#but if the new coworker just like talks about things like this casually to her hr friend ofc that hr aid is blabbing to their boss

[fakeoutbf]

.

[luveline]

how about spencer x badass reader and they are wearing couple or similar clothes intentionally or unintentionally?? I think that would be cutee

tysm for requesting ♡ fem!reader

"Are you kidding me?" Derek asks, sounding like a kid in a candy store, a crisp twenty in his back pocket. 

Emily follows his line of sight and feels her cheeks apple unbidden, a delighted smile on her painted lips. "Oh, my god." 

"Yeah, Garcia?" Derek asks, phone to his ear, Penelope first on his speed dial. "You need to come and see this. Like, right now. Don't worry, baby, just come and see it for yourself." 

"I don't even know what to say." Emily stares at you. 

You usually dress in line with the other women in this profession: pants that aren't too tight so you can run in if needed, a simple blouse, and a blazer if you're feeling formal. 

Today, you've opted for something softer. It was a slow change, one day you were wearing a cashmere sweater, thin and fitted to your form. Another day, you chose to layer your shirt with a cardigan of a similar colour. 

Right now? You're all Spencer. Your slacks remain unchanged but your blouse has been swapped for a shirt with a stiff starched collar and layered under what can only be described as a grandpa sweater. It's not quite ugly, but it's almost identical to Spencer's. 

What's more, you've swapped your boots for converse. 

Spencer holds the door for you. He's chosen to wear a tie at least, clinging to that last strand of professional business attire. He has two coffees, one in each hand, while you carry a box. He's all elbows as he talks to you, and you, ever his fan, follow every word with a fond smile. 

"Hey, are you guys sharing a wardrobe now?" Derek asks, absolutely unwilling to hold back.

Emily piles on, "It's cute! You're totally an old married couple, you look like my grandparents." 

"What happened to your boots, lovergirl?" Derek asks, nodding at your cons, arms crossed over the back of his chair casually. "Don't get me wrong, I'm loving the sneakers." 

"You guys totally match," Emily coos. "You could be on a Christmas card." 

You smile —you smile, Emily might just call the news— and walk past them to your desk. Hotch has moved you away from Spencer knowing you'll encourage his endless chattering, which places you on a different island of desks next to Anderson and Agent Camille. 

Spencer put his coffee down on his desk, taking off his messenger bag. "Nice going, guys. She brought you donuts. You know, to apologise for calling you both antagonistic losers yesterday," he says, smiling at the mutual horror that crops up on their faces. "The fancy kind, too. She knew your favourite flavours without asking." 

From her desk, Emily can see you've opened the box and offered them to your desk mates, your expression unperturbed. "Just don't touch the chocolate sprinkle ones, they're for Spencer," you say.

No matter what they say, how sorry they sound, you give out the donuts to anyone who'll take one until they're all gone. When Garcia arrives, she finds you sitting in your desk chair with your head leaning against Spencer's stomach, taking alternate bites of the same sprinkle-covered donut like it isn't the most domestic, coupley thing you could be doing. 

Unlike Emily and Derek, Penelope genuinely thinks you look cute. "You guys are like Brangelina," she breathes, eyes wide, her smile infectious. 

Spencer fails to hide a grin, his hand on your shoulder. You're better at controlling your emotion, sliding a small parcelled package across the desk toward her.

"Thank you, Pen," you say. "I like the shoes. They're comfy. And the sweater was a gift." Spencer nods enthusiastically. 

That explains why you'd taken such an offence. Anything to do with Spencer raises your hackles. If you felt someone was making fun of his present to you, you'd defend him with your last dying breath, or, in this instance, punish your coworkers in his honour. 

"I'm sorry," Derek apologises again, "I was kidding! What do you want me to do, you want me to wear a sweater vest too? I can do that." 

You reach back to touch Spencer's side, levelling Derek with an impartial look. Not mad, not sad. Totally indifferent. "That could be a good start." 

Spencer hums. "I think so. You wanna borrow one of mine?"

The barest hint of a smile plays on your lips. "That's generous, Spence. You're a philanthropist."

"I am." He strokes the slope of your sweater-clad shoulder proudly. "You know me, I love sharing my wardrobe." 

[nnight-dances]

BEAUTIFUL MONSTER

PAIRING: yoon jeonghan x afab!reader

GENRE: angst, smut, fluff in that order of significance

TROPES: workplace romance, boss!jeonghan x associate!you, casual fwb situation but they're not friends they're coworkers, intense banter, nakamoto yuta makes a cameo, toxic relationship at some point but it gets better trust me.

"beautiful monster" because in private, jeonghan is nothing short of an angel to you – charming and devious, teasing but all in good faith, in faith that he was interested in you. but in public, he's monstrous with his cold shoulder, his indifference to you like you weren't in his bed every night, humming him to sleep.

PS: what are you doing with your life if you haven't listened to beautiful monster yet???? go listen to the gift from god called this man from jeonghan x wonwoo okay bye ily

"what makes you think you can prance into my office all prettied up and not even say a hi to me?" 

you look up from the stack of paper you're holding, and innocently tilt your head. "sorry, boss," you accentuate the last syllable with a smile, "just trying to be as resourceful as i can be." 

"oh, come on," jeonghan swivels dangerously in his hefty desk chair, all just to show you the little ridiculous hint of a smirk on his lips. "you're not really mad about that?"

"about what, sir? i'm just doing justice to my position in my short time here, after all."

"you know, quoting things i said back at me isn't as effective of an attack as you think it is, y/n," he tells you, but you can tell he's a little worked up because he shifts a little in his seat. "cut the fucking attitude, princess, what's wrong?" 

you narrow your eyes at him, more so at his audacity to pull out the private nickname in your shared place of work in broad daylight. and on a wednesday no less. "nothing's wrong, mr. yoon. i'm just reflecting on your incredibly insightful speech at the meeting earlier. seems like i don't know you all that well."

"well, you do know me all that well, which is why deep down, you know that whatever i said it wasn't addressed to you." jeonghan stands up and you have to swallow the smug look that threatens to spill out. 

yoon jeonghan, the star employee at his company, didn't get out of his chair, not even to greet the most valuable client. yet here he was, walking to you, hand on your elbow, dangerously unprofessional. 

"must be really deep down because i don't think the man i know would be that cruel to our newest hire," you bite back, shaking his hold over you, "and perhaps it would've helped me interpret you better if you didn't address your grand speech to every low-level associate in the room."

"low-level–? y/n, you know that–"

you don't let him finish, sure he'd find a way to spin his words and get out of being held accountable for the shit he spewed two hours ago. well, you weren't gonna let him get his way, not this time. you bow politely, "good day, mr. yoon. let me know if i can assist you with any work-related matters." 

god, you could be vexing when you wanted to, jeonghan thought to himself watching you stride off in your unbelievably well-fitting pants. he does wonder how you manage to never show up to work covered in creases, what with all the running around you do, from his place to yours every morning. okay maybe every other morning, but it was impressive, the way your white shirts were always crisper than the morning coffee you handed him on your way to your desk, and the way he'd never managed to see your lipstick a smudge out of place in all the time he'd worked with you.

"where'd jenna go again?" you question out loud when you return to find the new hire out of her desk yet again. she'd been the reason jeonghan had burst into his impormptu but condescending talk and though he had some fair reason to speak the way he did, you didn't appreciate the hierarchical intimidation it encouraged. 

"um, i think she just took her fifth bathroom break of the day," muttered seulgi with a grimace. "every time she does that the number of files on my desk goes up."

"send 'em over, seulgi."

"what? no, you have more than enough on your plate–"

"my research and writing skills are what got me hired, so i might as well revisit my roots once in a while. plus, it's gonna take a while to replace jenna, if we're trying to find someone this late."

"all right then, i guess i'll bring these over to you then," seulgi says in an apologegtic tone as she plops a fresh set of files on your desk, which has managed to stay clear of any such physical copies of documents since last year when you convinced joshua to make the firm go paper-free.

well, mostly. except for monkey jobs like this one which usually went to inexperienced hires. but given the unfortunate situation you find yourself in, you have no choice but to ignore your strcitly digital policy to pull out your wooden pencil for the first time in a while.

it takes you long enough to get through half of the stack that jeonghan's done for the day and you haven't moved an inch. he pauses in front of your desk, taken aback at the sight of you reading through a physical file. and then he notices the empty desk down the line, one that should've held the redhead called jenna. 

"and since when did you start doing unpaid labor?"

you look up with a start and sigh when it's jeonghan. "good night, mr. yoon." 

"wow, that's cold. can't a superior worry about his precious protege's wellbeing? y/n, you're overqualified for this work so why don't you put it down and go home?"

your mouth twitches with a bitter comment you barely hold in. "i'm the best person for this job till we find someone else to do it. i'm also the only one with the balls to sit down and finish it on top of my own workload. so i'm sorry but i won't be putting this down just yet. did you want me to call driver choi for you?"

jeonghan blinks silently at you, realizing you weren't gonna listen to a word he said, not even if he was the only voice of reason in your vicinity right now. he shrugs, "i can see myself out. just be here on time tomorrow, we have an important case to discuss."

"as you wish," you nod cordially and return to your work. 

– 

jeonghan's up till four that night, which is when he hears you shuffle into his condo. he silently thanks his past self who decided to drop a spare key to his place when your visits had become a regular thing. 

you're pulling your hair out of the tight ponytail you'd kept it in all day and throw the tie on the nightstand, almost screaming out of your skin when you see jeonghan looking at you, propped up on his shoulder. 

"what the fuck– why are you still awake?"

"why are you mad at me?"

you ignore his question and start untuck your shirt from your pants, unbuttoning them. 

"oh my god, is this the day you finally have mad sex with me–?"

you give jeonghan an unimpressed smile as you let the pants drop and throw yourself into the empty space beside him, closing your eyes with a weary sigh. "wake me up at 6."

jeonghan being the devious idiot he is, only worsens with every second you don't address his words directly. he rolls closer to you, hand finding his place under your shirt, on your hot stomach. "babydoll, i'm sorry you had to work so late," he whispers as he presses a kiss to your skin. "but if you don't talk to me, i can't make things right."

"you can't make things right, period, jeonghan," you tell him, eyes still closed. the man wouldn't get any more of your energy than you could help. "i'll be back to normal if you just let me sleep."

"you're being mean, baby, just let me make it up to you, okay?"

"jeonghan, unless you can change who you are as a very human being, i don't think there's anything you can do," you strain, shoving him away, "i'm not about to throw a tantrum so don't worry. let me sleep if you want to have your best associate working for you tomorrow."

that seems to get the message across because he doesn't say another word. or maybe he does but you're too busy slipping into the sleep you desperately need after a crazy work day. jeonghan wakes you up with a solemn look on his face and you sit up in a panic, thinking something's gone wrong at work.

but then he says, "sorry, i overslept. it's 7. you'll have to wear the spare pair of clothes you keep here to work."

"i hate you," you shriek as you jump out of bed, rushing to freshen up in his bathroom as he nods and starts getting ready himself. he does seem like he's keeping to himself because usually, jeonghan would've made a few too many comments about how cozy and domestic it is for the two of you to be using the same mirror to get ready as if his place didn't have any other mirrors to use. he even lets you fix his tie without a snarky comment, just a little kiss on your cheek that you barely tolerate without a shake of your head. 

he watches you put on the makeup you keep in your purse for emergencies like this, but can't help muse over how much he must hate to the idea of losing you at work to be acting this obedient. you smile a little to yourself, pleased at least at his respect for you, if not his love. 

truth be told, you often regretted being in this strange more than coworkers but less than lovers situation you had with yoon jeonghan, your direct superior at work. but you were too deep in it to back out, too down bad for the man's charms to turn your back to him. 

it had started almost as soon as jeonghan had laid eyes on you, his private conversations with you always consisted of one too many suggestive comments and he somehow always managed to flirt with you without you truly registering it. by the time you recognized the unprofessional nature of your relationship with him, you were five kisses too late. late nights at the office turned into late nights at his place, because it was conveniently much closer to the office than yours. 

somewhere along the way, though, you had to face the harsh reality that no matter how sweet jeonghan could be when he was flirting with you, he was always going to be something of a beautiful monster. because in private, jeonghan is nothing short of an angel to you – charming and devious, teasing but all in good faith, in faith that he was helplessly into you. but in public, he's monstrous with his cold shoulder, his indifference to you like you weren't in his bed every night, humming him to sleep.  

the harsh reality you face that very morning when he calls you into his office. 

"morning how can i–," you start and then make eye-contact with the man seated on the sofa across from jeonghan. "oh, morning, mr. nakamoto! i didn't realize you were in town!"

nakamoto yuta laughs loudly at your hurried greeting, crossing his legs as he shamelessly checks you out. "oh, come now, call me yuta like the good old days, y/n! and where were you this morning when i was all over the place trying to find the famous yoon jeonghan's office."

"ah, i'm sorry i was a little late this morning–" you spare a glance at jeonghan smiling in his chair, "my cheap excuse of an alarm didn't go off on time. i really should get a new one."

"if you'd come to work for me like i asked, you wouldn't have to work at the ass crack of dawn y'know?" yuta raises a brow at you with a small grin and you tuck some hair behind your ear bashfully, not forgetting to observe how jeonghan is stiff in his seat. as stiff as a slick bastard like him could get anyway because you could've missed the glare he shot you when he stands up and crosses the room to yuta. 

he pauses next to you, cold hand coming to rest on your arm, a possessive gesture explicit enough for yuta to muse over. "i didn't realize you came in here to declare war over my best associate, yuta, or i would've prepared harder."

the japanese businessman laughs wholeheartedly, "sorry, han, you know i can't help myself these days. it's getting harder to find familar faces in the industry these days, what with all the incompetence that's cropping up." he sighs then with a glance in your direction, "still mad you came to work for this asshole over me."

you chuckle, letting down your guard a little at the man's sincere comment. "what would've been the point of working at your company when you'd always be across the globe, vacationing in some fancy hotel every other week?" you question with a smile, "anyway, don't lose hope, maybe i'll change career paths mid-life, so don't delete my resume from your system just yet."

"all right, i'll take that as a promise," yuta winks at you as you take your leave from the office. 

an hour or so later, you're summoned to jeonghan's office again, with a brief, "y/n, please." you suppress the urge to roll your eyes, knowing there wasn't any real need for you to be in the room with them except for yoon jeonghan's egoistic need to fuck with your head. 

"how can i help you?" you ask with your sweetest business smile and jeonghan stands up from the sofa next to yuta. he gestures to the other man with a glint in his eye, "y/n, mr. nakamoto says he has the rest of the day to himself before he heads out. i thought it'd be a waste to just let him roam on his own, why don't you accompany him?"

you blink blankly at jeonghan, taken aback at his thoughtless request. treating you like just another associate who worked under him was one thing, but treating you like his personal assistant who'd entertain his friends' whims was entirely another. 

and you know he realizes this because of how closely he's watching you, lips set in a lilt because he loves seeing his stupid little scenarios play out. yuta stands up when he senses the tension, "ah, don't bother y/n, han. i'm sure she has a lot of work to do. i'll just–"

"no, no, i insist," jeonghan pushes, only glancing at the man he was so earnestly trying to please. "you don't mind, do you, y/n?"

you inhale, sensing the challenge behind his words. the way he said it, it was almost inappropriate for work, the smirk and the way his eyes were all over you. but honestly, you hated his guts for trying to get you down like this. so if a challenge was what he wanted, then that'd be exactly what he was going to get. 

"not at all!" you start, a cheerful beam on your face that catches both men off their guards and you continue, "please, i was hoping for some time to catch up with mr. nakamoto– sorry, with yuta, anyway, so honestly, thank you, mr. yoon. i'll just go grab my stuff and meet you in the lobby?"

"oh– okay, sure thing," yuta mutters, glancing between you and jeonghan uneasily. you don't spare your boss another look as you leave his office and furiously pack your things into your purse, slinging it over your arm. "i won't be back today, seulgi, so don't text me unless everyone starts dropping dead while i'm gone."

–

"so you don't show up at work all day and then you ignore all my calls? i am your boss, y/n, you can't just blow me off whenever you please," jeonghan's voice is muffled on the other side, and you're guessing he's in his car, on the way back to his place. 

you, on the other hand, had been home for nearly three hours now after your little date with yuta, the man who'd walked around the city with your for a few hours before taking you out to a late lunch slash early dinner at the nicest place you'd been to in a while. so yes, you were in a good mood and honestly, hearing how mad jeonghan is on the line only makes you smile more. 

"oh, sorry, i didn't realize you were bipolar like that," you say in a pleased voice, "because last i remember you basically begged me to babysit your client for you."

"client?" jeonghan scoffs,  "you make it sound like you weren't sleeping with that guy for almost five years before i came along."

"well, i'm sleeping with you now and you don't hear me calling you anything but my boss to anyone."

"you're a real piece of work sometimes, aren't you?" the man snaps and then after a solemn pause, "what did you do with him all day, anyway?"

you chuckle softly, "can't disclose private matters like that i'm afraid. besides, i'm having real trouble understanding why you sound pissed at me when all i was doing was following your instructions."

"huh, that's funny, you want to get rewarded for running around with another man while i was banging my head at the wall all day today? don't ever try to pull shit like this again or–"

"or what, jeonghan? you're gonna fire me?" you ask, "how about you stop treating me like i'm the dirt on your shoe as soon as you're done using me for sex? i'm not your personal assistant that you can just order around to wet your friends' cocks whenever you fucking want, okay? or i'll be the one considering yuta's offer seriously." 

before jeonghan can have a chance to respond, you hang up on him, breathing deeply to calm yourself down. you take in your apartment, somewhat of an abandoned mess with all the nights you'd spend at jeonghan's. you felt guilty for own behavior, ignoring your own needs for so long that you'd forgotten what being respected really felt like. maybe what you needed was a real relationship.

–

"that's always been your problem, y/n," rina groans, "you always forget that there's men other than the ones you work with."

"ouch! you make it sound like i've only ever fucked my coworkers–"

"worse, your bosses–"

"okay, so it happened like twice! you're forgetting all the wholesome moments i had in high school," you warn her across the table with a fork. 

"you mean how you rejected any decent guy with genuine feelings for you in favor of chasing older men who didn't know your name?"

"i'll have you know i chased those old men because they were the ones who could get me the job i have today, so i won't apologize for doing what i had to do to have the career i wanted."

rina sighs, "that's not the problem. you could've networked with the people working in the industry and had a healthy relationship with someone your age. but you always got so emotionally attached to anyone who offered you advice that you didn't have time for anything else."

you stare at your coffee dejectedly, swallowing the hard truths your oldest friend was hurling at you. cruel as she was, you knew she wasn't going to sugarcoat things for you, not when you dragged her all the way across town on a saturday to have lunch with you when she had a million other things lined up with her upcoming wedding.

"i don't know how you do it, rina," you mumble, "you've a stable job, a beautiful home, and a doting fiance. god, that's like three worlds apart from the dump of a reality i live in."

"okay, now that's just untrue, y/n," rina scolds you softly, shaking her head, "plus, you have the first two things on that list."

"i have a job, but my place is far from home. i don't even sleep in it most days, plus, i think the last factor on the list kinda trumps everything else by a lot."

"well, who is that on anyway? it's not like you're undesirable or fucked up, you know?"

you groan, "what should i do, rina?"

"find someone who doesn't work the same 100 hour work week as you might be a start? maybe then you can stop treating your boss like a god."

"rina, you don't understand," you complain, "i know i make it sound too good to believe, but he's the smoothest talker you'll ever see and god, don't even get me started on how good he is in bed–"

"y/n, it's not the man's dick that matters, it's his heart," rina interrupts and when she doesn't burst out laughing like you do, you stop with a questioning look. "i'm serious, dude, you're not gonna be in it for the sex like 10 years down the line when everything hurts, inside and out. trust me, the minute you meet even a remotely normal man with reasonable expectations from life, you'll know what i mean–"

"that's the problem–" you start to explain your own beliefs when a head in your periphery catches your eye. "fuck me," you groan immediately when you realize who's sitting about two tables away from you.

"come on, y/n, i just talked to you about this, you can't be thinking about–"

"no, no, listen, don't look right now, but…" you trail off in disbelief and then force yourself to finish, "but my fucking boss is sitting to our left."

"you mean the fucking boss… you're… fucking?"

"yeah, that one…"

a few beats pass as rina slowly takes a look at the man across from you, hair down from the low ponytail it usually found itself in. at the perfect timing, jeonghan laughs at something the lady across from him says, hair bouncing to reveal his flawless features. 

"wow, he looks like nothing like you've described him as–"

"what, i've been going on for hours about–"

"about his charm, not how drop-dead gorgeous he is! i've been imagining some greasy old douche, not this tall glass of water…"

"first of all, your lack of trust in my taste in men is truly offensive… and–"

rina interrupts you, for the nth time in every conversation that you've ever had with her. "–it's worth mentioning that your taste in men is walking toward us as we speak–" 

"what…" you look up all too suddenly to find the man a few steps away, sly smirk in place as he approached you. 

"hello there, ladies," he starts in a low amused smile and god, if you could strangle him or yourself into silence just there you would've but instead you match his smile. 

"oh– hi, mr. yoon, i didn't expect to run into you here," you laugh it off with a pointed look at him, hoping he'd have the common decency to fuck off when you were clearly with a friend on one of your only days off. 

but you should know better because jeonghan will never give up a chance to open his mouth, especially in front of a stranger he hasn't had the chance to charm yet. 

"and neither did i! but here i am, with my lovely coworker and her…" his eyes dance over to rina who flushes under his gaze by the slightest, "gorgeous friend?"

you roll your eyes at the question and don't think it worth mentioning, especially when you're too busy choking yourself over his description of you as a 'coworker'. yeah, right. 

"right, we were just–"

"talking about the guy who's interested in y/n!" rina chimes in, her grin saying she thinks she's helping you but you kick her under the table, warning her to cut it off. 

"what–"

"huh, what's that again?" jeonghan asks, smile momentarily faltering at rina's comment. 

"ah, you know, y/n's just been so popular with guys since i've known her but she's never had time to settle down. but this guy's just been dying to meet her and when she called me to lunch today, i thought she'd finally be ready to meet the man of her dreams."

"the man of my dreams?" you choke yet again over a strangled laugh, "rina, you're really funny. you know i have nothing of that sort–"

"oh, come on," rina brushes you off with a scrunch of her nose and turning to jeonghan who seemed immersed in the bullshit your best friend was spewing. "she's just too shy to talk about it but– she told me, too drunk off her ass to remember, she'd only want to marry a man who was desperately head over heels for her, gives up everything to be with her, just to see her smile–"

"rina, i think–"

"and oh, what was it that you said? he needs to be able to think what i think before i've thought it? i'm not even looking at him if he doesn't worship the ground i walk on?? wow, y/n, you were full of it back then, weren't you?"

you redden, out of words at this point, half-mad she was yapping and half-mad at yourself for actually having said all the shit she was yapping. yes, god knows you did say everything she was saying, and there was a blurry video on your phone proving it somewhere. rina'd known you wouldn't believe a word without proof, so she'd recorded it without you realizing.

jeonghan's looking at you when you look up from your lap and rina cuts in again, "but you can't be to blame, now, can you? your parents always treated you like a princess, and your brother basically acted like your bodyguard until you moved out… i'd be full of myself too if i grew up like that."

you inhale deeply as you glare at rina, slowly standing up, "um, i think we should go soon or we'll miss the movie. right, rina?" you force your words out so rina can recognize you're not kidding. 

