a good boy. “Now, I want you to suck my cock, Dr. Reid. Can you do that? Suck my cock and get it nice and wet before I fuck you with it.”

His eyes were on my face; I could see just the smallest flicker of nervousness in those pretty golden-brown eyes. I’d never hurt you, baby. You know that. Almost as if he heard my thoughts, he opened his mouth for me. Releasing his hair, I brought my hand to the dildo, guiding it into his mouth. “That’s it, you’re doing so good, Dr. Reid.” I gave a few very shallow thrusts of my hips, watching his eyes flutter while his cheeks hollowed out. “I knew the first time you sucked my fingers that day on your couch that you’d be so good at sucking cock.” I moved my hand from the dildo to place it lightly against his throat. “You’re nothing but a cock slut though, right, Dr. Reid?” He moaned around me; I squeezed his throat in response.

Pulling out of his mouth, I smiled down at him while I moved further away. I placed a soft kiss on his cheek before I moved down the bed. “You know why I left your legs free, don’t you Dr. Reid?”

“I’m not sure Miss.” His response was breathy and immediate. You’re learning, my nervous boy.

“Oh, the great Dr. Reid isn’t sure? That must be first. I guess it’s probably hard for your big brain to work when all the blood is going to your cock.” I grabbed the lube from the side of the bed to place it beside his thigh. I pushed his legs up roughly, so his knees were bent again. “I left your legs free, Dr. Reid, so it’s easier to make you take my cock.”

I brought my right hand up to his cock, my grip not firm enough to be satisfying, but I wanted him to focus on that sensation, especially now. In reality, it probably didn’t matter, my boy looked too far gone to be embarrassed anymore. With my left, I grabbed the base of the butt plug, slowly pulling it out.

His breath caught in his throat, his top teeth digging into his bottom lip so hard it whitened. “What’s wrong, baby?” My tone was condescending as I worked the plug out a bit, before I pushed it back in a bit, fucking it out of him gently, much like how I fucked it into him. “What do you need, Dr. Reid?”

He knew what I wanted, I had told him multiple times, but will my boy be brave enough to give it to me. I pulled the plug out completely, tossing it to the side before I grabbed the lube. I squirted some into my right hand before I started to slick up the dildo, my eyes never leaving his.

“I-I want you to fuck me, Miss.”

“Hmm,” I acknowledged, my hands still moving up and down my ‘cock.’ “I’m not sure what you mean, darling boy. You’ll have to be a bit more specific.”

Spencer’s head thrashed, his thighs clenched, his stomach muscles tensed. “I need you to fuck my ass, Miss…Please. Please fuck my ass, Miss.”

My hand stilled. Goddamnit. Hearing those words out of him made my pussy clench, my own wetness starting to drip down my thighs. "All you have to do is ask, Dr. Reid.”

I moved into position between his thighs, bringing both of my hands up to grip his slim hips. Scooting forward, I lifted him up a bit until my knees were barely under him, just enough to tilt his pelvis up so I could see him. I ran one of my hands up his inner thigh. “You’re even pretty here, Dr. Reid.” I lifted my hips slightly, pressing the dildo against his asshole. “Hold still, baby. I know you’re so needy and that makes it so hard, but you can hold still for me, can’t you?”

He nodded rapidly, his hands fisted into balls, his wrists tugging against the restraints, his teeth still sunk into his lower lip. Usually, I would demand his words, but I understood how overwhelming this was for him. Free pass, my nervous boy. I slowly started to push inside of him. My gaze kept flicking between my ‘cock’ entering him and his face, watching for any reaction, any sign of hesitancy.

“Please,” he whimpered.

I started making slow strokes, fucking the dildo into him in shallow, small thrusts. When I had about 4 inches inside of him, I put some more lube on my hand. I stroked some of it on the remaining 3 inches of the dildo, making sure I could bottom out inside him. The remaining lube I left on my hand…the same hand I brought up to grab his cock with.

“FUCK.” Spencer’s shoulders were raising off of the bed, his eyes locked on my movements.

“Does it feel good, Dr. Reid?”

"Green, green, green, fucking green," he muttered. Under normal circumstances, I would have laughed, but right now I just pitched my hips forward, burying the dildo inside of him. He let out a strangled moan that sounded like my name when my thighs hit his body.

"Look at that," I said softly. "Look at what a good little slut you are, Dr. Reid?" I started to thrust slowly, looking at his reactions to see which strokes seemed to have the biggest effect on him. Being a profiler comes in handy at the strangest times. “You’re such a pretty cock slut, baby.” The tempo of my thrusts sped up while I looked down to watch the dildo move in and out of his tight entrance.

“Miss, fuck,” he whimpered. “Miss, please fuck me harder.”

I moved my hips faster, watching as his mouth opened in a silent scream. I gripped his cock firmer in my hand. Building up a rhythm between jerking him off and fucking him. “Is this what you want, Dr. Reid? You want to be used like this? Like a filthy slut?”

“Yes, yes, Miss, please.” His eyes were fixed on my hand on his cock, on my hips moving quickly. “Miss, Miss, you’re so- Miss, I’m going to cum.”

“Oh, you are, are you?” I teased, slowing my hand slightly. My thighs still slapping against him as I fucked him.

“Please Miss,” he begged. “Please let me cum. Please, I’ll do anything. Please, please, I’m so fucking close.”

I gripped his cock harder, my pace never slowing. “Come on, Dr. Reid. Cum for me like the dirty thing you are.”

At my words, he let out the loudest moan I’d heard him make yet. His back was arching off the bed, as rope after rope of cum erupted from his cock. I slowed my pace, only giving a few shallow thrusts to work him through his orgasm.

Right as his orgasm started to end, I slowly withdrew the portion of the dildo that was still inside him.

I leaned over him to quickly undo the cuffs, freeing him. Moving off the bed, I unstrapped myself, letting the harness fall to the floor before I dashed into the bathroom connected to my room. Wetting the washcloth, I had already laid out, I grabbed my other supplies and hurried back into the room. Spencer was where I left him, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, unseeing.

I moved to sit between his legs. First, I wiped the cum and lube off his cock, murmuring my praises the entire time before I cleaned up the remaining lube from between his cheeks. Tossing the rag into the floor, I moved to kneel beside him on the bed. "Spencer," I whispered. "Spencer, you did so well. You were so wonderful."

His gaze fixed on mine, his eyes starting to fill with tears, his face a mask of confusion. “Y/n,” he said, his voice raspy. “Why-why-“

I pushed his hair off his forehead, bringing his arms in towards his body to check his wrists. “It’s okay, Spencer. It is fine. Your adrenaline and endorphins are hitting your body right now. This is what I was talking about that might happen. It’s called sub drop.” I cupped his jaw, my thumb brushing over his lips. “I’m right here, Spencer. I’m right here. And I’m so proud of you.”

I wanted to wait until he asked me to touch him, to be sure that was what he needed, but I just acted on instinct. I laid down beside of him and wrapped my arms around him. He turned his body to face mine, his knees curled up to hit my thighs. I stroked my hands over his back, murmuring softly to him the whole time.

After a few minutes had passed, and his breathing had evened out, I spoke again. “Spence? Do you think you can take a shower? The heat will make you feel better.”

He sniffled, his eyes never rising to meet mine. “I…I don’t know if I can leave you.”

In that moment, the tiny part of my heart that didn’t already belong to Spencer Reid, this marvelous, wonderful man, was cemented into his grasp. “Spencer, I need you to look at me, can you do that?”

His soft eyes finally rose to meet mine. They were wide and anxious and swimming with a much bigger and more frightening emotion. “Spencer, I’m not going to leave you. I’m going to take a shower with you. Then after we get cleaned up, we’re going to order some food and watch whatever you want to while we sit on my couch.” My words were hurried and dripping with honesty.

My darling boy’s face lite up with hope so bright it threatened to consume me. “You’ll stay with me?”

“You don’t even have to ask, Spence.” I pressed a kiss to his forehead.

The remainder of our Saturday went like I had planned. In our shower, I held his body under the warm water, I washed his hair, and I listened while he told me whatever fact came to his mind in that moment. After we were done, I got his messenger bag and brought him his clothes.

Together, we cuddled on my couch. Him in his old Caltech t-shirt and sweatpants and me in loose t-shirt and leggings. We found some sci-fi show that he said was good that I had never seen to watch while we ate our takeout. I listened to everything he told me about the show, holding his body close to mine.

I felt the tension rise up inside of him the later it got. Which is why I turned to him with an over-exaggerated yawn and asked him the question he was too afraid to ask me.

“Hey, Doc?” I said softly. “It’s getting pretty late…and after…after everything we did today, I don’t really want to be alone. Would you mind staying with me?”

The relief I felt radiate off of him in that moment was so powerful I don’t know if I’ll ever forget the feeling. “Of course, y/n. I’d really like that.”

After I stripped and remade my bed and cleaned up any stray items that I may have missed earlier, I lead Spencer into my bedroom. I fell asleep that night with my arms wrapped around him, his back to my chest. I held my hand against his chest, feeling his heartbeat slow as he fell asleep in my arms. It took a long time for sleep to finally find me, but I didn’t mind. I was content to just feel the heart beating inside the chest of the best person I had ever known.

Series tag list: @abschaffer2 @liaabsurd @brokenanxiety @thisiscalmandits-dr @less-intelligent-spencerreid @reidsmyhusband-emilysmymistress @cielo1984 @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @101donuts @heyitssarahk @creepingfromthecorners @imjusthereformggcontent @fanfictionislifetho @annestine @boiled-onionrings @gublerspublers @dolanfivsosxox @lamusaeuterpe @publiusvirgilius @suzystuff

Permanent Taglist: @rachelxwayne @pinkdiamond1016 @sickeninglyshoujo @justagirllookingforherplace @nanocoool

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds smut #Spencer Reid #Spencer Reid Fanfic #Spencer Reid Fan fiction #Spencer Reid smut #Dr Reid #Dr Spencer Reid #Reid smut #Dr Spencer Reid Smut #Spencer Reid x you #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid x y/n #dr Spencer Reid x reader #dr Spencer reid x you #dr reid smut #ayhtdia

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achliegh · 3 years ago

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Golden

SORRY FOR THE WEIRD SCHEDUALE RIGHT NOW!!!!

Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Beta: @the-most-slyterin-hufflepuff & @punkkkboi

TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death/suicide, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe

Chapter Songs (listening in order is recommended):

Chapter 11:

Monsters

I Think I’m Okay

Clay looked so good, and it was making Noelle feel some type of way. He was sprawled out on the couch, one arm over the arm of the couch by his head while his other hand was holding his phone. The leg on the inside of the couch was straight and his other was bent. He was wearing a pair of running shorts that he only wears at home that are just a little snug around his thighs. He was wearing a shirt that was old and well worn, it was short enough that it rested above his belly button, showing off his happy trail that Noelle can’t help but follow down with her eyes as she finishes sorting some clothes that she wants to donate.

Thomas and Noelle haven’t done anything sexual with Clay yet because they want to have a talk about boundaries and everything before they just… jump into sex. But, she was reaching her limit, Clay has been driving her insane lately. Even if it is little things that he doesn’t mean to be sexy, it makes her have to take a breath and calm down a little. Sometimes she even has to leave the room to give herself a moment to collect her thoughts.

She couldn’t take it anymore though, she was at the edge. She stands up and walks over to him, standing in front of him she puts her hands in her sweatpant pockets and just looks down at him. Waiting for him to look up at her.

“What’s up, Buttercup?” He clicks his phone off and puts it on his chest, putting both his hands behind his head and smiling up at her with his stupidly sweet smile. She swallows the cotton feeling in her mouth. She doesn’t say anything, she just straddles him, obviously taking him by surprise from the way his hands flew to her hips. “Feeling lonely?” He is rubbing his thumbs up and down on her hips in soothing circles as he looks at her full of adoration.

Making her stomach flutter.

Smiling, she leans down and kisses him. He returns the smile and the kiss, he expects it to stay gentle and innocent like all their kisses have been. But he is surprised when she grabs his face and deepens the kiss. Soon they are in a heated make out. Noelle is pulling his head by his hair into deeper and more intense kisses. Their tongues dance around each other but Noelle is in control. They pull away just far enough that they are basically breathing each other in, Noelle has this wild look in her eye that makes Clay feel hot all over. That dull heat all over turns into a sharp spike of heat when she starts kissing by his ear and whispers.

“I want to fuck you.”

He pulls away and looks her in the eyes again, it sends a shiver of excitement straight to his groin. Clay is someone who loves being used, loves being submissive, and thinks he loves her as well. His brain is almost gone into a submissive state but he picks her up and carries her to Thomas’ room. He sets her down on her feet next to the bed.

“You really want to fuck me?” He takes his shirt off and sits on the bed. Looking up at her with his big brown eyes in a way he knows drives people insane. Especially people like Noelle. She nods and walks towards him, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him so he lays down. Her hand travels down to his waistband with featherlight touches, she looks up at him for permission to take his shorts off and he gives it to her.

She yanks them off him and just about pulls him off the side of the bed, causing both of them to laugh, leaning down for a couple of kisses, Clay pulls her tank top off as she pulls away.

“You’re beautiful.” He looks at her and places one of his hands on her ribs and pulls her closer so she is straddling his waist. He smiles at her and sits up a little so he can start kissing on her collarbones and chest, he remembers Thomas mentioning how sensitive her boobs are. He smiles and wraps his arms around her waist as he starts showing her boobs some attention, she starts to squirm but doesn’t pull away, instead hugging his head to keep his face in her chest.

He loves boobies.

After a while she reaches around and grabs his wrists and pins him to the bed, so they are face to face.

