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write-orflight · 4 years ago

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The Fraction of Innocence.

**Gif Not Mine**

Anon Requested: 10, 16, and 25 for the smutty prompts thing!!!

10: “were you just touching yourself?” ‘yeah, what are you donna do about it?’

16: “the only way you are gonna get off is on my thigh.”

25: “she may be all lollipops and candy bars, but I bet behind closed doors she’s hand cuffs and gags.”

Pairings: SpencerXReader

Rating: M, (This is very explicit.)

Words: 4K

Warnings: NSFW!!! 18+ (Dom!Spencer, BDSM overtones, sexual conduct, fingering, bondage, etc.)

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Spencer thinks Y/N is an innocent, naive girl until a case reveals her extracurricular activities.

Spencer had been back from jail for 2 months when he first met her.

At first he didn’t think anything of her, other than the faint smell of vanilla and daisy as she walked past him in the bullpen and the bright smile that seemed to take up half her face. She was carrying files close to her chest like a schoolgirl late to class and the skirt of her white dress bellowed softly behind her as she made her way to Emily’s office.

“Who is that?” He had asked.

Luke looked up to where Spencer’s gaze was. “Oh, that’s Y/N, she's a tech analyst helping Penelope out right now. She’s sweet, you’ll like her.”

It doesn’t take Spencer long after that to decide he, in fact, does not like you. There was nothing wrong with you. Luke was right, you were sweet, almost sickeningly so. It was like you had no concept of reality. You lived in this world of all sunshine and good things despite the horror that crossed your screen daily. And while Penelope was the same, she at the very least knew how bad the world could be and chose to see the good in it. You didn’t, it was like you’d never had a single bad thing happen to you. And Spencer, who had been dealt the bad hand so many times in life hated that.

It also didn’t help that you were gorgeous too. You looked like an artist sculpted you himself to make the perfect woman. Real People weren’t supposed to look like that. Real people were supposed to have flaws and blisters. Real people were supposed to look tired so early in the morning not fully awake and smiling while handing everyone in the office a coffee. He didn’t understand how you could be real.

“Here you go, Spencer. Americano lots of sugar.” You said, placing the coffee on his desk.

“Thank you.” He mumbles.

“We have a case, by the way.” You giggle, going off to hand Luke his coffee before walking away to the conference room. Spencer was barely able to keep his eye roll at bay.

Luke sees that and laughs, clapping Spencer on the back. “Come on, kid. Play nice.”

“She’s giggling about a murder case.” Spencer grumbles before following him into the conference room.

“3 women have been murdered in Queens. Judging by the scars, they were all bound and strangled before finally being dumped in an alley.” Garcia says, as she goes through the slides, showing the crime scenes. “Police need our help finding the connection between these three women because right now, it looks like there is none.”

“I’d say.” Tara speaks up. “We have a waitress/student, a doctor, and a paralegal. All living in different areas of the city with virtually no reason to interact.”

Spencer looks down at his file, examining the picture when he notices something. Just as he opens his mouth to say something, you clear your throat.

“Umm, Emily?” You say from your seat right across from Spencer. Emily looks up inquisitively at you. “I think I know what connects them.”

“What’s that, Y/N?” Emily asks, raising a brow at her.

You clear your throat again. “Victim #2, Rebecca Belfront, has a Padlock collar necklace on in her second picture. That’s typically used to indicate she’s a submissive with a committed dominant partner. But she wasn’t wearing it when her body was found which makes me think that that relationship recently ended. That made me look at the marks on their arms. While there are some new ones from the murders, they all have faded marks around the wrist and body as well. Leads me to believe the bounding was er-... consensual. We should probably look into New York’s BDSM scene.” You close, smiling awkwardly.

Spencer looks at you in shock. He, of course, had come to the same conclusion you did and had been about to say that but he, at least, knew why he knew that. Why did you know that?

Emily hummed thoughtfully. “It’s worth looking into. Do you mind coming to NY with us? Your insight might be needed.”

You look kind of shocked at that but nod. “Of course, whatever I can do to help.” You say, softly.

“Great, Wheels up in 30.” She says, getting up, effectively ending the meet. Spencer watches you speed after her, files in hand to ask some more questions. Spencer’s walking back to his desk when Luke catches up with him.

“Y/N has a dark side. Who knew?” He says, smirking.

“Probably not.” Spencer muses. “She could’ve just known that. I mean, I just know stuff sometimes too.”

“Nah, I don’t think so. Her body language gave her away. She was flushing and stuttering sure, but she was confident in what she was saying. Almost as if, she was speaking from experience.” Luke laughs. “She may be all lollipops and candy bars here, but I bet behind closed doors, she’s handcuffs and gags.”

Spencer hums. “Maybe.” He says looking up to watch you walk back across the catwalk from Prentiss’ office. Luke was right though, your body language did give you completely away that you were talking from experience. Spencer couldn’t help but wonder just how much.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

When you arrive in New York, You head straight from the jet to the Police Station in Queens. You fiddle with your thumbs a bit, you are nervous.

“You ok?” Spencer says, from his spot in front of the bulletin board he was setting up. You were supposed to be helping him but you knew Spencer was particular about some things so you let him do it. In fact, there were a lot of things you’d let Spencer do. With you, to you, you weren’t picky. The man was gorgeous enough to make you nervous. With his lean muscles, long, fluffy hair, and large hands, he looked like something that walked right out of a wet dream of yours. Which sometimes, he was just that. You weren’t stupid though, you knew Spencer didn’t think of you that way. In fact, you didn’t think Spencer thought of you in any way. He seemed to ignore you anyway he could.

You look up from your laptop. “Oh yea, I’m fine. I’m just...nervous. I’ve never been in the field.”

“Chances are you won’t be, Emily will probably keep you in the Station if she can help it.” Spencer provides.

“I know, it’s just-- you know what I mean.” You say, Spencer nods before returning to the bulletin board. You stand to look at the map with him. “So, from what I was able to find there’s only 3 BDSM clubs in Queens but there’s only one in the middle of where the three women were found. Place called Cat’s Cradle.”

Spencer hums. “How complicated and unpredictable the machinery of life really is.” You look up at the man, recognizing the quote.

“There is love enough in this world for everybody, if people will just look.” You say back, shrugging.

“You read Vonnegut?” He asks.

“You said that like you’re more surprised that I can read than what I read being Vonnegut.” You say, Spencer shrugs not even denying it. God, he was such a dick sometimes. A hot dick, but a dick nonetheless.

The two of you turn when you hear a knock at the door to see the lead detective coming in to check on you guys. “Just wanted to see how things were coming along. Also see if you guys needed anything?” Though he only directed the question at you with a sly smirk on his face. Men were so obvious sometimes.

“Nope, we’re fine.” You smile although you didn’t want to. “We’ve narrowed down to a couple BDSM clubs so hopefully we’ll catch our guy soon.”

“Wait, you think these girls were…” He trails off. You nod, knowing what he was thinking. “Well, it probably serves them right.”

“Excuse me?” You say.

“Listen, I know what kind of girls go into those kinds of clubs. If they want to be sexual deviants, they can’t be surprised when shit like this happens to them.” He gestures to the board.

“Actually more women are into Dominant/Submissive as well as BDSM relationships than you would think, statistically 85%.” Spencer cuts him off. “These clubs are just commonplace for them to meet like minded people just like you would do in any other club and they should be put on trial after their deaths for trusting the wrong person. If you don’t mind, we’d like to get back to work, Detective.” He says, turning back towards the board. The man nods and leaves shortly after that.

“Thank you.” You say, softly.

“What for?” Spencer asks.

“Come on, I work with profilers and I’m not stupid. I know you guys know about me so thank you for defending me just now.”

“I wasn’t defending you.” Spencer says. “He was making inappropriate comments about victims and we don’t need that outdated way of thinking working on this case. Besides…” He says, eyes flickering down to your lips and back to your eyes. “You’re not the only one with… unconventional extracurriculars.” He turns and walks out after that leaving you watching after him.

What?

------------------------------------------------------------------

After delivering the profile, you find the Unsub, a man named Ivan Parke. The only thing left to do was find the best way to snuff him out. When the team is discussing the next best course of action. It’s then Luke comes up with the idea.

“We should send Y/N undercover.” He says. “She knows the profile and knows the most about the scene.”

Emily nods. “Is that something you’re comfortable with, Y/N.”

You look up. “Oh, um yea. I’d have to find a different outfit but you have to send someone with me.” You say, everyone looks at you confused so you sigh and explain yourself. “If you send me into a club like this, in a foreign place with no Dom, the Unsub isn’t going to be my only worry. Someone’s going to have to play my dominant.”

“I’ll do it.” Spencer speaks up. Your eyes widened, you were not expecting Spencer to agree to it, you assumed you’d be stuck with Luke. Now you’re going to have to spend the night with the man you’d been crushing on since you started working with the BAU as his submissive. Like that wasn’t a dream come true.

“Great.” Emily says, dismissing everyone and handing you an expense credit card for an outfit. You take it and leave immediately, ignoring the sly look Spencer gives you.

You ended with a short, low-cut black leather dress with tank-like sleeves that showed off your curves and left very little to the imagination. As well as a clear pair of platform heels. You pulled your hair back into a sleek ponytail and you topped the look with your own personal leather choker with a large circle knob in the center. It was one of your favorite pieces to wear though you never really got a chance to wear it unless you were going to clubs, which you didn’t do as often these days. It was an expensive piece sure, but so worth it when you got to wear it. You were doing your makeup a little darker then you usually do in the bathroom when Spencer comes in.

“Is this how you typically look on the weekends?” He asks, standing behind you in the mirror. You look up to look him in the eyes through it.

“If I have the time.” You shrug.

“It’s very different. You’re very different from how I thought you were.”

“And how did you think I was, Spencer?”

“Naive...innocent.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have assumed anything about me.” You say, turning towards the man.

“Maybe you’re right… That’s an expensive piece.” He points out pointing to your choker. “Emily’s going to have fun explaining that at the next budgetary hearing.”

“I didn’t buy it today.” You explain. “It’s mine.”

Spencer hums for a moment before lifting his hand to turn your jaw, examining the piece. You can’t help the way your breath hitches at the contact. Spencer was already so close to you and now he was touching you, it was already starting to be too much. Soon, Spencer is hooking two fingers into the circle knob of your choker and he yanks it. Involuntarily, a whimper falls from your lips, prompting a smirk from the man across from you.

“Tonight’s going to be fun.” He says before leaving you in the bathroom in a state of shock.

--------------------------------------------------------

After getting your comms set up by Luke, who tried to avert his eyes from your frame as much as possible, you and Spencer walk into the Cat’s Cradle. Typically you didn’t like the club scene, but you sometimes liked to venture out when looking for a new partner. Cat’s Cradle was definitely different than the other places you had been. Sure it still had the private rooms and the main stage where a scene was happening in front of you but it was a lot more laid back than the ones you went to in DC. Spencer was really enjoying his role too. Probably hamming it up too much because he knew there was a part of you that actually wanted him to. In the end, finding Ivan Parke was easy. He took the bait almost instantly and you were arresting him just as fast.

“Great work tonight guys.” Emily says, when you reach the hotel lobby. “Jet’s leaving at 7AM so make sure to get some rest.” She says, dismissing you.

Now begged a tricky situation because you had almost forgotten you and Spencer were rooming together. As you walked back to the room together the air was thick but both of you were silent. The tension had been building between the two of you since he yanked your choker in the station bathroom. You knew it was a matter of time. The dam had to break.

“You can shower first.” Spencer says. You nod, taking off your choker and grabbing clothes before taking solace in the bathroom. You wanted Spencer and you knew you needed to expedite this. After a much needed shower, you change into your pajama shorts and tank combo. Spencer steps into the shower almost as soon as you leave it. It’s then that you think of the perfect plan. You lay on the bed and spread your legs before slipping a hand down your shorts. You tease yourself at first, rubbing your clit through your underwear while you thought about the events of the night. How Spencer had been so authoritative. How his hand slid to the small of your back and sometimes ghosted your ass as the two of you walked around the club. How he had been so close in the bathroom. The way he yanked you closer. A small moan escaped you as you slid your hand in your underwear. Soon you hear the bathroom door open. Spencer stops short, watching you before leaning on the frame.

“Were you just touching yourself?”

“Yes.” You answer. “Are you gonna to do something about it?”

“Should I? Instead of telling me what you want you decide to act like a brat and do this.”

Spencer moves closer to the bed but doesn’t do anything, just continues to watch you so you decide to give him a show. Moaning loudly as you slide a digit inside of you. Spencer looks at you with hooded eyes. You can’t help the small laugh that leaves you.

“I think you’re going to give me what I want.” You say, smirking.

“And why’s that?” He says.

“You’re already weak.” You say.

“I’m weak, pretty girl?” He asks, incredulously. Before you know it, he’s ripping your hand out of your pants and crowding in the space between your legs forcing you to sit up and look at him. “You’re in here touching yourself to the thought of me like a horny teenager and I’m the one who’s weak? Ok.” He sits back and pulls you by your hips to sit on top of his lap, your legs straddling one of his thighs. “The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh, ok?” He tells you, starting to move your hips. You moan, nodding your head as the friction makes its way through your core. Spencer lifts your shirt off you and smirks when his eyes land on your bare breast. He leans forward to catch your left nipple in his mouth. Your back arches as you grind harder against his thigh. Your hands fly up to start unbuttoning his shirt when he stops you.

“Did I say you could touch yet, princess?” He asks.

“N-No, sir.” You stutter.

“Then keep your hands to yourself.” He says, putting your hands back to your side. He does indulge you by taking his shirt off himself. But that doesn’t help you keep your hands to yourself. You saw the lean muscle and craved to mark it up with your nails. Your hands go up to touch him again but he stops you.

“If I have to ask you again, I’m going to tie you up, Princess. Just be good, baby.”

You were already close before but now with Spencer’s hands and mouth everywhere and constant friction on your sex it was damn near pushing you off the edge.

“I’m gonna come.” You tell him, he grips your hips tighter, lifting his leg slightly so he was only rubbing against your clit. That makes you moan out loudly.

“Go ahead, Princess. Cum for me.” He says, and that was all you needed to fall right over the edge. Your legs shake and convulse as Spencer grips your hips help you ride it out. Soon you come down panting and he’s kissing into your neck. He pulls back and grips your jaw.

“Still think I’m weak, Princess?” He asks.

You knew it was unwise. In fact, you tried to stop yourself before you did it but it was too late. You reared your hand back and slapped Spencer across the cheek. Not hard enough to be seen as anything malicious but sharp enough to throw him off, like he couldn’t believe you had done it.

“Yes I do.” You say looking him in the eyes after. Something like a switch went off because there was no other way to describe the look he gave you other than feral and fully primitive. He pushes you off him.

“Get on your hands and knees, now.” He says, menacingly. You scramble and run to get into the position. Once in, Spencer forces your knees further apart. He angrily takes his belt off his pants before fashioning them into a makeshift cuff and pulling your wrist so they’re tied behind your back, leaving you face down into the mattress. He slides your shorts and underwear off in one go. You yelp loudly when the first slap comes to your behind. When the second and third slap comes, you try to squeeze your legs together to get some form of friction but Spencer forces your knees further apart. You moan out when you feel a digit slide against your folds. You try to push back on it but Spencer holds your hips in place.

“P-Please.” you stutter.

“What do you want, Princess?” He says, sliding a second digit inside you making you cry out more.

“Please, fuck me, Spencer.” You say, and you really didn’t have to ask twice because almost as soon as you ask Spencer’s hands leave you to finish unbuckling his pants. There’s a brief moment of calm, so calm that you almost think Spencer wasn’t going to give you what you want but that calm is interrupted by Spencer slamming into, no warning. You scream out but that’s only rewarded with your head being shoved more into the mattress to muffle your cries. Spencer’s hands are pulling on your cuffs so he is almost impossibly deep inside you. You moans start to get louder and louder. Suddenly, Spencer is pulling you up so you’re both sitting up, your back against his chest. One of his hands slides to grip around your neck while the other is moving to circle your clit. The hand around your neck tilts your jaw back so you’re looking up at the man behind you.

“Fuck, you feel so good. Open your mouth, Princess.” He orders, which you do instantly sticking your tongue out. Spencer leans forward and spits into your waiting mouth before locking his mouth with yours. His hand squeezes your neck tighter as you moan into his mouth as he starts fucking you faster, his dick hitting your g-spot almost every thrust. It’s not long before you’re just babbling, not even able to string a coherent sentence together.

“You gonna come for me, Princess?” He asks. You nod, moaning loudly. At this point, you knew there was no way the person in the room next to you guys didn’t hear you. You could only hope that it wasn’t one of the team. “Go ahead for me, baby. Be a good girl and come on my cock.” After that, it doesn’t take long before you’re falling over the edge, shaking all the while. Spencer fucks you through it before tightening his grip on your hips to bend you back forwards so your face is back on the mattress. He fucks you hard and fast before falling over the edge himself, moaning your name.

The two of you say nothing as he unties you. When he does, you instantly flop down on your back, breathing heavily. Spencer wordlessly gets up and goes to the bathroom. For a moment you think he’s just leaving you like this, that you were foolish to think Spencer cared anything about you but in that moment he comes back with a wet cloth and ointment. He says nothing as he wipes between your legs before tossing the towel aside. You watch him with a smirk on your face as he rubs the ointment on the red marks the red cuffs made on you.

He looks you in the eye. “What, Y/N?”

“What happened to Princess?” You say, Spencer just looks at you with a bored expression which only makes you smile more. “Now’s probably a good time for you to ask me to dinner.”

Spencer chuckles lightly at that. “You don’t want to go to dinner with me.”

“I’m almost positive I do. Why would you say that?” You ask.

Spencer looks you in the eyes at that moment. “I’m not-Y/N, I’m not like you.”

“Like me?”

“I’m not able to be cheery and smiley. I can’t float into rooms. I can’t be happy like you are, too much has happened to me. You deserve someone happy.”

“Spencer.” You say, looking him in the eyes. “You are not broken. You can be happy, it’s going to take time sure but I’m willing to be with you through that. If you want that.” You say.

Spencer nods. “Ok, Y/N.” he smiles.

“So….?”

He rolls his eyes at that. “What’re you doing next sunday?”

You smile, brightly. “Absolutely nothing.”

Perm. Taglist: @moonshinerbynight @crimeshowtrash

#spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer x you #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #bau x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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mossy-rainfrog · 4 years ago

Photo

[Image ID: A digital drawing of Martin and Jon in season 1 of the Magnus Archives. Martin is seen out in the archives hallway, through the doorway to Jon’s office. Martin a fat Black man with short coily hair, round glasses, and snake bite lip piercings. He wears a blue sweater over a white collared shirt, and carries a brown satchel with him. Martin is looking over his shoulder with interest as he walks into work, and in a smaller panel to the side, we see Jon watching him with wide eyes. Jon is a thin Persian person with long greying hair tied back in a low bun, and rectangular glasses. He wears a red button down underneath a brown jacket, and is seated at the desk in his office. He stares out at Martin, looking flustered. There are small lines by Martin’s mouth indicating the piercings, and there are exclamation marks by Jon’s head indicating his reaction. End ID.]

I found an old fic in my notes about Martin dressing alt/punk outside of work and accidentally leaving on a small indicator of his usual fashion when he comes into the archives and I just. had to bring it back. Also, because I am still fond of it, please enjoy the aforementioned fic🥰:

Jon is having a difficult morning, to say the least. He had believed that coming into work an entire hour early would provide him with ample time to get a head start on today’s organizing, but that has decidedly not been case. He’s already had to take the statements of two utterly ridiculous liars who could barely keep the grins off of their faces as they recounted their ludicrous tale, and then listen to Elias subsequently dress down his so-called ‘attitude towards patrons’ for nearly half an hour, and suffice it to say, he would really like to get started on something that is actually worth his time.

He dislikes settling down with the more... difficult statements before all of his colleagues arrive, an attempt to keep them from interrupting his recordings to greet him, so once he’s finished his other menial tasks, he finds himself simply sitting and waiting for the ensemble of his assistants to arrive.

Tim and Sasha are the first - entering together as usual after having stopped for coffee on the way in - but Martin is slow to follow, taking nearly another fifteen minutes to arrive. It’s nearly ten past seven at that point, and once Jon hears Martin’s steps coming towards his office, he has half a mind to give the man yet another lecture on punctuality and work ethic. He gets as far enough as bracing his hands on the table to stand up, and then Martin appears in the doorway to his office, and he realizes something strikingly different about his appearance.

That is to say, Jon’s whole world narrows down very suddenly to the little black studs decorating the space underneath his bottom lip.

He’s staring, he knows he is, but Martin is busy looking down the hall for the moment, so Jon doesn’t force himself to tear his eyes away just yet. How long has he had his lip pierced, Jon wonders? Has it been there the whole time he’s known him? Has he only recently gotten it done? How? Why?

It’s hard to imagine Martin - soft, unassuming Martin who is far too large for the amount of space he crams himself into, always slouching, always pulling himself inwards as if he can make himself disappear - dressing in any way other than soft sweaters and slacks, but if Jon’s honest, he’s never actually seen the man outside of work. He has no idea how Martin chooses to dress himself when out from under the Institute’s rigid dress code, and this tiny window he’s been provided with is making him maddeningly curious.

He’s not... he doesn’t have feelings for Martin, aside from a general annoyance, occasionally marked with curiosity. He’s a professional, for God’s sake, not to mention that Martin’s very existence as a given is like a grain of sand in his eye, rubbing and irritating. Now he cuts clean through without even noticing. Jon itches to know more.

“Jon?” Martin’s voice tears him from his thoughts. “Is something wrong?”

Oh, shit. Jon can feel his gaze heat up as if he’s done something horribly wrong - how embarrassing that he can’t even keep a blush off of his face - but he still forces himself to open his mouth and stutter out an excuse. He means to remark on one of Martin’s missing reports, or the fact that he’s coming in nine minutes late, but what ends up leaving his mouth is; “Your lip is pierced.”

Just a sentence, not a question. He thinks he’s positively beet red. Martin freezes, the tips of his ears darkening visibly against his brown skin as his hand shoots to his mouth and his eyes widen.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I must have forgotten to take them out,” the poor man looks like he’s about to panic as he whips his gaze around as if to see if anyone else has noticed. “Don’t tell Elias, please, I’ve seen how he gets after Tim for the dress code, and there is no way, I mean no way—”

“Oh, n-no, it’s- I- it’s fine, really,” Jon raises his hands in defense as Martin rambles, for some reason inclined to reassure the man. “I won’t- I’m not- I’m not going to tell him.”

Martin hesitates, wringing his hands, apologies visible on every pore of his face. “I- Thank you. I’ll- I’ll go take it off. Christ, that’s embarrassing.”

“Only if you want,” Jon shrugs, which is definitely not the correct thing for him to say as a boss, and it definitely comes out a little gentler than he intends it to, and Jon is three seconds from screaming if he can’t figure out how to make himself react normally to this. It’s a non-traditional piercing in an academic institute of research; it’s against the rules, however dated they may be, and further than that, there is no reason for it to completely undo his composure the way that it has. He tries to get a hold of himself. “I-I mean, that’s likely for the best.”

Martin is giving him a funny look - probably a response to seeing the whole spectrum of human emotions flash across Jon’s face in a millisecond - but he still nods and says: “Sorry again. Thank you,” and then disappears down the corridor.

Jon immediately buries his face in his hands and sighs.

What is wrong with him? For God’s sake, he’s just seen Martin with a lip piercing, it’s not like he’s witnessed the man undressed. Besides, he works in an archive where he has to read statements about the intricacies of monsters that rip off people’s skin and suchlike every day, he should know how to keep his composure better than this. He should just move on with his day and focus without a problem, just like he does every morning.

Except, his mind keeps wandering back to it; the way the little studs had followed the shape of his mouth, the way they had quirked up when he flashed one of his nervous smiles, the way Jon is still desperately curious about what brought him to get them done, and also what it might feel like to brush a thumb, or perhaps even his lips over them.

Jon sits up so fast his head actually smacks against an open filing cabinet behind him. His mind is too busy reeling to notice the ache that fills his head, and he stares straight ahead with wide eyes and utterly scorching cheeks. Absolutely not. He absolutely did not just think about kissing Martin Blackwood. that was- that would be...

He blinks hard, clears his throat. It doesn’t matter what that was. He’s decidedly not interested in Martin Blackwood romantically, or in any other capacity given his truly ridiculous academic competence and his obnoxious habit of interrupting seemingly every stable thing Jon has in his life. He crushes the feeling down hard, locks it up in a box, stuffs it down under his lowest two ribs, and resolves himself never to open it again.

He is not going to keep thinking about this all day. He has work to do, and if something as simple as a pair of metal studs can distract him this badly, then he needs to make absolutely certain it doesn’t happen again.

He tells himself he’s not disappointed when he sees Martin without the piercings later that day.

#the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #tma s1 #tma season one #martin with piercings my beloved #tma fic #tma fan art #mossy art #man i wrote this concept back in december but ohg i'm still so fond of it #alt/punk martin my angel my sweetheart my light and love #if you read this fic MWAH i love you

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kanawrites · 3 years ago

Text

Accomplice

Murderiplier x GN Reader

Unknowingly and unwillingly got yourself tangled up in a messy affair. For shame rookie.

Word Count: 1358

“Great work today everyone. Get some rest and come back 8 on the morrow for the debriefing”

It was almost midnight. Our work for the day had just finished and people were slowly filing out of the room tired. We went overtime today since our most recent case had left the entire department stumped. Whoever the killer was surely knows how to leave a mess with minimal clues about themselves. I stretch out and hear my bones crack and realize I was left alone with my senior investigator. Abraham was a cool and methodical man that has been in the business for about a decade now. Despite his intimidating stature (which I’d say is enhanced by the dark glasses he always wears), he’s a very caring individual.

“-and partner, the criminal was last spotted near your general area. Stay safe. If anything happens, call me.” He says, giving me a pat on the back before leaving the meeting room. I followed suit.

This is something I could never say to his face but I’ve always had a fascination with the dead. It may have been a major reason why I joined in the first place. I could always work in a morgue but seeing the bodies freshly decay while the blood is in the air and a mystery is yet to be solved, it’s a sick interest but I can’t help it.

Going up the flight of stairs of the apartment, I noticed that my downstairs neighbor’s door was wide open. It’s past midnight now and most other occupants are asleep. As far as I’m aware no one in the complex is crazy enough to leave their own door open this late and with fear of a murderer running loose. Filled with a burning sense of curiosity I quietly enter the room.

Their living space is dark, the lights in this and adjacent rooms are off. No lights are peeking out from under the doors. The TV is turned on but there’s only static, the noise grating my ears. The only lights helping me see in this place were the ones coming from the windows. Open doors, lights off, and a chilling silence, everything points to someone breaking and entering.

Clicking my tongue I fight off the urge to stupidly ask where the residents were. This isn’t a murder mystery book, don’t say something that would get you killed. Then again I came in here instead of calling Abraham or even the local police so shame on me. Even going back to my apartment would be better than this.

As I stand in the middle of the living room, I try to focus on any sounds that could tell me that the intruder is still around before I try to find the occupant. I could faintly hear the sound of metal on wood coming from the bedroom door. As soon as the sound finishes, the bedroom door opens with a loud creak. I tensed up and realized that there was no place for me to hide effectively.

Still, I hide behind the sofa, trying to buy some time. I fumbled my pockets and tried to send a quick SOS message to Abraham. The loud thump of their boots alerting me of their presence, I quickly pocketed my phone and reached out for my handgun.

I could feel a shiver go up my spine and quickly turned and pointed, I hope, in the right direction. A man stood there, one hand resting on the top of the sofa and the other holding a handkerchief. He was wearing rather dark clothing and my gun was pointed right at his chest where a gold necklace rests comfortably. I look higher and see a quizzical look on his face. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark round glasses but his eyebrows were visible and his mouth said it all.

“What the hell did you do?” I grit my teeth and tighten the hold on the gun. The safety lock was on and I didn’t have time to put in the ammo but I had hoped that my finger on the trigger would intimidate him enough. He wipes his face with the handkerchief and squats down, leveling with me.

“Put the gun away, little red” he smiled widely, baring his teeth as if introducing himself as the big bad wolf. “Are you mocking me?” I furrow my brows. “Not necessarily but it would be a shame to kill someone else that is not my target” he replied, pocketing the handkerchief. “Especially someone as horribly cute as you” He inches closer and I could see something shining from the corner of my eye. Before I knew it I pulled the trigger.

“Called your bluff” inches away from my own face, he takes the handgun and throws it behind him. I feel a cool sensation under my chin and it's most likely a knife considering the shine I saw earlier. One wrong move and I could be wounded or wound up dead. Damn it. I’m only hoping Abraham is on his way with the police right now.

“Now what to do with a pesky little rat” he presses the knife a tad bit harder. Enough for me to know that he’s serious but not enough to draw out blood. I tighten my fingers and breathe out. The metallic scent floods my senses and makes me realize I’d been holding my breath this entire time. It reminds me how I got myself in this mess in the first place.

“W-well, you can start by introducing yourself? Kind of rude to just uhh… cut me off” my voice quaked a bit and I almost wanted to cough. He may be a murderer but from our very brief interaction he seems to hold himself to a certain standard. Please for the love of god get here already Abe!

He loosens his grip and pulls away “Sorry but I don’t give out my name to just anyone. No matter how handsome and or beautiful they are”. The man looks unamused but his guard is down. “Then I’ll just call you Murdock” I’m really pushing my luck here.

“I’ll allow it-” Murdock was cut off mid-sentence when we heard police sirens blaring outside. He rushes up and peeks through the window. I got up from behind the sofa and went over to see bright red and blue lights flashing outside. A couple of officers came out and a black car arrived a little later where my senior stepped out. I glanced over to Murdock who was focused outside and let out a smirk.