"y/n, can i talk–"

"sorry," you cut jeonghan off, too, head reeling too hard to respond to anything that man's got to say to you, "i really have to rush but if it's something urgent, why don't you just leave a voicemail? i'll get to it on monday."

"ooooh, that was hot," rina whispers into your shoulder as the two of you pay the bill and head out. "god, did i love torturing the two of you in there. and honestly, serves him good–"

"what the fuck was that?"

"what the fuck was what? i was just showing that bastard what you actually deserve," rina snaps, eyes wide, "you might not remember what you're made of, y/n, but i do and i'm not gonna watch as you let that asshole use you. he can realize what your standards are or he can find someone else to fuck with. not my best friend."

"...rina," you stop in your tracks, rina's words finally starting to make sense in retrospect, "you're—"

"okay, please don't get emotional on me, i have a movie to catch and you know i can't focus if i'm tired."

– 

that very night, you come out of the shower to your phone blowing up, stifling a smile when you see jeonghan's name plastered over your notifications. after a thought to it, you pick up.

"what?" you take on your most indifferent tone.

"wow, that's cold," jeonghan's voice is clear this time. he's at home. "you can really be a stranger sometimes, baby."

"it's not hard, i just pretend i'm you at work," you tell him with a petty smile he can't see but most definitely hears because he immediately scoffs.

"listen, i didn't call to fight you, okay? i just want to talk. i–" he stops abruptly as if out of breath and then, softly, "i'm sorry."

that's a first. 

"i didn't quite catch that, mind repeating what exactly you're sorry for?"

you hear his sigh loud and clear, "y/n, let me make it up to you. i'm sorry i've been an asshole to you, especially at work. won't you come over?"

"no, i won't. i have some beauty sleep to catch up on."

"then, i'll come over. but please, let me in. and i don't mean into your place, i mean into your mind. i know you want a grandiose dream man but i can't read your mind just yet, so just let me… let me understand you better." after a beat of silence, he punctuates his words with a "please?"

"...you know where i live?"

"wasn't born yesterday, princess. give me 10 and i'll be there. make sure you're wearing clothes."

he hangs up on you and you barely have a moment to yourself to calm your intense hearbeat and equally chaotic thoughts after what jeonghan just said. i can't read your mind just yet. just yet? did he intend to??? intend to what, become to man of your dreams???? 

as much as you internally cringe at the thought, your cheeks are flushed when you let jeonghan that night, watching carefully as he took his shoes off, wearing a strangely casual grey hoodie and sweatpants. somehow you'd only ever seen him in his suit. or without it. 

he looks at you for a moment too long, and then his hand comes to carress your hair gently, "hmm, never seen you with your wet hair down."

"what do you want, jeonghan?" you cross your arms.

"you know sometimes i think i prefer you call me mr. yoon over jeonghan. you sound like you're going to kill me in my sleep when you say jeonghan."

"or i could just kick you out of my apartment. my landlord takes break-ins very seriously."

"alright, alright," jeonghan backs off, keeping his hands to himself, "can i at least have some water first? nervous to be all alone in your place with you."

you narrow your eyes at him and when he just shrugs, you gestures to the kitchen. "you can figure out how to pour yourself, can't you?"

"y/n, i–" he takes a gulp of the water, and then sighs, "i want to take you out. like a proper boyfriend."

"that's crazy because unfortunately, i don't have any time to be going out with anyone right now."

"if you're going to lie about your work committments, maybe don't do it to my face? our schedules are basically married so i know exactly when you're free."

"oh, i see what's happening," you throw yourself on your couch with a mirthless laugh, "you're blackmailing me into dating you, aren't you? don't worry i won't go around spilling the tea about your kinks in bed if you just leave me alone, mr. yoon."

"okay i lied, it's infinitely worse when you call me that. how about just calling your sweet angel, han, huh? no, okay? listen, y/n, i'm serious. i want to be more than your toxic boss who you have mindblowing sex with."

"you are–"

"i'm not saying this for any of the ulterior motives you're trying so hard to think of. believe it or not, i'm into you, y/n, and when you left me hanging for like three days straight, i couldn't stop thinking of you. and well, i did miss the sex, but what i missed more than anything was hanging out with you. spending time with you." 

"...what if i'm not into you like that?" you ask with a quirked brow, not quite satisfied with the case he was presenting. he stood still across from you at your kitchen counter, breathing shallow though you weren't certain why.

"that would be fair but i'm asking you to give us a chance because i know i've never had a connection with someone like i do with you. our stupid banter, your witty ways to save my life at work and outside before i can anticipate them, and of course, our amazing chemistry in bed– y/n, i never will find something like this again. and you can say i'm full of myself, but neither will you."

if you were slowly starting to doubt that it really was yoon jeonghan in front of you confessing his love to you, you don't anymore when he adds that last arrogant part in. "you're awfully confident for someone who was blowing my phone up an hour ago," you tell him, looking away, "but honestly, jeonghan, i'm getting old, okay? i don't think i have time to play your games anymore. i'm gonna find myself a decent man and settle—"

"you hearing yourself? you're gonna settle?" jeonghan's crosses over to you, sitting on your coffee table and before you can tell him off, he takes both of your hands in his with the tenderness of a man that you've never seen him capable of being. "i know i'm not the most promising prospect of a boyfriend, let alone a husband, but i'm willing to change. not even change, i'm just going to stop pretending to be a little bitch to you at work because honestly it was killing but i was doing it to protect myself from getting too attached to you. but it's too late. i'm down bad for you, y/n."

"and i may not be the decent man you're looking for, but i can assure i love you more than anyone on the market. because i know you like nobody else can, and i'm going to stick by you no matter what."

you take a breath and hold it just to test if you're dreaming but then jeonghan drops his head into your hand, letting your fingers into his soft hair. "just give me a chance, y/n. i'm… nothing without you." his voice is small now, his charming self who showed up to rooms full of busy people to give them a pitch of their life long gone. he was just a man right now, pleading you to let him in so you could both have a real shot at loving each other. 

you pull your hands out of jeonghan's clutch, watching his expression turn into one of panic but you silence him by bringing them to his face, gingerly guiding his eyes to yours. he blinks back, pure and solemn. "where was this guy when i was begging to be held for the past week?" you wonder, half to yourself, "and before you apologize, it's okay. i… haven't been a saint myself. it was unfair to not give you the short end of the stick when i'd given you the impression it was all good and fine until now."

"but you have to know how little i feel when you treat me without respect at work– not just because you're my boss, but because i care about what you think of me… as a person. i want to be with you, to love you. so if you can be real with me like this, i think we can make it work."

jeonghan kisses your hand softly, "i'm sorry. i– i will do better. and just to be sure, that was a yes?"

"yes."

"yes, you'll be my girlfriend, my one and only lover, the apple of my eye, the prettiest sight since the moon was revealed?"

"...yes. and flattery is not one the list of real qualties," you tell him despite the blush that colors you. 

"really? it's a good thing that i meant every single thing i just said then, isn't it?" he leans closer, breath hot against your already hot face. "can i kiss you then, love?"

the new nickname only makes you more dazed and you nod with a mewl, meeting jeonghan's lips halfway. he kisses you like he's never before — without a hint of urgency, like he could kiss you for the rest of his life and not regret a moment. he's slow and intentful, eyes fluttering and breath heavy, almost like his heart was wreaking as much of a havoc as yours was in your chest. 

you press a hand to his chest, reassured by the heat of beat that meets you, and he pulls away in surprise at your motion. jeonghan's flushed and speechless like he's never been, just watching you through his lashes, out of breath. 

you look down at his body, taking in his tall figure cramped in the little space between the two of you. his legs cage yours on either side, knees meeting your thighs, and his arms resting gently on your waist. it's like his body's swallowing you whole, and thought heats you up in a way that has you tearing up. 

when you hide your face in your hands out of the blue, jeonghan's large hands find yours, cooing them away. "what's wrong?"

"overwhelmed…" you tell him in a tiny voice, "i've– you never… you've never been so gentle with me. i feel like i'm going to break."

"that's ironic, isn't it," he asks softly but not mockingly. "you're so precious, i can't believe i haven't done this sooner. i guess i was always in such a hurry to feel your skin before time ran out… before it was too late… or something? either way, i'm here to stay now so let's take it slow."

"so you'll kiss me like that again?" you ask, looking at your intertwined hands. he squeezes back. 

"you liked that? let me see your lips again, i'm never not doing that again."

you giggle at his enthusiastic reaction, his lips already a breath away from yours, feeling your sounds in his whole being like he'd been starved. he kisses you again, not letting go till you pull away with a gasp. "god, i need air, han, you'll kill me at this rate."

jeonghan's too busy peppering your skin with more kisses, "good, you're back to calling me han. and as for needing air, we'll just have to do that a lot so you can build up a stamina."

—

"love it when you do that, god–" jeonghan's all over his own words, trying to get them out as soon fast as possible, "can you say it again? i'm gonna record it–" 

"han," you warn him in a stiff voice, "tell me you didn't just walk out of a meeting to come ask me to say– i'm not saying it, okay? so let go of my hand before seulgi comes back and you'll still have a reputation around here."

"no, you can't do this to me, babe," he's whining now and it'd be great for your ego if you couldn't see the room full of people waiting for him to get back so he could continue the meeting. "just tell me what you told rina about the dates i take you on and then i'll be out of your hair."

"first of all, you were never supposed to hear any of that," you push jeonghan away when he protests dangerously close to your face, "and second, if you want to have a girlfriend at the end of the day, you're gonna walk away from my desk and go back to your doing your job. okay, han? i can't do this now, let's talk at night."

"...fine. if you agree to sleep over at mine."

"done. now go."

"and you'll hold hands when we walk–"

"go."

he turns around obediently not before throwing a flying kiss in your direction and you truly have to wonder how he ever managed to act so uptight with you at work when he can be hopeless like this. 

"i'll have you know," he whines that night when you're coddling him in his bed, "that i'm that hopeless only because i'm head over heels for you. i love you, love, and i can't stop loving you, even if a bunch of suited assholes want to find ways to keep me apart from you."

"a bunch of suited assholes is your job description, angel," you laugh into his chest, "and god, you need to stop doing that at work. at least find a room if you want to be all up in my personal space, okay?"

"reserve a room just so we can make out? hmm, not a bad idea—"

"that is the exact opposite of what i was suggesting–"

"and yet here i am, with the great idea in my brain. noted, princess likes risky sex at work. thrill of getting caught? or is–"

"when did making out turn into risky sex?"

"you know i can never stop at just that once i've started," he says, kissing your forehead and you hit his face softly. "liar. big words from someone who refused to do anything but kiss me all night last night, and the night before that, and what about the time we went to dinner that time? oh, right, you didn't even kiss me."

"are you mad i'm being mindful of my pace?" jeonghan asks with a half smile, seriously concerned when you bring it up.

"no, i'm just shocked at the change up from when all you could think about was where and how we were gonna fuck."

"well, be assured that i still think about fucking you anywhere and everywhere at all times, but i'm more than that man now. i've got boyfriend worries now, 'kay? i want to savor every single thing we do, every date i take you on, and every small adorable thing you do. i'm not doing it the casual way. it's either all or nothing."

"you're scary when you're in love," you marvel with a sweet smile, "but full disclosure on my part, han, but i kind of need you to fuck my mind out because i'm literally dying here."

jeonghan goes still, pulling away to look at your face, amazed at the filth you could spawn with the purest smile on your lips. when he catches the glint of desperation in your eye though, he's switching control immediately, over to the jeonghan he'd managed to suppress so expertly to focus on treating you right. 

"damn it, you're gonna be the death of me, looking at me like that–" he's on top of you in a split second, his hair brushing the nape of your neck where he dives into your skin. "wasn't gonna ruin you again till i really had to, but fucking hell, woman, you know how to work a guy up."

"i can tell," you murmur, hands roaming all over his body, finding the hard bulge in his boxers all to familiar. "had to provoke you, y'know my fingers aren't enough."

jeonghan lets out an ungodly sound at your words, and you revel in the way he's coming undone, the way you've managed to push all the wrong buttons. to be fair, was it really wrong if it drove jeonghan to give you the best head he'd ever given you? 

when he rises from between your legs, you kiss him hard, tasting yourself on his tongue, and stealing his breath when you push him over so you could straddle him. "let me return the favor?" you lick your lips to really seal the deal.

"you–" he groans when you don't wait to pull his boner out of its restraints, smiling ever so demurely like he'd presented you with new clothes or a ticket to your favorite show. when you take a lick at his tip, he twitches, hands in your hair forcing you away from his dick. 

"--can't–" he's hardly comprehensible but he manages to get his request out, "can't take it for much longer. need to be inside you."

"thought you'd never ask, hannie," you gasp innocently and jeonghan swears he's already seeing stars from the nickname you only pull out on the verge of your orgasms. he's spewing all sorts of obscenities when you sheath him in your warm pussy, and you make sure you take in the sight before you. 

jeonghan's glittering with sweat, lips wonderfully swollen and eyes rolled back in his head with the height of pleasure he was feeling. he looked like an angel, even when he was so fucked out, chest deliciously hard against your touch and his voice contrastingly in its sweet chorus of your name. he was doing much of the work even though you were riding him, long fingers trailing from your boobs to clasp your waist so he could have perfect control of your body.

when he's close, he swallows a whine and you clench around him just to rip the sound out of his throat, the moan halfway between a scream and a song to your ears. that alone brings you close with jeonghan's thumb at your clit really bringing you to the edge. 

"come for me, hannie," you elicit another heavenly sound from him, "please, let me feel you inside me." 

"i'm coming, y/n, fuck!" he bites his own tongue and then gives up when you keep going, "fuck, fuck, fuck, i'm going to– fuckk–"

you both fall over with the wave of pleasure that hits your bodies, elevated ever more when each of you feels the others heat. it takes a minute of panting for you to feel your heartbeat in your chest and see jeonghan's limp body under yours. you roll over so your back can hit the cold sheets. 

you genuinely black out a little from the exhaustion because when you come to, jeonghan's between your legs with a warm towel cleaning you up. he looks up when you sit up with an unspeakable look in his eyes. he crawls over, voice hoarse as his lips meets yours. "i think you just changed my life, y/n, that was amazing."

"it was, i think i was on another planet for a hot minute there…" you say, oddly nervous with jeonghan's body touching yours as if you hadn't been all over each other a second ago. 

"you were… unbelievable. i've never been that gone before, y'know? you might've broken me… all that after i promised to be nothing but a gentleman to you." jeonghan sighs a little with a shake of his head.

"sorry, angel," you run a hand through his hair, feeling him relax under your touch, "i was pent up, what from fighting with you and then suddenly becoming all lovey dovey. for what it's worth, i think we just upped fucking game. and it's probably because we aren't lying to each other anymore."

"probably because you're all mine now," he says victoriosly, kissing your hand like he did the night he'd come to your place to beg you to take a shot at a life with him. you're so glad you did because you couldn't imagine another place where you'd feel this way, completely like yourself and nothing like yourself. 

"always have been," you assure him as you press a kiss to the back of his neck, throwing your hands around his shoulders. you liked to hug him to sleep, like you'd always yearned to every time you unwittingly fell asleep next to him. he shifts closer so your legs touch and you feel his lips graze your wrist lovingly, pressing kisses to the warm skin till you'd drifted into a deep sleep.

NOTE:

still not sane about that instagram update from jeonghan because those images of him have me feeling like this: 🤭🧍‍♀️😧🌀🥵😇🖐️🫦🙁 if you know what i mean. i will be crying about it for the next few days till i can think straight so that's that!

honest to god, somebody restrain me from writing and thinking about this man because i’m genuinely unwell about him. genuinely this is a cry for help. i told myself i wasn't going to write another jeonghan fic (see: the 50 wips i have waiting that involve not jeonghan) but here i am. speedwrote this in less than 2 days and took 2 hours to select the header icons and they still suck. self-indulgent content as always but anyway, i think i will die thinking about yoon jeonghan so here's my small contribution to anyone else who feels anything similar to me. i hope you enjoy and please i love hearing your thoughts so any reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

[mischievousmoony]

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎

𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷 ⟡ 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗

⟢ james potter x fem!reader

⟢ summary: modern restaurant au; it's your first day on the job and james is your trainer . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 2.4k

⟢ warnings/tags: is profanity a tw pls lmk actually, coworker!james, coworker!marauders, accidentally wrote an anxious!reader, trying out that headcannon where remus is a bit of a hothead, only lightly grammar checking this series bc i just wanna have fun w it

⟢ the new hire masterlist ��� main masterlist

note: here, bc i gotta chill and write something light for once. i think this will be an ongoing fic. also im not beating the mentioning tea in ever fic allegations anytime soon how does this always happen.

“Welcome in! How many in your party?”

“Oh! No, I’m Y/N. It’s my first day.” Your fingers pitter patter nervously on the host stand.

“You’re the new waitress!” the bubbly hostess exclaims, “I’m Mary! It’s so nice to meet you. Stay right there, I’ll go get the manager.”

She disappears into the busy restaurant, leaving you rocking back and forth on your heels nervously.

Mary, you repeat the name in your mind, recalling what she looked like so that you wouldn’t forget who the name belongs to. You had a thing with learning names—you just hated forgetting them. It felt so humiliating to have to ask someone to remind you of their name. One time, you worked with someone for months and their name lived on the tip of your tongue the entire time. Luckily, they quit before it ever came up.

“There she is! Ready for day one?” The manager, Nate, greeted as he followed Mary back to the host stand.

Not in the slightest. You always hated first days, with all the pressure to make a good impression. Not to mention it’s only the start to the slow climb over the learning curve. You hold out hope that everyone will be as nice as Mary seemed, it would make today a lot easier.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you say, straightening out your black shirt. The dress code for this job was essentially the color black from head to toe. You used the lack of a formal uniform to your advantage, expressing your personal style as much as you could within the confines of business casual.

Nate clapped his hand together, “Right, first up is a tour and introductions. I have all your paperwork already, right? So, after that we’ll get you in an apron and find someone for you to shadow.”

“Sounds good,” you try sounding cheery and excited, only for you to start worrying about whether or not you sound too eager.

“So, front of house is up first. You’ve already met Mary, our lovely hostess—“

Marry wiggles her fingers at you as a playful wave while she takes a phone call, “Yes, we do takeout!”

“You don’t need to worry about the host stand, but I’ll show you the book so you can get a feel for the sections and how we operate. We’ll only give you a small group of tables at first…”

You try to commit everything Nate says to memory, wanting to do well here. You really need this job. Rent isn’t cheap, especially without roommates. And you really don’t want a roommate. Plus this place pays their servers well, so you want to be good at it. You really really need to listen to Nate if you’re gonna be good at this.

But, jeez, Nate seems like he loves to talk. He’s going on and on and on and you’re fighting back a yawn when Mary swoops in like a hero, telling Nate she needs the book back to make a reservation.

“Sure, I think you’ve got the idea of it anyway, right?” Nate asks.

You blink, “Oh, yeah. Sure do!”

Shit, you think. You totally zoned out.

“Great, let me show you to the bar,” Nate says, already walking away.

Another reason why you really want to work here was for the ambiance. It’s a contemporary place with a grungy interior, all while remaining slightly upscale for restaurants in this area. Another upside was the live music. If you’re gonna be working, at least let it be somewhere nice with good music.

“Sirius! New server’s here,” Nate interrupts the bartender who’s in the process of mixing up a cocktail. You introduce yourself with a shy smile as you study him, trying to make a permanent link between his name and face in your mind.

Sirius the bartender—mischievous gray eyes and long black hair. He wears half of it tied up in the back of his head, surly to avoid having it fall in his face while he mixes drinks.

He puts the shaker down and rolls up the sleeves of his satin black dress shirt, “Hey there, doll, y’alright? Natey not being too boring for ya?”

“Alright, back to work, Sirius.” Nate says, sounding snappy.

You follow Nate to the back of the restaurant.

“This is the kitchen—“

“Who the fuck rang in scallops? We’ve been 86 scallops all fucking day.”

“Don’t look at me! Was probably James, the bloody dolt.”

“This seems like a bad time,” Nate spins on his heels and ushers you out of the kitchen quickly, “Whoever trains you will get you acclimated to the kitchen later. That’s Remus, just so you know, head chef.”

You nod, not having anything else to say as you begin to worry everyone won’t be as nice as Mary.

You want to take a moment to commit Remus’ name to memory like you had Sirius and Mary’s, but you only caught a glimpse of him. Still, you were sure you wouldn’t forget who the name belonged to now that you’ve had such a lovely first impression.

Next, Nate takes you down a hall, past the bathrooms, to show you his office and the staff area complete with a rickety table for breaks and some lockers. In the corner are two plastic bins with fading sharpie scrawled across the front of them: CLEAN and DIRTY. Nate reaches into the “clean” bin and picks out a slate gray apron.

He hands it to you, and you try to tie it the way the server in the kitchen had it. Nate starts leading you back out into the dining room as you continue to fiddle with the ties.

As you dart around the restaurant, the “fast-paced environment” detail from the job listing is really starting to materialize, and this was only the tour.

“Right, now where are my bloody servers.” Nate mutters under his breath, “Slacking off by the host stand, of course.”

There’s two servers at the host stand: a girl with red hair hanging in two braids on either side of her face and a tall boy with glasses. They’re huddled with Mary, looking like they’re sharing hot gossip.

You and Nate make it to the host stand at the same time as the other server from the kitchen.

“Hey, team!” Nate says, but it falls on deaf ears.

“Chef’s fuckin’ pissed at you,” she says to Glasses.

“What I do!?” He asks, whipping his body out of the huddle. Mary and the red-haired girl keep talking without him.

“Thinks you rang in some scallops,” she shrugs, blowing a strand of blonde hair out of her face.

“Why would I do that? We’re 86.”

“Yeah, but I forgot,” she says nonchalantly, leaning her back against the host stand.

“And you let him think it was me!?”

“Oh yeah, obviously. Anyway, I should probably go tell my table they’re not getting their scallops.”

“Servers!” Nate interrupts loudly, finally making your four new coworkers quiet down. You feel all eyes suddenly train on you. You smile through the uncomfortable sensation of your stomach lurching.

“We have a new member joining our team today. Please give a warm welcome to Y/N.”

“Hi,” you flash a smile to the new faces in front of you.

“Welcome!” The red-haired girl returns a bright smile of her own, “I’m Lily, I love your earrings.”

“Marlene,” the blonde says plainly.

And finally—

“Hiya, Love. I’m James,” the one with glasses says coolly as he rests an elbow on the host stand. He exudes confidence, and it makes you want to shrink into yourself.

You try to study the three of them to commit names to faces.

Lily—fiery red hair, kind eyes, and a fair complexion with a sprinkling of freckles.

Marlene—you like the way her blonde hair is cut into a shag. She also kind of intimidates you, so you really want to remember her name.

James—glasses, tousled dark hair, very attractive. That last part probably wasn’t a necessary attribute to help you remember his name, but it was true. He has a tall, toned frame that would’ve made him seem intimidating if not for the way his eyes transformed into the physical embodiment of sunshine when he smiled. Were your hands getting sweaty?

“Alright, great. Introductions are done, now I need someone to be a trainer.” Nate claps his hands together, waiting for a volunteer.