“Let’s get you ready for me to fuck you, yeah? I can already feel just how much you’re dripping for me.” She smirks at him as she runs a finger up his shaft of his leaking cock. He swallows down a moan but his breathing starts picking up. “Get comfy while I go get some things.” She gives him a kiss and gets off the bed, wandering into the closet to get her things.

She comes back after a few minutes with a couple of fun things. First off, she is wearing a bright pink strap-on the dick is dark dark fuchsia and it was about the same size as Clay.

She also tosses a bottle of oil based lube on the bed and crawls over to him. Laying down between his legs and giving his thighs a few kisses.

“Have you ever been fucked before?” Clay was watching her but not answering as he had mostly slipped into his submissive state of mind. So, she pushes herself up and looks at him with a serious look. “Answer me Clay.”

“Yes, I have. Only once because I’m usually with women, who don’t want… this.” He gestures between them as Noelle rubs his thigh and grabs the lube. “Have you fucked Thomas before?” He watches her fingers rub together to warm up the lube as she starts lowering her fingers towards his entrance.

“Not Thomas, I’ve asked but he has never been into it. But… I have fucked a few people before and have been wanting to do it since. This strap is very special, not only does it go into you and make you feel good.” She bites her lip as she slips a finger into Clay who is nice and relaxed as well as extremely horny. “It also goes into me and makes me feel good.” She smirks as Clay takes a shaky breath as she starts moving her finger in and out of him.

“Fuck, really? That's uh- so hot!” It has been a few minutes and Noelle has added in another finger and is curling them to press into his prostate. She definitely knows what she is doing. Clay moves his hands under his thighs and grips them to pull them up higher. He hears Noelle curse under her breath and he whines, arching his back as she adds another.

“You’re doing so good for me baby, so amazing. I’m so proud of you.” Noelle watches as a flush appears in Clay’s chest and a sappy smile rushes onto his face. She moves her hips a bit so the dildo that is in her attached to the strap relieves her with some pleasure for a moment.

“Noelle.” Clay calls for her attention and she looks into his eyes and sees he is in another place. “Please, I need you.” She kisses his hip hiding her smiles and slides her fingers out of him, she grabs the lube again and pours it onto the dildo and spreads it over the plastic appendage. She smiled and happened to take a look at the clock.

“I think it’s time to call Thomas, is that okay?” Clay nods, she grabs her phone and was first going to just call him but decided that facetiming him would be more effective. She sets the ringing phone right next to them and teases Clay by tracing his entrance with the dildo. Thomas answers and she enters Clay, holding his hip and slowly pressing in, until Clay grabs her ass and pulls her in harder. He moans loud and Noelle joins him as she is also fucked.

She tries to talk to Thomas but his connection is too bad. So he hangs up and calls back with a normal call. She answers.

“Hi!” Noelle answers, out of breath and panting. “I was trying to facetime you to show you something beautiful but sadly we don’t have a good connection. Sad~.” Noelle purrs into Clay’s ear, which is also right next to the phone as she continues to slowly pull out and push in, groaning quietly herself.

“I- What are you doing? You have your sexy voice on!” She smiles and feels Clay wraps his arms around her and his legs as she starts moving fast, causing his moaning to get louder and squeezing her with every jolt of pleasure he feels from her grazing his prostate.

“Mm I’m doing Clay.” She smirks and nips at Clay's jaw. “You know what I meant right~ I’m doing Clay.” She hears fumbling on the line and knows Thomas is taking off his clothes. She whispers to Clay. “Let him hear how pretty you sound. Let him know you’re here.”

“T-Thomas! Ugh-ah I-I FUck.” Noelle would thrust in deeper or harder when he would try to speak and watch as his eye would roll back in his head. She herself was starting to feel herself getting closer to the edge and she knows Thomas doesn’t last long in bed. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck- FUCK!” Clay was gripping onto her anyplace he could, his back was starting to arch, his toes were curling on her back where his ankles were crossed.

“You sound so good, Clay.” Thomas was getting off to this by the sound of his voice and the random groans they could hear. Noelle taps Clay’s arm so he loosens them and takes him by surprise by pinning his biceps to the bed and starting to pound into him, hard and fast, but not too deep. Clay starts basically screaming, Noelle’s moans weren’t any quieter, both focused on their own orgasm’s getting cloers as Thomas listened and imagined what was happening.

Noelle and Clay start to sloppily make out as they get close, Noelle actually breaks first. As she is cuming she pounds into Clay, riding out her waves. Causing Clay to fall over the edge completely untouched and the hardest he has ever came.

Thomas muffled himself with his hand a few seconds after Clay. All of them panting, Noelle having collapsed onto Clay who is still out of it but is petting her hair.

“You two- are going to kill me.” Thomas huffs over the line, causing Noelle and Clay to smile. “What brought this on?” His phone call was becoming spotty and they don’t know if it was like that the whole time or if it was just starting.

“I was horny.” Noelle laughs a little as Thomas makes fun of her. “Your call is starting to break up, Doll.” Thomas said a glitchy goodbye after a while, staying with Clay as Noelle cleaned them up and made sure Clay was alright.

Noelle hasn’t been in this good of a mood in a while.

Leo and Clay knock on the door of Reg’s house, waiting patiently for their bestie to open the door. When Reg opens the door he is met with a rather uncomfortable looking Clay leaning against Leo who has the biggest shit eating grin on his face.

“Ummmm, did I miss something?” Leo’s grin gets even bigger as Clay turns red.

“Well-”

“Noelle fucked Clay so hard he can’t stand properly.” Leo cuts Clay off and receives a backhand to the stomach causing him to fold over a bit as he laughs. Reg can’t help but snort at them too. Walking, or limping, into the house the trio makes their way to the kitchen where a makeshift barber shop was set up.

“Okay so, Leo, you just want your head shaved right?” Leo nods and sits on the chair as he is scrolling through Finn and Logan’s joint tik tok account. Reg has noticed that's a coping mechanism for him when he isn’t around his boys. He can still see and feel the love from them even when they aren’t there.

Yes, Leo has somehow gotten the whole tiktok community to think he is homophobic… because he always duets their tiktoks in a way of making fun of them in a way they all know is just leo missing them, but some people don’t see it that way.

Like dueting their coming out video with him shoving popcorn in his mouth and then spitting it out when they kiss and acting disgusted and offended.

Leo lets Reg work on shaving his hair off while his eyes are closed and he just enjoys the chitter-chatter of his friends while his head becomes lighter physically and emotionally because his boys come back home tomorrow night.

They are coming back to him, willingly.

Leo is brought out of his meditative mindset when Reg pokes his head right above his left temple and says something that Leo misses.

“Huh?”

“You have a strawberry on your head.” Reg smiles at him and pokes his tattoo again.

“Oh yeah! I always forget I have that one until I shave my head again.” He smiles as he takes the mirror from Reg and looks at his hair and said tattoo. “I got it… in Georgia after I lost a bet. It’s my sweetest tattoo.” He hands the mirror back and Clay narrows his eyes at the chair from where he was leaning against the counter.

“Do I have to sit? Leo is taller than me and Eloise usually cuts my hair soooooo…. I vote he does it.” Clay sends them his usual blinding smile that convinces way too many people into giving him what he wants.

“Fine, but I can’t promise it will be good.”

“Thomas can always fix it.” The little smile that tugs at Clay’s lips is frankly adorable in Leo’s opinion. Leo has been with Clay through all his ‘relationships’ and no one has ever made Clay react like that.

He deserves to be this happy.

Leo gets to work on Clay’s hair, Clay usually gets the normal short on all sides and long on top. The top of his hair that he likes to have longer needs a trim though, so Leo lets Reg tell him what to do because they have been cutting their own hair since they were 12 because his parents said barbers and hairdressers were dirty.

Does Leo shave a bit too high in the back?

Maybe…

Does he tell Clay?

Nope! Because it’s kinda funny.

“What's the plan for your hair Reg? It looks nice long, honestly. 10/10 would smash. But, you said you had an idea but wouldn’t tell us.” Leo hops on the counter next to where Clay is leaning and causally bumps Clay a little. Making him catch himself and jolt a little from the soreness of his booty. Which again, bring on another smack to the stomach.

“I think.. I want a mullet.”

“The country lifestyle has really taken over you!” The two yeehaws high five and whoop a little.

“Non! I want a more, I don’t know, punkish maybe alternative style mullet? Does that make sense?” When the response is crickets Reg decides to pull of the photo of the man he saw with this hairstyle. “Make sense?”

“I think so, but your hair is curly and his isn’t so it isn’t going to look the same.”

“No shit Clay.”

“I was just saying!”

Reg smiles and rolls his eyes, Leo takes his phone. Looking closer at the picture he looks at Reg and then back at the picture.

“You can definitely pull this off. Let’s do it!” Setting the phone on the counter and hoping back off Leo pushes Reg down in the chair and gets to work. After cutting the first strand of hair he asks Clay to stand in front of Reg and hold the phone so he can look at the picture and work on the hair. Asking Reg how to do certain techniques.

Once the last cut is done, Leo once again looks at the picture and back at Reg.

“I think I did it…? I tried my best, dude.” Clay hands Reg the mirror. Holding the mirror up and looking at himself, Reg notices a few odd cuts but his hair is so curly that is styled right no one would notice. He feels this feeling, he doesn’t know what it is, but it fills his tummy and makes him feel like the person in the mirror is really him.

“I love it, I really really love it.” They stand and hug Leo, taking him off guard but Leo hugs back in the tight way he always does.

“I’m very happy I didn’t fuck it up. Also, point to me for making you happy enough to hug me.” They pull away and Reg can’t help but look at himself in the mirror again. He’s just waiting to look again and his hair is back to the military style cut he has had his whole life. It never does though.

“We should probably clean up, maybe we could sell our hair online and get some money.” Clay is looking into the closet where all the brooms are and pulling out three. “I would like to make it at least twenty more years before I keel over and if your brother sees this mess.. I give us two minutes after he gets home.” Tossing a broom at Leo, he does catch it, but accidentally hits the mirror out of Reg’s hand and it smashes to the ground. Loud enough to hear the mirror break.

Oh shit.

“Leo! That’s seven years of bad luck!” Leo rolls his eyes, Reg always talks about superstitions and Leo being the smart man he is. Doesn’t believe in them.

“Reg, that's not real. I have broken many mirrors and have never had bad luck.” He starts cleaning up the glass with said broom, he makes a pile of glass and hair. Going to grab a dust pan he just does his thing while he feels two sets of eyes on him. “What?”

“Leo, you literally have the worst luck.”

“No I don’t! Now get to cleaning maid boy!” Clay flips him off.

“I’m gonna turn on music as we clean like the children of god we are, after we should make food because I’m a hungry bitch.” Reg is tapping on his phone and turns on Monsters by All time Low, before grabbing his own ‘broom’ which is the only one left.. The little hand broom, so they are on their knees like Cinderella.

Leo walks into the apartment, it's empty, obviously. He sets his keys on the counter, automatically turning on some music from the same station he was listening to at Reg’s while they made dinner and cleaned up. He sits on the couch, scrolling through his phone for a bit, just mindlessly looking at things when he gets a text from his mom.

Text from: Mother Goose

8:27pm

Hi Merigold, I wanted to text you and tell you about how my check up went. I meant to do it a while ago but forgot when Peanut decided to try and eat my hair while I was grooming him. I was told I need to get another aid for my right ear because my hearing has deteriorated too much for me not to have one anymore. So now your mama is definitely going to start learning ASL, I think you should too.

8:29pm

Mama you know I don’t want to learn how to sign

8:29pm

But I’ll try for you

8:30pm

Thank you Goldie Locks! I need to go do my beauty routine before heading to bed! Peanut and I miss you baby.

Image.4457

Leo smiles at the picture of his mom sticking her tongue out in the same way Peanut is in the photo, he misses them a lot and it was really really hard the first week he was living here because he couldn’t take Peanut out and just escape the world.

But now he copes by letting Logan color in his back tattoo with scented markers as Finn lets him rest his head on his lap while he reads to them. Leo has learned that Logan shows his love in many different ways, but his favorite is drawing on the people he loves.

Connecting Finn’s shoulder freckles into shapes.

Coloring in Leo’s back piece.

Drawing a mustache on Sirius when he is asleep in random places.

He paints the Dumias’ kids nails and ‘tattoos’ them with a washable marker. Ever since they met Leo and Clay they have been interested in tattoo’s, having never seen Logan’s own tattoo.

Randomly drawing tiny smiley faces with an ink pen on his teammates.

Once he colored Dumo’s toes orange while he was sleeping on the couch while Celeste and the kids watched.

He writes little quotes on Celeste's left palm.

He can’t express his feelings with words, so he does with actions instead. Leo loves it, Logan has never colored the tattoo on his back in the same way more than once, and it always looks beautiful.

Fuck… He misses them. Then remembers the game is on live right now, so he turns it on to watch his boys play against Ravenclaw. He ends up falling asleep as Kuny gets interviewed in the locker room.

He will see them tomorrow.

#leo knut #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #james potter #thomas walker #Clayton Bruss #o'knutzy #o’knutzy #lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast

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fanficshiddles · 4 years ago

Text

Zigzag, Chapter 1

Summary: Grace, a journalist, hears of a new serial killer in the city. Who seems to be choosing his victims carefully, some say they deserved it. Others say killing is wrong, no matter what they’ve done… But Grace does her best to find out information about him. Unknown to her that it’s her lovely, goofy boyfriend Tom Hiddleston. Who works for an oil company and treats her like a Queen.

