#like alcohol helps and keeping conversations going with safe topics but sometimes I just wanted to jump off the tenth floor of a building

[drunk-on-dk]

Days and Nights were like... | Seventeen Headcanon (m)

Days and Nights with the members were... - ot13 headcanon

w/c: ~2.2k

warnings: suggestive content, some smut (? idk nothing too explicit, but MDNI), fluffy fluffy, food and alcohol mentions, minors do not interact!!! (18+)

a/n: this was an activity I did to get my mind warmed up to keep working on some WIP, i hope you enjoy these!

Choi Seungcheol

Days with Seungcheol were… chaste kisses before you both leave for work. Sometimes they were random calls during your work break where any random bystander would think he was angry, but only you could practically hear the pout on his lips just from the slight whine in his tone, “when do you get off of work today? you didn’t even kiss me goodbye this morning.” He’d proceed to get his revenge by sending you pictures of him after his Jiu-Jitsu class.

Nights with Seungcheol were…  nights out on the town, delicious food, one too many bottles of soju, and hasty kisses against the wall in the alleyway of the bar you two ended up at. Seungcheol would call you two a cab back home, shushing you and reminding you to behave (even though he doesn’t mind the PDA – it was the tinge of possessiveness in him). His hand would be tightly wrapped around your thigh the entire ride as a firm reminder of the night to come.

Yoon Jeonghan

Days with Jeonghan were… ruffles of your hair as he agrees to help you try a new recipe in the kitchen. Ultimately, you’re stifling any giggles of yours as Jeonghan almost loses his everlasting patience for the nth time over a new kitchen appliance. You’ll find all sorts of items in the oddest of places after your meal is done, even the measuring spoon that Jeonghan oh-so-cleverly hid in your hoodies appears days later in the wash. Admittedly, even after all the tomfoolery, Jeonghan swears every new recipe is the best damn meal of his life, and you believe him every time.

Nights with Jeonghan were… carefree and adventurous, yet safe and warm; anything goes when it’s just you two against the world. Whether it is a night out with each other’s friends, or if it's hours rolling between the sheets, you two will never get enough of each other (not when you’re each other’s favorite person). He’d play nice for you all day, but when he had you right where he wanted you in bed, he’d ravage you until he knew his angel was taken care of.

Hong Joshua

Days with Joshua were… comfortable conversations between tasks, forehead kisses, and earnest touches. Nothing you did ever went unnoticed, even if it was from afar. Not a day would pass that Joshua didn’t make sure that you knew your worth. Loving notes were left on the mirror, sweet nothings were whispered in passing, and deep conversations were held over cups of coffee. It’s almost as if he was fueled by making you blush.

Nights with Joshua were… candlelit dinners at your favorite restaurant shared smiles that make your cheekbones hurt, and whipped cream kisses. However, the feast didn’t end after dessert but continued all the way to the bed. He was always a starved man when it came to you, but you were insatiable as well. Maybe you’d two even try a new kink that was mentioned over dinner every so often.

Wen Junhui

Days with Junhui were… comfortable, quiet walks around town just to end up at a cat café. He’d talk your ear off the whole way home about how cute that one kitty was and how you two should go back tomorrow. He’d become shy once he’d realized he hadn’t let you get a word in once, but you always reassure him that you love listening to him, no matter the topic.

Nights with Junhui were… loving arms encapsulating your frame as you both scrolled through your social media. You’d find yourself counting his moles just like how you’d count the stars in the night sky. He’d give you a curious look up until you’d smash your lips into his, which of course he’d melt into without hesitation. He likes when you take control, he loves that you take the time every night to let him know just how important he is to you.

Kwon Soonyoung

Days with Soonyoung were… toothy smiles and shared sweatshirts. Soonyoung couldn’t hide his chuckle or smile when you’d stumble out of your room in his clothing. If he could, he’d bottle you up and take you everywhere with him. However, it was Soonyoung who followed you everywhere, to the grocery store, to the mall, on your walks to the park when you’d already put your headphones on. It’s not like you’d ever complain though, you don’t know what you’d do without him.

Nights with Soonyoung were… coming up with ridiculous dance moves in the middle of a bar. Everyone was convinced you two were the perfect match. Beyond the bubbly nature of your relationship, nights with Soonyoung were carnal, driven by pure desire and hunger. All you had to do was nibble on his ear, whisper something dirty, and he was on his knees at the edge of the bed for you. God, you were perfect for him, there was no one else like you.

Jeon Wonwoo

Days with Wonwoo were… cozy like rainy days, the smell of petrichor making you feel at ease as you and Wonwoo start yet another movie. You both liked the excuse to stay in with each other all day with no obligations, just enjoying one another’s company and listening to the pitter-patter of raindrops on the window. You’d sink deeper into his hold when he’d laugh at a funny part of whatever movie was on, loving the way his deep laugh vibrated from his firm chest and made your entire body tingle with warmth.

Nights with Wonwoo were… letting him teach you his favorite game and pouting when you’d continue to lose to him, even though he is an experienced player. Shockingly enough, you’d soon become better at it than he is after a few hours spent playing together. Ultimately, this would earn you a special award later in between the sheets for all your achievements. He’d still make you work for it though as a reminder of your bratty attitude earlier on, but he’d make it worth your while as per usual.

Lee Jihoon

Days with Jihoon were… packed lunches and visits to him. He was the hardest worker you’d ever met, someone had to take care of him, and you made sure that person was you. He’d never know how to voice his appreciation, but you knew he’d cared without needing him to say anything. You understood just how much he cared when you peeked in the top drawer of his desk; all your little sticky notes from the packed lunches that you brought him were all saved, piled, and kept neatly in an accessible spot. You’d continue to write the notes even though he’d look flustered every time he’d open his lunch.

Nights with Jihoon were… staying tucked away in your hotel room together, sharing fleeting kisses during commercials, and venturing out to the local convenience store to pick up various snacks. You made Jihoon crack in ways that no one else ever could. He’d like to consider he had good restraint, but that didn’t apply when it came to you. You’d be pinned down tightly against whatever surface he could have you on, basking in the way you’d become so pliable for him so quickly.

Lee Seokmin

Days with Seokmin were… soaking in the sunshine of his everlasting warmth, feeling sun-kissed from all the shared chuckles and jokes. You’re not even sure what you two are laughing about at this point, all you know is that the world seems to slow down every time you look him in the eyes, pure joy radiating through your body and calming you for a second before you break into another fit of laughter.

Nights with Seokmin were… scattered clothing across the floor, up the stairs, and down the hallway leading to your bedroom. Your lips would only break apart to come up for air occasionally. The taste of your lips, the touch of your skin, the smell of your hair. It was all enough to overwhelm his senses. If it were up to Seokmin, he’d breathe you in all day and all night. He’d consume you if he could.

Kim Mingyu

Days with Mingyu were… random acts of kindness, the type that makes your cheeks burn when he’d drop off your favorite mid-day pick-me-up coffee at work, or when you’d come home to a bouquet of roses and a handwritten note. You didn’t need all these items when you already had the most thoughtful partner in the world, his smile when you’d walk through the door was enough of a gift for you.

Nights with Mingyu were… shy, soft touches that slowly became desperate and rough. He was easy to rile up, and you enjoyed doing so by teasing him every so often whilst you two were out and about. You’d pass by him, ensuring that you’d graze him just enough to drive him crazy, earning you a warning squeeze to your hip. You’d have him begging for you by the end of the night like the good boy he is.

Xu Minghao

Days with Minghao were… shared book recommendations, he’d bring you the most recent novel he completed and thought you might enjoy it as well. The scent of your sweet perfume would mix with the aroma of the inked paper, and there was nothing more comforting than that. Reading sessions would become tickle-fights. He liked the way you’d pout, a wide smile on his face as you squirmed in his grasp. He’d feel content once he’d released you, absolutely endeared how you’d immediately bury yourself back in the chapter you left off at.  

Nights with Minghao were… random “fashion shows” that had him clutching his stomach from laughing too hard, absolutely endeared by how you’d exit his closet in haphazardly pulled-together outfits. Nights with him were also experimental because no one else knew you better than he did. Minghao knew exactly how to push you to the brink, knew exactly how to make you shiver in anticipation, and knew your body better than anyone else ever could. He could stay in with you every night if you let him.

Boo Seungkwan

Days with Seungkwan were… noticing how well your head nuzzled into the crook of Seungkwan’s neck. You two fit together like two puzzle pieces, comfortably sipping on your coffees as you two took some time to rest together between errands and daily tasks. You’d listen to Seungkwan rant about something that had gone wrong in the day. Thank goodness he couldn’t see the small smile that graced your features as he’d ramble on, sipping on the sweet taste of your drink and burrowing even deeper into his neck.

Nights with Seungkwan were… long winds of karaoke that would eventually exhaust you both. Seungkwan would watch you with an endearing smile as you plop down on the couch. The kisses were always long and deep on tired nights like this. Lovemaking was slow paced like the ballads you two had previously belted. Or the rhythm was quick and sharp, using up the last ounce of energy until you were milking him dry.

Hansol Vernon Chwe

Days with Vernon were… soft bobs of the head as you two worked on your own tasks. Vernon had curated the playlist, especially for moments like this. When you had asked him about it, he’d stuttered out a response that it was something he just threw together for fun. There wasn’t a day that went by that you didn’t listen to his playlist. Most of the songs would end up in your top played by the end of the year, forever being gentle reminders of your relationship with Vernon.

Nights with Vernon were… as if the stars and moon perfectly aligned no matter the season, the way Vernon’s eyes twinkle in the moonlight is enough for you to believe in fate. Vernon believes in it too, jaw slack every time you strip down for him, rather he is unbelieving you are his for the taking. He does everything he can to ensure you receive the love you deserve, the way your body so perfectly molds against him is a reminder that fate does really exist.

Lee Chan

Days with Chan were… constant exchanges of texts. He’d send you a pun, followed by a random picture of one of the guys, followed by a sweet “I miss you” message. You were quick to reciprocate, as something about his demeaner hit a soft spot in you. You yearned to see his bright smile after each text, knowing that the pun you shot right back would make him laugh in an instant. Imagining his soft chuckle and smile was enough to get you through the day until you could come back home to him.

Nights with Chan were… not nearly as soft as your text exchanges. It was domineering and passionate, but Chan liked when you gave him a taste of his own medicine. The bedroom was competitive for you two in a way, however, there was one shared goal of pleasing each other. You both would always go to bed satisfied, the lusty rivalry tiring you both out until you found peace in each other’s arms.

[godhasforsnakenme]

November was quite productive at the beginning, so much that I made a damn list with a bit of commentary:

Loki s2 Ending :D (just murder me k? but also lokius canon idgaf; also have you seen the fanart where croki takes over tree sitting for a while so loki can go back to mobius for the holidays omfg the best thing ever)

Fellow Travelers (p*ramount+, on-going plus I read the book [have yet to finish the book lol])

Continuing Psych (half way through s3 now, and I'd just like to say thar it always breaks my heart a bit when Shawn realizes his mom was the one that left his dad, not the other way around [bc of course Henry would take the blame and just take the hate from Shawn all these years just to keep Madeleine in good graces]

Rewatch of Hunger Games (yes, also read the books)

Vuelve a Mí (p*acock, on-going)

Elemental (d*sney)

No Hard Feelings (2023)

All the Light We Cannot See

Rewatch of The Pacific & Band of Brothers (first watched in high school during our WWII unit in History 101/102; then during that one weekend in the hospital during 2020)

Rewatch of Six Feet Under (Peter Krause, my beloved)

Backdraft (1991) [this also begun a Robert DeNiro film rewatch including Hide & Seek, Awakening {which lead to a Robin Williams film rewatch and then me rereading Chris Van Allsburg's entire children's book catalog because it's some of my favorite content from when I was in 3rd grade} oh boy it turned into a rabbit hole very fast didn't it? ]

Danny Phantom + Over The Garden Wall (cannot believe I waited this long into the fall season and well past spooky month to watch them omfg)

Goosebumps Series (again with the waiting for the last month of fall to watch the spooky month stuff omfg, anyway I enjoyed it)

The Spiderwick Chronicles (planning on rereading the books as well [gonna see if I want to rent them through libby or just buy the set? But then I want the classic covers on them that I remember from elementary school)

Bridgewater (podcast, both seasons [picking it back up from where I left off back in 2021 because that's that one year I dropped a lot of projects due to the shit show that was November and yeah I then said welp s2 is out next year and continued to push it back until now)

Yellowstone (reminded us of longmire, can't wait for s5 part b)

Doctor Who Specials (had us in the first half [twice] ngl [did a separate post with my final thoughts on the giggle, so yeah, that's that {feel like I need to rewatch the Christmas special to get an honest opinion out of it bc I watched it while a bit distracted])

For December, it's short because I spent my afternoons shopping and giftwrapping; also, the days really go by quick because for the most part I spent them in other people's company :)

Per tradition, the SpongeBob s1 special 'Christmas Who?'

Then all three versions of The Grinch to keep it festive lol (little grinch in the animated version with Benny boy is adorable)

Dr. Death s1 (oh boy, gonna start s2 soon)

Last, and most definitely think least lmaoooo, What If s2 because I like the animations and quick snippets of aus (but trust and believe I hate the fucking c*ptain carter narrative with a passion)

And that's a wrap on all the stuff I watched in 2023! Might do this again, who knows or might even just do a books finished reading thing or anything else I join in on lol

Oh, and honorable mention: since like the summer, I've been joining in on tiktok to watch streamer Hawkeyedood & his mario64 speed runs; think he deserves an award because that is one thing I joined in to watch just about everytime the notification went off without eventually getting bored of it lol

January's brain rot was mostly Obikin, plus whatever else my brain has decided to completely blank on (it was a long month okay?)

February would like to add on Longmire & Miraculous to the mix, along with the yearly switching from football to baseball mode

[punemy-spotted]

The Price You Pay

Pairing: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Non-con/Dub-con, mentions of murder, unclear timeline, blackmail, unprotected sex, fingering (F!receiving), smut, esoteric references to past abuse, manipulation, Dark!Fic

Words: 5.2k (holy fuck?)

Summary: You need his help. He names his price.

Notes: This is for @stargazingfangirl18 and her incredible 5K Soft!Dark Challenge and I can't believe I wrote over 5k words for a oneshot, making this the longest piece I've ever written. I took a blend of prompts: Mob!AU; “When I woke up this morning, I certainly didn’t think my day would end like this;” and “That’s a big favor you’re asking for, I think you need to make it worth my while.”

And this was intended to be a oneshot but now I can't stop thinking about it so thanks Siri, I think this is now a part of my WIPs too! Your work is amazing and I had a blast being able to take part in this!

As usual, my work is 18+ ONLY, Minors DO NOT INTERACT

You went to him first.

You went to him, handed them your business card and I want to speak to Steve Rogers.

Honestly they almost threw you out with an extra hole in your head but then the man of the hour walked right in.

So now you’re here. Now you’re here, sitting across a gorgeous dining table with a ten-course meal laid out and honestly you’re surprised they didn’t tie your wrists to the arms of the chair while you watch him eat and take in the look of those baby blue eyes scanning you over.

He even brought you non-alcoholic rosé, when you said you didn’t drink.

So.

So.

You wanted to talk to me?

Yeah, I do. Thought you’d just sit me in your office, have a consultation.

I like breaking bread with new friends. Have a nice dinner, get the wine flowing — of course, that’s not gonna loosen your tongue, but we’ll forgive it.

Oh. Cool, I like being forgiven.

He laughs at that one and the room, strumming with tension, snaps into amusement. So do you, cracking a half smile on dark red lips, before swallowing down the lump of anxiety threatening to break through and destroy everything. You need this. You need this and you can’t let anything — not your nervousness, not your morals, not him — stop you. You need this and it needs to be done and if this is what justice is in this fucking city then so be it.

Well, sweetness, you’ve got my attention. You want to talk business or pleasure?

That one makes you laugh, a little sharp and a little cruel, and the curling smirk on his face gets a little furrowed because he hears it too — pain.

It could be both, you say finally, picking up the glass of rosé-that-wasn’t, if your reputation is as real as they say it is.

He lifts a bite of cheesecake into his mouth and lets it melt on his tongue while he watches you, somewhere between impressed and incensed. You know the look — you saw it the last time he met you in court, but you weren’t there as allies then. Never thought you’d come to me, he admits finally, sounding halfway bemused at the idea, but you’re full of surprises, aren’t you, Counsel?

You wince, or maybe smirk, eyes on the man before you.

It’s a game, a dance, a ruse, and the woman you thought you were thirteen months ago when you put four of Steve Rogers’s best men in jail for fifteen years — fifteen years longer than any District Attorney had ever managed to do before you, and you were just the rookie they handed a shit case to — is leagues different from the woman you are now, seated prim and proper in the lion’s den.

You’re not innocent. That’s not been your game for years — this life doesn’t leave room for innocence, it tears at you, leaves you tired and broken and ill.

Your colleagues learned to fear him a long time ago, the man before you. Captain America, leading the city, the country, the world into a new era of high tech crime all under his thumb. It’s a pretty shiny shield, the one that sits behind him, but mirrors are black on the other side and his soul is dark as coal.

You’re not an angel yourself, and this deal with the Devil isn’t for anyone but you.

I need someone taken care of.

So you come to me? I thought you were a lady of morals, Counsel.

Certain kinds of morals.

You can see him smile, see the way he raises his glass, the glimmer of malice and amusement in his eyes. So tell me. What’s the name?

You give it.

He’s not in the city, your target, but he will be. A Judge, an activist, real tough-on-crime-sweet-on-justice type of shit. You don’t tell him the reasons why, because those are yours, but you tell him the name. You tell him he’s a problem, you tell him he’s dangerous, you tell him you’ll pay to have him taken care of, you tell him you don’t want to practice in front of that black, black robe.

And he smiles like the Devil he is, watches you with a grin and drinks his whiskey in one last shot before slamming it down, Real woman of the law, aren’t you?

You said that when we met the first time.

He’s a hunter, you can see it in his eyes. That lion’s mane might be tamed right now but it won’t be for long and you’re playing with wild animals. The eyes on you are ice and daggers, daring you to do the one thing everyone in the office has been begging you not to do.

(Drop the charges, Rookie, the case is just to get your face in front of the judge.)

You upped the charges.

(Rookie, you don’t know what you’re dealing with, there’s other cases.)

You subpoenaed his phone records.

(Rookie, don’t make me drag you off this case!)

You won.

You had no witnesses and a jury you had to drag in from god-knows-where after you proved, over and over again, that he’d paid off the cohort in the courtroom. Finding people with nothing to lose and a desire to do their civic duty wasn’t harder than you thought — it was exactly as impossible as you expected.

But you did it.

That’s what you do, isn’t it? Push and push and fight, claw your fingers at the ledge and pull yourself up, you pay for your crimes in your blood, sweat and tears you pay for the things you could have done then and didn’tdo.

You pay.

And sometimes, that payment bounces back.

And when it was all said and done, when the closing statements were delivered, when the Jury came back out and the Judge — hands shaking, mouth agape, eyes wide — read out the verdict no one expected, you… didn’t feel any better, did you? There was no justice for you in that room, just the searing glare of ice-blue eyes and the burning of your steel spine.

Real woman of the law, aren’t you?

First words he said to you, while the courtroom emptied out and you stood there, facing the man you’d just made an enemy of with your briefcase in your hand and your eyes aflame.

I did my job.

Did you? Is that what you think your job is?

My job is justice, unflinching and blind, Mr. Rogers. I don’t care how much power you have or how afraid you leave this city, I’m going to do my job.

You could always let justice turn a blind eye.

Yeah. I could, but that wouldn’t make this any fun, would it? Thank you for the win, Mr. Rogers — I’m sure I won’t get many more.

You leave him with a smile on his face and the scent of your perfume in his memories.

He leaves you with the pride of victory in your bones and a reminder that your strife could be worth it.

One day.

How do you plan to fill that pit, the one you tossed the corpses of your old self into? The one you let them claw up out of, to haunt you? Remind you?

You’re digging your own grave and you know it, but you won’t let Steven Grant Rogers be the first one to toss a handful of dirt over your corpse.

But now here you are.

In his dining room, enjoying dessert and some sort of after-meal coffee. In need of him…

This might almost have been a date, if not for the topic of conversation.

So. You want a Judge taken out. What if he’s already on my payroll?

Why would you keep a dead man in your pocket?

You like the sound of his laugh, and you don’t even have the excuse of wine to fall back on when it warms your core. Don’t admit it though, don’t say it aloud, don’t let him get an in. Be smart, cross your legs tighter, keep your eyes on the prize.

You’re so close to the finish line.

That’s a big favor you’re asking for, Counsel, I think you need to make it worth my while.

Worth your while?

I’m not a charity. And since you put the guy I usually use to handle these things behind bars for a few years—

You know I can get him out too.

That’s not payment, that’s putting things right.

You take a drink. Steady on, girl.

I’m leaving the DA’s office.

That stops him.

Oh that stops him good, and he looks fascinated. Interested. You’ve said something he can use as leverage and it’s not just about a job. That smirk on his face is smug and his eyes are darker and he has to know the impact that look has.

Can’t falter, don’t falter, don’t give in.

Am I allowed to ask why?

No.

You’ve done your research. You just don’t know why you’re thinking about it now. Steven Grant Rogers, “Captain America,” leader of a crime family that had too many names to stamp out, bolstered by a mad scientist, a military man through-and-through who turned New York into his own private base against whatever stood against his way.

Get in his good graces and you’re set for life. Get in his good graces and you’re safe, you’re protected, you’re good.

Get on his bad side and you only make that mistake once.

There are no second chances in this game, and here you are, asking for one.

So what? You leave the DA’s office, you leave yourself open to me — you think leaving New York is going to be the thing that stops me, Counsel?

No.

Then what?

Breathe. Steady.

I know you gave me that win on purpose — you could have taken out my last jury cohort. This isn’t about the four men… and you know I’ll get them out. This is something else, but I’m not here to ask about what or why.

He falters just briefly, like he’s surprised you knew, but the crack in his mask smooths itself over as soon as it forms and he’s back to watching you, nodding along in silence while you breathe and watch him and keep talking.

But even then. I got four of your guys in prison. And I know how your organization works — I subpoenaed the documents, remember? Your lawyers are good, but they’re not used to people asking the right questions. You want someone to seal up the cracks you need someone who actually knows what to look for.

You have more than his attention, you have his interest, and now he’s leaning in a little. Imperceptibly, but enough. Scanning over you from across the table, like he’s thinking how you managed to get so impertinent in the face of the likes of him but that’s the thing — when the only thing you have left to lose is your life, you’ll risk everything.

So what are you offering?

Breathe. Don’t. Stammer.

Myself.

The chair scrapes and suddenly there’s the clicking of guns, aimed and ready until his hand rises up and he stops them and he’s stalking towards you.

This is the lion’s den, sweetness.

The stakes are higher and you ought to be braver and he’s got your chin in his hand before you have a chance to react, dragging you to your feet. Do you know what you’re offering me, Counsel? Low and hissed and hungry, like those perfect teeth might be sinking into your throat in the next moment.

Oh, you have no idea.

You get me. On your payroll — you know. The offer you sent me a year ago.

You think it’s still open?

If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t have met with me.

The chuckle in your face makes your cheeks warm and you’re looking more flushed than you would like, the open shoulders of your dress suddenly feeling a lot more like a mistake the more you realize just what kind of meal he might make out of you tonight.

We might need to have a discussion about your workplace duties, Counsel.

You don’t notice the hand near your thigh until it’s too late, sliding up the soft fabric of your skirt until it’s squeezing your ass, until it’s jerking you towards him, until you’re pressed against his chest and the hand on your chin is now hooked around the back of your neck, thumb pushing your jaw until you’re forced to look at him. Won’t lie, when I woke up this morning, I certainly didn’t think my day would end like this, having your pretty little body in my arms,and you can look as indignant as you want but he’s got the upper hand and you only thought you were two steps ahead of him.

You think I haven’t thought about what it’d be like to put you in your place, Counsel? You’ve got a smart mouth — I wanna know what else it can do.

He doesn’t give you a chance to use that mouth to lash at him, lips sliding over yours, swallowing that indignant yelp with a punishing kiss. Nipping at the plushness of your lower lip until you open your mouth and yield to him with a sigh of reluctant surrender, let his tongue slide past that barrier for him to explore. He’s got his fingers wound through your hair, just a little too tight and whether the whimper in your chest is because of the pain or because of the want, he doesn’t care.

Knew you’d be sweet, Counsel… softly, when he pulls back to look at you, take a look at those love-swollen lips and your ruined lipstick, the pretty way you pant at him already, the heat burning your cheeks. Pay no attention to the slick warmth between your thighs, pay no attention to the way he makes you burn already, pay no attention to how your fingers have curled into the lapel of his coat to hold yourself steady, pay no attention to how you suddenly miss the pressure of his lips.

All that smart-talk and now you’re quiet, Counsel? F’I knew it just took a kiss to get you to shut up, I would’ve done that at trial, he’s purring in your ear, soft and sweet and you should push at his chest, so uncurl your fingers girl and push.

I didn’t say I was selling my body, there’s your harshness, and there he is, laughing at you again, the grip on your hair jerking your head back until you’re looking into those dagger-cold eyes again.

You don’t make the rules here, Counsel, I do, and you need me more than I need you. So if you want to make sure your Judge can’t start wreaking havoc on your career… you might want to get used to readjusting it for me. I promise I’ll make you feel nice, if you let me…

And if I don’t?

Then I take what I want and I don’t feel bad for not holding up my end of the bargain. Your choice, Counsel, you cum willingly and I’ll give you everything you want. Don’t, and it’ll hurt you more than it hurts me.

That’s not a threat, that’s a promise, and suddenly you’re more scared than you ever thought you’d be, wondering if you’ll need to sell another part of your soul to take him down after. How much of yourself will you put up as collateral to get justice for the wrongs you were never able to correct?

You’re afraid.

Oh sweetness, you’re afraid.

Here? Now?

No, Counsel, we’re gonna do this right, aren’t we? You wanna be in bed with me, I’ll take you to bed with me. Come on, say it. Say the word.

Say no. Say no, rail and fight, stamp your heels into the expensive leather of his shoes, jam your knee into the sensitive between his legs, scream and yell and tell him you will never let another man take advantage of you again to help you reach your goals. Do it. Do the thing you swore you would do the next time a man like him — men who think they can take anything from anyone, men who think they own the world and the women in it, men who think you aren’t strong enough to fight back — propositioned you just like this.

You’re selling your soul to get rid of a man just like this.

But that’s coiling heat in your core that wasn’t there the last time, was it? That’s want. That’s the realization that you like the way this predatory smile feels, that you like the way this one wants you. You’re not her, not scared and alone and helpless. You could fight back and run and maybe escape if you were lucky.

You could choose.

He’s let go of your hair to stroke your cheek with the backs of his fingers, soft and sweet, You gonna give me an answer, Counsel, or am I gonna have to take it?

Say something. Say no. Scream. Say no say no say no say— Yes.

It’s a whisper. A desperate, soft whisper. A helpless, lonely whisper. It’s enough.

He sweeps you around until you’re pressed with your back against his unyielding chest, feeling him flex with every movement, broad arm wrapped around your shoulders from the front. All of you are dismissed, and that’s when you remember there were others in the room with you. Others who just watched you concede to becoming Captain America’s newest plaything and the burn on your cheeks is more shame than lust. You pull at his arm briefly, futilely, earning a tighter hold for your efforts and a whispered don’t make me choke you, before you are half-walked, half-dragged out of the dining room.