“I have to go give a table bad news, so-”

Nate cuts Marlene off before she can hastily run away, “Wasn’t gonna ask you anyway.”

James is eyeing you, sizing you up it seems, when he pipes up, “I’ll do it.”

Marlene snorts. “Weren’t you saying an hour ago that Nate better not dump the-”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Marls,” James says through clenched teeth, glaring sideways at her.

You felt like quitting on the spot, thinking that you were obviously a burden on these people. Being a burden to James, specifically, felt particularly embarrassing. It had your face heating up.

“Great! Thanks James,” Nate says, “Y/N, you’re in good hands. I’ll be in the office if you need anything. The rest of you, get back to work!”

With a reluctant groan from Marlene and a “nice to meet you” from Lily, the small crowd disperses. All except for you and James.

“I’m sorry you got saddled with training me.”

“Aw man, no! Marlene was just-” James cuts himself off with a sigh, “Fine, I didn’t think I’d want to train today. But I changed my mind, so don’t feel like you’re a burden or something, alright?”

James seems pretty genuine, so you digress. Not without a joke first, though.

“Just remember you asked for it later when you get tired of me.”

“I have a feeling that’s not gonna happen,” James says, a certain playfulness dancing in his eyes.

As a new party walks into the restaurant, James leads you toward a nearby order station so that you’ll be out of the way.

“So, you’re gonna wanna forget everything Nate told you,” he says as you walk, “I’m gonna show you how we actually run this place.” He shoots a boyish smirk over his shoulder.

“That shouldn’t be very hard, I don’t think I was awake for any of it,” you admit with a chuckle.

“Ooh, I’m gonna like you!” James swings his body around when you reach the order station, “We love Nate slander here. Behind his back of course.”

“That’s worrisome,” you say, trying to find a comfortable way to lean against the terminal. You end up just standing up straight, “He seemed kind of nice.”

“You ever work in a restaurant before?” James leans toward you, looking coy, and you do your best not to shrink away from him.

“Yeah, I was a hostess.”

“You ever been friends with any of your old managers?”

You think about it for a minute, “No.”

“Exactly,” James leans back and you feel your shoulders relax at once. “He’s alright, but he’s still the boss. Plus, it’s good for server morale to have a common enemy.”

James earns a laugh from you, and he smiles brightly as if it’s the biggest honor.

“So, when do you get off?”

“I’m closing, I think.”

“Nate has you closing on your first shift? Diiiiick move.”

“He asked first and I told him I could handle it.”

“He shouldn’t have asked.” James insists, then he waves it off as if deciding what’s done is done, “That’s alright, you’ll be able to stick with me. But in light of that, I’ll make today easy for you. You can watch while I take orders, and I’ll show you how I ring them all in here,” James pats the POS terminal, “And you can help me get bread and refills out to tables mostly. I won’t make you take orders today ‘coz it’s a bit rowdy in here, but maybe if we’re sat with an easy table we’ll see how you’re feeling.”

You nod along, not having anything to say, not that you had the chance. James is a fast talker and you’re beginning to notice how full of energy he is. It’s a tad amusing, and it’s beginning to show on your face.

“What?” James asks, eyes flicking down to your growing smile.

With a slight shake of your head, you say, “You a big coffee drinker?”

“Y’know, I get that a lot,” James reaches into the underside of the order station, and pulls out a canned beverage, “But I’m partial to these.”

Your face scrunches up as James takes a sip of what you like to call battery acid in a can.

James makes a big show of acting refreshed, emitting a long sigh when the can leaves his lips, “Not your cup of tea, I take it?” James raises an eyebrow.

“My cup of tea would be actual tea. Or coffee-“

“Coffee’s any better?”

“A million times, yes.”

“I beg to differ.”

“You can’t be serious.”

James’ eyes light up like you’ve just handed him a prize, “You’re right, that’s the bartender. ‘Ave you met him?”

It takes you a moment to register what he means, and then you’re rolling your eyes, “Oh, I’m gonna hear that joke a lot from you aren’t I?”

“You’re gonna hear that joke all day from everyone, Love, it’s a house favorite.”

As you’re about to quip back, Lily squeezes between you two to ring in some food.

“James, enough flirting. Some of your tables are starting to look pissed,” she says, tapping on the screen quickly to get the order in.

“I’m not flirting,” James protests, but the wink he shoots you begs to differ.

Lily takes a break from noting modifications for a sandwich order to look at you, “James is always flirting, you’ll learn to ignore him.”

James is looking at you over her shoulder, shaking his head and swirling his index finger by the side of hers, mouthing “she’s crazy.”

As Lily resumes removing tomatoes from the order, she catches James in the act and swats his hand away, “Seriously, James, they’re starting to flag me down because they haven’t seen you in ages.”

James clutches his hand close to his chest. His eyes flit between you and Lily, a mock-horrified look on his face that communicates “see, I told you she’s crazy!”

“Who?” he asks.

“Your tables, you dunce,” Lily hisses, but there are notes of humor in her voice.

James bares his teeth as grimaces and checks his wrist for a watch that doesn’t exist, “Bollocks, look at the time. Come Y/N, I’ll show you how to turn an angry table into a happy one.”

You have to stifle a laugh as you follow James to his tables, mentally adding him to the list of reasons why you really want to work here.

[rose24207]

hello, hope you’re doing well! can i request a normal!lando with a average salary, job, house, lifestyle etc with like a billionaire ceo reader except lando doesn’t know how much wealth she has as she is living with him with his average lifestyle. but one day lando somehow finds out about her wealth/ceo status and feels inadequate for her?

More than enough

Summary: Lando, living a modest life, discovers that his girlfriend is a secret billionaire CEO and battles his feelings until she reassures him that he is her home and true happiness.

Genre: normal!Lando, CEO!reader, angst, fluff

TW: None!

A/N: love it! I want more of this!! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

P2

Masterlist

Lando���s life wasn’t glamorous, but it was good. He worked hard as a mechanic at a local garage, coming home each day with grease-stained hands and a sense of satisfaction from solving the day’s problems. His house was modest—a small two-bedroom in a quiet neighborhood. It wasn’t much, but it was home.

And it had become so much brighter since you moved in.

You’d been dating for almost two years, and Lando still couldn’t quite believe his luck. You were kind, funny, and effortlessly elegant. There was a grace to you that seemed out of place in his world, but you never made him feel lesser for it. You fit seamlessly into his life, cooking with him in his tiny kitchen, laughing over cheap wine, and cheering him on when he worked on his side project—a beat-up old car he dreamed of restoring.

He never questioned how you managed to adapt so easily. Sure, you didn’t talk much about your job, but you’d mentioned working in management, which made sense given how busy you often were with meetings.

Lando never doubted you. Until now.

It started with a package. Lando had been working late, his boss asking him to cover for a coworker, so he’d missed the courier who’d dropped it off. The label caught his attention immediately. The sender was listed as an investment firm he’d only ever heard of in passing, the kind that managed accounts for people with money he couldn’t even fathom.

Curiosity tugged at him as he set it on the counter. He wouldn’t have thought much of it if not for the name on the package: yours.

When you arrived home that evening, he tried to shrug it off.

“Hey, babe,” he greeted, his usual easygoing smile in place. “Something came for you today.”

You paused, your eyes flicking to the package on the counter. For a split second, your expression shifted—something almost imperceptible. But then you smiled, walking over to kiss his cheek. “Thanks for grabbing it.”

“What is it?” he asked casually.

“Oh, just some work stuff,” you replied, your tone breezy. “Nothing exciting.”

But the way you picked it up and carried it to your office without another word left Lando uneasy.

The second crack in the facade came a week later. Lando had been searching for a new wrench set online, scrolling through deals, when an email notification popped up on your laptop.

The subject line read: Quarterly Earnings Report.

Lando’s hand hovered over the mouse, guilt gnawing at him even as curiosity won out. He clicked.

The email was dense, full of numbers that made his head spin, but one thing was clear: the company wasn’t just successful—it was yours. Your name was listed at the top of the report, credited as the CEO. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut.

Lando sat back in his chair, staring at the screen. You’d never mentioned anything like this. Management, sure—but running a company worth billions? Living in his tiny house, working around his middle-class lifestyle as if it were second nature? Why hadn’t you told him?

You found him in the garage later that evening, tinkering with his project car. He was unusually quiet, his responses to your questions short and clipped.

“Lando, is something wrong?” you asked, leaning against the workbench.

He hesitated, his back to you, before finally turning around. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You frowned, confused. “Tell you what?”

“That you’re a CEO. That you—” He gestured vaguely, his words failing him. “That you’re loaded, apparently.”

Your heart sank. “You went through my stuff?”

“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “It was an email. I wasn’t snooping, I swear. But you never mentioned it. Not once.”

You sighed, stepping closer. “Lando, I wasn’t hiding it to keep secrets from you. I just… I didn’t want it to matter.”

“Well, it kind of does,” he said bitterly, running a hand through his hair. “You’re out there running a billion-dollar company, and I’m here fixing cars in a tiny garage. How is that supposed to work?”

“Why wouldn’t it work?”

He laughed humorlessly. “Because I can’t give you what you’re used to. I can’t even come close. You’re slumming it here with me when you could have… I don’t know, someone who fits your world.”

“Lando, stop,” you said firmly, reaching for his hands. “I’m here because I want to be. With you.”

“But why?” he asked, his voice cracking. “You could have anyone.”

“I don’t want anyone else,” you said, your tone softening. “Lando, the life I had before you—yes, it was luxurious, but it was also lonely. You don’t realize how rare it is to meet someone who sees you for who you are, not what you have.”

He looked down at your hands in his, his expression conflicted. “But I can’t give you anything you don’t already have.”

“That’s not true,” you said, lifting his chin so he’d meet your eyes. “You’ve given me a home. A real one. You’ve given me love and laughter and late-night drives in your beat-up car. I don’t care about money, Lando. I care about you.”

His shoulders slumped, the weight of his insecurities pressing down on him. “It just feels like I’m not enough.”

“You are more than enough,” you said firmly. “And I’ll keep telling you that until you believe it.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the only sound the faint hum of the streetlights outside. Then Lando pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice steady. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

As he held you, Lando felt the tension slowly leave his body. He didn’t have all the answers yet, but one thing was clear: you weren’t with him for what he could give you. You were with him for who he was.

And that was a kind of wealth he’d never take for granted.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @hxxi3, @cherryblossom-92, @same1995, @amatswimming

[officialundertakersmoocher]

can u do the “being ____’s lover” thing but with grelle pls? sfw and nsfw too. have a nice day/night!!

Being Grelle's Lover may Include...

i feel like it's pretty obvious that Grelle is bisexual and doesn't really care about your gender

as long as you like her she loves you ❤️

Grelle is super hyper all of the time so she will constantly be overjoyed just to be in your presence

she would also be a big fan of playing dress up with you and trying her best to fashion you in all different shades of red

girly activities would be her favorite. you will be having tea with her and playing dress up because you love her!

grelle is always showering you with attention and love and if you can't handle it, bye bye baby!

she would be the type of girlfriend to feed you dessert off of a spoon and if you found this embarrassing, she would continue to be even more dramatic about it to tease you :)

she would love cutesy displays of affection such as swinging your hands as you walk or spinning each other in a make-shift dance

you probably won't be able to escape the inevitable moment where grelle brings you to her office and the teasing ensues

(grelle loves to talk about you to her coworkers)

she would find ways to see you almost every day as long as her work permits it

you could be minding your business and poof! here she is!

she's definitely an eccentric, and i can imagine that she would love to take on many hobbies (even if she doesn't keep them up for long)

she would also love to learn about your hobbies and even try them out (maybe fail a little- but of course you could comfort her your all your might-)

she would really love if you were to plan cute dates for the both of you to enjoy- especially something romantic like a coffee shop or book store!

grelle is also the type of girlfriend to start a small argument with you for the soul purpose off gaining your attention and so that you can both cuddle afterwards

Nsfw

i can imagine that grelle loves the chase

she would be overjoyed if you send her some steamy pictures while she was at work

she would really love make out sessions and the sensual touching that comes before sex

she's a woman, of course, and loves to take it slow

that doesn't mean, though, that she wouldn't be into anything kinky, in fact it's the exact opposite

she loves roleplay and fake scenarios

it would be her dream if you would indulge her and let her play out this kink

she also would love bondage, and she wouldn't care which end receives it

she also would love to experiment with toys and such

she definitely is a crazy girl in the bedroom, and would love to try out anything new

if you really do not want to indulge in any kinky activities, she wouldn't push it but she might make some lighthearted jokes about you being the the more vanilla one 🤍

Grelle is the type to immediately fall asleep after sex, but she would love to cuddle

she also doesn't mind doing casual sexual activities and she loves make out sessions

she could easily get bored of doing the same things in the bedroom, though, but she wouldn't keep it to herself and doesn't mind having healthy conversations about boundaries and what you both want

[nnon0]

JJH fic recs #3

previous fic recs : 1. 2.

note: hey yall ik it’s been a while ive been busy with life and truth be told, it’s been getting pretty hard to find good fics to recommend cuz i feel like ive read them all 😭😭😭 anyway jaehyun’s SOLO REVIVED ME SO IM BACK 😜 but im prob just gonna keep updating and adding to this post with fics and not make anymore posts so everytime yall come back there’s gonna be new fics AND PLS RECOMMEND SOME FICS AS WELL

(🫀) - personal faves

(🫀) TRY AGAIN @kaleidohscopic

WC:32.4k

exes to lovers, coworkers! au

if you could have it your way, you'd never have to see, hear, or even think about jeong jaehyun ever again. a fortuitous blind date, and that same dimpled smile after all those years, is somehow enough to make you reconsider. maybe he was always meant to be by your side.

summer of seven years @lebrookestore

WC:30k

summer!au writer!jaehyun

Coming back home was hard for both you and Jaehyun, but when you realize both of you are back in the same place again, feelings from three years ago rise to the surface, and you start to realize that the things you thought you knew when you were younger never quite played out.

(🫀)His love, Her force @anashins

WC:28k

Undercover detective!jaehyun x ballerina!reader , fake marriage au, slow burn

Fleeing from a ruthless stalker, you are forced to participate in a witness protection program at the other side of the world, pretending to be the wife of a taciturn undercover detective from now on. Despite all differences, you slowly start to settle with your new life as a married couple - until your newfound happiness is stripped away from you all over again.

(🫀) BAD HABITS @jaedore

WC:21k

Boxer!jaehyun

You were never really good at saying ‘no’ to people, always a people pleaser, listening to your teachers, parents, to authority. Jung Jaehyun is a professional boxer attempting to make it to the top with the help of your father, who used to be a well known boxer. Being in a friends with benefits relationship with Jaehyun would be the last thing you’d find yourself in-you’re always focused on finishing college, studying hard, and sticking to yourself. With you pushing your feelings down for him and him focused on other things, you’re already in too deep to pull out of this complication. When will it be too much? When is your breaking point?

(🫀) cynosure - a focal point of admiration @drquinzelharleen

WC:20.4k

surgeon!jaehyun , enemies-to-lovers

When the young hot shot doctor, Jung Jaehyun, has been solicited to your hospital. He is to become the new Chief of Surgery. Your excitement and curiosity are soon to be washed away by his cocky disposition.

no guidance @yutaholic

WC:20k

knocked up, smut, pregnancy au

You insist on keeping things casual with Jaehyun, even though he wants something more serious, but then you miss a period and in an instant, your lives are turned completely upside down.

happy now? @hwaflms

wc: 19.9k

ex!jaehyun, fake dating au

your family has been pressuring you for months to bring your boyfriend, jaehyun, over for dinner, and you think it’s really sweet that they like him so much. the only problem is that your “boyfriend” jaehyun, hates you.

(🫀) ordinary people @ppangjae

WC: 18.3k

friends-to-lovers, fake dating!au, ceo!jaehyun

Jaehyun’s parents are coming home for Christmas and he may have made the biggest mistake of telling them he has a ‘girlfriend’. Insert you, his best friend, who so happens to be the only girl he knows and trusts. You, on the other hand, would have never expected Jaehyun to show up at your door at two in the morning with nothing but a proposition; to be his fake girlfriend. And man, are you in big trouble.

(🫀)ethereal @celestialmark

WC: 16.7k

fluff, life lessons

(note: shed a tear reading this it was so beautiful i highly highly recommend)

Jaehyun was indeed way more than his good looks. Jaehyun was gentle, honest and sincere, you felt it all in the way he smiled, the way he talked and in the way he kissed you. He was the living definition of ethereal, and his beauty shone the most on the inside

(🫀)SUN&MOON @ppangjae

WC:14.6k

enemies-to-lovers, fake dating

Asking Jeong Jaehyun to accompany you to your family’s 1-week Christmas vacation as your boyfriend has its consequences. One can surely get through 1 week of pretending to be in love with an enemy, right?

(🫀) chasing stars, losing you @prodbymaui

WC: 14k

exes to lovers, ceo!jaehyun x model!reader

When your relationship got announced, it made noises louder that anyone could've imagined. Of course it will, a pair containing a supermodel and a CEO of one of the most successful enterprise that made a name in both the fashion and business industry. But soon enough, everyone witnessed how the perfect relationship they had been envying crumbled down into tiny pieces until there's nothing left to pick up.

(🫀) if we were a movie @sehunniepotwrites

WC:14k

childhood friends to lovers!au , college au , theatre/drama au

For someone who was always the understudy and never the lead, scoring this role was huge for you. All you had to do was pretend to be in love with your best friend. No big deal, right? Wrong. It was the biggest deal because, for the past four years, you had been hiding your feelings for Jung Jaehyun.

If this were a movie, he would be your perfect match and the story would end happily with the credits rolling to a perfectly timed soundtrack. Too bad this wasn’t a movie— this was real life and life came with complications.

model cowboy @smileysuh

WC:13.2k

actor!jaehyun x singer!reader, enemies to lovers, fake dating

You maintain eye contact until the moment your lips meet, and then, you do your best to just relax, to forget about the cameras pointed at you. You allow yourself to melt into the kiss, following Jaehyun's motions, following the gentle notes that soon become more heated. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip, and on instinct, you open your mouth for him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer.  You try to convince yourself that you’re leaning into this for the sake of the scene, that you’re just being good actors together, but there’s something underneath it all. There’s a desperation. You can almost taste it below the spearmint on his tongue. 

oops, baby (i love you) @prodbymaui

WC:12.5k+

modern royalty au, arranged marriage

you had been living your life as a rebellious and controversial crown princess, now you must face the consequence of purifying your tainted image; marrying the gentle and infamous crown prince of South Korea.

deadly kiss @slightlymore

WC: 12k+

chief architect jaehyun x chief engineer fem reader

office au, enemies? to lovers, dom x dom and trying to force each other to sub, romance, smut, fluff

(🫀) FEELINGS @ppangjae

WC:11.6k

f2l!au, fake dating! au

After many failed first dates, Jaehyun decides to take matters into his own hands and teach you how they work and what you should do to guarantee yourself a second date. But of course, this is just a plan that’s set up for failure.

in your court @boymeetsweevil

WC:10.8k

basketball player!jaehyun , bff!haechan

Two idiots in love, oc is scary when mad, hyuck is crafty always, jae is a bit intense but he’s just trying his best, gratuitous descriptions of dimples, a kiss!!! sfw!

coparenting @eleganzadellarosa

wc: 10.3k

angst, fluff smut

babydaddy!Jaehyun x fem!reader

(🫀)SEVEN LETTERS @ppangjae

WC: 10.1k+

soulmate!au , childhood friends-to-lovers , slight fake dating

On a camping trip, you find a message in a bottle that’s been washed up the shore, only to find out that it’s a message from you in the future. Your message tells you three things:

1. You must make Jeong Jaehyun fall in love with you because,

2. He’s your soulmate and

3. Because of your future self’s mistake, he ended up falling in love with someone else.

the wedding @jae-canikeepyou

WC:9.5k

rivals!jaehyun fluff-crackish

jeong jaehyun’s your long-time friend, and as far as one could remember, every single and little thing you both do ends to a competition; it turned into a permanent kind of relationship you have for over a decade now. no one expects that it would ever change, not until a childhood friend of yours from high school decides to make you two as his singers for his upcoming wedding.

one more time @moondustis

WC:9.4k

smut, friends to lovers

Maybe this right here is a story about growing up and finding yourself, or about finding love and being vulnerable. But it definitely is a story about friendship, skating, pancakes and Jung Jaehyun learning how to deal with his feelings.

(🫀) rose bud @hazyhae

WC:9.2k

stoner!fuckboy!jaehyun , smut

friday nights are party nights, and it's here that your feet always seem to lead you to your favorite stoner. you know the sweet words that leave jaehyun's mouth don't belong just to you, but something about him leaves you wanting more.

baby @moonctzeny

wc:9.1k

college au, fake dating!au

When Yuta breaks your heart for the millionth time, you meet Jaehyun, freshly broken up and looking for revenge. You decide to start fake dating to get back on your exes, but your plan takes an unexpected turn. You fall in love.”

when fratboy falls @gyeomsweetgyeom

WC: 8.9k

fratboy!jaehyun x tutor!reader

Jaehyun is a fratboy with a notorious reputation for being a playboy, you have never heard of him. surely, he can use tutoring as an excuse to get close to you, right?

hello again, my sunshine @alluringjae

WC:8.5k

high school reunion!au, business lawyer!jaehyun, fashion designer!reader, high school best friends to strangers to lovers!au

there’s no more running away when you’re thriving in the fashion industry, yet it’s exactly what you want to do when you encounter your first love after a decade in your high school reunion.

(🫀) The lies of apollo @jaevie

WC:8k

Spy!jaehyun x spy!reader , forbidden love , smut , enemies to lovers

As powerful corporations seek to sun privatization, two spies find themselves falling in love and discovering the wonders of physical affection.

Head over Broomsticks @sehunniepotwrites

WC: 3.5k

Hogwarts!au Sports!au Quidditch!au Gryffindor!jaehyun

When your friends are tired of watching you and your crush go around in circles, they take matters into their own hands. Putting their Advanced Potions skills to the test, Donghyuck and Chenle conjure up a powerful truth serum and slip it in your drink right before a Quidditch game, which leads to a few inappropriate comments about No. 77, Jeong Jaehyun, of Gryffindor’s Quidditch team. This would’ve been fine if you were just a regular spectator but you are much more than that--you’re the Announcer and everyone is subjected to hear your unfiltered thoughts. Just great.

SERIES

(🫀) when icarus falls @baobaojng

college athlete!au , crush!au

(note: this series genuinely brought me to tears btw I HIGHLY RECOMMEND )

some tragic story of you sharing one class with your long time college crush jaehyun who never notices you until he accidentally reads your work and he gets curious— oh, and he uses lame excuses to get to talk to you.

[tac-the-unseen]

Stalker König

CW: talks of mental health, concerns not taken seriously, stalking, talks of Guns, Reader is doing their best, you better be ready to Google the meaning of flowers 💕

Your eyes shift to the oven's clock.

1:23 am

You huddle in the corner of your kitchen, silently crying, and shaking with every bone of your body. You desperately clutch a kitchen knife while praying that….that thing goes away.

For the past three months the shadows have been terrorizing you. You Know that when you look into the dark, something is looking back at you. Everybody you've talked to has told you, you were crazy. You've been called paranoid, and a few days ago someone called APS on you. They'd decided that you weren't in any immediate danger, but said they'd come back to check on you.