I’ve made up a city name just for the sake of it, but it’s based in the UK.

Warnings: Obviously murder, violence, choking (both for murder and kink). Super tooth-rottingly-sweet fluff too. And smut. Of course. Some D/s stuff.

The leather belt tightened around the man’s neck, no matter how hard he struggled he couldn’t get free. He could feel the life being drained out of him, his oxygen lessening with every passing second.

‘You deserved this.’ A deep and calm voice said into the man’s ear, right before the life was taken from him.

The man fell to the floor with a thud. The killer stood and flexed his belt in his hands before putting it back on casually. He dragged the body over to the wall and propped him up, folding the man’s arms over his chest. Taking a blade out of his pocket he made a deep cut into the man’s left cheek, in a zigzag mark.

Looking around, he then took a few steps backwards and admired his work. With a nod of approval for himself, he headed off down the dirty alley.

Climbing the wall at the end with ease, he jumped down the other side and landed in the city park. He broke into a steady jog until he was near the park entrance, then he pulled off his balaclava and leather gloves and stuffed them into his rucksack. He slung it back over his shoulder and headed for home.

As soon as he stepped inside, he could smell something delicious. He made his way to the kitchen after dropping his bag by the door and found his girlfriend, Grace, in the kitchen. There was stew cooking in the slow cooker.

Grace hadn’t heard him come in, she had music on and was too busy singing along to her favourite song while she did the dishes.

But large hands on her hips made her squeal and she jumped, almost dropping said dishes. She turned around and looked up, wide eyed.

‘Tom! You sneaky bastard.’ She laughed and hit his chest, making him laugh.

‘Nice to see you too.’ He grinned and leaned down, capturing her lips with his.

She moaned as he pressed into her. She could feel his bulge evident against her.

‘Someone seems happy to see me.’ She whispered over his lips.

He chuckled and started kissing down her neck. ‘I’ve been thinking about you all day.’ Tom purred, his hands sliding up and down her sides.

‘Work was just so interesting, huh?’ She giggled as his hands slipped under her top and he lightly stroked her skin, round to her back.

‘Always is.’ Tom hummed. ‘How long before dinner?’

‘About twenty-five minutes.’ Grace said, glancing at the timer.

‘More than enough time.’ Tom grinned and lifted her up over his shoulder, making her squeal and laugh.

‘Such a charmer.’ She giggled as he carried her upstairs to the bedroom.

He gently tossed her onto their bed. She rolled over and tried to crawl away, but Tom moved over the top of her and playfully tickled her sides, making her laugh as she collapsed under him unable to move. He rolled her over onto her back.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’ He teased and leaned down to kiss her hungrily.

‘Maybeeee you need to tie me up so I can’t go anywhere.’ She replied once he stopped kissing her, she bit her lower lip and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

Tom frowned and raised an eyebrow at her. ‘We don’t have long, darling.’

‘Pleaseeee. Use your belt?’ She suggested, glancing down his body and licking her lips.

‘You are certainly full of surprises, my kinky little minx.’ Tom chuckled and started unbuckling his belt as he loomed over the top of her.

She almost came on the spot just watching him. He looked so strong, so powerful. And he was. All the running he did and weight lifting, he kept himself in incredible shape.

She enjoyed sex with him, he was mind blowing. But she enjoyed taunting him sometimes, he was so damn nice all the time. Which she did love. But she also enjoyed it rough and sometimes spicing things up a little. Being submissive. She was slowly managing to get him to come round to the idea, too. Though he was always worried about hurting her.

Tom enjoyed it though, a lot more than he let on to her. When she was submissive around him, he was always hard in an instant. Unable to control himself sometimes.

Grace put her hands out on front of her, squirming excitedly as he looped his belt around her wrists. Tightening them nicely, making her gasp.

‘Too tight?’ Tom asked.

She shook her head, calming his concern. Tom then lifted her hands up and tied the end of his belt around the headboard.

‘You certainly seem rather skilled with tying.’ She grinned.

‘Mmm, certainly when it’s tying beautiful women to my bed.’ He growled playfully and started kissing her again.

Even though they were short on time, he still took his time kissing down her body as he flipped her shirt up over the top of her breasts. Making sure to hit all her favourite spots, making her moan and whimper. She arched herself up against him when he softly licked just below her naval.

‘I wonder what kind of surprise you have for me down here.’ He said teasingly as he tugged at her jogging bottoms, peeling them down her thighs.

‘Why don’t you hurry up and find out.’ Grace said breathlessly.

Tom chuckled and pulled her joggings right down and off. He kissed up her ankle and licked his way back up. Growling deep at the fact she wasn’t wearing knickers. But he made good use of that and pushed her thighs wide open before diving in.

Grace cried out in pleasure as he worked his magic down there. Licking and sucking in all the right ways, slowly moving over her throbbing clit. She was already wet for him as soon as he started touching her downstairs in the kitchen. No other man had ever made her feel the way Tom did. Nor had she been treated so amazingly either, Tom had eyes only for her and always made her feel like a Queen.

When he slipped two fingers into her and curled them forward, hitting her g spot as his tongue lapped over her clit, she cried out in pleasure and came over his face. Tom growled like a mad man as he slurped up as much as he could.

With timing in mind, he crawled up over her body, licking his lips as he shoved his trousers down far enough. She wrapped her legs around him when he positioned himself between her legs, his cock brushing against her cunt.

‘Please, Tom! Hurry up and take me!’ She begged.

And Tom was unable to resist when she begged. He thrust in home to her, both of them moaning loudly as he built up a steady rhythm. Grace moved underneath him, meeting his thrusts. When she squeezed around him, that drove Tom wild. He gasped loudly, his head falling down to her shoulder as he slammed into her.

‘Oh fuck, yes!’ Grace cried out.

Tom started grunting as he kept up a rough pace, his balls slapping against her lewdly. She started cumming again on his cock, then Tom followed not long after, spilling into her. Her walls gently squeezing him.

‘Ohhh fuck.’ Tom moaned, slowly pulling out and rolling over beside her. Completely spent.

The sound of the timer going off could be heard from downstairs.

‘Perfect timing.’ Tom chuckled, unable to resist squeezing at her breast again before he untied her.

‘I think… We should go for round two after dinner.’ Grace said once she got her breath back. Tom rubbed her wrists gently, making sure she was ok as he helped her to sit up.

‘I think we should too. I will be able to take my time with you properly.’ Tom grinned, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

‘Oh god, you’ll kill me with your teasing. That was bad enough.’ She said playfully and pushed at his chest, making him laugh.

‘It’s not my fault. You’re just too cute to resist rushing with.’ He hummed, grabbing her arm and pulling her into him so he could steal another kiss before letting her go.

‘Well… One condition if I have to endure torture later.’

‘Anything, darling.’

‘You wear your leather gloves?’ She asked a little shyly, making Tom grin.

‘Of course. Who’d have thought you’d have such a thing for leather.’ He chuckled as she slipped off the bed and pulled her top back down, then grabbed her jogging bottoms and pulled them on.

‘I don’t know what it is about them… They just make me weak at the knees when you wear them.’ She blushed.

Over dinner, they talked about their day. Tom worked for an oil company high up in the offices, very well paid. Grace didn’t need to work, but she was a journalist for one of the biggest newspapers in the city, The People’s Press, and she enjoyed it. Even if news had been a bit slow in the city of Hurnth lately.

They were just finished eating when one of their friends rang, asking if they wanted to go for some drinks. Tom said they would be there.

‘Awww.’ Grace pouted. ‘I thought you were going to ravish me after dinner.’

Tom cupped her face and kissed her pouting lips. ‘Don’t worry, love. We are both off tomorrow, so I can keep you up all night.’ He purred.

‘Fair point.’ Grace giggled.

Grace got changed and was ready to go, Tom met her at the door and she noticed he was wearing his gloves. She clenched her thighs together. ‘Ohhh, Tom… You have to be wearing them when we go out.’ She whined.

‘Why? Whatever is wrong with my gloves?’ He mocked, holding his hands up and wiggling his fingers.

‘I’m going to be soaking all bloody night.’ She huffed, grabbing her coat. Tom quickly took it from her and helped her with it on, making sure to deliberately brush his fingers over her bare arms, making her shiver as she felt the leather.

Instead of getting a taxi, they decided to walk to the pub since it was only fifteen minutes down the road. Tom took Grace’s hand while they walked, which of course was more torture for her. Especially since he kept rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand.

‘You’re going to be the death of me, I swear.’

‘So you keep saying, my darling Grace.’ Tom grinned, giving her hand a squeeze.

They met their friends at the pub, there was a nice group of them. They all got a table and ordered some drinks. They were having a good catch up when there was a news bulletin that came on TV. Silencing everyone in the pub.

‘We have just found the body of a man by the name of Ronald Sugden on Contine Avenue. Police are investigating but it seems to be linked to the previous five murders from this past year. We are almost certain it’s the same person, so we urge the public to be cautious and to not take any risks. Stick in groups and if anyone sees anything suspicious, let us know.’

‘Wasn’t he a suspected paedophile?’ One of their friends, Matt, asked.

‘Yeah, he was being investigated the last I heard.’ Tasha said.

‘Well, good riddance he’s dead. He won’t be sneaking around the school anymore.’ Grace said as she took another sip of her drink.

‘But looks like there’s a serial killer on the loose. Which isn’t so good.’ Adam said as he put his arm around his wife, Tasha.

‘Weren’t the previous five people bad too?’ Evelyn asked the group.

They all mumbled and nodded. ‘I believe so.’ Sonia said. ‘One of them broke into the nursing home, gave some of the older people a right fright and one had a heart attack.’

‘That’s right. I did an article on that.’ Grace nodded.

Tom put his arm around Grace. ‘If there is a killer on the loose, we better be careful. No going out after dark for any walks.’ He said, concerned.

‘I’m sure we’ll be fine. Seems like he goes for bad men anyway.’ Grace assured Tom, leaning into him.

‘But still. Can never be too careful.’ Tom said quietly, brushing her hair back from her forehead.

#tom hiddleston #fan fiction #zigzag #au!Tom #fluffy #and not so fluffy #serial killer

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voidcat · 4 years ago

Text

– a case of bad luck

3. making a scene

m.list ; prev ; next ; wc: 2.7k

a/n: rmr when i said i'd not post a chapter befre writing at least one chapter ahead? ahahaha anyways,,, here's wonderwall. song name mentioned at the end of the chapter!!

He doesn’t show his face for the next few days.

The feeling of being watched goes away with him, despite knowing it’ll be over shortly.

Finding things to occupy your mind starts off easier than you thought, no one bats an eye to it either. Slowly rumors start to spread about the boy who hasn’t shown his face in weeks.

Exes complain and bad mouth, friends stick around and make excuses, some believe he ran off to chase a dream or start a new life; a theory from each head, all speculating, not even close to the truth of it.

Then comes the news reports, a close friend must’ve heard from the cops, body found dead, covered in bruises. ‘They say he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, crossed an alley too narrow at a time too late.’ Nobody speaks of the bodies found with him, someone must’ve messed with the crime scene.

“So, how are things going with him?” a voice from your right snaps your attention.

What?.. You stare at your friend, then realize she must mean Dazai.

“Not much. He’s still in town, we hang out sometimes.” The lie slips off smoothly yet they seem disappointed at your answer. Then remembering what he claims to have said to them, it makes sense in a way, although a dumb way it is.

“Do you think he was murdered?” “What could he have done to die a brutal way?” they join the flock of gossipers. Nothing new or exciting to do recently, taking a guess has become the new sport, as if a correct guess could earn them something of a meaning.

You close your ears to the same whispers of different voices and try focusing on what’s at hand. Maybe you should remember what it is for first.

The dreaded feeling comes back after few more days and with it, so does he.

Waiting in the same spot just like the last time, another suspicious smile decorating his face, accompanied by fresh bandages. Rolling your eyes at the sight of him, you look for a means to escape, even just for one more day but your friends spot him short after, wave their hands at him and push you to his direction.

Lovely.

A cloying voice to match that smile, he greets you first. “Hello darling-“ “Don’t call me that.” You cut in. He pays no mind.

Like last time, the two of you begin to walk, ignoring the curious looks of your friends focused on your back. “Have you thought about my offer recently?”

“Honestly? I forgot.” You expect a raised eyebrow or a glance thrown your way at the very least. “I have a life of my own, you know.” He shows no sign of emotions or annoyance.

“And so do they.” He shrugs and looks at the each store window you walk by. It’s the air within him, that rubs you the wrong way, you decide. The way he talks as if he is discussing over what to eat for breakfast when it’s lives, living breathing lives you’ve spent your whole life with that he threatens.

Exactly how many times has he done that to not care at all?

Another answer- no, a possibility, an explanation to this lies in your mind and you brush it off –or try to do so. It’s cruel, maybe not exactly but such an idea shouldn’t come to your mind so easily, no matter how… logical it sounds to be.

“What do you want me to do? What do you expect me to say? Just blindly agree?” your steps begin to get louder, more pressure applied to each one you take.

Then his voice rises, a stretched out ‘ah’comes first, “Bella, you’re making a scene,” he makes a move to drape an arm over your shoulder as you take a step forward to escape it. “-especially when you don’t even have the slightest clue what I’m asking for.” And comes back the empty tone of voice with his last words.

Few steps ahead there’s a turn you can take. You wonder if he will stop when you part ways, will he wait, walk after you to grab your arm and make you follow him again? Another voice tells you instead he will keep walking ahead, not even sparing a glance your way, already aware you’ll fall defeated to fear or curiosity only to trail after him again.

But still, the possibilities are still worth the risk, no matter how true he is to his threats, it’s better than to walk into an alley with him again.