The walk to his room is slow and agonizing as you’re pulled along, barely struggling but barely helping at the same time, tears sliding down your cheeks as you come to terms with what’s going to happen next — no one is going to save you tonight, no one’s going to interrupt and drag you out, this is your job and this is your place and here you are.

No one speaks. There’s no sound but the steady tap of your heels and his shoes on fine marble. Even your sobs are silent, even your breathing is muffled, until the stairs are traversed and the faintest click of a lock turning opens the door to the rest of your life.

You made a deal.

Time to pay.

Sit on the bed.

You move as if in a trance, and he watches your face, the hint of waterproof mascara failing to do its job, the smudged ruby red of your lipstick. Don’t give me that look, you knew what you were signing up for when you walked into this house, Counsel.

His hands are gentler than you’d expect, when he wipes away the streaks your tears leave down your pretty cheeks, coaxing you to look up at him, We’ll set ground rules later. Tonight? I wanna see if I can get that mouth of yours to beg for me.

It won’t, you snap without thinking, knifeblade sharp and cruel, ready for a fight again. He promised you that once, in a hiss you thought you’d misheard but no, you heard him just fine and now if he thinks he can quench your fire and have you pleading just because you sold your body for the prospect of revenge then he’s wrong.

Thing is, he laughs like that’s a challenge, and the hand holding your chin so gently is wrapped around your throat before you know it, silencing your voice with just the right application of pressure. I can do this all night, Counsel. Do you think you can last that long?

Fear. Anger. Indignation. You are fury made flesh and he is manipulating you with just the barest press of his palm and sliding over you, until you’re laid out there on soft sheets and he’s looming over you, splaying that big hand out and sliding it down your throat, over your chest, feeling the ruching of the fabric under his palm. You wrapped yourself up like a present for me, didn’t you sweetness?

The change in nickname isn’t lost on you but here you are, glaring up at him while he smiles so beatifically it leaves your blood boiling and your skin steadily warming. The rise and fall of your chest is hypnotic, every angry breath a swear you don’t utter, every inhale your protests dying in your throat. What can you say, what would you say, right now? There’s nothing that can change the way he looks at you, or the way his eyes flicker from ice to blue fire the more he takes stock of the pretty little thing he’s about to start sharing his bed with.

Fuck, you���re beautiful, that one shocks you, but not as much as the sudden rush of cold air when he tears the emerald green fabric of your dress down and reveals the soft swells of your breasts, nipples peaked from the sudden cold.

You don’t get much time to gasp, just something soft and strangled before he turns your voice to whimpers, wrapping lips around that pebbled tip and laving his tongue over sensitive flesh. Where are your words now, Counsel, while he threatens the softness of your chest with the scrape of his teeth, when he slides his hands over the round curve of your thighs and parts your legs so he can press himself between them, so he can press himselfagainst you? Where is the knife-dagger of your wit to protest each soft, suckling kiss to your skin, each press of his fingers like he could just squeeze his ownership of you into the plushness of your hips, into the sweet swell of your ass? What do you say to the dirty little thrust of his hips as he bucks with his own burning need, reminding you just how much this is for hispleasure as he will make it for yours.

You would, could, should push him off and instead what are you doing? Curling your fingers into the silk-smooth of his comforter, desperate to writhe out of your own skin away from the burning pressure between your thighs, the foreign, unfamiliar heat you suddenly feel like you might be craving.

Anyone ever touch you like this before me, Counsel?Warm breath splays across your skin when he questions you, eyes fixed on yours and he waits. Answer him, answer him, tell him he’s nothing, tell him you’ve had better, lie and destroy that ego, lie lie lie lie—

Nnnh—no.

He looks like you’ve just told him the best news of his life, eyes wide and blown with lust, Oh is that right? You’re saying no one’s ever touched you this good? Or just no one’s ever touched you at all?

You don’t have to answer. The furious blush on your cheeks? The way your eyes slide away from his? The way you writhe, trying to press your thighs together to relieve the pressure and finding the effort futile? If the man’s grin could get any wider, it would, right now. Oh sweetness, we’re going to have so much fun exploring your body together…

He pulls back just enough to take a look at you, already flushed and writhing and overwhelmed and if he could take a picture of this right now he would. He’ll save that for later though. Tonight? Tonight is just the two of you, and his hands are back to your skirt, pushing the tight fabric up over your round hips and revealing the lace of your panties… just before he rips them off, to the sound of your indignant yelp Steve!

You’re going to call me Captain, sweetness, we’re not close enough to use my name just yet.

No. No you’re not, and he’s not sure you’ll ever be — he rather likes the idea of hearing you whimper out his title when he gets you desperate and wanting.

He touches, slow and steady, watching you try to jerk away and tutting at you when you do, fingers at your delicate nerves like an assault on your pleasure. Bite your lip, bite back the moans, whine at him like he’s wounded you, You’re so wet, sweetness, you’re so desperate for me aren’t you, as he palms his cock to relieve the pressure on himself. You’re going to beg before he does and he’s patient, he’ll last the night.

St-stop it, it’s too— he shushes you ahtahtaht and rests his free hand on your mound, holding you down so his probing, inspecting fingers can take stock of the velveteen plushness of your delicate cunt. It’s too much, too much and you want to scream the moment he presses one finger into you, already overwhelmed, already so tightly wound the barest touches are unraveling you steadily.

You’re such a pretty thing, all desperate and needy, sweetness. You wanna cum already, don’t you? So busy, never gave anyone the chance to fuck that stuck-up bitch right out of you, did they? It’s almost pitying, isn’t it, the way he talks, hums at you while you’re reduced to a whining, whimpering mess so soon, so desperate for the release he’s on the edge of denying you, feeling you flexing around his finger and then the second leaping jolt of your body when another joins the inspection. Taking careful stock of the pretty cunt he owns now, and he’s careful to curl his fingers just right as he seeks the spot to hammer just to get you to scream.

You don’t, not yet, but that’s okay too, because he sees the way you take desperate hold of the sheets, the way your eyes roll backwards just slightly, the way you strain against his heavy hand to arch your back. Gotta tell you, sweetness, I imagined you under me a thousand and one ways but this one, right now? Tops the list. You ready to beg for me?

Do it. Do it and end your pleasurable torment. Do it and be released from the pressure, the coiling want. Surrender to him. Let him have you.

The white hot rush of your orgasm is not unexpected to him, his curling, cruel fingers having found the sweetness of your g-spot, but — you, too busy climbing the ranks to think of your own pleasure, too busy demanding your due from an unjust world explore your own warmth beyond that of a memory of a college hookup you would rather forget — you left breathless and wanton in the heat of the explosion he draws out of you, mewling something desperate and pleading against your own will and the song of it fills his ears like it’s all he’s ever wanted. There it is, and I thought we’d be here all night. A thumb flickers over the nerves at your entrance and you practically jump, something between a yelp and a moan escaping your lips.

First one’s just a treat, sweetness. Now on, you cum when I say you do, understand?

You nod.

Oh you nod, and you are lost, here and now. Sensitive and broken and there is so little of that steel spine here, writhing in his sheets and ohyou don’t know the things you do to him.

Think you can go again, sweetness? He’s purring, smug, twisting fingers stretching you slowly, muttering under his breath about how fucking tight you are around his fingers, how good you’re going to feel for him, and the smugness on his face is slowly fading into a dark consternation, brows furrowed like he’s somehow angry at you for being plush and delicate and fuckable.

You’re almost begging him to stop, and yet the pressure is building again, the twisting, coiling heat that leaves you breathless and mewling and he looks like he might be trying to immortalize this moment forever. Say it, sweetness. Say you need me. Beg me for my cock.

That’s it.

That’s what you need to, you need to beg, you need to give in. No more fighting, no more arguing no more —

Please…

Please what, sweetness, come on now. You got a way with words. The snarl is so barely contained.

Please, Captain, please just…

What do you need, sweetness? The fingers are relentless, the buzz in your nerves is overwhelming, you can barely even hear yourself talk, much less him.

Please just fuck me, Captain, I need your cock! It’s hurried and it’s crude and it’s desperate and it’s exactly what he wants as just another wall crumbles and you fall off your pedestal right into his arms.

He’s barely able to resist the buck of his hips, the need to be inside you, the knowledge that you are soft and velvet and you could be all over his senses just like this.

When did he free his cock? You don’t know, you just know it’s practically salvation when he sinks into you, when he fills you like you’ve been desperate for and Oh sweetness…pours from his lips just as you hiss out something like praise right back at him.

You’re so full and he’s so gentle, at first, like you’re made of crystal in his arms, like the slow shifting of his hips might have you shattering underneath him if he’s not careful. Cradling you, even, sliding your legs around his narrow hips as he leans in and takes a hungry kiss from your wanting, whimpering mouth.

Love this look on you, all wrapped around me, whispered low and slow into your ear, sweetness you have no idea how good you look…

Melt into those compliments, melt into him, because the way he’s holding you is divine and you can feel him so deep in you it’s making your head spin. When did your arms end up around him? When did you start clinging to him like an anchor, start winding your fingers through his hair, start leaving the marks of your nails on his back to the sound of his own needy groaning?

He noses your cheek and leaves a mark of ownership on your neck with hungry lips, knowing you’ll bruise a beautiful flower right over your pulsebeat and continuing the steady assault on your nerves, cunt-first.

Harder. Faster. More.

And oh, sweetness, you do shatter.

You shatter all around him, you shatter into something divine and rapturous, full of him and filled with him and he cums so deep inside you as you do, still fucking you through your joined climax, hips rutting and breath hitching and nearly furious at you for the way his vision whites out too, the way he feels like he can Never get enough and so he hisses that at you like an accusation while his thoughts reorient back to reality, back to smugness, back to the control you took from him while he tried to strip you of yours.

In the end, as he pulls away from you and sinks to the side of you, watching your sweet expression as you return to the reality of your new situation, he is satisfied… thoroughly.

Oh yeah, I think we can make this a working relationship, Counsel.

[page150]

Not A Friend - (Sister to Oscar "Spooky" and César Díaz)

Request: "i was wondering if u could do a fic where oscar and cesar have a teen sister and she’s sexually assaulted and tells oscar??"

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3181

Warnings: Sexual Assault, Guns, Cursing

A/N: I usually don't do a author's note before the imagine, but this is a sensitive topic so if this might be triggering please click away.

Y/N - Your Name f/c - favorite color

Y/N sat quietly in her room, reading a book, illuminated by a white lamp sitting on her dresser.

Outside her brother, Oscar laughed with some men and her other brother, César had left a while ago on another adventure with his friends, leaving Y/N by herself in her room. Placing the book down, she moved the curtains away from her window. She looked at the gathering of Santos socializing in the backyard. Red solo cups in hand, dancing and eating. She remembered how Oscar had let her help decorate the backyard for the party only to be later excluded from it. Looking at him laughing with a with his arm around someone she betted that he had forgotten that she was inside.

She had gotten used to being forgotten and treated differently by people. Ever since she was born her brothers didn’t know what to do with her. Oscar had never expected to have to raise a brother by himself and especially not a sister. Even though she was only a year younger than César, Oscar's idea of keeping her safe was keeping her hidden.

She was only allowed to go straight to school then straight home, never alone either. If César or Monse weren’t going to a place neither was Y/N and that’s how it always was. She was especially not allowed to hang out with any of Oscar's friends, making life extremely lonely.

Glancing at a photo that was taped next to the window, she smiled at herself situated between Jasmine and Monse with Jamal, Ruby and César in the back. César’s friends were nice, but they were his friends not hers. He was the one invited to all their parties. He was the one they had tried to save, not her.

This left school to be the only place Y/N could socialize, but no one wanted to be friends with a girl from a gang. She was labeled dangerous before anything else, leaving her by herself. Always forgotten, and always alone.

That night she went to sleep feeling sorry for herself and woke up the same way. It continued the next few days until one day when while sitting in her algebra class, a new student was introduced. He was placed next to her and, ignoring the strange looks the class gave to him, he introduced himself.

“I’m Luke. Can I sit here?”

Y/N looked up at the blond haired boy. Her table partner had moved schools a few months ago and no one bothered to sit with her since. He looked nice, he had a nice smile and it made her want to lower her guard slightly, “Yeah, you can sit here.”

Luke sat next to her and immediately tried to start a conversation. He talked about how he moved from Florida. She noticed, as they talked more, how similar they were. They both had interesting families. He had two brothers, she had two brothers and they both lived near each other.

Y/N found herself laughing more than usual at his jokes. This led to the teacher having to stop class multiple times to scold them. Y/N never had a connection to someone like this, especially not on the first day. At lunch Luke went to sit with with her and -

“Who’s this?” César asked, suddenly sitting down at the lunch table next to his sister and wrapping an arm around her. Jamal, Ruby, and Monse also sat down. The table that previously consisted of two people quickly turned to six. Other kids nearby, eyed the two “dangerous” siblings sitting together.

Y/N rolled her eyes at the unexpected attention that was now forming. “This is Luke, he’s new.”

“Lukeee,” César trailed, “I’m Y/N’s older brother-”

“By a few months,” Y/N butted in.

“Whatever, I’m César, these are my friends Jamal, Ruby and my girl Monse.”

Monse laughed, “I’m not your girl.”

“Not yet,” César winked.

Y/N sighed and threw César’s arm off her. She turned to Elliot and apologized.

“Sorry for them.”

“No they’re cool,” Luke grinned. “Any friend of mine is my friend as well.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows, “We’re friends now? It’s only been a day.”

“Of course, you’re cool.”

With the compliment Y/N cheeks turned red. As childish as it was, having an established friendship with someone made her feel nice.

“This must be how César and Oscar feel all the time.” She thought.

“I don’t know if Oscar will like you having a friend that is a boy.” Ruby remarked. “No offense, Luke.”

“None taken.”

“Oscar doesn’t like anyone anyways.” Monse muttered, taking a bite into her sandwich.

“Don’t worry” Luke smiled, “I’m one of the good guys.”

“That’s what they all say,” Jamal said suspiciously. He leaned in close to Luke’s face and gave him some crazy faces.

“Okay, great talk guys,” Y/N said sarcastically, “I would love to chat with you more but lunch is about to end and I have to show Luke where his next class is. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah I have to go, but it was nice meeting you guys.” Luke stated, before he was dragged away by Y/N.

The next few weeks Y/N spent all her time with Luke. He sat next to her in the classes they shared, they talked at lunch and while walking home after school. They even stayed up at night so they could talk on the phone. She found herself smiling every time he talked to her. Every time he offered to carry her books. He was just so nice.

One Friday afternoon, Luke came running up to Y/N, putting her items in her backpack after her last class. He put his hands around her eyes, trying to hold back his laughter.

“Guess who?”

“Mrs. Kurt, I told you we can't see each other here.” Y/N whispered.

Luke removed his hands and his face went white. Y/N turned around and started crying with laughter. She had to sit down, her face turning bright red as she continued to laugh, gasping for air.

“I don’t even want to think about you dating my mom.” He trembled, before returning to his cheerful self. “Stop laughing, I have important news. There’s a party tonight and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me.”

Y/N stopped laughing and thought about it before responding. “I don’t know. I don’t think Oscar would want me to. You know how he is about stuff like that.”

Luke smiled and picked her backpack off the floor. He then put out his hand and helped Y/N to her feet.

“Which is why César and his friends already said they are coming too. Oscar doesn’t have to know you're going as my date.”

“Your date?”

“If you want to be. I want you to be my date.”

Y/N smiled, a pink blush covering her cheeks. “I can be your date.”

“Great,” He took her hand and began to lead her out of the classroom. “It’s going to be amazing, don't worry.”

That night Y/N drank water out of a red solo cup, while sitting on the couch of a kid she had never met before. This time she was the one laughing and partying. Colors flashed around the room as more and more kids came into the house. The air was foggy with smoke and smelt like a mash of perfumes and colognes. Y/N nodded her head to the music enjoying the energy in the room.

To her surprise Luke pulled her up to dance with him. She giggled feeling his hands go around her waist. She put her arms around his neck just like she saw in the movies. Rap was blasting out of speakers placed on the ground. Somewhere someone joked about getting a noise compliment to which the crowd began shouting the rap lyrics louder. Taunting the idea, almost hoping for it so the party could gain extra excitement. Y/N shouted along with them in bliss. Ignoring the past fear she had felt once she noticed César had left. Ignoring the looks she had gotten when she first walked in the party. Ignoring how Luke had moved his hands past the dip in her back...

When she felt his hands squeeze her butt she whispered for him to stop which he did, but she still felt weird. A sinking feeling sat in her gut that this was a mistake. Suddenly the small action made the party feel like too much now. She could smell the stink of alcohol on Luke’s breath and weirdly on herself as well. How did she get drunk?

Y/N moved from Luke to where she had placed her cup. Now she could see scribbled on with a black sharpie, someone else’s name. She must have grabbed the wrong cup sometime during the party. Swaying slightly, she moved back toward Luke.

“I need to go home,” She hiccuped. “I drank someone's drink.”

In the darkness she didn’t see Luke’s small smile. “Wow, I’m sorry. Let’s get you home.”

The two exited the party and began to walk home. Y/N felt more tipsy as she walked, eventually having to lean on the blond boy. She didn’t feel really drunk, she could still tell what was happening, it was just her body felt a little out of balance. Luke seemed the same way, but before they reached Y/N house he grabbed her hips. The sudden movement left her in shock.

“You looked really nice tonight, babe.” He said, pulling her into a kiss as he ran his hands on her back, slowly moving lower onto her butt, then up to her breasts.

Immediately Y/N pushed Luke off of her, moving to wrap her arms around herself. “What the hell? I’m a Santo, pull that shit again and it's over” She yelled, backing away from Luke.

“Like you would, I’m the only one who cares enough to pay attention to you. Do you really think anyone else wants to be around you? I’ll do whatever I want. You would be an idiot to lose me.” He fumed.

Y/N froze. Luke had never acted like that before. He couldn’t truly mean what he was saying. She ran into her house and locked the door behind her. She waited a few minutes to check that he had left, which he did.

After her shower she convinced herself that Luke must have been really drunk. That’s why he acted that way, but on Monday he proved that that was not the case.

At the beginning of algebra it started off okay. Luke kept his eyes on the board and focused on his work. It was okay up to the point where he started rubbing on Y/N's leg. She told him to stop but he ignored her. First rubbing small circles on her knee. Then moving up to her thigh moving closer and closer upwards. No matter how many times she moved his hand he kept putting it back. Eventually she had to stay quiet out of fear of distracting the class, but he kept going. She begged silently for it to stop. Suddenly feeling powerless as he continued to do as he pleased for more days.

At lunch even though Luke continued to joke with César she started to go silent. It was a constant internal battle. If she pushed Luke away more, it would cause her to lose her only friend. If she didn’t she would continue to feel uncomfortable. She told herself it would stop eventually, that things would go back to normal, but they didn’t.

As more days went by Luke tried to do more things. The more he tried to do the quieter Y/N got. But luckily César began to notice. He noticed that Y/N wanted him to sit between her and Luke more. How she stopped laughing at his jokes and how Luke changed his tone when talking to her. It wasn’t always playful like it used to be.

Even though César wasn’t really close to his sister he acknowledged that they had to look out for each other. Y/N had been the one to get Oscar to let him back in the house many times. She looked out for him, and he had to look out for her.

Which is why when César and Monse accidentally walked in on Luke kissing her in an empty classroom while she tried to push him off, he freaked out.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He shouted, pulling Luke off of her and close to his face by the collar of his shirt. “I'm Lil’ Spooky I’ll have your face in the dirt if you do that shit again.”

“César, stop what are you doing here. You’re going to hurt him.” Y/N yelled. Monse gently pulled her away from Luke, but she pushed Monse back.

César punched Luke in the eye and he fell down, crumbling into a fetal position. César continued to kick him in the stomach until Y/N pulled him away.

“You’re hurting him! You can’t do this here! César stop please!”

César turned and grabbed Y/N's arm. He led her out of the classroom and out of the school with Monse trailing after them. Y/N’s items in hand.

“I can’t believe he was on you like that. Shit, Y/N. Wait, don't cry, don’t cry, it's okay.”

Y/N hadn’t realized she was crying until he said that. Tears were falling rapidly down her cheeks. She choked back sobs, trying to keep herself somewhat together.

She was thankful for César stopping it, but afraid for what would happen next. Once they reached their house César guided her up the stairs and inside where Oscar was smoking a cigarette at the dinner table. Hearing the door burst open and crying he instantly got up. He reached for his gun, but seeing that it was his siblings he stopped.

“Shit, what the hell happened César. Why is she crying?”

“Tell him,” César said softly. Monse ran in and went to Y/N’s side pulling her into a hug.

“Tell me what. Why are you crying?”

“He 's not mad at you hermana. Él va a ayudar.”

Y/N sniffled and buried herself into Monse’s shoulder. Trying to hide her embarrassment she whispered, “My friend at school was touching me in a weird way, Oscar. He wouldn’t stop. I told him to stop, though. I did. Please, don’t be mad at me.”

“We’re not mad at you and he’s not a friend anymore, Y/N. That should’ve never happened to you.” Monse murmured.

The room went silent. Monse still slowly rubbed Y/N’s back and César stood tense. Oscar looked from César to Y/N.

“César, do you think he left school yet?”

“Uh yeah, school ended right after I pulled her out.”

“Come on,” Oscar grabbed his gun and began to walk out the door, César following after. Y/N ran after Oscar begging for him to stop.

“Don’t Oscar, don’t hurt hm. He’s my only friend. He’s a kid, it was just a mistake.”

“No no!” He shouted. Oscar turned and placed his hands on Y/N’s shoulder’s. Looking into her teary eyes.

“It’s not your fault. It’s never your fault hermana. My job is to keep you safe. I've failed at a lot of things, but I refuse to fail at that again. Get in the house and rest. He just needs to be taught a lesson. Stay with Monse. Te amo como una hija bebé espeluznante.”

He left with César, leaving Y/N on the lawn. Monse guided her back into the house. She remembered what her dad did whenever she was going through a lot. She treated Y/N the same way. Reassuring her that it will be okay. That it wasn’t her fault.

César and Oscar didn’t come back until later that night.

“We got you this,” Oscar muttered, walking into the house and tossing a stuffed bear to Y/N. “We saw the idea online.” It was a f/c bear with a heart on it that said ‘Te Quiero’ with little messages César and Oscar wrote on the back. There weren't a lot, but the few ones there were were heartfelt.

“Thank you, I love it” Y/N smiled, holding the bear close. Her eyes were still slightly red from crying.

“And pizza,” César quietly cheered. On his face was a bandage, but he moved his face so Y/N couldn’t see it. “Monse do you want to spend the night?”

Monse looked at Y/N, “Yeah I already have clothes here so I’ll stay,”

She picked up a slice of pizza. “Soo, what did you guys do?”

“We took care of it,” Oscar said, sitting on the couch next to Y/N. “He won’t mess with you again. If I didn’t have a reputation I would’ve reported it.” He lowered his voice. “You can always go to us Y/N, we’re going to protect you. If that cabrón messes with you again I’m coming for him. ”

“I know,” Y/N mumbled. “I just wanted a friend, how dumb is that.”

“You can always hang out with us,” Monse added, “We’re your friends. We love having you around.”

Y/N sighed, “I mean my own friend. I love you guys too, but it gets so lonely. No one at school wants to be near me. Soy un marginado.”

The room went silent again. Before Monse spoke up, “You know you’re really smart Y/N. There’s a school in BrentWood that might offer you a scholarship to go there. I know you could pass the entrance exam. ”

“I could get a job for the tuition,” César added, rising from his seat at the dinner table. “Oscar what do you think? You’ve been making more money lately. It would keep her safe. She is really smart.”

Oscar looked at the ceiling, a good sign that he was thinking about the idea. Y/N kept her mouth shut, trying not to get too excited.

“How would she get there?”

“It’s a long bus ride,” Monse remarked, “But it’s safe. Only a bunch of rich kids. Most of them will be nice to you, Y/N. You’re smart, you’re funny, and you’re strong. Not a lot of them are like that there. No one will know who you're related to. I can get my mom to help get you in.”

César, Monse, and Y/N looked at Oscar. He took a deep breath and released it. Pulling a cigarette out his pocket, he lit it. Breathing deep he puffed out the smoke.

“I failed you today as a hermano, if I can keep you safe I will. I’ll work on getting you there.”

Y/N smiled and hugged Oscar, feeling César join as well.

“Thank you Oscar. Thank you Cesar. Thank you Monse. I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah” Oscar grinned. “Get off me I’m going to bed. I think I’ll go to the beach tomorrow. Want to come?”

“Yes!”

Author's Note: My DMs are always open to anyone who needs it. I am also on twitter to anyone who wants to talk @/thepage150. Requests are open. You are important. You are valued. You are loved. Have a wonderful day ~c'k

[papipopsicle]

AFTERTASTE PART SEVEN

Pairing: Archie Andrews X Reader

Summary: In which two best friends since childhood test whether sex and friendship can co-exist without causing conflict. Including OC's Flick and Cherry, a bisexual and lesbian in a sapphic relationship who are best friends of Y/N.

Song: Dream Boy by Waterparks

Warnings: swearing

Words: 2.1K

MASTERLIST

feedback is always appreciated

Y/F and Y/M Robins were far from perfect parents. Y/F had the mental age of a toddler at times, and being an estate agent who always has to go the extra mile- he often wasn't home when his wife needed him the most. Y/M, on the other end of things, had been a stay at home mum until Y/N turned 16 last summer, and now she helped with all the administrative work for Mayor McCoy. She was a maternal creature which, coupled with her brilliant sarcasm, made for some explosive conversations. The two met on the first day of university and got married a week after the last.

When Y/M first found out she was pregnant with little Y/S Robins, the two realised they wanted a quiet bubble of a town to raise their children and grow up with them. But it wasn't until their second daughter was about to turn seven until they found their forever home in the quaint town of Riverdale. Ten years passing before their eyes, and the picturesque place didn't seen all that anymore.

Jason Blossom's death had nothing to do with the short gunshot sounding over the waves of Sweetwater River, the noise which woke Y/N from her sweet unmemorable dreams every few nights. The summer days rolled into early August without anyone caring, Y/N spending most of them at Cheryl's side listening intently to her past adventures with her brother. Betty threw herself into an internship at a publication house; Flick and Cherry had volunteered at a summer camp, and Archie was helping his dad out more and more with constructions job.

Although it hadn't been the start to the relationship Y/N had hoped for- the nervous giggles and hand holding, short and sweet kisses on late night walks followed by poetry worthy cuddling. There was a magnificent silver lining as Archie's muscles gained definition, and he suited the sweaty builder look far too well.

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y/n Humph!

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Cheryl busy being my own icon

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"Earth to my gorgeous queen? Y/N/N?" Cheryl quizzed her friend, who currently resided at the poolside of Thornehill Manor. Her mind was off on a glorious tangent about her rendezvous in the kitchen at two in the morning. Fixing herself a glass of water, when Archie slips his hand into her pyjama shorts, his other around her mouth muffling her needy moans.

The red headed beauty shoved her y/h/c friend playfully, warm skin sweaty under her pale touch. Y/N blinked innocently and sent her an apologetic smile, "What?"

"I asked if you've thought about dating anyone else since Clayton?" The fiery ginger girl enquired with her usual upbeat tone.