“But it seems we’ve been reported already. Let’s continue this talk after we’ve escaped.” He grabs my hand and runs in the opposite direction. “We…?” He opened up a window which had the emergency stairs outside of it. “You’re my accomplice now. You’ve witnessed the crime and didn’t report it to the authorities.” Well about that…

“Feel free to be caught and beaten up by them” His words were sharp yet he’s standing on the other side, waiting for my answer. Despite wanting to run away from him and report everything that had happened, I felt a tug in my heart that hesitated. “Fuck it” I climb out and he helps stabilize me once I got out. “Good choice, little ray” I roll my eyes. “Where the hell are we going now, Murdock” I snapped back. “A place with many, many secrets” he starts to run while I try to follow close behind.

Down the metalwork, through the tight alley, as I follow him I think to myself. This night may have started out eerily and with myself in a losing position but this murderer kept me alive and made me his accomplice without knowing my background. I could become an informant, suck him dry, and rat him out later. Well this all worked out in my favor.

Suppressing a giggle, we finally stopped in front of a shady liquor store. He looks back to me and opens the door “After you”. Espionage isn’t my thing but this… this seems like a lot of fun.

Started writing on May 22 but the idea came earlier. Yeah I just called Mick’s character in this universe Abraham because it’s close to Abe and they have similar jobs so why not. Also no, you cannot change my mind. His full name to me is Mark “Murdock”.

The Little Red Riding Hood was written just as a replacement so I didn’t have to write Y/N but the more I thought about it I guess it does fit. Y/N=Little Red, Murdock=Wolf, unnamed dead character=Grandma, Abraham=The Huntsman. Except the story went awry. I also ended up making a joke. Little Red, Rat, Ray. I wonder what kind of 3 letter R nickname he’d give next lol.

#fanfic #markiplier #murderiplier x reader #actor mark x reader

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prof-peach · 4 years ago

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if fans wanted to include peach in stuff they write, would that be okay? and how would they write peach's personality? aside from "FIGHT ME" anyway, i think that much is a given lol. i only really write the anime characters 'cause that's what i know, but it sounds like it'd be kinda fun to try making a version of ash that fits into this blog's universe! nerf'd Obviously, but i think she'd probably appreciate how hands-on he gets when training his pokemon!

Ok, I get a lot of these messages, and I often hear folks wanting to throw peach into their stories and comics and writings, and I will always simply ask that if it’s published online publicly, to be linked to it so I can snoop and enjoy the content too. If someone asks about her in your work, let them know about the blog I guess? But literally I love that people take this stuff, these characters and stories, and make new stuff with it. No ones making money off my work here? So where’s the issue? Go for it buddy, knock yourself out, I’m all for it.

For you, and all the others out there who want to add peach, and other characters to your world building, I will give you a detailed rundown of the main lot, and how they behave, what they do, how they function. You can use that, use bits, or use none of it, I do not mind at all. If you’re creating something, you’re in control, not me.

So, peach doesn’t actually fight people as much as you’d think. She’s very aware most cannot and do not want to do that, and so she likes to keep to herself with regards to that aspect of her life, she doesn’t ask to spar with people, or even bring it up at all, but people ask her all the time, even if they clearly would lose or become hurt should she miscalculate during the fight. She looks at people like they usually create problems, and often has a somewhat reserved nature to other humans. You have to work quite hard to get anything more than formalities out of her. She will dead-pan handle people with blunt and very to-the-point statements, aid whenever possible, but very quickly get back to handling the Pokemon she so carefully tends. Her focus is clear, she’s all about hard work, her very small select family, and the Pokemon.

Her brutal, loud and brash personality only comes out with friends, family, difficult humans, OR any Pokemon. She will joke and laugh and play with Pokemon, but clam up around humans, maintaining tight body language and generally will be a little cold by regular standards. She does however have some weaknesses in this emotionless shield she puts up. When peach was young she was always angry, which swung so fast to sadness, back and forth. Her teenage years it just got worse and worse, it was crippling at points. She is to this day, full of fire and rage, even sadness, but now she has learnt to control it, to use it. When she sees that in others, it’s familiar, and she is pushed to drop the front, and be very real with the person. Underdogs I suppose, people who get bad reps, but deserve the same as everyone else. She can’t ignore it.

Once you start to pry open her personality, you’ll find she’s a lot more laid back and fun than originally appeared, you just have to work hard to find that side of her. She will meme reference, can’t dance to save her life, loves her coffee, and can be caught in quiet contemplation while gardening. This hobby is her calmest, and often is why she can stay so level headed when her quiet rage boils up again. Without time outside she will become grouchy, a little snippy, and lethargic. Will not go in the ocean for any reason other than life or death, is fine with ponds and rivers, or water at wading height. Likes the rain.

With regards to her training others, they usually have to tolerate her somewhat strict nature. She is a little....unforgiving, holds a grudge if you make a lot of mistakes, and has no tolerance for ignorance in the age of information that we all live in. In previous posts I’ve mentioned she’s only recently selected two students, after many years of testing kids who want to learn from her. Hundred tried out, only two have ever been approved. How she teaches is very fast paced, be prepared to get some scrapes and bruises, she will test your physical and emotional tolerances with intense tasks, carefully watching students like a hawk. Bad posture in your stance? She’ll be the first to tell you to sort it out. Not hearing your Pokemon partner? Right, now you spend the day without using words trying to communicate, let’s see how you like not being listened to.

This is a woman who has spent her life saying very little, and watching everything, she watches Pokemon and can see an issue from a mile off, and in battles, her observations are why she can react fast, and chose effective strategy to avoid damage and achieve results. Don’t let her body fool you, her strongest asset is analysing, watching, planning. Those skills have over the years transferred to people too. As a student, mistakes don’t go unnoticed with this professor.

Her methods are harsh but fair, and should you prove yourself, she will protect you with her life.

Because of her disinterest in kids and lots of noise, she does pass the training of students on to the other staff members whenever possible. Grey takes on the lions share of battle lessons, he is far calmer, more open and friendly, with patience for people, and an empathy that peach sometimes struggles to have. When you go through a lot of harsh training, and difficult events, it’s hard to change how you feel or think, with peach, well, she’s been through it. Most do not come out the other end in one piece, but she did, and it made her strong. You may think I mean strong like buff and big, and yeah sure she is, but I mean it mentally more than anything. Peach will not quit. She has learnt to destroy the boundaries that stop people getting hurt, gone is the fear that freezes you in your tracks, that feeling that you’ll pass out if you go one more step. She’s learnt to ignore it.

This means she’s a little forgetful at how it is to be normal, to be vulnerable and soft and squishy like students so usually are.

She has her issues, but for the most part, visitors get a laugh, a smile, a calm assertive confidence, and facts. She will indulge those who have genuine interest, or show a connection with nature, an understanding of the balance that needs to be struck for everyone to live well together.

Despite her many flaws, she’s fiercely protective, and will go above and beyond to defend the island, it’s staff, the Pokemon and the visitors. Injustice is her biggest gripe, along with littering, and she doesn’t stand by quietly if something happens that seems unfair.

You will not see her without Valka, her vulpix, close by. That Pokemon doesn’t like to be touched by strangers, at all, and will run the second someone comes at her with that intent. Peach will scold you for pushing yourself onto her, should you persistently try to get close to pet Val. They are in sync, if peach is sad, Val is sad, if Val is stressed, peach is stressed, and so on. They are inherently connected, it’s just been that long, the psychic bridge between them has been built, and reinforced over the years.

The only other Pokemon who follows her so endlessly is Booker, a teddiursa who’s pretty rough looking. He quietly trots behind, grouchy and stoic, they fight closely together a lot. He lost his mom a long time ago to poachers, and peach took him in, and changed her whole life for him. Not many people know, but Booker was the reason she left the rangers, changed career, and got so strong. Will tolerate people petting him but isn’t keen at all, grumbles a lot and tries to move away.

You may also need to know about the others, for the sake of writing, she here a few more bits that may be important to you, or others wanting to do this.

Grey is very tall, very burly, composed, tells bad dad jokes, is a bit of a goof if allowed to be. If he sees a pun, he’ll say it. Can’t help himself. Very nice guy to work with, good at keeping people calm and grounded. Pokemon are drawn to him like a moth to a flame, he gives off warm energy, and has inhuman amounts of patience. If you wrong his family however, he will snap back.

He grew up in the city, loves to swim and hike and cycle, can snowboard, is really sporty. A total brain box with held items, and boosting stats. He will explore many paths, to make sure visitors and students get the information they need, in a way that can be remembered and retained for later. Is a huge guy, but will get on the floor to play with a tiny Pokemon. Treats big “meaner” looking species like babies, very good with all pokemon.

His free time is spent either tinkering, swimming, or trimming his bonsai trees. This guy stares at screens a lot, so appreciates time away from them. Peach built him his own little greenhouse for his trees and tools, which he keeps clean and loves dearly.

His methods as a teacher are built around fun and games, he makes hard work easier to do by distracting trainers from the difficult bits, and focusing in on something more interesting or compelling.

His most commonly seen Pokemon would be a houndoom, Saxon, old battle veteran, retired now to herding and being a good boy. Very gentle, loves a pet.

Pari, now a fully fledged nurse, often oversees the labs front desk and pokecentre features, such as healing pokemon, and informing trainers who come to visit. Her skills with eggs and hatchlings is high, she’s great with younger Pokemon, and hands out good advice to trainers a lot. She’s not a fighter, never was, but can find any file, any study, any book, and any refrence you may need. A true bookworm, loves her romance novels, chat shows and upbeat celebrity gossip mags. Will cry at a lot of stuff, be it sad or happy.

She’s got a seriously upbeat personality, but if caught off guard or shocked, she gets a little flustered. Too much chaos will overwhelm her, but usually she’s on top of things. The years spent on the island have made her better at maintaining composure in emergencies. With lots of siblings, she’s very competent with others, and has a good ability to disarm cagey people with her jolly nature. Because of this, she can sometimes gain information from trainers that some of the more harsh professors may not have access to. Charming is a word for it.

Her partners are an eevee, and a happiny. They are quite sweet and well adjusted, the eevee gets a bit bouncy if you get it too excited.

#if you dont want to use the refs #im really cool with it #just enjoy yourself buddy #pokemon #prof.peach #peach talks #prof.grey #pari #dotaku island #dotaku staff #PLEASE #just ask me if you dont know something #or feel i missed something in what i wrote

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babycharmander · 4 years ago

Text

If you think you have never stolen artwork, read this post.

So, art theft. If you've been a follower of mine, you've heard my barely-coherent rants about this before, but I thought it might be more productive to make a more coherent post on the subject.

If you're wondering about the title of the post here, it's because I feel like a lot of people aren't really grasping what exactly art theft is, and a LOT of people, even well-meaning ones, do it without even realizing it.

"But wait," you say. "I would never STEAL from an artist!! I never claim it as my own!" And that's all fine and good, but you're missing something here.

To start things off, what IS art theft? (It's not what deviantART said it was several years back, I'll tell you that much. *cough*)

We all know what art is, so let's talk about theft. Dictionary.com defines "theft" as "the act of stealing; the wrongful taking and carrying away of the personal goods or property of another; larceny." Okay, makes sense, but what about that other word there, stealing? Dictionary.com defines "steal" as "to take (the property of another or others) without permission or right, especially secretly or by force."

From those definitions, we can go on to define art theft as, specifically, "taking art without permission or right." In the context of art, that typically involves reposting it (not reblogging--reblogging is different) or using it for other things.

And there, my friends, is the issue.

If something is taken or used without permission, it is stolen. Permission is the important thing here--if an artist says "oh yeah, you can go ahead and use this!" then it's not stolen. You have their permission. But if you DON'T have that, then it IS stolen. It IS theft.

"But I'm not claiming it as my own!" you say. But you don't have to claim it as your own--the act of taking it in and of itself is an act of theft.

"But I said 'credit to the artist!'" The "credit" thing is a whole other conversation, but here's the short of it: The entire point of credit is to direct people to the source of something. If you are not directly linking to where you got the art from, you are not giving credit. "Credit to the artist" is not actually credit of any kind whatsoever. (Also, Google and Pinterest are not sources.)

"But I DID link back to the artist!" Okay, now this is where it may get confusing, because you may think you're covered because you actually did give credit. Here's the problem: if you reposted it or used it without permission, regardless of whether you gave credit or not, it's still stealing.

I'm bolding this because it's a point that a lot of people get tripped up on. Let me explain it this way: If you went into your neighbor's house and took something of theirs without their permission, but you told people "oh yeah, I got this from [neighbor]'s house!" that that would still, of course, be stealing, and it's no different for art.

Another thing is that even when you credit, people don't always check the source. Very recently I found a case where someone had reposted a piece of artwork of mine to Pinterest that was deliberately made to look like it came from the source material (it wasn't meant to confuse anyone, though--the description of my original post made it very clear that it was fanart). The person who reposted had linked back to my original post. The problem? The comments had people asking if this was official, where it happened in the source material, etc. Despite the fact that the source was right there, no one thought to look at it.

Even if you link back to the source, if you did it without the artist's permission, it's still stealing, and still causes problems for us artists.

"But I just posted it to my Pinterest--" DO NOT DO THIS. DO NOT POST AN ARTIST'S WORK TO PINTEREST IF YOU DO NOT HAVE THEIR EXPLICIT PERMISSION TO DO SO.

"But this artist friend of mine says they're okay if I post their work to my Pinterest so long as I link back to them!" Good for your friend! But the fact that your friend is okay with it doesn't mean that all artists are okay with it. For me, personally, I am very not okay with my work being posted to Pinterest, and say as much on my art blog description and posts (which people tend to ignore).

The problem with Pinterest--and reposting art in general--is that we artists don't know when it happens unless we're told, or unless we find it ourselves. It causes us to lose control of our art. And because of this, our art can spiral further out of our control, because when our works get posted to Pinterest or other similar websites, people who have no grasp whatsoever on how art works will just take it as "free art" and then use it for whatever they want.

That's how a piece I spent 20+ hours on was used as a poster for a paid event, without my permission, and without any payment or credit to me.

If an artist has said nothing about Pinterest (or other similar image sharing sites), your default should be to assume that they don't want their artwork posted there.

"Well I didn't repost someone's art, but I did use it for my avatar/RPing icon/video/fic cover/photo edit--" That's still stealing. If you're using it without their permission for any reason, that is stealing. Not to mention, the artist may not be cool with what you're using their art for anyway. (Looking at you, people who use platonic art in your shipping videos.)

“I MEANT to ask them for permission, but I forgot!” This can ONLY happen if you used the artwork BEFORE you asked for permission. You can resolve this by asking for permission BEFORE you use it, rather than assuming the answer will be “yes” and using it before asking.

"But it took me a really long time to make that icon/video/cover/edit!!" How long do you think it took the original artist to draw their piece? It doesn't matter how much work you put into modifying someone else's art--if you're doing it without their permission, you're still stealing.

"But I couldn't find the original artist! I tried to find them, I really did, but I couldn't. Is it okay to use their art then?" No, because you still don't have permission, and by reposting it anyway, you’re continuing to make the artwork spiral out of their control.

"What if I found the artist, but they speak a different language from mine? I can't ask them for permission, so is it okay if I repost their art anyway?" NO!! DO NOT DO THIS!! If there is a language barrier, use Google translate or find someone to translate for you and get a hold of the artist that way to ask them for their permission. The language barrier is NEVER an excuse to steal artwork. There are plenty of non-English-speaking artists who have taken ALL OF THEIR ARTWORK OFFLINE because the art theft was completely out of control. (And this isn't just exclusive to English-speakers stealing art from people who don't speak their language. It happens artists who don't speak English stealing art from English-speakers, too, but as this post is written in English it doesn't do much good for me to rant about this here.) If you can’t ask their permission, do not use it!!

"But what about reblogging?! Isn't that the same as reposting?? Should we not reblog art at all then?" No, reblogging (or retweeting) is not the same as reposting. If you reblog art, you keep all the information that we attached to the art, including our blog name and the description attached to the art. Reblogging/retweeting actually helps us artists A LOT, so as long as you're reblogging from the original artist (and not someone who's reposting their art), by all means, reblog our art!

"What if I just want to share someone else's artwork on Discord or show it to a friend?" This one's a bit different and is not actually as problematic. If you want to share our work on Discord or whatever, just link directly to where we posted it. Please don't post the art itself, unless you're doing it alongside a link because Discord won't show a preview or something.

"What about a forum or a site like Reddit?" This one's a bit different, since due to the way Reddit functions, if you LINK to the art, you have to go directly to the artist's original page to view it. (At least, that’s what it’s like the last time I was active there.) In a way it's roughly the same as with Discord--be sure you're linking directly to the actual post rather than just uploading the art on its own--but I would also ask the artist if they're okay with it, because they may be a member of the subreddit or forum and want to post it themselves, or they might not want their work shared to specific communities. (Some communities have a function where a bot will repost the artwork to Imgur, and some artists don't want that done with their art.)

"What if I'm saving it to my computer/phone to look at later, or making it into my desktop/phone wallpaper?" IMO this is fine, since your computer/phone files aren't public, and neither is your wallpaper. It's only a problem when you post it to public places without our permission.

"What if it's art I commissioned?" Well... like... in that case, it's art you paid for, so unless the artist you commissioned laid out very specific terms for you, you should be good to use that art. Like, at most, the artist may ask you to credit them somewhere in your blog description if they drew your icon or something, or credit them in a fic description if you commissioned a fic illustration from them, or something to that effect. It's really something you should have already worked out with the artist beforehand, but for the most part you should probably be fine to use art you paid for however you like.

"What about art I requested?" This is a bit different from commissioned work. Just because the art was drawn at your request doesn't mean it's explicitly yours (unless it's like, a drawing of your original character or something). Some artists take requests more as suggestions, so the art they draw in response to a suggestion or request is still theirs. Treat this as you would any other artwork and ask the artist for permission first before you do anything with the artwork you requested from them.

“What about NFTs?” ... Okay this one I can’t really go over too much because I barely understand it in the first place, but NFTs are BAD for artists and are a form of art theft. Do not turn people’s art into NFTs. This is a crappy thing to do. (If you want more information on this one, you’ll have to look it up yourself. It’s a form of cryptocurrency and it’s confusing.)

“If you don’t want your art stolen you shouldn’t post it in the first place.” This is fascinating logic. Try applying it to something else and see how it holds up. “If you don’t want your merchandise stolen, you shouldn’t open a booth.” “If you don’t want to get poisoned you shouldn’t eat food.” “If you don’t want to get punched in the face, don’t walk outside.” Yes. Flawless logic. Truly.

"Why do you care so much, anyway?! I'm sharing your art because I like it! That's a compliment! Shouldn't you be happy?" Well, we're certainly glad you like our art, but the problem is... as I've said before, reposting our art causes us to lose our control over it. When we lose control of our art, that damages our livelihood. As I said before, other people have made money off of my artwork. As well, some artists lose jobs because when their potential employers check out their portfolio, they may find artwork that's been reposted everywhere online, so they cannot hire the artist because they believe they may have stolen the artwork in their own portfolio.

Your reposting an image you thought was cute to Facebook or Pinterest could cost an artist their job. Think about that.

So, tl;dr, keep this in mind: you need the artist's permission to repost or use their artwork. If you do not have it, it is stealing, even if you credit the artist.

I know this post is really harsh in places, but this is such an important thing for all artists, and there's so many misconceptions about art theft online. And I feel like one of the biggest problems is that when some people see posts on art theft, they ignore them, because they think they've never done it or would never do it, so that's why I worded this post the way I did. I'm not trying to hurt anyone--I just want people to understand what art theft is, how it affects us artists, and how you can avoid it. Thank you for reading.

#long post #psa #drawing #art theft

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ssahoodrathotchner · 4 years ago

Text

Pictures of You

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Summary: you lose your memories of the last few years, including the ones of your relationship with Aaron. The rest of the team thinks it’s hilarious.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: memory loss, swearing, some angst, hospital, talk of injuries, team shenanigans and fluff

A/N: okay this was a lot of fun to write bc soft!Hotch rights !! also really wanted to make the team play a larger role in a fic so here we go :)

Masterlist

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You wake in a hospital bed, Morgan by your side, and a godawful pounding in your cloudy head. With a groan, you try to raise one of your hands to cover your eyes as Morgan’s head shoots up to stare at you with a relieved smile.

“Hey,” he says, catching your hand before you can lift it higher, “Don’t do that. You had a nasty fall, Princess.”

Satisfied that you won’t make any more moves towards your head, he sits back down at your side.

“Should I even ask how you’re doing or…” he trails off when you glare at him. “I’ll go let the team know you’re okay. Boss Man will be happy to hear you finally woke up,” and with that, Morgan is up and out of the room before you can even open your mouth because what.

Shifting around in the bed, you try to gauge just how injured you are, but the soreness in literally your entire body coupled with the haziness in your mind from the constant pain makes you conclude that you’ll leave it to the doctors to tell you what’s wrong. Sighing, you gently tilt your head to the side and observe the various beeping monitors.

The door opens and as you turn to see who it is, your mouth opens in disbelief. There’s no way. There’s absolutely no fucking way. This is fake. This is a dream. Your stomach simultaneously drops and fills with dread. How is this possible?

“You’re dead. You’re dead. We buried you,” you say in a rush, as none other than Emily fucking Prentiss stops by the side of your bed, looking at you confusedly. “Does this mean I’m dead? Are you a ghost?” you wonder out loud, and Emily looks behind her as the rest of the team, except Hotch, file in behind her, seemingly fine with her sudden appearance.

“How are you here, why are you here, what happened? You died. You’re supposed to be dead which means I’m probably dead,” you continue to ramble, frantically looking from at each member of your team and then back to Emily.

“What? Y/N, you aren’t dead. Just like I’m not dead,” she says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“But you are,” you say shakily, chest tightening as your breaths become shorter and shorter.

“Y/N…” she says slowly, softly, “I faked my death four years ago.”

And with that, your ears rush and your mind goes blank. No no no no no no we buried her six months ago, she’s dead. You don’t notice the rest of the team trading glances around you as the world you thought you knew shatters and reforms in your mind.

“No,” you croak, throat suddenly constricting, but Emily only looks at you worriedly, Reid slipping out the door behind her.

“Y/N, can you take some deep breaths for me?” and your head turns to find JJ at your other side, hand on your shoulder. “Let’s breathe, you can do this,” she says, taking exaggerated breaths to demonstrate, smiling gently as you cooperate.

Reid enters, now, followed by a doctor who, immediately upon reaching your side, proceeds to shine a light in your eyes and asks you to complete all sorts of short tests while the team looks on.

“Now, Agent Y/L/N, Dr. Reid informed me that you seem to be having some memory issues, which is normal,” the doctor assures you, “especially with the head trauma you endured. So, tell me what you can remember and we’ll go from there,” he says with a helpful smile.

Fuck. What do you remember?

“Well…” you trail off, trying to pin-point an exact moment. “I remember Emily—Agent Prentiss’—funeral because it was six months ago, but apparently—” your eyes slide over the rest of the team, “—apparently, it was more like four years ago,” you finish slowly.

“And that’s as recent as you can remember?” the doctor pushes. You nod your head. “Well, Agent Y/L/N, it seems that you have post-traumatic retrograde amnesia, which isn’t a surprise, as I said before. My guess is that it’s temporary, and that you’ll recover your memories in time.”

“Any ideas how long?” Emily speaks up, carefully looking at your face.

“With cases such as these, there isn’t a definite timeline or standard procedure for memory recovery,” the doctor explains. “It may help to look at photos or videos and tell stories to try and help Agent Y/L/N heal quicker, but the brain is tricky,” and with that wonderful statement, the doctor turns and exits, leaving you and your team staring at each other, processing the fact that you don’t know when you’ll get your memories of the last four freakin’ years back.

“So, from the research I’ve done, it seems that—” Reid is cut off by the door flying open and Aaron Hotchner, your Unit Chief, bursting into the room with a concerned look on his face wearing a hoodie and jeans.

Morgan tries to grab his shoulder, but Hotch shakes him off as he walks right up to your bedside and grabs your hand. Holy shit. Heat rises to your cheeks instantly and you think your heart might have actually skipped a beat but, you can’t help it, you’ve had a crush on Hotch for ages and he’s holding your hand. But you don’t remember a time when Hotch was so forward in showing concern for one of his agents.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up, Sweetheart—” you’re pretty sure you’re dreaming because Hotch has never called you Sweetheart. Ever. You’ve also never seen him in anything other than a suit. “—Jessica called because Jack has the flu and then he wanted to talk to me and—”

“Hotch!” Morgan all but yells, interrupting Hotch’s update on Jack, as you stare pointedly at his hand, still holding yours, trying to control the redness growing steadily stronger in your cheeks. What the hell.

“Hotch,” Morgan states, softer this time, “The last thing Y/L/N remembers clearly is Prentiss’ funeral.”

You look up with a weak approximation of a smile, and watch Hotch’s face shift as he comprehends what Morgan said.

“That was years ago,” he says slowly, face hardening into a look you’ve seen too many times when he tries to separate himself from the information he’s received.

Looking down at you, you can’t tell what he’s thinking, so you divert your eyes to his hand in yours. Once he notices this, he gently lets go and you know it’s silly, but you almost reach out for it again. Who knows the next time Hotch will want to hold your hand?

“So you don’t…” he doesn’t finish his question, which leaves you even more confused. Don’t what…?

“Umm. If it’s happened in the last four-ish years, then umm… Then I probably don’t remember it,” you say quietly, apologetically. “Sir,” you add on quickly, not wanting to forgo formalities even if your memory isn’t what it’s supposed to be.

However, instead of nodding, like you thought he would, Aaron Hotchner looks sad which confuses you even more.

“Aaron,” Rossi begins slowly, “the doctor said that talking about what’s happened since then may help Y/N’s memory come back.” Hotch looks up, almost relieved. “So why don’t you tell her something that’s happened since Prentiss’ funeral.”

And with that, Hotch takes a breath before reaching across your body to your other hand and holding it up. Not quite sure what’s happening, you allow him to hold your left hand up in your line of vision and that’s when you notice a fucking wedding ring. On your hand. Which Hotch is holding.

“I’m married?” you screech, looking at the team, who are now all trying not to laugh for some reason. “Who am I married to? Holy shit, what?” you continue looking around. Morgan and Prentiss look like they’ll break into outright laughter any minute. What’s going on?

Looking helplessly to Hotch, who is suspiciously quiet, you don’t have to repeat your question before he is carefully letting go of your left hand to hold his own up next to it and since when did Hotch wear a wedding band? Until you notice the striking similarities between the ring on your hand, and the one on your boss. What the actual fuck.

“We’re married?” you say, whipping your head to the side—ouch—to stare at Hotch, who is looking a little more amused than worried. “What? When? I just…” you can’t even finish your train of thought because your head is spinning so fast.

“Is it really that much of a surprise, Princess?” Derek chimes in. “I mean, you guys have been in love with each other forever,” and with that, he and Prentiss dissolve into a fit of laughter, which they try to smother, but you’re too busy taking in this very new and very interesting life development.

At some point in the last couple years, you married Hotch. Which means he knows you like him. And he likes you. You dated Hotch and now you’re fucking married. And you can’t remember any of it.

“…I don’t remember it…” you say sadly, softly and the laughter ceases.

Running a hand through his hair, Hotch takes a step back and shrugs, a small, reassuring smile on his face.

“We’ll figure it out, Sweetheart—” your stomach erupts into butterflies, “—we always do.”

With a sigh, you sink back into the pillows on your bed and stare at the ceiling, head throbbing worse than before thanks to all the new information.

“I just…” you pause to think about your current dilemma. “I just don’t know where to start with all this…Getting my memory back,” you look to Hotch and then the team, unsure of what to do.

“Well, the doctor did say that photos and videos might help. I’d be willing to recount every conversation we’ve had since Emily’s funeral, if you want, including the ones that you weren’t a part of, but were about you or a case,” Reid offers with a grin, and your heart melts.

Slowly shaking your head, you answer, “Thanks but maybe later, Spence. I’m still stuck on the whole I’m-married-to-my-boss thing right now.”

“Trust me Princess,” Derek laughs “I’m pretty sure all of us could tell you about how everything went down like a damn movie.”

“Yeah…” JJ continues with a fond shake of her head, “You guys weren’t very subtle about it.”

Sneaking a look out of the corner of your eye, you catch Hotch blushing and staring down at his shoes before he also sneaks a look at you, meeting your eyes.

“See?” Derek’s voice breaks your gaze. “This is exactly what I was talking about. You guys weren’t subtle and still aren’t,” rolling his eyes, he laughs a little and you can’t help but smile.

“At least they’re married this time around,” Rossi supplies. “No more ‘secret’ glances and yearning,” he says with such contempt you can’t help but laugh as Hotch—Aaron? — lets out a small chuckle of his own.

“Now I just need to remember how we got here,” you say, feeling a little more at ease. Slowly, you reach for Hotch’s left hand, studying the ring the matches your own. “Remember us,” you continue, just to him, and the smile that overtakes his face is the best thing you’ve seen since waking up.

“You weren’t wrong, Morgan,” comes Emily’s voice from the end of your bed. “This is just like a movie. Ugh. But don’t worry, Y/N, we’ll help you sort this out.”

“And I know just the woman for the job,” Morgan adds with a mischievous smirk which immediately makes you wonder about whatever it is he has planned.

“Now as much as I’d love to watch the two lovebirds gaze into each other’s eyes, I actually have plans,” Rossi states, looking down at his watch. “So, I’ll be back tomorrow. Have a good night, Y/N,” he says before waving to the rest of the team and leaving.

The rest of the team makes their own excuses to leave, and you can’t help but feel like Morgan and Prentiss have concocted some sort of scheme to “help” you get your memories back.