Tonight you couldn't sleep. Your body shuddered with terror with just the thought of closing your eyes. It's been a combination of little things that has built to this.

At first it was just small things going missing. Pens you left out, the sticky notes you doodled on, jewelry you didn't wear often. In fact the only reason you noticed things of yours was going missing, was because you wanted to wear a particular pair of fancy earrings to a company event. You looked for 30 minutes before just wearing another pair.

Then your favorite book disappeared. After a long day you were really looking forward to reading that book in bed before you passed out. But when you entered your room, the book wasn't on the shelf. You looked up and down, but you couldn't find it anywhere. You throw one of your other books across the wall out of frustration and left it there for the night. When you woke up that book was gone too.

Then things you've never owned started to show up in places you frequent. A red beaded bracelet you've never seen before showed up next to your kitchen sink. That new lipstick shade you've been wanting to try, You found it in your medicine cabinet when you went to brush your teeth. All that is spooky at best, but what really frightened you was a single bullet left on your office desk.

You told your boss you were sick and went home for the day…or at least that's where you told him you were going. You went straight into a public area like the women of your past have told you too, if you think you're in danger.

Kidnappers never take their victim in a crowded area.

Safer in numbers.

Cry, scream, kick, but never stop fighting.

You walked into a casual sit down restaurant and spent all night looking up what kind of bullet you were clutching in your palm.

A 9mm, just a small hunk of metal.

But you've never even held a gun, let alone own one.

You want to believe that a coworker accidentally dropped it on your desk, but it was perfectly placed. It was set up underneath your computer monitor, just out of sight for those passing, but when you sat down at your desk only you could see it.

This was deliberate.

This was not a coincidence.

But why? Why would you leave a bullet on someone's work desk? Is this a death threat? Is someone threatening your life? That thought alone made you crumble faster than you expected. You fought back tears while trying to think of who you might have pissed off.

The Receptionist you at your office? All you said was that you wouldn't be attending her baby shower. And anyway she got her revenge by ‘accidently’ eating your lunch.

The Uber driver you gave two stars too after he made a creepy comment about your chest? He just gave you a one star review a few minutes after.

That one girl in highschool that didn't like you? She peaked in highschool, you doubt she'd have the guts to pull off this stunt.

By the time you're ready to leave, it was night. You felt the fear fraying at your edges, the shadow’s non-existent eyes watching you, so you called one of your friends to pick you up.

You faked being drunk on the ride home. When she asked you about work, you said that they cut your shift without telling you and that you didn't mean to get wasted.

You're not sure she bought it, but she never brought it up.

When she pulls up to the house, you thank her, and pretend to stumble out of her car. She made sure you got inside before leaving and you haven't spoken since. But you couldn't worry about that now.

Your paranoia creeped in and made you check every corner of your house. Afterwards you crashed onto the couch and watched Judge Judy until you fell asleep.

When you woke up one of the blankets from your bed was wrapped around you.

You don't remember doing that.

You've never done that before. That panic in your stomach quaked and you got up to do another search around your home.

You found nothing, but called in sick anyway.

Two days later, and back at the office, you were clacking away at your keyboard when one of the mail distributors knocked on your door. The carrier was 17 if you remembered right, he was one of their nicer carriers. He was always kind to everyone in the office and was always telling jokes.

This time instead of carrying a letter or a stack of files, he was holding a large bouquet of Coral Roses, Anemones, red carnations, and Heliotropes. It was a gorgeous assortment of warm tones with just a little cool tones to balance everything.

“Caught someone’s eye?” The boy asked playful. You stand up to accept the gift. “Does it say from who?” You ask curiously. “Nope, just that it's for you.” You pick up the flowers and set them onto your already crowded desktop. “Someone has a secret admirer!” The boy teases and chuckles at his joke. “At least they're not cheap. I've delivered flowers to people before, but nothing this big before. Who ever it is, they really like you, or really need something from you…” he pause for a second “Well, it's a nice jester non the less.”

“I suppose it is…Tell you what, if you snag me an extra muffin from the community breakfast tomorrow morning, I'll make sure to update you if anything else comes up.” you hold out your hand to him. He thinks about it for a second before shaking your hand. “Deal!”

By the end of your day, you gently placed the flowers into the passenger seat. You've spent all day thinking about the flowers and who sent them. Just like the bullet, you didn't have a clue, But it was still nice to be appreciated like this.

No one's gotten you flowers before.

Because this was your first ever bouquet you dislodged some flowers and tied them upside down into your closet. You also persevered some in salt. You put the rest of the flowers into two glass bottles with some water.

You thought about persevering more, but you felt like that was a bit excessive. Besides you don't know where or who they're from….what if they are from the same person that left the bullet?

Those are two very different messages…

Soon enough You begin to spiral down a rabbit hole of anxiety and theories. deciding to (hopefully) sleep it off, you crawl to bed and bury yourself in your blankets.

Suddenly your body jolts you awake.

Through the sleepy haze you don't know what caused you to wake. You look at your phone, that You apparently forgot to charge, and realize it's 2:56 in the morning.

You try and rack your Brain for an answer to your sudden consciousness.

Then you hear it.

Glass.

Glass sliding across the floor in another room.

You look at your phone again.

3%

You figure it's better than nothing, plug it in, and dial 911.

“911, where is your emergency?” A female voice asks through the phone. Then your breath hitches in your throat.

Yes, you know Where you are. But you don't know Where the danger is. You don't even know if there is danger. And even if you did the house is silent, any noise you make could alert whatever is in your house.

You quietly breathe over the phone and slowly lay back down.

“Hello? Is there anybody there? This is 911, what is your emergency?” The woman asks.

You just breathe over the phone and quietly as possible.

“Is there something there that makes you unable to communicate?” The woman asks, finally understanding.

You hum a quiet yes, As inaudible as you can manage.

“Okay. I'm going to find you using your phone's pinged location. I need you to stay on the line with me so we can find and help you, okay?” she asks in a more hushed tone.

You just hum again and strain your ears trying to hear any sound.

You realize that the glass sound has stopped. And quiet footsteps start shuffling around your home.

You can hear doors opening and closing.

Soft breaths.

It's then you make another realization. It's now right outside your door. You can see two large shadows on the bottom of the doorway.

In a panic you turn your phones volume all the way down and hang up. You slide your phone back onto your night stand and pretend to be asleep.

And just in the nick of time too.

Your door softly creeks on its hinges.

The air is still and heavy, making it almost impossible to breathe.

You know you have to keep an even and low breathing pace. One of the tips you picked up in health that randomly stuck in your brain is that sleeping people use less oxygen.

If you wanted to sell this fake sleep, you'd have to force your body to deprive itself of its most valuable resource. Only for a little bit. Just until whatever, whoever is standing in your doorway leaves.

It moves forward

You only know this when they step on the only creaky floorboard in your room.

Whoever is in your room is dead silent.

You have to remind yourself not to furrow your brow when they continue their movement.

The air is still again

It lingers

You hear the sound of fabric shifting and stretching right next to you.

The terror in your chest scratches at your ribs when you feel the gentle movement of your hair sliding behind your ear.

You have not idea what to do.

What do you do?

You rack your brain for what normal people do when they sleep.

Snore? No, if you start now it would be a dead give away.

Mumble? Mumble what? What do people mumble in their sleep? Nothing you can come up with on the spot, that's for sure.

You decide to make a bold move and as lazily as you can shift your body's position.

That's what people do.

You push deeper into your pillow and raise your knee to about stomach level. It's a totally normal sleep position and almost everyone moves in their sleep.

A knot in your stomach churns. You fucking hate yourself. What if they don't buy it? What if you're digging your own grave? For fucks sake you don't even know if the intruder is armed.

The intruder chuckles softly and the shifting of fabric once again is dangerously close.

You think they just stood up?

Whatever, if they're moving, they're likely leaving.

Suddenly you can hear the faint sounds of sirens. They sound only a few streets away.

Your admirer clearly hears the same thing and swiftly makes their move out of the room.

It still terrifies you how quiet they are.

You hear the glass in your hallway slide once more only followed by the sirens getting much closer.

It's only when you hear a pounding at your front door and the announcement of police, do you peel open your eyes and take a deep breath.

When you reach over to retrieve your phone do you feel something else touch your hand.

You readjust your vision and your eyes widen.

A flower

Or flowers

Bright, vivid red flowers.

One stalk, several flowers.

They take hours looking through your home, questioning you.

They tell you to find somewhere else to sleep tonight.

Like you'll ever sleep again.

You put on shoes and walk to a late night convenience store and wait out the stars there. You explain yourself to the cashier and they let you loiter in the store.

But you can't keep the flowers out of your head.

Your phone is only at 28% so you don't have much time to mess around on there.

It takes about 8 minutes but you finally find the flowers that were ‘given’ to you…

Red Salvia…

You really weren't crazy…

Thanks for reading <3

Totally forgot I wrote this.... My bad gang...

Also don't worry about the inconsistencies, I wrote this like 6 months ago and only updated a little bit.

[darlinluxx]

𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 | 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐀𝐄 𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐊 ౨ৎ

pairing : saebyeok x fem!reader

angst, small amount of fluff ???

warnings : angst

summary : you two could never be friends. you’re still in love.

a/n : based off of sick by dominic fike

if you have any requests, feel free to message me <3

𝐓he chipped mug warms your hands, the faded floral pattern a familiar comfort. it’s the same mug you always used, back when your morning routine included a shared kitchen and the lingering scent of Saebyeok’s shampoo. you look out the window, watching the city wake up, the grey light reflecting the grey knot in your stomach. she’s supposed to be here soon.

you made a promise — a promise to be friends. you’d both moved on, gone separate ways after that messy, complicated whirlwind you called “us.” but “friends” was the goal, an amicable postscript to a love that burned too bright, then flickered out. now you just need to do it. be friends.

the doorbell rings, its chime sharp and jarring in the quiet apartment. you take a deep breath, forcing a smile before you open the door. there she is, leaning against the frame, hands shoved in her pockets, the same posture you used to find so captivating. the familiar sting of recognition hits you, a punch to the chest that steals your breath.

“hey,” she says, her voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine, a shiver that has absolutely nothing to do with the chilly morning air.

“hey, Saebyeok.” you reply, trying to keep the tremble out of your voice. you usher her inside, feeling strangely self-conscious of your small apartment, the same apartment she used to know so well.

she surveys the room, a flicker of something — perhaps nostalgia — crossing her face. you offer her the mug in your hands, filled with lukewarm tea. she accepts, her fingers brushing yours as she takes it. a jolt, electric and unwelcome, courses through you. it’s just a touch, barely a thing, but your body remembers. it remembers her. you remember her. too well.

you try to talk about the weather, about work, about anything that isn’t the heavy silence that seems to hang between you. you’re both being so careful, walking on eggshells made of unspoken feelings. but with every shared laugh, every accidental glance, the wall you’ve been desperately trying to build around your heart crumbles a little bit more.

she tells you about her new coworkers, how frustrating it is learning new systems. you nod, pretending to listen, but all you can hear is the way her laughter used to fill your apartment, the way her hand used to fit perfectly in yours. you catch yourself staring at the way her hair falls across her forehead, the way she always pushes it back with an impatient flick of her wrist. you find yourself lost in the little details, the details you thought you’d forgotten.

the casual conversation continues, but you feel like an imposter, a fraud playing the role of a “friend.” your every word is a carefully constructed facade, each syllable a lie designed to hide the truth that simmers beneath your skin. the truth that seeing her, hearing her low voice, being in the same room as her, still makes your heart ache like it’s been wrenched from your chest.

the afternoon wears on. you share stories, your laughter echoing in the small space, a hollow imitation of the genuine joy you once shared. by the time she stands up to leave, you feel exhausted, drained from the effort of maintaining this charade.

at the door, she turns back, a hesitant smile on her lips. “this was nice.” she says, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

“yeah,” you reply, your voice barely a whisper. “nice.”

she steps out into the hallway, and you close the door, leaning against it, your breath catching in your throat. the “friend” act was exhausting. it was too much.

you look around the apartment, now silent. the mug sits on the counter, a silent witness to your internal struggle. you know, deep down, that you can’t do this. you can’t pretend to be friends with someone you’re still so desperately in love with. you can’t be around her and not want more. you can’t handle the constant push and pull of desire and denial. you realize with a painful clarity that you can’t have this “friendship” because you still want her, want everything, in a way that being friends doesn’t allow for.

the truth hits you with the force of a tidal wave. you can’t be friends with her because you’re still hopelessly, irrevocably in love with her. and that, you know, is a war you can’t possibly win.

[joojeans]

˚◞♡ ⃗ Unfinished Business

♡ Sort-of-kind-of-Boyfriend!K x Afab!Reader x Former Flame!Fuma

♡ Summary: K is the perfect... what would you call him? Boyfriend? FWB? Neither feel quite right. But he's perfect. You just didn't know how perfect he was until he gave you a once in a lifetime opportunity with a former flame that you never quite got out of your head... that also happens to be one of his friends.

♡ WC: 7.6k

♡ Content: threesome but no mxm contact, variations of the word 'fuck' used literally 42 times, pet names, a singular 'good girl' mention (it's fuma leave me alone), oral (m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), unprotected sex (be smart), creampie x2, lil bit of dumbification, dirty talk, fuma and k talking about reader as if she isn't there (objectifying her but she loves it), clit play, breast play, maybeee a bit of humiliation if you're easily embarrassed, reader is wearing a skirt, reader has at least shoulder length hair, fuma can lift reader (fuma can lift anything lbr), only half proofread but tbh i never proofread anything

One of your favorite things about dating K is that he’s always down. Any time, anywhere, any thing. 

You’ve been seeing each other for a few months now–it’s not exactly a romance, but it’s not exactly friends with benefits either. You go on dates, have fun together, have sleepovers, have sex. You guess it’s called ‘casual dating.’ You’re not trying to be the love of each others’ lives, but from what you’ve gathered, neither of you is seeing anyone else either. It’s nice. There’s no pressure, no competition for each other’s time or attention. Just a lot of good time spent together smiling and laughing and fucking.

You weren’t planning on seeing each other tonight. K had plans to hang out with one of his friends and you were probably going to stay at home, taking a long, steamy bath while you wished you were in K’s bed instead.

That is until you overheard a coworker talking about a new romance movie showing at the cinema.

To anyone else, texting your sort-of kind-of boyfriend to see a romance movie with you in the middle of the work day would sound like a sweet date. 

You and K aren’t anyone else.

Since you’ve been dating, you’ve made a hobby out of watching cheesy romance movies to laugh and recreate the scenes in an obscenely over-the-top manner that the movies definitely don’t deserve. They’re really very nice, most of the time. But it’s much more fun to pick them apart and over exaggerate their often unrealistic plot lines. You’ve found yourselves laughing on your apartment floor more than a couple times doing just that.

You really didn’t expect K to agree to go. You only texted him about it today (read: last minute) and he already told you earlier in the week that he had plans tonight. Fortunately, you’re dating an impressive man that has all the energy needed to make time for everything when necessary. He agreed to go as long as you were okay with knowing that you would be going home separately this time. Neither of you were particularly thrilled about this “going home separately” business, but sometimes concessions must be made. 

You stumble out of the cinema with K’s hand in yours, both of you giggling like you share a secret. You got a lot of new material from this movie, all while being fed popcorn by the one person that seems to make you excited to be alive. He looks gorgeous when he’s joyous like this–eyes glittering as he looks at you, almost watering from laughing so hard. He stands in front of you, holding both hands now, and leans down to give you a kiss. It’s a i-wish-we-could-spend-more-time-together-tonight kiss. Your lips agree.

He pulls back to pull his phone out of his pocket just enough to check the time. He almost scowls at it. It feels good knowing that he doesn’t want to leave you either.

“You shouldn’t have made me come out with you tonight. Now I don’t want to go.” He finally says the words out loud as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

You turn your head and gently bite the flesh of his palm, making him smirk. “So don’t.”

K is quiet for a few moments, trailing his fingers over your jaw and up the underside of your chin. He’s thinking about it. 

He eventually sighs with a playful smile, pulling you closer to him by your chin as he leans in to kiss you again. “Always so tempting.”

He releases you and looks down at his phone again. You presume someone texted him because he looks around and waves at a car parked somewhere behind you. Damn. Not tempting enough.

“Walk me to the car.” He’s grinning as he says this, eating up the opportunity to have you be chivalrous. Without giving you a choice in the matter, he takes your hand and pulls you with him, walking backwards as he makes cute faces at you. Buttering you up for when he eventually leaves. Of course, it’s working.

As the two of you close in on the car parked by the sidewalk, you see the driver’s side door open and close. You’re paying too much attention to K to take proper notice of who’s walking towards K, only vaguely registering that it’s a man with sandy colored hair.

K sees him before you do somehow–despite literally facing the opposite direction. You guess it’s because K was mindful of his presence already and you, frankly, couldn’t care less about anyone’s presence but K’s right now. K spins around as he and the man meet near the passenger side door of the car, tugging you along with him. “Y/n, this is–”

Fuma.

You didn’t hear K say his name. You didn’t need to. Your ears started ringing the second you registered the man’s face. Fuma.

Fuma seems to have had a similar response because he doesn’t move to shake your hand or say anything. He’s just looking at you, leaning against the side of the car with his arms crossed. I’ll let you take this one, he seems to be saying. Are you going to pretend to be strangers or are you going to tell K the truth?

The truth is that about seven months ago, Fuma was your man of choice. You weren’t in a relationship, but god did you want to be. You both did, you’re pretty sure.

You went on about four dates with him. You didn’t do much talking between dates–just a few texts here and there during the day–but those dates… They were all-consuming.

Being out with Fuma felt like being in a trance. That’s the only way you can think of to describe it. The way he looked at you so intently–with purpose. The way he so gingerly helped you out of the car or lifted you into his arms when your heel broke outside the nice restaurant you were leaving. The way he didn’t need to fill the silence when he was with you because you could communicate perfectly just with your eyes. The way you desperately wanted him to spin you around and fuck you on the hood of his car instead of letting you go back into your apartment alone. Again.

You never did have sex with Fuma and that was not by choice. God, you don’t think you’ve ever wanted anyone to fuck you as bad as you wanted Fuma to fuck you. Just being in his presence was enough to have your panties sticking to you. Just the possibility that he could choose to sleep with you was so exciting that you almost didn’t care that he never did. Well, okay, that’s not entirely true. You really wanted to sleep with him. But the “will they, won’t they” was a good high too.

You wish you two stopped seeing each other for some reason that would make you less attracted to him at this moment, but regrettably, that’s not the case. The only reason you stopped seeing each other is because he got really busy with some work stuff you don’t exactly know the details about and the texts slowed and slowed until they stopped altogether.

If you’d had it your way, you never would’ve stopped seeing him.

Now? You still feel similarly, but you wouldn’t trade what you have with K for anything. You wish you would’ve had a bit more time with Fuma before meeting K and you wish you didn’t still feel your pussy throb at the sight of him, but K is, without a doubt, your priority now. You intend to make that crystal clear to your traitorous body.

You smile politely at Fuma who is clearly fighting off a smirk in return. His gaze drops down your body before meeting your eyes again. It’s quick enough that K doesn’t notice it. In fairness, K has no reason to be looking for it. Not yet. 

But the worst part is the way Fuma is looking at you now.

You swallow thickly, the fire behind his eyes so hot that you can feel yourself getting third degree burns even from a few feet away. You can’t remember him ever looking at you like this. Sure, there were times where he looked at you like he wanted to kiss you more or maybe even see what you had going on beneath your clothes, but it was never like this. He looks like he wants to eat you alive, enjoying his feast the whole way through.

Fuck.

“Hi,” you manage to get out. You need to say something before K realizes that you and Fuma are playing a little game he’s not privy to. It’s also vague… it doesn’t imply that you know each other nor does it imply that you’re strangers. It’s just… hi.

“Hello,” Fuma says, his voice low. That mother fucker. The only other time you’ve heard him use that voice was after your last date. You’d called him not long after he dropped you off at home to tell him you had a good time and to drop hints that you wanted him to take you home with him next time. Being the smart man that he is, Fuma didn’t need any help picking up those hints. You knew he understood your coy attempts by the way he’d said you’re going to look so pretty when you sleep here as he got into his own bed. In that stupid fucking voice that’s making your knees quake even now.

“Dude?” You turn at the sound of K’s voice to find his head cocked as he looks curiously at Fuma, then at you, then at Fuma. He’s smiling like he’s not in on the joke–amused but so very confused. 

“What?” Fuma asks, brows raised in what you’d call challenge.

K hesitates for a moment. Maybe he can sense the vibe between you two too. “Am… Am I missing something here? I’ve never heard your voice like that, dude.”

Fuma glances towards you, giving you the chance to sort out what’s quickly becoming something of a mess. K’s eyes follow his gaze. His brows raise as he stares at the side of your face.

“Okay, what’s going on? This is so weird.”

Your throat feels tight. It really shouldn’t be a big deal that you and Fuma used to see each other before you met K. You were single and it’s not like you knew K was friends with Fuma when you started seeing him. You and K are… well, you’re not sure what you are. But you’re not exactly in a committed relationship. At least, you don’t think so. So why is it so hard for you to just tell him the truth?

Because you still want Fuma to fuck you as badly as you did then, your brain bluntly spells out for you.

Obviously, you can’t say that.

You clear your throat, a sheepish smile curling on your lips as you look at K. “Oh, nothing. It’s just that… we know each other.”

K’s head cocks again, more curious.

“We dated,” Fuma clarifies.

K’s looking at Fuma again now. He looks like he’s waiting for Fuma to tell him it’s all a joke, but he never does.

To your surprise, K just starts laughing.

“Oh, thank god. You guys were being so weird I thought something was really wrong.” His arm slinks around your shoulder.

Okay…

Not wanting to ruin your apparent get out jail free card, you laugh too. Fuma throws in a chuckle as well. All of you seem to be relieved.

Why does this feel weird?

K is looking down at you adoringly, dropping his head to kiss your forehead before turning back to Fuma.

“So, what? Was it just like one date or… Oh my god, did you guys sleep together?” He’s laughing as he asks. He really doesn’t care.

Unless this is him being hysterical before he snaps.

But you don’t think so.

Your cheeks feel warm at this question. The answer is obviously no, but if he would’ve asked if you wanted to sleep together, well…

“No,” Fuma answers. You’re grateful that he seems to be taking the lead here. You’re feeling a combination of arousal and nerves that’s making it hard to think straight.

“I was being a gentleman. She only just escaped me.”

Your mouth goes dry at those words. What the fuck does that mean?

Did he want you just as badly? Was he restraining himself for your benefit? Why is that so hot? Why is that so fucking frustrating? ‘Escaped?’ What was he going to do to you on your next date? Is the offer still on the table? 

Shut up, y/n. It doesn’t matter.

K sputters out yet another laugh, this one born of disbelief.

“Maybe that’s where you went wrong, dude. I didn’t do that and here we are.”

Your jaw literally drops and K sees it in his peripheral vision.

“Fuck, y/n. I didn’t mean anything by that. You know that, right? I was just messing around.”

Really, you’re not mad. He’s right. Back then, you were desperate for Fuma to stop being such a gentleman. If only he was as good at reading you as K seems to be.

“I know, I know. Don’t worry. I’m not upset.” You smile at him, your fingers playing with his as they drape over your shoulder.