Cheryl knew she had a unique quality about her which made it almost impossible for Y/N to lie to her face. The y/h/c girl scrunched up her nose, hiding the smile the idea of Archie Andrews brought to her face. 'Yes. We started off as fuck buddies but never actually fucked. Then I drunkenly asked him to be my boyfriend, now a month later I think we may genuinely work out.'

"Maybe." Y/N bit her bottom lip, listening to her friend's squeal as she squeezed her sun tanned arm.

"I knew it! You have this euphoric glow you only get when someone else makes you climax." The redhead affirmed confidently, watching the Robins girl's eyes bug out before hitting her arm, "Y/N/N, you know your secret's safe with me."

"Fine." She sighed and took a sip of her fruity cocktail, "It started off as just fooling around, honestly I just needed to let off some steam after everything. I knew he was into the kinds of things I was, I mean he used to tease me about it non stop. And it was good, so good I stopped being a pussy and asked him to be my boyfriend."

"Holy freaking hell!" The Blossom girl grinned with excitement, "Dare I ask, who is it?"

Y/N deadpanned at her friend, "Guess."

"Please don't tell me it's that muscular oaf Reggie, he's pretty but there's not exactly much going on upstairs." Cheryl tapped her temples and rolled her eyes at the thought.

"Nope."

The ginger thought for a moment, consulting her liquid courage and splashing her feet around the waters edge, "It's Archie."

All it took was a side-eyed glance at the y/h/c girl's blooming rosy cheeks to know she definitely wasn't wrong. Y/N severely lacked the ability to lie, even if her tone held conviction, her features were far too expressive and told the truth all on their own. It's not like they were hiding it from anyone, but the past four weeks had gone far too quickly without any moments to spare for the world around them. They slept together each night, the majority of that time not actually spent sleeping, but they hadn't been given the chance yet to explore more romantic avenues.

"It's fucking Archie Andrews- you're fucking Archie Andrews and don't you dare deny it." Cheryl gawked in her gorgeous white and nude bikini, watching as her friend lay back against the hot marble slabs which encased the large pool with the largest grin adorning her plump lips.

"We haven't had sex yet, so technically you aren't completely correct." Y/N winked but carried on before the girl exploded with a hundred questions and could never be turned off, "Trust me, I want to, and I'm sure he does too. But you know, it's his first time, I want it to be perfect for him."

"Y/N/N, you really love him, don't you?" Cheryl gagged to begin with, but she found it sweet in truth. She wanted someone to hold, who would hold her right back just as tight for no other reason than needing to.

Y/N sat back up and paddled her feet, "You have no idea, Cher."

Arch 🧡

That new post should be illegal

Tiger 💛

Ooo

I like this reaction

Maybe I should post more

Like this one

Cheryl pushed me in the pool

And I may have had a drink

Or three

Arch 🧡

Well that's sexy

I swear nobody looks good like that how on earth

You're a goddess

But also

How's she holding up?

Tiger 💛

🥺😇

Broken

But she's strong yk

You coming over for dinner?

Arch 🧡

Yeah Y/D invited my dad too

Need me to pick you up from Cheryl's?

Tiger 💛

Awe cute we love a bromance, and it's all good my mommas coming now anyways :))

Hours had elapsed far too fast and soon the summer heat simmered into cool waves of wind brushing over sun kissed skin. Cheryl's arms were clasped around the blonde's shoulders in a tight embrace.

"Thank you so much, Y/N/N, I don't know what I'd do without you!" The Blossom girl professed with sparkling eyes and a brilliant smile.

Y/N beamed up at her, fingers carding through her damp y/h/c hair as she looked over her shoulder to see her mum pulling into the driveway, "You don't need to thank me, Cher, friends look after each other. Message me if you need me, okay?"

Cheryl promised she would and the two teen girls hugged goodbye, with Y/N soon heading home- listening to her mother gossip about Hal and Alice's screaming match last night, Y/N loved her inability to keep her mouth shut sometimes.

"Mom," The y/h/c stopped her mid sentence and received a side eyed glance in response, "I need to tell you something and you're totally not allowed to freak out while you're driving."

Y/M's eyes widened and her grip tightened around the steering wheel, her daughters very rarely confided in her. While she knew her youngest was safe in her promiscuity, neither of Y/M Robins' girls ever shared their secrets so for the most part she took finding out into her own hands.

"Honey," The forty four year old's calm tone was hardly comforting to the teenager, "if this is about you and Archie fooling around, your father and I figured that out a long time ago, like so long ago. Who do you think does your laundry? When your underwear starting looking like dental floss, we caught on pretty quickly."

Y/N felt like a deer in headlights, "Mum, what the hell?" Her cheeks heated to an inhuman temperature.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, as long as you're being safe and he's-"

"For the second time today, and I can't believe I'm saying this to you, but I am not having sex with Archie Andrews!" Y/N's high pitched voice sounded through the car. It truly was a blessing and a curse to have such open minded parents in situations like this. She thought about telling her mother the truth, but Y/M was a blabber mouth as well as a gossip, so Y/N chose to withhold certain pieces of information.

The Robins matriarch dropped the subject but didn't forget about her daughter's tone, and continued to ramble on about how odd she found Penelope Blossom and the whole Blossom family in general. "Like why on Earth is Rose in a wooden wheelchair? They know it's the twenty first century, right?"

As expected, the Robins household was once again filled with warm laughter and copious amounts of food. The topic of Jason was skimmed over, and Y/S found herself away from the dinner table. The eldest Robins sibling was currently pleading with Alice as she began shoving all of Polly's belongings in the boot of Hal's car. She couldn't comprehend life without her best friend, not after losing Jason. They were meant to be going travelling together for a year- working the worst jobs and staying up all night to watch the sun rise in different countries. But instead, Y/S's eyes were blinded by tears as she screamed down the street at the speeding car, with Polly Cooper taken out of her life indefinitely.

Y/N was oblivious to the dark inner workings of the Cooper clan, Betty's knowledge about her and Archie unbeknownst to the loved up teens. She'd spent every second not occupied by her internship trying to justify the romantic act as a fleeting moment of loneliness fuelled by alcohol. She wrote in her diary ideas on how she could win Archie back over, not knowing it was in fact, too late. Betty found herself hopelessly in love with the boy next door, unfortunately for her, the girl across the road was the only one his mind found.

Archie and Y/N washed up while their parents resided to the living room with three glasses and a bottle of white wine. The short girl turned the tap off after placing the last utensil on the draining board, flicking her sudsy hands at the boy's face. "What the-"

She didn't give him a chance to finish that thought, jumping up and wrapping her legs around his torso- planting a kiss onto his lips, then cheeks, then forehead. The two fell entranced by each other, planting pecks across nape of her neck and top of his head.

"Son," Fred's voice called out from the next room and the two immediately pulled apart, hearts beating in their ears, "we're going in a minute."

"Alright." He replied, placing his girlfriend on the floor once more.

"I wish you'd stay." Y/N pouted childishly, she meant the words entirely but hated feeling overbearing. Her life had been turned upside down this summer, it started off with her unable to fall asleep with another person next to her- now Archie's chest was her most comfortable pillow and is arms were the warmest blanket.

"Tomorrow night instead, Princess? I promised my dad I'd spend more time with him before senior year." The boy reasoned, holding her close and unknowingly feeling the exact same way, he adored holding her by her waist and pulling her close under the duvet.

"Monopoly night at yours?" She grinned and he nodded back in reply, the two sharing a final kiss in the kitchen before walking into the hallway.

Y/N felt at ease as she wished the two a goodnight and headed up to bed. She took off her tea dress and replaced it with Archie's bulldog t-shirt, managing to reach the same length on her thighs as her dress did.

Arch 🧡

I can still smell your perfume on my sheets

Tiger 💛

Marking my territory obviously x

Arch 🧡

I love it

Hope you sleep well baby x

Tiger 💛

Call me that tomorrow and we won't be sleeping so you better rest up tonight x

Arch 🧡

Whatever you say, baby x

Tiger 💛

Goodnight x

Arch 🧡

Night princess x

part eight?

wanna be tagged? just send in an ask x

[weasleylangs]

lightweight - g.w

Pairing: George x Fem!Reader Summary: Y/N’s never been the best at holding her alcohol. Luckily, George is always there to help her. Warnings: Alcohol, a drunk confession, fluff, brief mentions of underage drinking, one line about throwing up. Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Short Georgie fic today! I have work so I didn’t want to commit to any of my super long ideas but I still want to keep writing! Also, I’m not promoting excessive drinking whatsoever. As always, constructive criticism is appreciated and requests are open!

This is also being posted while I’m asleep because I’m stuck on the other side of the world to the rest of you. Any asks will be replied too when I’m up!

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

George stands in a corner of the Leaky Cauldron, firewhiskey in hand as he looks at the crowd. Their yearly reunion has been going on for a few hours now, and George has finally started to feel the alcohol buzzing around his head. Despite having already downed quite a few whiskeys, he’s barely been feeling it all night considering he’s always been a heavyweight, given his large stature.

The same can’t be said for the girl George’s eyes are trained on. Y/N Y/L/N. She’s currently dancing with Angelina Johnson, the rosiness in her cheeks evident from both the exertion from dancing for hours on end and the alcohol in her system. George has fond memories of Gryffindor parties, when Fred, Lee and himself would flirt their way into buying alcohol from Madam Rosmerta to sneak into parties that would eventually end with the girl he’s watching dancing her heart out.

“Babysitting already, mate?” Lee asks as he takes a swig of his beer and George chuckles, shaking his head. “No, not quite yet. I probably will be in, say…” He checks his watch and the time reads 1am, “... half an hour.” 

George developed a habit when they were sixteen, of looking after Y/N at parties. The girl never seemed to learn her own limits and more often than not, drank herself stupid at parties. Y/N was one of George’s best friends, and he’d never forgive himself if he ever let her get hurt at a party, so he happily settled for basking in the party atmosphere while keeping a close eye on Y/N. And then, in the morning he’d tease her while she threw up the contents of her stomach and she’d apologise profusely before they’d walk to breakfast together.

It’s been 10 years and they’re still dancing and drinking and George is still looking after her, but instead of walking her up to her dorm, George drags her back to his apartment above Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and tucks her into his bed while he takes the couch. Granted, Y/N’s has developed some better limits than when she was sixteen years old, but it’s a force of habit at this point, and besides, George rather looks forward to it nowadays and his night would feel incomplete without knowing Y/N is 100% safe and sound 100 meters away from him. 

Fred approaches them, and they aimlessly stand around and chat. Mostly about quidditch, very rarely about work. These days, the hot topic of conversation is about how Lee’s been splitting his time between London helping the twins out with the shop and Romania, where his dragon trainer girlfriend lives. Sometimes, a few people approach them and ask the question if they’re the ‘famous Ginny Weasley’s twin brothers’ which always causes them to laugh and their chests swell in pride for their little sister. 

It’s probably only twenty minutes later when he hears a squeal come from the dance floor as some muggle band’s song comes on. George thinks Y/N probably convinced Tom to let her hijack the music and he vaguely recognises the song as one she’s played before. He searches the dance floor for her, and when their eyes meet she winks at him and quickly spins around to dance with Angelina again.

“I can’t believe she’s not even your girlfriend and you practically babysit her, mate. We’re 26, when are you making a move?” Fred teases but George ignores him. He notices Y/N catch his eye again and when she goes to wave him over, he sees her wobble slightly and her eyes widen out of fear of losing her balance. 

Truthfully, George is too scared to admit his feelings for Y/N. While he knows their friendship entails more than what a normal one does, George has never been the best at reading signs when people are romantically interested in him so he well and truly does not know where he stands with Y/N. He never wants to make people feel uncomfortable, so he lives blissfully unaware until someone yells in his face they’re interested in him. 

“Piss off, Fred. Like you can talk about me not making a move. You’ve liked Angelina since what? Sixth year?” He pushes Fred slightly at the shoulders as he scowls and slowly makes his way over the tiny girl in his sights. 

“Hi Georgie,” she slurs as he finally makes his way over to her and she’s quick to slot herself into his side. George is well aware Y/N is both a sleepy and clumsy drunk the second she stops dancing, and as George checks the time on his watch again, it now reads 1:30am and it’s well past intoxicated Y/N’s bedtime. 

“Hi, love,” he can’t help but use the nickname for her, especially when her cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red when he uses it, “time to get you to bed?” 

She pretends to think for a second but George knows she’s all danced out when she sighs and tucks her head into his neck. He spots Lee and Fred, who are now imitating whips at him, and shakes his head as he waves goodbye. He makes sure to tell Angelina, Katie and Alicia they’re leaving as well so they don’t worry, and George pretends to miss the giggles and winks they give Y/N as he holds onto her. 

Thankfully, the Leaky Cauldron isn’t far from 93 Diagon Alley and soon enough George is placing Y/N in his bed and finding a change of clothes for her. It’s the middle of November, so he grabs a random old sweater his mum knitted him a few years back and while he looks for the pair of leggings she left here last time, he hears her soft gasp. 

When he turns to look at her, her eyes are fixated on the sweater in his hand. “That one’s my favourite.” 

George has a million sweaters, enough to fill a whole drawer full of them all in different colours, so he’s confused how Y/N knows which one this even is. 

“It’s the one with the frayed hand-holes, right?” George laughs at her usage of ‘hand-holes’ and unfolds the sweater to take a look at the sleeves, and sure enough, right where your hands pop out, the sleeves is fraying. 

“Why is this one your favourite, darling?” He questions, passing her the sweater. He turns his back to her, giving her some privacy as she takes her top off and she hums happily as the scent of George engulfs her senses. “It’s one of your oldest ones. So the Georgie-scent is the strongest.” 

George feels his cheeks heat up as Y/N slips the leggings up under her skirt and then struggles to undo her buttons. “Georgie-scent?” 

She hums in agreement as she finally gets the skirt off and drops it on the floor next to her. She’s curling herself up under the blankets when she looks at George and before her sober thoughts can catch them, drunk words are tumbling out of her mouth, “Reminds me the most of my Amortentia.” 

George pauses and stares at her, processing the words she just said. George only received three O.W.L’s during his time at Hogwarts and none of them were potions, but of course, he’s well aware what Amortentia is. He sells them at work, after all.

The most powerful love potion in the world.

“Firework smoke, Molly’s home-cooked meals and… Alcohol.” She mumbles when George doesn’t speak and she looks like she’s fallen asleep but George knows she isn’t. 

“Sure it isn’t Fred, love?” He laughs as he asks but his insecurities are there, shoved way down into the pit of his stomach, threatening to spill out. Firework smoke and his mum’s home-cooked meals scream both of them without a doubt, and George can’t help but convince himself that Fred could definitely have an explanation for the alcohol. 

Now she’s realised what she’s said, and she takes one look at George and she shoves her head into the pillow. “God, this isn’t how I was planning to tell you.” She’d actually never planned on telling him, convinced someone as perfect as George Weasley would ever love her back, but her brain had other plans.

“Tell me that you like my brother?” He jokingly questions, the insecurities fading but still feeling the need to tease her. When she laughs and rolls her eyes, George knows he’s calmed her down from a perch she didn’t realise she was on. She sits up quickly and her face looks a little green at first for how quick she moves. “Who looks after me when I’m drunk, George? I don’t see Fred anywhere.” She’s smirking now and George has to resist the urge to crawl into bed with her and kiss her senseless. 

“My Amortentia smells like you as well, by the way.” The smile Y/N gives him is bright enough it could light up the City of London. “Really?” she questions, and the way she sways in bed George can tell she’s still intoxicated and he can only hope she remembers this conversation in the morning because he knows he won’t be brave enough to initiate it again. 

“Really. Sunflowers, chocolate and…” He hesitates, laughing at how dumb they both are, “Firewhiskey.”

She screeches in embarrassment and before he knows it, Y/N’s dragging him into his bed and she’s giggling. “That’s so embarrassing!” she exclaims, “But so expected.” 

They roll around in the sheets for a few seconds, trying to grab at each other and laughing at the coincidences before George gets up and changes. Y/N watches him intently, trying her best not to objectify him in her mind but he’s just so damn gorgeous she can’t help it. She wants to kiss every inch of his skin and let everyone know the wonderful man standing in front of her is her's.

And when he goes to slip out of the room, thinking she’s fallen asleep, she pouts and clears her throat, causing him to turn and face her.

“You. Me. Bed. Cuddling. Now.” She says, nay demands and he has no choice. He slips into bed beside her and once again, for the second time that night, she’s slotted herself next to him. 

“I really do love you, you know.” She mutters against his neck and she feels his breath hitch. “I’m not just saying it because I was drunk. I mean, like I said it because I was drunk, but it’s true.”

George pauses, not wanting to upset her with what he says next, “Are you going to remember in the morning?” He’s trying not to let his fear be known, but with how close Y/N is, he knows she felt his body react subconsciously. Y/N’s had nights when she doesn’t remember anything she’s said- not because she’s drunk too much, but she’s naturally a forgetful person and the alcohol doesn’t help. 

“Of course, and if I don’t because I don’t remember tonight… I’d hope you’d tell me.” She reassures him, looking up at him and pressing a soft kiss to his chin from her position in his arms. 

George lets out a breath and looks at the girl in his arms and decides that he can’t keep it to himself anymore and that he’d shout it from every rooftop that he’s in love with Y/N Y/L/N. So he presses a kiss to her forehead, next, her nose, then her cheeks and lastly, a soft kiss on her lips.

“I promise I will. You and me forever.” 

[yinses]

college au! headcanons

gojo satoru, geto suguru & nanami kento

rqst: college au for nanami, geto and gojo?

a/n: so i divided it into three categories to help keep my head straight. honestly almost straight kicked gojo out of college bc i couldn’t decide on a major for him. the jjk discord server is heaven sent for my sanity. ty everyone again 🌺

last time i should have to post these. hoping everything is fine now. 

gojo satoru

MAJOR

—he starts off undecided for a long time. the fact that he’s on scholarship allows him to be more flexible with his classes given that he’s not responsible for costs. he grew up with expectations from his family but university is suppose to be his opportunity to spread his own wings and grow from his experiences.

—so he tries a bit of everything- sciences, music and social studies- anything to prompt a spark. (took a business class once and made a point to sit next to nanami everyday just to annoy him) by his second year he’s getting as frustrated as his counselor because if he doesn’t decide soon he’ll be a potential 5th year senior.

—he’s overthinking it but gojo wants to invest in what he believes will make the most significant impact to his ability. his counselor takes those crumbs and runs with it.

—he gets steered towards political science and actually excels at it (that advisor gets a raise). surprises most of the class with his analytical skills because they thought he was just a pretty boy- surprise he’s beautiful and smart.

—develops a vested interest in governmental policies. might run for president one day idk. brings donuts to his early am class. doesn’t share.

SOCIAL

—he’s not the jock per say, but as the star athlete of the basketball team, the school likes to take advantage of his image to draw in sponsors.

—his face is plastered all over the auditorium whether they’re in season or not. sometimes it’s not even to promote basketball, gojo is pretty and they’re not afraid to use it. which also makes him one of the most recognizable faces on campus.

—due to his student athlete contract, he’s not allowed to sign autographs freely in the event they’re attempted to be sold as quick cash. but yikes, he can barely walk to class without someone stopping him for a picture. to the best of his ability he tries to laugh it off, poster boy image and all, but it gets pretty fucking old and annoying quickly. especially when it makes him late for his next lesson and the instructor shows no sympathy.

—his height didn’t only help him get into basketball, but its also convenient when it comes to shouldering politely through the student masses. his golden rule is don’t make eye contact. the busier the crowds the easier it is for him to pretend like he could’t possibly have heard them.

—gojo doesnt scout fraternities, fraternities scout him. but he’s not interested in the slightest. as an athlete he already gets into any social circle he wants without the additional effort. that and he doesnt think he could tolerate an alpha male trying to exert his dominance without barking back.

—loves to show up to parties but always arrives late enough to the point where they don’t think he’s coming. it helps him slip in when he wants too. he’s a connoisseur of all alcohol varieties and a master of beer bong. he’s not necessarily the life of the party but his presence is kind of hard to miss.

RELATIONSHIPS

—he gets too much attention to date casually. most potential suitors are in it more for the benefits they receive than him anyway. he’s got enough on his plate with career indecisiveness and games to try to pursue anything serious before third year.

—he’s not completely celibate though. he tries to keep the same partners as long as he can. not only to keep himself clean and safe but because he often goes into an agreement to keep it casual. sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. either way he gets coined as a ‘heartbreaker’ before the end of his freshman year. frankly the rumors obscure most of the truth and give him more freedom. people always expect that he’s with someone even when he’s not, which helps keep his invasive teammates off his back.

—gojo can easily graduate without securing something tangible but there is still a window for potential.

—you’re both his consistent classmate and occasional friends with benefits. its the former title that keeps bringing him back around. he cant exactly avoid you without subjecting himself to 8am classes. it helps that the sex is good too.

—he can text you an offer to study together for the next test and roll over after an hour and wreck you for the rest of the week. its hard to tell who gets addicted first but he does appreciate the way your skin looks when youre wearing his marks.

geto suguru

MAJOR

—he’s a STEM kid, particularly interested in bio-genetics to improve overall health. he believes that simply becoming a physician just keeps the issue at bay and his goal is to eradicate the problem at its source.

—since high school he’s been cataloging different programs across the country before deciding what he wanted and putting all his efforts into it. so it’s no surprise when he gets in.

—geto doesn’t need counselors but they’re required so he listens to them prattle on about using university as an opportunity to explore. this man came in with more college credits than most sophomores, he knows what he wants.

—always on-time to class and never misses an assignment. also that kid who goes above and beyond, even on the simple stuff. he rarely gets teased about it, not even behind his back. geto straight up scares some people even when he’s smiling.

—not afraid to correct teachers when they’re wrong. in fact he lives for it.

—he’s the one who graduated early and starts his master’s program before most of his age group declare their own majors.

SOCIAL

—he tends to frequent the same circles- handpicking his acquaintances out of class rosters, clubs and honor lists. he’s less in it for the friendship and more so to scout for potential research partners.

—met gojo in one of his science electives and literally carried him through the class. they somehow end up friends but only really hang out at each other’s places- bunch of chill movie nights and pizza.

—there is no interest in fraternities, but he does join university funded clubs that allow him to further his research. they give him unique access to labs, take him on trips to different conventions and have an alumni list a kilometer long for future collaborations.

—the man does not party but he will occasionally slip into quieter bars to ease some of his frustrations. he actually enjoys karaoke thursdays , not to sing for himself but the drunken antics of others bring him some amusement.

—smokes weed occasionally, but only his own product. it helps him relaxand fan out the stress. he never sells it but sometimes gojo nicks some of his stash. given that he gets drug tested often, geto doesn’t know how the athlete never gets caught.

RELATIONSHIPS

—not interested in seeking out relationships in the slightest. the man has a plan and he’s already married to it.

—he’s not completely immune to sexual advances though and occasionally splurges but none of the friends with benefits crap. he’ll hit it once and stay celibate for the rest of the year easily.

—you might be able to squeeze in as his fellow lab partner. remain invested in the work and not him and he’ll start noticing the little details of your company- the way you subtle perfume lingers on his lab coat hours after you’ve adorned for the day, how he knows you have to keep your hair up for safety precautions but he thinks about running his fingers through it daily and your mind, damn, he wonders what else you can come up with when he has you laid out on his sheets.

—if he’s interested, geto won’t hesitate to broach the topic. he’ll ask you out for coffee and when you try to bring up research he’ll be upfront about his attraction. ultimately if you start dating the two of you are an absolute unit- not that you weren’t before.

—you’re the one variable he didn’t plan for but he’s glad to have added you to the equation.

nanami kento

MAJOR

—he was made for the business world, brought by a CEO who raised him to inherit the company. administration major marketing minor.

—takes initiative in all his classes and is often coined as group leader for projects. mostly keeps to himself  and only speaks up when prompted or disagrees with something.

—he takes the earliest sessions possible because it means less people more often than not. doesn’t really care if its in the front, middle or back but always sits near the edge.

—doesn’t really want to but it looks good on his resume so he joins the marketing team where they present mock business plans for competitions. they win a lot. nanami honestly doesn’t care. but again it looks good.

—it only took him a brief summer internship to learn that he found nothing satisfying about board meetings and macro management.

—he decides to invest in law school to handle the company from a legal standpoint instead.

SOCIAL

— sort of like geto, only wants to make friends on a need be basis.

—he would rather keep to himself but knows the benefits of socializing so he interacts with his frequent classmates when he can- through study groups or car pooling to seminars.

—he does join a fraternity, its the same one his father did (and uncles, cousins, whatnot. its a generational thing). its geared towards bettering future leaders. they focus building resumes, charity events and run the organization like a proper business. nanami gets elected president by his third year and runs two terms.

—the only parties he attends are networking events- full of wine and fancy horderves. wine is plentiful but he’s always nursing a scotch on top of his headache. if one more person squeezes their stocks into a conversation he’s going to personally take down the whole market

—zero interest in college party life. spends some of his downtime at the campus theater watching old time movies and classic plays.

—he’s the coffee shop hoe. he wakes up early sometimes just to sit by the window and read some casual literature. has his own thermo that gives him free refills to cart to class. do not talk to this man before he’s had his caffeine.

RELATIONSHIP

—he probably has a high school sweetheart that he’s still clinging too, whether on the same campus or long distance. it helps him because he can’t really see himself pursuing a relationship while focusing on school.

—he’s been with you long enough that you understand his ambitions and won’t feel bested by them. the two of you have a system- starting the day off with sweet ‘good morning’ texts before class and ending the day with long conversations as you digest the last 12 hours.

—nanami is independent but he is thankful to have you to rely on when classes start to overwhelm him. the two of try to escape briefly for the weekend when you can. often going to near by reservations just to get off campus

—other times the two of you will cuddle close on your dorm bed, his long fingers combing through your hair while he reads over some notes for class.

—sometimes you have to be the one to tell him to take a break and to enjoy life while he can. even if that means dragging him the events and concerts hosted on campus. he resists at first but you can see the tension ebbing away as the night comes to a close.

—the two of you start living together in your senior year just because you can. he insists on buying a house. not only because he can afford it because it can be rented out after graduation. always the business man.

[luffles424]

Theory into Practice

☼ Pairing: Yoonji x reader x Jungkook

☼ Genre: fluff, smut, pwp (with some plot), teeny bit of angst, f2l, college au (technically more so grad school au)

☼ Count: 10.2K

☼ Warnings: 18+, drug use (pot), mentions of alcohol use, threesome, dom!Yoonji, dom!reader, sub!Jungkook, big dick!Jungkook, teasing, dirty talk, one thigh smack, thigh riding, fingering, hair pulling, breast play, oral (f & m receiving), face sitting, unprotected (pls stay safe), aftercare

☼ Summary: A normal night in with Yoonji leads to some interesting revelations with her and surprisingly, Jungkook.

☼ a/n: lmao it’s been a while. Hope you enjoy the Yoonji thirst, my girl doesn’t have enough fics out there. Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~

———

“Who of our friends do you think is the subbiest?”

You blink. It’s really a testament to how much you and Yoonji have smoked tonight that your immediate reaction isn’t to splutter at her question. Instead, you just blink slowly, the question slowly making its way through your synapses before you can articulate a response. You take another hit, using it to buy yourself a little more time. Holding the joint back out to her, you let the smoke slowly seep from your lips. 

“Who says I’ve thought about it?” 

You know exactly who you want to be subbiest. But you’re not going to reveal that. Maybe not yet. You might be high, but you still have enough of your wits to keep from spilling things you want to keep hidden. You’ve had good practice at that, smoking often with her and never divulging your crush, even when the topic of partners has come up. Which does come up fairly often as you both attempt to navigate dating while in grad school.