Running a hand over your face, you sigh. What now? The sound of someone clearing their throat makes you look up and realize that Hotch hadn’t left with the others, but was instead standing near the foot of your bed, looking somewhat anxious.

“I ummm… I was planning on spending the night here to make sure you were okay, but umm…” he trails off, unsure.

“But since I have no memory of us being together you think it’s weird…?” you ask gently.

“Yeah,” he answers in a sigh. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by being here, especially because I know how frustrating and confusing this must be for you…”

“Hotch,” you start, but he can’t hide his wince when you call him that. “Aaron,” you try again. “Yes, this is incredibly confusing and frustrating because Emily should be dead and I didn’t think you had feelings for me at all,” you pause and see him smile, just a bit, “But I’d really like it if you stayed here. With me. Because—” you take a deep breath. “—Because you make me feel safe, Aaron, and I need that right now,” you say gently, not quite sure where the confidence came from, but Aaron’s eyes soften and his smile grows bigger as his shoulders drop in relief. Worth it.

“Then I’ll stay,” he says, and you can’t help the heat that once again rises in your cheeks as he continues to look at you.

You guys are married, dammit. Pull it together.

Averting your gaze, you turn your attention to getting more comfortable in your bed and decide to fuss with the placement of your pillows because damn was your back starting to hurt, but Aaron beats you to it. Within ten seconds of arranging the pillows behind you, he has them perfect.

“How…?” you start to question, but he just raises his eyebrows. “Right. Married,” you say with a shake of your head.

Aaron finally sits in the chair next to your bed and reaches, almost absentmindedly, for your hand before catching himself and stilling. You can see the fight in his mind—he wants to comfort you and himself, but with your memory, he doesn’t quite know where your boundaries are. Taking pity on him, you grab his hand yourself, weaving your fingers together so he knows it was on purpose. Okay so you really just wanted to hold his hand again, but you’re married! You’re allowed. He takes a deep breath and leans back in the chair, turning his head to really look at you.

“How’s your head?” he asks, brow furrowed in what you’ve come to understand is genuine concern.

You pause and consider for a moment.

“Not terrible, but not great,” you say slowly. “It’s like there’s a fog in my mind that I can’t see through. I know I’m missing stuff, but I just don’t know what.”

Aaron gently squeezes your hand, but doesn’t speak yet.

“I want to know what brought Emily back, how we happened, what it was that gave me this fucking injury, I just…” with an exasperated huff, you collect yourself. “I just want to know.”

“Well, Emily should be the one to tell you her part of the story, and as for us,” he gives you a smile “it’s a longer answer, at least for me, so that will have to wait—Sorry, Sweetheart,” he says when you pout. “However, I can tell you about what landed you in the hospital. How does that sound?”

“It’s a start,” you tease, and yes Aaron smiles wider and rolls his eyes.

“We were chasing an unsub, and Garcia had tracked him to a warehouse not too far from Quantico. We went there and—” his voice wavers. You squeeze his hand. “—and the unsub had set explosives around the perimeter of the building. I guess you got too close to him when trying to talk him down and he triggered the whole set.” Aaron sighs, and his eyes are glazed over like he’s reliving this—which he probably is—and there’s nothing you can really do besides let him take his time.

“You weren’t right by any of them, but you were thrown back and had hit the ground before I could even yell at you to stop—not that you would have listened,” he says pointedly with a watery laugh. “You just laid there, Morgan and I carried you over to the medics as soon as the dust settled and they took you away as we cleared the rest of the scene.”

“And the unsub?”

“He didn’t survive the explosion. As soon as we figured that out, we left it to the local PD and crime scene techs.” He looks at you softly. “We came straight here after that.”

“How long was I out before today,” you ask lightly, curiously.

“Three days. Dave had to convince me to go home and shower on the second day.” He looks down before sneaking a sideways glance at you.

“Well I’m glad he did,” you tease, scrunching your nose.

“And I’m glad you’re awake, Sweetheart,” he replies, squeezing your hand.

You laugh and look away before mumbling, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

“Get used to what?” he waits a second. “Sweetheart?” Motherfucker. He knows what he’s doing.

“That! I woke up convinced you didn’t have feelings for me at all,” you say with a glare, “and now I know we’re married and you keep being so nice and understanding and calling me Sweetheart and I just don’t know how to deal with all of this!” you finish in a huff.

“I just feel bad that I can’t remember this, us” you add, gesturing between the two of you. “I’m trying and there’s just—” you make a frustrated noise and flop back to stare at the ceiling. “And my head still kind of hurts,” you add softly, almost pouting.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Aaron whispers. He clears his throat before continuing. “You’ll get your memories back,” he leans forward to stroke some hair off your forehead. “And until then, you know the team and I will do what we can to catch you up and help you remember.”

You push your head further into his hand with a sigh. He runs his hand through your hair a few times before pulling back and you almost whine. You yawn instead. Settling down, you tug the blanket up higher across your chest and turn to face Aaron as he also gets comfortable. He turns on the small television in your room and at some point, you fall asleep holding his hand.

---

You wake to the sound of the door opening, followed by the unmistakable click-clack of heels worn by none other than Penelope Garcia.

“Rise and shine! Time to regain your memory, lovely Y/N,” she sings, coming to a stop by the side of your bed as you roll over with a yawn.

“Pen—” you groan. “Let me sleep. Please.”

“Oh no, my little profiler. Do you have your memory back?” You shake your head. “Then we need to work on that! And don’t you dare tell me no; my wonderful Derek Morgan and I were up all night making this for you,”

You raise your eyebrows.

“Sadly, not like that. But, we compiled a presentation-slash-video montage for you about what you’ve missed!”

That catches your attention.

“Wha--? How? Penelope where did the footage come from?” you ask, more awake now.

“Well, I may or may not have used security cam footage for a lot of it, but that’s neither here nor there, so, without further ado, I present to you: your life for the past four-ish years!” and with that, she somehow connects her tablet to the TV and you see a picture of the whole team; Penelope then produces a remote from the depths of her purse and then proceeds to the next slide.

Which is a photo of you. And Aaron. Standing by the coffee machine in the office and smiling at each other, clearly unaware that the moment was being documented. The image is embellished with what must be close to fifty moving, sparkly hearts, obviously done by Garcia.

“First thing’s first,” she starts with a flourish. “Your husband!” and as if on cue, Aaron walks into the room, cup of coffee in hand. Much to your surprise, Aaron just rounds your bed to sit in the same chair you assume he fell asleep in, watching the screen.

“What is happening,” you say softly to yourself, looking from Aaron to Garcia and back.

“The doctor said photos and videos might help restore your memory, so who better to put something together than Garcia?” Hotch answers dryly, a small smile flashing across his face. “The rest of the team should be here shortly,” he says directly to Garcia.

“Oh good. I always work better with an audience,” she replies as you continue to process just what the hell is happening since you woke up approximately five minutes ago.

Within a few minutes, your hospital room is overrun with the rest of the team. Sitting, standing, leaning wherever they can find the space to view Penelope’s presentation with you in the middle of it all.

“Don’t you people have jobs?” you grumble.

“C’mon, Princess. Who better to help you remember the last few years than us?” Derek says with a cheeky grin that makes you roll your eyes.

You turn your gaze to Aaron and find that he’s already looking at you in concern.

“If you really don’t want all of us here we can leave,” he says just loud enough for you to hear.

“I just…” you take a moment to try and collect your thoughts. “I guess I just don’t know how to feel about all of this, but you’re all here so— “

“So here we go!” Penelope cheerfully finishes your sentence before turning back to the screen. “As I was saying before, part one of Operation Get Y/N’s Memories Back is all about—drumroll please—our very own Unit Chief, a.k.a. Hotch, a.k.a. loving husband to our very own Agent Y/L/N.”

With a shake of your head, purposefully ignoring the way Derek and Emily are whooping and whistling, you settle in and gesture for Penelope to continue. God, let’s hope this works.

---

It doesn’t work.

Fuck.

Three almost four hours later and nothing has changed for you. However, it’s a lovely opportunity for some team bonding and creating new memories, but you’re still disappointed. It’s not for lack of trying, though. Penelope did a wonderful job of pulling together a presentation-slash-video montage of your life, complete with titles such as ‘Your lovely husband,’ ‘The Miraculous Life, Death, and Subsequent Resurrection of Emily Prentiss,’ and even ‘Badass BAU Babies,’ which was a collection of team photos and news clips of cases you guys had closed in the past few years.

The whole team had gotten a kick out of each section, especially the last one, as Penelope had spared no one in her quest to help your memory; ugly selfies sent in the BAU group chat, embarrassing footage of you tripping up (and down) the stairs to the bullpen—courtesy of the security cameras, Reid doing physics magic and narrowly missing Rossi’s coffee cup, it was all there. But nothing worked, there was no magical ah ha moment where everything came rushing back. If anything, it really was like watching a movie; it didn’t feel like you were the one is all of these clips and photos. Not even Reid’s commentary made you feel any closer than before to recovering your memories.

It wasn’t all bad, though. Penelope had a veritable stockpile of photos of you and Aaron, ranging from the office, to cases, to the occasional night out with the team. Your engagement announcement, wedding photos, freakin’ everything on the two of you and yet, nothing seemed to make a difference to your brain.

The photo on the screen was one of you and Aaron on a case. You were tucked under his arm, snowflakes visible in your hair and his as you look up and laugh at something he said while he just smiles gently down at you. Penelope had put hearts over both your eyes.

“Actual heart eyes! I had to! You guys are so cute!” she basically squealed when the photo came up.

“What did I tell you,” Rossi said teasingly, “Yearning.”

Prentiss and Morgan hadn’t stopped laughing for this entire segment, with JJ and Reid occasionally joining in if there was something exceptionally ridiculous Penelope had included, like fucking heart eyes.

A hand covering your own makes you realize you had spaced out, and you look down to see that it’s Aaron’s hand, wedding band catching the light.

“Anything, Sweetheart?” he asks in a low voice, carefully watching your face.

You shake your head. “It’s like it’s someone else’s life, but I know it’s mine; you’ve told me it’s mine, there’s photographic evidence that it’s mine!” you say in a huff. “It just doesn’t feel like it’s mine,” you whisper, voice breaking at the end. Tears gather in your eyes and you bite your lip to stop it from shaking as you desperately try and control your overwhelming emotions. You can hear the team in the background, strategizing new ways to help you, but Aaron’s face hovers in front of your own, drawing your attention.

“It’s okay,” he says lightly, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“No, it’s not,” you insist as a few tears make their way down your face. “It’s not, Aaron. What if this is it? What if I just don’t get my memories back?”

Letting out a long sigh, Aaron raises your hand to his lips and kisses your palm before folding your hand into his.

“You will. I know you will,” he says with such conviction you might just believe him if it weren’t for the way he rapidly blinks to keep his own tears at bay.

“Yeah, Princess.” Morgan chimes in from somewhere across the room. “We’ll figure this out, you know we will.”

And with that, you see something click into place in Aaron’s eyes and suddenly, he’s looking at you in such a way that your heart picks up—thanks, heart monitor.

“Aaron…?” you ask cautiously.

“Princess,” he says it so simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You only have time to raise an eyebrow at him before—

Oh.

Kissing Aaron Hotchner is something you could definitely get used to. His hand comes up to cradle your face as he gently moves his lips against yours. You sigh and can feel his smile against your mouth before he’s tugging your face closer, tilting your head just so and—

There.

It’s like opening a window to let in a breeze. Soft and sure, filling the space in a way that’s all-encompassing without being suffocating.

Like snowflakes falling and settling on his black jacket, like Aaron down on one knee sliding your engagement ring on your finger while you smile so much it feels like your face will break. It’s leaving cups of coffee on his desk during late nights in the office. It’s playing soccer with Jack as Aaron smiles and cheers both of you on. It’s being in bed late at night, falling asleep in the comfort provided by the man you love. Your wedding vows, promising to love him forever.

And you know.

With a gasp, you pull Aaron closer, kiss him deeper, harder, moving your lips more frantically against his. I remember I remember I remember and you think he gets it because he pulls back and looks at you with so much hope it almost breaks your heart.

“When I said I’d love you forever, Aaron Hotchner, I meant it.”

And his face breaks into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen as he laughs in disbelief before capturing your lips with his again, returning the urgency you had kissed him with just moments ago.

Someone clears their throat and you pull apart, smiles obvious on both your faces as you turn to the team who are looking somewhat confused.

“Would you mind enlightening us as to why you two are suddenly acting like teenagers?” Rossi asks, eyebrows raised.

“Well,” Aaron starts, grinning in your direction, “It would seem that— “

“Nuh uh. No way,” Derek interrupts him. “Are you seriously about to say that you kissed her and she magically remembered?”

You can’t help but laugh at his disbelief because what the hell and nod, unable to speak through the giddiness overtaking your body. You remember.

“Ohmygod! You guys!!” Penelope squeals before launching herself into your arms for a hug which she promptly pulls Aaron into as well; he doesn’t protest.

“What made you do that, Hotch?” Reid asks curiously once Penelope has let you and Aaron go. “Did you know it would work?”

“Princess,” Aaron says with a nod towards Morgan. “In Jack’s storybooks, a kiss always wakes the Princess so she and her prince can live happily ever after.”

Okay that’s adorable and you can’t help but aww with the rest of the team at Aaron’s confession.

“Happily ever after, huh?” you say, tugging on his hand. “Who knew you were such a sap, Hotchner?”

Rolling his eyes, Aaron just smiles. “Wasn’t it obvious from Garcia’s presentation? I’ve been in love with you forever, Sweetheart. And besides, it worked, didn’t it?” he says with a smug smile.

You pull him down for a short kiss before moving back just enough to murmur “My Prince Charming.”

“I can’t believe you guys,” you turn to see Morgan shaking his head. “A literal fuckin’ fairytale,” and then he’s laughing and the whole team, you and Aaron included, are laughing with him because yeah this is pretty surreal.

“I can’t believe you thought I was a ghost!” Emily says once the laughter has died down, her arms crossed in mock-anger.

“Can you blame me?” you retort. “The last thing I remember was burying you and suddenly you’re here? Nope. No way. Ghost. Only explanation.”

“I have to say, Y/L/N, I’m glad you’re back, if only to stop Aaron’s sad puppy-dog eyes every time you called him ‘Hotch,’” Rossi shakes his head. “I don’t know how much more yearning I could take.”

“Hey! Be nice,” JJ admonishes, swatting Rossi’s shoulder. “I think it’s sweet.”

“Yeah guys,” you echo. “Be nice! Don’t think I forgot you two,” you say, leveling Morgan and Prentiss with glares, “and all your laughter when I couldn’t remember that my husband and I were married!”

“Oh c’mon, Princess,” Morgan groans. “It was pretty funny. You were trying so hard not to look completely in love with your husband.”

“In my defense,” you start, “I didn’t know that you guys already knew how much I love Aaron, so excuse me for trying to hide my love,” you say with a sniff.

“Well, it was pretty obvious. Whenever you looked at him or he grabbed your hand, the heart monitor would register an increase in your heart rate by—” Reid starts to ramble but your laughter cuts him off.

“I get it, I get it,” you continue through your laughter. “I’m very in love with Aaron, even when I think it’s a secret, but as Penelope’s presentation so eloquently demonstrated, I’m not subtle and neither is he.”

Aaron leans over to kiss your cheek as the rest of the team continues into a conversation about Penelope’s presentation and how the hell she collected all those photos and videos in one day.

With the attention no longer on you—for now—you smile at Aaron, who smiles right back. He slumps back in his chair with a sigh, and you can’t help but pull him back closer to you.

“I love you,” you say kissing the back of his hand.

“I love you more, Sweetheart,” he replies softly.

Yeah, this is happily ever after.

2K notes · View notes

witchlyboo · 4 years ago

Text

Definitely, maybe.

Part five: The one who belongs to someone else.

Introduction. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan

Warnings: Swearing, angst, misspellings, some Spanish, me learning how to write properly, and NY stuff that I've learned from movies that we all agree to pretend are real.

Word count: 6.4 k

a/n: You been asking for smut, I know, I know, I just wanted to introduce you to all the boys first, and we're getting there, just one more ahead. Also, I'm working on a masterlist because we are getting too many parts already.

All body types and skin tones friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. Constructive feedback and misspellings correction is always welcome.

Red and blue lights flash the driving mirror.

—No, no, no, por favor que no sea a mi—You beg to the sky looking at the patrol that is asking you to park, or someone else, there's a lot of cars in this part of the city, there's a big chance is the panic who's controlling your senses.—Dios, mi abuela fue a la iglesia cada domingo de su vida y nunca te pidió nada, please let me have some of her divina recompensa.—But that's not how it works, you end up parking with just a few seconds to think what to say. There's a perfect explication of why you are driving a car that is not yours in the middle of the night and smelling like a minibar.

Then this ridiculous thought comes to your mind, you look expensive, you've never seen the daughter of a senator but you must be close to it, it would make you less of a feminist if you just use your attributes? Ugh, you feel sick just to think about it but don't have enough money to pay a fine, and the constant paranoia of being chased all the time as an immigrant will only get stronger.

You pull down your dress a little so your neckline can do its job but you regret it immediately, and you're pretty sure you look more like an expensive prostitute who stole the car of his lover than some influential men's daughter.

—License and registration.—You hear him say when he approaches your window. You don't like this but you have to play the dumb tourist, the pretty foreign girl that is too stupid to be dangerous, with the look you have tonight it shouldn't be hard. But damn you hate cops, any uniformed man that works for the government is your eternal enemy, and you don't know how long you could keep the nice dumb Latina game before spit on his face.

—There's something wrong, officer? ...You?!—Your sexy and fake high voice is ruined when you see the face of the man who stopped you. This night couldn't get worse.

—Wait, what happened with the party?—Evan interrupts you while you finish some notes for work, little remainders for later when you don't have an eleven years old kid running around you, he's not usually this energic and you have to blame yourself for that, you're describing a life of excess and eccentric fun, something you let behind so many years ago that your own son doesn't know even a bit of it.

—Ugh, a nightmare doesn't worth telling.—You remember vaguely most of it but what keeps fresh in your mind is bad enough to don't want to bring it back.

—But if Timothée is my dad I have to know the important things, including the bad stuff.—Sounds perfectly reasonable and that's what makes you groan at him. Sometimes you feel blessed that your kid is better than you in any possible way, and sometimes you want to kill his brain with video games and reality shows like the rest of the parents.

—Ok, cool, but I'll keep all the +18 content for myself, so this part of the story might be blurry for you.—It kinda is for you anyway.

You should’ve known this night was cursed, you had a feeling because a) your earring fell off at the same time Timothée texted you to give you the party address and say he can't pick you up. And b) he won’t pick you up. Your mother would say that’s reason enough to not go, a real gentleman wouldn’t make you go to an unknown place in the middle of the night on your own in a city like this. But you decide to ignore it because you are a modern woman and because it’s worth it. It better be.

The outfit must be something special. You always take your time to choose what to wear, even if just another regular day, and since this isn't the case you thought about it for hours, that made your mind busy enough to not thinking about Tom and the whole love confession. He texted you saying he'll come for you to go to class together on Monday, which is completely impractical because he's way closer than you but is progress and you're going to take it.

You wanted to ask for Sheep's opinion but you thought she might not care, has been a few days since she started acting strange like she's bothered just to see you breathe. You want to blame his boyfriend to take all her time and attention from you but is probably just her new job, she got a small role in a Netflix show, and even when you're so happy for her, that's the event that has changed her into someone completely different. But you give her time, stress can do bad things to people.

The winner is the exact copy you made of the black and white striped dress Cameron Diaz wore in "The Mask" beautiful, classy, and sexy enough without being too scandalous, not that you have any problem with that, but this isn't the occasion, you don't want to feel like you're being too much or too little, just enough, it's supposed to be easy, right? you were born for this. Just adding some big shiny earrings you got on a thrift shop that look like real diamonds and you're ready, not that you own any to compare. Red lipstick, dark eyes, and a messy bun to get that disinterested pitch every look needs.

Getting there wasn't a problem, you were in the rich part of the city, everyone know who, where and what just to brag about it. The excitement is growing with every second, you check your makeup like thirty times in the elevator and send texts to your mom just to let her know where you are, and because you have to share that moment with someone and you are limited of friends these days.

Timothée opens the door with red eyes, drunk, high, or somewhere in between, you know then you were right about the bad feeling. He jumps on you to kiss you and no matter how much you try to explain the delicacy of your lipstick, he does it anyway, leaving a taste of alcohol and shrimps in your mouth. Taking you by the waist he walks you to a group of people you don't know while you're trying harder to fix the red color of your mouth without a mirror.

—Here is the companion I bought, look at her, that's how five grand per hour look like.—They laughed but you were too disoriented to process all the things he said, it was supposed to be a joke? if it is, why isn't he correcting? Instead, his hand goes straight to your ass and presses it to get you closer to him.

—I'm actually an intern in the costume designer department of the new version of "Sense and Sensibility".—You wanted to mention your recent promotion to hairstylist and makeup artist but that might be too pretentious. Anyway, they don't seem to care what you are or not, in fact, they don't even see you, all eyes are on Timothée

—Oh, well, is easy to forget when you're paying them—All laughs again. Who is this person? Who are all these people, actually? You recognize some influencers, a few cast members but there's no sign of the director, other main actors, not even his co-star. You feel like an extra in a movie where someone will be killed in a luxury party, hopefully not you. You take his hand from your body and clear your throat.—I'm just joking my love, she looks stunning, isn't she? I’ll get you a drink.

He leaves and the group of people surrounding you suddenly dissipated like boiling water, you were on your own again and despite some judgmental gazes is like you’re not there, you’re sure you could just take your dress off and throw it to someone’s face and unless Tim says something about it, no one would care. You’re there as his companion, an ornament, and that’s not enough to earn their attention because it’s too obvious you’re the one in turn.

You walk to the only window no one is smoking and check your phone, you know, the thing you do when you pretend you have important issues to attend, but no, you end reading some old messages, pictures, texting your mom of how much fun you’re having at the party, and somehow you check your filed Facebook messages to find Logan’s name. You cover the screen so fast you hurt your nail, his name is enough to make you tremble like a Chihuahua, you haven’t talked to him since that night, you know from his sister he lives in the house he bought for you two and he’s having the happiest life without you. You want to believe that because that means you took the right decision but deep inside… no, you can’t be that person, you want him to be happier than ever.

You find the guts to open the message, and you read as slowly as is humanly possible. “My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health…” Dios, just Logan could start a message like that, your smile is almost too big to fit in your face so you bit your nail to cover it a little. “I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you’ll be happy to know…”

—That’s a fucking long-ass message.—Tim appears behind you and takes your phone from your hand, spilling some of his drink on your dress in the process. Apparently, he's been there long enough to read part of the message.

—Give it back.—You command in the most severe voice you have, your magical moment got ruined and you remember the hole of hell you are.

—"My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health. I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you must know I still use them now and then"—Timothée starts reading the message, and even when no one is close enough to hear it and you don’t really care about this people’s opinion, that’s not for anyone to read, that’s one of the few parts of your life you treasure the most and you’re not ready to get over it.—You little slut, are you cheating on me with a med student?

—Give it to me.—You repeat trying to take the phone from his hand but he’s faster and walks away putting it out of your reach.

—"I meticulously preserve them, I certainly know any piece of art made by you will be priceless in the near future"—You don’t want to hear it coming from his drunk mocking voice, so you try to ignore what he’s saying and put more effort on chasing the phone.—Should I had kept the jeans where you left the wet spot on? I didn’t know you were an artist, my love.

—Timothée, por el amor de Dios.—Now you're trying to climb him, it wouldn't be that hard to take him down, he's skinny and you're fierce. That's what you thought but he's not moving even with you are on top of his shoulder and his opposite long arm keeps the phone away from you.

—Who is this guy and why is he talking to my girl like this?—You see the olive eyes getting darker and the tone of his voice went deeper than you thought he could do. You desist from taking the phone, you know the bullies love the attention, maybe that's exactly what he wants and give it to him just makes it worse.

—I'm not your girl.—You claim fixing up your dress having enough of games, and you have no reason to keep worrying about losing your job, the filming is done, and apparently your relationship with him too. You don't care about any of that anymore, just want to read Logan's text.

Even behind all the alcohol and the eyes injected in blood thanks for who knows what kind of drug, you can see the disappointment and anger, but it's not a broken heart, Is the hissy fit of a child that loses his balloon and now everyone will pay for it, especially you.

—Are you sure about that?—You can see him swallow hard, almost looking vulnerable, but his voice is defiant and threatening to prove you wrong. He just has to stretch out his arm to reach the open window with your phone in hand, his intentions are clear and the only thing you can do is raise your hands as a reflex.—You were mine the moment you put a foot on my trailer, and I don't fucking share my stuff.—Before you can say a word he drops the phone from the fourth floor.

You know is senseless but you find yourself running out of the party and going to search the device, using it also as an excuse to get away from that place. This is the first time someone makes you feel meaningless, you know the famous' world is cold and lacking in empathy but this is ridiculous, they're a bunch of parasites fed by attention and power. By Timothée.

The screen is crashed and the rest of it is probably beyond repair, not that you're surprised, its life is longer than you've been in the country and you admit you should have replaced it much earlier but you're not the kind to throw away things that still work. However, is not the phone you are worried about, not as much as what it contains.

—That was obsolete anyway, I'll get you a better one.—You didn't know he was following you, his voice interrupts your self-wailing. He sounds calmer and a little embarrassed, but not enough to say sorry, you don't think he's capable of saying it.

You shake your head and start to walk away without a word, you don't want anything from him, not materially, at least.

—Don't make a scandal out of it, it's just a phone!—He yells erasing any trace of regret in his voice. He doesn't see the reaction he expected and that's when he runs after you and with a hand on your upper arm pulls you back, you gasped for the sudden bluntness.—That annoying habit you have of leaving when I'm talking to you.

You push him away with all the strength you have, which resulted in him almost falling on the ground.

—I don't care about the stupid phone!—You finally break, but sadly is not as satisfactory as you thought it would be.—You are mean, vain, arrogant and the worst part is that you enjoy being this despicable human because you have absolutely no consequences to it. Everyone around you just accepts it and I feel so sorry for you because the only possible way for you to fill the void inside is to be surrounded by that crowd of mules licking your steps—To your surprise, he has nothing to say, he's just standing there with no facial expression, whatever he feels is easily covered by his years of experience acting, even drunk.—I can't give you that and it's obvious they don't want me either. What am I even doing here?—You ask yourself thinking where would be the best way of getting a cab, is a rich zone, must be easy.

—Everything is better when you're around—His voice is thin and fragile, you have to process what he said three times in your head to understand his words. You're not willing to look at him yet.—You're not like the others.

—Pure bullshit. You love to repeat that misogynist discourse of girls being in a certain way because is easier than be responsible for the people you choose to be—You were hugging yourself the whole time, is a cold night, but not enough to be bothersome, you enjoy Fall weather—You got me for a moment, I give you that, you fooled me but I'm too tired of guessing what version of you is real—When you return your gaze at him, he doesn't try to hide the guilt anymore, but there's still haughtiness in there.—Now, if you don't mind Mr. Chalamet, I need to get a cab.

—No, you came with me, you leave with me.—There's no trace of alcohol in his voice anymore, a good scolding is enough to put you sober, you know that thanks to your mom. Oh god, you're becoming her.

—You didn't bring me here, gigantic head—You look at him and put your hand in front of him with the palm up. He stares at it for several seconds before put his own on it—Not that!—You shake it and start looking inside his jeans pockets until you feel the metal of his key car.—You can't drive and I have to get home. You'll find it in the studio tomorrow.

That's how you ended with a car way more luxurious than you expected, driving so slowly and carefully that the police stopped you. What a night, but at this point, you couldn't care less about anything that is not that message, is been months and you can't get over it, over him. Not even Ben moans, Tom's comforting arms, or fight with a movie star at 3:00 am. is enough to get him out of your mind.

—So is true, you don't wear anything that hasn't appeared in a movie, huh?—Michael B. Jordan is leaning on the car window with a mocking smile and a sparkle of satisfaction that you would love to punch but his uniform keeps you in line, where you come from police is not equal to justice, most of the times is oppression.

—You know where it's from?—That was kind of comforting, no one at the party noticed. Not that you care.

—Is The Mask, not some Adam Hitchcock's blurb.—He smiles and even when you really don't like him, it's nice to be with a familiar face, you are really tired of running away, scaping for problems that are a result of your null capacity to deal with emotions. Ugh, what a word.

—Is Alfred Hitchcock, actually.—You didn't want to sound priggish, but you correct him with no time to stop yourself, an old habit.

—You got me, smarty, you know more than movies than me. Where did you get this car?—You feel really nervous even when you got this legally, you have your documents and license on time and he's being nice enough to not want to run away in a car that you technically borrowed for yourself.

—It's not mine.—No shit, Sherlock.

—No shit, Sherlock, I was asking where did you steal it.—You wanted to laugh but there's something with the uniform that just doesn't allow you to be yourself.—Are you drunk?

—No, no, fuck, no, it's just, I don't feel comfortable with cops—He raises his eyebrows but that is his only reaction.—Listen, is my boss' car, I'm doing the favor to take it to the studio, and I'm really nervous because is fucking expensive, he's an asshole, I haven't drive un almost a year because you people only use cars if you're rich or your work and lives depend on it. I'm starving.—The last part came out of nowhere, you haven't eaten anything in almost 13 hours, maybe that's the actual reason why you are that moody.

He doesn't answer right away, takes his time to look at you, what makes you blush, he's really close, closer than he's ever been. Does he smell like green apples? Not the actual apples, the artificial smell they had given to them.

—Get out of the car.—Oh no, is he arresting you? Is he finally taking revenge for every time you make fun of his Hawaiian-type shirts? You know you have too much karma accumulated and a cop making you pay for it when you don’t believe in their sense of justice is kinda poetic, and evil.