People around walk on and continue their lives, out to enjoy the sun or to hang out after their not-so-busy lives. You don’t cross the street at the lights like you did the last time.

From the corner of your eye you peak at him but the bandages cover a good portion of his face, not that he is loose with his expressions and mimics. You focus on the walk again.

“Whatever it is, it must be something dirty, or risky, considering you’re threatening me into this.”

“Now now, don’t flatter yourself just because you have an ability. It isn’t anything big, just a small chore I don’t want to deal with.”

“From the way you talk, the list can go from taking the trash out to murder y’know…” To this, he just lets out a dry laugh. You’re unsure if it’s a good thing or not that he doesn’t even deny it.

The scenery around begins to change slowly, store by store, people by people. Maybe this is a good time to take a turn right or back, before ending up in a part of town who knows where. Nearby you spot a pot of flowers and stop as you reach it. A checkpoint, of sorts. It used be enjoyable at least, to have little checkpoints of your own on paths you took daily, on streets you weren’t familiar with. Stores, a pavement stone sticking out, a cat that sleeps in the same place all day, all to yourself, –as if a checkpoint could actually serve you as if life is a video game.

As you stop, he does too. “That’s fair.” He shrugs, “but it’s nothing big. I just want you to capture this guy by the end of tonight.”

Narrowing your eyes, you observe his face, “why, is the mighty Dazai incapable of such a simple task or does he carry an infectious disease of sorts?”

“Neither,” crossing his arms behind, he rests his head. “I just don’t feel like doing it.” Unbelievable.

It’s your turn to cross your arms this time, take a step back and balance your weight, just to say alert. “So let’s say that I agreed to this, will you get off my neck? Even if it fails?”

“Ah, bella, failure isn’t an option in your case.” You wince at nickname, again, and positive why he avoided the first question. Like it or not, getting involved in even the tiniest task would link you to the mafia somehow, an accomplice, even if he says he will leave you, there’s no guarantee someone else won’t show up. And this time with a better excuse to use, that’ll get worse for you if the said person is tortured or murdered.

“Okay, I… have a song in mind but-“ you look around and down and around and at his face again, he seems to be waiting for you to finish whatever it is you’ll say. Straightening up, you speak the next words with more confidence, no matter what, showing any signs of weakness or submission is not an option. “-even if this whole ability thing is real, I doubt it will work unless it’s night time.”

He waits there for a moment, looking more like he dozed off then considering what you’ve just said. “Alright!” he claps his hands in front of him suddenly, “I’ll be waiting by the door around 8. Don’t make me wait.” “wait!-“

Coat wavering in the air, he turns and continues walking the direction you two were following.

Your ‘How the hell am I supposed to find an excuse to get out at 8?’ waits on the tip of your tongue, his shrinking form looking more and more punchable with each passing second. Waiting a little longer to make sure he’s gone, though it isn’t important since he made it clear he knows where you reside, you begin to walk back home.

Now each word spoken, his gestures, moves and his voice start to come back at you one by one. Want it or not, you did agree to become an associate to them, even if it’s a weak link. A disposable one, easy to trace, not important enough to protect. Taking one arm off, you hold your bag in front and search for your earphones.

If you’re really going to do this, that ability thing better be working. Typing in the song title and you click play, putting it on repeat, that might help get you in the mood at least.

A dinner like any other evening, occasional chitchat mixed with the clanking of cutlery. Your cat peaks from the door frame and goes back into the living room, leaving the three of you alone. Few nods here and there, hums instead of ‘yes’ and ‘no’s.

You consider if you should try to sneak out or make up a lie to go out, though there’s no guarantee on the latter that they’ll allow. That is, until you see alcohol in the mix and stay silent, then offer once to refill their glasses and refuse “No thank you, it’s a school night after all.”

Pleased with your reply, their attention is back on talk about their day, few complaints here and there, and soon after they grow tired. Dimming the lights and burning an incense stick in a far corner of a room helps to set the mood.

“You seem tired father, why don’t you go to bed earlier tonight?” he doesn’t even loom up from his cigarette but the heavy eye lids suggest he is keen on the idea.

“Mother, didn’t you say you have an early meeting tomorrow? It’s better to sleep now and review the papers in the morning than to stay up all night.” If she suspects your sudden interest in her schedule, she doesn’t make a comment. And always being the first one to go to bed, she puts the documents into a neat pile and gets up first.

You wait for the sounds to come to an end and glance at the nearest clock. 8.05, not bad. Who is he to complain when he didn’t even bother to ask if it works for you anyway?

Tiptoing to the door and grabbing the keys, you ignore your cat’s curious gaze and grab your shoes.

Like he said, he waits 20 meters from your house.

“Ready?” he offers his arm, which you ignore.

Putting on your earphones and pressing play, you let out a breath. “Just lead the way.”

With music in your ears, the journey there goes faster.

At first you lend an ear to Dazai, seeing his mouth move, but once it’s clear he’s just babbling about some random thing, you let your focus loose and allow the tune to surround you.

Losing count on how many times the song replayed, you eye Dazai, waiting for a word on at least what you’ll do.

And as if on cue, he stops whatever nonsense he was sputtering and that tone comes out of his mouth again. You make a mental note to control your body language better in the future.

“It’s just one man, slightly taller than me, built in but not very bright. He should be easy to spot in the next turn to the left, I doubt he got company.”

Turning the volume down, you slow your steps to match his pace. “So he is just… there? Why would he even walk into a trap?”

“Oh he isn’t! But he will arrive in-“ he pulls out his phone to check the time, “-in half an hour.” as his voice starts to get more excited, not genuine like a kid’s, but fake, you get a bad feeling in his intentions –worse than before.

“What if it doesn’t work and I cannot use my ability?” you ask and immediately regret upon seeing a smile on him, as if he was waiting, –who are you kidding, of course he was waiting! “Well that sounds like a you problem, doesn’t it?” he says with a shrug.

“Good luck! I’ll be back in an hour!” he turns around and walk into a shadowed corner before you can run after him.

Eyes fixed on where he was standing a while ago, with that smile on his lips, you mutter to yourself, “What the hell…”, and turn the volume back up.

In the remaining minutes to his arrival, you’ve taken off your earphones, humming to yourself and waiting by the corner.

By the time he arrives, you watch him look around for a minute then walk into the alley with ease.

“Hello, sir! If you’re not busy at the moment, can I borrow 5 minutes of your time?” Adding a sweetness to your voice isn’t hard but he seems vary of you.

Who wouldn’t be? In the dead of the night, a high schooler appearing in an alley when they’re supposed to have a meeting.

“Oh please, it’s nothing big. You see, I’ll be auditioning for a band and I’m waiting for my friend before we go in.” You wave your hand like it’s nothing. “And though I know I’m somewhat decent, I need actual criticism from someone who won’t sugarcoat it for me. Would you like to hear me sing?”

He doesn’t look impressed, nor does he look like he wants to deal with a brat. But twisting his lips once and looking around for a sign of arrival, it’s clear he prefers to hear you once and get rid of you for good.

“Okay and before we begin, if you understand the lyrics, please don’t get any ideas. The actual theme and story of the song lies in the verse.” You flash a smile when he raises an eyebrow, maybe it was a stupid thing to say, it’s not like everyone can understand a song in a foreign language on first listen, even if they know the language.

Pulling out your phone, you press play, keeping rhythm to the beat with your foot and drum your fingers to your leg.

“I am not, I am not, I am not, I'm alive, live-” you begin singing and close your eyes for a brief moment.

Perhaps you should’ve picked a… more convenient song, instead of spending your day til dinner listening to this.

But would another one be as interesting as this to witness? It’s a hard no, of course not.

Yet this doesn’t help silence the creaking sounds from earlier leave your head. And now those mixed with the song itself, sends a shiver. Would that happen to me if I sang it in a moment of weakness?

You wait with your back to the cold wall, check the time again and like clockwork, faint footsteps reach your ears.

It’s Dazai’s face to show itself first, peaking from the street opening like your cat did today during dinner. He spots you, and him, and his expression changes suddenly.

Unsure what he thinks of this, you decide don’t want to learn it, or any other expression of his now that you’re at it. Decoding him means knowing him, to an extent, and this also means spending time with him, getting closer to him. None of which you’re eager to participate in.

As he opens his mouth to say something, you push yourself off the wall and take a step to your right to avoid colliding.

“There. I’m going home.”

Steps long and fast, you leave immediately, putting as much distance as possible. Hands into fists, moving in sync with your legs and your gaze focused ahead. It seems trip back home will go faster than it was to get here. You ignore for the night how easily you could turn your back to him and just walk.

song: Crows - Rest in Bigger Pieces Remix by Car Seat Headrest

yep, thats the full name. if u listen to it, it'll make it easier, but if u dont, here's a brief summary:

the song is written for one of will's friends, cate wurtz (for one of her webcomics) the main theme of the song and the webcomic is in the verse but lyrics beside it are references to having sex at a park at night, hence the reader telling "dont get any ideas"

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thephantomofthe-internet · 4 years ago

Text

Read into Me Chapter 11: Love Story

Steve Harrington x Reader

CATCH UP ON THE SERIES HERE

Words: 4,771

Warnings: fire, injury-all end of season three things!

Author’s Note: Happy belated Strangers Things 3 Day! I wanted to get this up yesterday, but I didn’t have it in me to work. This is the end of the series, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! It was a fun little ride!

Series Tag: @divinity-deos @thecaptainsgingersnap @wolfish-willow @scoopsohboi @herre-gud-nej @clockworkballerina @maddie1504 @i-am-trash-so-much-its-scary @jisungiesluv @wildcvltre @stanleyyelnatsiii @n3wtscaseofniffler5 @peterparxour @linkispink1995 @a-big-ball-of-idk @used-avocado @mochminnie @sledgy14 @the-creative-lie @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @ggclarissa @voidnarnia @anonymousonion33 @awkwardnesshabitat @darkcrystal-wolf @hannahrisacher

Paris was a lonely city. You’d arrived alone, having not seen Steve since prom and still desperate to see him one more time. You’d selfishly kept his sweatshirt, wanting a piece of him to take with you to a different country. Your mother hadn’t picked you up from the airport, having sent a car instead. She didn’t seem much interested in speaking to you after months apart; she was much more interested in redecorating her new condo and talking about her fiancé. You met him, a French fop named Jean-Pierre at least fifteen years her junior. He was nice enough, although a bit fruity for your liking. His interests were more on the modeling jobs your mother was getting him. She had no time for you, which was fine since your lessons at the salon began immediately.

You and thirty-five other young hopefuls spend your days locked in a studio with abundant resources and endless models and objects to sketch. And you hated it. You hated the long, rambling lectures from the artists who came to the salon to preach the values of the school and the importance of French art. They alternated between speaking in French and English without explaining themselves as they switched tongues. Your French language skills were nonexistent, so the lectures were exhausting and endless. The only time they ever seemed to help was when they brought you all to the Louvre to examining the long dead French men who’d made the museum possible. There, you could at least sketch out the greats and enjoy the beauty of the art. Inside the studio, you felt as though your head was going to explode. The lectures spoke too loudly and loomed over you without warning or word, you weren’t allowed your headset or Walkman in the studio to combat them, and the smell of various paints and clays made your stomach churn. The girl who’d taken up the easel next to you, a little German named Lisle, had taken to making clay pots and sculptures and the sound of her pottery wheel mixed with her incessant humming made you want to commit manslaughter. It didn’t help that the smell of the brown clay invaded your sinuses and made you sneeze violently. You dreaded the salon. But you dreaded being at home more.

Your mother had hired you a French tutor, utterly horrified by the fact that you hadn’t been practising. You tried to tell her that, despite her assumptions, Hawkins High had stopped offering a French elective two years before you started there.

“You cannot live in Paris without speaking French! It won’t do!” she moaned. Jean-Pierre was already on the phone, speaking fast into the receiver. You didn’t see what the big deal was. Everywhere you went, people spoke enough English to communicate with you fine. It didn’t occur to you till after dinner that if you were to study in the country, you’d need the language to understand your lessons.

So you got a French teacher, a short tempered older man who insisted on being called Monsieur Bérnard. His greying whiskers moved sharply as he spoke and he often spit on you as he taught proper pronunciation and conjugation. He ranted and raved all afternoon, disgusted by your apparent lack of an ear for languages and your doodling on the edges of notebook paper instead of working. You’d go from sensory overload in the salon to being bullied by a Freud-looking asshole each day with no room for a break or a breath.

You lived for weekends. Rest was very well thought of in the city so the hell spawn tutor didn’t work and the salon locked its doors. You were allowed to wander the city at your leisure, your mother glad to have you out of the apartment. You’d spend most of your days sat at a café near the Eifel Tower, a prime spot to tourists. Every day, you’d bring your sketchpad and try to draw out the profiles of those you passed you by. You spent two weekends working on a sketch of people sunbathing on the lawn in front of the tower. But it seemed you left all your talent in Hawkins. You’d spent so long drawing familiar faces back home, now that you were away from your nest, you found yourself without the skill to capture the faces around you. It occurred to you that you knew the faces of Hawkins far too well. They were engrained in your mind, your hand working like a stamp to put them on the page. France was full of strangers. You didn’t know how to understand them like you understood Hawkins. France wasn’t home. You couldn’t work out in a world of strangers.

You couldn’t work in the salon either. It was too much. Everyone was constantly showboating and trying out-do one another. You couldn’t work with people spying over your shoulder. You felt judged and insecure about what you could do. You didn’t want to be watched as you tried to make art. It didn’t help that you had no idea what to make. The closest thing you’d gotten done is that sketch of the Eifel Tower and that wasn’t something you couldn’t buy on the streets around the monument. You’d tried all the things that you couldn’t in your bedroom-paint splatter art, pottery, carving, paint pulling, mosaics. You never finished anything. The drive to push through wasn’t there.