There’s a snort from the other end of the couch and Yoonji’s head lulls against the back of it so she can fix you with hazy, unimpressed eyes, though there’s a smirk just barely tugging at her lips. “I didn’t. But we’re talking about it now.”

Pursing your lips, you think of how to respond. In truth, you’ve thought about it a little, but not particularly in relation to your whole group of friends. Maybe just a person or two who you were particularly interested in that are in said friend group. Most notably, the women sitting on the other end of the couch from you currently. 

Yoonji laughs, foot kicking out to nudge you, and you grin at the flood of happiness that always accompanies hearing her laugh. “Damn, it’s not that deep. Why are you thinking so hard?”

Catching her foot, you dig your thumb into the sole of her foot, causing you both to dissolve into giggles. “We have a lot of friends,” you shoot back. An excuse and you both know it. 

You and Yoonji have been friends for too long for you to really be able to avoid answering a direct query. It’s only been luck that has kept your crush hidden from her. You’ve been friends since you met in 2nd year of undergrad, paired randomly as roommates and then continuing to remain roommates until even now when you live off campus in an apartment together. And many of your friends have come together and you both now share a common friend group.

Once Yoonji wrestles her foot free of your tickling grasp, she shifts in her seat, face far more serious than the topic at hand should really call for. “Fine, fine. I’ll accept your excuse,” she gives you a look that’s hard to interpret, though you mostly just don’t want to think too hard about the calculating look she’s giving you. It leaves you feeling exposed, like she can read your thoughts and knows all of your deepest secrets. Which is partially true, you and Yoonji share everything, save your feelings for her. “Which way do you think Jimin goes?”

She’s really going to make you do this? Well, you might as well give some actual thought to this. “With his praise kink? Definitely more sub leaning?”

Yoonji raises an eyebrow. “Leaning?”

“Well yeah. He’s definitely a switch. You’ve seen how he is when he’s focused. But he also likes helping others. Plus,” you pause, mostly just to be dramatic as you smirk knowingly, Yoonji leaning closer as she waits for what you’re going to say next, “Siyeon said he’s as good a dom as he is a sub.”

Scoffing, Yoonji reaches over to give you a little shove. “That’s cheating!”

You giggle, catching her hand before she pushes again. “It’s not!”

“It is! That’s insider information! This is supposed to be our opinion.”

Waving her off, you settle back onto the couch. “I gave my opinion. I would’ve had that before Siyeon told me. All she did was confirm.” You pause thoughtfully for a moment. You don’t want this to be all you, so you pose the next friend to her instead. “What about Seokjin?”

Yoonji drums her fingers on her bare thigh and you have to fight the urge to get lost in staring at the vast expanse of smooth, exposed skin she’s subjecting you to tonight while you’re impaired like this. You want to know if they’re as soft as they look. You know her hands aren’t, not anymore since she started learning guitar, finger’s growing rough and calloused. The first time she had held your hand after had startled you, now you love feeling the slight roughness brush against your skin. Dragging your gaze from her fingers to her face, you watch as she starts to speak, trying to remain focused on her words and not the way her pretty pink lips form them. 

“As much as I’d love to say sub because he would be just absolutely gorgeous all tied up and begging. I think he’s a bit more dom-ish.”

Mulling it over for a moment, you nod. He likes caring for all your friends, you can certainly see that transferring over into the bedroom. You add, “Yeah… But like, a soft one, ya know? He’d be so gentle and caring about it. I bet his aftercare game is amazing.”

Shifting, Yoonji stretches her legs out and echoes your thoughts. “Definitely. You’ve seen the way he cares for all of us, but definitely the younger guys. He’d be so amazing at that. What about Taehyung?”

“Hm, a dom. Maybe a little less gentle than Seokjin, but still a soft-ish dom. Namjoon?”

“Dom leaning switch. Sometimes he just really needs to get out of his head and let go of control. Hoseok?”

“Straight up switch. I think he probably doms more often but he’s all too happy to go with whatever his partner is in the mood for. Jungkook?”

Yoonji’s face lights up. “Oh,” she coos. “The sweetest sub ever.”

You stare at the way her eyes seem to glaze over with her words and something like jealousy swirls with heat in your belly. You can’t tell if the spike of jealousy is about the way she sighed her answer so sweetly, like she’s thought a lot about this. Or if it’s because you have the same thoughts and some part of you feels possessive over Jungkook. “Why’s that?”

She shoots you a coy smile that leaves you feeling slightly uneasy. “He’s just such a sweet boy and always so eager to please.”

You can’t deny that you’ve also thought that, dreamed that were true. You’ve heard rumors of how Jungkook is in bed. Domineering, cocky, rough. But it doesn’t stop you from imagining him beneath you, whimpering and begging. Yoonji nudges you and you blink at her, realizing that you must’ve zoned out for a moment. She purses her lips, barely hiding her knowing smile. 

“One more,” she declares. 

Frowning, you think through your shared friends, but can’t imagine who she might be referring to. “Who?”

Her answering smirk has your heart stuttering in your chest, equal parts dreading what’s about to come out of her mouth and anticipating. “Me.”

You swallow. She’s really going to make you answer that to her face? While you’re both high? You chew your lip, looking her over slowly. You know exactly how she leans, the benefit and downside to living together for so long. The words stick in your throat though, not quite able to bring yourself to voice your knowledge. To give yourself away like that, to show just how much you’ve paid attention. Yoonji says nothing though, looking at you expectantly as she waits for your answer. 

Taking a deep breath, you rationalize that this is just a game. You’re just giving opinions. It doesn’t have to be incriminating to anything deeper. You just won’t give reasons, just an answer which way she leans. “Dom.”

She grins, looking pleased with your answer. “You too.”

“What?” you blink at her, confused by what she means. 

“I think you’re a dom too.”

Your breath catches. You hadn’t thought about the fact that if you knew her preferences then she likely knew yours well. You’ve both talked about your sex lives with each other, but you’ve never delved deeply into what happens when you’re in your room with others. Staring at each other, your mind races. How much has she heard? How much does she truly know? Her gaze drops to your lips for a moment.

But before the conversation can go any further, there’s a knock at the door. The tension that built between the two of you suddenly breaks as Yoonji crows happily, jumping from her seat to go retrieve the food you’d ordered. Burying your face in your hands, you take a few deep breaths, trying to get your thoughts under control. You really can’t be sitting here, high and horny and thinking about Yoonji and Jungkook. Especially not while one of those people is sitting here with you.

By the time she’s back with food, you’ve got your tangled thoughts mostly controlled and the previous conversation isn’t brought up again. Yoonji complains about something Namjoon did while they were studying earlier in the day and then you’re both complaining about school and theses and classes and thoughts on doms and subs is forgotten about entirely. And you’re all too happy to just forget it happened at all. 

At least for the most part. You can’t help it if in the late hours of night, when exhaustion reigns and sleep eludes you, if you let your thoughts slip to less pure things as you hand slips into your panties. If when you’re alone, you think of you and Yoonji knelt over Jungkook as his big, shiny eyes shine brighter with overwhelmed tears and begs his noonas to let him cum. You don’t let it leave those times though, left in the dark and forgotten in the daylight hours. You ignore the thoughts when you go to lunch with Jungkook, have dinner with all your friends, go grocery shopping with Yoonji, let yourself act as if that conversation never happened.

You assume Yoonji has forgotten it too. Or at least chosen to leave that conversation with that night. 

Until you come home from buying snacks one night for the weekly smoking session to find Jungkook there too. Which in and of itself isn’t too strange. While you and Yoonji are the primary partakers of this night, all of your friends rotate in and out when the mood strikes. Most of the others usually go out drinking. Or study. And everyone rotates between the three activities with whatever strikes their mood (or is required by their grades). 

But Jungkook had said earlier in the day that he was going out with Tae and Jimin. He’s not even dressed for it, like he was just stopping by for a moment and then going to meet up with the others. Instead dressed comfortably in loose gray sweats and a matching sweatshirt, his blond hair still slightly damp from a shower under the hood he still has pulled up. 

You give him a smile as you set the snacks on the coffee table and move to sit on the couch. “I thought you were going out to drink?”

Jungkook shuffles from foot to foot nervously, glancing from you to Yoonji, who’s sat on the other side of the couch. “I uh… changed my mind?”

You frown, unsure of his odd behavior. He’s acting as if he’s never been to your apartment before, despite the fact that besides the two of you, he’s here the most. But Yoonji simply beckons him to sit, which he does so after a moment of hesitation, nervously tugging his hood off his head. Once he sits, you expect Yoonji to pull out a blunt and get the night started, but the silence stretches and she makes no moves to do so. You reach out to nudge her, head tilted questioningly. 

She gives you a quick glance before looking at Jungkook. “I have a proposition. For you both.” Brows furrowing, you’re about to question her when she continues. “Your noonas have a little theory they’d like to test.”

Your heart stops. There’s only one possible thing she could be talking about that would involve both a proposition and a theory that you both had. Is she just planning to ask him? But that wouldn’t involve a proposition…

Oh. 

She’s planning to ask him to let you both dom him. Stomach knotting uncomfortably, you worry that this could ruin the friendship the three of you share. That it could ruin the entire friendship dynamic of the whole group. You could lose a roommate, friends. But even with the bad scenarios running through your mind, you can’t deny the bolt of heat that sears straight to your core at even the barest hint of possibility of getting the pretty boy before you underneath you instead. 

Jungkook swallows, gaze darting from Yoonji to you and back. You wonder what Yoonji said to him to get him to come tonight. “What… What’s the theory?”

She gives a soft smile, but there's a predatory edge to it. You’ve seen it on her when you’ve gone to bars and clubs, wielded against unsuspecting people that she wants to spend the night with. You’ve seen the effects of that look on people and Jungkook is no different, already looking like he’s hooked on her every word, even if there’s still a touch of nerves in the tense line of his shoulders. She gestures for Jungkook to move from the chair to sit between you both on the couch. He hesitates before shuffling the short distance to sit where directed. You can’t help but note that he’s good at following instructions. It makes something hot twist in your belly. 

Yoonji shifts, kneeling on the cushion so she can press closer to Jungkook, close enough to whisper in his ear, though her tone is loud enough for you to hear too. “Your noonas have a theory that you are just the sweetest little sub ever.”

Jungkook tenses up at the words, and though it’s hard to tell if it’s from discomfort or just shock at Yoonji’s bold statement, you slide closer to be a reassuring hand to counterpoint Yoonji’s boldness.  

“If anything makes you uncomfortable, Jungkook, just tell us. We don’t want to cause you any discomfort, okay?” you murmur soothingly, hand rubbing gentle circles on his back. Yoonji peaks around to give you a grateful smile, although you’re unsure if it’s because you are joining her in her proposition or if it’s because you know enough to ensure that Jungkook’s comfort is the most important thing here.

Thinking for a moment, Jungkook gives a small nod and Yoonji takes that as her sign to continue. “Would you let your noonas find out if they’re right?”

“B-both of you?” he swallows, gaze darting between the two of you.

Leaning closer, you let your lips brush his ear, relishing the shiver you feel run through him. “Your noonas have seen the way you look at them when we dance together on nights out.” 

He stiffens beneath you and you pull back just enough to see the flush starting to color his cheeks. In truth, you know he’s not the only one that does. Jimin and Taehyung fairly regularly comment on how you both steal the show. And you and Yoonji aren’t blind, you know the way you both captivate an audience when you’re together, dressed up and putting on a show just for the thrill. But you’ve definitely caught Jungkook staring the most. Eyes hooded and lips parted like you and Yoonji are there solely for his entertainment. The way you’ve seen him have to restrain himself from approaching the both of you. It’s even more thrilling than the eyes of strangers on you. 

Yoonji coos. “Do you like watching your noonas together, baby?”

She doesn’t allow him a chance to answer though because as soon as the question has been asked, she’s nudging him back so he’s more reclined, leaving the two of you staring at each other over his chest. A moment passes, where you just stare at each other, as Jungkook looks between you both. 

There’s a wry twist to her lips and then she’s reaching out to pull you in for a kiss. The sudden press of her soft lips to yours has your brain short circuiting. All thought and reason leaving you, focus narrowed entirely down to the pressure of her mouth on yours. She tastes like strawberry and the sudden, lightest brush of her tongue across your lip has your brain kick starting again just as she starts to pull away. That simply won’t do. Hand tangling in her hair, you keep her close, keep the kiss going as you deepen it and you relish the slick slide of her tongue against yours.

You’ve imagined kissing her so much, but it’s nothing compared to reality. Yoonji is demanding, just as demanding as you are, and there are moments where the kiss turns a little rougher as one of you tries for the upper hand. It’s addicting, the feel of her, the rush, that you get lost in the kiss. So much so, that you entirely forget about Jungkook beneath you until he lets out a soft whimper. Pulling away from Yoonji, you both glance down at him and you nearly coo at the sight. He looks much like he does on nights that you’ve caught him watching you dance. But up close like this, you can see the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the way his tongue darts out occasionally to lick at his pink, bitten lips, how blown his eyes are already and he hasn’t even been touched yet. 

Disentangling yourself from Yoonji, you run an affectionate hand through Jungkook’s hair. “Do you want this, baby?” When he starts to nod again, you tighten your hand in his hair, halting his movement. “We need your words, Jungkook.”

His mouth opens, but no sound comes out. He clears his throat, eyes darting down in embarrassment before trying again. “Yes, noona. Want this… Want you both…”

Pleased, you let your hand drift down, cupping his cheek and thumbing gently along his cheekbone. “Yeah? Have you thought about this a lot? Have you thought about your noonas often?”

Swallowing, his gaze darts between the two of you nervously. And oh, you had just been teasing. But the nervous flit of his gaze, the way he won’t focus on either of you for longer than a moment. He has thought about the two of you. You wonder what he’s thought about, for how long. Has he touched himself while thinking about one of you? Both of you? Yoonji seems to pick up on the implication of his nonanswer too, because her lips are curling into a teasing smirk.

“Have you, baby? What a naughty boy. Thinking about your noonas like that.” Jungkook squirms, mouth open like he’s about to protest the statement, but Yoonji continues speaking. “Noona has too. Thought about how pretty you’d look and how good you’d be.”

Jungkook falters, blinking big eyes up at Yoonji with wonder. Like he never imagined that either of you would think of him the way he thinks of you. A breath shudders out of him as his eyes squeeze closed. You make the decision to move this from the couch if you’re going to go through with it.

Shifting, you push yourself to your feet, glancing at Yoonji to see that she follows your actions with a questioning furrow to her brows. Jungkook blinks his eyes open at the movement, blinking up at you both. You hold your hand out and after a moment, he takes it. Pulling him to his feet, Yoonji grabs his other hand and takes charge in leading Jungkook down the hall to her bedroom. 

The air in Yoonji’s room feels thick with heat. She flips a light on, letting soft, purple light fill the room and leaving it cast in subdued shades. You both release Jungkook’s hands, moving in near perfect synchronicity despite the fact that you’ve never done this before. There’s something unspoken that moves you both together. Standing side by side, you both face Jungkook, gazes slowly trailing over the younger man. He shuffles on his feet under the scrutiny, hands clasping in front of him like he’s a child about to be scolded. 

Yoonji’s head tilts, finger coming up to tap her chin in thought. “Something seems wrong here, doesn’t it?”

Humming, you nod in agreeance. “Yes, yes it does. Jungkook,” the boy starts at the call of his name, head jerking up to stare at you, like a deer caught in the headlights. 

Yoonji snaps her fingers. “You’re right. Jungkook, baby, strip for your noonas.”

“N-now?” His fingers twitch where they’re clasped before him. 

It’s cute how shy he has become. You’ve seen him shamelessly strip his shirt off at parties to do body shots, confidently pick up women at bars, boldly barge into rooms and capture everyone’s attention. You’ve only seen him this shy once, and that was when you all had first met him, before he had come out of his shell and grown close to you all. 

When he makes no move to start undressing, you speak up. “Jungkook,” you wait until he’s looking at you. “Do you know the stoplight system?” He thinks for a moment before nodding, face clouded with confusion. “Color?”

Gaze darting from you to Yoonji and back again, his tongue peaks for a moment. “Green.”

Yoonji grins proudly at the answer. “Aw, are you just shy then, baby? Nervous about being naked in front of your noonas for the first time?”

Ducking his head, Jungkook gives you both a quick nod that you just want to coo over, however inappropriate that reaction may be right now be damned. Instead, you shoot for comforting. “How about we start slow then? Just your shirt. You can do that, can’t you, baby? We’ve seen you shirtless plenty of times before.”

Jungkook fidgets for another moment before his fingers grip the edge of his baggy sweater. Eyes squeezing shut, there’s only only a second more of hesitation before the sweater is being pulled up and off. He clings to it, the fabric hanging in his hands in front of his chest, but doing very little to hide anything. He peaks an eye open and sees the way Yoonji quirks an eyebrow at him and the sweater drops from his hands to the floor. 

You’ve seen Jungkook shirtless plenty of times. Your entire friend group has. There was a period of a few months back towards the beginning of your friendship after he had gotten comfortable with you all that you would’ve sworn that he was allergic to shirts with how often you saw him shirtless. You know how toned he is, have been subjected to his ridiculous workouts on occasion, how diligently he works out simply for the fun of it. Muscles that shift under golden skin that you’ve seen at parties and on beach trips, that you’ve allowed yourself to glance out, appreciate and take in, but never to stare for too long and get caught. 

Now though, you drink your fill of the sight before you. Jungkook is tall, and when he’s shirtless he exudes a cockiness born from the hungry looks of others; his posture always making him seem taller, take up more space. But now, now his shoulders are hunched, like he’s trying to make himself smaller, seem less big even though his muscles make that nearly impossible. 

He glances up at you both through the curtain of blonde bangs and you can see the way the flush from his cheeks starts to spread down his neck and chest. It makes you itch to mark the pretty skin up, stake a claim on the sweet, shy boy before you. 

There’s a pleased hum from beside you. “Such a good boy, Jungkookie. You’re so good for your noonas, aren’t you?”

He nods quickly, eyes positively shining at the praise. Well, you both certainly pegged that one right. Oh, now there’s an idea. That might have to wait though. You don’t want to completely overwhelm him right at the start. 

“Now the pants, baby,” you grin, watching the way he swallows at the command.

Hands trembling slightly as he reaches for the waistband of his sweats, his nerves seem to grow now that he’s about to be fully exposed before you both. He takes a deep breath and then shoves his sweats and underwear down his legs. Your breath catches in your throat and you know Yoonji must be having a similar reaction given the sharp inhale you hear from her. 

Jungkook is absolutely stunning naked. You’ve known that his thighs were thick and just as toned as the rest of him, catching glimpses of the thick, corded muscles whenever he ditched sweats and his baggier clothing for jeans that looked like they’d been painted onto him. His hands immediately come together again in an attempt to cover his cock, already hard and leaking. But his hands do little to cover his long, thick cock, but it’s endearingly adorable that he tries. 

“So pretty,” you murmur, eyes tracing over every inch of skin. You don’t know what you want to do first to him, so many ideas flash through your mind as you stare at him.  

“So good, too. Can you lay down on the bed for us now, baby?”

Shyness seemingly forgotten for a moment, Jungkook nearly launches himself onto the bed, landing with a little bounce before he’s shuffling around so he’s stretched out in the middle of Yoonji’s bed. His eagerness is a good sign, showing that even if he’s nervous, that he very much wants to be here. The dark bedspread makes his skin seem to glow more and he looks absolutely gorgeous spread out for you. 

Yoonji moves closer to the bed and you move to follow suit and stand beside her at the foot, both of you just taking a moment to look at Jungkook. His cock twitches where it rests against his belly and heat pools in your belly at the knowledge that it’s yours to touch. At least for tonight. 

She turns to you then, hands landing on your hips to pull you closer. Chewing her lip for a moment, there’s an emotion that briefly flits across her face but before you can pin down what exactly it is she’s leaning in to press her lips to yours once again. Not letting yourself dwell on her expression, at least not now when there’s a very eager boy spread out for you both and Yoonji’s tongue slipping into your mouth. You can overthink later. Right now, you should just let yourself fall into the feel of her.

Her fingers dig into your hips and you let her get away with it only because you take the opportunity to slip your hands beneath her shirt, gripping her waist just as tightly for a moment before you’re tugging her shirt up and off. Kiss momentarily broken, you take the brief pause to look her over. Her bra is black and lacy, pushing her breasts up in a way that makes you want to get your mouth on them . You also know for a fact that it’s her ‘getting laid’ bra. Meaning she must have been pretty confident that the two of you would agree to this. You’re a little mad that she didn’t give you any sort of heads up to let you wear something better than just a comfy, colorful bra you use for daily wear. At least it’s cute. 

Leaning in, you nip harshly at her bottom lip in retaliation and you know by her giggle that she knows exactly what it was for. What a cruel tease, you’re definitely going to get her back in the future. You don’t know how just yet, but you will. You sooth the bite with your tongue, but you don’t get a chance for another proper kiss because Yoonji takes the opportunity to tug your shirt off as well. She pulls away after dropping your shirt to the floor, hungrily eyeing you up as her tongue wets her lips. You feel a heady rush at being able to pull such a look from the typically collected Yoonji. 

A moan pulls your attention back to the bed, where Jungkook has taken it upon himself to start lazily stroking himself, muscles shifting as his hips flex up into his grip. Exchanging glances, you and Yoonji quickly rid yourselves of your bottoms before climbing onto the bed on either side of Jungkook. This behavior simply won’t do. 

Sitting on your knees beside his thigh, you're quick to let your hand smack against the skin there. The sound echoes in the quiet room and Jungkook jerks, though you don’t know if it’s more from the sudden sound or the heat that blooms across his thigh even if the smack you gave him was fairly mild in terms of punishment. But it has the desired effect, his hand halting on his cock, though he doesn’t remove his hand from himself. His expression morphs into a mix of betrayal and confusion.

“Oh, sweet boy,” Yoonji coos, hand wrapping around his wrist. “Have you ever done this before?”

Swallowing, he looks nervous again, gaze darting around the room, but never landing on either of you before he minutely shakes his head. Yoonji gently pulls his hand from his cock, letting it slap wetly against his belly. 

“Aw, you poor thing. Have you always had to be the one in charge, huh? Do those girls see your big, pretty muscles and tattoos and just assume that you’re going to be domineering too? No one’s ever taken care of you like you deserve?” Yoonji murmurs, eyes burning as she speaks. 

Jungkook’s breath hitches as he blinks up at Yoonji. He shakes his head slightly and you can see how deeply he wants this. Wants to try, to let go and have someone else take control for once. Letting your fingers trail up his thigh, you trace a single fingertip up his cock with a featherlight touch, drawing a delightful gasp from him. He’s so sensitive to touch, it’s going to make this so much more fun. 

“Lesson number one, baby. No touching without permission. That includes your pretty little cock. Bad boys get punished.”

“And punishment can get much worse than a little slap on the thigh, sweetheart.”

His eyes widen. “I-I’m sorry! I d-didn’t know!”

Shushing him, you rub soothingly at the red mark you left on his thigh. It’s light and fairly small, a testament to how tame the smack was, but it makes you want to leave more, make them darker. Marks that remain for days, that remind Jungkook of your hands on him. “It’s okay, baby. You’re still learning. You won’t be punished.” You smirk teasingly. “This time at least.”

Licking his lips, he looks between you both. You can tell he’s thinking about something, but you can’t tell if the thought of punishment might actually be enticing to him or if he’s trying to figure out the rules without being told. Always the overachiever. 

Yoonji releases his hand, letting it fall to rest against the bed once more. “We’ll go easy on you, baby, don’t worry. You’ll be a good boy for us, won’t you?” Jungkook nods quickly, hands clenching at the bedspread. “What do you want, baby?”

“Want…” he licks his lips, seems to think slowly over his wants in this moment. “Wanna see you kiss again.”

You giggle. “Aw, sweet thing,” you glance over at Yoonji, “doesn’t even want a kiss for himself.”

Yoonji tsks, wide grin matching yours. “Someone must really enjoy watching.”

Planting a hand high on Jungkook’s thigh, Yoonji mirrors your actions as you both lean closer to meet over Jungkook once more. This kiss is slow, you take your time and enjoy the feel of her soft mouth against yours. You could easily get lost in the kiss again, it would be so easy. Jungkook’s thigh twitches beneath your hand and you give him a small squeeze, acknowledge that you haven’t forgotten about him and it draws a soft moan from him. 

The sound seems to spark something in Yoonji, as she surges closer, deepening the kiss. Her free hand comes up to rest on the side of your neck, thumb brushing along your jaw. Not wanting to be outdone, you reach out and let your fingers trace her collarbone before following her sternum down until you can palm at one of her covered breasts. That draws a soft gasp from her that you greedily swallow down. 

Her hand tightens on your neck, pulling like it’s possible to pull you closer and her other hand abandons Jungkook’s thigh to grope at your breast. You both get greedy for the feel of each other. Your hand quickly leaves Jungkook’s thigh as well, slipping behind Yoonji to undo her bra. It falls slack on her shoulders, hindered from coming off by her hands on you. Bumping her hands off for a moment, you tug the offending article free from her and toss it off the bed. Yoonji wastes no time in getting her hands back on you once you’ve removed the bra and you’re now free to palm her tits in your hands. 

Jungkook whimpers below you both, his hand bumps your thigh before it’s being jerked away. “N-noona…”

Parting with a gasp, you both look down at Jungkook, his hands fisted at his sides, knuckles nearly white. Your hands fall from each other as you give the prone man your attention. You’re impressed with his restraint, you hadn’t expected him to be so well behaved the very first time. But that’s actually pretty typical of Jungkook, excelling at anything he tries. 

His pupils are blown with lust and he swallows his nerves as he speaks. “C-can… Can I touch too?”

“You wanna touch your noonas while they kiss, baby?” Yoonji asks. He nods, eyes wide and Yoonji’s answering smirk is bordering on mean. “Why?”

“W-what?”

“Why do you want to touch your noonas while they kiss, baby? I thought you just wanted us to kiss and touch each other?”

He looks to you, seemingly lost by the question. But you simply raise an eyebrow and wait for an answer. He squirms a little, cock twitching. “Um… I… I…”

“Have you thought about touching us before?” you murmur, reaching out to cup Yoonji’s breast, thumbing at the nipple and drawing a sigh from her. “Have you thought about noona’s pretty tits and how they’d feel in your hands?”

Whining, Jungkook nods his assent eagerly, eyes fixed firmly on where your hand plays with Yoonji. Yoonji presses a quick kiss to your lips, casting a teasing look to Jungkook before she’s reaching up to unclasp your bra and tug it off of you to toss it behind her. Yoonji raises herself up onto her knees, pulling you with, and she leans you both together until your breasts press together. They’re just as soft against you as they were in your hands. If you weren’t focused on teasing Jungkook, you’d pin her down and get your mouth on them.

She glances to the side to look at Jungkook. “How do you wanna touch, baby?”

His eyes drag down your bodies slowly, gaze darting so quickly like there’s so much he wants to touch and he doesn’t know where to even begin. “Noona…” he whines. 

You chuckle. “Aw, baby. Do you need your noonas to help you?”

“Please.”

“Put your hands on our hips.”