You don’t want to discuss with someone with a taser, gun, pepper spray, or who knows what else. So you take your bag, the key car, and get off defeated.

—My turn is almost over, I’ll take you to eat something, c’mon.—He walks back to his patrol and you stay still for a few seconds still processing his words, you must look totally devastated for him to offer that. How you see it you have two options, go with him and spend an awkward hour with a person you don’t like or risk getting a fine, Tim can pay it, it’s not a big deal but you don’t want to owe him even the minimal thing.

You get in the car holding on to your bag to feel calmer, this is the first time you’re fully alone with him since you found him half-naked in your kitchen. Those defined abs may never leave your brain.

—Are you cold?—He interrupts your thoughts with his question, you didn’t notice you were shaking. He looks for something under his seat and gives you an NYPD hoodie, you hold it doubting your next move, is not like you don’t appreciate the gesture but it’d be easier to take if it doesn’t get that words printed—Is clean.—He says chuckling when he sees the way you’re looking at it.

—Is not that, just, you know, fuck the police, defund the NYPD, demilitarize the pigs and that stuff.—You say putting on the hoodie anyway, is a cold night and you won't help the institution wearing their propaganda.

—Yeah, I get it, but you can't change the system just from within.—You decide is not the right moment to have a political conversation so you shrug your shoulders and discreetly smell the hoodie, a mix of cologne, green apples, and cheap soap, you know is cheap because you buy the exact same, do its job.

—I'm in the mood for pizza.—You say casually, making a deal to yourself to try to be his friend, he is a small part of your life anyway.—Domino's is open at this time of the night?

—Tell me you're not consuming that shit, dear Lord, you been here for how long, two years? I can't believe your idea of a good pizza is Domino's. Stella hasn't taught you anything?—You're surprised by the level of condescension with a pizza and you mirror his smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Your school program includes people from all around the world so you don't have that much experience with actual new yorkers. Logan is rich, so he doesn't really count.

—What's wrong with Domino's? I don't buy much street food, is cheaper to buy things on the food market. Besides, all pizza is good.—The mention of Sheep makes you a little tense, so you don't say anything about it, is not a conversation to have with him.

—Don't blaspheme in the patrol, I just washed it—You laugh, finally, after a terrible weekend. You can see why she likes him, there is something about his voice, smile, and his eyes that feel... calm, like watching Friends after a marathon of Lord of the Rings.—There are rules to survive this city, and I'm surprised you have made it this far without a proper guide.

—Chill out Mr. Miyagi, I'm not from the jungle, and I've learned a lot by myself.—He gives you a lopsided grin as a request, and you put your fingers up ready to enlist your acquired knowledge.—Walk fast, like you're about to be stabbed, something that actually happened to me, with an umbrella—He nods and laughs being related to it.—Number two, no small talk, no one cares, even if they ask. Number three, if you look a stranger in the eye, especially a homeless person, you have essentially invited them to approach you.

—Number four, we never eat from Domino's, Papa John's, Pizza hut, or any other chain restaurant, only trucks and local places are allowed.—You roll your eyes but you get the point, is just, again, you're not much into street food, it doesn't taste like home and the only way to eat food like that is preparing it yourself.

—Fine, fuck capitalism, let's support local places—You make an obvious fake enthusiastic tone but he nods proudly.—Number five, you don't need a car to live here, not even know how to drive. I would have successfully avoided this police brutality if I had followed that rule.

—For someone who is about to eat for free, you whine too much.—He parks the car and gives you a sign to go with him. You see him go to a pizza truck and order, you realize at the moment how ridiculous you look, so before chasing him you let your hair down, take your huge earrings off, and roll up the skirt of your dress until your mid-thighs letting the hoodie cover the rest, and clean the red lipstick with a Kleenex from your bag. Now you look more like a college person and not a rich girl who just got seized.

—Here you go.—He says giving you a slice as big as your head, looks oily and spreading cheese everywhere. Perfect.

—Is it vegan?—You ask receiving the food with an obnoxious face. His kind grind turned into a dread expression and you give him your second laugh of the day.—I'm kidding.

You are about to give it a bite when you see passing next to you a huge rat with the exact same slice as yours in its mouth, running into the dark of the night happy to have obtained the food for its family. They use to scare you when you just moved out but now they're like any other pigeon in the sky.

—Rule... whatever, a rat with a slice of pizza is a symbol for good luck, congratulations.—He pets your head awkwardly, not sure if you're ok with the physical contact, which, surprisingly, you are.

—I see rats with bagels all the time.—Pizza and bagels, that's the main culinary wonders of the city, you like it, not much to object but is hard not to compare it with your home's food.

—Is easy to confuse a rough diamond with a simple rock.—You both eat in silence, enjoying the mixed sounds of the city and all the different smells, the whole situation feels like one of those lofi music videos. You remember thinking about moments like this before getting the scholarship, what would it be like to feel normal in the city of your dreams.

—How do you know that much about movies?—He asks after a few minutes when you take a break to drink something, that pizza is not easy to take.

—When I was a kid a spent much time on my own, so my dad bought me a used DVD reproducer, and at the corner of my neighborhood was this movie store where you could buy 5 pirate movies for one dollar. They were blurred, with a terrible sound, and most of the time with the wrong movie inside but they helped me to not feel lonely. Eventually, the store closed but I've watched everything in it by then—He gives you a warm smile, you never told that story to anyone, not because is too intimate to share, but because no one asked, it doesn't sound like a question with a complex answer.—Anyway, I watched Marie Antoinette when I was like eight, and I decided at that moment that however is done I wanted to be part of that magic.

—You hear all kind of people chasing dreams in this city but is hard to find someone who actually deserves it.—You blush and you cover it with your hair but the smile on your voice is impossible to hide.

—Is that a compliment? You must really want me to like you to date Sheep.—You laugh but you can see his face tense, so you can guess your friend has been busy breaking everyone’s hearts.

—She hasn’t returned my calls in three days so I don’t think there’s much you can do—You nod, all this time you thought he was the reason she is ignoring you but apparently you are both in the same boat.—But yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, what I should have said is, Marie Antoinette at eight? I can see where all the damage started.

You gasp and throw your napkin at his head, he easily catches it without even looking at it and laughs; that was unexpectedly attractive.

—Why a cop?—You ask, not sure where that question came from, maybe you authentically want to know more about him, he just bought you food, and honestly, that's the easiest way to win your trust.

—I wanted to be an actor when I was a child. This is the city of opportunities so you may think that if you want to chase the big wonder, this is the perfect place to do it. But I grow up surrounded by these people giving their entire lives to get something just given to one in a million so I decided is not worth it. For many years I wondered what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was really clear, my dad was a cop, a good one, or that’s what people say. I don’t remember much because he died when I was seven—Conversations about death are not your strength, everything can turn out uncomfortable if you choose the wrong words.—It might not be that glamorous but if my father died for it, it surely worth it.

—For the good ones.—You raise your almost empty can of Coke and he does the same with a grin that warms the cold weather of the night.

—For the good ones.

The next two hours passed like minutes talking about anything and everything. It just felt right to talk freely with him, you didn’t feel judged for your awkward family moments or your random thoughts, not even once because he told you his too. At some point of the night he borrowed you his gym sweatpants, any of you could just suggest going home but that was off the table, end that peace just for weather reasons would have been a tragedy.

—I read Timothée Chalamet is a dick. Is that true?—The mention of his name remains you of your life and everything that comes with it, including the middle semester project that you must dedicate your entire day, one that is about to start.—What, you can’t talk about it?

—He is a complete dick with no sense of privacy or human decency—And when he interrupts a deep kiss to look at your eyes, smile, and caress your chin, you feel like a character of his Victorian movies. But he didn’t ask that.—But the next week he’ll be no longer my problem.

—That’s why we have rule twenty-three, don’t ask for a picture of a celebrity unless they are local—You have heard about it before but you haven’t got the opportunity to decide if you like that rule because the only celebrities you have seen are from work and that club’s party opening.—That means you’ll be free to go to the Stephen Kings’ movie projection there will be for Halloween.

You don’t know if that was a proposition, a suggestion, or just a simple recommendation, and whatever it is, you noticed he was nervous to ask. Is it wrong? It feels wrong like you were betraying your friend accepting to hang out with his boyfriend without her consent. But he didn’t ask you to go with him so is safe to answer.

—Yeah, I guess—You get a moment, four seconds top, where you shared innocent, curious, and tenting gazes like three graders in the playground. And that’s the further you will allow yourself to go.—We better leave, if the sunlight touch me I’ll turn into dust.

You get off the car hood and go to the side door, but this time he opens it for you. You give him a “seriously?” Look, receiving a little push in your arm as a response.

↬☀︎︎

A distant voice asks you to wake up, softly whispers that turn into caresses on your cheek, your eyes feel so heavy, even when you are well aware of your environment your eyelids keep closed.

—Good morning, Princess—This is the first time Tom calls you that way, the change from silly nicknames to Princess is enough to get you out of hibernation. He is squatting beside your bed, his smile is the promise of a better day, and chasing that idea you give him one small back.—Your mom has been texting me desperately all day, she said you're not answering her calls and is worried.

—Fuck, my phone broke last night, can I call her from yours?—That’s an oversimplification but in the search for a better story, that's what you decide to believe and tell. Tom nods and gives it to you, he looks happy, beyond that, this is the first time you see that subtle blush on his cheeks and the eyes sparkling. You sit on the bed next to his body looking for your mom's number, slowly he moves between your legs, you have shorts and an oversized Back To The Future t-shirt, you got took the time to prepare yourself to bed last night and keep Michael’s clothes inside your closet to wash them, like The Tell-Tale Heart, a little innocent secret who feels dirty somehow

The conversations with your mom are always long, nostalgic and the tears are hard to hold for both parts; after a long life sharing almost every day with her, her absence never feels smaller. But this time is different, Tom is exploring the bare skin under your knee with his warm hands, asking for permission with curious eyes, and when you don’t object to the touch the British boy keeps his exploring mission cautiously, giving special attention to see your eyes in case something change. Is time to hang up when he gives a long and loving kiss to your knee, the less erotic kiss you could think of but so intimate to bristle your skin.

—Not nice to touch someone's daughter when is talking to her mom.—The protest of your voice loses strength at every word, he heard that and just straight his back to reach your face, the gap is almost extinct.

—We're okay, she likes me.—He assures holding your hips and pulling you a bit to him. Tom looks very comfortable with the new closeness authorization, you like it but are not very sure about it yet, most of you still think of him as your best friend.

—Did she tell you that? Are you talking with my mom behind my back?—You laugh when he does, almost like nothing changed.

—She adores me, I swear, I'm invited to Christmas, you know?—You're not surprised, she invites everyone, Logan was too but the first time he got family plans and didn't make it to the second.

—You should go, maybe we can do...—His lips touch yours in a peak at the middle phrase and makes you forget what you were about to say.—Man, the audacity to interrupt...—Then he kisses you again, deeply, using his tongue to taste your inner lip and his hands holding your shirt in fists. That's a twist of events.

—Is that ok?—You hear a weak whisper coming out of his voice but you got so mesmerized on his lips that decided to ignore it and kiss him back instead. He responds to your touch and starts to lean over you to make you lay on the bed.

Jesucristo bendito, is this happening? like, actually happening? you must look like trash, you barely took all the makeup from the night before and didn't take a shower, you start to get so worried about smells, feelings, and what that'll mean to your already too much-spoiled friendship.

However, the time of doubts is done when Sheep starts yelling in the living room, you both reacted running to the sound and looking for your blonde friend. Michael is there but doesn't look like the same as a few hours ago, is annoyed and tired for the lack of sleep, a look that doesn't match him at all.—What did you do?—You ask him fast assuming she's mad for something he did.

—Just in time, the star of the movie, I was wondering how much it will take you to be the protagonist of this.—That is Sheep's voice talking about you and what must be your heart breaking from her words.

—Excuse me?—You wish your tone would be less savage but you can't help respond the same way she did.

—Logan wasn't enough, then you got the drummer, fucking Timothée Chalamet, Tom and now my boyfriend. I'm so glad I didn't leave you alone with my dad or I'd be calling you mom now.—You have no words to that, Michael doesn't even dare to look at you, he must have told her something she misunderstood, but Sheep, or well, Stella is saying things she actually thinks and keep to herself. Tom walks in front of you whispering things to her to calm her down but she is not looking at him, you didn't tell her anything about Tom either so he's taking responsibility this time.—Go ahead and fuck the whole city, Michael if that please you but you're crossing the line with Tom and you know that, you're going to ruin him as you ruin every man that enters in your life.—She has a very you moment having the last word of the dispute and getting out of the apartment with Michael going after her but not putting much effort in it.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Taglist:

@eridanuswave @cjand10 @deluxeplanteater @rorodendra @navs-bhat @coxxxxxpi @leviosatothestars

Thanks for all the love and support, if you have opinions, suggestions, or want to be part of the tag list (Or don’t want to be part anymore) let me know, I appreciate every message.

#ben hardy imagine #michael b jordan fc #tom holland x reader #timothee chalamet fanfiction #pedro pascal #logan lerman fc #definitely maybe #fluff #angst #timothee chalamet #Tom Holland #Ben Hardy

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years ago

Text

Mean (JJK x Reader) 💜☁️✴️🔞

💸 Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

💸 Genre: Mafia!AU, Single Parent AU!, Angst, fluff, Smut

💸 Warnings: bad language aka cursing, mentions of cheating, mentions of illegal business, manhandling and not the nice kind, tsundere Jungkook, it’s not like he likes you duh, guns, description of violence, restriction of movement and not in a kinky way, protected sex because dude he’s got one kid okay that’s enough, unconventional romance, choking, near death experience, angst did I mention angst

💸 Summary: Jeon Jungkook was kinda cute, you had to admit that- but he was also a massive douchebag with his head up his ass. And a cute kid.

A/N: First of all, I want to apologize to anyone I might dissapoint with this. I've changed up the story concept numerous times- and the first trailer is in no way a proper teaser anymore, since it has nothing to do with this story anymore. I somehow hope you still enjoy the story however. If not- I hope you'll stick around for future content!

Taglist: @drumsofheaven @yzkyzkuniverse @strwberrybtch @kirbykook @teresaisla @park-hera-gi @justzeera @taestannie @bambuzlee (there were several people I couldn’t tag- I’m sorry about that!)

Jeon Jungkook was facing his worst enemy.

Now, considering his work and all those rumors going on about him, this could be anything really; from an entire army storming his house, to readying himself for waterboarding. But no, this enemy he was currently standing across from was way more vile and difficult to get under control. The situation was slowly growing desperate on his side- this was a life and death situation.

"Mina, come on now." Jungkook pleaded as the toddler vehemently refused to raise her arms properly so he could slip on her dress for the day. He could understand her, to an extend- he wasn't a morning person either, but he had to overcome this in order to be successful- and she had to as well.

Well, success was not really that important at her age, but getting her to daycare definitely was.

"Mina I have a meeting soon and if you continue to be a brat I can't send you off again properly." He tried, knowing how much she hated him leaving in a rush like usually. He'd promised her the day prior as he'd tucked her into bed that he would, this time, at least stay until her friends had arrived, yet he couldn't have known that this situation would occur the next morning.

Sometimes being a single father was way worse than anything he was facing at his actual job.

"There we go!" He cheered as she finally caved in, pouting a bit before she giggled at the silly face her father was making in order to get her to smile. He hated sending her off in a foul mood, knowing that she could be an absolute devil's child if she felt like it. In a way, she was very similar to him, which was to be expected with her mother not being in the picture. He didn't mind it much, however- a cheating spouse was not really what he wanted by his side, if he was being entirely honest with himself. It was enough already knowing that almost all of his 'friends' and 'business partners' were shameless liars. He didn't need to live and raise a child with one as well.

"Tiger!" The young girl cheerfully exclaimed, as the both made their way into the kitchen. It wasn't just a random comment from her side, because her chubby hand already pointed at the cereal box designed with colorful images on the counter, way too high for her but perfectly reachable for her father as he chuckled, balancing her on his hip as he prepared a small bowl for her.

"No funny business though, young lady." He said, as he sat down with her at the table. "We don't have to hurry, but we can't waste time either." He explained, as he watched her eat her breakfast with a concentrated face. He smiled at the picture, sometimes wishing this would be how his days would always start. Sadly, that wasn't the case- most of the times really, her nanny took her to daycare.

Which was another problem.

Her nanny had recently filed in for her termination, her age getting to her as she finally made the decision to settle down for her last years of life, she'd said. He accepted it without much resistance, having build too much respect for the elderly woman over the course of time by now. It left him with a gaping hole however, one that he knew he needed to fill.

But with who?

He couldn't just hire anybody for Mina at this point in his life. People needed to be fully trustworthy to be even given knowledge of his child at all. Most didn't even know she existed- the public unaware of her relation to him. He kept the facade up that she was merely the child of a close friend, just to keep her out of range of any potential enemies he had gathered over time.

His life really wasn't fit for a child at all, but what was he supposed to do?

"Y/N!" A small voice exclaimed behind you, making you look around from where you were cutting apples as the small child appeared.

"Mina!" You answered just as brightly, picking her up as she giggled excitedly. "Did you have breakfast yet?" You asked, as another daycare worker came inside.

"Yeah!" She said, and you looked at her surprised. "Daddy and I had breakfast!" She explained, as you placed her back down onto the ground. "He'ven brought me here today!" She said, and you hummed affirmatively,

"That sounds awesome!" You said, as she beamed up at you. "Why don't you go sit at the table, we're almost having our morning snack. You think you can eat some apples?" You asked, and she proudly nodded, before zooming off, stumbling a bit as she missed the slight gap of the door.

"He didn't come inside." Jenny said, as she watched the little girl sit down next to a boy her age. "I saw that he was sitting in his car, but she got out herself." She explained further, as you continued cutting the apples and making some cuts to have them resemble a bunny. "I swear to god-" She started, as you cut her off.

"We don't know what his life is like, Jenny." You said, as she huffed. "It's not our kid, it's not our life. She isn't unhappy, she's healthy, she's not mistreated. Case closed." You explained further as you discarded the scraps of apple unneeded in the trash, before rinsing the knife you'd used. "I'm not too happy about it either, but we're not her mother." You said, as you dried your hands.

Jenny sighed. "I know, but like-" She said, walking over to you to help you place the banana slices and grapes as well. "She's such a sweet kid. I don't know, but he seems like such a dick honestly. Like, have you heard his phonecall last week?" You snorted. Everyone did at this point.

Mina had had a minor incident, when she'd stumbled and fell. She'd scraped her knee, cried a little, but after a moment everything had been fine again. He however, had been livid upon finding out his daughter had been hurt, even though the scratches didn't even need a bandaid. Even though he'd only been on the phone with your superior, he'd made such a scene out of it that it became like local news around the daycare.

"I still don't know what the fuck that was about." Jenny exclaimed, taking a sip of her coffee as she kept an eye on the kids in the main room. "Like, yeah, she fell, but nothing happened." She said, and you agreed.

Shrugging, you grabbed some plates and napkins, and looked at Jenny. "Again." You reminded her. "As harsh as it sounds, you know me." Jenny sighed.

"I know."

You took back everything you had said this morning.

This prick had the audacity to keep you waiting for more than two hours now, without reacting to any amount of phonecalls you'd done by now. Mina was almost asleep on your lap, and you were angry to say the least. This was supposed to be your last day of work for a week, you were supposed to be curled up on your couch in nothing but underwear and fluffy socks, hidden by a blanket and eating icecream while watching netflix. You were definitely not supposed to sit here at your daycare until even the janitor was about to go home. "Fuck it." You mumble, carefully balancing the young girl on your hip as you grab your bag and keys.

You wave the janitor and cleaning staff goodbye on their way out, and take out your phone for a bus or subway that could drive close to where Mina's address is- but you notice there is nothing in her jacket written that you could use as one. You instead simply call the number written down for emergencies, and wait as it rings.

once.

twice.

"Hello?"

You are a bit taken aback by the voice on the other line, masculine, but clearly not as old as you'd thought he'd sound. "Uh, yeah, this is Mina's daycare, you mind picking her up these days, or not?" You casually say, Mina moving around a bit as to bring her thumb close to her lips. You internally coo at her.

"Shit! Fuck- I, where are you?" He asks, and you furrow your brows. Where the hell does he think you are, or does he seriously not know where his daughters daycare is? Wait, is that even her father?

"I- listen, am I even talking to her father or who is this?" You ask, and suddenly you feel extremely uncomfortable. This was a bad idea, what if this isnt her dad at all? You could loose your job for this!

"Yeah, yes. Listen I'm gonna send someone to pick her up alright? Should be there in an hour or so." He says as if frustrated, and you scoff, making him question you on the other line as if he was just struck by thunder. "Excuse me?" He says, voice low, but you're not intimitated.

"First of all, I'm not convinced. Second of all, and pardon my french, but are you nuts?! It's already way too late for her to be up, and I've finished my shift hours ago!" You complain, and he clears his throat over the line, clearly unhappy about your lack of understanding.

"Jeon Mina has a small beauty mark underneath her lower lip, she hates strawberries for some reason, and her biggest secret is that she is actually scared of unicorns. There, happy?" He grits out, and you chew on your lip. He was good. "Second of all, Miss." He makes sure to pronounce every word. "You're getting paid to look after my kid. If that's all you want I'm paying you extra for the inconvenience-" Oh boy, there we go.

"If I cared about your stupid money I would've called authorities hours ago, S.I.R." You start, careful to tone your voice down as to not wake her up. "And you know what, thats a great Idea actually! Let me just-" You begin, but he cuts you off with a sound that sounds awfully like a door closing.

"Fuck you, I'm there in 20." He says.

Jeon Jungkook was not too fond of woman.

That much was clear ever since he'd been cheated on and left with a kid, but it had always been like that. It wasn't like he was afraid of them, or didn't like them, it was more like, during his life, woman had been the reason for heartbreak and bad news all along. His mother had been an alcoholic, his dad desperately trying to get her back on track. His sister had been involved into shady business early on, a wild child that would do anything to get on peoples nerves. His aunt, which only ever visited to gain money. Women were bad news.

So his own surprise had been very prominent when he spotted you on the bench with his kid in your arms,her chubby arms clinging onto you like a koala. You seemed to be reading something on your phone, careful not to point the device too close to Mina so she wouldn't be disturbed. You were pretty, he had to admit that, even from far away- and you seemed like a confident person, from what he'd heard over the phone. You suddenly noticed him as he drove a bit closer, car tires crunching the gravel and snow underneath while his headlights shut off, to not blind you both. He stepped out, as you woke Mina up to announce to her that her father had finally arrived.

"Daddy!" She screached sleepily, running towards him with stumbling legs. He picked her up with a smile before he turned around, having every intention to buckle her up in his backseat as you came closer.

"Huh. Mind telling me why I shouldn't inform authorities about this?" You asked, and he huffed out a breath with a roll of his eyes, pulling out his wallet. You simply stood there, arms crossed, not at all fazed by the amount of money he held in front of you- you simply raised your eyebrow. "I mean, if money could talk I'd ask your bills, sure. But that right there isn't an answer." You replied, and he gritted his teeth, jaw clenching. Why were you being so difficult.

"Okay, how much?" He said, and you suddenly moved, shifted, as if absolutely offended by his offer.

"Do I look like a streetworker to you sir?" You said, and he closed his eyes for a moment, until another car seemed to pull up.

"You're getting picked up." He says, ready to step into his car as you look at him with confusion. "You don't know them?" He asks, and you shake your head, having every intention to check as he notices something familiar peeking out of one of the car windows. As if on autopilot, he rips his passenger side open, pushes you in, and runs to get inside the drivers seat.

There are shots fired, Mina is holding her hands over her ears as she simply stares at you, who is absolutely shell-shocked.

What the hell just happened?

So yeah, that's how you got here-

In a room that looked awfully like the interrogation rooms in your late night netflix crime shows. There was someone sitting in front of you- Mina's father, watching you, like you were going to do anything. But you were as quiet as a mouse, not saying anything.

"So you didn't know them? At all?" He questioned for the second time in the past ten minutes, and you shook your head. "Hard to believe. Then again, why would you ever tell me that your Dad's brother was sentenced to two years for escorting drugs- only getting two years because he snitched." He said, and your eyes widened.

"Okay what the hell-" You started, but he cut you off.

"Oh, I hit a nerve-" But you weren't having it.

"Oh an I'm gonna hit your pretty nose if you don't stop cutting me off!" You said, making him smirk. For some reason, this was quite entertaining to him- the only woman he ever had in here were so keen on keeping up that shy and innocent facade, that you were a breath of fresh air. "Listen, I don't know why you decided to dig up things that happened when I was literally a TODDLER- or how you even got that information - I swear to god I will really break your nose!" You ended as he had tried to speak again, making him chuckle.

If you weren't being held captive after getting your night ruined you might as well would've thought that was pretty hot.

"I was five years old- I had nothing to do with it, and my dad had no contact whatsoever with his brother after what had happened." You explained. "If you can find that, you can also find that I haven't had contact with my family in years either." You said, leaning back, as he spoke.

"I did. Which is quite confusing to me." He said.

You suddenly went stone cold on him. "It really isnt that deep." You said.

"Were you avoiding them?" He asked. "Because of what happened? Or because your dad got involved into something?"

"Because they're dead." You said.

Well. This was something that made him actually stop and think for a second. He did dig into that nasty part of your family, but he never looked further- their death was something he had overlooked. And by your reaction as you said it, the way you said it, he knew that you weren't lying. "Alright." He said. "But you do realize that I can't just let you go like that, right?" He said.

"Figured." You said. "So, should I stand facing against the wall or with my back against it so you can aim better?" You said, and he took a deep breath. Technically, yes, that would be a logical outcome.

"Neither." He said, and you raised your eyebrow. "I have an offering." He said, and your entire body went stiff, arms crossing in front of your chest. A pure sign of whatever he was going to say, your first reaction would be no. "I need a nanny for Mina." He said, and your lips parted, confusion clear on your face.

He almost thought it was kind of cute.

"You what?" You said.

"I need a nanny for Mina." He repeated. "It's a win-win situation for both of us if you think about it. You get to- in a way- keep your job and a bonus in terms of payment, and I will have someone to take care of Mina. And I also don't have to put a bullet into your pretty little head." He said, leaning forward with the last words.

"This isn't really a question, isn't it?" You said, and he laughed.

"You're smart- I like you."

„But that’s not how daddy does it..“ she wonders, as you tie her shoes for her, before looking up into her eyes. She really does resemble her father. Well, a more innocent version, that is.

„Well everyone does it differently.“ you say, well aware that there were numerous ways to tie a simple bow. „Your daddy probably has learned it from someone who does it like he does. I learned it from my dad.“ you explained as you went to pick up her backpack, carrying it for her as she took your hand.

„yours looks prettier tho!“ she exclaimed happily, a skip in her step as she kept looking at her shoes with a smile. You grinned, a sense of pride filling you. „Daddy‘s always looks crooked on one side-„ she said, before a voice broke through the sweet moment.

„You hurt me Princess. You always said they look nice.“ he hummed from his spot in the doorway, leaned on the frame, looking at you with something you could only describe as unsatisfied, while shooting his daughter a smile.

What the hell have you done wrong now?

This had been something going on for months now. Ever since you started working for him as a nanny, Mina had been nothing but a ray of sunshine- but he, he was not even a raincloud. He was the angry grinch miltiplied by a hundred, ready to piss everyone off twenty-five-eight. Somehow everything you did wasn't up to his standards; the way you cooked for Mina, the way you dressed her, hell, even right now with the way you tied a fucking bow.

You really hoped next time he washed his hands, his sleeves would roll down.

"There's an emergency gun underneath the back-" He started as Mina was out of listening-reach.

"I won't use it." You said.

Jungkook had tried to get you trained at least in the basics of guns- but you practically had an allergy to it, refusing to so much as touch one. He didn't quite know what your problem was, but after a while, he had given up on it- simply sending one of his guards with you whenever he could. By now, you were an easy target as well if found alone, so you had joined him in his place, occupying one of the larger guest rooms. He had said that it was to keep an eye on you, but internally, he simply didn't want you to get hurt.

And yeah, at first that was because he didn't trust you, at all- but by now, somehow, you had sneaked your way into his heart, in a way. Even though he himself would always grumpily comment on it, he loved how you made Mina smile and the entire mansion light up. Things felt a little brighter, a little less tense, and a little less lonely with you around. It felt as if you were an actual family.

And that scared the shit out of him, because in no way was he going to fall for his daughters nanny.

And, after all; you hated his guts.

If Jungkook knew the situation you and Mina had gotten yourselves into, you don't know if he would be proud of her or kill you.

Turns out that the guard Jungkook had sent you out with wasn't actually following his orders at all, but words from a different person entirely- you imagined they were highly likely the one's out to shoot you back when you first met the tall mafia boss and father. Now, the only thing they definitely did not get right however, was that you were Mina's mother- and someone Jungkook valued enough to give up his safety. This was true for Mina; the young child was his everything, and he'd cut off his limbs just to know her safe and sound- but you? That was just absolutely stupid. Sure, you've been living together for quite some time now, and he stopped trying to mentally push you down the stairs every morning as well. But there was nothing more than a mild case of friend- and partnership. You weren't being emo; Jungkook had, after all, said it again and again that he had crossed out the dating game. He's got enough trouble with Mina and you, he had said.

Well, seemed like one of those issues would solve itself.

"Again, what're you gonna do?" You say, as Mina looks at you from out of the vents above you had helped her into seconds ago.

"Crawl where the nice air is, call daddy- and don't look back." She repeats proudly, but you can see it clearly that she's just as scared as you are.

"Exactly, good job princess." You praise, and she nods with a pout. "Once daddy gets you, you'll be safe." You promise, and she wants to complain- but you don't let her, closing the vent again as you hear her shuffling away. This was fine. Mina would be safe, Jungkook would have one person less to worry about- he could move away, bring her to a different part of the country where no one knew her, and she could simply go to school next year and forget all of this ever happened.