“Is he right?”

Your eyes widen. You look at Fuma. He doesn’t seem to be joking.

“What?” 

“Is he right?” Fuma repeats. “Should I have been less of a gentleman?”

What do you even say right now? Answering that would feel like disrespecting K in front of his face. You look at him for guidance, your eyes screaming help. Tell your friend to chill out. Tell him it’s none of his business. Tell him it doesn’t matter now.

K gestures towards Fuma with his free hand, giving you a single nod as if to say go ahead, answer him.

“Uh, I–” You’re struggling to put together a response that’s somehow honest but respectful but clear at the same time.

“Yeah. Kinda. I guess.”

God, you sound like such a dumbass, don’t you? You were going for nonchalant, noncommittal. Instead, you sound like a blubbering idiot.

They both laugh. You don’t know what reaction you were expecting, but you weren’t expecting them to laugh.

“Dude, she was waiting for you to make a move. You’re such an idiot!” 

“Excuse me for trying to be respectful.”

“Respectful? Respect her wishes!”

“Okay, okay. Yeah. I dropped the ball.”

“BIG time.”

You’re listening to them go back and forth, feeling like you’re in the twilight zone. This is all so bizarre.

“Fuck, dude. You really missed out.”

You bite into your bottom lip at K’s words. Other women in your shoes might feel offended by the two of them talking like this, but you’re not those women.

You feel fucking powerful. 

Two of the hottest, most interesting men in the world talking about how much they want you? How good it is to have you like that?

Fucking yum.

K is gazing at you, his eyes showing you that he’s replaying every time you’ve slept together in his head. He takes your jaw lightly in his hand, brushing his thumb over it as he gives you a sneak peek at the inner desires of his mind, his eyes holding yours hostage. “She’s fucking incredible.”

You shift on your feet, feeling that familiar stick between your thighs. 

Fuma hums. “I bet she is.”

A grin forms on K’s face–proud, cocky.

He lifts your gaze further, his hand tilting your jaw up–more of a show that you’ll let him handle you than anything else. “Tell me, y/n. Do you wish you would’ve slept together?”

“K–”

“Just tell me the truth, pretty. I won’t be mad.”

A moment of silence. 

Then two. 

Then three.

“I–yeah.”

God, you feel like you could fall off the face of the earth right now.

K hums this time, a small smirk twitching at the corner of his lips. You’re not sure if he’s pleased by your honesty or pleased by the answer itself. You don’t dare look at Fuma. 

“Good, baby. I appreciate your honesty.” He leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, his hand never releasing its hold on your jaw.

He gives a sidelong glance to Fuma and looks back at you.

“Would you want to… now? If I brought him back to my place with us?”

Fucking what?!

Sensing your confusion in the slackening of your jaw and the way your eyes round, K chuckles softly and elaborates. “I’m not trying to trick you.” His hand moves from your jaw to card through your hair, surely trying to relax you. “It seems like you two have… unfinished business.” A playful smile. “I don’t mind letting him see what he’s been missing–what I get to have.”

You must be dreaming. No, you’re just full-on hallucinating at this point.

“That is, if you want to. And if he wants to… but I know the fucker. He wants to.”

K glances towards Fuma and raises his brow, proving how well he knows him when Fuma rolls his eyes but nods his head.

This is what wet dreams are made of.

You exhale a shaky breath, not realizing you were holding one. “K, I don’t think–”

“Don’t think. Don’t use your head, baby. Do you want it?” K’s fingers glide over your scalp and down the back of your neck, your head instinctively tilting up to him, baring yourself to him. “Yes or no? Quick.”

“Yes.”

“There we are.”

K’s lips find yours again, this time kissing you properly. You sigh into his mouth as he tilts his head, feeling like you’re so deeply embedded in a fantasy world you never want to return from. You risk opening your eyes to peek at Fuma who is not-so-secretly using this moment to ogle your body. Fuck, you love how it feels when he looks at you like that. You lock eyes for a moment and he winks at you.

How does he still look so casual? Does nothing get under his skin?

K gently tugs on your bottom lip as he breaks the kiss, giving you one last reassuring peck before standing up straight again. 

“Alright, well, that settles it.”

You and Fuma are both just standing there, letting K dictate every move. You get the feeling that Fuma isn’t usually one to let anyone else run the show, but he’s smart enough to play his cards right when presented with an opportunity this good.

“Fuma, keys.” K holds up his hand, waiting for Fuma to toss them. Fuma doesn’t toss them right away, needing an explanation. With a lighthearted scoff, K grins. “You’re going to sit in the back with y/n. It’s probably best for you two to… warm up… to each other, don’t you think?”

Your heart is in your ass. You really need someone to pinch you.

Without a word, Fuma tosses K his keys.

K’s hand slides down your forearm, lacing his fingers through yours. “Let me know if you get uncomfortable at any point, okay?” He murmurs, giving your hand a squeeze. When you nod, he opens the back door of Fuma’s car, helping you in, making sure you sit in the middle seat. He kisses your forehead again and gives your thigh a squeeze just below your skirt before retreating to the sidewalk.

You hear K talking to Fuma, but you can’t quite make out what they’re saying–partially because you can’t hear with all the noise outside and partially because your heart is racing in your ears. None of this feels real. You’re in an unfamiliar car–the car that belongs to a man you used to date–and you’re about to be on your way to your current boyfriend(?)’s apartment so you can presumably fuck them both. Reality could never be this good.

You have to glance at yourself in the rearview mirror to assure yourself this is real, but you don’t believe yourself.

The light in the car shifts, alerting you to Fuma sliding into the backseat next to you. He’s already focused on you when K shuts the door behind him, his eyes on yours. You stare at each other, seemingly accepting this reality at the same time, only breaking eye contact when the driver’s door closes in front of you.

You both look up, meeting K’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He’s smiling in a cheeky way that makes you want to both smack and kiss him.

“Pretend I’m not here,” he says, waving his hand. “Well… don’t. But do. You know what I mean.”

K’s easygoing attitude is really helping to loosen some of the knots in your belly, though they’re only replaced with more knots–anticipatory knots. You’ll take those, though. 

You welcome those.

Fuma takes the request at face value, moving closer to you in small scoots until his thick thigh is pressed against the outer side of yours. Your stomach does a little flip that you hope Fuma doesn’t pick up on.

“Is this okay?” He asks, moving your hair behind your shoulder closest to him with a sweep of his finger.

You nod, you smile. Fuma smiles.

“That’s good,” he rumbles, dipping his head down to press a soft kiss to your jaw just in front of your ear. “You look gorgeous tonight, y/n.”

“T-thank you,” you stutter out, goosebumps spreading over your body at his nearness.

“Mm,” he hums in response. “Can you look at me?”

You turn your head slowly, thrilled but nervous. Fuma’s gaze settles on your lips, tracing them. He lifts his gaze back to yours and leans in, slotting his lips with yours as his hand finds its way to your waist.

Okay, so we’re not wasting any time with pleasantries. That’s fine. The two of you wasted more than enough time those months ago.

You melt into Fuma’s kiss, your hand catching the front of his shirt at his chest. He kisses you slow for minutes, you’re sure, never once using his tongue. His hand kneads down your waist to your hip, gripping. Your mouth parts in a silent gasp, effectively breaking the kiss.

Fuma chuckles, giving your hip a squeeze. “It’s that easy, huh?”

You should be fucking mortified but instead you’re wet. Soaking wet.

Fuma’s eyes drag down your body, removing his hand from you so there’s no buffer for his line of sight. Once he reaches your feet, they make their way back up, his hand sliding onto the top of your thigh. He rubs your knee for a fleeting moment before wrapping his hand over you, his fingertips resting on the inside of your lower thigh. He catches your gaze with his own, seeking out your reaction.

He only finds a spark of anticipation in your eyes, much to his delight.

Fuma leans in towards you again, this time hovering his lips near your ear. “You like that, right?” He’s asking but he already knows the answer. The way your skin jumps under his palm would give you away even if you tried to lie. He slides his hand up a smidge, continuing to speak directly into your ear. “You wanted me to touch you like this all those times, didn’t you? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Your face feels like it’s on fire at the question. You didn’t expect him to put you on the spot. 

“I just– I–”

“You just what, baby?” He’s both tender and provocative. His hand slides up further, dragging the hem of your skirt along with it.

“I guess I… I wanted you to want me so badly that you couldn’t help yourself.” Your eyes widen as the words come out of your mouth. You can’t believe you were so honest. You hadn’t intended to be.

True to character, Fuma doesn’t flinch at the blurted confession. He chuckles, his hand stopping its movement up your thigh to grip it, gently pulling it away from the other. Spreading you.

“If only you knew, y/n.”

You’re about to pass out. Your heart is beating out of your chest and you feel so drunk-dizzy and you haven’t gotten close to having everything you want tonight.

Luckily, K comes to your rescue. The sound of his voice is almost sobering but not quite. You had forgotten he was even there. It kinda makes you feel like shit but you kinda don’t care too much about being a decent person right now.

“What color panties is she wearing for us today?” is what K says.

You glare at K through the rearview mirror as if he didn’t just make your pussy flutter with excitement. He’s smug.

“Let’s see.” Fuma is speaking loud enough for K to hear now.

Fuma’s hand slides the rest of the way up your thigh, pooling your skirt at your waist. Your fingers curl into the backseat as you experience embarrassment laced with an addictive sensation you can’t quite put your finger on. Your spread thighs do nothing to hide your panties from either man.

“Looks like blue,” Fuma states much too matter-of-factly. His voice drops when he adds, “See through little things. You should see the wet spot on her.” He brushes said spot with the back of his knuckles, barely grazing.

You’re horrified when a needy moan immediately slips out of your mouth like it was just waiting to be released.

K tsks but he’s licking his lips in the rearview mirror. Fuma is smirking, spreading your thighs wider. 

“You really can’t wait, can you?” He teases, pulling your closest leg over his own. He rests his palm on your inner thigh, rubbing it up and down, getting within millimeters of your dampened panties but never touching that little spot again. You exhale a frustrated breath, your back arching slightly as you fight the urge to lift your hips and press against his hand yourself.

“Fuck, I love when she gets like that,” K rasps from up front.

“It’s cute,” Fuma agrees.

You take a deep breath, leaning your head back against the seat as you close your eyes. It’s too soon to be acting like a cat in heat. Even if that’s what you feel like right now.

Taking pity on you, Fuma gives you a little something to get you by. You feel him take your hand and place it over the crotch of his pants. You can tell that’s where you are by the cold metal of his zipper. Your fingers instinctively curl, a small hiss of delight leaving you when you feel that he’s hard beneath the fabric. He guides your hand, encouraging you to rub him, to feel what will soon be yours.

“Soon, pretty,” with a nip at your earlobe.

“Sooner than you think,” K adds.

You open your eyes to investigate K’s words, relieved when you see K pulling into the parking garage of his apartment complex. You laugh breathlessly, the delicious absurdity of the situation making you feel weightless.

K parks the car and gets out to open the back door for you. Fuma fixes your skirt and K offers you his hand, pulling you to meet him for a brief kiss before closing the door. He looks at you for a second, checking to make sure you’re still okay, and nods, placing your hand in Fuma’s when he makes his way around. K falls back, letting Fuma lead you ahead of him, watching.

Like everything else, it feels bizarre to have K just watch you be with another man, but like everything else, you like it. A lot.

K only moves ahead of you to unlock the door to his place.

K steps aside to let you inside first, Fuma leading you directly to K’s sectional. You can tell by the way he moves that he’s been here many times before and that makes your stomach twist excitedly. You never knew all the times you spent the night and the morning with K that the hypnotic man that escaped you had been here too. You’re surprised you couldn’t smell him–that’s how much you wanted him. How much you still want him.

Fuma doesn’t let go of your hand until he reaches the couch, turning to face you. Your heart freezes in your chest. He gives you a small smile and holds eye contact with you as he takes a seat in the middle of the couch. His hands find the backs of your thighs and gently pull forward until you’re straddling him, your hands on his shoulders with a soft oof. 

Fuma’s hands slide up the back of your thighs beneath your skirt, fingers playing with the hem of your panties. “Did you wear pretty panties like this for me?” He whispers the question against your lips but never kisses them.

You nod. You feel the couch sink next to you and glance over to see K watching you two. He’s enjoying this–flaunting you to Fuma.

Fuma’s hands work themselves underneath your panties, taking each cheek in a sandy palm. “Such a pretty fucking thing,” he mumbles against your ear as your gaze is still locked on K. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you’d swear K can tell by the way he smirks at you.

Surely he just knows what gets to you.

You reach for K’s crotch, index finger and thumb pulling at his zipper. You’re so fucking grateful for him right now. You can’t make him feel left out.

K lifts a brow and grins, taking it upon himself to finish opening up his pants.

“This what you want, baby?” He asks, fishing his cock out of boxers, stroking it as he watches your pupils dilate.

Yes. No. I want it inside of me. But yes. Fuck, yes.

You’re nodding but before you can answer him properly, Fuma is turning your cheek with his hand, devouring your lips the moment they reach his. You moan into his mouth, your hips involuntarily rocking against his lap, seeking something, anything to relieve your aching need. Fuma echoes your moan with a groan of his own, his hands settling on your hips to guide you–back and forth in his lap, back and forth against the throbbing erection in his pants.

“Lay over my lap, gorgeous.” A simple order from Fuma as his lips break from yours.

You do as you’re told, sliding off of Fuma’s lap onto the couch beside him. You get on your knees first and stretch yourself out, draping your body across his thighs, your cheek resting on K’s knee.

“Listening so well tonight, aren’t you, baby?” K praises, petting your hair affectionately.

“Yeah,” you say. “You’re so good to me,” you say.

K’s eyes sparkle at you in a similar way as when you exited the cinema earlier, but the mood feels much heavier with his hand stroking his cock in your face.

The good kind of heavy, of course.

Intense is probably the right word.

Fuma’s hands are readily exploring your lower body–wandering over the backs of your legs, pushing your skirt up to your waist, dipping between your soft thighs to rub the wet spot on your panties.

“A–aah,” you gasp.

Both men are chuckling, sharing a look with each other before training their attention back on you.

“So cute when you’re all sensitive,” K coos.

“So. Fucking. Tempting.” Fuma echoes, fingers prying your panties aside. His fingers make direct contact with your slippery core, hissing when his fingertip prods at your entrance only to find out that he could easily slip it inside you right now without any resistance. “Y/n, fuck. If you want something, you better tell me. You remember what happens when you keep it to yourself.”

Not. Fucking. Ever. Again.

You take a deep breath as you look at Fuma, finding it hard to regulate such a natural bodily function when your body only seems to care about being filled. Your hand reaches back, circling Fuma’s wrist as his pads continue to skate through your glossy folds. “I want your fingers in me,” you tell him with heated cheeks. “Wanna finally know what it feels like.”

“That’s a good girl,” Fuma rumbles, instantly rewarding your obedience with his middle finger, your walls gripping the single digit.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out, your eyelids fluttering. You don’t know if it’s the physical sensation or the idea of Fuma’s fingers being inside of you that you like more.

“She loves being fingered. Gets my wrist fucking soaked,” K volunteers. 

Your pussy clenches again and Fuma clicks his tongue.

“Seems she also loves it when you talk about her like that.” Fuma inserts a second finger easily, his free hand moving under the front of your body and pushing up until you arch yourself for him. His fingers are pumping rhythmically inside you, occasionally but irregularly curling inside you so you’re never prepared for the extra bit of ecstasy. “You like having two men throbbing over you, don’t you?”

You nod eagerly, your mouth hanging open as you push back against Fuma’s fingers, fucking yourself on them as much as he’s fucking you with them.

K takes notice of your open mouth and takes hold of your face, tracing your lips with his thumb. He dips it inside, watching as you immediately close your lips around it, suckling. Just like he thought.

“I’ve got a good use for that open mouth, pretty.”

K’s hand pulls you forward, eyes silently telling you exactly what he wants, not that you had any questions. His hand is brushing your hair out of your face as you lower your head and snake your tongue out to taste the head of his cock. His hips buck at first contact and you moan, salivating over how sensitive he seems to be over all of this too.

You take K’s cock in your mouth, determined to make him feel better than ever for letting you have this night. This experience. You fight like hell to keep your focus on tonguing and sucking and swallowing his cock despite the way you’re trembling in Fuma’s lap, the wet sounds of his fingers plunging into you filling the small space the three of you share. 

It’s impossible, but fuck if you’re not trying.

You watch through watery, dreamy eyes as K’s head falls back against the couch, lids low as he watches you in awe. You’re trying so hard to not be overwhelmed by your own pleasure that you don’t even notice when Fuma starts moving–not really. You knew your body was being moved but you didn’t really know what was happening.

You feel Fuma’s hand travel up your spine, palming the back of your neck. “You feel that, y/n?” He asks, rubbing what you can only imagine is the head of his cock against the soaked through fabric of your panties. You moan around K’s cock, nails curling into the top of K’s thigh. Fuma laughs and your panties are rolling down your legs. 

“Tell me you want me to fuck you, y/n,” Fuma says, the head of his cock pushing against your entrance without ever breaching it. “If you tell me, you can have it. I know how much you want it.”

You whine around K’s cock, feeling impatient and a little frustrated that Fuma isn’t already inside you. You pull off of K, panting and licking your lips to compose yourself just enough to speak.

“Fuma, please don’t tease me,” you whine, purposefully poutier than you’d usually be. One thing you know from dating Fuma is that he can’t find it in himself to deny you anything. Your hand is pumping K, never allowing him to be forgotten. He thrusts up into your palm, his quiet grunting background noise to the back and forth between you and Fuma. “Please fuck me. Please. I want it. Want you inside me.”

“How could I ever say no when you sound so sweet begging me for it?” Fuma teases and praises, dragging his cockhead up and down your slit a few more times. “I’d give you anything your little heart desires.” Fuma pushes himself inside you, slowly inching himself inside to allow you to accommodate him, though it’s not difficult when you’re already dripping buckets onto the couch. He’s groaning the whole way through, his hands digging into your hips harshly for restraint.

“Fuck, she feels so good. You lucky son of a bitch.”

K laughs, tightening your hand around his cock as he fucks into it more aggressively at Fuma’s words. “Yeah, you’re a real fucking idiot for fumbling her.” 

Fuma starts with slow thrusts, testing your limits surely, wanting to get a feel for what you’re willing to take. K’s hand guides your drooping head up to look at him, thumb brushing your cheek soothingly. “Can I have that pretty mouth back, baby?”

Of course. Anything for you. Are you kidding?

Instead of answering in a slur like you know would happen, you lean forward again, taking K’s cock back into your mouth. You suckle on the tip, drag your tongue along the sides, push him further down your throat than you can stand. His hands comb through your hair, massage your jaw, wipe at the saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth. He’s cursing and moaning and telling you how you couldn’t be more fucking perfect for him.

All while another man is fucking you.

His friend, to be clear.

Fuma’s thrusts are calculated and deep, finding that spot inside you as if he’s visited it a million times before. He’s rough but in a way that says I know you can handle this. He’s fast now. He’s driving himself into you with such ferocity that you’ve barely recovered from the last thrust before he’s overwhelming you with the next.

He’s reducing you to a moaning, shaking mess, that’s what he is. He’s about to make you come, that’s what he is.

K notices you struggling to blow him, noting the all too familiar signs of your approaching orgasm. “It’s okay, baby. Don’t worry about me. I’ll have my turn.” He pulls your face up and leans down to meet it, silencing a strangled moan with a kiss. He falls back against the couch again, taking over the job of tending to his cock–stroking it as he watches the sight unfolding before him.

Fuma leans over your back, his hand wrapping around your throat. He holds you up against his chest, sharp thrusts punctuating his words spoken low against your ear. “You take it so well, y/n. I can feel the way you’re squeezing me. You want to come for me, don’t you? In front of your boyfriend, right? That gets you off, right?”

You’re glitching at this point, your mind breaking euphorically. You’re nodding as much as you can with Fuma having you in his hold so securely, moaning and panting and whimpering. The three of you are all watching each other, though you are clearly the star of the show. “S-so good,” you stutter. “Feels s’good.”

Fuma hums his approval in your ear, his thrusts reaching a point of punishing. “You feel so good around me, baby,” he says, his breath heavy. You can tell he’s close too by the way his thrusts lose some of their control, getting sloppier as he chases that feeling of release. “Gonna come inside your pretty pussy, baby,” he says.

And to be honest, that’s all it takes.

You’ve been dreaming about the day Fuma does exactly like that. So who could blame you when the words alone send you over the edge–send you reaching for K’s hand for stability as you come on Fuma’s cock?

Your orgasm blacks out your vision and you squeeze K’s hand for grounding. He squeezes back and you can hear Fuma losing control behind you, managing a handful more thrusts before his own body stutters, his own orgasm coloring your insides.

He keeps thrusting as you both try to clear your hazy heads, slowing his hips and focusing on decorating your neck with kisses much softer than the way he fucked you.

“That’s my pretty girl,” K muses, lovingly tracing your cheek with his fingers. His other hand is still stroking his cock but slower now, despite its pulsing need. You nuzzle against his hand and he coos, his eyes softening despite their hunger.

“Fuma?” K calls.

“Mm?” Fuma answers.

“Sit her on my cock.”

Now when they talk about you like you’re not here, it feels like they’re doing it because they know you can’t speak for yourself. Not at the moment. Not when they’ve gotten you this cockdrunk.

You let Fuma gather your body in his strong arms, getting only a little bashful because you can feel the mess between your thighs all too clearly when you’re not plugged up by his cock. He kisses the side of your head  as he lifts you, passing you off into K’s waiting, outstretched arms.

K settles you on his lap, whispering words of encouragement and praise into your ear as he plugs the hole Fuma occupied only moments ago. So good for us. So fucking pretty like this. Feels good not having a single thought in your pretty head, mm? My pretty girl deserves another orgasm, doesn’t she?

You feel like jelly in K’s lap, trusting the two beautiful men surrounding you to take care of your and your body. Everything feels so good right now. Everything feels like too much right now. You never want it to end. 

You whimper as you lean your head back against K’s chest, grinding your hips in a desperate effort to take his cock properly. He tsks, one hand holding your hip in place. “No, baby. Let me. Just sit there and feel good for me, okay?” 

K motions for Fuma to kneel on the ground in front of you with a wave of his hand and you might be surprised when Fuma follows his lead if you were capable of using your brain at the minute.

He really wants to take care of me, you’d think. My pleasure is important to him, you’d be delighted to know.

As Fuma makes himself comfortable on the ground between your spread thighs, K is pumping himself up into you. “Did you miss my cock, baby?” He’s asking, not expecting an answer. Already knowing the answer. His hands are pushing your top up above your breasts, groping them and tweaking your nipples between his fingers. 

“Look at her. She’s fantastic,” K tells Fuma. “Cant believe you fucked her before you even got to see these.” 

K must mouth something to Fuma because he goes from looking over your shoulder to rubbing your clit, watching as K’s cock enters you over and over.

You’re so sensitive right now and every single thing they say and do is making it worse. You’re whining but you’re not sure for what anymore. You don’t want it to stop. You want more. It’s already overstimulating. You don’t want it to stop. “K, please,” you manage.

“Please what, baby?” He asks, nuzzling his nose against your jaw. His thrusts pick up in speed and intensity–he knows exactly what. “You want to come again, baby? Is that it?”