He’s eager and quick to comply, hands coming up to rest hot and heavy against the curve of your hip. His fingers flex against you, like he wants to move his hand to touch more but they remain in place. Yoonji leans in to kiss you again and you think you could kiss her forever. After a moment, you break the kiss, trailing your lips along her jaw and down her neck. Laving your tongue over her pulse point, you relish the shiver that runs through her. You’re overcome with the urge to mark her and so you let your teeth sink into her skin before soothing it with your tongue and sucking kisses. Yoonji groans in the back of her throat and you move down her neck to suck another dark mark and draw more noises from her. 

You know logically that she’s been as affected by all this as you, but hearing the proof is intoxicating. It goes straight to your pussy and the longer you go on, the more you feel drip from you to soak your panties.

“What do you want next, baby?” Yoonji pants, hand reaching to cover the hand on your hip. His gaze drops to where your breasts are pressed together, but he doesn’t say anything. “Do you wanna touch noonas’ tits? Greedy boy,” she chuckles breathlessly, ending in a gasp when you nip at her collarbone. 

His hands twitch against you like he is fighting the urge to just do what he wants, to do what he’s always done with women. But he remains diligent and keeps his hands where he was told too. Pressing one last kiss to Yoonji’s neck, you pull away, staring at the darkening marks while a possessive heat curls in your belly. You shift then, nudging Jungkook’s thighs slightly apart and then you’re throwing a leg over to straddle his thigh, dropping down to press your clothed pussy against the corded muscle. The damp material drags deliciously against your pussy and any other time, you would ride his thigh until he was begging you to touch him or let him touch.

Gasping, Jungkook’s hand tightens enough to bruise and you grin down at him. “Can you feel how wet noona is for you, baby?”

He nods a little dazedly, looking down where you’re pressed against his thigh like he can’t believe what he’s feeling or seeing. Giving a little grind, you feel a rush of desire run through you at the breath that rushes from Jungkook’s lips. 

“Baby,” you purr, “didn’t you want to touch noona’s tits?”

“Please…”

“Go ahead, baby.”

His hand quickly abandons your hip once he’s given permission; big, warm palm cupping one of your breasts like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever touched. You have to fight down the urge to giggle at the unexpected tenderness. Yoonji moves beside you, straddling Jungkook’s other thigh and she takes the opportunity to move Jungkook’s other hand for him, placing it over one of her breasts. 

Gaze darting from one hand to the other, his hands remain frozen for a long moment before he’s tentatively squeezing. Then he quickly grows more confident, seemingly more familiar with at least this part as his fingers tease at your nipple. Leaning slightly to the side, you press a kiss to Yoonji’s shoulder until you have her attention and then you’re pressing your lips to hers once more. Letting your hand slip into her hair, you tilt her head, deepening the kiss. Her hand lands on your waist, fingers tracing a burning path down until they can grope at your ass. 

Your hips jerk, clit dragging across Jungkook’s thigh and a moment later, you feel his muscles shift as he flexes. Breaking the kiss with a gasp, you glance down at him with a smirk. Jungkook looks perfectly debauched beneath you both. The flush dusting his cheeks stretches down his chest, his bright eyes burn with want as his hands work on both you and Yoonji. His cock rests heavy against his belly, tip dark with neglect, but he seems wholly oblivious to it even as your attention zeroes in on it.

“What a good boy you’re being. Giving noona something to grind against?”

His dick twitches at that and you let a finger brush gently down the length. A loud gasp leaves his lips, hips straining upward but he can’t get very far with the combined weight of you and Yoonji pinning his legs down. You give a deliberate grind down, Jungkook’s eyes quickly zeroing in on where your clothed pussy meets his bare thigh. Hands falling still on your breast, he licks his lips before his hand is slowly sliding down to timidly tug at the waistband of your panties.

“Can… Can these come off?”

Yoonji hums. “Wanna see noona’s bare pussy, baby?”

Nodding quickly, he looks up at you both with wide eyes. “Yes, please. Wanna see.”

The hand on your ass slides around to rest just on the waistband of your panties. “You wanna see just how wet our pretty baby boy has made us?”

Breath shuddering, he nods again, eyes trained on Yoonji’s hand as it finally slips into your panties. You groan as her fingers slip between your folds, fingertips teasing across your clit before dipping lower to gather your wetness. Before she can do much more than leave a few teasing touches, she’s pulling her hand from your panties and holding her hand up for you all to see. Jungkook’s gaze bores into the glistening digits, licking his lips slowly. 

“Open,” she commands and his mouth falls obediently open, hope shining in his eyes when her fingers inch closer to his lips. “Do you want to taste noona?”

“Yes,” he breaths out, tongue extending like it’ll get Yoonji’s fingers to his mouth faster. 

She stops just before she reaches his tongue and when he strains closer in an attempt to touch, she pulls her fingers away, keeping them teasingly just out of his reach. “Answer noona’s question first, baby. Good boy’s always answer when asked a question. And you wouldn’t want to be bad, now would you?”

Blonde hair flies as he quickly shakes his head no. “No! I’m good! I promise! Please, I wanna taste noona!”

Yoonji’s smile softens. “What a good boy.” 

With that, her fingers press against his tongue. Moaning, Jungkook’s lips close around the digits as he sucks enthusiastically. You wonder if he’s as enthusiastic when he’s eating someone out and your pussy clenches at the thought. A few moments later, she pulls her fingers free and Jungkook’s lips purse in a pout, drawing a laugh from both of you. You shift, finally tugging your panties down to discard over the edge of the bed. Jungkook’s eyes are drawn back to your pussy, now bared for him to see. 

His hand twitches where it rests against your hip, but it doesn’t move and there’s a rush of heat that accompanies the fact that he’s doing so well already. Turning to Yoonji, you begin to tug at her panties, earning a laugh from her as she moves to help you get them off of her. 

As much as you want to take in Jungkook’s reaction to you both being naked before him, you can’t stop the greedy part of you that reaches out to slip your hand between her legs to touch. A soft sigh leaves her lips and you can’t help but lean in to smother the sound with a kiss. Your fingers find her just as wet as you are yourself and you relish in the moment to tease your fingers along her pussy. 

Whining, Jungkook squirms beneath you both, thigh inadvertently bumping your hand harder against Yoonji and further smearing her wetness across your palm. You pull your hand away and Jungkook follows the movement with laser focus. 

“Want to taste your other noona, baby?” you tease. 

“Yes, please,” he murmurs.

Biting your lip on a smile, you move your hand slowly closer to his open mouth, watching the way his eyes light up with excitement. But before you reach his lips, you stop, drawing a pretty pout from the boy. Then you wink and you quickly bring your fingers to your own mouth instead. Twin gasps greet the action as you slip two fingers into your mouth and moan at the taste of Yoonji on your tongue. Your eyes slip closed as you suck your fingers clean and when you pull your fingers free and glance down to Jungkook, you’re met with a look that is equal parts jealous and hungry. 

Hand dropping to the bed beside him, his eyes widen as you lean over him. “Still want a taste, baby?”

His gaze darts to your lips as he nods. You seal your mouth over his, taking advantage of the surprised part to his lips to slip your tongue in. He whimpers, hands coming up to rest on your hips as he chases the taste of Yoonji on your lips. 

Kissing Jungkook is nothing like kissing Yoonji. He’s like putty beneath you, following your lead where Yoonji fought you for control, kept you on your toes. Not necessarily aggressive, but Yoonji kisses you with a consuming hunger, burning you from the inside out. Jungkook is like a breath of fresh air, he’s soft and needy, making these quiet little huffs with each brush of your tongue. You wonder if he realizes that he’s moved his hands, that he’s touching you when he’s not supposed to be, but you decide to let it slide just this once. You’re much more interested in drawing out more of those sweet, little sounds from him.  

A moment later though, his hands are being pulled away and Yoonji is tutting him as she leans against you to pin his hands to the bed. “Naughty boy, what did we say about touching?”

With a whine, he pulls away from your mouth. “‘M sorry... “

You snicker. “Is noona so good at kissing that you forgot the rules, sweet thing?”

Jungkook lets out a low whine again. “Noona.”

Yoonji shifts against you, hands adjusting her grip on Jungkook’s wrists and you’re momentarily distracted by the press of her breasts against your back. Pressing again, she forces you to drop fully against Jungkook as she hooks her chin over your shoulder. 

“I’ll just have to hold you while noona kisses you, hm?”

He squirms beneath you and you see him strain feebly against Yoonji’s hands. You all know that he could easily break her hold; that the strain he shows is feigned and exaggerated. But his acquiescence to her grip, to you both taking control, is the most telling thing to his desires. He wants this, just as much as you both. Even if he’s new and inexperienced in this aspect, he wants. 

His lips part with small huffs and you can’t help yourself when you dip back down to kiss him. He squirms again before melting entirely into the kiss, letting Yoonji hold him still while you lick into his mouth. A heady rush fills you at his pliancy, you always imagined him submitting, but it was nothing like this. Jungkook behaves like he’s been subbing for you both for ages, like he knows the routine, that the momentary lapses in following the rules is nothing more than being a little bratty to provoke a reaction. 

The kiss stretches, you don’t know for how long, getting lost in the feeling of Jungkook beneath you and the softness of Yoonji’s breasts pressing into your back. Jungkook’s hips twitch, his cock brushing wetly against your side and you finally decide to have some mercy on him. Lifting slightly, Yoonji gets the hint and sits up fully, allowing you to do the same. You smile at the way Jungkook is laid out, eyes lidded, lips kiss swollen and flush sitting high on his cheeks. He looks fucked out already and barely anything has happened yet. 

Taking Yoonji’s hand in yours, you lift it to your lips to press a soft kiss to the palm. “I think it’s time to reward our baby, hm? He’s been so good for his first time.”

Her fingers brush your cheek as she smiles. “He does.” She turns her attention back to Jungkook. “How do you want your noonas, baby?”

Swallowing, his gaze flicks back and forth between the two of you. He takes a long time to answer, seemingly nervous. “I… I don’t know… I’m s-sorry…”

“Aw sweetheart, there’s no need to be sorry. You’re just overwhelmed, huh?” He nods, lips pursed in a pout, and you continue. “Do you want your noonas to pick something for your reward for you?”

“Yes, please… There’s too many things… I can’t pick…”

You pat his side affectionately. “It’s okay, baby. Noonas will take good care of you.”

His eyes shine at your praise as he nods eagerly. You and Yoonji exchange looks and seem to be thinking the same thing as you move off Jungkook’s thigh to move further up the bed and Yoonji shifts to fully straddle his hips. 

Yoonji grins as she sees the way Jungkook follows your movement. “Ever had someone sit on your face, baby?”

Eyes widening, his gaze darts to Yoonji before turning back to you and you raise an eyebrow when he doesn’t answer. “N-no…”

“Pinch my thigh if you need to stop for any reason, okay, baby?” You wait for him to murmur a quiet ‘okay’ before moving to throw your leg over his head.

You feel his breath hot against your wet folds and when you glance up at Yoonji, you see her focus is trained where you sit just above Jungkook’s mouth. With a lick of your lips, you lower yourself until your pussy presses to Jungkook’s mouth, which instantly falls open, tongue darting out to lap at your slit. Groaning, you grind against his tongue, giving yourself a few seconds to enjoy the pleasure sizzling in your belly. 

Then you’re reaching up for Yoonji, grabbing her hips to tug her until she’s hovering over Jungkook’s cock. One hand slides from her hips and you let your fingers trace lightly along her slit, knuckles brushing his cock as you do. 

You hold Yoonji’s gaze as you begin speaking, fingers dipping between her folds to tease at her clit. “Gotta get noona ready for you, baby. Get her nice and stretched for your big, pretty cock.” 

Jungkook whines against you and Yoonji lets out a low moan as you slip a finger into her. Yoonji is warm and wet and tight around your finger and your breath stutters as she clenches around the digit. Letting your finger curl, you rub against her walls, searching for that spongy bundle of nerves. 

It takes a few seconds, your attention being pulled by Jungkook’s tongue as he enthusiastically eats you out. But you find it quick enough, signaled by the sharp gasp that leaves her lips when you finally brush against it. Grinning victoriously, you tease at the bundle until her thighs begin to quiver, pleased to have wrung such a reaction from her.

Her hand darts out suddenly, gripping your wrist tightly. Her gaze is dark when it meets yours and she arches an eyebrow at you. “I think you’re enjoying yourself more than getting me ready for our baby,” she teases.

Your body heats. She’s not wrong, you maybe did forget what you were doing a little bit. Grinning, you slide your finger out until just the tip remains before thrusting back in with two. “Guilty.”

She opens her mouth to speak again but you let your thumb brush her clit and it effectively silences her retort. She glares for only a moment before letting her head fall back with a groan and letting herself enjoy the slow pumps of your fingers. 

Slipping a third finger in, Yoonji’s hips start to move, little grinds that push your hand against Jungkook’s cock. You lift your hips slightly, giving Jungkook a moment to breath. 

“Are you ready for noona to ride you, baby?” you ask as you pull your fingers from Yoonji. 

All you get in response is a whimper as you grasp his cock with your wet fingers, other hand settling on Yoonji’s hip and you guide him to her entrance. You give her hip a squeeze and she lets herself drop, pulling your hand away so her hips can settle flush to his. You can feel Jungkook’s breath panting hot against your pussy, his hands squeezing tightly at the sheets.

“How does noona’s pussy feel, baby?” you murmur. He whines and you give his nipple a pinch, making his hips jerk. “When noona asks a question, she expects an answer.”

“‘M sorry… Noona feels good…”

You let your free hand settle on Yoonji’s other hip. “How’s he feel?”

“Fuck… so good. He’s such a good boy.” 

Jungkook’s hands suddenly wrap around your thighs. You jerk in surprise, ready to reprimand him, but before you can say anything, he’s pulling you back down onto his mouth. Yoonji laughs breathlessly, hands coming to rest on his belly as she starts to lift her hips. 

“How’s his mouth?”

Giving her a groan in response, you grind against his tongue, toes curling as his fingers tighten against your thighs. Both of you fall quiet, save for pants and moans, letting yourselves be consumed with chasing your own pleasure for a moment. Heat simmers in your belly, building with each swipe of Jungkook’s tongue and teasing suck to your clit. Jungkook’s efforts combined with the view of Yoonji riding his cock has your orgasm building until one harsh suck pushes you over the edge. 

Head falling back, you moan as your orgasm spreads through your veins, igniting like fire and leaving you shuddering as Jungkook seems to get even more enthusiastic below you. You vaguely hear Yoonji swear under her breath, but you don’t have it in you to look at her as Jungkook draws your orgasm out. 

Finally you lift your hips, overstimulation beginning to creep in, and you and Jungkook pant together as your high slowly ebbs away and you come back to yourself. Blinking your eyes open, you see Yoonji’s have slipped closed as she moves and you find your gaze glued to the way her tits bounce with each movement. 

Seeing an opportunity, you reach forward, letting your fingers find her clit and her eyes shoot open with a gasp at your touch. You grin, shifting so you’re knelt beside the pair. “Baby,” you coo, “look how pretty noona looks sitting on your dick.”

It takes him a moment, but Jungkook’s head lifts and your pussy clenches at the sheen of your slick covering the lower half of his face. His lips are parted as he makes sweet, little noises, soft moans and whines, and his hazy eyes trail over you both like he doesn’t truly know where to look. You swirl your fingers, drawing a wheezed gasp from Jungkook and you can’t help the teasing grin that forms. 

“Aw, baby. Did noona tighten up? Is she close? Are you gonna be good and let her cum on your cock?”

Jungkook’s nodding before you even finish speaking, hips twitching in small little thrusts and you pick up the pace on her clit. Leaning forward, you take one of her nipples in your mouth, teeth teasing the bud before you sooth it with your tongue.

“Fuck… gonna-” She cuts off, moving faster until her hips slam down as she starts to cum. 

You keep your fingers going, gradually slowing down as her orgasm shudders through her. Jungkook whines and squirms beneath her, but remains more still that others would. She tugs your hand away finally as she continues to shiver with aftershocks. You bring your fingers to your mouth with a teasing glance and lick them clean as she watches through hooded eyes. 

Jungkook whimpers, drawing both of attention to him and Yoonji lifts herself off his cock, drawing an even louder whine from him. 

You pat his side soothingly. “Don’t worry, baby. We’re gonna take care of you. Want your noona’s mouth?”

He blinks wet eyes at you both, cock twitching where it lays against his belly and Yoonji laughs. “I think that’s a yes.”

She takes him in her hand and his hips strain up into her grip. He’s so desperate already and you have barely even teased him or drawn this out. He’s definitely going to be fun in the future. Leaning down, you let your tongue swirl around the tip, licking up the taste of Yoonji and Jungkook together. They taste wonderfully divine. His hips strain upwards again and you and Yoonji each use a hand to hold his hips down as you continue your slow, teasing licks. Once you’ve licked all traces of Yoonji from him, you take him into your mouth, humming in content at the way he stretches your lips.

“‘M g-gonna… please… please can I?”

“Aw, you’re asking permission? You’re such a good boy. Of course you can cum, baby. You’ve been so good to your noonas.”

It takes only a couple bobs of your head for his back to bow as the first spurt of salty fluid hits your tongue. He cries out, body strung tight as he cums down your throat. You let your tongue rub at his frenulum as you and Yoonji work to draw out his orgasm as long as possible. When he begins to tremble and whimper, you finally pull away, licking your lips clean as you do. 

Jungkook’s eyes are shut tight, shuddering through the last aftershocks and he looks beautifully debauched. Glancing at Yoonji, you see the same fond look on her face that you know to be on yours. Leaning down, you pepper a few kisses to his lips and cheeks before stretching out beside him and cuddling up to his side. 

“You did such a good job, baby. You were so good for us,” you murmur, letting your hand rub his belly. 

Yoonji mirrors you and after a moment, halts your rubbing by interlacing your fingers with her. The look on her face is hard to read, but she gives you a reassuring squeeze. 

“The best baby,” she agrees, turning to Jungkook and giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

Jungkook gets a goofy grin, seeming to melt between the both of you at the praise. At the rate he’s going, he might have a bigger praise kink than Jimin. You all fall silent, breath evening out and simply enjoy the afterglow. You assume Jungkook at the very least has fallen asleep as your mind begins to swirl with the implications of what just happened. 

Leave it to your overthinking to ruin a nice postcoital cuddle. But you can’t help but wonder where this leaves the three of you. Was this just a one time thing? Does it mean anything deeper? You want so badly for it to mean more, but you also know that getting your hopes up leads to more hurt in the end. 

Jungkook surprises you by breaking the silence, voice rough like he’s fighting sleep. “What does this mean?” 

He sounds so small when he says it, it makes your heart ache a little. You’re not sure how to answer him though, because you also don’t really know what this means. You know what it means for you, but you can’t speak for Yoonji, or even Jungkook. 

Yoonji pushes up onto her elbow so she can look at you both and you see that same fond look in her eyes again. It makes something warm and content twist in your belly. “I thought I had made my intentions clear, but I guess not. I like you.” Before the hurt you feel can stretch too far, she looks at you. “Both of you. I had intended to get that done first tonight. But, uh, well things got a little carried away.”

Jungkook snorts. “Only a little?”

She pulls her hand from yours, giving him a quick pinch. “Hey! Don’t go getting mouthy now.”

Grinning in response, he wraps his arms around you both, tugging you somehow closer. “I like you both too… I have for a really long time…” he pauses, seeming to think for a moment before continuing. “And I really liked tonight… What we did… I’d like to explore more of that…”

They both look at you and you can’t help the giddy grin that spreads across your face. You push yourself up just enough to lean across to give Yoonji a kiss and then turn to give Jungkook one too. “Of course I like you both. God, who couldn’t? You both are so wonderful.”

Jungkook giggles happily and then in the blink, he’s managed to get you and Yoonji pushed together as he hovers over you both. He gives you each a kiss to the forehead. “So does this mean you’ll be my girlfriends?” Laughing, you give him a nod and he glows with happiness. “I have the prettiest girlfriends.”

You and Yoonji both reach up, each cupping one of his cheeks. Warm floods you, feeling happy and content with them both. 

“And we have the prettiest boyfriend.”

[troubatrain]

with you around - n. patrick

a/n: so this is a repost of an old fic from my old blog that survived the purge when I deleted - there’s actually two parts i just need to find the other one to post it lmao. i’m tagging @prettyboybarzal​ because nolpat is the dream stoner boyfriend and there’s nothing you can do to convince me otherwise

You open your back door, sneaking out and walking to the back of the yard, climbing up the worn ladder to the tree house your parents built over a decade ago. You check your phone, knowing Nolan would have landed an hour ago which means he should be walking over to you now. You move the random throw pillows you’d collected over the years, trying to make the wooden house slightly more comfortable.

“You have got to stop making me climb up here,” You hear a deep voice huff, and you knew exactly who was on his way up.

“It’s tradition, Nolan,” You deadpan, it was how you both spent every first night of summer.

You watch as Nolan flicks on the old Christmas lights you’d hung up when you were sixteen. That was the first year you’d spent without the comfort of having your best friend next door. You were proud of Nolan, but it didn’t take away from how rough of a year it was without him. He finally plops down next to you, “So what’s been going home?”

“Same old, same old,” You say, pulling the joint from your hoodie pocket, twirling it in your hand.

Nolan laughs, “You’re going to get me in so much trouble one of these days.”

Regardless of his words, Nolan snatches the joint and lighter out of your hand, lighting the paper and taking a big puff, coughing as soon as he did.

“You’re losing your touch Nols,” You say, joking about when you were younger Nolan could smoke more than anyone - hockey being the only reason he’d stop. You take a huge puff of smoke, blowing it out easily.

“Why are we still friends? All you do is bully me,” Nolan says, nudging you with his shoulder lightly.

“You’re too grumpy for everyone else,” You say, “I just put up with it.”

Nolan laughs, and your heart swells at the sound. You’d missed him, and you were happy to have him with you. He looked like your Nolan when he was home, his eyes a little glassy from the joint, his cheeks rosy and full of joy, and his eyes that only ever seemed to be on you.

“How are you?” You ask, leaning your head on his shoulder. You knew he had a rough season with everything that was going on. You’d wished you could have been there but you got so wrapped in school you couldn’t find the time to make the trip out to Philly.

“Some days are good, some days are bad,” Nolan says solemnly, “I wish I got to play.”

“I wish you got to play too,” You say, moving your hand to run through his hair, “You’ll be back on the ice soon.”

You fell into a long conversation about what the other person had missed. Nolan told you about his year, living with Kevin and TK’s usual antics. You talked about how college was going, living out in Alberta to go to art school. You got so excited talking about your classes and what you’d been creating.

“Speaking of art school, take any thought to those post grad plans?” Nolan asks, looking down at you next to him.

You sigh, knowing what he’d been referring to. He mentioned it from time to time, moving to Philly with him after you finally graduated. He knew it was a good city to create art in and that you would have more opportunities out there. You weren’t sure if you wanted to up and leave everything you’ve ever known to move all the way to Philadelphia - even if it was with Nolan.

“I don’t know Nols,” You say.

He nods, it was the same answer you always gave him, “I just want you to have every opportunity you deserve.”

You smile, he’d always been your number one supporter. You sometimes think you could the worst painting in the world but Nolan wouldn’t hesitate to say he liked it. He didn’t totally understand art, and it definitely wasn’t his comfort zone but he always listened to you talk about it anyways. 

“I’ll give you an answer next summer,” you say, “Pinky promise.”

Nolan’s eyebrows raise at the seriousness of your voice, “A pinky promise?”

“Yeah Nols, let’s go, hold it out,” You say, holding your pinky out for his to link with yours.

“If it matters, I really want to have you out in Philly with me, you’ll love it,” Nolan says, throwing his arm around you to pull you closer.

Your face finds its usual spot, tucked right under Nolan’s chin, he still felt the same. He talked more about Philly, and all of the things about it he knew you’d love. You doze off, the sounds of Nolan’s deep voice putting you to sleep easily.

--

You scan the house party for the millionth time, waiting to see when Nolan was getting there. He had a late afternoon skate, and you knew for a fact that he was going to pass out afterwards - but at this point you thought he was never going to make it out.

“Are you looking for your other half?” You hear your friend, Kacey, say.

“He’s not my other half,” You say to the tattooed brunette next to you, her eyebrow raised at you, and you took a big gulp of your drink to try and avoid the topic all together.

“He wants you to move to Philly with him after you graduate,” Kacey says, “You’re practically married, and he’s here.”

Your whips around to the front door, Nolan walking in, his skateboard in hand and a case of beer in the other. 

You hear Kacey scoff at how quickly you turned your head, “I hate both of you really.”

Kacey walked away as soon as Nolan spotted you, walking over to you and wrapped you in a tight hug.

“Nice of you to show up,” You say, pulling back from his arms, “Take a good nap?”

“How did you know I was asleep?” Nolan says, grabbing a beer for himself.

You turn your head, giving him a knowing look, “We both know you’ve been passed out for the last like four hours.”

Nolan laughs, “You’re 100% right.”

Nolan sticks by your side for the rest of the night. He’s never been one for parties, even if all of his friends were there. You didn’t mind, having Nolan around allowed you to drink however much you wanted. You knew he’d keep you safe, and there wasn’t anything bad about having all of his attention. He’d been your partner for beer pong, ignoring the look Kacey was giving you from across the table. You had lost him eventually, after you insisted he danced along to the Blink 182 song that was playing on the speaker. 

“Nols!” You say, finally finding him across the party, leaning against the wall on his phone, you step in his arms, the alcohol blurring the boundaries you usually set for yourself. 

Nolan slipped his phone back into his pocket, one his hands moving to weave through your hair, “Ready to go?”

You nod, definitely ready to pass out. Nolan smiles, grabbing his skateboard he’d left right at the door, and your hand, walking right out the front door. 

Your mouth curves up to a smile, “Nols…” you whine, trying your best to pout at the boy in front of you.

Nolan sighs, turning around so you could hop onto his back. You jump up, legs wrapping around his waist. Nolan drops his skateboard, stepping onto it and heading in the direction of your house. It wasn’t the first time you made Nolan carry you home, it was so easy when he just could. 

“Are you ever going to get sick of this?” You mutter into his shoulder.

“Of what? Carrying you home?” Nolan asks, and you nod, “Nope.”

“You’re lying,” You tease, knowing there was no way Nolan hasn’t gotten sick of you yet. You’d been bothering him since the day he moved next door and you knew you wanted the rosy cheeked boy to be your best friend. Your eyes started to get heavy when Nolan finally hit your street, stopping in front of your house.

“Be sure to give me a five star rating,” Nolan says, bending down gently so he could get you down.

“Ride was a little bumpy, you can have four,” You say, opening the gate to the front of your house, “Get home safe Nols.”

Nolan rolled his eyes, waiting for you to walk into your house. He closed the gate behind you, walking over to his house to head to bed, checking his window one more time to make sure you were in bed before he fell asleep.

--

You walked around the small art supply store, the same place you’d been working in since you were sixteen. It was the best, you got a great employee discount and the older couple who owned it let you work when you were home from college. The bell above the door chimes, Nolan stepping into the store, two iced coffees in his hands.

“Is that Nolan?” Barbara, the owner of the store, called out as soon as he walked in, “Here to get Y/N into trouble?”

Nolan laughs, handing you your coffee and looking over to the older woman standing behind the counter, “If anything, I’m here to keep her out of trouble.”

You roll your eyes, “Hardly, Barb he can’t even tie his shoes.”

“I can! I just choose not too,” Nolan bickers back.

Barbara laughs at your antics, “You two are so funny, I’m going to run out, I think you guys can handle it?”

Nolan salutes the older woman while you snicker behind him, “I think she trusts us too much.”