When the loneliness and fear became too much to bear, you held Steve’s sweatshirt and cried. It still smelt like him; Irish Springs soap and Fabregè Organics shampoo and hairspray and a bit like sweat. It was nice though. You missed him. You tried to write him letters, but you knew that they wouldn’t get home before you did. You’d made up your mind that whatever the answer was, you were going home. Whether that meant deferring a semester or missing the first week of school you would go back to Hawkins. Still, you’d written over a dozen letters, all crumpled in your waste bin.

You waited until the last minute to finish something for submission. You’d tried to sketch your mother, to find who you knew in the fancy woman in front of you. With her bleached blowout and designer clothes, thirty pounds lighter and yellow gold jewellery glinting in the midday sun. She looked like the epitome of elegance, straight out of a magazine. The woman you remembered had greying roots and love handles, her only jewellery the wedding rings your father had given her. Europe had changed her into someone who you didn’t know and who didn’t seem to want to introduce herself to you. Nothing you drew seemed to capture the middle between who she was and who she is now. You realized in her profile that you weren’t a part of her life anymore, that she didn’t want you there. You were as strange to her as she was to you. You passed each other like ghosts in the hall, almost recognizable but hauntingly foreign.

The day before your final piece for submission was due; you got a letter from Steve. It only had one sentence.

“I should have asked you to stay.”

It was all you needed to hear to be inspired. You made your final project a tribute to him, mixing memories with unfinished letters building into his face. You used plain black ink to sketch his profile on the surface of the mess, building him into your loneliness. You only had your memory to recreate his face and your own letters to fill the canvas. Still, it was the only thing you’d done the whole time you were in the country that you were actually proud of. You didn’t finish it until the sun rose and you handed it off to be judged without a second thought, bleary eyed and exhausted.

You were on a plane home by the wee hours of July 4th.

Hawkins was a depressing place. After graduation, Steve found himself listless and at the hands of his father. He was a failure, a disgrace of a son. He was unready to start into the family business. His grades were pathetic. He had to get a job. Of course, with no job experience and late to the game, no decent place wanted him. The new mall only offered him one place of employment, Scoops Ahoy. And the uniform was embarrassing. Stupid sailor shirts and matching shorts, fucking knee socks and a corny paper hat. He looked like a certified geek. And his co-worker was a freak. Robin fucking Buckley did nothing but bug him all shift. It didn’t help that he had no friends without you, even Dustin had left for some nerdy science camp after the school year ended.

He was alone and lonely.

He tried to write you a half dozen times. But nothing seemed to make sense, nothing was worth telling you. What was he supposed to tell you? That he had become an even bigger loser overnight? He felt so utterly pathetic. He just wanted things to go back to the way things were. But what did that even looked like anymore? It wasn’t a life with Nancy, she’d dumped his ass, and it wasn’t a life with you, you’d left him for a different continent. He didn’t have a clue where he was going anymore. So he did what any lonely, practically friendless teenager did-he worked his ass off. Eight hours every day in the mall with smart ass Robin Buckley, waiting for the ground to suck him up. And sure, he tried to hit on the girls his age that came around. It was a good distraction from his broken heart. He’d made up his mind that he was ready to move on and try to date again. That he needed a girlfriend. That he needed to be cool again.

And then, Dustin came back and Hawkins started acting up again. He thought it was over. Those damn dogs were gone, the thing was closed, the kid was safe and acting like a kid. Everything had gone back to as close to normal as he’d seen it in awhile. But Dustin just had to find a secret code and Buckley just had to decode it and Lucas’s bitchy little sister just had to be small enough to fit into the vents and find a secret Russian elevator. And they just had to get stuck in it.

He couldn’t keep that damn kid from seeking out trouble. And yeah, it was kind of fun in a scared shitless kind of way, but it wasn’t worth getting drugged and beaten up and nearly dying for. And it certainly wasn’t worth getting tricked into thinking that he had feelings for fucking Robin. He could murder that kid for getting it in his head that he liked that girl. Robin was cool; he wouldn’t pretend that she wasn’t a decent friend to have at the end of the world. But he didn’t need the embarrassment of trying to ask out a lesbian. At least the reason for her rejecting him wasn’t that he was unattractive or lame, just that she didn’t dig dudes. He was cool with that. And at least he got to punch out a communist. If he could tell his father that without going to prison or being murdered by a Russian goon, he’d be proud. Fuck that, he was proud. He won a fight! He beat up a Russian spy! More than one, he beat some up while drugged out; at least he thought he did. He couldn’t remember much, other than watching Back to the Future with Robin. That movie was too confusing. And then he stole a car, he saved Nancy’s life, he set up that weird tower thing for Dustin-there was too much going on to even recognize how crazy he sounded. How crazy all of this sounded.

And then, the mall was on fire.

Your flight landed on the fourth of July at about ten fifteen in the evening. It took about forty-five minutes to get from the Indianapolis International Airport back to Hawkins. You were buzzing. Seven words had given you all the hope you needed to push you back to the states. Every fibre of your being was alive with energy, with excitement. You couldn’t wait for your grandfather to park the car, you jumped out as soon as you were settled in the driveway.

“Don’t you want to go upstairs and unpack?” your grandmother called after you as you booked it down the driveway.

You turned back “No, I’ll be back later!” you called. Steve’s car wasn’t in the driveway but you figured if anyone was home they’d know where he was. You bounded up the stairs, ringing the doorbell twice.

Mrs. Harrington came to the door in her bathrobe. “Oh, hello there…” she trailed off, obviously unable to remember your name.

“Y/N, hi it’s nice to see you, do you know where Steve is?” you asked, bouncing from your heels to your toes.

Mrs. Harrington narrowed her eyes “He’s at his job I assume. At the mall.” She said slowly.

“What mall?” you demanded. Mrs. Harrington’s eyes blew wide open and you realized that you were probably coming off like an insane person. “Sorry, I’ve been out of the country for about a month.”

“It’s where the Hawkins Laboratories were, off East Wood Road.” She pointed out the door towards the roads. You knew instantly that the fastest way to get there was through the woods. You ran through the backyards of your neighbours and into the woods. You didn’t like the Hawkins forests. They were dark and dim and poorly maintained. The county hadn’t been out to cut down potentially problematic trees on the few hiking paths in the woods. Burs caught your socks and twigs scratched your legs as you hopped logs to try to get there faster. They’d carved a road through the woods, you’d found it halfway to the mall, deserted and blocked off. You could see the bright orange flames from a mile away.

Your heart stopped dead in your chest. Steve was in there. You could cry.

Instead, you hopped the blockade, running down the road despite the calls of passing fire trucks and police. You didn’t care if they tried to arrest you, although you doubted that they could. It would be a waste of time to bother with you during an emergency.

The parking lot was filled with emergency vehicles. Massive streams of water were attacking the building. Luckily, it seemed the mall was closed, judging by the few people who were milling around not in uniforms. You sprinted into the crowd, looking around frantically.

Steve had been ushered into the back of an ambulance and draped in a bright orange emergency blanket. It wasn’t that cold but he felt as though he was freezing. The EMTs had checked his vitals and disinfected the wounds on his face and knees. As for the remaining drugs in his system, he chose not to mention them. He knew that the high would wear off eventually. Robin was sat next to him, equally bandaged up and silent, save an uncontrollable shiver. Wordlessly, Steve took the blanket off his shoulders and placed it over hers. He wasn’t that cold. Moreover, he just felt numb. He’d had this happen so many times; his face beat in, an otherworldly thing trying to destroy his life and hurt his family, a major building destroyed-it all felt familiar. It made him sick to his stomach to know that it was familiar. If he had anything left in his stomach he would’ve thrown up.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something running towards him. At first, he tensed. He didn’t know what it was and it could probably kill him. His heart stopped and then raced wildly. He held out an arm to protect Robin and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Steve!” you cried. He was in an ambulance. He was hurt. He was alive. You felt as if you could cry. In the span of fifteen minutes he’d gone from working to escaping a fiery building to missing in a fire to simply hurt. And hurt was just fine, you could handle hurt.

“Oh my god Steve, are you okay? Are you alright? I love you so much…”You grabbed his face, examining the bruises. You pulled him tightly to your chest, trying not to cry or freak out. You knew it wouldn’t help.

“I love you too…” he breathed into your ear, pulling you close to him. He recognized you by the smell of your hair, the feeling of your arms around him. He could cry. He didn’t believe you were real. But when you pulled away and his hand came to your face. You were real. And you were here. And he was safe. He was safe and alive. Feelings of relief rushed through his body. He wanted to cry, but the shock was too overwhelming for a tear to even drop.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper and hoarser than he’d ever felt it. “I thought you were still in Paris.”

“I came home early,” you chuckled, pressing a kiss to his jaw bone. “I didn’t get in.” That was the nicer version, the judges laughed at your final piece, they called it pedestrian. You should’ve been more upset, your mother was furious, but you couldn’t have cared less. You were free to go home. You could’ve thanked them for rejecting you.

Steve pulled away, looking you squarely in the eye. He wouldn’t have you give up on school to hang out with him in bum fuck Indiana. But you were telling the truth, it was written plainly all over your face. “Those bastards…” Steve murmured. You laughed, your eyes watery and throat thick. You were overwhelmed. You expected to come home and just see him in his element. You expected him to not necessarily want to see you. You didn’t expect a fire or Steve being injured or Steve to even be there at all. You pulled Steve back into your arms, you didn’t want to let go.

“I missed you so much…” you whispered. Steve’s arms came around your hips, pulling you in between his legs. He needed you here, to keep you in place for awhile.

“I missed you too…” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Did you get my letter?”

You looked up “Yeah I did…” you said “I wish I had written you, I tried so many times but I couldn’t find the words and-” Steve kissed you hard, stealing the words from his throat. He didn’t care if you didn’t write him back; this was the best thing he could’ve gotten from you. A letter wouldn’t do it justice.

You were lit up by his kiss. This is what you needed. No words could do the feelings he expressed in his kiss justice. You felt alive. You felt at home. Steve tried to pull away, but you pulled him back by his shirt, kissing him as if your life depended on it. Maybe it did. You couldn’t be sure anymore.

A loud clearing of one’s throat interrupted you and you pulled away to see Robin waving awkwardly. “Oh hey Buckley…” you muttered awkwardly. “How’s Samantha?”

“No clue, she never called me back.” The younger girl shrugged nonchalantly, hopping down from the ambulance deck. “I’ll catch ya later, Harrington.”

You turned your attention back to Steve, looking down at the material still in your fists. He looked ridiculous. “What the fuck are you wearing?” you asked with a laugh. Steve’s hands settled on your lower back, holding you in between his knees as if you’d run off if he didn’t.

“Oh this? This has been my whole summer.” He groaned “I’ve been captaining a boat on an ocean of flavours.” You couldn’t help but cackle, you had no idea what he was talking about but he seemed so serious.

“And by that you mean?” you lifted the fake red neckerchief attached to his shirt, running the material between your thumb and forefinger.

“Ice cream store in the mall,” he pointed to the embroidered Scoops Ahoy logo on his breast.

“You’re kidding…” you shook your head as if to shake the idea out of your mind. Steve’s fingers trailed the raggedy edge of your sweatshirt. Well, his sweatshirt, his last name and basketball jersey number were embossed on the back; he could feel the textured design on your lower back.

“I like my sweater,” he chuckled, reaching up to adjust the length of the drawstrings on the hood. You looked away, a bit embarrassed.

“I didn’t mean to keep it I just…missed you,” You replied “You can have it back.”

“Nah, it suits you,” he smirked “Besides, I want my girl in my stuff, it’s cute.”

“Your girl?” you grinned giddily, elbowing him in the ribs. “Since when am I your girl?” You liked the idea of being Steve’s girl. It had a nice ring to it.

Steve smirked, squeezing your hips in his hands. “Oh come on baby, you’ve been my girl for awhile…”

“Oh really? Well, I wouldn’t know since you’ve never asked me…”

You heard a loud yell and turned to see a set of paramedics carrying a stretcher towards you and Steve. They were sprinting and bringing a badly burnt and unconscious Billy Hargrove towards the ambulance you sat on. You quickly moved out of the way. Steve grabbed your hand, allowing you to tug him from the ambulance’s deck.

You only got a brief look at the teenager, but it made your stomach churn violently. You felt ill. You felt Steve squeeze your hand. You turned to look at him and saw how hollow his eyes were. You wrapped your arm around his middle. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” you said, trying to stifle a yawn. You were exhausted from your flight and your run here and the trauma that had smacked you across the face.

Steve noticed anyway “Did you just get here?” he asked, lifting your chin.

“My flight landed at ten, I came to see you as soon as I could.”

“You should’ve gone home to rest, I wouldn’t have been mad at you.” You looked absolutely exhausted. He couldn’t imagine what he looked like.

“I missed you too much to not see you. And what if you had gotten hurt, if you hadn’t made it out then I would’ve never forgiven myself…”

Steve wrapped his arms tightly around you, shielding you from the scene, as more mangled people were brought out. The beast must’ve fallen apart once the brain was destroyed. It looked as though a bomb had gone off. Steve squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to leave, but he knew that the FBI would be called and he’d have to talk to them again. He wanted you to go home, but that didn’t seem like an option now. Selfishly, he liked having you there, it was comforting to have you in his arms, squeezing him under his ribs and keeping him calm.