Fuma starts to wiggle his thumb on your clit in tighter, quicker circles at the mere mention of you wanting an orgasm and you squirm on K’s lap, moans pitching up to pathetic levels.

“It’s okay, baby. You can come for me.” K soothes, one hand still fondling your breast as the other holds your hip for leverage, pounding into you from beneath. His own breathing is ragged and you know he’s close too.

Frankly, he’s been dying to come inside you since he was in your mouth.

“K-K–” You whisper, eyebrows knit in the middle. It’s a feeble attempt at expressing just how good you feel right now. How he’s everything you could have ever wanted and he feels perfect inside you and you’re going to come.

And you do.

Fuma doesn’t stop rubbing your clit as you come, pressing down firmly when he sees it happening, jumping at the chance to add to your pleasure. He’s watching you like you’re a once in a lifetime experience, making soft sounds of wonder as you writhe in K’s lap, body spasming from all the stimulation. If you were seeing black earlier, you’re seeing white now.

“S-shit,” K stutters, taking both hips in his hands as he holds you down on him, not letting you escape as he deposits white ropes inside you.

This time, everyone stops. Catching their breath. Processing what has happened. Replaying it over in their minds already.

Then, everyone starts laughing.

It’s just half hearted chuckles, the ones that happen when reality is stronger than lust.

It’s nice.

You’re limp on K’s lap, his chest to your back. Fuma is sitting on the floor between your thighs, his hands lightly holding your calves as a way to keep some sort of contact without you reading it as sexual in nature. Everyone is sweaty. Everyone is smiling. Everyone got to come.

Some of you got to come twice.

“Was that… was that crazy?” You finally break the silence. You feel responsible for what happened here even though it wasn’t your idea. It wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for you.

“Yeah, probably,” Fuma says.

“No, definitely,” K says, still laughing.

K wraps his arms around your middle and rests his head on your shoulder. “But it was fun, wasn’t it?”

Fuma nods.

“Yeah,” you say. “Fun and fucking insane.”

[yuurei20]

Received a request for more information about personal pronouns! (Thank you very much to @/irafuwas for help with this post! ♡)

Personal Pronouns in Twst (1/3): Ore

Foreword: Pronouns can vary by person depending on age, gender and context, but they also vary based on personal preference and how a person wishes to present themselves! In casual situations there is not really such a thing as using the “wrong” personal pronoun. Outside of those situations it is all about being polite!

Q: Someone’s preferred personal pronoun can be interpreted as “rude” by unrelated third parties?

A: Yes! For example:

Ore: Used by Trey, Cater, Floyd, Ace, Kalim, Deuce (sometimes), Jamil, General Lilia, Leona, Silver, Ruggie, Jack, Epel (sometimes).

The vibes of pronouns change drastically depending upon whether or not you are in a casual situation:

School/Work/New People/Anywhere That Isn’t a Casual Situation with Close Friends

“Ore” is not a personal pronoun that one should use outside of very casual situations, such as when you are around friends or family, or it can be perceived as sounding haughty.

It can be described as a more “masculine” pronoun, but you can also say that it is just more casual!

Women can (and do!) use this pronoun and it does not mean that they identify as male—language is not black and white! It can even vary by region: the graph above shows how it is common for men and women equally to use “ore” in places like Akita, Iwate, Nara, etc., for example.

So does someone using “ore” with you mean that they’re looking down on you? 

That depends on context! 

If you are meeting for the first time, you do not want to use ore or you might put across that vibe. It is also rude to say it to people like teachers at school, bosses/customers at work, etc.

Casual Situations

If you are close friends or family members with a person, then it will not be unusual to hear “ore”!

Deuce, for example, uses “Boku” when he is around upperclassmen, but will use “Ore” when he is alone with Ace.

I prefer to avoid Wikipedia, but I liked this graph very much:

It shows percentages of university-age men using “ore” with their friends, switching to “watashi” in class, and to “boku” when speaking with someone they do not know.

(This information is, however, from nearly 20 years ago, and language is always evolving. Just like speakers of English do not talk the same now as they did in 2009, the same is true in Japan!)

It is not uncommon for men to decide they do not like the sound of “ore” and go with “boku” or “watashi” instead, or maybe they don’t like “boku” either and “watashi” is too formal for friends, so they go with “jibun,” etc. Casual situations are flexible!

Personal Anecdote: At my previous job I would often visit a senpai who worked the front desk downstairs, and he would rotate through three different pronouns depending who he was talking to: Watashi for customers, Boku for coworkers, and Ore for when his friends came to visit. And this was how I learned that he and our newest hire had started dating in secret: one day he accidentally used “Ore” with her instead of his usual “Boku.” After they realized that I knew, they would use casual pronouns/speech patterns with each other in front of me, but whenever someone else came in the room they would switch to senpai/kouhai speech. Drama drama~

Written Language

In the case of Twst, we have additional personalization taking place: while Trey, Deuce, Epel, Jamil, General Lilia, Leona, Silver and Jack use “Ore” in kanji, Cater, Floyd, Ace, Kalim, and Ruggie use it in katakana.

This is a stylistic choice to reflect the different personalities!

Kanji can be used to make something seem more serious/mature/traditional (re: Trey/Jamil/Silver) or confident/assertive (re: Deuce/Epel/General Lilia/Leona/Jack).

Katakana is being used to add personal flair to reflect the characters who are more laid back and emphasize differences in attitude. Both Leona and Kalim say “Ore,” for example, and while it is technically the same word, the atmosphere/tone between the two could not be more different!

(To be continued!)

[pokespe-rainbow]

Any Tmnt Iteration x Spider-Man!Reader: First meeting

Part 2 , Part 3

You hold the proud title of New York one and only superhero. It's probably been months since that weird spider bite you, and that incident with your uncle's demise probably let you scarred for life, but that's not what we're gonna talk today! Can we please let your dead uncle out of this? Yeah? Thank you!

You've done a lot of things for this city, seriously, from a crazy guy with robotic wings to an electricist that controls electricity. Pretty ironic doesn't? Of course, no version of Spider-Man could be Spiderman if the media didn't drag your reputation through the mud. You can thank that to your boss, Burne Thompson. You almost regret coming to him when selling pictures of yourself, but you were desperate. If it helps your aunt to get to the end of the month, you could take a little of public humiliation. At least one of your coworkers, April O'Neil, is nice enough and always talks good from your alter ego when she's on the scene. In fact, the number of times you've rescued her is enough to tag her of your Lois Lane or your Vicky Vale. She's pretty, but you're not interested!

It was just another normal night, doing your spider things and taking yourself selfies, until your Spidey Sense started buzzing and telling you danger approaches. You keep your camera in their place with one of your webs before waiting for action.

You didn't expect to find an oversized turtle in a skateboard just goofing around. Okay, it's New York, weird shit happens all the time. The Turtle had an orange bandana and a pair of nunchakus on their belt. Oh! And they're naked! Well, turtles didn't have the same genitalia mammals had. In none of your Animal Planet you never saw a crocodile's junk— No Spidey! Bad Spidey! Your Spidey Sense never gets wrong! And if your Spider sense says this Turtle is dangerous, then some truth must be!

"That's some pair of good tricks over there" - you say casually as the Turtle frozes and start looking around - "Up here buddy, on the side of the building."

The Turtle's eyes are surprisingly... Human. Of a pretty baby blue color. Squared head and two holes instead of a nose. You think you could actually freak out if there was an actual human nose there.

"Holy sh—!" - comes out a very human and childish voice. He sounds pretty much like someone your age should sound - "[S/n]! I'm sorry! I promise I didn't do anything illegal! Just don't take me to jail!" - he frenetically screams

"Woah woah, easy buddy " - you put your hands in the air as a sign peace - "I'm not going to do anything as long you didn't do anything, okay? You just don't see a giant turtle every night! A giant lizard? Maybe. I was just curious. You don't plan to do anything in this neighborhood?" - you do you best to out your vest Batman voice

"No Sir/Ma'am No!" - The Turtle stand up straight

"No taking over the city plans I should worry about?" - you ask again

"I promise! I'm a good guy!"

"Very well" - you stayed silent for a couple of seconds before changing the mood - "I believe you!"

The Turtle stays still before looking at you - "You do?"

"Yes"

"You're not gonna run screaming or anything?" - ask the Turtle

"My dude, or dudette or non binary buddy, is that's your wave. This is New York. If you can't stand a pair of wierd shit like giant animals then you're a pussy and you should move out because you're not a yanqui if you're not used to"

"Oooohhh" - the Turtle seems to realize - "Thanks... That's... That was nice, you're the first person that doesn't run away screaming"

"And you're the first person, excuse me, reptile that doesn't try to kill me on the spot. I should be thanking you" - you said as you decide this little fella over there is going to become your favorite person in New York at this point as you jump and land next to him... Her.. They? - "Do you have any name I can call you?"

"Sure! Name's Michelangelo! But my brother's call me Mikey!" - answers the Turtle

"As the artist? You know? The one with the naked statues?"

"Exactly!" - Mikey says before laughing - "Oh, I'm so gonna use that with my brothers!"

Curiosity spikes you. He already mentioned his brothers twice. As much as you like to ask if they're turtles as well you decide to keep your questions for yourself. You don't know how he ended up as a giant turtle, but the world weren't as gentle with the ones that were different.

"Really, wait to you hear this one—" - you were about to drop some lame joke before you could heard police sirens on the distance - "Shoot. Duty calls" - You turn to look at Michelangelo - "Sorry, but I gotta go"

"Sure! Go kick some bad guys ass!" - cheered Michelangelo - "I can't wait to rub I meet [S/n] on Donnie's face!"

"Oh really?" - you rise an eyebrow behind your mask - "Can you tell me tomorrow how it go?"

"Really dude/dudette?" - asked Michelangelo, you could see the starry look in his eyes

"Yeah! Same hour, same place!" - you say as you prepare to swing away - "And don't talk to stangers in alleys!"

"I Won't!" - you heard him answer as you swing away

New York. The city a Turtle and a Spider could get along...

[neysaadept]

Prometheus Chapter 12

Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader

Chapter 12 - Let's Chat

Tags: Swearing, canon typical violence, therapy, mentions of sexual assault, murder, torture, strangulation. No beta reader, mistakes are all me. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 6.6k

AO3

“I think this is the first time you had a good excuse for missing a session that wasn’t entirely work related.”

You laugh as your therapist scribbles information on the notepad resting on her thighs. She was sitting on the white chair across from your position on the couch in your apartment. Brian really called out all the stops in making this happen.

You have been seeing Nina Davis for the last four years as part of mandatory therapy because of your unique situation in joining the CIA. Whenever you were stateside, you had to see her and thanks to Rebecca Wilson, you get to see her for six months instead of a couple sessions snuck in before you were deployed once more. The CIA always wanted to get you back working in the field as soon as you were debriefed and cleared.

Nina was a thin woman with well-manicured nails, you couldn’t remember a time they weren’t perfectly filed and polished. Often, they were clear coated but depending on the season or holiday, she dazzled with some color. Like now her nails are colored burgundy that compliment her rust color sweater. Since it was Sunday, she has on jeans and tennis shoes which was about as casual as Nina got. In her office, it was always business casual. You noticed it was only in the last year and a half Nina’s straight blonde hair was paling as she pushed fifty. It was still a lovely shade that made her just as beautiful as it frames her face and slides across her shoulders as she moves.

It makes your thoughts shift to how Emily’s hair does the same but since hers was longer, it cascaded so smoothly like water. You wonder how it would feel to run your hands through it …

Then you hear your name being spoken with increasing urgency to get your attention. You look at Nina apologetically. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“Where did you go just now?” she asks in that annoyingly knowing therapeutic curiosity.

“Thinking about work.” She doesn’t buy it and raises a brow to have you elaborate further. “Fine. A co-worker.”

“Are you getting along well with them? You mentioned that Prentiss was causing you problems that first week.”

You shrug, not realizing that what you thought was a simple relieved smile was broad and bright. “Yeah, things are much better. We talked it out and came to a mutual understanding.”

Nina squints wisely. “You have a new friend.”

Damn she’s still good at this shit, you think.

“I wouldn’t call us friends. Not sure people like us define our …” you struggle to find the right words for you and Emily as your curling fingers circle one another in front of you as if trying to grab onto the right words. You’re coworkers for sure. And she has gone out of her way to make you be social with the BAU. You have a lot in common but enough differences to keep each other on a playful edge. The woman knew how to make you feel safe around her and not be on guard.

“ … uh, I guess we’re a budding friendship?” You wince. “That sounds lame.”

“It’s not lame at all.” You smile. “It’s difficult for you to connect with new people so this is really nice to hear.”

“Yeah. The BAU has been really cool. I even got a desk and everything,” you admit fondly.

“Good. You’re integrating well.” She scribbles more notes down. “Any issues come up with your past?”

You think back to a few gaffs with Prentiss, but it works out now that she has clearance. “I did let it slip that Rebecca bailed me out of the AWOL situation without specifics. Brian doesn’t know …” you say warily.

Nina chuckles. “Not the first time you’ve told me this, and he doesn’t have to know now. He gave the section chief some leeway in your background. So, this shouldn’t be a problem.” She looks up at you. “Does she know anything else?”

“That I’m a spy. She was one, too.”

“Common ground is nice. Anything else?” She senses you’re hiding something and pushes gently.

You look away with your tongue firmly pressing against the back of your teeth. Your knee starts bouncing frantically. Nina knows the signs of when you are delving deep into your childhood trauma.

“I …” You clear your throat and rest your head against the back of the couch cushions. “The case I worked with Prentiss and Rossi. The unsub was a victim of sexual assault.” Nina is quiet, letting the silence be a sign to continue to share further if you’re comfortable. “The guy she wanted to kill was an unconfirmed rapist in the eyes of the law. But she knew he was guilty and got off on technicalities with a lot of money getting good lawyers. So, despite the fact that I wanted her to slice his throat open and watch the fucker die …” You stop there as your eyes get wet with tears and work your lips as you reach down to find the courage you need continue. “… I shared … I shared that I knew how she felt … as a survivor. Talked her down.”

“That had to be difficult.”

“Yeah, it really fucking was and I feel so guilty about it.”

She says your name softly. “Why is that?”

“Because …” you suddenly lean forward over your legs, your arms bracing you upright while balling your hands into fists. “… I wasn’t honest with her. I couldn’t fucking tell her that I killed my abuser when she never could. It’s fucking bullshit what happened to her. Me. Anyone this happens to. I fucking hate that I had to fucking lie to her so much, but I knew if I said it, she’d snap and try to kill her mark and then she’d be shot to death.”

“You didn’t want her to get hurt. Or die.”

“No!” You shake your head and growl. “She didn’t want to die. She just wanted justice.”

“You’re still trying to reconcile saving her life by lying. You’ve done that numerous times in the past. But this was different.”

“Yes!” You look up with wild eyes. “Of course it was!”

Nina sets her pen down, cradling the notepad as she looks sympathetically at you. “Did you talk to Brian about this?”

“No …”

“How about someone from the Prometheus unit?”

You sigh and lean back. “No.”

“Just me then.”

You twist your lips and sigh again. “No. Well, not exactly.”

“Can you explain further?” she says with gentle caution.

“Well, I didn’t out right say I was feeling guilty, but Emily knows that I killed my abuser. And she’s a profiler. She knows how to add all that shit up to a reasonable conclusion.” You hold your hands up in defeat. “She’s not stupid.”

“You don’t share these things so easily. Or at all.” Her blue eyes are scrutinizing you and you feel exposed. “What’s changed?”

You nervously lick your lips before biting the lower half from spilling how your heart has developed a rather large soft spot for the section chief. After a few beats of uncomfortable silence on your part, not Nina’s, she sits back up and accepts the non-answer. You know she has suspicions. “You don’t have to tell me. But it would be a good idea to revisit this at our next session since you’re going to be with these people for another …” She flips through her notes. “Five months?”

You nod in confirmation.

“Good. Now … let’s shift gears with how you’re handling the Sicarius case.”

Non Boss Chat Created at 1258

Penelope Garcia invited JJ and Tara Lewis to the chat.

Penelope Garica changed their username to Queen Penelope.

Queen Penelope sent at 1301: GUYS EMILY FLAKED OUT ON ASKING WHITLOCK OUT!!!

JJ joins the chat.

JJ sent 1325: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME WHEN?!

Queen Penelope sent 1325: Yesterday. She was all set to do it but then just came back and said she changed her mind.

Queen Penelope sent 1326: I want to know WHY

Queen Penelope changed JJ username to Cheeto Mom.

Cheeto Mom sent 1327: Spill. What exactly happened???

Cheeto Mom sent 1327: And WTF Pen. Really? Cheeto Mom?

Queen Penelope sent 1327: Yes! You are a mom and like Cheetos! So duh, Cheeto Mom!

Tara Lewis joins the chat.

Cheeto Mom sent 1328: Why can’t I be a queen like you?

Queen Penelope changed Cheeto Mom username to Queen Cheeto Mom.

Queen Penelope sent 1329: Better?

Queen Cheeto Mom sent 1331: Very

Tara Lewis sent 1331: What the hell did I just walk in on?

Queen Penelope changes Tara Lewis username to Bisexual Goddess.

Queen Cheeto Mom sent 1332: Emily was going to ask Whitlock out and didn’t!

Bisexual Goddess sent 1332: WHAT

Bisexual Goddess sent 1332: You are all not playing with me right? Also, I approve of the name change.

Queen Penelope sent 1333: We are not! And Yay!

Queen Penelope sent 1333: Our Emily really likes her but I don’t know why she doesn’t want to now.

Queen Cheeto Mom sent 1335: I repeat SPILL.

Queen Cheeto Mom sent 1335: WHAT HAPPENED???

Queen Penelope sent 1340: OK. We were at Quantico yesterday to deal with Spiderboy. When cutie left the lair I asked Emily about the whole into her thing. Cuz HELLO Emily is so loving the attention she was getting from her at Fireside. Emily denied I confirmed and after an amazing pep talk by yours truly she got up to go ask her out. Then when she came back she was all sad and that made me sad and when I asked why she was sad she just said she changed her mind. And when I pressed further, she told me to drop it rather angrily 😭

Bisexual Goddess sent 1350: That’s weird. Even for Emily. Did she say anything about why she changed her mind. Did she even talk to Whitlock?

Queen Penelope sent 1353: No. She didn’t. I got that out of her but nothing else.

Queen Penelope sent 1354: OOOOOOO maybe we can get Rebecca in on this to help!

Bisexual Goddess sent 1355: HELL NO! Were you NOT there on Friday when I said she hates people meddling in her love life? Need to let these two sort it out. Least we know our girl didn’t fuck things up with her mouth.

Queen Cheeto Mom sent 1401: Buuuuuuut … we can at least find out wtf happened with Emily.

Queen Cheeto Mom sent 1402: I’ll talk to Emily and see what happened.

Queen Penelope sent 1403: WHEN

Queen Cheeto Mom sent 1405: At soccer right now.

Bisexual Goddess sent 1406: They winning?

Queen Penelope sent 1406: Is Michael scoring all the goals?

Queen Cheeto Mom sent 1415: Yes and Yes 😊 One time at the wrong goal post LOL

User45125: Same shit on my end. Life. Will life get in the way with you being around?

FlamePit23: I’m not a psychic. But the plan is to be more active. Bunch of idiots on this board need a proper education and happy to enroll them in how to not blow yourself up and die and instead find the rush of fire to cover up all those lies.

User45125: All the lies of the world.

FlamePit23: And humanity.

User45125: Still the same old prophetic sounding girl I know. Good. Had any fun lately?

FlamePit23: Minor annoyances. Don’t want to go too big just yet until I’m ready for the next masterpiece.

User45125: Maybe I can help with that.

FlamePit23: That right? Do tell.

“Haven’t heard from him since,” you explain to Emily in her office. You wanted to make sure to brief her in full then just the quick update by text last night on your personal phone. Emily had turned one of the computer screens so the two of you could view the messages on either side of her desk.

“We need to tread carefully with this.” Emily leans back while running the fingers of one hand over the palm of the other. “After Green, he might sense another mole.”

You nod. “Agreed. I’m optimistic he sees me as the real user. Confirms the user is female like I anticipated, but until we know how he wants to help; we’re in a holding pattern until he explains further.”

“I’ll get Garcia on requisitioning burner phones for your use. If this continues, he’ll want to reach out and talk to you. Someone like this FlamePit23 will want to remain off the grid.”

“Makes sense. We’ll have to see how Pen’s doing with the digital footprints.”

“And you not having one will work in our favor. Soon as he sees your face, he’ll go snooping.” She looks at you and then nods. “Finally, your mysterious past works in our favor.”

You chuckle. “I thought my mysterious past was already working in our favor when I showed up at your door like the CIA leprechaun.”

Emily’s reaction is one sculpted brow raising.

“Uh …” You bring your arms up in a circle. “Stipend. Pot of gold.”

She remains unimpressed.

You lower your arms in a huff. “I didn’t wanna say I was your sugar mama again but …”

“Whitlock!” She growls and throws a pen sideways at you. “That’s not funny!”

You bring your hands up to deflect the pen that ricochets off your palm and to the floor. “Why I said pot of gold!”

“Just … go.” She waves you away. “Out! Go talk to Garcia and get your cover sorted.”

You pivot onto your feet in a flourish that has you standing at attention in the next second. You salute playfully. “Yes, ma’am.” And then before Emily had a chance to throw the piece of paper she was balling up; you make a swift exit.

Emily still chucks it after you, watching it arc in the air before it pitifully hits the floor at the threshold of her office door then rolls to a stop. Her face deeply sets into a frown as she is left wondering why you must remain so fucking adorable. It didn’t make this easier – stepping away because you clearly had no interest in her. Only this Nina that Brian set you up with. And fuck, Emily had been so sure Penelope was right in convincing her to go after you because she had just overheard how you were embarrassed singing in front of her and confirming that she had clearance. It made her feel nervous and excited all at once and it wasn’t a mixture of emotions she would have thought possible to feel for another woman again.

“Hey, Em.” JJ pokes her head through the doorway and looks down at the ball of paper. “Uh, you busy?”

“No, JJ. Come on in.”

She reaches down to pick up the paper. “You sure?” JJ shakes the wad and throws it back to Emily as she stands up to close the door.

Emily catches it with a flinch. “Yes. Why?”

“Whitlock told us a tale of woe of you trying to papercut her to death,” she says with a twinkle in her eye.

“As usual, that woman likes to exaggerate.” She sets the paper aside with more force than intended. “What can I do for you, JJ?”

“Well, I was curious about something.” She doesn’t elaborate further as she sits across from Emily.

Emily’s danger sense starts to go off, and her brown eyes narrow suspiciously. “About what exactly?”

That accusing tone makes JJ sit up straighter and grins knowingly. “About the woman you tried to hit that with when you should be hitting on her.”

“God damn it, Penelope …” Emily complains, lowering her head over the desk as she grips the roots of grey hair with frustration. She should’ve known Penelope would have said something even though she warned her not to. “Who else knows?”

“Just me and Tara.” Something inaudible was heard and JJ leaned in closer. “What was that?”

“I said shoot me.”

“That’s a bit dramatic, even for you Emily.” JJ tightens her lips at seeing her friend so wound up. “I’m just here to understand what happened.”

“You’re here to spy on me and report back.”

“Emily, look …” She stops, disappointed that Emily hasn’t looked up yet. “Hey, I rather I wasn’t talking to your head.