“Us? It’s you she trusts too much,” Nolan says.

Nolan spends the rest of your shift at the store bothering you. He helped you stock the shelves, reading off the weird names of the paint bottles he was putting up. And when you asked Nolan why he was spending a beautiful summer day inside working with you, he just shrugs and tells you there's nothing he’d rather do.

--

Summer nights had always been spent the same. They were either at some party, the treehouse, or Nolan and yourself would just hang out in your room. He’d let you paint, setting up his own video games in your bedroom so he could keep you company. You both enjoyed your peace and quiet - but you enjoyed it even more with each other. 

Tonight was one of those nights, you were standing in the corner of your room, a blank canvas in front of you. You’d been looking for inspiration for almost a week, just having no idea what to even work on. You tie your hair up into a bun, and you step back, hands fiddling with the end’s of the oversized t-shirt you had over your shorts.

“What’s up with you?” Nolan asks, his focus not breaking the game he was playing.

“I don’t know what to paint,” You huff, hands on your hips.

Your mind ponders for a minute, and you pull out the box of polaroids next to your bed. You dump them on your bed, hoping you took a picture that could spark something. Nolan pauses his game, moving to look at the picture you poured out. There were ones of him, and ones you took when you came to see him in Philly. There were images of your friends, your roommates at college, and your family. You took your camera with you everywhere, you just liked having the memories. Nolan pulls a photo up, of someone’s back painted with a scene of the beach.

“Oh that’s Kacey,” You say, it was something you’d seen on Instagram that you wanted to try.

“You could do that to me?” Nolan says, voice deeper than usual.

You think about it for a moment, Nolan was big, and quite frankly his back wasn’t a bad canvas, “Okay turn around.”

You move to grab some paint and some brushes, watching as Nolan grabs the back of his t-shirt, tossing it in the corner of your room. You shake any of the dirty thoughts that ran through your head as you sit next to him. Nolan turns to you, grabbing your leg and swinging it over his waist so you were straddling him, grabbing his controller and going back to his game. You take a deep breath, and get to work. You think about what you’re going to paint, but you just let your mind rest - painting whatever came to your mind at the moment.

“Tell me if the paint is too cold for you,” you say, moving to create some sort of base on his back.

“I think I can handle it, Y/N” Nolan deadpans. 

You start to think about Nolan and the thing he loves most, painting a forest in the back that looked like the one at lake you’d both spent your summers at. You painted evergreen trees and a glimpse of the lake in the corner. Quite frankly, by the time you were done you were proud of yourself.

“Take a picture, I want to see,” Nolan says.

You grab your phone, snapping a photo and tossing it to Nolan, “This is sick, you should really draw me something to get tattooed.”

“You don’t trust me that much,” You say, glancing at the photo on your screen, “Can I post this on my Instagram story?”

You ask, you always did. Nolan was a private person, and you knew he liked it that way. It was better than having to deal with him when he was grumpy.

“Go for it,” Nolan smiles, “I should probably head out.”

“Don’t sleep with that on your back,” You scold, watching Nolan as he goes to climb out the window of your bedroom, “Use the door, we’re adults Nolan.”

“I’ll be fine,” Nolan assures you, climbing down just like he used to when you’d hang out all night instead of sleeping.

You clean up your brushes and paint, trying to shove the feelings about the way Nolan’s back muscles moved under your touch to the back of your mind, to be locked up forever. You slide into bed, checking your phone to see only one notification, a DM from TK.

Tell me that’s Nolan

--

With summer came a various string of weekends up at the lake with your friends. The older you’d gotten, the more fun the weekends had become. You were all almost adults, just riding out one of the last summers together, and you all decided to rent out the house you usually did, cause it might be one of the last times you do. You sat in the passenger seat of Nolan’s jeep, just like you always did. Your coffee in one hand, and Nolan’s phone in the other, mindlessly changing the songs for the ride. You glance over at Nolan, the roof was off his jeep, and his hair had hit the morning light just right. He looked good, he always did.

“Did you really have to tell TK that was me in your story? He hasn’t stopped making fun of me for days,” Nolan says, looking at you.

“You guys spend so much time together, I think he just knew,” You say, knowing they’re basically a married couple at this point.

Nolan shakes his head, turning up the street to the lake house. You spot all the cars that were already there, knowing you and Nolan had to have been the last people to arrive. You run inside, leaving Nolan to grab your bag out the trunk, running right into Kacey’s arms.

“Don’t be mad at me,” Kacey says, pulling back, “I miscounted and there’s one room left so you and Nolan are going to have to bunk up.”

Nolan walks in during Kacey’s sentence, “That’s fine, which one is it.”

Kacey points to the room upstairs, Nolan nodding, your bags already in his hands to bring upstairs. You turned to Kacey when he was out of earshot, “You did this on purpose.”

“If rooming together is all it would take to get you guys together, it’s not the rooming together it’s the fact that you guys are obsessed with each other,” Kacey says.

“Best friends, we are best friends,” You defended, you knew better though. Something was shifting between the two of you, but you didn’t know if it was from getting older or if it was something more.

Kacey shakes her head at you while you head up to your room, Nolan unpacking his stuff.

“You’re okay sharing a room?” you ask, knowing you could bunk with Kacey if you really had to.

“I’m fine with it, I’m going to go fishing with the boys for a bit, I’ll see you after?” Nolan says, stopping at the bedroom.

“No I’m actually going to go home,” you say sarcastically, unpacking your own bags.

You spend the rest of the afternoon next to the lake, getting a tan and day drinking with Kacey and the rest of your girlfriends. You guys head inside, setting up for the party you were throwing for the rest of your friends who’d been up at the lake too. You get dressed for the silly tourist theme you’d planned, tucking the terrible Hawaiian shirt you’d bought into the jean shorts you were wearing. Nolan pops out behind you and you take in his outfit, the shorts that hit above his knee, showing off his thigh tattoo, the Hawaiian shirt that matches yours, and his god awful mid calf socks. He had his vans on - and of course they were untied.

“You have the worst taste in fashion,” You laugh, Nolan striking a pose in response.

“Sorry we’re all not you, I can’t make this shirt look good,” Nolan says, poking at your sides gently, causing you to blush.

He walked out of the room and you took a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts. It was now or never with your feelings, you either had to tell him or you had to just get over him but you couldn’t keep pushing them down, it was going to drive you crazy. You move down to the party, seeing it’s in full swing already. You grab a drink, moving to go play drinking games with Kacey. After a few hours, you were a little buzzed but mostly sweating from the heat inside. You step out, walking over to the docks and staring out at the lake in front of you. You hear heavy footsteps behind you, and you knew it had to be Nolan.

“Needed a minute?” Nolan asks, knowing you would disappear from parties from time to time, and you nod because he was always right.

“Nols, can I ask you something?” You ask, your voice small, a tiny amount of courage guiding you to ask him a question that’d you wanted to ask since he got home, “Do things feel different between us?”

“Do you want them too?” Nolan asks, looking over at you with rosy cheeks, and a nervous look in his eyes.

“So badly,” You whisper, looking into his eyes that had gone soft at your words. Nolan leans in and you stop him for a moment, “Nolan this has to mean something to you too.”

“Everything, it means everything,” Nolan says finally, planting a kiss on your lips, your bodies molding together out on the dock underneath a twinkly night sky. It felt so right for your lips to be on his, your hands running through your hair, and hearing him finally say that he felt the same you have.

“So Philly?” Nolan asks, finally pulling away, the question he asked you when he first got home still burning.

“We’ll talk later,” You promise, stealing another kiss from his lips.

[plotbunniesattack]

Not Okay

Dear Diary,

Go fuck yourself. Just kidding. I don't know what to write in this stupid thing...

My name is Castiel Novak. I’m a pretty average 16-year-old white dude, and if I'm being perfectly honest- I’m 100% okay with that.

My family relocated to Kansas, two years ago, abandoning city life for corn as far as the eye can see… My dad always liked to move around a lot. He was a writer, but he’d get really jittery if we ever settled down somewhere long enough to get too much mail.

Ms Barnes, the school psychologist, thinks keeping a diary will help me get better at controlling my moods. Ever since my dad died last year, I can't seem to keep my temper under control. I mean, I try to, like all the time- I try. But anger always seems to find me at the most inopportune moments, despite any of my attempts- even when everyone else around is just chilling out, minding their own business or whatever.

My best friend, Dean, is a total badass. Normally, I don't think he would have chosen me as a friend, but we met in the principal's office on a serendipitously awful Monday morning when we were both under duress. I was late that day because… I sometimes just lose giant chunks of time. And while this is understandably inconvenient for scheduled activities such as high school, it's how I’ve always been, so I’m less than motivated to ‌change.

Dean was late too, but for him it was because he’d gotten into some kind of mysterious altercation. He had noticeably purple bruising all down his left side. Although the bodily trauma was only visible around his chin, based on how he was standing there- shoulders angled and kind of cradling himself, it was obvious that his discomfort was more centrally located somewhere under his clothes.

To this day I’m not sure which was more painful- me bearing witness to the extent of Dean’s unexplainable injuries or the unpleasantness of overhearing a teacher berate a student over something so clearly beyond their own control. In the hallway afterwards, I cried from seeing him cry and we sort of had a moment.

Then later on Dean was with me the day I found out about my dad- He hugged me real tight, and then kept holding onto me when I couldn't manage to stop myself from getting low key hysterical. Other guys probably would have gotten weirded out by all of my emotions- but not Dean. Anyway, since then, he always seems to know how to keep me laughing even when all I want to do is fade out of existence.

***

My mom works at a diner, so Dean, and I usually hang out there after school. His younger brother is friends with mine and they do homework there together sometimes. Dean and I mostly talk about horror movies, stupid comic books and whatever's been on TV. His dad is a raging alcoholic, but I think it helps Dean to have someplace safe to be when he doesn't know what he’ll find at home. From what both he and Sam had already let slip in the car on the ride from school, today seemed like more of the same.

“So she walks into the garage to pay and I'm like, ‘Hey, I'm Dean, I think we go to the same school?’” Dean says, around an overfull mouth of fries.

“Wait, this is Lisa...Braeden?” I ask, feeling suddenly panicked.

I guess I must've zoned out because I was definitely clueless ‌how our once easy going conversation had abruptly morphed onto the topic of girls.

“Yeah, she’s on the cheer squad and get this, she asked me to homecoming.”

“Wait, and... and you accepted?”

“Yep!” Dean said, over articulating the ‘P’ sound before licking his lips and winking suggestively.

Over the summer, Dean had traded in the last of his boyish puppy fat for endlessly toned muscles and several new inches of height. So it wasn't a huge surprise that people, like busty pom-poms for brains, Lisa Braeden, were going to take notice, eventually.

“So, are you guys, like, together now or something?” I asked, trying to sound innocent.

“I mean, we haven't put a label on it yet, but… I really like her, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Sure- yeah, I get it.” I said unsuccessfully, trying to hide my awkwardness and general disgust with the subject.

“Could you just give her a chance, Cas? Anyway, there's gotta be someone at school that you like, too, right?”

“I don't know. I haven't really thought about it.” I said honestly.

“Well, think about it dude, then we could all go to homecoming together, like an awesome double date thing.”

‘An awesome double date thing’? Who the fuck was this guy sitting across from me and what the hell has he done with the real Dean Winchester? My mind began to spiral then, and I didn't even notice until the lady of the hour herself was flinging her arms around Dean’s shoulders, having invited herself into our booth.

“Hey, babe.” Dean said in a sappy voice that I was wholly unfamiliar with.

“Hey! Sorry I'm late, cheer practice ran overtime today.” Lisa said, running her fingers lustfully through Dean’s hair while ignoring me completely.

“No worries, it's all good, babe.” Dean said again with the stupid voice before kissing Lisa on the cheek for a little bit too long.

Fortunately, they were able to stop themselves and remember that I was still there long enough to stave off my gag reflex, even if only temporarily.

“Hey, there Cas.” Lisa says like we were all good friends.

I nodded back at her because it was the polite, socially acceptable thing to do. All the while ignoring how my insides felt heavy with a steadily growing sensation of white hot rage.

“Hey, I've got some cash. You want a burger or something, Lisa?” Dean asked, effectively ending my angry trance.

“Yeah, sure, that would be awesome, babe. Thanks,” Lisa said blowing Dean stupid air kisses as he walked away from us to get food.

“Dean’s so great, isn't he?” Lisa said, adjusting her cleavage absentmindedly.

“Hey, like, don’t take this the wrong way, Cas, but do you ever smile?”

Jesus fucking Christ, who does Lisa think she is? ‘Do you ever smile’ what kind of archaic bullshit question is that? What kind of person can’t read the room and take a freaking hint! I wish she would just stop talking and wipe that smug ass smile off her perfect, stupid face.

“Not today, I guess.”

Just then, as Dean returned with a full tray of food, Lisa’s nose spontaneously gushed red and then there was blood everywhere.

“Oh, fuck.” Lisa says, grabbing her nose.

“Are you okay?” Dean says, handing Lisa a mass of napkins while also looking like a scared baby deer caught in oncoming headlights.

“Yeah, fine. Give me a minute, okay. I probably just hit my head during cheer practice or something?”

Shockingly, Lisa’s impromptu nose hemorrhage ended our food adjacent gathering. Dean offered to drive Lisa home, she accepted and before I could blink I was all alone again.

***

Dear Diary,

Today, I almost convinced myself that I made Lisa Braeden's nose bleed with my mind. What the fuck is even wrong with me? I seriously need to chill the hell out because I am definitely not losing my best friend just because he’s dating a cheerleader. I'm happy for Dean, he only deserves good things and if dating Lisa Braeden makes him happy, then I guess I’ll just find a way to be okay with it…

My walk back home wasn't nearly as eventful as what had transpired at the diner, but I was grateful for the quiet contemplation time all the same.

“Oh, hey there, Cas!” said a voice behind me.

Looking up from my thoughts, I found myself face to face with Charlie Bradbury.

“Umm, hey.” I said.

Charlie is about the same age as me and lives a couple of houses away on the same street. Her parents had been homeschooling right up until the beginning of the current school year, when her mom dramatically served her dad with divorce papers. After a brief hostage situation and intervention from several local police officers, Charlie’s dad agreed to surrender and, to the best of my knowledge, hadn't been back since.

The cool thing about Charlie is that despite our whole town knowing everything about the sensitive inner workings of her home situation, she has somehow remained the master of zero fucks. Whereas, comparatively, I overthink everything and default towards feeling shitty about myself most of the time.

“Can I walk with you?” Charlie asked, reaching behind her head to twist her fiercely red hair into a flawless bun.

“Sure. Why not?” I said, because really, why the fuck not.

We walk quietly for a couple paces as I wrack my brain for something- anything cool to say and come up with nothing. Just as it hits me how horribly lame, boring and unprepared for basic everyday shit like conversations I am, Charlie saves the day with random small talk.

“Uh... so, Louden Swain, am I right?”

Tilting my head to gawk at her, my cluelessness becoming palatable until Charlie explains herself without needing to be prompted.

“Louden Swain. Do you like their music?” Charlie asks.

“That's a... terrible name for a band.” I say without stopping to think about how potentially offensive I sound.

“Nah. It's kind of perfect, actually.” Charlie says.

She pauses walking and stares up at me point blank, like she’s searching my soul for something that I already know doesn't exist.

“Well, I have 'em on vinyl... limited edition, if you wanna... come over, and we can listen sometime.”

Oh, wow, is this what it feels like to be asked out on a date?

“Also, we could get high.” Charlie adds with a smile.

“Uh yeah, maybe.” I say, already sensing an unwelcome warmth flushing my face as panic gathers beneath my ribs simultaneously .

“I mean, you don't have to. We just live so close to each other, and we've never really hung out before.”

“Uh, no… we haven't hung out together. But um, we totally should. Do that.” I say in the most convoluted way possible. But it ends up being okay because Charlie smiles at me again. Then she nods like she actually understands whatever the hell I was babbling about and casually heads back home, sparing me any additional embarrassment.

***

Home has been pretty stressful lately because Mom and I haven't been getting along at all. Without fail, every interaction between us has become increasingly frustrating, so I don’t know why I always expect things to somehow magically change by themselves.

“Castiel, is that you?” Mom asks as I shut our front door, and I'm already aware of all the unspoken tensions in her voice.

“Nope. I’m a serial killer. Good thing you asked.”

“That’s hilarious, Castiel- Hey. So apparently, Karen's dog got run over and she had to go to an emergency vet. I'm going to pick up her shift tonight, which is fine 'cause I owe her two shifts from the time Gabriel ate all that candy.” Mom says in a hurried breath while also revisiting that time I’d accidentally given my brother so much sugar that he’d made himself sick.

“Well, thanks for telling me your life story, Mom.” I say, struggling to conceal all of my angst beneath countless layers of curated teenage snark.

“No. Wait, come back here. I'm not done yet, Castiel! You need to promise me ‌ you'll make sure Gabe does his homework and gets dinner?”

“Isn't he old enough to get himself dinner?” I say, feeling anger rise into my throat and threaten everything.

“Castiel, could you please, just this once, help me out without questioning every little thing?” Mom says as though she is baiting me and offering me an out at the same time.

“Yes, fine, whatever you want.”

***

Dear Diary,

I think mom and I could sit in silence for the rest of our lives, and she'd still find a way to annoy the living crap out of me. The thing about mom is that she’s really good at being a total bitch sometimes. It comes on with no warning at all and I never get the feeling, at least as it concerns me, that she’s even trying all that hard on her end to stop it.

Dad would have without a doubt understood me better than mom does. But since he went and hung himself, I guess I'm on my own now. Frequently, I wonder why he did it, and why we never talk about it… and what the hell is going on with me. Why sometimes I feel like I'm boiling inside. Maybe this is all just me being way more fucked up than either mom or dad could have ever imagined…

[rqgnarok]

moments in between - aaron hotchner

fandom: criminal minds

words: 2618

warnings: couple of smooches and mention of private times, spoilers for season 4 through 9 ish of criminal minds, that’s about it. female!reader

summary: being an fbi agent leaves little to no moments to enjoy someone else’s company. hotch and the reader make it work. BASED ON A CONVERSATION PRENTISS AND HOTCH HAVE IN 04X09.

author’s note below

“(Y/N)?” 

“Yeah, I’m decent,” she smiles to herself when she takes her eyes off the tiny mirror in the locker assigned to her, watches her boyfriend lean against the door frame. 

It only takes one look at him for (Y/N) to know he’s stuck in that I’m-your-coworker-but-I-really-want-to-be-your-boyfriend-right-now state Hotch gets into sometimes when they’re at work but alone or hours deep into the night and still working the case.

He just stands there for a moment, admires her in silence but in the way that makes her feel appreciated from a distance, a look in his eyes which (Y/N)’s used being under the scrutiny of, makes her feel recognized and safe when there’s no possibility of physical contact. 

She’s done with her make up for the undercover stunt they’re about to pull and her hair is fixed in that careless yet neat way he really, really likes, the way it was the night he kissed her for the first time after a night out with the team and he’d insisted on driving her home.

Hotch remembers that night so clearly, if he closes his eyes can picture himself back in his car, the steering wheel under his hands and the street lamps being the only source of light that catches (Y/N)’s profile when he sneaks a look or two. 

By that point he’d lost all self-restraint and after months of fighting with himself about his feelings his head finally quieted the hell up the moment she reached for the lapel of his jacket and pulled him to her, kissing him with the car’s console in the middle of their bodies and his hands on her hair, keeping her close as if she’d have any intentions of letting him go.

That was almost a year after his divorce with Haley, and though he’d been hesitant on following up with a relationship in a time Hotch felt too soon since he’d signed those divorce papers, he’d been tired of being the one who always followed the rules and did things right only to end up alone. Either in an apartment away from his family or in his office, closer to the next morning than the previous night and working on reports until the words blurred in the pages and he was too tired to drive home at all.

Hotch was tired and he wanted (Y/N) so, so badly, he figured one night of self-indulgence was more than deserved after the year he’d had. Except one night turned into a weekend and one time turned into spending time together whenever they had the time off at the same time and it wasn’t his turn to take Jack for the week. Hotch and sir and bossman turned into Aaron, babe and handsome, and in return Hotch became familiar with the feeling of (Y/N), (Y/N/N), honey and sweetheart against his tongue.

The transition between using those nicknames and thinking of Haley to his mind blanching until nothing but (Y/N) remained was easier than Hotch had expected it to be. The guilt of thinking he’d somehow replaced his ex-wife was short lived, the first weeks into his and (Y/N)’s relationship realizing that he saw them as two different women who occupied two very different portions in his life.

It wouldn’t be until after Haley died, much, much after that they would come forward and share the existence of their relationship with HR, and along with them, Strauss. It would easier by then, and the right choice to make, considering that around the first time they’d gotten together Erin seemed to be out for blood, which included Hotch’s job as unit chief and following his every move to catch him in something that could might as well signify the end of his career, if presented to his superiors correctly.

By the time they’ll decide to disclose, Erin and Rossi themselves will be somewhat involved, and after her troubles with alcoholism she would’ve become a more understanding woman of other people’s flaws along with her own. She’ll have them both under scrutiny for a couple of months until she deems them professional enough to keep working in the same unit, and that would be that.

“10 minutes and I’m ready to go,” she assures him, still working the case but smile soft when directed at him. He leaves his spot against the frame of the door to close it behind him and lock it, just in case and, if needed, under the excuse that she’d needed the privacy to change into the clothes she’ll be wearing at the club. With him in the room, well. Here’s to hoping to one saw him come in.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” He’s still frowning but it's more concern than the usual façade he hides behind when they’re working a case, and he’s slightly comforted by the fact that (Y/N)’s smile remains full on her face, sure and trusting.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she reassures. Now that the door’s closed and locked she’s stripping out of her clothes, nothing sensual about her movements but Hotch can’t help but to stare anyways. He wishes they weren’t having this conversation with his girlfriend in her underwear. Aaron Hotchner is a responsible man, but he is a man, nevertheless. “Sadly, I’ve actually dated people worse than Viper.”

“Thank God that’s over,” he manages to joke. (Y/N) laughs and he quits eyeing her figure just so he can watch her do so, enchanted by the way her features accentuate her laughter lines. He’s in deep, and just for a moment he pictures her getting ready for one of their dates instead of an undercover op he didn’t want to send her to in the first place.

It’s not that he’s jealous because he isn’t, at least not of Viper, but Hotch’s seen what undercover jobs do to agents like her: smart and capable and pretty, even though this is nothing like what Elle was forced to work on before she disappeared without a trace. He also knows that (Y/N)’s lived through worse circumstances herself out of the job, and this is more of a gathering intel kind of operation instead of something more dangerous, but, still. 

Hotch’s not comfortable with sending his team into situations they do not feel prepared for, whether he’s romantically involved with them or not. He’s gotta ask. He can’t send another person he cares about into the lion’s den knowing they might not be tough enough to come back.

“Is something going on with Jordan?” (Y/N) brings him back down to earth easily, making conversation as she gets into her dress and Hotch walks the couple of steps he’s missing to reach her and give her his arm to hold onto as she works herself into it. “You, um, you asked me to keep an eye on her. And frankly, if you didn’t think we’d notice the tension going of off her in waves then you really underestimate us as profilers.”

“I… caught her in a lie,” Aaron grimaces at the recollection of their first visit to the Holden family, how Jordan had no problem to manipulate her way into the mind of the victim’s sister and her inability to realize how what she had done had been wrong, way off in how Hotch leads this team. “She cut a corner to get us in with the Holden family.”

“Did she misrepresent the Bureau?” (Y/N)’s expression sours momentarily, and she squeezes Hotch’s arm she was holding onto in thanks when she finishes fitting into her dress.

“She misinterpreted herself.”

“So, how long is she gonna be in the doghouse?” (Y/N) asks, turning around so her back is facing Hotch, who allows himself a moment to look at the skin of her shoulders and lower back before he’s slowly zipping the dress up. One hand on her semi naked shoulder holding her still and the other one working its way up her back, fingers steady and certain.

“Until she proves she’s competent,” he sighs, feeling awfully like the father of a teenage girl out of control, which, isn’t really freaking fair cause he’s got almost ten years before he has to deal with this coming from Jack. (Y/N) hums, trying to come off as indifferent, but Aaron has made himself familiar with every movement and sound of hers, he knows better than to think she’s letting the topic go. An eyebrow raises, hands on her waist when she turns around to meet his eye. “What?”

“That’s gonna be tricky if you’re scrutinizing her every move,” she challenges, and Hotch half scoffs half chuckles as he reaches her to keep himself busy, making sure the dress fits right, putting some of her hair back in place even though he knows it’s gonna come back to its spot as soon as he lets go.

“You seem to do alright, sweetheart,” he can’t help it, the nickname familiar on his mouth and, really, he’d opened that door in the first place when he came into the room asking for her and using her first name instead of her last, has been watching her and touching her ever since he came in, expecting a reaction from her just like the one she’s giving him now. (Y/N)’s arms are around his neck, their chests touching, faces close, he can smell her favorite perfume on her and almost taste the sweetness of her lipstick in his own mouth.

“Yeah, well, I’m sleeping with you, hotshot,” she disses him easily, clutching him a little tighter when his hands go from her waist to her hips, big enough to hold her completely and in place, her heart fluttering against her ribcage with affection for this hunk of a man. He smirks, almost knowing of the effect Hotch has on her and soon enough it’ll soften into a soft, fond grin that she’ll get cavities from just looking at it. “I hope you aren’t planning on using the same methods on her as you did on me, cause if you do then we might just have some disagreement on our hands.”

“Methods?” Hotch has to laugh, albeit quickly before he reels himself in. They’re in a private room but just barely, he’s smart enough to lock the door but also to not get too comfortable, forcing himself to remember there’s a reason she’s so well dressed up and its not just for him to undress her slowly later in the privacy of his room. “You make it sound like it’s my fault we ended up in bed together while really you were too busy pursuing me to notice any kind of ‘methods’ I might’ve tried to use on you.”

“Oh, I pursued you?” (Y/N) asks, mouth open in faux shock and embarrassment as she takes one arm off his neck to hit him in the chest, fighting him off a little when he places his own hand on top of hers but gives up quickly enough, fingers toying with his shirt and resting on top of his heart. “You are out of your mind, Aaron Hotchner.”

“You did kiss me first,” he recalls, which, yeah, it’s true, but that doesn’t mean Aaron gets to use it against her. He looks awfully smug when she gives him a deadpan look. It takes years off his face like not many things do, and (Y/N). (Y/N) loves him always, she loves him dark and broody, and sharp and focused but this, this is her favorite. A goof and a tease (Y/N) would give everything so he’s this happy, all the time. “Don’t think I forgot, I didn’t take a single drop of alcohol that night.”

“It’s not like I was drunk, either, you ass,” she reprimands, and if she weren’t almost ready to go, looking perfectly composed, Hotch would kiss the pout off of her face with little to no finesse. “Some of us need some liquid courage to do what others wouldn’t do at all, so. If anything, you’ve got me to thank that your methods actually ended up working like you meant them to.”

“Thank you,” he acknowledges, dropping a kiss to the apple of her cheek and another one to her forehead, making sure he doesn’t get in the way of any of her make up. She grins at him, opens her eyes after she’d closed them to soak up his affections and keep the memory of his touch for when she’s out there in the field, flirting with some guy she can barely stand. “I’d kiss you myself right now if you weren’t meant to be on your way, no liquid courage needed.”