“I’m not gonna get hurt, I’m okay…we’re okay…” You nodded roughly against his chest. You felt as if you were burning up and freezing at the same time. You saw blinks of red flashing lights and sirens as one of the ambulances sped past. You were so thankful that he wasn’t on that ambulance.

“Yeah, I know, I’m not gonna let you out of my sight ever again.” Steve lifted up your chin, raising an eyebrow at you. “What? Last time I did you nearly died and for what? A shit job in the mall?”

“Well, not just for a job, I was helping Robin and a couple kids who were with us,” That wasn’t the whole story. Steve knew he’d have to tell you eventually about everything, but for now he was more than comfortable ignoring the looming problem beneath their feet.

“What a hero…” you giggled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Something had been bothering Steve for awhile now and he determined now was the best time to tackle the subject. He turned away from you, folding his hands in his lap.

“Did you mean it when you said that you loved me?” he asked quietly. Truthfully, he wasn’t certain that you meant it. Or if he had even heard you correctly. After Nancy, he wasn’t sure if anyone actually loved him back. He’d given so much of his heart away only to have it tossed to the floor and tread upon like it was nothing more than a cigarette butt. He wasn’t sure if he could trust that you meant it.

You let out a small sigh through your nose, crossing your arms over your chest. You were a bit embarrassed. You were half hoping that he would forget about it. Your response brought all of Steve’s hopes crashing down. “Yeah, yeah I do,” you admitted, rubbing your arms, having suddenly gone cold. “I will admit, I hadn’t planned on saying that this early, feels a bit middle school to say that you love someone before they’re even your boyfriend.”

Steve turned to look at you once again, a bit surprised. Your face had gone red, adorably red, but still very red and your gaze had turned down to the asphalt at your feet. He reached out and took your hand, interlacing your fingers with his. “Good,” he said with a smile. You turned up to look at him; brow furrowed “I thought I had like imagined it.”

“Oh…no you’re good.” You said slowly. He looked like a little puppy dog, his whole face was radiating sunshine; it was almost hard to look at. It was harder to not match his energy, to get drunk off it. Then again, no one was stopping you from just enjoying the moment. You let out a small breath, not so much heavy with sadness or regret, but simply exhaustion. You let your head rest on his shoulder, smiling softly despite the scene in front of you. If it weren’t for the smouldering building and the emergency vehicles surrounding the pair of you, it would almost be romantic. The fact that you were even trying to find romance in the scene felt a bit silly, but maybe that was what this was supposed to feel like. Finding love in a burning building was a bit dramatic, it certainly not what you’d expected for your life, but you determined that no matter what you’d keep Steve safe. You had no idea what was going on at this scene, you had no idea what happened. But no matter how scared you were, you knew that Steve must’ve been even more scared. You knew that you couldn’t protect him, the same way that he couldn’t protect you, but maybe together you could keep each other safe for awhile.

“I love you too, you know,” Steve said quietly, his gaze trailed on the smoke of grey smoke coming up off the extinguished fire. The front of the mall had crumbled and the giant neon ‘Star-Court Mall’ sign shattered on the pavement. You hadn’t seen the mall before the fire, you didn’t know what it was supposed to look like, but a cavernous jagged mouth probably wasn’t the design goal. Still, you turned your attention to the side of Steve’s face. He couldn’t face you, the tips of his ears bright red underneath his flat, sweaty hair.

You swallowed hard “I know,” you say softly. Steve turned to look at you, examining your face with a nervous expression. You smiled and nodded reassuringly “I know.” Steve smiled and laced his fingers with yours. He squeezed your hand tightly in his and you squeezed his back, the feeling of his hand squeezing yours the only feeling left in your body beyond the giddy buzz. You didn’t know how any of this worked, you didn’t know if you were doing this right, if there was a right way to do it. The buzz under your skin was two parts anxiety and one part excitement. But you didn’t pull away. You were glued to his side.

“You know, I think that was one of the first normal conversations we’ve ever had,” Steve mused.

You scoffed loudly rolling your eyes “That was not normal.

Steve shook his head with a small laugh “Yeah, I know…”

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maybebanks · 5 years ago

Text

You Know I’m a Minor Chapter 02

Link to Chapter 01

JJ Maybank x reader

WARNING: Abuse

JJ and his father quickly exit the police station. Before walking through the door, JJ sends me one last look that is incomprehensible.

I soft smile at him, but then Ward puts his arm around your shoulder.

Instantly, you jump back out of his grasp.

“What the hell is wrong with you,” you spit.

Ward just shrugs, “I’ll drive you home,”

“Oh so you get me arrested, and then act like my fucking Dad, and think I’d be okay with that?” you question, still hating this man with every bone in your body.

“Don’t be ridiculous, just let me take you home, sweetie,” Ward says.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you reply, before quickly running out the door, maybe on your own way home, or maybe to find JJ.

To your surprise, JJ hasn’t left yet. He looks to be sitting in his car, with his father who is in the drivers seat.

You hear muffled yelling from inside the car, “Do you know what you did to me boy?”

You step back, your mind telling you to look away, but your eyes stay glue to the car.

“Y/n!” Ward suddenly yells, you turn your head quickly.

What do you want?

“Y/n, are we clear, on the deal?” Ward asks, capturing your attention.

“What are you talking about? Why wouldn’t we be?” you dismiss him to get a look at JJ again, but Ward is blocking you completely.

“This is the last payment,” Ward says.

“No! No way! I never agreed to that,”

Ward rolls his eyes, “I pay for your bail, and that is the last time I-“

“You made the call and got me arrested you bastard!”

Ward shows constrained anger, he clenches his fists at his sides, veins popping out.

“Whatever. I’ll be in touch.” you tell him, then spin on you heels, running around the corner an back to your house.

—

“Uh hey dad,” you say quietly. It was as if as soon as you arrived at home, your confidence and usual personality faded into submission.

He ways sleeping on the couch, no doubt the result of day drinking.

He grumbles to you, you let out an exasperated sigh, placing a water bottle on his chest.

You expected him to ask where you were, but he didn’t.

“I got a call from the police station,” he grumbles.

Your stomach drops, “Um you..uh you did?”

“Yes, and as seeing that you’re here. You better pay me back for bailing you out,”

“Actually, you didn’t bail me out,”

“Then who did huh? You don’t need anyone else but me! You do what I say!” He charges at you, grabbing your face tightly.

“You’re right, okay your right. You bailed me out-I-“

“Shut up!” He screams, swinging his arm back and colliding his fist against your face, a punch.

“You’re just telling me what I want to hear?! Who bailed you out!?” He seethes, his anger evident in his aggressive tone.

Your lip is shaking as you recover from the blow. Standing up from the ground you face him.

“Ward,” you say timidly.

“Did I raise you to take hand outs?! That rich son-of-a-bitch is just as low as the rest of us! He’s no better of a father than I am!” Your Dad continues yelling.

You feel so small.

Faster than you expected, your father delivers one last kick to your side, causing impact your rib and his rough boot scratching your arm.

“Where is my booze,” he mumbles, then turns away from you as if you were nothing, which is what you felt like.

It feels like a half an hour later, when your father finally silences, probably sleeping in the couch again.

At this, you get up and see yourself in the screen door reflection. You can barely look at yourself, rubbing your fingers through your hair you collect yourself as much as you can and head out the door.

You were off to the drug store, to buy some bandaids to clean the cuts on your arm before the next morning.

When you arrive at the store, it is just about to close. The store owner nearly flipping the sign.

“Wait!” you exclaim, rubbing towards the door, placing your hands on the glass.

“Too late, Betty,” the old man says, he called all the girls Betty.

“Come on! Please Hal? I’m a regular,” you argue.

He looks at you, “get yourself cleaned up, and get some rest, sorry,” and with that he turns away.

“Ugh!” You groan, thrusting your arms.

The cut on your arms reopenes.

“Fuck me,” you mutter, bringing your hand to stop the blood.

“Need some help there, Betty?” A familiar voice suddenly asks.

“No, I’m fine,” you lie, but not looking for any more social interactions today.

JJ walks into the light, illuminated by the dim street light.

“JJ? Hey,” you say softly.

“Why so quiet, afraid someone’s gonna catch-“

“Shh! Just...can we get out of here, I can’t talk here, my house is like 15 feet that way,” you gesture towards the left.

“So you really are a pogue. How have I never noticed you,” he smirks, eyeing you up and down.

You blush, but brush it off as nothing.

JJ walks closer to you, instantly you tense.

“You’re bleeding,” he states, pointing to your arm.

“Yeah, I was trying to get bandanges, but Hal doesn’t like me enough,” you explain.

“What happened?” He asks, bringing his finger near your eye and brushing his thumb on another cut, on your face.

You flinch back, moving his tender gesture away.

“I tripped in the woods,” you answer.

“What woods?”

“Does it really matter? And besides, I should be asking you the same question,” you reflect, reaching up to touch his newly forming black eye, he quickly grabs your wrist.

You gasp softly.

“It’s none of your business. And nothing I can’t handle,” JJ shrugs, loosening his grip, it wasn’t harsh, just a shock coming from him.

“Okay, tough guy,” you say sarcastically.

JJ chuckles, “you wanna come home with me, I can clean you up,”

“That was foreword,”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” JJ assures.

You try and read his eyes, he was sweet, “Yeah, actually, that sounds nice,”

After a few minutes of walking, and talking a worry comes up.

You stop walking, so JJ looks at you, “at the station, your dad was pretty pissed. Are you sure he would be cool with me coming over?” you ask, trying to hide the nerves in your voice.

“Oh we’re not going to my place,” JJ replies nonchalantly.

“What? Maybe I should just get a bandage somewhere else..” you say uneasily.

“Relax, I’m staying at John B’s tonight. He doesn’t care if I bring girls over, you can meet all my friends. I’m sure they’ll like you,”

“To be honest I don’t really want to see people, I look like a mess,”

“Okay, well then I can tell them to give us some time. That cut still bleeding?” He asks.

“Not really,” you answer.

—

When you arrive at John B’s place, JJ leads you inside and helps you hop up on the counter. You whimper in pain when JJ pushes against your rib, but you try and make sure he doesn’t notice.

“Thank you,” you say as he bandages up your wounds, “you’re pretty good at this,”

“Yeah, well I get in a lot of fights. Mostly with kooks, as you probably know,” JJ responds.

“Hm, good. What id give to punch a kook,”

JJ laughs, “dang girl,”

“After all this, I think you should tell me about you’re whole blackmailing situation, I’d really like to swoop in on that,” JJ suggests.

“I don’t know..plus my guy thinks I’m done. I might tell you if you let me spend the night?”

“What was that with Ward Cameron picking you up at the station, is he your second dad or something?”

“No, he’s a fake. He’s the guy I’m blackmailing,” you admit, JJ had you at a vulnerable state, and you thought he deserved to know.

After explaining the whole situation to him JJ and you have become closer in one night than you’ve ever felt to anyone.

“Any more wounds I should know about?” JJ asks, holding his arms out to help you down.

“No, doctor,” You answer.

He scoffs with a smile.

Then JJ leads you to the room he’s staying in.

“Do you mind? If we sleep in the same bed?” JJ asks.

“No. I don’t know if I’ll be able to fall asleep though. I just feel...”

“Tense?” JJ finishes your sentence, he walks over in the room and picks up a small green backpack, then pulls out a white stick.

“Maybe this can help?” He moves a blunt between his fingers, then tosses you a lighter.

“You son of a bitch,” you smile, happy to get high if it meant undoing how weird you were feeling.

You sat on the bed and placed the blunt between your lips.

JJ moves closer to you and holds out his lighter, lighting you.

You breathe in, the rest of the night passing the blunt back and forth with JJ Maybank.

for you! : @milked-down-coffee @obsessedweirdo @voidsxnsets @maebanks

Chapter 03

#jj maybank #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #obx netflix #jj imagine jjxreader obx #obx jj maybank x you #outer banks #outerbanks #obx jj #jj outer banks #y/n outerbanks #outerbanks fanfic #outerbanks angst #abuse jj obx

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sadistgalore · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 6: When You Turn Your Back, She Pulls Out A Flask, And Forgets His Infidelity

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Melanie Martinez reference, anyone?

CW: Captivity, brainwashing/manipulation, implied torture, loss of hope/resistance, human trafficking mention, murder mention, r@pe mention, implied noncon, creepy/intimate whumper, drugging, infidelity

Harper finished scratching the 31st mark on the wall next to her, marking her first month in this hell. It was honestly a guess when the day ended and the next day began, since she was trapped in a dark room with no windows; she left to rely on her captor how much time passed in the real world.

All part of his stupid trust exercises, she assumed.

She sat back and curled up into her corner, trying to rest her sore and broken body. Just in the span of a month, her body was broken and bruised than it had ever been in her entire lifetime. Her broken arm was in a splint, her ribs and stomach area were filled with blue and purple bruises, and her arms and chest were scattered with shallow cuts. Her captor rarely gave her pain medication and when he did, it always seemed to come with a price.

“Aw, you want some Advil? You poor thing...be a good girl and kiss my shoes if you want to feel better.”

Not to mention the constant strain on her neck from sleeping on the cement floor with no blankets or pillows. It was a miracle the cell had a somewhat moderate temperature, she was never freezing to death.

Dark didn’t feed her that much, but he kept true to his word. As long as she behaved and said “please feed me, sir” before every meal, she got fed well. But the only meal she got was homemade pasta and meatballs, her favorite, but it just felt...wrong.

She had great memories of making pasta dough from scratch with her mom every Sunday when she was a child, and eating it with her father and brother. It was a generations-old recipe, and her mother always made sure Harper would promise to pass it down to her future children, to which her daughter did.