You were just a bit sad that you'd never get to see it.

Of course you weren't her mother- but it was hard not to let her inside your heart, with the way she was. The charms her dad didn't have, she got them times ten. She was just so sweet, and you were around her all the time, it was hard not to somehow grow fond of her. You just hoped she'd be alright.

"Where's the kid, whore?!" A guard yelled after noticing you were the only one left in the room. You simply smiled, not answering, before he grabbed your neck, pulling you up as much as he could as he fumed. "Save that stupid grin for your son of a bitch at home." He barks, and you desperately try to breathe- unsuccessfully so, until he forcefully pushes you back down, the back of your head hiding the concrete floor with a sickening crack. You squealed out in pain, holding onto the spot for dear life as if that would somehow help it- but it didn't. "I knew sluts like you have to be tied up. You're all just trouble." He says, pulling you by your legs as another set of people come in, binding your legs and hands. You can already feel your fingers getting cold from how tight your wrists are tied- but you black out from the kick to your stomach before you can quite dwell on it.

"Fuck!" He yells, before he gets up, hands in his hair to somehow help himself not punch the laptop on his table. He's seen it, seen it all- from the moments you would shield Mina like a fearless lioness, the second you had lifted her up into the vents even though he knew your shoulder had to be in horrible pain, to the very moment you had faced the consequences of your actions. He hated that he had to wait, that he had to simply sit here in his office like a coward just to watch you take the beatings.

Because here was the thing with Jungkook; even though he liked to portray himself as someone who always takes the upper hand in things and troubles, when it came to his own personal life far away from his criminal business he ran, he couldn't seem to ever make up his mind. It was like a repeat of his past love affair- but instead of his ex-wife cheating and leaving him with a child, there was you, in some way fighting like a true lionness in order to keep said child safe and sound, even though you didn't even had to. Technically, this would've been the perfect opportunity for you to finally get your freedom back in a way. Because without Mina, there was no use for you being in his grasp anymore. Without her, there was no agreement between the two of you.

And yet there you were. And yet again, he simply watched, simply did nothing.

The entire mansion was already on high alert by now; his most trusted friends Seokjin and Yoongi already out to your location- he could wait. He could wait. He could wait.

Everything would somehow turn out to be just fine by the end of this day. He would successfully take his daughter into his arms, Yoongi and Seokjin would get you out of there, and after a good nights sleep and some first aid for you, things would just return to normal.

But what was normal at this point?

He didn't want things to continue like they did currently. He wanted change, for the first time in his life. He wanted to tell you about his inner thoughts, about his desires concerning you and his future. He wanted to tell you that he didn't just want you to be at his home and with him and his daughter just because of some stupid agreement. He didn't want you to stay with him because he forced you to.

His phone began to chime, your face greeting him as the caller ID as he accepts it. "Daddy-" His heart sinks down to the floor as he hears Mina sniffle on the other side of the line. He has to wait, he thinks, repeats like a mantra. He has to somehow calm her down, tell her everything's alright- "They're hurting mommy!" Mina wails, and somehow, those words make him snap.

Fuck waiting.

In a way, Mina was a smart kid. She had been nothing but understanding when Jungkook and her mother had broken up- divorced, and fought until she eventually left for good. She had been a little sad for a long time, thinking it had somehow been her fault; but he had assured her, and later on, explained, that Mommy simply didn't love Daddy anymore. In Daycare, she was one of the most well behaved kids ever encountered- careful, and calm. Of course she got excited and happy and sometimes made a mess; but she also was very careful who she interacted with, what kinds of friends she made, and how much she talked about home. She never complained, never threw public tantrums.

Jungkook truly was lucky- that the only thing left of his shattered marriage had been her.

He never had relationships after that- never dated, never truly searched for someone. No one, in his eyes, was worth the risk- and even after meeting you, that was his opinion. But as cliche as it sounded, you were quite different from anyone he'd ever met before.

You spoke your mind; always saying what bothered you, never beating around the bush. Yet, you weren't being a bitch about things. No, you actually could be pretty cute if you wanted to be- be it the moments he had caught you and Mina sneak a taste of her birthday cake in the middle of the night, or the one time he had been sick.

You had been such an angel to him.

Helping him towards the bathroom, never even scrunching your nose in distaste whenever he had to throw up. You simply rubbed his back, helping him towards the sink to rinse, just to lead him back into his bedroom. You had aired the room out, made the bed, made sure that he was staying hydrated and at least tried to eat every day- all without any complains.

Maybe that was the moment his perspective of you shifted into dangerous territory.

He had somehow become hyperaware of the things you did. How well you got along with Mina, how easy going you were becoming with him- how confident yet nurturing and sweet you were, gently scolding him sometimes to not overwork himself. You always made sure his kid felt happy and was healthy, never so much as whined about your past friendships lost; you had simply accepted the new situation.

In a way, you were what he silently dreamed of at night.

Because as much as he loved the sight of you holding Mina whenever she had a nightmare and couldn't sleep, he somehow also craved to be held throughout the night by your arms. Just like he held his daughter in that moment after she had climbed out of the vent into his arms. He could make out some of her words as he simply let himself feel her tiny body in his arms for a moment. Just to make sure she was really there, really alright, really out of harms way. She kept on crying out for you, for him to help you, to save you-

So it was only natural for him to jump out of his car and run after Seokjin, Yoongi, and their squad, as they entered the building.

Sometimes at night, when you got aware of all the different sounds of the room, you heard the blood rush inside your brain.

Just like now; but now, it was so loud that you could barely hear anything else. Things seemed hazy, fuzzy, your ears stuffed with cotton wool drowning out any sounds might happening around you. Your eyes stayed closed, light way too bright for your raging headache- and the stale metal taste on your tongue wasn't helping either. Your hands had started to tingle long ago, and your knees were hurting from being in the same position for this long. But the moment someone touched you next, it wasn't forceful. It was so gentle, and almost- scared?

You couldn't hear, but you could feel. How the rope was cut, blood rushing painfully into your hands and legs again, pins and needles making them hypersensitive as you were suddenly held- moved, carried?

It smelled like home, that was something your dizzy mind was able to properly make out. It smelled like Jungkooks mansion, and a bit like his office- a faint vanilla hitting your senses, making you faintly smile as your hand reached out, unknowingly grabbing his shirt, holding the fabric as tight as you could as you moaned out in pain when he placed you down again, warmth surrounding you.

Maybe you were dying?

Or maybe not.

Because after some hazy and confusing dreams, you slowly came back to your senses. Eyes opening slowly, there it was; the curtains you knew so well, the balcony opened, air crisp and fresh around you as the door opened. You wanted to move your head, but the fear of triggering another headache was too big.

"Y/N?" Jungkooks voice asked, warm, and almost hesitant. You hummed, and he snapped his head around, noticing that yes- after days of sleeping and slipping in and out of consciousness you were actually awake again. He walked into your field of vision, looking so casual; his white button up undone at the first two buttons, sleeves rolled up as he sat down close to you, palm on the blanket covering you as he-

smiled?

"W-" You had to cough a bit before clearing your throat. "Who are you and what have you done to Jungkook?" You said, and he chuckled, sighing in relief- you had, after all, not lost your charm.

"I think past Jungkook had a moment of self-reflection." He said, watching you as his hand placed itself onto yours, warmth spreading over your skin. "I'm glad you're okay." He admitted. "And thank you. For keeping.. Mina safe." He ended, and you smiled.

"That's literally my job." You said, and he got more serious.

"No, and you know what I mean." His voice was deep and rough, yet held no authority like usual. "You had chances to tell them who you were. That you had no connection to me other than through her; yet you didn't. And we both know why." He said, and you looked at him.

"There are more reasons than just one." You said, eyes drifting to his now empty ring finger on the hand resting on his thigh.

"Does it matter which one I mean?" He asked, and you wanted to scoff.

"It does to me." You said, and he shifted closer after a second, properly holding your hand now as he looked at yours- still a little scratched, but nothing that wouldn't heal.

"You did it because that's the reason you live here." He said. "You also did it because you adore her just as much as I do. And you.." He began, but grew unsure.

"And I?" You smiled, and he looked at you with his typical seriousness.

"And you somehow got stuck in an emotional mess." He explained. "You somehow, deep down, wanted it to be true." His thumb moved over the back of your hand as he spoke. "You wished that.. maybe there was more to it than just, partnership." He said, and you still smiled gently.

"Did I now?" You teased, but to your surprise, he was still looking straight at you.

"I know I did." He humms out. "I still do."

"You're stupid." You said, and he laughed bitterly, taking your words the wrong way as he slipped his out of yours.

"I know." He said, getting up to leave but stopped as you spoke.

"Good." You said, chuckling before coughing. "What, no kiss for me after all I've been through?" You giggled as his wide eyes stared at you. "Rude." You said, and he suddenly realized that no- you weren't rejecting him. You were accepting.

You felt the same.

Noticing his own awkwardness, he leaned over, hands supporting his body as he leaned down, properly placing his lips onto yours. You had never imagined what kissing Jungkook would feel like, but you certainly would've never guessed how gentle and absolutely loving it would be. One of his hands moved towards your cheek, holding it, as if you were the most precious thing he'd ever seen.

"Mommy!" Came Mina's excited voice, cries instantly noticable as she jumped onto the bed, burying her head into your chest as you held her, a few tears in your eyes from her jumping.

"Mina baby, be careful okay?" He said. But your words were the reason that he ended up tearing up, at the end.

"Mommy's still hurting baby." You said. "But she'll get better soon."

Not even during the first few magical months of being together with his past ex, had it ever felt like this.

He was euphoric almost; with the way you felt, moved, breathed. It all felt like so much to him, made him feel so.. He couldn't explain it. He had his hands on your hips, fingers careful not to press too hard, but having enough force to move you back and forth over his lap- his length moving in and out of your heat, making you whine, as he watched your breasts in front of him. You fit so perfectly like this, felt so amazing, managed to make him feel needy instead of the other way around.

He turned you over slipping out of you sloppily as he moved positions, now above you as he spread your legs, entering you again easily. He pulled you by your thighs, holding you in place as he began to thrust again, your eyes closing with every movement of his hips.

He loved the sight of it.

Deep down he wanted to take the condom off; he wanted to fill you up, cum inside over and over and over until your cunt would overflow. Not only just to claim you in a weird animalistic sense, but to also make his family complete. He had cut his ties to his illegal activities by now, had settled down with you- and he knew, there was no other person he'd ever have a child with again than with you. "I want to cum inside." He said breathlessly, making you whine in return. "Hm, you'd like that?" He asked teasingly, his thrusts gaining more strength as if to underline his statement. "Stuff you full of my cum, make you leak it and mess up the sheets.." He continues, hand reaching between the two of you to find your clit. "just to make love to you over and over again. I wanna make you cry." He gritted out, suddenly moving you around face down. He pulled up your lower body, entering you again, gliding in easily with the amount of slick you were leaking. "And you'd take it wouldn't you?" He asks, making you nod and groan out as he grows more desperate, faster, harder- throwing you off the edge but never stopping. "You're gonna take it until I cum, don't you dare move away from me." He scolds, holding you tightly, making you gasp out in overstimulation as he continues on, chasing his own high.

He reaches it with a loud groan, burying himself deep inside as he holds you, peppering kisses onto your spine. "I love you, hm.." He whispers out. "So good, so pretty.. all mine.." He huffs, simply falling onto the mattress with you in his arms, cock still buried inside you.

There was a moment of silence, until he spoke again. "I really do mean it though." He said earning only a tired humm from you. He simply chuckled at that, holding you close as he decided to maybe bring that topic up when the timing was a bit better.

For once, he felt like a normal person. Right next to you, in your arms, as you turned around to pull him close, burying your face into his chest.

Right where he belonged.

#jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jk imagine #jungkook x reader #bts imagine #mafia bts #mafia jungkook #bts smut #jungkook smut

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danascullysjournal · 3 years ago

Text

If You Will Let Me

Post-Milagro X-Files Fanfic

Chapter 7: Dumplin

“Every time I think Kersh can’t get worse, he does,” Mulder muttered, staring out the streaked truck stop window. The diner within was pleasant enough, torn from the 1950s. Faded, vinyl-graced booth seating, ripped and sagging, lines the perimeter of the restaurant. Matching ripped barstools surrounded the diner counter where flickering neon tubing glowed in signs that beckoned “EAT.” A stainless steel, rotating pie case towered on one side of the diner bar, showing off mountains of merengue and piles of apple crumble. It spun slowly and glowed with a dull electric hum. If nothing else good came from this assignment, at least Mulder would get some pie on the FBI’s dime, he promised himself. He sipped his coffee and rubbed his face with his free hand. “Laroy, Illinois…. Is a truck stop and a stop sign. He’s not even trying to pretend it’s not punitive anymore. There’s nothing in this town. It isn’t even a town…. Besides, there are other offices closer to this farm. They could do the inspection. Kersh yells at us for spending government money and then sends us halfway across the country on the FBI’s dime…”

Scully looked over at him across the yellowed diner table and sipped her coffee.

“We do what we have to do,” she said, resignation staining her voice. She saw him bristle at this.

“Don’t talk like that, Scully.”

She sighed. “It’s true. In many things.”

Mulder looked up at her, confusion and irritation furrowing his brow.

“I know Kersh wants us to quit. He pushes, and pushes… “ Scully trailed off for a moment, lost in thought. “I can’t let him win.”

“Then why the hell are you letting him demand your qualifying paperwork and target? You know he can look up your qualifications himself. He’s just out to demean you. In person. He just wants to lord over you.” Mulder was livid.

“Because,” she paused. How much did she want to lay bare? It was a constant dance, her control and her emotions, each trying to lead the other. And lately, the emotions were winning. “I know you. And I know you’ll fight him, Mulder. Especially for me…” how heavy those words felt as they fell off her tongue.

“Of course I will, Scully,” Mulder said, his eyes locked on hers with conviction and care. “I will always fight for you.”

Scully felt her neck beginning to flush pink. Absurd. He didn’t mean it the way he said it. Certainly not. She was just… feeling weak? Was that it? She was so raw recently, after Padgett. Things affected her that she knew were benign. She swallowed hard.

“Well. I also know Kersh. And if he can find a reason to reassign me…. He will.” Scully watched Mulder’s face as he took in this truth. “He said it himself. If I’m not needed, there’s no reason for this partnership. He would separate us.” She felt her stomach drop at the thought.

Mulder nodded slowly, finally understanding. “You’re right.”

“I don’t want that, Mulder.” She straightened up, crossing her arms protectively around her petite frame. “I don’t want to lose you, and I don’t want to jeopardize our work…. You’re important to me.” It was a simple fact, but once she said it, her stomach clenched, waiting for his reply.

He wanted to believe there was love behind those words. But he couldn’t be sure. Dana Scully was a book to him… and sometimes, she was as readable as plain English. Other times, she was ancient Coptic… decipherable, but not without considerable study and suffering. Today, it was the latter. He didn’t know what to think or do, so he just smirked.

“I’m not that easy to get rid of, Scully. I’m a bad penny.”

“You’re not.” She grinned back, shaking her head. “You’ve never brought me any bad luck.”

Mulder stopped smiling suddenly, sobered by her words. Yes, in fact, he had brought her bad luck. Plenty of it. Padgett was just the most recent acquisition.

“Warm up, either of you?” the diner waitress lilted at them, a welcomed interruption to his feelings of guilt. She held out acrid coffee in a friendly gesture.

Scully looked down at her half-full cup, black grounds swirling in the bottom like silt in the Mississippi River.

“Um, no thank you.” She smiled politely.

Mulder held out his mug. “Yes please. And would you mind telling us a decent place to spend the night around here?”

“Oh, ain’t nowhere close by,” the waitress said apologetically. “Cept if you count the Golden Shamrock Inn. But that ain’t really a place for a couple wanting to relax, honey.”

Couple. They glanced at each other. How many times had that been the assumption? Mulder desperately wanted it to be true.

“Oh, well. We aren’t your normal couple,” Mulder smiled up at the blonde waitress. “We love… seeing the country. Real grass roots people. That’s how we like to travel, ya know. It’s so much better than the fancy hotels and the snobby city people we are so used to being around. Isn’t that right, honey?” He tilted his head to Scully, a wry smile plastered on his face. He did love this little game of pretend they sometimes played.

Scully grinned and shook her head almost imperceptibly, arching her eyebrow.

“That’s right, dumplin.”

“Oh, you two are the cutest little things!” the waitress said, laughing. “I hope I find me someone like that someday. Well it’s about twenty miles or so, I think, but there��s nowhere else on the highway for prolly an hour. Lemme go grab a pen and napkin and I’ll draw you directions.”

“And a piece of apple pie, please!” Mulder called after her.

As the waitress retreated behind the rotating pie display, Mulder couldn’t help a small chuckle.

“Dumplin?”

Scully grinned. “Shut up, Mulder.”

————————————-

“Our kind of place, huh?” Mulder smiled at Scully, who was staring, eyebrows raised, lips pursed, at the peeling white paint and faded green doors of the motel. He put his hands on his hips, turning around in the gravel parking lot to take it all in.

It had taken longer than either of them wanted to decipher the napkin map from the friendly waitress, and the sun was dipping behind the tree line, promising fireflies and a decent night breeze.

The faded metal shamrock that towered over the Golden Shamrock Inn was almost half the size of the motel itself. The lightbulbs that outlined its frame had long since burned out, forgotten, and rust stains dripped down from the aging metal seams, through the faded lettering and down the pole that strained to hold it up. It had once been golden, perhaps, but was now a flaking, muted tan, and stood as a decrepit relic of roadside attractions and the glittering style of over-the-top Route 66 memorabilia that was forgotten in this tiny corner of the country.

Across the street, an abandoned antique mall peered at them with broken glass windows, remnants of shelving mingling with birds nests. A faded Big Boy statue with a busted head stared vacantly at them from the mall doorway. A two pump gas station glowed awkwardly next door, old by gas station standards, but by far the best kept of the three structures. Silhouettes of trees gnarled together behind the buildings on both sides of the gravel road, blocking what was left of the small community, if that was what it was. Mulder nodded approvingly, starting toward the motel office door.

“Perfect,” he commended it again. “Well, let’s go get some rest before our exciting day tomorrow.”

Scully just groaned, picked up her suitcase, and trudged behind him.

Mulder paid for two rooms. He took two keys. But he knew that if tonight was anything like last night, or the night before that, they would stay together, and he would whisper to calm her in her sleep when the nightmares came. It wasn’t how he wanted to spend his night with her, exactly, but he was still with her. And that’s all that really mattered.

“C’mon, Dumplin,” Mulder sang out as he left the office, jingling the keys in his hand. Scully stifled a tired laugh.

“Shut up, Mulder.”

——————————

Notes:

This fic is part of a larger work delving into ptsd Scully must work through after being physically and mentally assaulted by Padgett in Milagro.

Mulder is her rock. ♥️

#txf #msr #msr fanfic #fluff #mulder and scully #fluff and some world building for fun #honestly it’s the calm before the storm #not an actual town but if you’ve ever been to the Midwest #then you know

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halstudandruz · 4 years ago

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Research Purposes ~ Part 2

*Not my gif*

Pairing: Jay x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: What happens when the only person in the world you didn’t want finding out does?

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Part one found here (NSFW, 18+)

A/N 2: Also thank you to @enchantedblackrose for the idea 😊

If you are not 18+ and are unable to read part 1 and want to back story just hit me up (:

“We’re so freaking late. There’s no way we’ll have time to stop for my car.” You rushed around Jay’s apartment, pouring coffee for both of you.

“And whose fault is that.” Jay looked at you accusingly.

“I was just trying to help the environment.” You shrugged, handing him his cup after checking the lid.

“You and I both know we wasted more water in there together than we would’ve showering on our own.” He retorted grabbing his badge and gun off the coffee table to secure them to his belt.

“Yeah okay so I wanted shower sex sue me.” You rolled your eyes shrugging your jacket on.

“I wasn’t the one complaining.” He smiled, taking a drink.

“We would’ve had more than enough time if you didn’t insist on cuddling this morning.” You pointed out, remembering how he pulled you back into his chest every time you tried to move out of bed a couple hours prior.

“You like shower sex. I like cuddling.” He teased handing you your purse.

“Maybe we can draft up an alternate schedule.” You joked.

“I do hear compromise is the key to a healthy relationship.” He replied.

“We gotta go if you don’t want to get pulled over for speeding.” You changed the subject reaching for the door knob, before being tugged back by your arm, turning in time for Jay’s lips to meet yours in a sweet, passionate kiss.

“To get us both through the day.” Jay winked reaching around you to open the door and usher you out.

This was the second time that week you and Jay would be showing up to work together. Nobody noticed it the first time, but your anxiety climbed at the thought of someone recognizing and approaching you about it. What would you say? You and Jay were only in it purely for the sex. Right? Regardless of that fact that you had stayed at his house almost every night the past couple weeks even without the promise of sex, or how your stuff was starting to accumulate at his house from the past few months. A few t-shirts mixed in with his, hair straightener resting on his bathroom organizer, makeup scattered about on the dresser. Friends with benefits, that’s all it was. Nothing more and you certainly were not gaining feelings for him. Absolutely not that was against the rules and you were not about to be some stereotypical fuck buddy turned feelings trope, but you were getting sloppy apparently. You agreed to enter through the front while Jay entered through the back. Skipping up the steps you threw a smile at Trudy offering her a good morning, but in return she stared you down, eyebrow raised as she rested against the desk.

“What?” You stopped in your tracks in front of her. But she stayed silent giving you a look, and you just knew she knew. She was Trudy Platt. She knew everything.

“You should tell him.” She whispered to you, and it’s not the first time she had said something of the sort recently.

“Tell who, what?” You continued to fake innocence as you had the times before.

“It’s going to end badly.” She pushed again.

“It already did end badly.” You reminded her before trudging upstairs feeling the heat of her stare still on your back. Everyone except Kim was already there, including Jay who had his feet kicked up on his desk looking through a file. You greeted everyone draping your coat over the back of your chair and falling into it.

The first hour ticked by slowly, and you found your eyes moving across the room to focus on Jay. Opened documents lay across your desk. He looked so relaxed, shoulders loose, breaths slow and even, head resting against his palm as he fought not to fall asleep. You knew he would rather be out chasing suspects, but deep down you were starting to register you were okay with paperwork days. It meant he was safe, and that thought scared you a little. The last time you had those same thoughts you were staring at a different man in the room. A man who sat not too far behind Jay, clicking his pen absentmindedly as he often did when he was bored.

“Ruz, I’ll break the damn pen.” Kevin grumbled, as he had many times before in response to the habit.

“Sorry.” Adam mumbled, setting the utensil onto his desk away from his fidgety hands.

You chuckled at the small exchange, experiencing the exact same one many times in the years you had been detailed in intelligence with the best people you could’ve ever asked to work with. That certainly didn’t mean it wasn’t complicated though, and you were the very obvious example of that. You watched Jay’s head bob catching himself before adjusting in order to keep himself awake. His eyes accidentally met yours, heart rate immediately increasing. He sent you a small smile as his eyes started to roam over your body. Looking for a distraction from the tedious work. You couldn’t scold him. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been doing the same thing the past 10 minutes. Looking at his arms that were tight against his sleeves you wondered if the scratch marks you left on his biceps this morning would still be prevalent, or if the fading hickey from nights prior was still noticeable on his hip bone.

“I need coffee. Anyone else?” You asked trying to divert the obvious eye fucking your were giving each other. Everyone in the room raising their hands. You laughed taking notice of all the tired eyes who so obviously wanted to bash their heads off the desk already bored out of their minds, just waiting for a case to jump off.

“I’ll help.” Jay offered, voice gruff from barely speaking all morning. Together you poured and distributed everyone cups. Sitting back down into your chair when Jay was handing Kev his.

“You gonna shave that thing anytime soon? You usually can’t stand it past a week.” Kevin asked Jay, referring to his beard. They had always teased him whenever he claimed it grew in patchy compared to Adam and Kevin’s and it usually resulted in him having a clean shaven face the next shift. But it had grown in quite nicely this time, and he made sure to keep it presentable by trimming it as needed.

“No, it’s starting to grow on me. I’m keeping it for research anyway. Seems it can enhance far more than just my facial features.” Jay shrugged casually sitting back down atin his chair, and at his words you choked on your coffee spitting it all over your desk. Uncontrollable coughs tickling your throat.

“You good [Y/L/N]?” Hailey asked standing up to help you.

“Yeah..sorry. Just.. went down the wrong pipe. Didn’t expect it to be so.. hot.” You explained between coughs looking across the room to glare at Jay who wore a cocky smirk on his face, flipping through papers not daring to look up at you.

“You forget your ice?” Adam asked, knowing you had put a couple cubes of ice in your coffee every morning cooling it down so you could drink it faster.

“I must’ve. Kinda out of it today.” You shook your head taking napkins out of your drawer to try to clean up the mess you had made on your desk as well as your white shirt.

“I’ll get you some.” He started to walk towards the break room.

“It’s really okay I spit most of it out anyway.” You laughed.

“I’ll just get you a new cup.” He reasoned and you just thanked him not feeling like bickering with him about it. He had been going out of his way to do nice things for you recently. You assumed either so you wouldn’t spill the beans about him and Upton or because he felt bad.

“There’s no way this is coming out..” You grumbled dabbing at the tan stain forming on your shirt, “Do you happen to have a spare?” You asked, turning towards Hailey.

“I’m sorry I don’t. I used my spare the other day after that shooting and haven’t brought another extra.” Hailey apologized. You waved her off thanking her anyway.

“There’s one in my locker.” Jay offered, “You’ll probably just have to tuck it in.” You thought for a moment, it probably wouldn’t look like a big deal. Just a friend helping out a friend.

“Okay. Thanks.” You nodded getting up to head to the locker room where Jay followed. “I know where your locker is.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yes, but you don’t know my combination nor are you very good at opening dial locks. Hence why you have a keypad one on yours.” Jay pointed out, spinning his combination. He was right. You could never open dial locks.

“Do you analyze everything I do?” You crossed your arms annoyed at how well he always seemed to know you.

“You’re an interesting person babe.” He smiled handing you the shirt as he kissed your forehead.

“Watch yourself. You don’t know who’s hiding in here.” You lectured, “this is your fault by the way.”

“I know. Total win-win situation.” Jay laughed, smiling brightly.

“You’re gonna be the death of me Jay Halstead.” You groaned, a small smile on your lips.

“What a way to go though, huh?” He quipped, giving you a quick kiss.

“Get out.” You pushed his chest.

“What? No free peep show? I offered you my shirt and everything.” He acted offended.

“They’re gonna start getting suspicious if we are in here any longer go.” He huffed at your reply giving in and leaving as you turned around to switch shirts. Jay’s scent immediately overwhelmed you as you slipped his shirt on. Causing your body to relax in turn at the familiar fragrance. Jay was right, you had to tuck the shirt into your jeans, otherwise it could’ve been a dress thanks to your large height difference. Turning to walk out of the locker room, you were met with Adam holding a new cup of coffee out to you making you jump at the unexpected body in your path. “Thank you.” You giggled taking it from his hand to take a drink.

“Did you change?” He asked, eyeing the shirt you now wore.

“Oh yeah. I had white on and it was gonna stain so Jay offered me his shirt.” You explained, shifting on your feet at the uncomfortable conversation.

“Well I have one. It might fit you better.” He offered moving to walk towards his locker, but you put a hand to his chest stopping him.

“I’m good this one is perfectly fine.” You reassured him, Adam stared at you, breaking the tense silence with a long sigh, leaning against the side of the lockers.

“Listen we never got to talk about that night you came to my apartment. I just wanted to say I’m really sorry you-“ He began to apologize when Kevin peeked his head in the door.

“Hey, I’m sorry to interrupt..” he looked between the two of you awkwardly, “but we just got a case.” Adam cleared his throat as you nodded,

“We can..finish this later.” You chewed on your lip pushing past him to grab your coat out of Kevin’s hand.

It was nearing 8 o’clock by the time Voight had given you guys permission to go home and get some sleep. Knowing you’d be returning bright and early in the morning to continue to case.

“What do you think about pizza tonight? I’ve been craving some Bartolis.” Jay asked walking down the stairs behind you.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” You stopped turning to face him when you rounded the corner out of sight.

“Well I can just get pizza and I’ll stop for whatever else you want too.” He offered.

“I’m not talking about food, Jay.” You laughed, looking at the ground. Your mind had been racing since showing up with Jay this morning.

“Then..what are you talking about?” He asked, stepping closer towards you.

“I mean I don’t know I’ve been at your place almost every night the last couple weeks.” You whispered, hoping your voice wouldn’t carry to anyone nearby.

“Well we can go to your place. That’s fine.” He reasoned.

“No that’s not..” You sighed not able to find the words.

“Hey, just talk to me. What’s up.” He encouraged hands falling to your hips holding you gently.

“I’m just worried we’re starting to get careless. Showing up to work twice in one week together. One of these days we’re bound to get caught either coming in together or showing up on scene together. We don’t even know what this is. I don’t want to have to talk to Voight about it in the meantime.” You explained.

“We can be more careful. I promise. I just don’t want you to freak out about this.” He assured you tucking your hair behind your ear. “Can we just address how good you look in my shirt. I’m so glad you’re such a klutz..” Jay’s eyes roamed up and down your body.

“I am not a klutz! How did you expect me to react?” You crossed your arms, glaring at him as you did a few hours prior.

“Well is it not the truth? This thing is still on my face purely for your satisfaction.” He reminded you by trailing his lips down your neck, immediately summoning goosebumps from the raggedness tickling in the wake of his lips. He winked knowing his point was proven, moving up to place a soft kiss on your lips. “Sooo pizza?” He asked, pulling back, hopeful look on his face.