“I’ll hold you up on that when we’re back home,” she bites her lip, risking having to reapply her lipstick all over again but worth it when Hotch’s eyes drop from her own and set on her mouth, suddenly darker with something else she really, really likes. “And, I think in order for Jordan to prove she’s good at this job, it’s not gonna happen under a magnifying glass. You’re gonna have to give her the opportunity.”

“You have something in mind?”

Her lips turn up in that satisfied way (Y/N) gets when she’s drop dead sure about something, whether it’s a lead on a case or that she has him wrapped around her finger. Hotch can’t wait for this case to be over, for them to be on the plane back home making eyes at each other and itching for the relief that comes to him when they’re finally alone.

He watches her walk away, out of the room with a sway on her hips, heels accentuating her legs and one last flirty look thrown his way as she turns her head back before she leaves the room for good, softening into a fond curve of the lips and, God. He loves her so, so much, he’s gotta wipe this whipped look off his face before Dave calls him out on it, tries to figure out who’s it for.

He won’t, and neither will the team, for a while. They’re years away from finding out, it won’t be until Hotch ends up in the hospital after the scars from one of his many encounters against Foyet come back to haunt him, leaving him passed out in the middle of a debrief and (Y/N)’s forced to make the trip to work on the case anyways. She frets and worries and breaks the news to the team on the way back while Aaron confesses to Garcia in his hospital room after he wakes up, disoriented from the pain meds and asking where his girlfriend is.

They’ll tease and whistle at them whenever they’re together for the rest of their lives, because they’re children in disguise as full functioning profilers and Hotch and (Y/N) will take it shamelessly. He’ll press a kiss to her head and wrap an arm around her neck while they’re out drinking after a case and (Y/N) will take the hand on her shoulder, nestle closer and flip them off just cause it makes Hotch laugh.

Right now, Aaron shakes his head, smiles to himself and towards the ground, a last couple of moments of bliss before he straightens his posture, leaves the room and meets Rossi in the corner of the precinct that was given to them for the duration of the case.

A couple more hours, he hopes, before they get to go home and he would make true of the promise he’d made.

-

special thanks to @writefasttalkevenfaster, @venusbarnes and @winterscaptain​ for providing so much hotch content that i felt the need to rewatch the show and write this in the matter of like,,, two hours. even if it’s a mess, oop, i always write a shit ton of description and feelings and shit and end up with big ass paragraphs that hurt my eyes. i SWEAR i’m working on that!!!!!

as always, i’d love to hear you guys’ opinions on this and i really hope you liked it, i’m working on a teen wolf work and a legends of tomorrow request next but i’m always open for suggestions or requests :)  

thank you so much for reading! stay home and stay safe,

- e.  

[libsterslobsters]

The Wanton Song

Summary: How do you broach the topic of sex with the 90-something super soldier you've found yourself dating? That's the reader's question. Luckily, she and Bucky are no strangers to awkward conversations...

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!enhanced! Reader

(Reader can see bits and pieces of the future in visions and understands all languages)

Warnings: SMUT, tiny bit of angst, lotsa fluff, maybe some past dub!con if you squint

Author's note: Wow... here I am posting smut on the internet. Never thought that would happen. Tmi, but I'm married, so I have a good amount of sex 🙀 and I actually had a great first time, but some people don't, and that's what I tried to represent. That, and CONSENT!!!! Consent is sexy, y'all. Safe, sane and consensual all day every day.

As always, the reader's name isn't stated so that you can read as a self insert, but I've written so much at this point that I refer to the Reader as Violet in my own mind.

*************************************************

 Life has been going swimmingly these past few months. Better than ever before in fact, or at the very least, better than in a long time. She’s still a fugitive, living life looking over her shoulder, but now she has a steady job, a steady paycheck, and oh yeah, a steady boyfriend. Those three things have never aligned for her before (especially the last one). Overall, she’s pretty happy. But, because she’s her, there’s still a question niggling at the back of her mind.

 The transition from “you’re my only friend” to “we’re together now” went smoothly, helped in part by the fact that Barnes had been at that particular juncture the whole time. From the outside looking in, the only major changes have been the addition of those three simple but very key words and an upping the anti in the cuddles department.

 Speaking of cuddles, that’s a very mild term for what’s going on these days. It starts out innocent enough. The usual location is on the couch at one or the other’s apartment. There hadn’t been much distance between them since that first time where they ended up talking more than watching the movie playing from her laptop, but now, the space is nonexistent. As a general rule, within the first ten minutes, her legs somehow end up over his lap or in some way intertwined with is. The intention is always to pay attention to what’s on the screen but, well, when you’re that close, it would be rude not to snuggle up. And, when the other person looks that damn kissable, it would truly be insulting not to take the plunge.

 Now, considering the angle, one of them has to lean in. Otherwise, it would be awkward. That generally determines who, somewhere from two to ten minutes later, is on top of who. Of course hands wander, and even though it’s understood that the word “no” can be employed at any time and immediately obeyed (not to mention the copious amounts of “Is this okay”’s being asked), she can’t remember a time either of them have said it.

 If she had to attach a term to what comes next, it would be ‘dry humping.’ And then… nothing. It always ends far too soon, leaving her flustered and with her heart racing. At first she thought it was because he simply didn’t want her, but, well, there’s certain physical signs that point to that not being the problem. Her next guess was that he’s simply being respectful. Well, as sweet as that is, she’s ready to get on with it. She’s only human after all, and as such, has needs. Sure, she could take care of them herself, but if she had to guess, he’s experiencing those needs too, and from what she’s heard, it’s more fun to take care of it together.

 The only issue: how the hell do you bring something like this up, especially when the person you’re bringing it up with grew up in a much more repressed era than you did? She’s been debating it for the past week, and despite having multiple visions, none of them have given her that key insight into what to do.

 Finally, she decides to just say it. They’ve made a point to be honest with each other, and it’s probably best to get it out of the way. They’re adults, after all. They can have this discussion. She’s going to come straight out with it.

 “Hey, can I ask you something? It’s kind of personal, and maybe a little uncomfortable.”

 “Sure, Doll.” The response is immediate. “Fire away.”

 Glancing up to make sure they’re not at a pivotal scene in tonight’s movie (they have a system; at his place, watch something he grew up with, at hers, something made literally anytime after 1945), she spits out the whole sentence in one breathless go. “Are we ever going to have sex?”

 It feels like a branding iron where his arm is still wrapped around her shoulder. Still, it’s comforting. At least he’s not moving away.

 “I gotta admit, that’s not the question I was expecting. What brought this on?”

 She shrugs, carefully keeping her eyes trained on the wall behind his head instead of on him.

 “Nothing in particular. Just…” is there a delicate way to put this? “...I think things are going well between us, and sometimes when we’re together… I’ve noticed that there’s a physical response.” She’s really hoping that’ll suffice, because she can’t think of a good way to say “I can feel that you’re hard when you’re on top of me”.

 “Oh.”

 Apparently, her meaning is indeed clear enough, because he removes his arm from her shoulders. She’s about to apologize (all the while mentally berating herself) when his hand closes over hers.

 “I’m sorry about that, Doll. I’ll try to stay calmer.” Wait, that’s not- “It’s just an issue guys have. Don’t think it means you have to do anything that you don’t want to, because I would never-”

 “I know you wouldn’t.” Without thinking, she cuts him off. “And I want to.” It feels like she’s sitting in a sauna, she’s so flustered from this conversation. “But only if you do, and I understand if you didn’t-”

 “No.” It’s abrupt, cutting her off. A definite answer that leaves no room for questioning. “No, I do. I just-” He clears his throat. “-I didn’t want to bring it up, in case we weren’t on the same page. “ This seems to be a recurring theme, so far. “And it’s not a must. If you change your mind-”

 It’s pure instinct. There’s no thought involved as she closes the gap between them, this time with her on top, and presses  her lips against his. The response is immediate and enthusiastic. She considers just going on, not putting a stop to things, but realization hits that, although overall she’s ready for this to happen, she’s not ready for it to happen tonight. There’s still things she needs to take care of. Most importantly, protection.

 So, gasping for breath, she pulls away. “I’m calling for a rain check, but if after that, you still think I’ll change my mind-” she pushes back her hair and forces herself to take a deep breath. “-then you may just be beyond help, Barnes.” If the chuckle is anything to judge from, she’s made her point.

_________________________________________________________________________________

 Wow. Bucky thinks to himself as he exits out of the browser tab on his phone. That’s enough internet for one day. Too much, actually. He knows that it’s the information superhighway, but good god, no one needs THAT much information. He really needs to be more specific with what he googles… or less… or just not at all.

 He’d never admit it (and really, who the hell is gonna ask him anyway), but he spent the last hour looking up how to have sex. He’s engaged in the act before, yeah, but it was seventy years ago. Plus, it used to be this huge taboo thing that you suspected was going on behind closed doors, but no one (not even the married couples) owned up to it. If you were ever found out, there were severe consequences. As a man, he didn’t have to worry as much, but if whoever the woman was had her dirty laundry aired… oh boy. She’d be a pariah, a “scarlet woman”, unfit for marriage or to even give the time of day. That led to limited encounters, and, well, it just seemed smart to brush up on what information is out there. As it turns out, people have written a lot about the fine art of love making. Unfortunately for him, most of it is absolute garbage. Some of the positions he just read about (because at that point, the article was like a train wreck; he badly wanted to look away, but he couldn’t) don’t even sound possible, much less pleasurable. He’s all for society being freer, but good grief!

 He’s halfway through a bottle of straight vodka (it won’t have any effect, but he’s hoping maybe the alcohol will travel to his brain and sanitize his eyeballs from most of the shit he just read) when his phone rings. Great. He’s always happy to talk to her, but right now… wow. It’s gonna take him some time to recover, so he hopes she doesn’t need him to say much.

 “Hey, Doll.”

 “I am so fucking pissed off right now.” That sounds promising.

 “At what?”

 “The city of Bucharest, my apartment, the landlord, whoever the fuck did the plumbing in this building! God!” She’s clearly out of breath, so it takes a minute before she can speak again. “I’m sorry, Buck. It’s just that I came home from work, and one of my neighbors told me the entire sixth floor is under a good inch, inch and a half of water.” Wait-

 “How-”

 “I don’t know. Busted pipe. It’s leaked down onto the fifth floor, so I’ve got about fifty other pissed off people for company.”

 “Jesus.” 

 She chuckles harshly. “Yeah, we could use him right about now to perform a miracle. This is a shit show, and I haven’t even told you the best part.”

 “So the spontaneous flood wasn’t the highlight of your day?”

 “I fucking wish! So, naturally, I tried to call the landlord, along with basically everyone else. Get this: since it’s after five o’clock on a Friday, he’s not gonna do anything. Told us collectively to suck it up! And of course, when there’s a leak, they have to cut the power…” He’s starting to see a pattern here.

 She sighs. “I really needed to get that off my chest. How are you?” Still slightly weirded out by the information overload, but feeling a little more steady now that he’s got a good catastrophe to concentrate on. However, that’s probably not the best answer to go with.

 “Better than you are.”

 “What, the sky isn’t falling where you are?” He chuckles.

 “No, it’s right where it’s supposed to be.”  Which reminds him… “But since it seems like you’re short a functional home, why don’t you just stay here until they sort things out?” He’s got a couch that, while it doesn’t have anything on an actual bed, he can manage to sleep on for the next few nights. Or maybe they can share his bed. He shakes his head. That thought needs to be put to the side, even if it’s meant in the most innocent way possible. Of course, in case she decides to cash in that rain check…

 “Yes. I mean, that would be great, if you’re sure.”

 “I’m sure.” Actually, he can’t think of a better way to spend the weekend. The plan was to meet up either Saturday or Sunday, possibly both, so this isn’t that far out of the ordinary.

 “Okay, but just a warning: They’re not letting us go up to our floor in case there’s been electrical damage as well-” That’s smart. If the pipes are in that bad of condition, who knows what the wiring looks like. “-so all I have is my purse, backpack, and what I wore to work. No toothbrush or pajamas, or anything like that.”

 “That’s alright. All you have to bring is yourself.” He’ll have to look, but he’s pretty sure he has something in his closet that’ll work okay for her until she gets the all clear to go into her apartment. Plus, there’s a laundry mat just around the corner, not to mention a pharmacy.

 “Thank you. I really appreciate it.” 

 “Not a problem.” He glances at his bedside clock. Five thirty-four. It takes roughly half an hour to get across the city by bus, so… “I’ll see you around six fifteen?”

 “See you then.”

 As soon as the line goes dead, he springs into action. First thing’s first: make sure there’s no dirty clothes, old dishes, or trash laying around. That takes all of five minutes. He should probably check that he does indeed have something she can wear so they won’t have to fumble around later. Tshirts are pretty universal and… yes, he has a few pajama bottoms that have a drawstring waist. How much time does he have left? The phone screen lights up, giving him his answer. Twenty-seven minutes. More than enough time to run around the corner and pick up a few things.

 His intention is to buy the basics: spare toothbrush, deodorant, hairbrush, maybe a different shampoo than his three-in-one body wash (it’s convenient for him, but she might prefer something designated for hair specifically). But, well, there’s quite a few aisles, and he gets sucked in. Does he need to buy razors, or is that rude, like he thinks she’s hairy? What about aspirin? How often do most people get headaches? He honestly can’t remember. 

 By the time he realizes that he really needs to get a move on, his basket is full and he has no idea what aisle he’s on. Desperately, he looks around, and his eyes land on… huh. So they just have them out in the open these days. Last time he was in the market for that, he had to beg a married friend to make the purchase for him. He briefly wonders if he’ll need to produce proof of marriage or something similar, but pushes the thought to the side. It’s the 2000s. He can probably just go up to the register and pay, and no one will give him a second look. But there’s just one problem: which brand? He should google… suddenly remembering his adventure from earlier today, he decides to just go with his gut and pick one. There. Now, he needs to pay and get the fuck out of here because there’s only ten minutes left, and he’d rather not have these out in the open, in case she thinks that’s the reason he’s asked her to stay over. If it happens, great. If not… well, he’s made it for the past seventy years. What’s a few more?

___________________________________________________________________________________

 She was still pretty shaken up when she arrived at his apartment, carrying her backpack and purse, slightly damp from the drizzle of rain now covering the city. But immediately receiving a long hug, being instructed to make herself at home, and hearing the offer to take a shower so she could warm up did a lot to restore her good mood.

 It was one of the sweetest thing she’s ever experienced in a lifetime where most people have showed her their worst, going into that bathroom and finding a new toothbrush, stick of deodorant, nail clippers, hairbrush, and even shampoo. That and Barnes bashfully informing her that, “I’ll stay in the living room until you’re done. Take your time.” She almost suggested that he just join her in an attempt to broach the subject they left off on two nights ago, but thought better of it. She’s just started to strip when a knock comes from the other side of the wall.

 “Sorry. I just remembered that I forgot to give you a change of clothes. Can I leave them outside the door?” A smile forms on her face.  

 “Sure. Go ahead.” No one’s given this much thought to her comfort or boundaries before. Yet another reason she knows this is the right decision.

 She doesn’t stay in the shower for long, just enough time to wash and stop shivering. After toweling off and brushing out her hair, she cracks open the door. Sure enough, a worn but clean tshirt and pair of pajama bottoms are waiting for her. The familiar scent of the laundry detergent he uses envelopes her as she dresses and, at long last, leaves the safety of the bathroom.

 True to his word, he’s still sitting on the couch, thumbing through a book she gave him some months back (he’s missed so many feats of literature that have made their way into pop culture; today’s choice is The Hobbit because, while it was out before everything happened to him, he’s never read it) when she emerges. Just in case he’s so absorbed that he hasn’t heard her, she repeats his gesture from earlier and knocks softly on the wall.

 “Hey. I’m out. You can have your apartment back.”

 “Hey.” That smile always makes her feel slightly unsteady on her feet. “Find everything okay?”

 “I did.” She settles into the place next to him. “Thank you, by the way. You didn’t have to go out and get supplies.”

 “I know.” He nods, hand closing around hers. “But I wanted to make sure you had whatever you needed.”

 They chat for a while about their days, discuss what they should do with the weekend ahead, even throw out ideas for dinner. The entire time, she’s trying to figure out the best way to bring up that she’d really like to finish what they started the other night. However, by the time he’s left to grab some sort of takeout, she’s still no closer to an answer.

 Fortunately, their dates usually follow a pattern. Food, a movie, and then the not-so-innocent cuddles. This time, he’s on top of her when she feels the tell-tale sign that he’s as fired up as she is, so she suggests,

 “Do want to maybe move to somewhere more comfortable?” His already dilated pupils grow even larger, and he nods.

 “Yeah. That sounds like a plan.” She waits for him to roll off of her and head towards the bedroom before she grabs her purse and, digging around inside, grabs one of the foil packages she bought after their last date.

 It’s only once she closes the door behind her, shutting them into an enclosed space with a bed (not to mention it’s pretty damn clear what both of their intentions are), that nerves get the better of her.  He takes a step towards her, and she leans up to kiss him, but he ducks his head out of the way.

 “You’re shaking.” His hand ghosts over her arm, making it obvious that, by comparison, she’s practically vibrating on the spot.

 “Sorry.” She chuckles nervously. “It’ll pass.”

 “It’s alright.” As he says it, he meets her eyes. “We can stop. Nothing has to happen.”

 “I know.” She nods, swallowing hard. “But I want it to.” Their lips briefly meet before he pulls away again.

 “Let me ask you, just before we get started, is this-” He stops short, eyes darting from her face to the wall and back again. “...have you… before?” Oh. “Not that it matters, not to me, I just wanted to know so that-”

 “I have.” She nods, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. “Once. I was eighteen, and-” It was awful. She’d been seeing the guy for a few months and he kept whining about her not putting out, so she decided to get it over with. He went in dry without any warning, and when she asked him to stop, give her a second to adjust, he told her he couldn’t. She was bleeding and in pain for days afterwards, and to top it off, when her period was late, she thought that, even though he’d pulled out, she was pregnant. That turned out not to be the case, but it, along with the fact that she usually doesn’t stay in one place for very long, has put a damper on her ever wanting to do that again. Except for now. “-it wasn’t a great experience.”

 “I’m sorry.” On instinct, she searches for the judgment in his face, the disgust. It’s nowhere to be found, only genuine sympathy. “I’ll do my best to make sure this time is better. That is, if you’re still up to it.”

 “I am.” Not waiting for a reply, she wraps her arms around him and starts trailing kisses up his neck towards his ear. “I am. I trust you.” She hears his breath catch, but before she can comment, he’s hoisted her up and is carrying her in the direction of the bed.

 As he sets her down, she pulls him on top of her, letting her hands wander over his sides, up his back. After a few moments, she feels his fingers move from her hips to toy with the hem of her… his.. shirt.

 “Is this okay? Can I take this off?” She starts to nod, but remembers just in time that he’s so close, they’d butt heads.

 “Please.” She expected to feel exposed once she was at least partially undressed, but instead she feels… adored. His eyes are roaming over her newly exposed skin, though his hands have respectfully returned to her waist. In a moment of confidence, she reaches behind her and unhooks her bra. There. Now she’s completely shirtless.

 “You’re so beautiful.” The flush from her cheeks is spreading down her neck, but she still smiles.

 “Care to make things even?” It’s brief, but she catches the look of hesitation.

 “Sure.” Before she can offer to do it, he shrugs his shirt over his head, revealing to her, for the first time, the entirity of his metal arm. She must look for a moment too long, because with a shrug, he informs her, “I can put my shirt back on. No big deal. I know there’s some scarring…” That’s not going to fly. She needs to reassure him, make him feel as desired as he’s made her feel.

 “Or if you want to stop-” She stands and, after briefly making eye contact, places a kiss on the most prominent scar.

 “Don’t you dare think that way for a second.” They’re flush against each other, chest to bare chest. “Not for one.” Slowly, she slides her hands from his shoulders down to his waist, hesitating just over the button. “Is this okay?” Another shakey breath.

 “Yes.”

 Going forward, it’s much less awkward. The rest of their clothing is shed, and soon they’re back to their previous position; on the bed, with him on top of her. She feels his fingertips brush the inside of her thigh and gasps.

 “May I touch you?” She nods.

 “You’d better.”

 It’s gentle, more of him feeling her out than anything else. Still, she can’t help but think this is infinitely better already than last time around. Suddenly, he pulls his hand away, and it takes all her effort not to whine at the loss of contact. Before she can ask if something’s wrong, does he want to stop, he’s flat on his stomach, head between her legs.

 “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

 “What-” Her breath catches as it becomes infinitely clear what he’s doing.

 Again, she’s expecting pain when, after several minutes he eases a finger into her, but at this point, she’s so wet that there’s absolutely no difficulty.

 “Are you okay?” She nods.

 “Don’t stop.”

 The process is agonizingly slow, he’s so intent on his task. When, finally, he pulls away, she’s so close that she can almost taste it.

 “Do you still want to-”

 “If you don’t stop asking me that, I’m gonna slap you.” It’s a joke, and she thinks he knows it, but just to be sure, she siezes his hand (the metal one, which is usually cold but has now warmed from being held close against her body. “I’m ready, so long as you want this too.”

 “I do. You wouldn’t believe how much.” Yeah, she thinks she would. “Just give me a second.” Perfect timing. He rolls off of her, which gives her the opening she needs to grab the packet she managed to hide under the pillow while he was… otherwise distracted. When he returns from digging inside the wardrobe, she holds it up, only to realize-

 “Oh.” He’s got one as well. “Seems like we both came prepared.”

 He chuckles. “Just in case, although that wasn’t why I asked you to stay.”

 “I know.” She nods and pats the space next to her. “Not why I said yes either, although I can’t say I’m disappointed.”

 He returns to the bed and drops his packet onto the nightstand. “Save this one for later?”

 “Definitely.”

 There is a bit of discomfort once he starts to push inside her, but it’s not painful. Just… overwhelming. Slightly embarassed she asks,

 “Can you wait a second? Please?”

 “Of course. Are you alright?” She shifts her hips slightly, making them both groan.

 “Fine. You can move now.”

 She may have only done this once before, and she has no idea what his experience consists of, but as she hits her peak mere seconds before he does, gently coaxed over the edge, she can’t help but think some things are better the second time around.

 “I love you.” It’s whispered against her neck as, once she cleans up and returns to bed, she settles herself against him.

 “I love you too.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

 The first thing he thinks when he realizes that he’s not alone in bed is that HYDRA’s found him. He’s being activated. His eyes shoot open although apart from that he doesn’t move a muscle, and that’s when he recognizes the person next to him. It’s her. She’s here.

 The events of last night come back to him all at once, and he feels a smile forming on his face. It’s been a while, and in any case, it would be wrong to run a comparison, but what they shared, the pure intimacy of it both physically and mentally was incredible. Maybe he should feel a sense of shame. That’s what he was taught growing up. But instead he feels… peaceful.

 That is, until her eyelids flutter and she rolls over, shifting the covers so that he gets a good view of her still naked body, and with it, the bruises on her thighs and hips. Bruises unmistakably left by his fingers. Dammit. He’s done the last thing he ever wanted to do: he’s hurt her.

 “Good morning, sleepy head.” She yawns, the teasing words muffled. “It seems like we overslept.”

 His mouth goes dry, and all he can manage to choke out is a simple, “Yeah.”

 She frowns, sitting up slightly, and lets out a small groan. “You alright there, Bucky? You look a little off.” The late morning light only serves to highlight more marks he’s left, this time on her shoulders, neck, and breasts. Stubble burn. Hickeys. Why the hell was he so rough? At the time, he thought he was being gentle, but obviously he’s just as much of a monster as Bucky Barnes as he is once the Winter Soldier takes over.

 She’s still staring at him, brow furrowing in concern.

 “Fine.” He clears his throat and begins to sit up. “Stay here. I’ll make you a cup of tea, maybe some oatmeal.”

 “Alright. Don’t be gone too long.”

 Her words follow him out of the room, and into the kitchen. Fuck. He should’ve known better. 

Maybe once upon a time, he was a decent man, one who could be with a woman like  her and not do her a disservice. But now, it’s clear that he falls short in every way. In an act that was supposed to be pure pleasure, a way of communicating how much they mean to each other, he’s hurt her.

 “I trust you.” The words from last night ring in his ears. He shouldn’t have let her. It’s pretty damn obvious that, even at the best of times, he can’t be trusted.

 “Tell me what’s going on.” Even with his enhanced senses, he still jumps in surprise as the unexpected words come from behind him. He turns around slowly, not wanting to startle her. She’s standing there, clad in only one of his shirts, arms crossed over her chest (now bearing his marks), staring him down.

 “Nothing.” He shakes his head.

 “Bullshit. I had a vision of you staring off into space, and here you are, jumpy as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.” At another time, her choice in phrases would make him chuckle, but right now, he can’t muster it.

 “Last night-” Her eyes widen, but she stays silent. “I hurt you.”

 “No, you didn’t. Not at all.”

 “I did.”

 She frowns. “Bucky, I think I’d know if you’d hurt me, and I’m telling you, I’m fine.”

 “Doll, look at yourself!” He reaches out to take her arm, but immediately freezes. “Go in the bathroom and take off your shirt. Take a good look in the mirror and then tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

 “Alright.” Her jaw clenches, and she marches off in the direction of the bathroom. A deep sickness gnaws at the pit of his stomach and, completely worn out, he sinks into a kitchen chair.

 Not thirty seconds pass before she walks back into the room, this time completely undressed.

 “Tell me you’re not talking about a few love bites.”

 “And bruises! You may not have noticed, but they’re in the exact shape of my fingertips.”

 “Oh my god!” She shakes her head. “It’s a sex injury. A minor one at that! If you didn’t heal so damn fast, you’d probably have nail marks all over your back!”

 “That’s not the same thing.”

 “How is it not the same thing?”

 “I’m a monster! And you’re not.”

 She takes a determined step towards him, and he leans as far back as the chair will allow.

 “Bucky, you are not a monster, and I am not afraid of you.”

 “Then you’re stupid.” He hates himself for his sharp words, but she needs to take this seriously. Underestimating how dark, how evil he can be, is a mistake. A deadly one.

 “Hey!”

 “Don’t you get it?” Without any input from his brain, he stands. “They could find me, and with a few words, I could stare you dead in the eyes as I murdered you! If you were my mission, I wouldn’t even hesitate, and you’d be dead before your body hit the floor!” Her mouth falls open, but she immediately closes it again. “This isn’t something that can be worked through with some patience and a positive attitude! I could kill you!”

 “So could a million other things!” Her voice rises in volume, and before he can contain it-

 “But they’re not in the bed sleeping next to you!” He’s shouting at her. God. Everyone is right. He’s beyond saving.

 A few tense seconds pass before she looks up at him, a steely look in her eyes.

 “Look, I get it. I know what you could do to me.” As she speaks, she pulls out a chair and sits. “But I could also get run over when I cross the road, or the room could fill with carbon monoxide while I sleep. I could have an aneurysm and drop before anyone knows what’s happening.”

 He opens his mouth to tell her the likelihood of any of those things happening is far lower than the chance that he’ll hurt her, this time in a major way, but she holds up a hand, silencing him.

 “I’m gonna be cautious, but I’m also not going to live my life in fear that the ceiling is going to collapse or nuclear war is going to strike, or that someone is gonna turn up and say the magic words that make you go cuckoo for cocoa puffs-” What? “-and I just realized you’re too old for that reference.”

 “That’s another thing-” He’s about to remind her exactly how big their age gap is, that although he’s physically close to her age, chronologically, he’s closer to the age of her great grandfather, but she lets out a sudden groan of frustration, and that makes him bite his tongue.