Now Dark took that from her and ruined it. He made it his, so that the same love and adoration she felt for her mother when she made it would be passed onto him. Harper had noticed that during their time together, that man needed control so he could manipulate her into whichever way he wants.

And Harper has felt it too, slowly submitting to him. She keeps telling herself that it’s for her brother but she’s not sure it is anymore. She’s tired of being beaten just for having a mind of her own, every “no” she says is just another bruise to him. She just wants to go home, but she knows she has to comply with his rules until then. If she just does what he says, what’s the harm?

The harm is you not knowing the difference between pretending to submit and true submission. If you teeter on the edge of a mountain too much, you’ll fall.

…

Maybe falling is better than staying with the dangers of the mountain.

Surprisingly, Dark has made barely any mention of their very first encounter, when he snatched her brother away from her arms and killed her father. All he cares about is her, no one else. She’s almost afraid to ask about what happened, in case Dark sold Harry to another country, or if he killed him just like her father. She wants to try and get any information she can about the Jaguars and Vault Dwellers, but it’s like Dark isn’t even associated with them; just her.

Just her.

Harper swallowed. She noticed Dark has been acting so much weirder around her lately; touching her more, even just staring at her body. Her mind drifted back to that human trafficking survivor her and Beth met, the poor girl being used and raped over and over and over-

“Anyone ever told you you look stunning covered in blood?”

Harper jumped as she was suddenly brought out of her thoughts. Her head shot up to the voice from the door, and saw her captor, not even hearing him unlock the door.

She dropped her eyes to the ground, and stuttered out a response since she was addressed.

“C-can’t say that anyone has, sir.”

Dark hummed. “Touché. Well, I think you do, and that’s all that matters, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

He knelt down to where she was curled up, and placed his hand on her cheek, forcing her to look at him.

“I know I haven’t been the nicest since we’ve met, but I think my lessons are working, little dove. You’re so smart, and are understanding this relationship so well. You’re mine, I’m the dominant one in this relationship, I make the rules and you follow them.”

Harper struggled not to cry.

“I think it’s time we take this to the next level,” he finished with a much too wide smile. Harper’s stomach dropped as she realized her suspicions were right. She stared at him with fear as he reached behind him, and suddenly pushed a rag into her face.

Harper screamed behind the rag, panicking as she couldn’t inhale oxygen.

She couldn’t breathe, get it off get it off get it off!

She struggled and tried to remove Dark’s hand from her face, pulling on his wrist as hard as she could. But eventually, she involuntarily shut her eyes as the drug finally consumed her.

“Huh,” Dark said to himself. “Didn’t expect her to fight back.”

He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text.

Emergency meeting- leaving for a week.

Edward Darmine looked back at his phone once he heard it buzz, barely even ten seconds of him sending the text.

What meeting? Is everything ok?

One of our bases got compromised in Delaware. I’m just going to see to it that everything is back in order. I’ll be fine.

Do you need me to help?

No, I’m fine, Helene.

You’re always “fine”, Ed.

There was a pause in the texts.

Please come home as soon as you come back. I miss you.

Edward rolled his eyes.

Miss you too. I will.

I love you, Edward.

Edward sighed as he read the text.

“I don’t,” he muttered as he finished typing.

I love you, too.

He put his phone back in his pocket and looked at his captive.

“But I love you more, Harper.”

#whump #lady whump #lady whumpee #original work #my writing #Devil's Playground #Harper #Dark #implied torture #implied noncon #creepy/intimate whumper #forced drugging #infedelity

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carelessannie · 4 years ago

Text

maybe it goes like this: steve builds his pack (part 1)

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Read on A03

Read the Tony courts Peter wip

Stucky focus (Steve x Bucky)

A sweet, slightly angsty backstory in three parts (ending in Stuckony).

Major warnings: D/S Au, A/B/O Au, Middle/High School Au, talk about family death, public non-sexual submission, steve beats the shit out of some bullies

---

Maybe it goes like this:

Steve can’t remember life with a pack, but knows for certain that his Ma grieves for them. Ever since he was a boy, he would catch his Ma staring at fading photos of strangers, wiping tears from her eyes, and denying it when Steve would ask why do they make you cry.

It’s not until later in his life that Steve learns the truth about pack bonds, about the decision an Alpha makes in life to form a familial or an intimate bond with their packmates. His Ma refuses to let him learn about packs from school, instead sitting him down across the table, like an adult, Steven, and he learns about orientations and secondary genders when he’s nine years old.

His Ma explains the way kids will turn into adults: first establishing their orientation as Dominant, Submissive, or Versatile, and later in high school, presenting as Alpha, Beta or Omega. She threads their fingers together, and asks Steve if he can notice what she is, and he concentrates real hard, trying to decide, as his Ma laughs.

It’s okay, Steven, you won’t be able to tell what other people are until your own body has developed.

Steve nods, pretending like he understands, and asks his mom about her presentation. She gives him a sad— sad? — smile, and says she’s a Submissive Beta.

It’s silent as Steve puts those two things together with the strong, beautiful woman he admires as his Ma, and is still confused. He asks about packs, and Alphas, and what intimate and familial packs are— gaining an amused shake of the head from his Ma.

Why don’t I just tell you about my pack, yes?

Steve nods eagerly, desperate to hear the story of a family he never had,

My pack was intimate, Steven, which means we all loved each other very much and decided to live together. I met my— our Alpha when I was in nursing school, before you were born. She was already mated to two Omegas, and they had been searching for a Beta to join their pack. We fell in love. I met her Omegas, and all four of us were very compatible— do you remember what that means, hun?

Mhm, like when you know you belong with someone even more than anyone else.

Right, good, so we all belonged to each other, understand? We lived in our Alpha’s house, and all of us worked jobs in the city. About a year after joining her pack, I met your Pa. He transferred to the hospital I worked at, and he was also a Beta, like me, but he was Dominant. I introduced him to my pack, and they loved him too. Within a year, we were mated and I had you. Makes sense, Steven?

Yes, Ma. But… What happened to them?

At this, his Ma goes silent, breathing deeply before finishing the story for her son.

Do you remember the difference between packmates and bondmates, Steven?

Um. One is forever, right?

Yes, good, if you are in love or committed to a pack, they are your packmates, whether you are intimate or not. But sometimes, two people, or a whole pack, want to make their relationship last forever, and they become bondmates. All people have the private part of their necks, remember? You have to know, sweetheart, the only way to start a bond is to bite each other there while mating. We’ll wait to talk about mating until you’re in middle school, okay hun?

Yes, Ma.

Good boy. Now. The other important thing about bonding is that it ties your soul to another person’s forever. Any person of any orientation can bond with whoever they’d like, as long as they’re compatible. But you have to know, and this is so important, that once you bond, your souls become one. My whole pack was bonded, but… Daisy… hun, our Alpha died of cancer. She got very sick, and died. And when one bondmate dies, everyone who shares the bond gets sick and dies too.

… Ma, but. Why didn’t you die?

I decided, once I got pregnant with you, that I didn’t want to risk bonding to my pack. Your father and I loved each other so much, and you were the symbol of our love, not a bite. And I’m thankful, sweetheart, because I get to be your Ma and watch you grow up.

Do you miss them, Ma?

Every day, Steven.

Steve doesn’t remember his Ma mentioning her pack again after that day, but he did start to notice that she would get sad a few times a year, around forgotten birthdays and anniversaries. She would spend all of her days working hard to provide for the two of them, and always made sure Steve knew he was loved and valued, even when she denied herself the opportunities to find a new pack.

Looking back, Steve can see that they didn’t have a lot of luxuries or comforts, and definitely didn’t live in the best part of town. He had a few friends in Bushwick, growing up in the nineties it was a poor place to live, but they were perfectly happy to play in the streets during the day, and lock their doors tight at night.

As he ties up his laces, he thinks about his small family and is immeasurably happy. There’s no one he loves more in the world than his Ma. He hates the thought of getting on the bus and driving far away to switch middle schools, but his Ma reassures him that he will love meeting new kids and making new friends.

So he grabs his backpack, tightening the knots holding the straps in place, and hops down the stairs, only sparing one look to his Ma on the front step.

It’s a long bus ride to the school, more than thirty minutes. Over the summer, his Ma found out that the school system wanted him to transfer to a better school because of budget... something and overcrowding—? He’s actually not quite sure why he can’t go back to his old school, but his Ma made it seem like William Alexander Middle School thinks he’s special and has asked for him specifically. So yeah, Steve is really excited.

He’s going into Seventh grade, and gets his own locker, and gets to go to art class.

Steve spends the whole bus ride reviewing the schedule he already has memorized, and comparing it with the school map that his Ma printed for him, tracing his finger around from class to class. Bus to Nurse to Homeroom to Algebra to English to Nurse to Lunch to Gym to Art to Nurse to Bus.

The day passes this way, Steve confidently following his map around the school and taking notes in his small notebook. It’s not until Gym that he gets nervous, remembering his last asthma attack, and hopes the nurse told his gym teacher about his restrictions as he files into the gym and takes a seat on the floor.

“Steve Rogers?”

“Here.”

“No, Steve, I need to talk to you,” Steve looks up and sees his gym teacher, a really large man with a beard, waving him to the front of the class. The other kids turn to whisper to each other as Steve walks forward.

“I— did—”

“Steve, I have a note here from the nurse, saying you cannot participate in most exercises because of your health issues. Because of this, I’m going to suggest you join the sixth grade class, which will go at a better pace for you, and let Mr. Howlett help you further, okay?”

He feels his entire face flush dark red as the other students behind him whisper and laugh. He’s a seventh grader, not a baby sixth grader. He holds eye contact with the gym teacher, folding his arms across his chest, but still grinds out a, “Yes, Sir,” like his Ma would want him to.

“Good, it’s settled. Here, Mr. Howlett has sent James to show you where to go.”

Steve turns to find a small, smiling boy waiting for him at... parade rest? What—

“Alright Stevie, let’s go,” and the boy turns on his heel, marching across the gym as Steve scrambles to keep up.

James slows down slightly, letting Steve catch him, “First things first, my name is James Buchanan Barnes, but most people call me Jamie. I hate it, but it’s better than nothin',” he looks over at Steve, eyeing him up and down, “Second, Mr. Howlett is friends with my dad. You stick with me, and this class will be a breeze, capiche?”

Steve swears his eyes are falling out of his head, and he nods his affirmation.

“Good,” is all Jamie responds with before grabbing his hand, tugging him to join a younger, smaller group of kids in the gym. As they approach, Jamie lifts their hands in triumph, “I found him!”

Feeling betrayed, Steve rips his hand free in embarrassment, but Jamie just smiles wider and pulls him towards their gym teacher, Mr. Howlett.

How this man could be bigger and scarier than the last teacher, Steve doesn’t know, but refuses to hide behind Jamie as they approach, and instead stands up even taller. Mr. Howlett makes a grunting noise, flipping through a few papers on his clipboard, before looking up at the two boys.

“Rogers?”

Before he can respond, Jamie pipes up, “Yeah! Here’s his note from the nurse, and he’s my friend and— and can I help him out? Please?”

It’s pretty clear that Mr. Howlett couldn’t care less either way, but all Steve can see is the raw, eager look in Jamie’s face as he begs their teacher to help Steve.

Huh, he thinks, the only other time I've seen this look is when Ma begs the pharmacist to refill my inhaler prescription when her paycheck's late.

“Whatever, Jamie, just keep outta trouble, ya hear?”

“Yes, sir!” Jamie delivers, with a crisp solute to match, and pulls Steve towards the back of the class.

They settle down, and Jamie keeps holding onto his hand. Steve glances over and sees Jamie quickly look away, suddenly shy.

“Jamie?”

The smaller boy looks over, hopefully, “Yeah, Stevie?”

“Thank you, I didn’t think I’d get a friend on my first day, much less the best one in the school.”

Jamie ducks his head again before turning his brilliant smile in Steve’s direction, and Steve continues before he has a chance to respond, “and Jamie?”

“Yeah, Stevie?”

“I swear, cross my heart, that I’ll find you a better nickname.”

Jamie’s eyes widen, and then he’s laughing, loud and doubled over. He grips harder onto Steve, who can’t help laughing along, even as they get funny looks from the class and a gruff, c’mon, quiet down, from Mr. Howlett.

Shaking his head, Jamie tries to catch his breath as he responds, “ I— I think— I’d love that— Stevie.”

And all Steve can do is smile back.

---

It takes a week for Steve to settle on Bucky, and when Bucky says he loves it, Steve runs all the way home to tell his Ma.

---

Steve and Bucky have Gym class and Lunch together almost every day for a year, and spend the whole summer waiting for their schedules to be mailed, hoping for at least two classes together.

They get their wish.

---

Halfway through eighth grade, Steve gets sent home with a stamped letter from his guidance counselor. For the past few weeks, the guidance counselor has asked him and Bucky to have lunch in her office, and the boys always shrug and agree. Today, after finishing lunch, she hands both boys an official letter for their guardians to discuss with them.

“Whaddaya think’s in it, Stevie?” Bucky asks, squinting at the letter as he holds it up to the light. The boys are heading straight from lunch to the nurse’s office to get Steve’s medicine, like they do every day, and Bucky grips tight to his hand, intertwining their fingers, like he does every day.

“I dunno, Buck. Maybe she’s gonna tell your Ma that you smell and needa bath,” the comment earns Steve a light shove, and an affectionate, “Punk,” in response.

“Jerk,” Steve replies, a reflex, and reaches out to pull Bucky closer, “I wouldn’t worry ‘bout it, Buck. She’s been real nice up ‘til now—”

“Yeah, I know, I just don’t wanna bother my dad if it’s somethin’ bad.”