“Fine, but I’m not going in to get it.” You rolled your eyes, a bright smile on your face when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders pulling you towards his truck but when you rounded the corner your eyes connected with Adam’s who stood near the door, eyes wide between you two as Jay let his arm fall to his side, your feet rooted to the floor.

“I forgot my wallet in my locker.” Adam explained stammering over his words.

“Well don’t let us keep you. See you tomorrow brother.” Jay remained calm grabbing your arm to pull you out. Patting Adam on the shoulder when you passed.

“Shit!” You cursed when you reached Jay’s truck.

“What?” He questioned and you looked at him dumbfounded.

“You’re fucking kidding me right?” You scoffed.

“He’s not gonna tell Voight. For starters it’s Adam. Plus we know about him and Hailey. He can’t.” He shrugged.

“That’s not what I’m worried about!” You yelled.

“You just said that’s what you were worried about.” Jay reminded you, trying to catch up. “Babe.” He urged when you didn’t answer him.

“You don’t get it Jay!” You shook your head, lump forming in your throat at the anxiety the situation presented.

“No, you’re right I don’t. I’m sorry. Help me understand.” He grabbed a hold of your hand trying to get you to face him.

“Not right now.” You chewed your lip feeling a few tears fall down your cheeks, quickly swiping them away before they were seen, but you knew Jay would know regardless. You were tired, hungry, and now slightly panicking at the thought of having to address the entire situation. His hand squeezed yours tighter before starting his truck putting it in drive.

All Tag List:

@corebore123 @scarletsoldierrr @hehurst23 @beautiful-bunny89 @ingie @halsteadsway @malrunaway @grettiwrites @inlovewith3

Jay Taglist:

@jayxhalsteadx @life-treatments @weepingfestivalmentality @toomuchtv95 @queen-of-arda

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd x reader #Chicago pd #one chicago imagine #one chicago

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kpopxx · 4 years ago

Text

Spy Games [Chapter 1] : More Than It Seems

Characters: Twice Momo, Male Reader

4579 words

Authors Note: This is literally the first fiction writing I have done since I was a little kid writing stories about a town full of hamburgers. I was inspired to try my hand at writing by the plethora of amazing kpop smut writers out there right now, but by @lockefanfic, @nsfwtwicecatcher, @nsfwflint, and @ggidolsmuts in particular. If there are any similarities between my writing and theirs, please forgive me as I’ve spent more hours than I’d care to admit “researching” their work.

One thing that amazes me is how the hell everyone cranks out thousands of words with such frequency, as this post isn’t even 5k and it took forever to write. I can’t begin to explain how much respect I have for all the authors out there who can write so much and maintain such high levels of quality.

As a new writer, I welcome any and all feedback! Feel free to drop me a line if you have any critiques, or if you just want to chat!

***

“Coming up on the target now.”

“Roger that, remember the office is on the top floor. Let us know when you’re inside. And remember, no elevators...” teases your handler, Choa.

“Thanks for the reminder,” you reply sarcastically.

You survey the skyscraper against the night sky--it would be impressive if it weren’t one of a hundred just like it downtown Seoul--and wonder what you had done to deserve getting the short end of the stick. Of course, you knew there was a reason to avoid the elevators: they sat directly in front of the building’s concierge and the cameras in the lobby, while the stairwell lay in a remote part of the first floor. The logic behind your impending hike didn’t make the reality any less abhorrent.

“Meanwhile, Seolhyun gets to infiltrate an organization in the Caymans. Just my fucking luck.” you grumble to yourself.

“Oh, stop whining, you big baby,” says Choa, reminding you to keep your thoughts to yourself.

You sneak past the lobby and towards the back of the floor you find the entrance to the stairwell in a poorly lit area.

“Beginning my climb.” you report, shaking out your legs as you prepare to go up.

“Sir, I-I’m getting some interference over comms,” chimes in the timid voice of the girl you knew to be your newest team member, Yoo Jeongyeon. “It could just be local chatter, but I want to make sure it’s not someone trying to listen in.”

“Probably nothing to worry about, but we’ll let you know if there’s anything you need to worry about.” Choa assures you.

As you climb up the stairs, you wonder why anyone would want to listen in on this particular mission. This was a run-of-the-mill operation to investigate money laundering at an accounting firm. You’d infiltrated foreign governments, broken into and bugged the offices of billionaire CEOs, and tailed enemy agents. You could understand people wanting to hear those comms, but this? Either someone wanted something to listen to as a sleep aid, or this mission was more interesting than it looked.

A tip had come in through one of the new girls at the Intel Desk reporting that there was some fishy activity related to organized crime going on at the accounting firm. This was routine and you’d gone on dozens of similar recon missions before: break in, find suspicious intel, get out. But if someone wanted so badly to hear what was going on, the new girl may have stumbled onto something worthy of a promotion. Hayoung, you think her name was. Her chestnut, shoulder-length hair along with her well-endowed physique reminded you of a young mother, but her mature beauty belied her young age. You had caught yourself more than a few times fantasizing about her in your off hours…

You stop mid-way in the stairwell, scolding yourself for losing focus. Too often over the course of the last year you found yourself fantasizing about the women in your life. Sure, before the incident with Eunha you had sexual thoughts about your coworkers--you were surrounded by beautiful women, after all. But recently you noticed that your life was increasingly preoccupied with sex: both in your thoughts and the real-life exploits you carried out.

Much longer than a few minutes later, you reach the 63rd floor out of breath and sweating, wishing more than ever that it was you and not Seolhyun lounging on the beach. You take a moment to compose yourself before peeking out into the office floor to see if the coast is clear.

“We may have a problem, boss. Jeongyeon looked into the comms disturbance and someone much more sophisticated than the average joe is definitely trying to tap in,” Choa says. “Jeongyeon’s kicking their ass right now blocking their access, but there’s only so much she can do alone. Eventually we’re going to lose control of this channel.”

“Dammit. I knew something was off with this op,” you grumble. “If they want to listen in to whatever I find, it must be important. We’ll go dark. Recon says this should be a quick in and out anyways. I’ll tag you once I’m out.”

“Be careful. Signal us if anything goes wrong. Just don’t do anything stupid.” replies Choa.

“What do you think they pay me all this money for?” you tease, wanting to put her nerves at ease. “See you on the other side. Over and out.”

You could hear the concern in her voice. Even though keeping you safe was part of her job, you knew she cared about you. You also knew as well as she did that anything could go wrong even in the five minutes it would take you to break in, especially when it appeared that someone knew exactly what you were doing.

You switch off your comms link and head out the door and into the office.

It looked exactly as you expected--rows and rows of non-descript cubicles, with a princely office lined with glass walls occupying the far corner. Jeongyeon had retrieved the floor plan by hacking into the building’s security database earlier in the week, and you knew after her effort tonight in detecting and fending off the comms interference that Choa would want you to acknowledge the work the new girl had been putting in. She certainly was more skilled than the five previous team members you’d fired after Eunha, but you found it difficult to bring yourself to praise her. The Ops Officer position she occupied was a sore point for you, after all.

You deftly pick the lock on the corner office door and immediately sit down in front of the terminal on the desk, logging in with the security bypass Jeongyeon drew up.

Again your thoughts drift to Eunha. Eunha was your longtime Ops Officer--highly skilled, you trusted her more than anyone. It also helped that she was your fiance. It made you sad to think about her; about what could have been, what should have been. Over the past year, you were constantly reminded of her absence by the utter incompetence of her replacements. You suppose it was nice that at the very least, Jeongyeon didn’t give you many opportunities to bemoan her performance in the same way--to remind you of Eunha.

You shake your head, compelling yourself to rise out of your funk and get on with the mission.

As you scroll through files, you stop on one with a familiar signature. Reading its contents, your eyes open wider--suddenly you understand why someone would be interested to listen in to your communications. You quickly save the file to your flash drive and stand up to leave, only to be startled by a figure in the doorway.

“Care to tell me what’s on that?” comes a familiar voice from the darkness that you knew to be Hirai Momo’s. Momo was an agent for a foreign espionage agency--you had as friendly a rivalry as you could have when working for different governments.

“What was the point of trying to hack our comms if you were just going to show up and ask me that?”

“I had no intention of coming until you decided to ghost your girlfriends,” teases Momo. “Besides, I like showing you how much better I am at sneaking around.”

Momo flicks on the light and she comes into focus. The Japanese government made a good decision when they hired her, you think. She was built for the job of a seductive spy. Her perfectly toned legs had a lovely sheen all the way up to her short skirt, while her cleavage suggested that her tits were ready to burst out of her tight, patterned blouse. Where most of your attention was drawn, however, was her lustrous blue hair, which fell to her shoulders.

“I may actually need your help with this, once you see what’s on it,” you say, nodding your head at the flash drive.

“Oh, so you’re willing to give it to me? I thought I was going to have to fuck you for it,” she says sarcastically. You knew behind the humor was more than a nugget of truth, though. Sex had been the primary vehicle for information trading with Momo over the years. You decide to test your reading of the situation.

“Just because I need your help doesn’t mean I’m giving it for free…”

Momo brings her thumb to her mouth and bites gently as she ponders your not-so-subtle proposition. She takes her turn to look you up and down, making you feel more than a little self conscious in her gaze of judgment. After so many years in the dangerous world of espionage, there were only a handful women who could make you feel so small. Then again, Momo was no regular girl.

Once she’s satisfied she has properly appraised your worth, Momo lets go of her thumb and straightens her blouse.

“Fine,” she says matter-of-factly, “let’s get to it,” unbuttoning her blouse as she walks towards you.

You are surprised by the lack of fight she put up, but you thought it best to keep that to yourself. Her tone reminds you of a business meeting--that is, if you hadn’t seen her pull her top off as she approached you. She sits in your lap on the chair, wrapping her arms around your neck as you meet her lips for a kiss. Momo’s mouth was familiar to you, introduced to you many times throughout your career. It seemed like every time you ran across her you had sex. One thing you adored about your relationship with her was that it was absolutely without strings attached. You fucked for work, but just because it was part of the job didn’t mean you both didn’t enjoy it.

Momo, however, was loath to admit the pleasure she got out of her liaisons with you. Call it pride, call it being professional, whatever--Momo refused to act like sex with you was anything other than work, no different than working in a spreadsheet.

You feel her reach down to your pants, quickly unbuttoning them as she sinks to her knees in front of you. You smirk--her eagerness to please you betrayed her air of ambivalence.

Momo wastes no time getting down to business. You are certain the Japanese trained her very well in tender foreplay, but it seems she doesn’t care much for subtlety at the moment. Instead, she utilizes a more direct method to extract your pleasure--one that must have required its own fair share of training--as she spits on your cock before immediately forcing it as deeply in her mouth as she can take it. One, two, three bobs is all it takes for her to reach the base of your cock, her nose buried in your pelvis.

“Fuuuck me, that’s good,” you groan as you hold her head in place for several seconds, and Momo replies in turn with a cough that spits a healthy serving of saliva on to your cock. You release your grip on the back of her head to give her a chance to breathe, but she surprises you when she simply continues to work her mouth on your increasingly saliva-drenched cock, swirling her tongue around your base. Most of the other women you had slept with in recent months would be gasping for air by now, but Momo’s demeanor was cool, calm, and collected. Almost as if she was reading your mind, Momo paused her slurping and pulled her mouth off your shaft--but not forgetting to continue stroking it with achingly deft corkscrew motions.

“What’s the matter? Girls in your department not able to take care of your cock like a real woman?” Momo clicks her tongue and grins. “I’ve told you for years, you’d never be treated so poorly if you came to work for a professional outfit like ours.”

“Shut up and suck my cock.”

Momo shrugs, and gets back to the task at hand. Slobbering even more as she takes you into your mouth again, you pause to thank your lucky stars that you had a job that paid you in part to fuck women like Momo. You gaze upon her face, which has become just as messy as your cock. Momo’s sloppy blowjob has not only left liberal amounts of spit on your cock, but on her face as well--with strands of her blue hair plastered to her cheeks. Even though you thought it impossible, you feel your cock get harder at the sight of Momo’s messy face.

For several minutes, Momo continues inhaling your cock as you find yourself nearing the point of no return, you yank Momo’s head off your throbbing cock in order to prolong your session. A bit too forcefully, it seems, as Momo falls over onto her side.

“What the fuck!” yelps Momo as she picks herself back up, glaring at you. “I suck your cock and you thank me by throwing me on the ground?

“I didn’t mean to, I’m just not ready to cum yet. We both know you would’ve ignored me if I had asked you to stop.”

“I guess you’re right about that,” Momo replies sheepishly. You knew from previous run-ins with her that she loved nothing more than swallowing cum. Even though you had just denied her that favor, you were already thinking about how to make it up to her in a few minutes.

“How about I repay your kindness? Get up on the table and let me eat you.”

“Let’s skip the pleasantries. I’ll get up on the table, but you’re going to fuck me.”

“Someone’s eager to see what’s in this thumb drive,” you tease, inadvertently reminding yourself that this was a transactional liaison. You suspected that Momo’s interest in you extended beyond her desire for the information at hand, and part of you yearned to take her outside of the confines of work. You’re skeptical such a day would ever come, however, given how ambitious Momo was.

You knew her story--she applied for a job in the Japanese spy agency several years ago, making it all the way through the process before being cut at the very end. She ended up receiving an offer shortly after one of the other finalists died in a ‘training accident’, but Momo lived with a chip on her shoulder ever since. She lived and worked with a pathological drive to prove the agency wrong in their original decision to cut her. Already the youngest lead operative in her country’s history, she had an eye on the directorship and seemed destined for it. So, you supposed, it was nice to be able to fuck her before she became famous.

Momo hops on up on the desk, hiking up her skirt to reveal a delicious-looking blue thong that matches her hair. She looks behind towards you with lust heavy in her eyes as she pulls her thong to the side, revealing her glistening pussy--already dripping, you noted.

“I don’t have all night.”

More than happy to oblige, you line your painfully throbbing cock up with her pussy and you can feel the warmth radiating from it. You take a second to appreciate Momo’s incredible physique as your hands graze downward from her upper back, to her hips, and finally to her ass. As you rub it, you cannot help but appreciate how sublimely taut it is.

“Jeeze, you act like this is the first time you’ve seen a woman naked,” Momo jabs, interrupting your reverie.

You are starting to get annoyed with Momo’s demeanor. It was nothing new, really--she always carried an air of superiority--but it nonetheless grates on your nerves to see her be so dismissive. You are mature enough to understand that at least a part of this aggravation had to do with the fact that you knew Momo slept with plenty of men for work. Not so mature, however, to be able to stifle the primal urge deep inside of you that wanted Momo to see you as the best of all her lovers. More than ever, it seemed that sexual vanity mattered a great deal to your self-confidence.

With a renewed sense of purpose and your cock in hand, you enter Momo slowly with a long stroke until you fill her to the hilt. In unison with your initial insertion, Momo lets out a whine that crescendos as you bottom out.

As you begin to thrust in and out Momo settles in and widens her stance ever so little, which has the added benefit of allowing you to go even deeper into her warm, wet pussy. Momo was not a girl of surprises. Her face was gorgeous, capable of angelic beauty and fiery lust. Her body reflected the many hours she spent in the gym with ample breasts, insanely tight abs, and a toned ass to match. Her pussy feels exactly as sublime as her beautiful face and incredible body suggested. The perfect combination for a woman who used her body to seduce and take advantage of brainless men. You decide to push out your mind the realization that at this very moment, you are in fact one of those men.

You wanted to make sure Momo felt each and every drive into her hot flesh. Momo continued to moan quietly, each breath punctuated with a new thrust and the sound of your skin meeting hers.

“Looks like someone’s gotten real quiet all of a sudden,” you say, noticing her haughty attitude had subsided as pleasure took you both over.

“Oh, get over yourself,” Momo says, looking back at you with rekindled determination in her eyes, “you’re no better than half the guys I’ve been with. I’m here for the file, not for whatever you call this.” She cooly turns her head to face front again, leaving you seething.

Your twinge of annoyance was now a bubbling boil.

You slow down before withdrawing your cock from her warmth--Momo lets out the faintest whine of disappointment, betraying her dissatisfied front.

Just as Momo turns her head again to complain, you quickly slam your cock deep inside her. Momo yelps, and you notice her eyes bulge as you move your hips in a circular motion with your cock filled to the hilt, scraping deep inside her pussy. After several seconds of this you grab a makeshift ponytail out of her hair and yank backwards, causing her to gasp and arch her back instinctively. As much as she bothered you with her air of indifference, you had to admit that the image in front of you was the stuff of dreams.

Taking advantage of the highly erotic sight before you and the increased leverage offered by your grasp of her hair, you began to truly fuck her with quick and powerful strokes.

“Take it, Momo,” you grunted, beads of sweat beginning to form on your forehead.

Momo said nothing, emitting only breathless gasps from her open mouth. You noticed that their intensity was gradually increasing, so you increased the speed of your shaft penetrating her young, sinful body. You knew she was enjoying this, but you wouldn’t be satisfied until you broke her facade. You wanted her to lose herself to you.

You speed up even more, and the volume of your skin slapping together increases as her pussy drips wetter and wetter, mixing with your leaking precum. You are slamming your cock into her now, and Momo has to grab on to the table to steady herself. Slowly but surely her pretense was crumbling.

“You want it, don’t you Momo? You want more?”

“Fuck yeah,” Momo gasps hoarsely, struggling to speak with her hair being pulled, “Give it to me...o-oh...fuck, give it to me!”

Satisfied that she had succumbed to her pleasure, you relax your grip on her hair slightly and lean over to growl in her ear.

“I’ll give it to you. I’m gonna make sure you remember this, make sure every time you’re with another man you wish it was me.”

Momo acknowledges your promise with a deep groan, giving you great pleasure as you resumed fucking her gorgeous body.

Your eyes drift downward to her glorious ass, now shining with sweat and jiggling violently with each crash of your cock inside her. Inspired by the sight, you release her hair and put one hand on her hip and begin striking her ass with your other. Momo shrieks in surprise, but quickly looks back at you with lidded eyes while biting her lip to tell you she wanted more.

Again you oblige, and it was quickly becoming clear that lust and pleasure were staging a coup of Momo’s senses. She’s making lots of noise, but nothing intelligible. Nothing but guttural moans interspersed with high-pitched squeals. You continue spanking her ass, alternating cheeks--noticing a deep pink beginning to form on both. She’d most likely be dealing with soreness for several days after this, you think.

“You wanna cum, Momo? Cum for me, I know you want to.”

“Mmmmm...Ah, ah, AH! Unggghh,” comes Momo’s response.

“Come on Momo, fucking cum baby...cum all over this cock,” you shout, sincerely hoping there was no one working in an adjacent floor to hear.

“FUUUUCK!” Momo screams eloquently, suddenly dropping her head as her body begins convulsing. You knew what to expect having slept with her before, but you are nonetheless surprised to see how completely overtaken her body was by pleasure. Her upper body jerks spastically as her legs tremble with your cock plunged deep inside her pussy, all the while letting out a high-pitched whine that turns into a soft whimper. Just a few minutes before she was defiant and happy to throw insults at you...now she was a mewling, writhing mess incapable of speaking. The dark, primal part of you is satisfied by her tacit recognition of your talent.

After a short while, Momo begins to compose herself and lifts her upper body from the table. You take it as a sign to slowly resume taking your cock in and out of her. You decide to give her now glowing pink ass a rest and caress her back, tracing long lines with your nails.

“Mmmmm, that feels good,” Momo says, her eyes still closed, “you fuck me so good.”

You slowly begin ramping up the pace, rolling your hips with each stroke. You want to make sure your cock pleases every inch of Momo’s pussy, and make sure it craves you when she’s alone at night.

After several minutes of this tender, softer version of lovemaking, Momo comes back to her senses. She arches her back again and turns her head to gaze in your eyes as you continue to take her. She begins to move her ass back and forth on your cock in unison with your own strokes.

“Oh my god, you feel so good in my fucking pussy! Every...fucking...stroke!” Momo gasps, the final words punctuated by the force of her majestic ass crashing against your cock.

“You’re a bad girl, Momo,” you tease, “you like being taken and shown who’s boss, don’t you? You like me grabbing your hair and slapping your ass?”

“Yes!” she gasps, “Yes I love it! Mmmmm...I want you to fuck me until you cum. Fuck me until you cum!”

There was no command in the world easier to follow.

Satisfied that you had fulfilled your vain, immature desire to see her acknowledge your skill as a lover, you now focus yourself on extracting pleasure from the young woman beneath you. You settle into a pace with rough strokes, fiercely pounding her over and over. Your pleasure rises with each thrust, aided not only by the mindblowing caress of her pussy, but by the incredible sight of Momo on all fours before you moaning with each strike of your cock inside her.

“Fuck Momo...I don’t think I have much longer, I’m gonna fucking cum so hard!”

“Yes,” comes the response from Momo, “Yes, yes! Fucking cum baby, I want your cum so bad!”

A few more thrusts and you can feel the point of no return coming. For a brief moment you contemplate cumming inside Momo, to truly claim her. You quickly reconsider, wanting to give her what she truly wanted--to swallow your load.

And so, you quickly withdraw your cock from Momo’s now sopping wet pussy and she instinctively turns around and drops to her knees on the floor. Stroking your cock with great fervor, her mouth wide open begging for what was to come.

“Please give me your cum, please, please! I want it...I need it! Cum for me!”

Your head tilts backward as a long groan escapes your lips. Your cum explodes from your shaft, shooting long, thick ropes of semen into her mouth and onto her cheeks and nose. Over and over, your cum splashes on her beautiful face until you finally reach the end of your orgasm, panting and exhausted. Momo’s face is a pornographic picture of lust, her eyes rolled back in pleasure as she swallows the mass of cum you deposited in her mouth.

“I fucking love your cum,” Momo says as she wipes the remaining cum off her face with her finger and promptly brings it to her tongue before swallowing it down as well.

“I’m glad we were both able to get what we wanted,” you say, struggling to catch your breath.

“Speaking of getting what I wanted…” Momo says, nodding her head to the part of the floor where the USB drive now sits, evidently thrown from the table during the session that had just taken place.

“Right,” you say, suddenly remembering you’re here for work, “make a copy and let’s get out of here.”

“Great,” says Momo, still on the floor with a satisfied smile of content on her face, “Hey, I meant what I said about having you join our team. As much shit as I give you, we could really use someone with your talent.”

“Thanks, but I think I’m better off staying put. Don’t think the Korean government would let me live if I tried defecting.”

“Probably true,” says Momo as she begins picking up her clothes, “Never hurts to ask, though.”

***

A few minutes later, you and Momo had both gotten dressed and copied the file onto a drive for her. Momo disappeared into an adjoining hallway and you set off to traverse the stairwell again. As you prepare yourself for the descent, you also steel yourself for the repercussions of giving the intel to a foreign spy agency. With the information you saw in the file, you knew the Japanese would have to be looped in sooner or later. If it was going to happen eventually, you thought it made the most sense to entrust that intel to the agent on the other side you knew would make sure things got done correctly. As logical as it seemed to you, however, you knew it wouldn’t be taken well back at the office.

You click on your comms link, now knowing there’s nothing to fear.

“Hey Choa, I’m on my way back to the rendezvous.”

“Oh thank god! That took forever, I was about to call for a tac team!” Choa sighs with audible relief, “I take it you got everything you needed?”

“Got more than I needed, actually,” you say, nervous about Choa’s reaction to what you say next, “Listen, there’s one small thing you should know...”

“You did WHAT?!”

#momo #twice smut #momo smut #male reader #b/g #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction

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kj-1130 · 4 years ago

Text

Nothing For Me

Part 2

Main Masterlist

Part 1|Part 3

2012

You were turning 11 this year. Natasha, as you learned she went by, was always a phone call away if you ever wanted to talk--since your sperm donor was obviously no help. You had recently had to call her due to your period starting, which you weren’t expecting to happen for at least another 2 to 3 years. Needless to say, it freaked you out and regardless of your smarts, nothing could have prepared you for that.

Nat took you shopping for what she called, ‘lady items’; bras, pads, tampons, anything a girl could possibly need. She also taught you how to shave if you ever wanted to. She specified that you should never feel forced to do it because ‘people need to normalize women having body hair. It grows there for a reason.’ And you totally agreed with her on that by the way.

There were a few times when she’d let you in on minor S.H.I.E.L.D secrets even though it was quite unnecessary seeing as you could hack your way through it all no problem. That’s how you found out about the Avengers Initiative. You couldn’t agree more with what was said about Tony.

Through your hacking and research of the initiative, you ‘met’ Clint. It was through a video call. He had invaded your girl-talk with Natasha. The three of you were practically best buds now. You’d go to Nat for advice or just when you needed a sister to talk to. You’d go to Clint when you just wanted to let loose and talk about absolute nonsense.

It was another lovely night in Stark Tower for you--please note the sarcasm. You were bored out of your mind. Natasha had been on an undercover mission and Clint was busy at the base; something about the Tesseract. You thought they should’ve just left the thing alone; let fate take its course. Some bad things were going to come with them messing with something they had no knowledge about. They’re joining a game without knowing any rules and are pretty much destined to lose. But, hey. What did you know?

Pepper and Tony were probably in the common area, sucking each other's faces off. Despite how much you disliked Tony, based on your experiences, you couldn’t deny the fact that they’re pining was absolutely annoying, disgusting, and cute all at the same time. You were just glad it was over honestly.

Pepper was an okay person to you. There was nothing you found super nice or mean about her that was prominent to you. She’d greet you on the quite rare occasion the two of you would cross paths and would start the casual small talk (“how are you?” “I’m fine, what about you” “Good, thanks for asking.”). She probably thought you were a live-in intern or something like that. With how much she tries to doctor Tony’s life, you’d think she would try to fix whatever nonexistent relationship between the pair of you, but nope. That just added to your intern theory.

You were reading a book on quantum physics, when your personal AI, M.I.A(miraculous intelligence assistant)--that you did in fact create yourself--notified you that someone had overridden Stark’s systems and gotten into the elevator. Just because you didn’t leave the room doesn’t mean you weren’t nosy.

“Who is it, M?”

“Agent Phil Coulson, from S.H.I.E.L.D.,” M.I.A. spoke in her smooth voice. “Would you like to listen in on what they are saying?”

“Is that even a question?”

Jumping out of your beanbag, you went to the center of your room, where M.I.A had pulled up footage of what was happening in the common room.

“Security breach,” Tony turns to Pepper. “That’s on you.”

“Mr. Stark.”

“Phil! Come in,” Pepper greeted. Since when were she and Agent Coulson on a first-name basis. You’d have to look into that.

“Phil? Uh, his first name is Agent.”

“Come on in, we’re celebrating,” the red head invites. This was getting more interesting to you by the second!

“I can’t stay.”

“Which is why he can’t stay.”

Phil ignores Tony and starts to hand him a file.

“He doesn’t like being handed things,” you muttered.

“I don't like being handed things.” Called it.

“That’s alright, ‘cause I love being handed things, So, let’s trade,” Pepper says. She hands Coulson her glass of champagne, takes the file, hands Tony the file, in return taking his drink.

“Official consulting hours are between eight and five every other Thursday,” the billionaire said.

It was quite obvious Phil was over his jokes and that he was here for a much important matter.

“Is this about the Avengers? Which I...I know nothing about.”

Both men ignored Pepper. “The Avengers Initiative was scrapped, I thought. And I didn’t even qualify.”

That was a nice day. Finding out what they said about Tony had been nothing less than amusing in your opinion.

“I didn’t know that either,” the CEO said. She sure does have the best cover-ups, doesn’t she?

“Yeah, apparently I’m volatile, self-obsessed, don’t play well with others.”

“That I did know.”

This whole thing was odd to you. Why were they trying to put together the Avengers when the whole idea was tossed?

“M, pull up the most recent S.H.I.E.L.D files on the tesseract and the Avengers Initiative.”

The AI did as told, and you scrolled through all of them. You saw things on Thor, Clint, Natasha, Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers, and lastly your sperm donor. Looking at Thor’s file, you found something about his brother Loki. And looking at his name, you saw his connections to the tesseract and everything had clicked. Loki had the thing and was definitely going to do something evil with it.

Both adults in the house were gone. Such responsible ones they are. Tony left earlier the next day and you honestly couldn’t remember when Pepper left. Now, here you were in your safe haven, trying to figure out what in the world Loki would want with the tesseract. There’s probably no way for you to figure it out since you weren’t where all the info was, actively investigating. But what you didn’t understand is why would they leave you here when such a threat was hanging in the air.

You knew Tony didn’t necessarily care for you, but he couldn’t forget about you, right? Natasha wouldn’t forget about you. Clint wouldn’t forget you. Right?

It’s been two days. Two fucking days, and no one had come in or out of this building.

You were currently pacing in your room, while your AI--not even a fucking person--was trying to comfort you.

“Does no one answer their fucking phone anymore?”

“I’m pretty sure there is a reasonable explanation as to why no one is answering.”

Out of nowhere, you heard commotion from outside. Rushing over to the window and moving the curtains, you saw these alien things coming out of the sky. You ran out of your room and made your way to the nearest set of stairs as quickly as you could.

“Ah, the little Stark.”

His voice sent chills up your spine. It was deep and quite terrifying.

“Come over, no need to be scared.”

You followed his orders, having a feeling that if you didn’t things would end up ten times worse for you. He looked at you before basically yeeting you out of the window. It hurt; it felt like every bone in your body screamed for peace and anything in the background just became white noise.

You landed on the roof, writhing in pain and groaning. Everything hurt.

Attempting to get up was hard and painful, but you knew that you had to leave or you’d die.

Looking up, you see that doctor. He was mentioned in the files but everything was just so fuzzy, you couldn’t remember properly. Finally being able to get up after numerous attempts, you limp your way down the stairs and out to the streets in the middle of all the chaos.