JJ watches as Emily’s shoulders dramatically rise and fall before she looks up and lets her hands fall against the desk. “She had a date.”

That made JJ jerk back in confusion. “Whitlock?” Emily nods. “So, you didn’t ask her out because she had a date? Suppose that doesn’t surprise me. Doesn’t take much for you to run away.”

Emily pushes herself up with an elbow and leans back. “Gee. Thanks, JJ.”

“It’s true! You suck at dating.” Her face drops with gentle sincerity. “And you suck at noticing when people have the hots for you.” She dramatically points to herself with two thumbs. “Case in point.”

She laughs morosely. “Fair. But keep in mind we were in two different places mentally and emotionally when that was happening.”

The back-and-forth affection that went beyond friendship just never connected at the right time for JJ and Emily. They long made peace with that fact years ago that it wasn’t meant to be. JJ moved on with Will and it really saddened her that Emily hadn’t found that special someone yet – which was by design or her friend’s awkwardness, the jury was still out. She knew that Emily wanted all of those things – a partner she could trust and confide in and start a long-term relationship with that meant moving in together and perhaps even marriage. The woman across from her kept self-sabotaging any chance of that from blossoming so far.

“And it doesn’t matter,” Emily states again.

“You need glasses because that girl was all over you on Friday with hands and eyes. Sometimes, those eyes of hers actually found yours when she wasn’t staring at your tits,” JJ teases.

“Then why was she so apologetic about this Nina?” she counters in anger, but it made her feel better that you were staring at her boobs.

“Wow.” JJ is shocked. “You really like her.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She brought her hand up to purposefully cut JJ off. “I mean it. I made my decision, and I stand by it. And I swear that the three of you need to stay out of it. I’m not going after Whitlock since she’s already maybe probably has someone.”

“Bu-“

“I mean it, JJ.” She glares hard at her. “And I don’t want to have this conversation again with any of you. And I fucking swear if Whitlock hears about this …”

“Hey, Em. Come on. We wouldn’t do anything like that to embarrass you. Or her. That’s crossing a line none of us would do.”

Emily seems to be appeased and nods curtly. “Good.”

“But …”

She groans in annoyance but allows JJ to continue.

“… I think it says a lot that you were going to take a chance on her. But making a decision on a partially overheard conversation doesn’t do your profiling skills justice.”

“What are you on about?” she asks, incredulously.

“All I’m saying, Em, is that you are thinking with your emotions and not that beautiful brain of yours. Since when do us profilers make a case based on a half overheard conversation and jump to only one outcome?” Emily looks to JJ as the blonde profiler nods at seeing her friend’s mind start to work. “You need more info.”

That conversation never had a chance to happen, and Emily was left ruminating on JJ’s advice when she sent the team out on a case in Hayden, ID four days later. The city was close to the Washington State border and a twenty-minute drive from Coeur d’Alene, ID. A body of an adult female had been found dumped in the woods with strangulation marks, broken fingers, burn marks, and shot twice in the chest. The victimology matched similar murders near Spokane and local authorities needed help finding the unsub before more victims appeared.

Emily had Rossi stay behind to keep working on Green to see if he would cooperate, which was turning into a colder lead by the day. They were trying hard to keep him out of prison and convince him that his cooperation would benefit all parties involved in capturing Sicarius. He keeps refusing to assist and the cognitive interview. The BAU was sympathetic to his plight, but Green has been warned that FBI benevolence can last for so long, especially since they have another way to contact Sicarius. So far, he doesn’t either care or believe them.

Back in Idaho, the four of you are split up to maximize resources and gather information. Alvez and Lewis went to Spokane, leaving you and JJ to work with the sheriff’s department, interview witnesses, family and friends, and examine the crime scene. You check in with your counterparts to compare notes several times a day to work the profile in two cities and update Prentiss and Garcia to narrow the search, fine tune the data.

Finally, you struck gold with Tommy Ferguson, a fifty-one-year-old local trucker who was physically abused by his alcoholic father. He had also been forced to watch his father beat and rape his mother repeatedly as punishment for being a bad child. When CPS* got involved, Tommy was living in Washington state and removed him from the home and placed in foster care. He passed around from home to home until he was of age. With this, he had a long list of anti-social traits that therapists tried to work through, but he often got into fights and petty thefts, causing small stints in jail. That is where he met Andrew Loyd as his cellmate, who was charged with involuntary manslaughter on his second DUI. The two of them met up three years ago after Loyd finished his stint in at the Idaho State Corrections, and soon the two spiraled into drugs, alcohol and violent tendencies against several women in the beginning when reunited. Loyd was the dominant in the relationship and kept escalating the partnership until they were torturing and murdering their victims.

This is why you were now outside a warehouse that was being rented by Ferguson with the reunited BAU and the local SWAT team. The contract had an agreement to store his cab, equipment, and trailers that he couldn’t store at his mobile home since there wasn’t enough room on the lot. It was also a potentially easy location to bring their victims to and from under the cover of Ferguson’s job. That was the running theory.

You convinced local police to keep Ferguson and Loyd off media outlets and take them by surprise as it was unknown if they had a current victim, and they were conveniently scarce. There were no missing people filed that fit their profile but that didn’t mean someone wasn’t inside the building. You couldn’t confirm and you didn’t want to escalate the timeframe of their kill and make a run for it. There were officers watching Ferguson’s trailer since he became a suspect but there was no recent sign of him. Even neighbors hadn’t seen him or Loyd lately. Loyd had no address and lived off the grid, presumably with Ferguson. That made the warehouse the most likely location for the pair.

The plan is simple. Enter quietly and take them by surprise once confirmed by plain clothes officers that they had visuals on the unsubs. The BAU and SWAT surrounded the area under the cover of Amazon and UPS trucks throughout the day setting up the operation. The vehicles would back up against the driveways and have officers secretly enter the buildings through the garages on either side of the targeted building, already approved by the owners of those properties. They would operate business as usual while feds and officers were staging the op in a locked back room. This was to keep the suspects contained in the area, minimize damage to the surrounding areas and loss of life, and hopefully protect any captured victims.

It was just after 10am when Luke and Tara took the lead heading behind the building while you and JJ had the front. Gun drawn, you nod to JJ and test the doorknob and true to the lifestyle in this area of Idaho, the door was unlocked while someone was onsite. You quietly continue to turn it and push the door open ajar. Silence greets you and nothing catches your visual interest. You signal to the team on how to split up and cover ground. JJ would be with you.

You and JJ broke off left and soon the beloved voice of Garcia was in your ear.

“Luke was useful and found an electrical box by his location. They missed it at first since it was painted over to look like part of the building.”

Then Prentiss spoke up. “It appears to be done on purpose. These guys are smart so be careful.”

“And it means I have access to the video feed. I will be your eyes my Padawans.”

You and JJ signal all clears and continue to move deeper into the warehouse. You are about to turn into the next room when Garcia shouts. “STOP! Do not go in there! Both of them are in the conference room with all sorts of nasty things that can kill you.”

You and JJ exchange looks, and you point to yourself, then her, and then the door signaling how you can take them by surprise. What you didn’t know is that Prentiss and Garcia can see you and JJ as well on the live feed by a camera in your area.

“Stand down. There’s no victim in there. Wait for further back up,” Prentiss orders.

“Uh … something spooked them. They’re grabbing things, Emily.” Penelope’s worried voice hits the adrenaline you have into overdrive.

“God damn SWAT moved too close to the windows.” Yeah, Prentiss was pissed. So are you.

You hear the erratic sounds of metal being moved around and a clip of ammo clicking into place. There were also careless footfalls that were smacking into furniture. With only seconds to think this through you look to JJ and signal for her to back up and they should take them as they leave. She nods in agreement as you holster your gun.

“What the hell are you doing, Whitlock? Pull your firearm out.” You ignore Emily because you know what you were doing. “I know you can hear me. Pull out your weapon!”

You both brace yourselves against the walls as you hear steps getting closer, the handle starts to shake, and soon the door swung open towards the inside. Your focus was on the first one that came through the door, and it was the lanky, greasy brown-haired Loyd. You grab his gun arm viciously and spin him around so his back slams up against the wall so hard that his baseball cap gets knocked off and falls to the ground. With you in control of where the gun is pointed, you and JJ remain safe.

The events happened so fast that Ferguson didn’t know what to make of it and when he passed through the doorway, his attention was with the struggle his partner was having with you. All it took was a well place crack of her gun handle on Ferguson’s shoulder to force him to drop his weapon. She kicks it out of reach and grabs him by the shirt collar. “FBI! Don’t move!” and places the barrel of the gun against his head for emphasis.

You put immediate pressure on the outside of Loyd’s arm against his radial nerve that causes him to cry out in excruciating pain that forces him to drop the weapon. You then twist his arm while kicking the gun far away from both men, forcing him to come off the wall and onto his knees. From there, it was easy to cuff him.

You and JJ had fun ping ponging announcing their Miranda rights as you both walked them through the warehouse.

Penelope warily looks up at Emily as the chatter from Luke and Tara comes through congratulating you and JJ on a nice takedown of the unsubs without being hurt. She saw Emily face set squarely, nostrils flaring with each inhalation of breath. The palms of her hands remained flat on Penelope’s desk, but Emily’s fingers were jagged at each joint. She was pissed.

She tries to diffuse the tension by clapping her hands. “Yay! Team Padawan got the bad guys!”

Emily raises a brow and tilts her head before pushing herself up to stand fully. “Yes, they did. Approximately how long until they’re back.”

“Uh …” She puts her arms down to do some calculations. “Probably seven to nine hours depending how quickly they hand the case off to local PD.”

“Let me know when they land.” She orders before turning to leave, not acknowledging Penelope with even a look.

When the door closes, Penelope mouths a ‘wow’ and looks at you on the video feed. “Oh, my beloved Whitlock. Mom’s pissed at you.”

Seven hours later, the BAU was back at Quantico and exhausted. You were all looking forward to finalizing the checkout procedure and heading home.

JJ is on her phone texting back and forth with Will as she heads to pick up her things at her desk. Luke yawns as he swings his to go bag around in hand and lets go, watching it land on his chair. He pumps his fist in victory. “Yes!”

“Nice form, Alvez. I’m impressed.” Tara looks at you. “Your turn.”

“Yeah, no. Knowing my luck, I’ll miss and knock everything off my desk.” You set your bag down on top of your desk and log into your computer to check out when Emily’s voice cuts through the lighthearted camaraderie.

“Whitlock. My office now.”

You look up in time to see an indignant cross armed Prentiss make brief eye contact with you before making an about face back inside her office. You didn’t even have a chance to appear confused before her, but your team saw it.

“What did you do?” Luke asks from across the bullpen.

“I … honestly have no idea,” you admit lamely and look to Tara and JJ. “You have any insights?”

Of course, the two of them wonder if this is about Emily’s feelings towards you and she was pretending to be upset to throw them off the trail.

Tara shrugs helplessly and JJ shakes her head no.

“Big help you two are.” You lock your station and start heading up to Emily’s office. “Better not keep her waiting.”

Once you passed by and were at a safe distance, Tara locks eyes with JJ and mouths, ‘Is this about your talk with Emily?’

JJ shrugs and mouths back, ‘No idea.’

Luke was too busy finishing up to notice the exchange.

“Hey …” you say, poking your head in and study Emily behind her desk not looking at you but at a file. She was making notes with a pen. You got a shiver down your spine and have a sense of déjà vu. “Wanted to see me?”

“Close the door.” She said it without looking up making you frown, but you did it. When it clicks close, she speaks again in that clip tone. “Have a seat.”

She still wasn’t looking at you and you almost wanted to take a seat on the couch to fuck with her but even you knew when to behave. It wasn’t often, but this was one of those times. So, you take a seat, rest a shoe on the opposite knee and interlock your fingers together on your stomach.

You begin the opening salvo with a, “What’s up chief?” since you sense a fight.

Emily makes a production in capping the pen before setting it down. It was then she looks.up at you with formidable brown orbs. “You may have gotten away with a lot of interpretations of orders in the CIA, but as you’re a member of the BAU, mine are not a suggestion.”

“Wait,” You pull your fingers free to lift a hand up to point at Emily. “This is about me putting my gun away?”

“Yes, this is about that. You never holster a weapon when confronting suspects,” she snaps back.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I am not.” She points the pen accusingly at you. “You went against protocol and my order. You could’ve gotten yourself and JJ killed.”

“But based on what I was aware of, I made the better call. Which ended in no shots fired and the suspects in custody.”

She looks at you with indignation and sits up straight in the chair. “But there is no way you could have predicted that. You got lucky.”

“No, what’s lucky is the call I made because I was concerned that if they saw us in their peripherals, they’d start shooting. By taking one by surprise, it knocked the other off their game and they became easy pickings for me and JJ to apprehend. It didn’t even take a minute,” you explain calmly. You didn’t want to feed into Prentiss’ exertion of authority. Even if the two of you were able to open up to one another and find common ground, you felt that your friendship with her was hanging on a precarious thread. Ever since drunk karaoke in her car, Emily felt more distant this week. Nothing could prove this was true besides the gnawing feeling in your gut.

Emily crosses her arms across her chest defensively. “You didn’t wait to hear what my next orders were going to be because you ignored me. You do not ignore your superior in the field, Whitlock.”

“Okay, then. Enlighten me oh great and all-knowing Prentiss on how the situation would have went down with your orders.” You motion to her with both arms extending with the cocky condescending tone you were known for. Yeah, the whole being nice thing just went out the window after that.

“You and JJ would have backed off, put enough distance between you and the door to provide enough opportunity to take them off guard. You’d have them in your sights with weapons trained on them, giving you both the upper hand.”

“Loyd is the issue with that.” She starts to open her mouth to argue but you continue. “I’m serious. The guy got off on violence and would have opened fire. Instead of exchanging fire with no known outcome on casualties, we go two suspects alive and me and JJ unharmed.”

Emily knew you were right, but she was edging towards a release and fighting with you for going against her order was all she had right now. It was completely irrational, and she knew it, but her mouth wouldn’t stop. “Regardless you blatantly ignored me in the field. That is unacceptable. How am I to trust you won’t do this again?”

That raises the hackles on your neck. Your face twists in contempt as she doesn’t back down with her haughty air of authority. “Are you fucking kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me?! After everything I told you, after everything we shared, you don’t fucking trust me?”

Your eyes were seething, which matches the intensity of Emily’s anger. But there was a flicker of awareness that briefly peaked through a crack in her defense.

Your phone rings and you reach for it resting in your back pocket. “May the ladyship excuse me?” You ask with a biting tone. “I have to check who this is. Or are ya gonna order me to ignore it?”

“Don’t be a child.” She snaps.

“Then stop acting like I personally offended you because I made the better call.” You could feel your lips curl into a snarl. You were offended that Emily felt that your relationship had to fall back a few steps because her ego got bruised. You thought Emily was better than the usual agents turned bureaucrats. Emily had strong roots in the work. She should be able to understand a different call in the middle of an operation that you felt was right, not because you wanted to undermine her authority. You pegged her wrong, and it saddens you.

“Ah fuck.” You finally take note of who was calling and hit accept before it went to voicemail. “I need to take this.”

“Brian?” she asks hesitantly.

“No, my therapist.” You watched as Emily’s face went from hot to baffled within seconds. “What? Never had mandated therapy before?” you accuse, because of course Emily had it with all the shit she’s been through and switch your attention to the caller. “Kinda late for you. Everything alright?”

“Well, is everything alright with you?”

“Yes, just in a meeting with my boss.”

“Emily?”

You sigh and confirm. “Yes, Emily. But back to you, why are you calling?”

“I need to reschedule Monday. I’m on the way to the airport to see my mother.”

“Oh shit. Is she okay?”

“She had a fall, and I need to get eyes on her.”

You are amazed at how Nina could sound so sterile over the phone about personal matters. You know why, because you’re her patient, and it makes sense to keep things separated as much as possible. But there are times, like this, when she offers a glimpse into her life.

“I’m sorry to hear that and yeah, of course we can reschedule. I hope she’s gonna be okay.” You mean every word. You always find people who have any relationship with their mothers that are positive, something to be grateful for. You sure as hell didn’t have that.

“I appreciate that. Talk to you soon.”

“Yeah, Nina. Be safe.”

Emily’s eyes widen in horror and JJ’s words come back to haunt her. She made a terrible assumption and clearly didn’t have all the information because Nina was your therapist. And your therapist knew about her. So, in some way, you talked about her in your sessions. Or was it just a footnote in your file that Nina knew? Either way….

Fuck!

Emily recovers quickly and smooths out her features as you end the call. “Is Nina alright?”

You found it strange that Emily seemingly cared about this after being a bitch. “She is. It’s her mom.”

“Oh.” She licks her lips and decides not to press further. Your curt responses were not open ended. You were closing up and rightfully so. Damn her assumptions and taking the call you made in the field personally. This should have been a collaborated conversation about field ops and chain of command. A conversation you had hinted happened often and got you into trouble. Why should it be different at the BAU? She offers neutral sympathy. “I’m … sorry to hear that.”

You squint trying to read Emily and come up confused. “Yeah. Anyway …” you quirk a brow. “Shall we revisit the child comment?”

“No. I think we’re done here.” Her tone is not as sharp but holds finality.

“Fantastic.” You rise and start to leave, but before you do, you take one last look at Prentiss and give her a Han Solo salute. “Have a lovely weekend your worshipfulness. See ya Monday.”

Emily watches you go but unlike the last time the two of you argued, you didn’t slam the door closed, and Emily didn’t reach for the pack of cigarettes in the desk drawer. Instead, she rests her forehead against the desk and pounds a fist atop it. “Fucking hell.”

*Child Protective Services

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[99hook]

Casual

“Casual. You throw that word around a lot, but at this point, I don’t even think you know what it means.”

18+

There was a comfortable silence that tended to take over whenever the two of you ran out of things to talk about, but it was never awkward or tense.

He was sitting next to you on your couch, stuffing some Japanese food in his mouth while you sifted through your rice to find pieces still doused in sauce.

“So you’re staying the night?” You asked, glancing up from your to-go plate to see if he made any sort of notable reaction.

He didn’t. He simply nodded, eyes still focused on his food, “Mhm” he hummed, then looked over at you. “Unless you don’t want me to.” He added with a crooked smirk.

“I mean, as long as you don’t take up all the hot water again, I don’t care.” You teased, half meaning it.

“Guess you’ll be showering with me then.”

His dimple deepened with that lopsided smirk that seemed to be contagious. You looked down to hide your blush, but he noticed it.

You heard him set his plate down on the coffee table and felt the shift in the cushions when he slid closer to you. His arm snaked around your shoulder, and you closed your box and placed it next to his.

Leaning back, you snuggled closer to him, bringing your legs up to drape across his lap, and he instinctively started running his fingers down them.

“Update me. I know you want to.” He smirks as he rests his head back against the cushion, looking down at you with eyes desperate for sleep, but refusing to waste this time.

“Let me think.” You sighed. It’s been close to a month since the last time you saw each other, and you were sure a lot has happened since then, but your mind was too preoccupied by the feel of his fingertips slowly roaming up and down your leg.

He saw the thoughtful expression and tried to jog your memory for you, reverting back to the texts and phone calls you’d exchanged over the last month. Shortened details of bigger stories he was curious to learn in person.

“Work? Your asshole boss? Coworkers still suck?” He listed off, earning a chuckle from you.

“Oh yeah, nothing new there. Everyone still sucks and I’m still ready to leave that place. I’m pretty sure my boss is the devil incarnated and my coworkers are his spawns.”

“And you’re just an angel, huh?” He smirked. You could hear the sarcasm dripping in his voice and rolled your eyes.

“Never said that.”

“Nah but from what you’ve told me, they all sound pretty shitty. Except that one girl. I forget her name but whoever the one is that helps you out a lot.”

“Kelsey.” You nod. “Yeah, I love her. Everyone else, not so much.”

He nods slowly. He’s genuinely listening, but his eyes are also roaming over every inch of your face. In truth, he’s just admiring you, but it always makes you feel a little self conscious.

When you can’t hold his gaze, you look down at your hand resting against his chest.

“You always do that.” He says before you feel his finger curl beneath your chin, lifting your gaze back to his. “Why?”

“Why what?” You tried to play dumb, but the look he shot told you that he knew you that was bullshit.

“Well, you stare at me a lot.” You shrug.

“You’re beautiful.” He easily retorts.

You felt the heat creeping up to your cheeks. You were sure he could plainly see the velvet shades casting over your skin from the simple compliment.

It was always like this. He made you feel every emotion in the book, even though none of it was ever meant to form into anything more than what it was.

Casual. That’s what you both labeled it the first time you emerged from the post-orgasm daze and had to figure out what you were doing in the first place before he had to be somewhere else.

It was an easily understood title. Basically like no strings attached, or at least that’s what you concluded. Situationship sounded a little better to you, but with that there was an indication that there was the possibility of a future relationship, and with this, you knew there wasn’t.

“You’re a charmer by nature.” You rolled your eyes, and he was unfazed by that.

“Don’t you like it when I compliment you?” He asked genuinely. You could tell it was a serious question by the way his brows knitted together slightly.

You liked it, yeah. The feelings that erupted from it? No.

“I like it when you shut up and kiss me.” You retaliated. It was a defense mechanism on your part. You just wanted to feel like you had some sort of control here, because Tyler seemed to be ever so collected inside and out.

You on the other hand, spent hours upon hours each night trying to fight back the feelings you got when he did something as simple as send you a heart emoji.

But he didn’t object. He let out a small chuckle and you felt the vibration underneath your palm, just before he leaned in and pressed his lips softly to yours.

The smell of his cologne overtook your senses first. A scent that lingers on your pillows weeks after he’s gone. You felt like you could pinpoint it anywhere, and just know it as him.

One of his hands cups your cheek while the other slowly slides higher up your thigh. You feel the neediness for him begin to take hold somewhere deep within. Somewhere only he could ever reach.

You feel yourself slowly reclining back against the cushions, and him shifting smoothly until he’s laying between your thighs.

“Take this off.” You breathe between leisure kisses, tugging at his shirt. You felt him smirk against your lips before he breaks the kiss to grab the end of the shirt with his free hand, easily pulling it over his head and discarding it somewhere on the living room floor.

Your eyes trail down to his chest. Something about it always gains your attention. Whether it’s the sculpted muscles that you loved to feel beneath your hands, or the tattoos you loved to trace with your fingertips.

He watches as you run your palms from his chest to his torso, and then hooking two fingers in the hem of his sweatpants.

“These too.” You say, tugging at them.

“Yes ma’am.” He obliges before he gets on his knees and slides them down.

You take that time to pull your shirt and shorts off. He keeps his eyes on you, watching your every move with an insatiable hunger he couldn’t hide for the life of him.

When you’re left in just your bra, he stops you before you can unlatch it yourself. His lips find your neck as his fingers work on the clasp until you feel the straps loosen and slide down your arms.

He pulls them down the rest of the way and tosses your bra somewhere amongst the rest of your discarded clothes, before he grabs your hips and pulls you back down so that you’re laying beneath him again.

You instinctively spread your thighs for him, glancing down at the gap between your bodies that’s soon to be closed like you want.

“Ready?” He always asks. His eyes glance up at your face, and you can see that he’s doing his best to be slow and patient, but he’s dying for more.