They fall silent for a moment, both boys knowing how busy and strict Bucky’s dad can be. Steve sees Bucky’s head drop, lost, as he looks at the letter in his small hands. He slows them to a stop, turns Bucky around to face him in the school hallway, and hums in approval as Bucky meets his eyes and slowly tilts his head back. He grabs onto both shoulders, squeezing lightly, and pulls Bucky up close. Fingers tighten in the back of Steve’s shirt as Bucky clings to him, and he nuzzles into his best friend's hair, comforting, while rubbing across his shoulders.

“So sweet, Bucky. There’s no way your dad could be mad at you, alright? Believe me?”

He gazes down into soft, glazed gray eyes, and freezes. Bucky is slightly trembling against him, looking at him like he’s a revelation. Steve feels a calm settle into his bones as he reacts purely on instinct, reaching up to grip Bucky around the neck.

A few things happen in quick succession.

First, Bucky’s eyes roll up into his head, breath leaving his body in a woosh along with a high pitched whimper.

Second, Steve widens his stance, straightening his back, and Bucky sinks, fast, to his knees, gripping onto Steve’s thighs for balance.

And then, out of the haze—

“STEVE ROGERS, YOU RELEASE THAT BOY IMMEDIATELY,” and the trance is broken.

Steve is horrified to see Bucky curled up on the floor, and he stumbles back. Large arms wrap around him, herding him away from—

“STEVIE, no, please—” the voice of his best friend, his Bucky, follows him down the hallway along with small broken cries, and Steve fights hard against the strong arms that hold him,

“C’mon, kid, it’s okay. Just gonna call your Ma and getcha settled,” but Steve doesn’t care.

His boy is back there, somewhere, calling for him, needing him, and he can’t get back, he can’t protect, he can’t save, he can’t— breathe.

---

It’s okay, hun. Shh, sweet boy, it’s okay.

— Sarah, he had Jamie on his knees, submitting—

— no, I don’t think Jamie has stopped crying yet—

— only a few more months, it’ll be fine—

---

Steve wakes in his bed at home, confused.

“B— bucky?”

“Hey, sweetheart,” his Ma pushes past the door, “you up alright?”

He blinks his eyes a few times, disoriented, “Where… what—”

“Shh, hun,” she holds out a glass of water, which Steve takes gratefully,

“Ma, where’s Bucky?”

His Ma looks nervous, and straightens the sheets on the bed, “Steven, Bucky is just fine. How much do you remember about what happened?”

The memories are sticky, “I was just hugging Bucky. He was scared that his dad would be angry about the— oh! The letter from the counselor. Ma, I have an important letter for you. Officially stamped and everything,” his Ma just nods, so he continues, “I dunno, I was hugging Bucky in the hallway, and then something was… different. Like really heavy between us? And all I wanted was to keep him safe, but then… Then they took him, and—”

Steve looks into his Ma’s eyes, suddenly horrified, “I hurt him, didn’t I?”

He must’ve, that would be the only reason they knocked him out and separated him from his— from his—

“No, Steven, not like that. You absolutely did not hurt him,” then what... “You were the perfect Dominant, hun, and it’s not your fault, okay sweetheart?”

“Dominant? Ma…”

“Hush, Steven. I’m going to tell you something important, and you’re going to listen to me,” he nods once, so she continues, “the letter from your counselor was very important, Steven. Remember how boys and girls start to present around your age? Your guidance counselor has been monitoring signs of presentation between you and Bucky, signs that were confirmed today in the hallway. Steven, today you presented as a Dominant, and Bucky submitted to you. Do you know what this means?”

“T— that we’re… compatible?”

His Ma nods solemnly, “Yes, exactly. The doctors are not sure yet if Bucky is Submissive or Versatile, but you are a strong Dominant. My strong boy.”

“But Ma, why was it so bad?”

She sits on the edge of the bed, scooting so that she can pull Steve closer,

“Because, hun, both of you dropped.”

“Dropped...”

Ma hums, finding the words to explain,

“A lot of times, when a Dominant and Submissive are together, they go into a headspace. It’s calm, it feels right and certain and instinctual. Usually a Dominant will take more control, and the Submissive will allow it, naturally. If this doesn’t happen in a safe, private space, or if it’s interrupted, both parties are at risk of dropping. That means you could feel sick, lost, and upset— and even panic or become depressed,”

Exactly like what happened to me, Steve thinks,

“— and with you and Bucky, you both passed out from the stress. That’s why I need to know if you’re okay, Steven,”

It makes sense. Now that Steve knows what to look for, he can easily recognize not only moments where Bucky has submitted easily to him, but also moments where Bucky challenged him and he ended up claiming Bucky’s submission in an argument. His best friend, the boy who fights for him and is always at his side— it’s overwhelming. All Steve wants to know is—

“Ma, please, what happened to my Bucky?”

“Steven, don’t—“

“I need to know—“

“He’s still in a drop, hun.”

Steve swings out of the bed, “How? It’s been hours,” he hears his Ma stutter out something, but feels a resolve settle, “I’ve gotta be with him, Ma.”

“No.”

“But—“

“I said no. His pack is sending me updates, but was very clear that they want you to stay away from Bucky for now. He needs time to recover and understand what’s happened, as do you. And, as your principal recommended, both of you are switching lunch periods and transferring classes, to help reduce the stress of being around each other, is that clear?”

Not even sure he’s heard right past stay away from Bucky, Steve drops back into bed in shock. No more Bucky? He can’t even comprehend what his day would look like without his best friend next to him, and just like that, he’s destroyed one of most important relationships in his life.

Hot, wet tears fall through the night as he wraps around his sheets, wishing he was holding onto a smaller, dark haired boy with crystal blue eyes.

—

There are only two months left until summer, and they feel like two years without Bucky.

Steve cries himself to sleep for the first week.

In the second week, he tries talking to the adults in charge, all of whom give him pity and suggest he’ll get over it and move on.

By the third week, Steve is angry. He snarls at classmates, teachers, anyone who looks at him the wrong way. He gets sent home with a note about his behavior, and his Ma just gives him more useless pity.

During the fourth week, he’s walking the hall to his last period of the day, when he hears a plea for help and the slamming of a door echo from the boy’s bathroom. He runs inside, ready to take down a bully, and sees two eighth graders pinning someone to the bathroom stall. He steps in just as they punch the boy across the jaw,

“Hey assholes, why don’tcha pick on someone your own size?”

The boys whirl around and sneer, dropping the smaller kid in a heap on the ground.

“Look what we have here, a pint sized savior,” the larger of the two smiles wickedly, as he sizes up Steve, and the other one delivers a kick to their initial target for good measure, “Wonder where you got the balls, tiny?”

Steve throws his fists up, and the boys smile even wider, amused. The larger bully lunges for him, suddenly, and Steve absorbs his tackle, trying to roll them around on the floor to get on top. He delivers a well aimed elbow to the guy’s throat, which has him sputtering, and drives his knee down between the kid’s legs, earning him a satisfying howl.

“Yo, kid, it’s okay, c'mon it was just a joke—“

The other boy’s words barely register as Steve lands one, two, three hard right hooks to the bully’s face, before pushing off his chest and standing to his feet. The second kid scoots past Steve, hauling his friend up and escaping out the entrance.

“St— Stevie?”

All of the rage expels from Steve’s body as he turns to find Bucky smiling up at him from the floor where the bullies had dropped him just moments earlier.

He approaches slowly, and notices just how bruised Bucky is, just how tired he looks. Steve catalogs the blood on his face, dark circles under his eyes, possibly dislocated shoulder, and gaunt expression with care, touching as little as possible.

“We should— we should go to the nurse, Buck. It doesn’t look good.”

Bucky nods and attempts to get to his feet, but lets out a weak groan and sinks back down to the floor.

“C’mon, jerk,” Steve teases, trying his best to hide concern and devastation, pulling Bucky back to his feet on his good side, “do I hafta carry ya the whole way?”

There’s a weak laugh that could also be a sob from Bucky, and Steve tries to take more of his weight as they limp towards the nurse’s office.

He feels hopeful after hearing a barely whispered, “Punk,” in return.

---

The nurse lets the two boys cling to each other on the small cot, and proceeds to call both of their packs, asking for both kids to go home early for the day.

Steve glares at the nurse the whole time, knowing that he only has a few precious moments with his best friend before they’re separated again.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah, Stevie?” the younger boy looks up adoringly, “you okay?”

“I’m fine, Buck, how— are you okay?” He does his best to hold back tears that are welling up in his eyes, and enjoys the solid feeling of Bucky, safe and warm in his arms.

Small fingers run over his cheeks, wiping away a few stray tears that had slipped free, and Bucky’s smile just grows, “So much better now, that’s for sure.” He wiggles a bit, and Steve laughs lightly, gripping his friend’s waist tighter.

He leans down, brushing his nose against the shell of Bucky’s ear, and whispers, “Nothing has been the same without you, Bucky.”

A shiver goes through Bucky’s body, Steve feels it by proximity, and Bucky remains silent, until Steve hears one hitched breath, then another. He pulls away slightly, looking into Bucky’s face as the smaller boy dissolves into tears. Bucky pulls himself closer, burying his face in Steve’s neck as great, giant sobs tear him apart. All Steve can do is shush him gently, kiss him on the head, and rock them back and forth, waiting for his Bucky to calm down as the minutes pass in silence.

“I can’t say I’m surprised,”

Steve looks up, turning his body to guard Bucky’s vulnerable one, and sees Bucky’s Beta father and Omega mother standing in the doorway, expressions both shocked and resolved.

“Steve, can you tell us what happened?”

It takes a few minutes for Steve to explain how he saved Bucky, and when he finishes, he watches the Beta and Omega exchange a knowing look, before they take a seat near the nurse’s cot. Neither move to take Bucky away, which is perfectly fine with Steve, who just holds his friend closer. A quick glance gown confirms Bucky has stopped crying and fallen asleep, sniffling lightly.

“We need to talk to you, Steve,” he hears Bucky’s dad call for him, and reluctantly looks up at both of them, noticing the guidance counselor also waiting in the doorway. He nods to allow them to continue,

“I’m afraid we haven’t handled this situation well, son,” Bucky’s dad continues, “and it seems to have hurt both of you boys. I’m sorry, and want you to know we only wanted the best for Jamie.”

“I get it, sir,” Steve shifts slightly, uncomfortable with the sudden attention. “Does this mean I can see Bucky again?”

The Beta leans forward on his seat, making sure to focus on the younger boys, “Yes, Steve, we want you and Jamie to keep being friends, at least until you go to high school next year.”

He can’t even help the relieved sigh and small smile that take over his face, letting his eyes fall shut as he relaxes back onto the bed. Good. He doesn’t even spare a thought for their friendship after middle school, completely convinced that in this moment, him and Bucky will be together, forever.

---

Steve and Bucky fall back into their old routine, classes and lunchtime back to normal, and the news of Steve’s fight spreads like wildfire throughout the school. Both boys find themselves surrounded by new friends, many of whom knew Bucky but hadn’t hung out with Steve before, and he enjoys watching his best friend thrive in newfound popularity.

As summer approaches, Bucky starts talking more about going out for football in eighth grade. Steve always knew he loved sports, and had often encouraged Buck to keep playing baseball when the younger boy would get frustrated, so he naturally pushes his friends to try out. What he isn’t prepared for is how little he sees of Bucky over the summer. He barely notices at first, still seeing Bucky a few days a week, but then he starts to get rain checks on his invitations.

“Sorry, Stevie, rain check— I’m doing drills with the guys all day,”

“Aw man, rain check? I’m at conditioning every day this week and literally can’t get free,”

“Maybe rain check for this weekend? The guys are running plays all day, and I just gotta be there,”

“— you understand, right Stevie?”

And Steve does understand. He decides to give Bucky a little more space, only asking to hang out once a week, if that, and focuses on preparing for high school. He spends more time with his Ma, and she helps him pick out a brand new backpack from Walmart. When he protests, saying his old backpack is just fine, she shakes her head and insists on buying a product that will last. He fills it with notebooks and new pencils and pens and even a pack of colored pencils with a shiny dual sharpener.

It’s a few weeks before school starts that his Ma receives a letter from the school system. He’s decorating the cover of his notebook, laying across their living room floor, when his Ma comes and sits next to him on the floor.

“Steven, I have something to tell you.”

“Okay, Ma, one sec,” he takes a few moments to gather his pencil shavings, packing up his colored pencils, putting them in the correct order, and closing his notebook, stacking everything neatly on top.

“What’s wrong, Ma?”

“Remember when you went into middle school, and the government had to move you to William Alexander because the school closest to us was overcrowded?” Steve nods, he does remember, “Well, they don’t have the same issue with the high school here. So you’re going to be going Bushwick High, which is just a couple blocks away from us.”

“Oh, I thought I was gonna be going to school in Park Slope again, near Bucky?”

“I know, Steven,” his Ma gives a small pat to his head, before standing up and heading for the kitchen, “why don’t we have a snack and talk about it more? They sent a list of classes, and you get to choose electives and everything.”

Steve tries calling Bucky that night, eager to tell him about his news, but just gets the answering machine. He tries two more times that week, and comes up blank.

Within a few weeks, Steve is walking into Brooklyn High, confident and proud, and barely spares a thought about missing his best friend at his side.

#stucky #steve pov #steve x bucky #d/s fic #childhood friends #soft stucky #fluff #minor angst #steve beats the shit out of some bullies #mcu #fanfic #MiGLT #omegaverse

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