You were so scared. You knew you probably wouldn’t be able to contact Nat or Clint unless you somehow hacked into their coms system. You continued to walk down the streets, hoping to find some type of shelter, but it felt like you were about to collapse at any second. Sitting down in the nearest alley, you looked around. Looking left, there was a face right in front of yours.

“Fuck! What the hell man?”

The other person wasn’t fazed. Looking them over, you saw their frizzy, somewhat curly hair pulled back in a low ponytail. Her brown skin was covered in dirt and a little blood.

“Hey, you’re (y/n) Stark, right?” She asked a little breathlessly.

“I refuse to be acknowledged as such.”

“I’m Michelle. But don't call me that or I’ll have to hurt you.”

“Are you really trying to converse with me in the middle of an alien invasion? And acting like we’re both not hurt?”

Michelle shrugs her shoulders when you both look over due to some yelling that you heard.

“MJ! Michelle where are you? Michelle Jones!”

MJ looks back over and starts to get up but she trips and falls. You decide to help her up and take her over to the people calling her name. You both struggle but eventually get over to the adults with some time.

Before you could get away from the Jones family, the mother gripped your shoulder.

“C’mon, stay with us. We’ll find somewhere to lay low.“

You were too tired and in too much pain to argue, so you let Michelle’s mother help you keep your balance while the young girl’s father did the same for her.

It was at least a good ten minutes until the four of you found a decent place to take a break. It looked like a gas station, but you really couldn’t tell due to how much damage there was. You and the Jones’ took cover behind a somewhat stable looking wall and tried to stay as quiet as possible.

It was quiet besides the distant screams of people and the yells of the aliens. You wondered if Nat and Clint were okay. You wondered if Tony was okay. You wondered if anyone was safe from this. This seemed like something no one could recover from.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” The older woman asked.

“(Y/n).”

“Where are your parents?”

“My sperm donor is fighting I guess.”

To say the adults were appalled by your bluntness was an understatement. You’ve had a potty mouth for quite a while. There was no one to really correct you on what to and not to say--not that you really needed help with that being a genius and all; well a genius with common sense because your father didn’t have any of that. Without anyone to really monitor what you did, you kind of just roamed free in a sense.

The fight had died down eventually. The aliens were still coming, but a substantial amount of them had been killed. How a group of 6 people/gods/supersoldiers/or whatever amazed you. Maybe you could work behind the scenes one day; even though you already do. Just without anyone knowing.

Before you knew it, there was a nuke flying across the sky. ‘Leave it to the government to find an excuse to hurt civilians,’ you thought. But before it could hit anything, you saw a red and gold figure carry it to the portal.

You knew who it was. He was going to sacrifice himself for the safety of these people. If he didn’t make it, you would miss him even though there wouldn’t be much to miss. When that portal closed, your heart dropped to your stomach. You would never be able to make amends with him. You would never have a single conversation with him. Yeah he was a total douche bag for forgetting all about you, but you had at least expected to be able to see and maybe talk to him. Sort things out.

Without thinking, you ran as fast as you could towards where the newly assembled Avengers were; well at least where you last saw them. You ignored the calls of the Jones family, telling you to come back. Their protests telling you not to go so you can stay safe. You ignored the pain. The aching of your ribs. The dull throbbing in your head and on your lips. There was no doubt that your steps were uneven; limping down the street at your speed probably made you look like a crackhead.

You kept running; not stopping. Not when your breaths got shorter and turned into wheezes. Not when you heard rattling in your chest. Not when you felt like you were going to collapse. Not when your joints popped and begged for rest. You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. Not until you found someone; anyone you knew.

You stopped after what felt like hours. It most likely was considering the sun was going down. You heard a little commotion inside a surprisingly intact building which turned out to be a Shawarma. Tony always talked about this place for some reason.

When you looked inside, the Avengers were there. At least, you guessed they were still called that. But that didn’t matter. They were relaxing after the battle. They looked quite relaxed considering they had just fought aliens.

But that was what kind of hurt. They weren’t worried about you. At all. Of course only 3--well not really 3. Only two really knew you and knew you were in that tower when the attack happened. Sure you weren’t expecting Clint or Nat to be running around the streets of this huge city, but a little effort or at least the thought of it would’ve been nice. You could’ve been dead and they sure as hell didn’t seem super worried about it. Maybe you were overthinking it. Or maybe you were just as forgettable and insignificant as you thought.

You limped away from the establishment, trying to find somewhere to stay seeing as your home--if you could even call it that--was most likely destroyed. And you were in your feelings and nothing was a better cure than isolating yourself even more. You also wanted to see if you could get M.I.A running on a computer or something. Maybe update yourself on what was going on over the world at the moment. Or look up your frizzy-haired friend you met while you were running for your life.

You managed to find a computer near a dumpster. You leaned back against the wall and slid down slowly, not wanting to aggravate your injuries too much. You were able to get M.I.A running on the laptop and then looked up any news. The headlines were crazy. All you saw was the fight that just happened and the death count rising and rising…

You didn’t want to be focused on anything dealing with your father, S.H.I.E.L.D., or any current events, so you decided to give M.I.A. the task of figuring out who Michelle and her family was. It sounded very creepy, but you were her age. What harm could you do with her info. Well you could cause harm to her and her family with any info you found but that was besides the point. The most you were going to do was send them a message or something like that.

You ended up sleeping in that alley. Deciding that you should head back to your place of residence, you got up and started walking back much to the process of your bones and joints. The tower seemed like it was so far away. Especially with your injuries and supposedly no one around to tend to them. After what felt like hours, you made it to the entrance of the establishment and, surprise surprise, it’s already being rebuilt. You honestly didn’t know what time it was. You just wanted to get in your bed and sleep forever.

It had been about a month since the Battle of New York. Your injuries weren’t treated until about a week after the fact. Not because someone noticed you were hurt, but because it was getting hard to breathe and that didn’t seem like a fun way to go to you.

You’d been healing nicely so far, but your emotions and mental health were on the opposite side of the spectrum. Every time you close your eyes, you had this dream, vision, whatever it was, that when Loki threw you out the window, there was no balcony or landing area to stop on. You just kept falling, and falling until you hit the ground. Then you woke up.

You had been isolating yourself as well. There had been plenty of missed calls from the pair, but you just couldn’t find the energy to move and pick up the phone. They were probably just doing it out of obligation anyway.

Seeing everyone, especially Nat and Clint, just made you rethink anything you’ve ever done. Were you too clingy when it came to Natasha? Did she really like you or did she just feel bad? You were probably just overreacting, but you can’t help but think these thoughts.

Everything was just spiraling out of control for you. And you couldn’t get help; well you at least felt like you couldn’t. If you told Tony--not that you would, but hypothetically-- he’d probably wave you off and laugh. If you tried to get a therapist, someone would probably leak that shit to the press; confidentiality be damned.

You felt like you were drowning and you didn’t know how much longer it would be until you fully sank.

#nothing for me miniseries #avengers x black!reader #avengers x teen!reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x stark!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #clint barton #clint barton x teen!reader #teen!reader #avengers x reader #michelle jones x fem!reader

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squiggledrop · 5 years ago

Text

Lies - Spencer Reid x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: Reader and Spencer are dating, but when Reader sees him with someone else, she becomes extremely self- conscious and ignores him. Spencer tries to figure out what he did wrong.

Word Count: 2.7k

Pairings: Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, being self-conscious

Notes: literally just me writing down all my insecurities so

Salty tears hit the cold tiles of the hotel bathroom floor. With your back against the tub and your head in your hands, you let yourself succumb to the voices in your head. You thought you had been doing better, sure some days were worse than others, but you felt like you were making progress. But now, after having your heart obliterated by the man you love so deeply, all of your insecurities darted throughout your brain, pounding at the sides of your head.

You felt like such an idiot. Of course he would find someone else. How could you have let yourself believe he really loved you when there were so many women out there who were better looking and more fun to be around. Why would anyone want to be with someone who was as self-conscious and shy as you? Spencer deserved someone who wouldn’t shy away from taking pictures with him because you hated the way you looked or cancel plans dinner plans because the thought of anyone but him seeing you made you nauseous. That’s why it didn’t surprise you when you saw the way he flirted with that police officer today.

You were reading through some case files with Spencer when he noticed your coffee cup was empty. He had gotten up to get you a refill, which you smiled and thanked him for. You watched as his tall, lean body walked over to the coffee machine. He brushed his dark curls out of his face as he waited for the mug to fill. You knew you should be working to find the unsub, but you couldn’t pull your eyes away from the man in the purple cardigan. You softly chuckled to yourself as you scanned down to his dirty converse, where his mismatched socks peeked through the bottom of his mahogany pants. You bit back a smile as you took in the sight of your adorable boyfriend. You were so lucky to have him. He knew about your mental health struggles and always supported you, which you were thankful for. But, that still didn’t relieve any of the guilt you had at making him put up with you. That’s why, when you saw him laughing the way he always laughs with you, due to something that extremely beautiful cop just said to him as she placed her hand on his arm, your world shattered.

You know Spencer did nothing wrong and that he was just being his quirky, lovable self, but, seeing how she made him smile caused you to think how much better off he would be with someone like her. She probably didn’t have panic attacks at night that made his tired eyes sulk into his head even more. She would probably love to wear a beautiful dress out to dinner so he could show her off. She could probably make him so much happier than you ever could. Your mind swarmed with voices telling you how you weren’t enough and that Spencer probably resented you. You tried to focus on the papers in front of you and reassure yourself that you were being irrational and that it was all your head, but it was no use. Your anxiety consumed you, drowning you in all of your insecurities. You tried to gasp for air, but all you could do was sit idly by as you watched the man of your dreams flirt with a beautiful woman through the tears that swelled in your eyes.

When Spencer returned with your coffee he set it down and placed a kiss to the top of your head. You wanted nothing more than to hug him and feel his reassuring body consume you, but you didn’t want him to see your tears, so you remained silent with your head down.

“Hey, is everything okay?” he asked, concern lacing his voice. You bit your lip and couldn’t think of anything to say. “(Y/n), talk to me. What’s up?” He reached out to touch your arm in hopes of getting you to answer him, but you flinched at the contact. “I’m-I’m sorry”, he stammered, terrified he had done something wrong.

“I-I have to go help JJ”, you said softly, as you bolted out of the room, making sure he couldn’t see your tear-stained cheeks.

“(Y/n)...”, he called after you, standing up. You couldn’t bring yourself to put all of your problems on him, just to make him feel bad for doing nothing wrong, so you kept your head down as you walked out of the precinct. Spencer followed you, calling out your name, but you got into the black SUV and sped away before he could even make it to the door.

You avoided Spencer for the rest of the day. You hated yourself for ever letting your mind convince you Spencer would cheat on you, and you hated yourself even more for how guilty you were making him feel by not talking to him about how guilty you felt for thinking it. Spencer tried to talk to you, but you kept brushing him off, his devastated face making you hate yourself even more. You didn’t deserve him. He deserved someone who made him feel as amazing as you knew he was. He didn’t deserve to be treated like this, but you didn’t know what to do. You would hurt him if you talked to him about it, but you were hurting him by saying nothing too.

“Hey, is (y/n) okay?” Derek asked Spencer as they were on their way to the most recent dumpsite.

“I don’t know. She was fine one second and then all of a sudden completely shut me out. She won’t even look at me… I don’t know what I did. I just, I need to make sure she’s okay.” Derek gave him a sympathetic smile as he placed a reassuring hand on Spencer’s shoulder.

“I’m sure she’ll come around. I know she struggles with some stuff, but, you are the only person I’ve seen make her smile as big as she does when she’s with you”, Spencer gave a thankful nod in return. “And in any case, I always find flowers and some chocolate are always a good idea when a woman is giving you the silent treatment”, Spencer rolled his eyes as Derek chuckled.

When you all regrouped at the station later that night, Hotch had told everyone to head back to the hotel so you could start fresh the next morning. As everyone was leaving, Spencer chased after you, reaching for your hand, but you pulled it away. In defeat, he let you go and the two of you rode in separate cars back to the hotel for the first time since you joined the team three years ago. On the way there, Spencer replayed every moment from the day in his head over and over, trying to figure out what happened to make you so upset. He hated seeing you hurt like this, and all he wanted to do was take away your pain.

Once at the hotel, everyone went their separate ways to get some much-needed rest. You walked about ten paces ahead of Spencer, not daring to let him see you. When you made it to the room, you tried to use the key card, but the door wouldn’t open. Ugh! I can’t even work a stupid door! you mentally yelled at yourself. Seeing your struggle caused Spencer’s face to fall and his heart to clench.

“Here, you just have to-”, he said softly as he took the card and opened the door. Without acknowledging him, you pushed through into the room. Spencer slowly closed the door, before turning around to face you. You had your back to him, sitting on the edge of the far bed, opening your bag to get ready for bed. “(Y/n), please talk to me”, he begged. After not receiving any form of a response, you heard him walk towards you and, without thinking, you snapped.

“Just leave me alone!”, you said, definitely loud enough for the entire floor to hear.

“(Y/n)...”, he chocked out, tears running down his face.

“Just go! I don’t want to talk to you.” Your enraged voice hid the sadness you felt, and your heart sunk even lower as you heard Spencer huff as he closed the door behind him. You finally let the tears fall that you had been holding back the entire car ride. You walked into the bathroom, not wanting him to see you like this in case he came back. That’s when you realized it: if he came back. Your stupid self had pushed Spence away for no reason and now he was gone. You cursed yourself for hurting the man who had done nothing but love you and care for you. At least now you knew the voices were right. You didn’t deserve Spencer. At least now he could find someone whose beauty complemented his. Someone who was confident, smart, and made him feel loved. You sank down on to the cold tiles and wished that you could have been enough for him because he deserved the world.

You didn’t notice when the hotel door opened, because all you could hear were your loud sobs and the voices telling you how much happier Spencer must be now that you weren’t there to bother him. You only noticed he was standing in front of you when you heard his gasp at the sight of you on the floor. You looked up to see him standing there, tears streaming down his face matching yours, with a box of your favorite chocolates and the most beautiful bouquet of flowers you had ever seen in his hands. A pit formed in your stomach and you began to cry even harder. You were so undeserving of this man. After you had ignored him for the whole day and yelled at him to leave, he decided to go out and buy you gifts, and all you could do was cry. He came and sat next to you, causing you to shift away from him, not wanting to meet his gaze.

“Look, I know you don’t want to talk to me, and that’s okay. But, please, just listen to me”, after not receiving any form of response from you, he continued, “(Y/n), I have been replaying everything that happened today, trying to figure out what I did. I’m so sorry for whatever it was that hurt you this bad. I want you to know I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you. I love you so much. You mean the world to me.” He paused for a moment to quickly wipe a tear off his cheek. “I got you these because Derek said it always worked for him. I just- I want you to tell me what’s wrong so I can apologize and try to fix it.” You closed your eyes, his words making you feel even worse about yourself. After all the pain you put him through today, he was the one apologizing to you. You didn’t understand how someone so perfect could say they love someone who was anything but.

“Spencer…”, he looked up at you with his big, sad eyes, “I’m so sorry”, you choked out. “I don’t deserve you. I’m so sorry”, you cried.

“Hey, no no no. Don’t say that”, he said as he brought you into his arms, grateful that you finally let him touch you. “I love you so much, and you deserve everything and more, okay?”

“No, I don’t! I’m a terrible girlfriend, and I hurt you and made you cry. I ignored you and you repaid me by bringing me gifts.” You pulled away from him and looked him in the eyes. “Why are you even with me when you deserve so much better?”

“How could you even say that”, he looked genuinely hurt.

“Because! I’m stupid and annoying and I’m no fun to be around, and you are so great and you should be with someone who is pretty and likes to go out and have fun and doesn’t get anxious, or-”, at that, Spencer knew what was really going on.

“(Y/n), why didn’t you tell me you were feeling like this. You know I would have been there for you. I know it’s hard, but you can’t listen to the voices telling you lies okay? They are wrong, they are so so wrong.” He cupped your face and ran his thumb across your cheek, “I know you don’t always see it, but you are the most beautiful person I have ever met, inside and out. You are the only person who will listen to my rambles and you are my favorite person to spend time with. You are my entire world, (y/n). You are more than enough.”

“But that’s not true!” “Yes. It is.”

“What about that police officer today. The really beautiful tall one? She made you laugh and your eyes lit up the same way they do when you are with me.”

“(Y/n)-” Spencer was about to interject but you continued over him.

“And I know you would never cheat on me or do anything to purposefully hurt me. And you did absolutely nothing wrong and I’m so sorry for hurting you when you did nothing to deserve it. It’s just, whenever I see you with another girl, I think about is how easily she could take you away for me. All I’m saying is that I would understand if you did leave me for someone prettier and more fun, like her, because you deserve someone who makes you happy and not someone like me who makes your life harder.” You were both silent for a moment before Spencer took your hands in his.

“Please look at me”, you did as he asked and painfully met his gaze, “I don’t want anyone but you. You are a ray of sunshine in my life. You make me the happiest I have ever been, even when I know you struggle to see yourself how I see you. You are never a burden to me, okay? I want you to always tell me what’s going on in your head because your problems are my problems, and nothing would make me happier than helping you and supporting you through them. I don’t care that sometimes we change our plans and just stay in because my favorite place in the world is snuggling with you on the couch. I don’t care that sometimes you wear my sweatpants and t-shirts because you don’t like how your clothes look on you because I think you look adorable and I feel so lucky to have a girlfriend as beautiful as you. I don’t care that we don’t always take a picture every time we go out on a date because I have an eidetic memory and don’t need a physical picture to get to see all of our memories together whenever I want. And I don’t care that sometimes you get anxious and your mind convinces you that you aren’t good enough because I know how amazing you are and I’ll always be there to help you through it and remind you of much I love you.” By now you were sobbing again, but this time they were happy tears. Spencer pulled you into his chest, as you breathed in his warm scent that instantly comforted you.

“I love you”, you mumbled into his shirt.

“I love you. So much”, he said, placing a kiss to your cheek.

“And Spence?” You asked, lifting your head up, placing your hands in his hair.

“Yeah?”, he said, looking up at you with lust-filled eyes as he rested his hands on your hips.

“Thank you for loving me”, you smiled, your heart so full you thought it would burst.

“Thank you for letting me love you”, he brought you in for a gentle, yet passionate kiss and you melted into him. Although you knew you would always have rough days like today, as long as you had Spencer there to hod your hand, you knew you would be okay.

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peachoony · 4 years ago

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hold your heart

Genre: criminal/mafia au

Warning: mention of guns and alcohol, cheating, smut, basically violent subjects

Pairing: jooheon x fem!reader

Word count: 4.8K

Summary: just when you were ready to let go of the past your ex-lover re-enters your life bringing a dark secret with him.

A/N: uh hi im here with an mafia au because they are my biggest weakness ugh, also idk if this will have another part, but if you guys want one let me know. it may be a little confusing at the start but you will understand with time,, enjoy!

“Today is the charity gala, you remember right?” Hyunsoo asked you, while he put on his tie. You looked up from your book and watched your fiancé get ready.

If someone would have told you a year ago how you would be engaged to someone who you don’t even love you would’ve laughed and praised their crazy fantasie, but the only thing you are laughing at now is you. Hyunsoo is the son of your fathers best friend and well what father doesn’t want a good boy as their son-in-law? Your father saw the opportunity and took it and since there wasn’t anything to lose for you either what was stopping you? You closed your book before standing up.

“Yes. I remember,” you answered.

As the CEO of his company your father decided to plan a charity gala, but this was only what everyone else thought. The real reason behind all this was a trap for the most wanted thief in Korea right now. Hyunsoo was a criminal detective and this gala was just his mission.

What attracts a thief? Money.

Where do you find so much at one spot? The bank and a charity gala.

Bingo.

“I will see you at the gala, since we still have a meeting regarding today.” You nodded as he grabbed his badge, before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. When the door closed you let out the breath you were holding in.

Hyunsoo was a great person. He was mature, understanding and very caring for someone who didn’t love you, not only that but always made sure you had a good time with him. He was basically everything a girl wanted in a man.

But Hyunsoo wasn’t him.

“Hey,” someone said and you looked up from your notes just to roll your eyes. “What do you want?” You asked and he chuckled.

“Why can’t you just say hey back like everyone else?” He asked you and you huffed while raising your eyebrow.

“Do you annoy other people like you do with me?” You asked locking back down to your notes. “You’re the only one I annoy,” he smiled with heart eyes and you sighed before packing up your books as he gave you a confused look.

“Where are you going?” He asked you. “Away from you.” You answered before walking out of the library followed by him.

“Stop playing hard to get y/n,” he laughed, grabbing your arm gently. “Eventually you will fall for me,” he continued making you scoff.

“Yeah whatever fills your boat, now let go of my arm or you won’t be able to hold anything for the rest of your life,” you said and he did with a chuckle.

“Don’t worry, the only thing I’m planning on holding is your heart,” Jooheon winked.

“Dr. Y/n, should I send Mr. Park in?” The officer asked and you nodded. “Yes, thank you, officer.” You gave a short smile. You almost scoffed at the thought of you being a criminal psychiatrist and your soon to be husband a criminal detective, a match made in heaven.

You cringed at the sound of the handcuffs, when the man in front you sat down. The officer left and you looked over giving your patient your attention.

“Good Morning Mr. Park,” you said but he stayed silent just like the last three times, however you were used to it. Criminals are psychopaths and they don’t like the feeling of vulnerability, especially someone from the ‘other side’. They don’t like talking nor showing any kind of emotions other than anger.

You took off your glasses placing them on the table in front you before looking up again.

“I know it’s hard to talk about this and I wouldn’t want to answer these questions either, but I need you to cooperate.” He looked down to his handcuffs and you continued.

“We are not against you, we are just trying to help you.” It was silent before he took a deep breath.

“I don’t wanna be in jail,” he said and for some reason a dusted memory flashed through you.

“Thank you y/n,” Mr. Jung said as you gave him the file your father asked you to deliver to the police station. “No worries Uncle,” you smiled but it faded as soon as your eyes landed on Jooheon.

Wait Jooheon? What is he doing here?

He called your name and waved while his other hand held the cell bars in front of him. “What the hell are you doing here?” You asked him but he just smiled.

“I always wanted to know how it is in jail,” he said and you rolled your eyes.

“Do you know each other?” Mr. Jung asked and you immediately replied with no, while Jooheon replied with yes at the same time. You sighed rolling your eyes. Of course.

“He is a student at my University,” you said after he gave you a confused expression. “Yeah we are very close friends,” Jooheon added and you clenched your jaw.

“He punched a guy,” Mr.Jung replied nodding into his direction, which left you confused. You may not be a lawyer, but you surely don’t go to jail for punching someone.

“He broke his jaw. He is in the Hospital.” he added and you turned to Jooheon who just gave you a nervous smile.

“Officer, I already told you he was cat-calling girls in front of the cafe with his friends. I would have broken more if you’d give me the chance,” Jooheon said pouting and you blinked a couple of times.

After that your view changed on him and suddenly he wasn’t that annoying.

You put your pearl earrings on, before giving yourself a last look in the mirror. The off-shoulder, deep blue satin dress complimented your skin. The door opened and Hyunsoo walked in with his phone against his ear. “Yeah we’re about to leave,” he informed the other person, before sliding his phone into the pocket.

You picked up your purse and phone as his eyes trailed over your body. “You look…” he frowned searching for the right words, “breathtakingly gorgeous.”

You smiled at his words. “You too, Hyunsoo.”

He stared at you and when you said his name to get his attention he blinked a couple of times. “I’m sorry I just...never mind let’s go.”

The drive was silent, but you felt him look over to you a couple of times and every time you turned your head he would just clear his throat and look away.

“You know it’s rude to stare?” You said jokingly and he chuckled.

“You know it’s rude to look this good and not even let your fiancé admire,” he answered, making you shake your head at his attempt to flirt.

You took a sip of the champagne, looking around the hall as your parents were talking to Hyunsoo’s parents.

“Hyunsoo told me about your promotion,” his mother spoke up and you gave her a smile nodding.

“Oh yes, just recently.” You nodded looking down, hoping she would stop talking to you and luckily she did. After your fourth glass of champagne you felt your bladder calling.

“I’ll go to the bathroom,” you informed your mother before grabbing your purse. The elevators were so pretty and the roof had a mirror making you stare in awe. When the doors opened you noticed the floor being oddly quiet, but you brushed the thought side walking to the bathrooms with your heels giving off a satisfying noise. After you were done you gave yourself a last look in the mirror before walking to the elevator as your phone vibrated. It was Hyunsoo, but you didn’t have the chance to speak up as you heard his panicked voice.

“Y/n, listen to me carefully. Leave as fast as you can and take the stairs.” You frowned at his words and an uneasy feeling started spreading inside of you.

“What’s the matter?” You asked looking around, if he could see you.

“He is on the same floor as you so leave now!”

“Who is on the same floor, Hyunsoo? No one is here.” You answered pressing the elevator button. You waited for a moment but the floor was dead silent and you turned back around.

“Hyunsoo no one-“

Your breath hitched and you could swear your heart stopped right there in then the moment your eyes met his. Hyunsoo’s voice already faded away as you stared at Jooheon for a moment before your fiancés voice pulled you out of your state of shock.

“Y/n do as I tell you and stop arguing!” He said sternly and you gulped, muttering an okay. Your eyes fell on the gun in his hand and you stood there unable to to even speak up.

He said your name casually, giving you a small smile and the way it rolled off your tongue made your heart flutter and skin tingle.

Two years. It's been two years since you saw Jooheon and you didn’t know what to say. He looked so different, so...manly. You whispered his name, like you were making sure he wasn’t an illusion.

After Jooheon disappeared two years ago without any letter, call or even message, you were devastated. You couldn’t function for months and it did take you up to a year to accept all that, but seeing him now in front of you made your brain malfunction and you weren’t sure if you wanted to kiss or kill him.

You heard footsteps and Jooheons eyes widened.

“Hands up! Now!” You heard your fiancé’s voice, which pulled you back into reality. A bunch of police officers with guns stood there pointing at you and Jooheon while all this felt so unreal and for a moment all the voices faded and you looked at Jooheon not wanting to believe that he was standing right in front of you.

Not as your sweet Jooheon, but as a criminal.

You felt someone pull your arms and suddenly your back was pressed against Jooheons chest as you felt something cold and hard pressed against your temple.

Hyunsoo's eyes widened and he instantly dropped the gun, knowing exactly what he wanted.

“Weapons down. Now!” He said and slowly raised his arms. “Leave her alone, she has nothing to do with all this,” he added.

You turn your head to Jooheon, shocked at what he was doing. That was not your Jooheon. That was not the Jooheon you knew.

“Press the button,” he said nodding to the elevator and you raised your shaking hand pushing the button, before he slowly walked back into the elevator with you still pressed against his chest. “Underground parking,” he whispered again and you did as he told you, hands still shaking. You knew Jooheon wouldn’t hurt you, but right now you really were doubting that.

“Don’t you dare follow me and if I see my face in the news, your little fiancé is dead.” You gulped at his harsh words and tone and the moment the elevator doors closed he removed the gun taking a step back. You blinked a couple of times before turning around, letting out a breath you didn’t notice you were holding in.

“What the fuck Jooheon! How dare you point a gun at me?” You yelled at him with a shaking voice, while he removed his bowtie followed by opening a couple of buttons of his shirt.

“I wouldn’t hurt you y/n,” he said and you took a step closer scoffing.

“Clearly you would.” He frowned at your words before pointing the gun against his temple and when he pulled the trigger you gasped protecting your ears with your arms, but nothing happened. A click sound was heard and you slowly opened your eyes standing up straight as you looked at the gun then him.

“You didn’t actually think I would point a loaded gun at you,” he chuckled, stuffing the gun at the back of his suit. The door opened and you walked out of the elevator.

“I’m going back,” you scoffed but he grabbed your wrist pulling you back.

“Said who?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Me, now let go of my hand-“

“or I won’t be able to hold anything for the rest of my life. Right?”

You felt his hold soften and he pulled you closer. “But don’t worry baby, the only thing I’m planning on holding is your heart,” he said quietly and you didn’t even notice the tear before Jooheon wiped it away. You didn’t realise how much your heart needed him these two years, until now that you had him this close.

“Where are we going?” You asked after a while you were on the highway.

“Somewhere,” he said, still looking at the road in front of him and you rolled your eyes. “Wow, very helpful,” you replied, making him chuckle. He promised you to explain everything once he got away from there, and for some reason you wanted to get away with him. You were still mad, but your feelings didn’t change for this man and probably never will.

“How is he?” He asked after a while and you looked away. “Is he treating you better?” He added and you scoffed now.

“You left me, Jooheon. Don’t you dare ask that. Do you even know what I went through when you decided to disappear and rob innocent people? You put me through hell.” Your voice cracked and he sighed.

“You wanted a break,” he said and you laughed. “I wanted a break not whatever the fuck you did after that.”

“Okay listen let me explain,” he said and you leaned back into our seat. “Go ahead.”

He took a deep breath, before activating the auto-pilot.

“Remember I told you that my father died?” He asked and you hummed. “Well I lied. He is alive. The reason why I did that was because he was a bad person, at least that’s what I have been told.” You gave him a confused look and sighed. “My father is Lee Mingyu,” he said after a while and your jaw dropped.

“You mean…” you trailed off and he hummed.

“The mafia leader Lee Mingyu.” He ended your sentence and your breath hitched.

“A week before I disappeared, my father contacted me asking me if I’m dating someone and I was confused on why he was asking that,” he continued his story.

“He told me that a rival gang targeted you, in hope to take revenge on me. So in order to protect you and your family I did what I had to do. I was lucky when you asked for a break, so I took that as a sign from the universe.” He explained and you blinked a couple of times processing everything he just told you.

“You’re safe now y/n,” he assured you after he saw your expression.

“I’m safe with a thief? With the son of a national criminal?” You asked him and the affliction was clear in his eyes as you felt his heart throb. “Don’t say that,” he whispered and you scoffed softly.