You nod immediately, twisting the ends of his hair with your fingertips as you eagerly pull him down to your lips.

The kiss a few minutes ago was just a build up. Slow, leisure and delicate. This one was full of desire, anticipation, the eagerness neither of you could hide if you wanted to.

In the midst of it, you felt him completely fill you. Stretching you to your limits in a way that had become the only thing you’ve ever been truly addicted to.

A sharp gasp escaped your lips and a deep, guttural groan ripped through his chest. He held himself still for a couple of seconds, until he felt you relaxing around him.

Slowly, he pulls almost all the way out, and slowly; he pushes back into you again. It stays like this until you can’t take it anymore, and a smirk slips across his lips when you start to thrust your hips up in a desperate attempt for more.

He doesn’t object, though. Truthfully, he may be on top but he’s following your lead. Whatever you want, however you want it, that’s what he wants. It might be taking every last ounce of strength within him to keep things slow and steady, but if that’s how you want it then he’ll do it all night long.

But thankfully he picked up on the cues your body was giving and he could finally pick up the pace.

When you felt his hand tightly grip your hip and pin you in place, you knew what you were in for.

He leaned up some, the ends of his hair fluttering against your cheek as his hot, short breaths lingered against your skin. You felt him sneak a few delicate kisses against your jaw but you had to act like it never happened, or else that’s all you’d be thinking about for the next month.

His name effortlessly flew past your lips when he relentlessly crashed into you, hard, fast and unforgiving, just like the first time when he was obviously trying to prove to you that he was good in bed.

Your nails dug into his back as he repeatedly hit that one special spot that in truth, only he ever did before.

You couldn’t contain the high moans, the wildly breathy gasps and whimpers that spilled out of you with every thrust of his hips.

He was in the same boat, though. You know you heard him muttering a multitude of fucks and goddamns.

His fingers tangled up in your hair as he rocked into you. You could hardly hold on at this point, even though you wanted this to last as long as humanly possible. It was impossible.

He knew you were close when you wrapped your legs tightly around him, and the sounds you made got a hell of a lot higher than before.

He coaxed you silently. Using his lips in one way instead of another.

He latched them to your neck, boldly sucking a spot that he realized after the first time, must’ve been a weakness for you.

He felt pride swelling in his chest at the sound of you coming completely and utterly undone. Just the way your back arched and your breasts pressed against his chest was enough for him, but he was holding back waiting for you.

His teeth gently scraped your skin, but it was enough to send shivers skating rapidly down your spine. You couldn’t control it, even if you wanted to.

Within moments, that warm sensation that was begging to run wild through your body, finally got the permission to do it.

You came with a relieved, blissful gasp that morphed into a drawn out moan, and his low groans and raspily muttered curses intermingled in the air.

Breathless and utterly spent, the two of you laid on that couch for at least ten minutes before he finally pulled out of you.

The second he got up, the sweat that smeared your skin didn’t mix well with the room temperature, and a chill shot through you.

Tyler grabbed your clothes first. They were inside out, so he fixed them before he handed them to you.

You watched as he slid on his sweatpants and draped his shirt over his shoulder, sitting back down next to you.

You hadn’t put your clothes back on, instead just let them lay in your lap as you stared down at them.

“What’s wrong?” He asks after a moment. You shake your head, but you don’t look at him.

Again, his finger hooks underneath your chin and raises your gaze so that you’re matched with his. Something that always gives you butterflies, but you won’t tell him that.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”

You wanted to say it, but not as much as you didn’t want to ruin everything the two of you had. You knew from the beginning that this was casual. You knew it and you had no right to feel some type of way about it now.

The heart was just stupid sometimes, you realized that when just the feel of his shoulder brushing against yours could make your stomach erupt with butterflies.

“Nothing.” You lied again. “Wanna shower with me?”

He eyed you for a moment. He knew you weren’t being honest but he also suspected why, and it was a conversation he knew he wanted to have, but he always second guessed if it was the right time to have it.

He contemplated pressing the subject, but the risk that came along with that kept his mouth shut. Instead, he just nodded and got up from the couch, extending his hand for you to take, and lead you through your room where the bathroom was.

He started the water, and as his back was turned, you took a moment to study yourself in the mirror.

The purple marks he left on your neck would be there for a while. Of course you needed to cover them up for work but you didn’t mind them as much as you would if anyone else were to leave them on you.

Your lips were puffy and a little swollen, and they were tender to the touch, but you liked it.

You could faintly see the redness that his fingerprints left on your hip, and that’s when his hand snaked around your stomach and he pressed a kiss to your temple, eyeing you in the mirror along with you.

You turned in his arms and offered a smile before you walked past him, letting him get undressed himself while you stepped in and felt the scolding hot droplets somehow relax every one of your tense nerves.

He stepped in behind you, his hands snaking around your waist and chin resting on your shoulder as he swayed you side to side.

You leaned your head back, the water drenching every inch of you, but you weren’t sure it was the temperature of it, or if he was the reason you felt like you were nearly on fire.

“You know something?” You hear him whisper, his breath lingering against the shell of your ear.

“Hm?”

“I’m comfortable with you.” He says. It was a simple admission, but the way he said it sounded almost as if it was a revelation to him. A shock, even.

“Yeah?” You tried to act casual. Key word for everything here, you assumed.

“Yeah.” He continued swaying. “Everything feels…” He trailed off, and the first word that popped into your head was, right. Everything feels right.

But the word he chose wasn’t that.

“Easy.” He decided on. “Everything’s just real easy with you.”

You felt a pang in your heart, but you fought against it. You nodded like you agreed, and started lathering body wash all over yourself.

He helped, rubbing the suds all over your skin, then reaching behind him to grab the shampoo and pouring some in his hand.

You felt his hands lathering it through your hair, pausing for a second cause the gesture made your heart flutter, but you then reminded yourself that you shouldn’t feel like that.

You let him shampoo your hair, then turned around, facing him as you rinsed it all out. He watched you with exhausted eyes and a crooked smirk, then grabbed your hips and pulled you into him.

“You wanna go out tomorrow before I leave?” He asks. Of course the first thing you thought was, like a date? Of course you didn’t ask that question though.

“Sure.” You agreed like it wasn’t making your heart hammer against your rib cage. “But aren’t you worried about being spotted with your casual?”

You didn’t mean to add the bitter undertone, but that’s how it came out. You thought he noticed, but the way his lips tipped up slightly made you unsure.

“I don’t care what anyone thinks. You know this already.”

“Even if it gets plastered all over social media? You know how fast rumors spread.”

“There’s no rumor to be spread.” He shrugs coolly. “People don’t know me like they think they do, and they don’t know us especially. Let them think whatever they want. I just want to show you a good time somewhere other than your bed.”

You bit back your smile, looking down to hide it, but once again, that finger curled under your chin and you had to look into his eyes. Couldn’t hide that grin if your life depended on it.

“And Casual. You throw that word around a lot, but at this point, I don’t even think you know what it means.” He smirks, and you felt your brows knitting together in confusion.

“That’s what we agreed on.” You shrugged.

“Yeah, and that’s not what we turned out being.” He copied your shrug.

You opened your mouth to speak but there were no words able to be formed at that moment. You simply stared up at him, feeling like all the things you’ve felt might’ve actually been mutual afterall.

“This isn’t a conversation for right now. I think we’re both tired and probably still loopy from that fire ass sex we just had, but tomorrow, I think we have a lot to talk about.”

You nodded easily, and before you could say anything back, his hands cupped your cheeks and he made sure you were looking intently into his eyes, hanging onto every word he said.

“But if you were just casual, i’d never kiss you like this.” He says before he presses his lips to yours with a purpose that makes your head spin.

You instantly melt into him, arms wrapping around the back of his neck, bodies flush as you were rendered absolutely breathless.

Breaking apart, there were no words left to be said. He simply leaned down and cut off the water, opened the shower door and grabbed two towels. He wrapped one around you and one around his waist before he took your hand and placed a kiss to your knuckles.

“movie, round two or sleep?” He smirked. A coy smirk that made you feel weak in the knees all over again.

“All three, in that order.”

———

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[thewulf]

I Got You || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - I was wondering if I could request a Jake Seresin x reader where they're friends but they definitely have more between them, a supposed 'best friend' of the reader says something about the reader in a group setting about her past that she had told him in confidence... Read Rest Here

A/N: Jake Boy! Thank you for the request @stuffingbuttsandshit

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 2.0k +

TW: Parental abuse, beating, mentions of blood

Your heart raced making it hard to hear, only the rushing of blood in your ears as you processed what your longtime friend just said in front of the entire squadron. You’d told him that little bit about yourself in confidence, in private. It wasn’t meant for the ears of the entirety of base.

After a particularly shaky day up in the air your partner in the sky, Max, pulled you to the side trying to get to the bottom of why you were suddenly flying so distracted. A subtle way to say that you were flying like dog shit. Not that you could deny it, you were. But you couldn’t help it, not at all. You’d been called by your lawyer from long ago, from when you were just a child. He’d called to inform you that your abusive piece of shit of a father had been let out of prison on ‘good behavior’. You couldn’t stop the anxiety from creeping in. You’d testified against him. You’d helped put him behind bars. Damn, it was so long ago and now it was confronting you right in the face yet again.

He'd nearly beat your mother to death by the time the police arrived. You’d found her phone making sure to dial 9-1-1 before hiding under your bed. It wasn’t you this time. No, but your poor, sweet mother was on the end of his abuse this time. He’d only hit you a few times. But he’d only hit her a few times before you’d witnessed what you thought was your mother dying right in front of you. Any longer and she would’ve been. You were just thirteen when it all went down.

You were twenty-eight now. Fifteen years had passed. Your mom recovered. Took some time and found a new boyfriend. One that you loved. They got married when you were eighteen. She’d found her person. You were shown what love was. Finally, after all those years of nothing but abuse she’d been set free. You’d been set free.

You knew nothing would realistically happen, but you couldn’t held the nerves that spilled over into your work. What if he just showed up? Would he try and kill you? Talk it out?

Anxiety was eating away at you. Flying was the last damn thing on your mind. So, when Max did pull you aside you spilled your guts to him. He’d consoled you as you cried in his arms. He’d been your friend for so long. Since flight school even. You thought he was your biggest ally.

But when you heard those words, “Even Y/N isn’t perfect. She’s got a few scars from her daddy. Isn’t that right?” Max spoke so casually in front of the halfway drunk dagger squad.

It wasn’t malicious, you chose to believe that anyway. He’d even looked somewhat apologetic as hurt and discomfort flashed through your eyes. Nobody, not a damn soul knew about that. Nobody from your previous life knew about it. You’d told him in confidence, or so you thought. You’d never dreamed of them finding out, not the entirety of your coworkers. It wasn’t a direct confession though. You’d gotten a few quizzical looks from the pilots who couldn’t connect two and two. But a few of them got it. They looked away awkwardly, not daring to say a word.

You smiled slightly trying to hide your dumb expression, “Yeah, we’ve all got issues.” You nodded taking a large drink from your glass. When you looked up you saw his eyes on you. Jakes big green eyes were watching you awkwardly avoid the conversation so suddenly. He was one of the few that got Max’s insinuation. Because of course he did. Jake was smart. Cunning. He was surely going to use it against you at some point. He was more competitive than anybody you’d come across. He used any advantage he could. And knowing that would certainly be an advantage.

Trying to avoid his obvious gaze on you, you decided to finish your beer. It was the perfect excuse to get up to go get another. You jumped up from the high top you were sitting at making sure to grab your empty glass before vanishing off in the thick crowd.

When you got your refreshed beverage back from the bar you decided on walking outside and taking a moment before joining the group again. Little did you know you had a blonde pilot following you. Jake had always had a little bit of a soft spot towards you. He needed to make sure you were alright. Your demeanor signaled something was off.

Not a few seconds later Jake walked out seeing you sitting down on a bench watching the ocean. You were so focused in you hadn’t even heard Jake approaching. You’d only noticed him once he set his glass down next to yours.

“Jake!” You jumped slightly from your seat.

“Are you okay?” He asked catching you off guard.

“I’m okay.” You answered quickly avoiding his questioning gaze. Something was off, he wasn’t dumb. You were never so timid, not with him.

“No, you aren’t. What’s going on Y/N?” He asked in a gentler voice. Hoping you’d open up just a little to him.

“I just…” You took a moment to find the words, “Nobody was supposed to know that about my dad. I’m not my abusive piece of shit of a father. I can’t change my past. I just, I don’t know.” You let a tear fall. It was an impossible task to not cry. You’d done so damn good for so damn long and one little slip up ruined the illusion of you.

Jake squeezed your shoulder hoping it’d give you some comfort, “They had no idea what Max was even saying.”

“You did though.” You countered him quickly.

He nodded, “They’re not me.” A small smirk formed on his face. Classic Jake. Little did he know it helped though, even the smallest amount.

“Yeah, sure.” You sighed sounding oddly defeated. Not having that usual fire when bantering back and forth between him. You just didn’t have it in you. Not tonight. Not after that low blow from your friend.

“Hey,” He tugged at your arm gently so that you’d look at him, “I promise you they don’t have a clue. And you’re right. You aren’t your dad. You aren’t even your mom. You are you. And thank goodness you are.” He gave you a smile so genuine that you were pretty sure you were seeing him in an entirely new light.

“I thought you hated me Seresin.” You felt an odd sense of relief over his newfound softness towards you. It shouldn’t have made you feel as damn good as it did but here you were.

He sat down next to you quickly, “Could never. I’m really sorry I ever made you feel like that. I thought you liked it. The way we… talk.”

You felt him scoot a little bit closer. Your head turned to him looking at him, “It’s fine.” As quickly as you looked at him you turned away feeling painfully awkward with just him, so damn close. You’d never really thought of him as more than a colleague

He frowned seeing you turn in on yourself. He usually brought out the fiery side in you. This was different. A bad different, “Are you okay?” He asked wanting so desperately to take your hand in his, but he didn’t. He knew it’d be too much considering it looked like you were about to break.

Were you okay? No, not really. You were an anxiety ridden mess with the worst thoughts racing through your head. With your elbows on your knees, you placed your head in the palm of your hands contemplating what the hell you wanted to say to him.

Slowly you shook your head back and forth, “No.”

“Can I hug you?” He moved just a touch closer just waiting on your word.

You didn’t have to think much before you were nodding and mumbling, “Please.”

That was all he needed before he grabbed you, pulling you right into his lap, holding you as close as you needed, “It’s okay, you’ll be okay.” He spoke into your hair as you laid you head on his chest. This was certainly not how your day was going to go, cuddled up on Hangman’s lap about to cry your eyes out. But you were holding on. You really didn’t want to cry like this in front of him.

But the next sentence made the damn burst, “I really am glad you’re you. That you’re here. You push me, make me better.” He admitted before continuing, “Whatever it is, I’ll be there for you. Promise.”

How could you not cry? Here was this so-called asshole being the sweetest to you. Truly, nobody had ever been so loving towards you other than your mother.

He didn’t say a word as you broke in front of him, a nightmare only hours ago. But now? Now it felt comforting. He pulled your head flush to his chest as he let you cry. Fisting his sweater in your grasp you just let yourself cry. But even that had to stop.

When he heard your sniffled die down he spoke again, “It’s okay. I got you. I got you.” You’d be lying if the gentle whispers and his hand running through your hair didn’t make you feel something more, even just a little.

“I’m so sorry.” Mild embarrassment overcame you realizing how snuggled up to the man you hardly knew you were.

Giving you a gentle squeeze, he opted to just hold you, “No need to apologize darlin’. Are you going to be alright?” He had to ask again having to know what you needed. He felt paralyzed, unsure of how to help.

“My dad. He got out of prison last night. I’m just… so scared of him.” Letting out a shuttered breath you didn’t dare look up to him. You felt his eyes on you.

Jake felt like his heart broke then and there. Here you were terrified and clinging to him. Scared of what he assumed to be an abusive man who must’ve done something bad to get locked behind bars. You’d tell him the whole story eventually.

“I’ll stay with you tonight.” He answered so quickly you weren’t sure if he had even processed his own words.

You shook your head, “I can’t ask that of you Jake…”

He stopped you, “You didn’t ask. I’m offering sweetheart. Please, let me do this. It’ll help. I promise.”

You finally looked up at him, “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

You nodded briefly, “Okay.”

“Alright. I’m driving.” He didn’t give you a second to protest before he stood quickly, bringing you up in his arms.

“I can walk Jake.” You tried squirming out of his grasp. He only gripped onto you more tightly, a smug smile coating his face.

“I’m aware Y/N.” He still didn’t put you back on the ground, only quickened his pace to his truck.

He opened the door to his truck, setting you down and shutting the door behind him. Jumping into the driver’s seat he turned on the truck looking over at you. He watched as you buckled in and looked out the window without so much of a thought crossing your eyes.

“What’s going on it that head of yours?” He asked quietly hoping not to startle you out of your thoughts too drastically.

“As fucked up as it is, I just wish he would’ve died in there.” You admitted not really caring about how he felt about you right about now.

Jake shrugged, “Sounds like the feeling is warranted.” He said nonchalantly as he started the drive back to your place. You’d plugged in your address into his phone, so you didn’t have to think about it.

“You don’t even know the story.” Why were you even beginning to defend your father? He was a cruel, evil man.

“But I do know you a bit. I know your rational. Smart. Kind. You don’t get there without reason.” He said casually continuing the short drive home.

You sighed wishing your stupid brain could just drop it.

He gave your thigh a light squeeze, “I got you. From here on out, okay? I got you.”

You gave him a soft smile choosing to believe that “Thank you Jake.”

He nodded, “Anytime darlin’. Anytime.”

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mayhemmanaged @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891

[lovedrruunk]

It would be so cool if you could write a venture x reader where Y/N is too nervous to speak to Venture so Mercy wingmans for them‼��

‘The best wingwoman ! ଘ(˵╹ᴗ╹)━☆

Venture (Overwatch) x GN reader

Authors note!; super cute request!!! Did I tell u guys I'm a mercy main…. DISGUSTING I KNOW!! But I also main Ana so it cancels out… also tbh there’s a lot of requests that I haven’t gotten to *YET* simply bc idk how to go about them :( but this one came to me rlly easily !! Ty!!! also finished this whole thing while listening to phantom of the opera on repeat for 2 hours (i need 2 write a moira fic omg...) UPDATE: HELLO??? THE MERCY MYTHIC? okok ill stfu now sry!!

Earlier today, you were dragged to a work party by your colleague and guardian angel, Angela Ziegler. You begged her to let you stay home, but she refused, saying she wouldn't be able to go without you since you were the only coworker she actually enjoyed spending time with. And so, being the amazing friend you are, of course, you agreed to go to keep her company!... Just kidding!

Angela knew you too well. Once she mentioned that the cutie from the Wayfinder Society was attending, you did a complete 180, now asking her what you should wear. She couldn't help but laugh at your reaction, amused at how predictable you were when it came to romance.

Sloane Cameron, also known as Venture, also known as the cutie from the Wayfinder Society, had quickly captured your attention ever since you first met them a couple of months ago when the Wayfinder Society was adopted by Overwatch as a sub-branch. Being the head anthropologist for Overwatch led you to spending a good amount of time with Venture and their team. Granted, it was just work and sharing data and all that, but you couldn't help but find them super intriguing. They were funny, lively, and so passionate about their work! But as badly as you wanted to get to know them, you just couldn't. Their confidence was a blessing and a curse, being the cause of why you liked them and the cause of why you were so terrified of talking to them.

Every week or so, you and Angela meet up at the cafeteria at Overwatch's headquarters to catch up while drinking your morning coffee/tea/whatever, which you of course just use as time to gush about your overwhelming crush on your new coworker. But last week... last week, you had decided enough was enough. You made a promise to Angela that by next week, you would at least ask them if they'd want to hang out outside of work. Feeling pumped and confident, you had excitedly gotten all dolled up for the party.

And now, here you were. The party was in an old Victorian mansion with lots of expensive art and chandeliers, nothing less for Overwatch, of course. The first time you had attended a work party, you were extremely underdressed, assuming it was a casual get-together, not at all expecting it to be an elegant and serious "ball" like party. You cringed at the memory before Angela snapped you out of it, handing you a glass of champagne.

"So? Is today the day?" she questions as she leans against the back wall you had been standing next to.

"I don't know, Angela..." you whined as you not so discreetly stared at them from across the room.

It was the first time you had seen them in formal attire, and you couldn’t help but admire how they looked good in everything.

"Go ask them to dance!" She suggested happily.

"What!? No way! I can't dance, especially not with them!"

“Oh, don't give me that! The worst they could say is no."

"'No' is definitely not the worst they could say. They could say 'get away from me' or 'why are you talking to me about something other than rocks' or 'your foundation doesn't match your neck.. and no I would rather drop dead than dance with you'."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm serious!- Wait!! Did you see that? They smiled at the new rookie! What if they like her!? What if they came here together!? What if they're dating!? Married!!? Oh my god, and now they're chatting it up with Tiff from communications! They're laughing, what's so funny!?"

"You have got to be kidding me..."

"Right!? She's not even funnier than me..."

Catching you off guard, Angela grips your shoulders, forcing you to face her.

"Shut up," she says sternly, fighting off the urge to smack you in the face. "Just ask them. You'll never know until you do... And if you don't, I owe that infuriating geneticist twenty bucks..." She murmurs the last part to herself angrily.

"Y'know what? You're right!"

You quickly finish the glass of champagne, putting it on the table next to you. Feeling encouraged by your friend, you take a deep breath before marching towards Venture... right before turning your heel and marching straight back to Angela.

"I feel like I'm gonna throw up..."

"You haven't even said anything!!!"

After a bit of back and forth, Angela is fed up and tells you that if you weren't going to do anything about it, then she will.

As she makes her way towards Venture, you whisper yell at her, begging her to come back and let you give it another try. But knowing you, she decides to ignore your desperate pleas as she continues to happily strut towards them.

From the distance, you can't make out what they're talking about, and it's driving you nuts. Angela's back is facing you, but Venture's face lights up, so you decide to take that as a good sign. And just as you start to smile... Angela turns around and points at you.

You freeze in place for what felt like a year before your eyes focus again. Venture is grinning as they wave to you, and Angela uses her hand to call you over. You force a wide smile (not aware of how crazy you look) as you timidly walk up to the two of them.

"Y/N! I was just mentioning to our sweet Cameron over here how you love to dance! They've never been to a party like this, isn't that crazy!"

"Yeah!! Wayfinder never had the funding by itself to afford something like this! I've never really had a reason to learn how to dance, so I have no clue; was hoping you could teach me!?"

"Me? Oh, sorry! I don't know how to dance!"

"But... Dr. Ziegler just said.."

"I know! Poor little Angie... ever since her last birthday, her memory has been terrible!! Must've confused me with Lena!"

You could feel the death glare Angela was giving you, but you continued to smile innocently at them.

"Well... I guess this would be a good opportunity for us to learn, don't ‘cha think?" Of course. Of course, they would somehow find a solution to your excuse.

"Great idea!!" Angela claps her hands together happily. "Why don't you two head to the dance floor? You'll only learn from experience!"

"I agree!"

Before you can say anything, you're dragged by the hand of a very excited Venture, and although your palms are sweaty and your head is spinning, you can't help but feel so much excitement.

. . .

And so as the dancefloor clears and the two of you are making your way out to the gardens, you spot a grinning Angela and a scowling Moira putting away her wallet.