“I have never spent one coin on myself and neither have I robbed an innocent person. The people that I rob are the ones that use their money for the wrong purpose,” he said sternly.

“The mafia is not as bad as the society tells you to think,” he continued and you raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? How will you sugar coat killing innocent people?”

“See! This is exactly what I’m talking about.” He groaned leaning back into his seat.

“Do you know how many innocent people have died from the hands of police officers? But of course no one talks about that, since they are the good guys, right?”

You looked down thinking of an answer, clearly taken aback at how accurate he was.

“Have you asked your Mr. Perfect on how many people he has killed?” He looked over to you and you stayed silent. You indeed were curious now.

“The government is manipulative y/n. They are not as good as they show themselves to be, because I can assure you that there is so much dirty stuff going on. They are so fixated to wipe us out, so the truth doesn’t get exposed.”

You gulped still unsure on how to form your own opinion on this.

A vibration pulled you out of your thoughts and you pulled your phone out just to see Hyunsoo calling you.

“What the fuck y/n!” Jooheon said, before grabbing your phone and throwing it out of the window making you gasp as he closed the window again.

“Don’t you know they can track us with your phone?!” He explained.

“What if they track us with that car?” You scoffed and he sighed.

“They can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because this is your fathers car,” he replied and you sat up. “WHAT?” You yelled out and he gave you an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry y/n, but that was necessary,” he added and you sighed.

You saw him exiting the highway and you were honestly glad after a two hour drive in that dress.

“Will you tell me now where we are going?” You tried again and he gave you a genuine smile. “Patience, baby.”

“Don’t call me that, I’m still mad at you.” You rolled your eyes and shook his head amused by your behavior.

Jooheon pulled up the car in front of a bigger mansion, leaving you confused. “Where are we?” You asked him when he opened the door for you, offering you his hand which you accepted.

“My home.” He smiled and your eyes widened. “Wait...what?” You gasped and he laughed at your reaction.

“Just trust me. I want you to meet someone,” he explained while walking in with you and you were still confused but did as he said, following him with your hand still in his.

“Make sure nothing goes wrong during the shipment.“ You heard a voice which instantly stopped talking as soon as you walked into the living room. You turned your head to a man your fathers age. Lee Mingyu you assumed.

“You’re back.” He stated and Jooheon nodded.

His eyes drifted to you and he gave you a small smile, which you almost didn’t notice. “Jooheon told me a lot about you, y/n.” He looked down to your hands and you wanted to pull it away, but Jooheon just grasped it tighter not giving the chance to.

“Only positive, of course,” he added chuckling and you gave him a nervous laugh.

“Jooheon, what are you doing standing here? Let her rest. Is this how we treat our hostage?” He said and your eyes widened at his words.

Hostage?

“Dad stop, she’s already scared.” Jooheon shook his head making his dad laugh. “I apologise. Treat this like your own home y/n.”

You looked around the room silently, absorbing the dresser as something catches your eye. Jooheon’s Parfum. You picked it up holding it close to your nose inhaling his smell. You always used to tell him how much you loved how he smelled. Like home. The door opened and you hastily placed the bottle back, before turning back.

“Why am I here?” You asked him as he took off his jacket placing it on the bed.

“Jooheon I have a job, a life. You can’t just kidnap me to your house in god knows where and expect me to just happily leave my whole life behind,” you said, making him stop in his tracks before a deep sigh left his chest.

“You’re right and I know,” he said, turning around to face you, “but I can’t spend another day without you, y/n.”

He gently took your hands in his, before placing kisses on both of your knuckles and you sighed.

“You weren’t the only one who went through hell. I lived everyday with the guilt of not only putting your life in danger but also leaving you without any explanation.”

He slipped his fingers into yours. “Do you know how much I just wanted to leave all this behind? But I couldn’t, not while knowing that going back to you can lead to me losing you,” he continued leaning closer to your face, with his brown eyes staring longingly into yours and there goes your plan to not get weak.

“I did it all for you.”

You lowered your gaze to his chest not wanting to look into his eyes, before your knees would lose their last strength.

“Look at me,” he said after a while and you bit down on your lower lip, looking back up. Your heart was beating heavily against your chest, while his eyes only made your heart flutter

“You’re so beautiful baby,” he said quietly like these words were only meant for you to hear. His breath fanned over your lips and when you couldn’t take it anymore you closed the gap between you two, pressing your lips against his pillow like lips. He instantly tilted his head, deepening the kiss while one of his hands gently rested on the back of your head guiding you. You sighed into the kiss like you finally could breath after those two years, as if you were drowning and his hand finally grasped yours pulling you to the surface. Finally he saved you from suffocating.

When he felt the tears on your cheeks he pulled back with a worried expression, gently wiping them away.

“I missed you so much, Jooheon. I won’t survive it again without you.” You sobbed into his chest, grasping his shirt tightly. “Please don’t leave me ever again.”

“Hey it’s okay baby, I’m here.” He placed a kiss on your forehead, before pulling you closer. “I’m here now, and I’m not leaving again,” he whispered, tugging a strand of hair behind your ear.

He pulled your lips into another kiss, putting all his feelings and emotions into it.

“I missed you too,” he mumbled in between kisses. “Let me show you how much I missed you.”

It felt like your body was on fire, as the fluttering only intensified. You felt your knees get weaker and you were sure that he felt your heart against his chest. Maybe time stopped, because the only thing you could focus on was his lips devouring yours in such a passionate way, clouding all your senses. It was still hard to believe that all this was happening and if it wouldn’t have been for the way his hands tightly pulled your body against his, you’d think this was a dream.

“The stars are pretty, right?” You said awkwardly trying to ignore the way he was looking at you.

“Can I kiss you?” He suddenly asked and you turned your head to your left.

“W-what?” You stuttered, making sure you heard him right.

“Can I Kiss you, y/n?” He repeated with a smile and you gulped. “I…” you started but nodded after taking a deep breath. He leaned forward and his lips gazed over yours, before he softly pressed them against yours. It was a short kiss, but it felt like something exploded inside of you. As if time had stopped right there, as you sat at the rooftop of your building, after Jooheon wanted to be the first one to wish you a happy birthday. As if no one else existed, like there was no risk of your parents watching his hands softly caress your waist and finger run over the exposed skin between your jeans and shirt.

A deep blush creeped over your cheeks and you looked away. “Are you blushing, baby?” He asked and you almost jumped off the roof at the pet name. “You wish,” you scoffed, turning your head away just for him to make you look back to him.

“It was your first kiss, wasn’t it?” He chuckled and you hummed, cringing at how he was pushing past your ego.

You pulled his shirt down his shoulders after your fingers nervously worked on undoing his buttons. Your hands trailed over the tattoos on his chest, clearly taken aback at how much he changed. This Jooheon was just new to you.

“You like them, baby?” He asked and you nodded slowly, pulling his swollen lips into another kiss while his hands found the zipper of your dress and in seconds it slipped down your body.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered after seeing your lace lingerie, now hovering over you and you saw his biceps flex as he held up his weigh next to your head.

He placed open mouthed kisses down from your jaw to your neck, making you whimper. Hyunsoo was your fiancé, but nothing more happened than kisses on the cheek so the effect of Jooheon’s every touch was more intense than you thought.

Your fingers slipped into his hair when his tongue gazed over your collarbones while his hand rubbed up and down your thigh. Piece by piece he was removing your remaining lingerie, carefully unwrapping you like an expensive gift and he sure took his time leaving you begging for more.

“Jooheon please do something,” you begged, while his finger trailed up and down your center.

“What does my baby want me to do, huh?”

“I want you inside me, please.” A whimper escaped your lips.

He kissed your jaw and your hands grabbed his shoulder, realizing your ring was missing.

“My ring,” you moaned out just when he finally pushed his finger into you.

“You won’t be needing that when you're with me,” he said leaning down, pulling you into a kiss and not even a second later your ring was forgotten as his touch clouded your senses.

You whined into the kiss when the feeling of his finger disappeared, but got replaced with his tip sliding up and down your folds. Your teeth sunk deep into your lower lip as he slowly pushed into you.

“I missed you so much,” he whispered, placing soft kisses on your shoulders. “Fuck I missed the way you grasped me so tightly, baby.” You moaned wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you, while his hips thrusted into you.

“Does he touch you like that?” His hand lovingly grabbed your breast taking a nipple in his mouth, making you close your eyes at the blissful feeling of his wet tongue.

“Tell me, baby. Does he fuck you like that?” He whispered against your lips thrusting into you harder, picking up his space as he started hitting your g-spot.

You shook your head, your heavy breathing filling the room. “No, he didn’t.”

“That’s right baby. You are mine and only I can touch you like that,” he said and you saw his jaw clench. Jooheon couldn’t help but get the image of another man touching you off his mind. His hand grabbed yours, pinning it next to your head, now chasing both orgasms.

“Be my good girl and cum for me.” He groaned when you clenched around him. You felt the knot building in your lower abdomen and he leaned down kissing you with his tongue sliding over your lower lip. You arched your back, moaning into the kiss when the euphoric feeling washed over you leaving your legs shaking against his waist.

The room was silent only filled with your heavy breathing. You didn’t open your eyes, still trying to calm down from your high and you felt him pulling you into his arms.

Suddenly a thought crossed your head. Did he really think you slept with Hyunsoo?

“I didn’t sleep with Hyunsoo,” you said quietly and he chuckled. “I believe you y/n,” he answered and you sighed.

“Did you...sleep with anyone?” You hesitated and he placed a kiss against your temple. “I didn’t exactly sleep with someone,” he said after a while, making you look up to him. “I did try to get my mind off you, after a year, when I stopped hoping to be with you again.”

You gave him a confused look. “I didn’t had sex with another woman y/n, but I did have them suck me off,” he explained and you nodded silently, “oh.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he chuckled at your expression. “I don’t even know their names.”

You honestly couldn’t get mad, since you did try to get over him too and maybe not the same way as him, but it definitely involved making out with other men. You pushed all your thoughts away pulling yourself closer to him. You could worry about going back later, for now you wanted him to cloud all your senses.

#monsta x #monsta x mafia #jooheon smut #jooheon mafia #monsta x fluff #monsta x imagines #monsta x scenarios #monsta x smut #monsta x x reader #lee jooheon #jooheon angst #jooheon imagines #jooheon scenarios #jooheon fluff #joohoney #monsta x angst

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reidgraygubler · 4 years ago

Text

sunflowers, daisies, lilacs, dahlias (spencer reid/reader)

Title: sunflowers, daisies, lilacs, dahlias

Requested: yes, was a request someone sent to @imagining-in-the-margins, but I took it of her hands :) (So i get this is sorta hard to do but i was wondering if you could write a spencer x nonbinary (gender-neutral pronouns) reader where reader isn’t out to the team yet but spencer finds out somehow and the reader is afraid he’ll reject them but instead he confesses his feelings and just starts info dumping about third genders in other cultures and the roots of binary america, etc. just like fluffy and accepting. once again, i get it if you don’t want to/can’t but that would be awesome)

Couple: spencer reid/non-binary!reader (they/them pronouns)

Category: fluff

Content Warning: swearing (if any), misgendering, usual criminal minds case work stuff, bi!spencer, lgbt+ history lesson, platonic cuddling (or is it?), kissing (not platonic), Doctor Who season 12 spoilers (weird, I know), afab!reader

Word Count: 4,110

Summary: reader comes out as non-binary to their best friend, Spencer, after they notice he changes the pronouns he uses to talk about them and after the team misgenders them.

A/N: pom (aka @imagining-in-the-margins) posted this in her discord and said if someone had any ideas for this, we could have it. and i loved the request so i took it off her hands. im also non-binary and only out to a few friends, so this piece is dear to my heart. also, i wrote reader as afab, since that’s also me, but also the request says that reader isn’t out to the team yet, and i had to give reader a gender. so im sorry about that. that’s where the mis-gendering comes in. spencer’s nickname for reader is bumblebee when they’re friends, but once they start dating it’s honeybee… bc reader is… enbee… thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

It was a new day at work. A new day, a new me… Kinda, not really. It’s still old me. I’m just trying to figure out the new me. I think that makes sense. It makes sense to me, so that’s all that matters, I think.

Maybe today was the day I came out to the team as Non-Binary. That’d probably help my feeling of garbage. Not even my own family knew about my little secret. So that’s been something I’ve seriously been thinking about, telling everyone that I was Non-binary and preferred they/them pronouns.

I kept my head low as I stepped off the elevator and onto the floor of the BAU. The good news is, people weren’t rushing around like I was partly expecting them to be. The bad news is, when I got to my desk, there was a stack of files, waiting to be looked over. And the unfortunate part was, I wouldn’t get to get through half of them, because something told me there was a current case we had to go on.

That something being Emily Prentiss standing outside her office, looking for everyone on the team. I looked up at her with a pout as she nodded towards the conference room. I looked back at the stack of files before grabbing my go bag and going up to the conference room.

Everyone was already there, waiting for me. Although, I was usually late, in a sensible fashion. So I quickly took my seat beside Spencer and remained quiet as Penelope and Emily told us about the case.

{***}{***}{***}

“We can go to the most recent victim’s house, interview the siblings,” Spencer spoke up as we both walked up to Emily. I looked up at him and nodded, silently agreeing that I could go with. It’s not like I had anything better to do anyways. Tara and Luke were at the newest crime scene. David and Matt were with the ME. And Emily was about to go interrogate the suspect. So, going with Spencer would give me something to do.

“She’ll have to conduct the interview,” Emily looked up from the file she was reading and right at me. I looked down, away from anyone who was possibly looking at me. Getting mis-gendered was something I was used to, by now anyways. But, for some reason, this time it really bothered me. Emily doesn’t know, it’s fine. It’s mostly my fault anyways. And, I guess it bothered Spencer too, because the expression on his face shifted from normal to… annoyed.

“Of course, they can do the interview. They’re the most like the victim,” Spencer looked at Emily before looking back at me. I looked at him and smiled softly. It was more of a nervous smile than anything else. A change, and correction, in pronoun… I hadn’t exactly told anyone that I preferred different pronouns, I had honestly gotten used to the unfortunate misgendering.

“I can do it, I’m perfectly capable of it,” I smiled at Spencer then over at Emily. So much for a change.

“Then that’s settled, she’ll do it,” Emily looked up at Spencer and smiled before allowing us to leave. I dropped my shoulders as I glanced at Spencer, who was glaring daggers at Emily. He wasn’t usually one to glare at his superiors, especially Emily.

“We should get going, don’t you think,” I whispered as I looked up at Spencer. He finally looked down at me and nodded. “And, you can do the interview, if you want. I get that I’m a lot like the victim’s sister. But, you do interviews better than me,” I laughed and shook my head.

“We can do it together. That’s the only way you can get better at interviewing,” he returned the laughter before following beside me.

“That’s true,” I smiled at him.

{***}{***}{***}

“I know we always do this, but thanks for letting me stay the night after hard cases,” I looked over at Spencer as he got in his car. I readjusted the grip on my bag as I looked away from Spencer.

“Of course, sleeping over at someone’s house after a case makes it easier to relax, especially after hard cases,” he looked over at me with a smile, “We can order Chinese food if you want,” he added as he looked back at the road.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that,” I nodded with a smile. Sometime between solving the last case, and the jet landing I gained the courage to bring up what happened before the interview. You know, the whole they/them thing… With Spencer. I still don’t know how he knew to change my pronouns.

He was talking about something, it sounded like an episode of Doctor Who. I sort of felt bad about that too, because I was hardly listening. I was one of the only few people who actually watched Doctor Who with him, and thoroughly enjoyed his commentary.

“And then the Doctor, who, have I mentioned is a woman now, is in fact the Timeless Child. Did you know that?” He glanced at me as he went on. Again, I felt bad because I wasn’t totally paying attention. “Of course you knew that, we watched the episode together,” he continued to ramble about the episode.

“Spencer,” I spoke, my voice just loud enough for him to hear.

“Mhm, what?” he glanced over at me for a quick second. I looked at him, my mouth opening and closing a few times before actually saying what I was thinking. Which was...

“How did you know?” I asked, my voice a bit of a whisper. I was a little bit scared. How did he know? Sure, Spencer knows everything. But I’m not exactly… Out to the team, let alone Spencer. I don’t think I told him.

“How did I know what, Bumblebee?” Spencer glanced over at me for a brief second. I sighed deeply as I looked over at him.

“You used 'they'… When you and Emily were talking about me and the interrogation… You used 'they' and 'them' when you talked about me… How’d you know? I haven’t told anyone…” I whispered as I looked over at him. He stayed silent for a long time. I wasn’t too sure what he was thinking, but it made me very nervous.

“I saw you at the library with a book about gender/sexuality history and science… And I saw you looking at a non-binary/gender non-conforming forum the other day. So, I connected the dots,” Spencer looked over at me as he pulled to a stop at the red light. I swallowed roughly as I looked at him. “I didn’t mean to off-”

“You didn’t offend me, Spence,” I whispered and shook my head before dropping my gaze from him. My fingers fiddled with the seatbelt across my lap. I could feel my heart going a million miles an hour, and no matter how hard I tried to calm it… nothing worked. “I just… I haven’t used the words out loud before… I’ve haven't told anyone… I mean, I’ve just figured it out myself,” I shrugged again. I glanced at him as he started going again. “I’ve always known I didn’t really identify as… Ya know… And I guess just recently I finally put a name to it,” I sighed as I pressed my head into the headrest. Spencer glanced at me, again. He was obviously trying to keep his eyes on the road, but he was very concerned about our conversation.

“You’ve never said it out loud? Or told anyone?” He asked, clarifying what I had just said. I swallowed roughly and nodded.

“Yeah, I just…” I stopped, letting my words trail off. My thoughts ran wild. If I just said that I was non-binary, it’d make my life easier, I’d be so much happier. So, why haven’t I just come out and said it? “So, say it now. It’s just me,” Spencer whispered as he looked over at me for the briefest second. My heart stopped with his words, and suddenly my mind was quiet. “No one else to hear."

“What?” I spoke, my voice a breathless whisper. I looked over at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Only if you want to. I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do.” Spencer’s voice was soft as he spoke. I looked over at him, feeling my stomach do an anxious flip.

“What if it changes the way you think about me?” I asked, feeling my throat tighten up around the words. Out of all of the friends that I had, Spencer was the only one I didn’t want to lose. In a weird way, I felt like he understood me. Like we were both the outcasts of the team, for our different reasons.

“Why would that change the way I think of you?” Spencer looked up at me and I shrugged. I stared at him, feeling my face twist up in confusion. Even his face had some confusion on it.

“I don’t know. People usually…” My words trailed off again, not knowing what I was exactly wanting to say to him. “You’re not mad at me? Or hate me or anything…? Right…?” I asked, my voice wavering slightly in fear. Fear of what? I was scared he would resent me. It wouldn’t have been the first, or last, time someone resented me. So, why would I expect him to not resent me?

“Why would I hate you? Because you’re finally more comfortable with yourself? Or want to be more comfortable with yourself?” Spencer looked at me as he furrowed his brows. I looked down at my lap and shrugged. “You still haven’t said it, but we’re talking about it like you did,” he pointed out. I dropped my shoulders as I looked over at him.

“You really want me to say it,” I laughed dryly. Spencer smiled at me and shrugged.

“Only if you want to. Just think about how much better you’ll feel,” he offered. I looked down at my lap and sighed.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” I looked back up at him and smiled, “I’m non-binary.” I could feel a certain weight get lifted off my shoulders as I looked at him. Spencer also had a genuine smile on his lips as he looked at me. Like, he also seemed happy with my words.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, you know,” Spencer smiled at me as he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building. I glanced at him before laughing. “I’m being serious,” he chuckled lightly.

“I sure hope there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re the one who encouraged me to say it!” I laughed as I unbuckled. Spencer returned the laughter before looking over at me.

“Then, why do you care what the team thinks?” Spencer asked as he searched for his apartment keys. “Their opinion shouldn’t matter. It’s your life,” he shrugged and looked up at me once he finally found his keys.

“Everyone on the team is all my friends and all my family…” I whispered as I looked over at him, “I don’t know what everyone will think,” I knew he wanted me to say it out loud to the team, but I was avoiding it. It’s not that I’m not ready. I just don’t want him to think differently of me.

“When has anyone on the team thought bad of you, Bumblebee?” Spencer asked again before parking the car. I swallowed roughly and looked back down at my lap. Of course, when I actually cut my hair short the first time… I had gotten a horrible haircut and everyone commented on it. “No one’s going to think anything bad about you if you come out,” he reassured. I sighed deeply as I looked towards the ground.

“Yeah, but I don’t care about them Spencer,” I rolled my eyes. I rolled my eyes because even though I do care what the team thinks, I think I care more about what Spencer thinks about me. But, I didn’t want to tell him that.

“Then, why were you so worried about it,” Spencer looked over at me before getting out of the car. I stayed in the car for a moment, silent with my thoughts. He’s got a point though. Why was I so worried about it? Of course, the team was my family. I don’t think I could risk losing the team for being… well, me. Maybe Spencer was right. Who am I kidding? Spencer’s always right. About everything. Maybe I should just tell the team… I’d feel a lot better.

I stayed quiet as we walked into the apartment building. In fact, we were both silent. Which was a rarity in our friendship; one of us was always talking, and it was always Spencer. He always had something to say. I wondered what he was thinking about in that head of his. Until I didn’t have to wonder...

“Native American people have a third gender, generally called two-spirit, where the person takes on roles more or less attributed to the opposite sex or both sexes,” Spencer suddenly started an info dump. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I read this exact thing in a book not too long ago. But, it meant so much to me that he wanted to tell me this.

“When europeans came along, they came with the strict gender binary rooted in Puritism, which put heavy emphasis on community and the importance of procreational (heterosexual) marriage within,” he paused to glance at me, probably to make sure I was still listening. And I was. There would be nothing to stop me from listening to him.

“Once the colonizers became a country after the american revolution, they wanted to get as far away from britain as possible. Part of this came with separating themselves from the effeminate man of Britain, whom they saw as feminine and dainty. As a result, they made the American Man, who is basically Teddy Roosevelt in that he is rugged, bold, strong, brutish, daring, and able to survive on the frontier and provide for his family,” he continued as he unlocked the door to his apartment. It was nice to be in a familiar place that felt like home, and felt safe.

“In comparison, the woman was supposed to be the American Housewife who stayed at home, cooked the meals, and raised the children. Thus, the American binary,” Spencer continued his info dump, clearly not knowing he was talking outloud.

I just stared at Spencer with the utmost adoration in my eyes and face. A small smile grew on my lips as he continued to ramble and info dump about stuff I was newly introduced to. I don’t know why I didn’t tell him sooner, I’m sure he would have been a big help. “That’s very interesting, Spencer,” I smiled at him and cocked my head to my shoulder. Spencer looked at me, a slight panicked look in his eye.

“I’m… I’m sorry, was I rambling?” He stopped talking and looked at me after a moment of him talking. I shook my head, silently telling him he wasn’t rambling, even though he totally was. At this point we had parted ways, but still held the conversation between rooms, and across his apartment, him being in the kitchen while I stayed in the living room.

“Anyways… I could continue going on about it all. How WW2 influenced the LGBT community and how Nuclear Families messed it all up too,” he spoke before stepping out of the kitchen and leading me to his bedroom.

“I’m sorry, what?” I looked back at him with furrowed eyebrows. I was honestly surprised with that tiny tidbit of information. “Go on,” I raised a brow as I looked at him. I got comfortable on the bed while I waited for him.

“Yeah! The advent of urban areas provided the perfect place for sexuality and gender identity expression,” he continued talking as he stepped into the bathroom to change, and even continued while in the bathroom, “Many single people suddenly began moving from rural farms with family and religion to urban apartments on their own or with someone of the same identity/gender/sex,” he finally concluded before stepping out of the bathroom. I looked at him and cocked my head to my shoulder. I didn’t have anything to say after he rambled on, so we both stayed silent as we got comfortable in bed.

“How do you know so much about gender identity and the LGBT community?” I asked, turning to face him more. Spencer looked at me with a nervous smile before looking out to the blanket spread out over us.

“Oh, I, uh… I did a lot of research when I saw you in the library… And, after I saw you on the forum,” Spencer looked at me and nodded. I could sense that he was lying, and he knew that I could sense it. So, I raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sure this is the exact reason,” I smiled before shifting down the bed to get comfortable, “No other reason?” I looked up at him.

“Nope, no other reason,” he looked down at his book before shaking his head. I could tell there was definitely something, and I could tell he wanted to tell me. But, I won’t force it out of him, just like how he didn’t force it out of me.

“Well, if you have something to tell me… I won’t force it outta you,” I looked over at him with a smile. Spencer glanced at me before grabbing for a book on his nightstand. I shifted down the bed and looked at my phone. “No one’s going to think anything bad about you,” I glanced at him again, repeating the exact things he said to me early in the evening. Spencer glared at me before looking back in his book.

“You’re the worst,”

“You’re worse than me, Spence,” I laughed as I looked at my phone. I grinned as I browsed random social media. “It’s okay, I get it,” I shrugged before falling silent.

“I suppose it’s only fair,” he spoke out loud after a moment of silence. I looked up at him, watching as he shifted in his seat. He closed his book before looking down at me, “I guess I’ve been in the same boat as you for a while… Not knowing what anyone would think if I came out, fearing that they’d hate me or judge me,”

“Spencer, you’re the most loved person on the team. No one would ever hate you or judge you,” I sat up before turning to look at him. Spencer looked up at me and nodded. I’m glad we could both agree on that. If anyone hated Spencer Reid, I can guarantee that they’d have a whole fleet of FBI agents on their ass. “You can trust me with anything, Spencer,” I whispered before reaching out for his hands. He looked down at where our hands sat before cocking his head to the side.

“I already trust you more than anyone on the team,” he smiled and chuckled with a nod, “I’ve never told anyone except for one person,” he whispered as he looked up at me.

“That’s okay,” I shrugged as I looked at him.

“I’m bisexual,” he whispered, his eyes dropping away from my. I stared at him, taking a deep breath. A small smile tugged on the corner of my lips as a worried look grew on Spencer’s.

“Was that so bad?” I whispered as I fell forward to give him a hug. Spencer laughed as he embraced me. “It felt good, didn’t it?” I backed away from him slightly. Spencer smiled and nodded.

“Like a weight off my shoulders,” he laughed as he looked back at me, “Thanks for that,”

“No, thank you, Spencer, I really needed you and your wonderful words of wisdom… I’ve been struggling with my sexuality a lot, ever since I was a teen really, and you just being there helped,” I smiled at him as I got comfortable in the bed. With that, we fell into a comfortable silence. Sleep wouldn’t find its way to us anytime soon. I think we were both still reeling on the adrenaline of the day.

But then, I started thinking about our conversation in the car. When I had mentioned I was worried about him (or anyone else) thinking differently of me. I mean, that’s been a fear of mine for years. Someone can go from loving you to the ends of the earth to wanting to be on the furthest end of the earth just to be away from you. So, my fear was totally valid. I didn’t want to lose my friendship with Spencer, or anyone on the team.

I quickly glanced at Spencer, noting that he was still quietly reading his book. He seemed at total peace with, well, everything. How did he do it? How did he get out of his head after a rough case, and after such a serious conversation? There were too many things I wanted to know, and too many questions I wanted to ask… Why not just ask them?

So, I did...

“Earlier, when you said me being non-binary wouldn’t change the way you think of me… How do…” I paused for a minute, trying to figure my next set of words. Because I could say something wrong, and it’d be the end of everything. “What do you think of me?” I looked up at him as I spoke. He smiled softly and nodded. It was probably a mistake, asking him what his thoughts were on me. I could only think of the worst. Well, I shouldn’t say the worst possible. Worst case scenario was that he was faking it all and he actually hated me. Well, don’t be too hard on yourself.

“Well, you know,” Spencer shrugged as he shifted closer to me. I looked up at him before leaning away from him.

“No, I don’t think I do know,” I stared at him, furrowing my eyebrows. He looked at me, dropping his book to his lap and slumping his shoulders slightly.

“I love you… Okay? I love you whether you’re they/them, she/her, he/him, I don’t care, as long as you’re happy. If you’re happy, then I’m happy, because that’s all that matters to me. Your happiness,” he rambled for a minute. I just stared at him, feeling my shoulders relax as he spoke. My heart rate raised as he continued to talk about how he really felt about me, and I wished he said something sooner… “Hearing Emily misgendering you, and knowing what was going through your head… Sucked… It sucked watching! You deserve the best things…” He continued on, not caring that he was still rambling.

“Spencer,” I whispered, resting a hand on his shoulder to gain his attention.

“And it’s ridiculous how long I’ve been in love with you too! I should have said something sooner but I didn’t! I don-”

“Spencer!” I shouted this time. It wasn’t an angry shout, though. No, the giggles in my voice and joyful smile on my lips told a different story. And that seemed to get his attention, considering he stopped talking and looked at me. His eyes scanned my face, landing on the joyous smile on my lips.

“Yes?” He asked softly. I nearly fell into his body, and face, as I let my excitement get the better of me as I tried to kiss him. Spencer laughed as he lifted his hands to my shoulders to make sure I didn’t crash into him.

“I love you too,” I smiled as I looked up at his face. His eyes landed back on my face, his smile becoming soft as he looked at me. The expression his face held showed me that I was now his everything. And, it was a new feeling. I would never get used to a feeling so… grand. But, it was a feeling that I loved, and knew it’d be around for a long time. “What do you think the team will say?” I asked, looking at Spencer as he cupped my face in his hands.

“About what, Honeybee?” he retorted, his voice a soft whisper.

“About us, you and me being, well, you and me,” I tried to bite back my smile but failed when Spencer smiled back.

“Who cares what they think… I just care about you,” he smiled before pulling me back in for another kiss.

“I think I like that answer."

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