 “Oh, fuck off, Barnes! If you’re about to start in on how you’re too old for me, then I’m not gonna wait for you to go full Winter Soldier before I kick your ass!” Out of all things, that’s what snaps him out of it, makes him feel like maybe, just maybe, there’s still a chance they can make the best of things.

 Smirking, he asks her,

 “You think you could kick my ass? Really?” It must be the breaking point for her too, because she snickers.

 “Of course. It’s the little bitches you have to watch out for.”  That’s it, he’s laughing, nearly doubled over, and from the looks of things, she’s in much the same state.

 “You’re something else, you know that?” He asks between stilted breaths.

 “I think we both fit in that category, Pal.” Her smile fades, but only slightly. “Bucky, if you really want me to go, if that’s what’ll give you peace, then I’ll do it, but I meant what I said. I trust you.” Never. He’ll never want her to go, he’s sure of it. Well then, that only leaves one option.

 “I know what we’re doing today.” It’s an abrupt segue, but it’s the only thing he could come up with on short notice.

 “And what’s that?”  The microwave dings, reminding him that he needs to stir the oatmeal, and he pushes past her.

 “Sit down and have your tea. You’re going to need all your energy if I’m gonna show you how to use a gun.” If she’s staying, then at least he can teach her how to defend herself beyond the basics she already knows.

 “So I guess this means you’re keeping me around for a little while longer?” It’s spoken like a joke, but he turns to her, meeting her eyes to drive the point home.

 “Yeah, Doll. As long as you want me."

[nonbinaryeye]

My dear Jonathan...

Written for @jonahmagnusweek

Day 1 - Letters

It has been years since Jonathan Fanshawe cut all the contact with Jonah Magnus.

Read on AO3

...

Jonathan Fanshawe has never given much thought to his future. There hasn’t been any reason to dwell on it too much; anything can happen any time, there is no point to plan anything; no one can predict what will come. Besides he usually has had much more important things to focus on! There have been so many things he wanted to figure out and discover. There has been his hubris telling him he will be able to. Of course he hasn’t had time to concern himself with his future.

That being said though he never imagined he would end up as a local doctor in small village in the middle of Switzerland. But well… anything did happen indeed.

It has been years since he cut any contact with Jonah Magnus. It has also been years since he left England and if he said he is not missing London he would be lying. But it isn’t that bad. His life now is much more… peaceful. Also more frugal. But that is fine. He can be actually helping people instead of chasing his own ambition. He can do some good for a change.

“Good evening, doctor!” as soon as he enters through the doors his housekeeper Frieda welcomes him. She is a widow and even though she’s somewhere in her sixties she is always full of energy no matter if she is cleaning the house or informing him about newest gossips in all the nearby villages.

“Evening, Frieda.” He gives her a tired smile and hangs his coat on a hanger expecting flow of questions. She could never stay quiet for too long; no matter what is the topic she has something to say. In the past these kinds of people used to annoy Jonathan but now no matter how exhausting it can be he prefers it over the alternative of being trapped in silence only with his own thoughts.

“How was your day? The autumn is almost here. There is always much more sick people when the summer ends. We are lucky to have you. You were visiting that Butcher’s kid today right? How is he doing?”

“Hm? Yes, yes… The fever is almost gone. Few more days and Wilhelm will be back on his feet.”

Fanshawe has been living here for almost three years now. He had to deal at first with lots of hostile looks but they quickly changed to more accepting ones as soon as people learnt he is a doctor. Then they changed to fully welcoming when they realized he is a real and actually good doctor who can do more than just offer to people some herb tea. And so no one bothered to ask him too many questions what exactly made him leave all the comforts of London and move in remote village in foreign country.

“You look tired. Go get some rest I will start making dinner. I’ve prepared the fireplace for you it was quite chilly in your room. The autumn really is here isn’t it? As I said more people will start getting sick soon. It is always like that when autumn arrives…”

“Call me when it’s ready.” He might maybe spend the evening by reading next to lit fire place. Maybe he will even pour himself a glass of… well he isn’t sure what kind of alcohol it was exactly, he got it as a gift from one of his patient as a thank you. But it doesn’t taste the worst and he could not exactly be picky here.

“Oh also I would almost forget, a letter for you arrived today. Isn’t it strange, doctor? I don’t remember that you would ever get any.” It is indeed… unusual. There is a seed of worry starting to grow inside him. He doesn’t receive letters very often. He is doctor after all so when someone needs him it is usually way too urgent to wait for post to deliver message since they usually come by only once every two weeks. Still it doesn’t have to mean… “Do you have any idea who might write you? It looks rather fancy it is even in an envelope!”

Jonathan feels a horrible feeling of dread washing over him. “Yes… I mean no. I have no idea. Where is the letter, Frieda?”

“I left it on your table-…”

“Thank you. That is all I… Good night,”

“There will still be a dinner, doctor!” Fanshawe barely registers her words. He rushes into his room. Since Frieda keeps whole house very neat it takes him only few second it find a single letter lying on his writing table. He doesn’t know how long he only stares at it before he finally dares to pick it up.

The space for sender’s address is empty but Jonathan doesn’t need it to know who exactly has sent it to him. Even without the extravagant envelope; even without the seal with the owl imaginary; even if he couldn’t recognize the handwriting he still knows painfully well; there is only one person who could.

It has been years since he cut any contact with Jonah Magnus.

Unfortunately Jonah Magnus still hasn’t decided to cut a contact with him.

When he return from his… “trip” to Germany he was welcomed at his house in London by series of letters from Jonah questioning his decision. And they haven’t stopped coming. After a consideration Jonathan decided to move away, afraid Jonah might eventually try to reach out to him personally. ‘It is just because he doesn’t want to have anything to do with him,’ he was telling himself at first. ‘He has no reason to be afraid. What could Jonah do to him after all?’

The answer on his question was waiting at him every night in his nightmares which were full of eyes. Sometimes they are just floating in nothingness. Sometimes they are staring at him from Albrecht’s dead body. And sometimes he sees himself and he is the one covered in eyes.

After thinking about some of their past conversations and after looking at some of their past correspondence he started to notice lots of double meanings he chose to overlook at the time but which he can ignore no longer. Also what was the name of Jonah’s ‘dear friend’ who so mysteriously disappeared few years ago? Barnabas? There is no doubt something is very wrong with Jonah Magnus. And one should rather get out of his way before they find themselves standing in the middle of it.

He thought simply moving to a different city will solve his issue. He found out he has thought wrong since just as he is settled another letter from Jonah Magnus arrives. Jonathan was more annoyed than worried. At this point he assumed Jonah obtained the address through some acquaintances; he seemed to have some everywhere. And so Fanshawe thought that maybe staying abroad for year or two might solve his problem. He returned to Kingdom of Württemberg but then he very quickly moved to Baden. Then to Nassau, several parts of Saxony, Luxembourg, Hanover and many others German countries.

But the letters never stopped coming. Sometimes he received letters only weeks apart. Sometimes it took months. Now it has been the longest time since the last one. He really hoped that he managed to disappear from his sight. Or that at least Jonah got finally tired and decided to stop bothering him.

As many times before he is wrong. The letter in his hand is proof of that.

He should just throw it out. Destroy it. But he needs to know – it would later bother him too much – he needs to see for himself if there will be some threats. Requests. Curses.

He opens the letter.

 My dear Jonathan,

It has been a while since my last letter and I would like to apologize that I haven’t find a time to write to  you any sooner but I have been very busy with my Institute lately. I have finally found a perfect place where could I relocate my institute I think that I mentioned my intentions to do so in the past somewhere in our correspondence. I must admit that I might have helped it a bit by…

 Jonathan tears the paper in half.

There are no mean spirited words no laughs at him for thinking he might be safe. No. There is just politeness the words written as if they were intended for an old friend. Just mundane information about his everyday life Jonathan couldn’t be less interested in. He doesn’t want to know any of this. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to have anything to do with Jonah Magnus and his damned institute.

He tears the letter again. And again. And then once more. Only as he is throwing the scraps of paper in the fireplace he notices how much are his hands shaking. His heart is beating fast and the feeling of dread is swallowing him whole. Defeated, he sits down on a chair by the fire.

He feels so silly now. How could he think he can ever escape him? How could he think he is able to get rid of him?

The content of the letters really isn’t the point. It doesn’t matter whether Jonathan reads them or not because they already fulfill their purpose by just successfully reaching their destination. All Jonah wants is to remind Fanshawe from time to time that no matter where he moved no matter where he tried to hide he still knows his exact position. He isn’t about to hurt him. But he wants Jonathan to know that he could if he wanted. He is still at his mercy.

Jonathan should be probably angry. Enraged. But he cannot. He can no longer even bring himself to feel spite for what happened to Albrecht and for what probably happened to so many other people surrounding Jonah Magnus; for all the evil Jonathan unknowingly helped him to spread. He is only exhausted. He only wishes for it to finally end…

But it never will, will it? He should finally accept that there will always be a next letter. But living the rest of his life in state of constant paranoia seemed like fair prize to pay for his sins.

[mediocre--writing]

Safe With You (Headcannon)

Harry Potter X Ravenclaw!Werewolf!Reader

(also like kinda Harry’s family X Reader lol)

Summary: You and Harry met in your first year and when he invites you home for the summer, what will his family say about your blooming relationship?

Word Count: 3318

Warnings: none, but EVERYONE IS ALIVE BECAUSE HARRY DESERVES A HAPPY FAMILY!!

i wholeheartedly believe that harry potter would have been an awkward, gangly boy regardless if he grew up with the dursleys or not

so in this, harry gets to grow up relatively normal

except peter’s gone because nobody likes him

but when harry gets to go to hogwarts after he turns 11, he’s a little bit more confident but i still think he would be a little shy and anxious

he would still be friends with ron on the train ride there

he would get to know hermione well, too

and he would get to know you as well

he first sees you at the sorting ceremony, when you were put into ravenclaw, which really isn’t the reason harry becomes interested in you

the reason he becomes interested in you is because you have large scars on your neck and face and, from what he can see, your hands, too

he’s only ever seen scars like that on one other person

his uncle moony

and of course he knows about moony’s furry little problem and he’s heard the stories of what his dad and uncle did to help him

and so the next day, when you have your first class together, he comes up to you with no intention to let you go without a friend

and from that first day on, you're both inseparable

of course around second year, you tell harry your secret because you disappear every month and come back beaten and bruised with more scars than before

and he tells you about his uncle moony, and how his dad became an animagus 

“but you can’t tell anyone because nobody’s really supposed to know about his furry little problem”

but you feel so touched because he knew the whole time and never felt in danger around you

and of course you’re close with ron and hermione too 

because like of course you would be

ron makes sure that you get a weasley sweater every christmas because nobody should ever go without one

hermione does research on all she can to help you, along with making her own wolfsbane when you reach 4th year because she’s upped her potions skills

i also feel like mcgonagall, even though she’s not your head of house, would totally hang out with you in her cat form on full moons 

or at least watch over you

harry talks about his family to you and vise versa

he writes about you a lot in his letters to home

james and lily feel like they know you already and remus is proud of harry for taking initiative for making you feel safe

you also tag along with the trio to all their wonderful adventures

you're not the greatest witch, despite being in ravenclaw

you show people that stereotypes aren’t always true

because not all ravenclaws are smart in class

but

you can always figure out the riddles to get inside the dorm

and you have the most sarcastic humor and can always get your friends to laugh

and most ravenclaw’s brains are always running so fast that they often forget homework, classes, and can often be seen scribbling down final paragraphs to essays they forgot to do the night before

you also daydream a lot

like a lotttttttt

anywhoooo

you, ron, and hermione are invited to the potter/black/lupin household somewhere around 6th year

and yes the boys all live together because with the combined riches of james and sirius they bought a house with like ten bedrooms and decided that it would be easier when they began raising harry and also taking care of moony on full moon nights and the days prior/after 

all in all it would just be easier

back on topic

you, ron, and hermione spend the last month of summer break at the unrealistically large house that you never would have guessed harry potter lived in

because the boy wears the same three shirts every week so how was his house so big because you look homeless, harry!!!

but the three of you come to harry’s house at separate times

hermione arrives first because she’s punctual like that

ron’s next because his mom was on his tail about leaving at the right time

you arrive last because the full moon was the night before and you were asleep for most of the day

you only wake up because of hedwig pecking gently at your arm with a note from harry asking where you were

and you quickly pack a bag and get yourself presentable, but the new cut that has yet to scab over on your cheek is kinda sticking out and just…

ew

you floo over soon after 

and you land in their fireplace in the living room

a really large living room that has like three couches and everyone’s there

ron and hermione are next to each other but they’re also ignoring one another???

ahhh the wondrous world of denying your feelings 

james is talking to ron

lily is eagerly talking to hermione about the new curriculum and how nice it is to finally be able to apparate and that she’ll find it easy when she learns

sirius chimes in a time or two

remus is dozing next to lily, who’s rubbing his back comfortingly

there’s an instant sense of warmth that just kinda envelops the room 

it puts you at ease 

they all turn to the intrusion in their fireplace and you smile a bit awkwardly

harry is the first to stand up and greet you

with a hug

a big hug

that lasts a little too long

you kind of collapse in his arms

james and lily share a little look

and they know that harry’s in love with this girl

as if they didn’t know that from the obscene amount of times he’s mentioned your name

james and sirius stand up next 

james hugs you tighter than molly weasley and you wince

because he’s totally the momma bear

sirius lightly hugs your shoulders because harry’s more than mentioned your condition and based on remus’ snoring on the couch, he knows that you would be just as equally tired and sore

hermione and ron smile at you and wave because you all have been talking all summer and you’ve gotten with hermione a few times already

you sit on the other side of lily, who gives you a sweet hug as to not jostle remus, who’s leaning on her shoulder asleep

you all fall into easy, quiet, conversation

you scratch a bit at the new scar on your face out of anxious habit

lily leans towards you while sirius is talking about the motorcycle he had while he was in hogwarts, and the one he has now

“honey, your cheek is bleeding a little bit, if you ask harry he can show you where the bandages are,”

even though she’s pointing out that there’s blood dripping down your face, you feel loved and wanted and welcome

so lily catches harry’s attention and he walks you into the bathroom where they keep bandages and alcohol to clean the cut

it’s a bit of an awkward walk down the hall there but once you’re in the bathroom, you sit on the closed toilet and harry grabs the alcohol and a cotton ball and leans down to your face

you look into each other’s eyes because he’s holding your chin to angle your cheek towards him

“was it bad last night?”

“it’s never good”

…

“that was a bad attempt at a joke, sorry. it wasn’t really any worse than usual, ya know?”

“i get it.”

**weird-teenagers-in-love-but-don’t-know-how-to-act-silence**

“so what have you been doing over summer?”

you don’t really know how to answer that

you don’t have any siblings and your parents are both busy most of the time so you just chill at home

“i watched movies and read a few books that i hadn’t gotten to before, i don’t know i didn't do much, really.”

“yeah we haven’t done much this summer. we spent the last like week cleaning because you guys were coming over”

*awkward chuckles*

harry put the bandage on your cheek and you both walked back to the living room talking quietly to one another

remus was awake now

kinda

he was still leaning on lily but his eyes were open

“hi, professor, how are you doing?”

“i imagine about as well as you are, y/n”

you and remus had gotten close during your third year because of your condition and you would spend time together in the infirmary 

he shared his chocolate with you often

which harry mentioned was a pretty high praise from him

he let you slip in class during days around the full moon because he was slacking too

you also had similar senses of humor and talking points

so you were already comfortable around him

sirius kinda intimidated you just because he had a very confident aura around him that kinda reminded you of the slytherins who would tease you for your scars in first and second year

but you kinda eased up around him as everyone got more comfortable

the adult’s friendship reminded you of your friendship

lily and hermione were both like nagging mothers with a little dark side

ron and sirius were both kinda overshadowed in their youth and found shelter in their friends

obviously james and harry are like the same person through and through

you and remus have a very similar personality 

as well as the whole wolf thing, ya know

and seeing the marauders and lily last so long gave you hope that your friends would stick around for you as well

everything was free and easy until dinner

everyone sat around a large table eating take out chinese food because nobody could be bothered to actually cook tonight

james and sirius were directly across from you 

and they both knew about harry’s not-so-secret crush and they were beginning to think that you shared at least some of those feelings

“so what do your parents do?”

“my mom works at a car shop, she’s a mechanic, and my dad works at gringotts,”

“so your dad’s a wizard and your mom--”

“muggle,”

“ahhh”

“yeah she’s really cool though. sometimes she brings home projects or brings me with her and we work on cars together. i’m still trying to convince her to let me buy a used bike and fix it up but she thinks it's too dangerous,”

sirius fell in love, you were immediately accepted into his heart

you were friends with harry, had a good connection with remus already, and you wanted a motorcycle???

james was still iffy about you, just because he was protective of harry, but he saw how kind and sweet and real you were

“what do you plan on doing once you leave hogwarts?”

**que alarm bells ringing in your head

“i’m not really sure, i don’t really know who would hire me in the first place but i was pretty close with fred and george, who just opened their joke shop down in diagon alley, and they were thinking about opening one in hogsmeade during the school year and said they may consider me to manage it if i wanted since i helped design some of their products,”

the boys were kinda (superduper) impressed by that because harry wasn’t really involved with pranks, and now they finally had somebody to talk to about them

then they moved on to nagging hermione because they were already close with the weasleys and knew all about ron

and his budding feelings for hermione

the first week or so was a little strange, just getting used to the way things worked around the house, but everyone was comfortable after that

harry and ron shared a room and you and hermione were together

james had made sure that the boys and girls stayed separated at night and the invisibility cloak was in his possession

oh he saw the sparks between you and harry and the blooming relationship happening with ron and hermione

lily tried to convince him that nothing bad was going to happen and let you guys have a bit more freedom

but like i said before

james is mama bear

as the weeks go by you and harry get closer 

and more comfortable

and you sit closer to one another on the couch 

and at dinner

and when you play quidditch in the backyard, you always playfully tease one another with little glances back and forth

and when you go to the lake behind their house you jokingly tackle one another into the water and dance around

as the days go by, the month comes to an end and starts again, which leads to another full moon

the week before you start to slow down and become more out of it

the last two days before, you start to gain lots of energy, whether it be from nerves or just your body knowing that it’s going to be in pain later that causes it to give you more energy before

none of this bothers harry because remus goes through the same thing and he’s kinda used to it

when you slow down, he slows with you, continues to alter what you’re doing to accommodate your energy level

when you become more hyper, he matches your energy, which usually includes giggles, tickle fights, and more competitive quidditch matches

he also makes sure you take your wolfsbane the week before

“ughhhh ok dad!”

“stop calling me that! i’m being fucking nice!”

the night of everyone eats an early dinner because you, remus, james, and sirius have to go to the little shed in the backyard that’s not really too tiny, but it’s smaller than the shrieking shack

james and sirius try to ease the tension with lighthearted comments, but you feel more tense than usual because you’ve never done this with anyone before

besides remus in your third year and mcgonagall occasionally popping in during your first year at hogwarts

when the transition began, james and sirius transformed into padfoot and prongs

remus’ transition was quicker than yours, something to do with age and his body being used to the transformation after so many years

yours took longer

and even though you took the wolfsbane, it was still extremely painful and took almost 20 minutes to finally transform

james and sirius had flashbacks to their first time with remus and how painful it looked

and they had a whole other respect for how lively and extroverted you were because even when he was your age, remus was always so mellow and quiet

but they hang out with you and remus for the night, distracting you both from whatever discomfort you may have been in 

eventually the sun came up and you and remus transformed back into yourselves

but james and sirius made sure they pushed you into another little room so when you transformed back you wouldn’t be exposed to them

you found a robe on the back of that door that you slipped on before you collapsed on the floor from exhaustion

sirius walked remus’ limping body back to the house while james came to check on you

he knocked on the door and when he didn’t hear anything he slid the door open slowly, seeing you against the wall, on the floor, in the robe they left you

your hair was tousled from the transformation and you were still breathing heavy, even in your sleep

james gently picked you up off the ground bridal style and walked you out of the shack slowly, and when he got to the front door, he saw harry anxiously wringing his hands together 

a small smile spread across james’ face as he saw his son being so completely whipped for you

harry let out an audible sigh of relief when he saw you with his dad

“she’s ok right?”

“did you notice any new scrapes or cuts?”

“was it a rough night?”

etc, etc, etc,

they made it into the house where lupin was laying on one of the couches and lily was looking over his body, making sure that he didn’t have any severe injuries

james laid your body on another couch, hermione coming to sit by your feet on the end of the couch 

harry sat on the floor right by your head, stroking your forehead and hair and staring at you with the sweetest worried expression

it was sweet

once lily finished looking over remus and he went to his room, she came over to you

“do you know if  she usually sleeps this much afterwards?”

“yeah, she usually sleeps through the day, but she’ll probably wake up between lunch and dinner then fall asleep after eating or drinking something.”

harry responded without even looking up at his mom

lily had a sweet smile on her face at her sons’ obvious affection with you

she still checked over your body for any serious cuts that wouldn’t heal themselves within the next day or two

harry made sure you were comfortable on the couch

he stuffed a pillow under your head and draped a fuzzy blanket over you 

and he sat on the floor in front of you for the whole day

he would occasionally talk to ron or hermione or whoever walked in

but he didn’t move unless he had to use the bathroom

you woke up around 3pm

and harry had his head resting on his arm, which was resting the couch

you lifted your arm and stroked his arm from his elbow down to his hand back and forth

he looked up at you quickly and you gave him a gentle smile

he smiled back

“how’re you feeling, want coffee?”

and that was in his softest, little, tired voice

of course you nodded to the promise of a hot cup of coffee

because after transformations you always felt extra cold and had to cover yourself in blankets and consume hot drinks to feel like you’re at a normal temperature 

when harry returned with your coffee you were sat up on the couch, the blanket resting over your lap

he took a seat next to you and handed you the mug

you smiled at him and rested your head on his shoulder as you rested against the back of the couch

you took small sips from your mug as you relaxed and tried to ignore any lingering pain in your body

“your shoulders hurt?”

you smiled lightly because you always complained how bad your shoulders hurt after full moons and he always asked the question with an affectionate, teasing smile

“only all the time,”

“hold on”

harry moved himself to be laying down against the pillow that you were using before, then gently pulling you down to lay between his legs, your back to his chest

he rubbed over your shoulders lightly as you closed your eyes and took the occasional sip from your mug

it only took a few minutes for the both of you to fall into a light sleep, your grip loosening on your mug, but not enough to drop it, and harry’s arms wrapped around your torso

and that’s when lily, james, and sirius walked in

they were going to the kitchen to make dinner, but stopped to check on you

and you can bet that sirius took at least eight pictures

and they were all happy harry found you 

because it never mattered if you dated or not

and it never mattered if they liked you or not

because harry loved you and made you feel safe no matter what

and when sirius and james made a bet for when you would get together, remus got all the money cause he’s good like that

needless to say, you were together by the time you got on the hogwarts express that september

[angelz-dust]

masters of none - part 3 (jason todd x reader)

summary: i wanted to give you guys a more jason focused chapter. i plan on doing more of these where the reader isn’t as heavily included or not even included at all. hopefully the jason chapter i do will be better because i feel like the quality of my writing dipped a little on this one fhjghdk the next part will be back in reader’s head i promise. anyway i hope you guys still enjoy. this chapter is a little more dangerous, so prepare yourself.

word count: 6k

warnings: illegal activities (street racing, running from the cops, gunfire). food and drink (non alcoholic). smoking.

part 1 /// part 2 /// part 4

rascal (superstar)

money, cash, clothes, fast cars

...

jason felt the cool nighttime air beating back against him, the rumble of his engine being the only thing he could hear as he rode his motorcycle down the quiet road in robbinsville. he felt naked being out and about at night in his civilian clothing but it was necessary for the task at hand. 

"exactly what does bruce want me to do?" jason asked barbara through their comm link.

"he wants you to report back with any intel you can get," barbara explained, the sound of her furious typing picking up in his ear. "my father thinks southside may be up to something. after that blow up between them and the penguin's guys, they've both been quiet. bruce just wants to make sure nothing's brewing under our noses."

"this is such a cop mission," jason complained as made a turn. "below my caliber, if i'm being honest."

"well, you'll have the races to keep you entertained," she reminded him. "i'll be on the line if you need me."

the races were the only reason jason had agreed to take on the little spy mission in the first place. sure, street racing was very illegal but it was also very entertaining. barbara was correct on that end. he just hoped it wouldn't be a complete waste of his time and he'd actually get some information out of the whole thing. he had to admit that it was a tolerable change of pace from the monotony that was patrolling crime alley. jason had passed the baton to cass for the night. she was the only person he trusted to do a good job. he refused to let just anyone take over his patrol route. things were different in crime alley. it required a... gentler touch that only he could provide and that he felt cass had an understanding of. one of the things he promised himself he'd do with his undeserved second chance at life was to protect the people who needed it most. it didn't matter how monotonous patrol became, or how tired he felt, or how how hard things got. he'd protect them all until his body didn't let him anymore.

jason could see his destination, the abandoned industrial park, in the distance. there were several cars parked all throughout it with people congregating around them. from what he could see, everything seemed calm. the closer he got, the better he could hear the loud music playing from the cars. he slowly pulled up, getting some looks from the people he passed by on his way to park it. coming here alone may have been a bad idea. he should've dragged dick along with him. it would've made blending in easier. he dismounted his bike, propping it up on the kickstand and pulling his helmet off his head. as he casually fixed his hair, he did a quick scan of the area. there were several groups of people scattered around while the road was being prepared for the race. 

he saw a group of rowdy socialites a bit overdressed for a street race. he could use them as cover but the last thing he wanted to do was willingly be around the likes of them. there was one small group tucked away, standing around an electric blue sports car. their eyes were shifty and he could see they were trying to keep their voices down, even when they were far away from everyone else. he'd have to keep an eye on them. jason's eyes fell on the group of people counting money, presumably the betting pot. placing one would be a good way of blending in organically. he had made sure to grab some money from the emergency stash when he left the manor for this very reason. he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black leather jacket, making his way over to the crowded area.

"we're short by a thousand," a woman, the bookkeeper, announced.

"pitch in," a man said, elbowing another guy.

quinton kelly, jason thought to himself, recognizing the rapper that stephanie and duke liked so much. 

"i don't have a fucking band on me," quinton laughed in response, pulling out his wallet. "i can put down three."

"i'll match that," another man spoke up, a cigarette in his mouth. if memory served, which jason liked to think it did, that was tyler ronan. 

"who else has money burning a hole in their pocket?" the bookkeeper shouted out, making the group laugh. 

"come on, superstar. donate to the cause," the man from earlier spoke up, bothering someone else now.

"hell no," an oddly familiar female voice said. jason's eyes searched for the source. "are you insane?"

surprise flashed across his face when he realized who the voice belonged to. it was you. y/n l/n. the girl from the gala. his bard. he felt an odd sensation building in his stomach. he had convinced himself he was never going to see you again yet here you were. your presence made sense. quinton and tyler were members of cloud 9, just like you were. he wasn’t sure if he was happy to see you or if he was glad he could use you as cover. he could just follow you around and no one would question it. this was him banking on the assumption that you'd actually want to speak to him. he was hoping that he made a good impression on you at the gala. your interaction was short, but memorable. at least it was to him. staring at you like a deer in headlights wasn't going to get him anywhere, so he spoke up.

"i can put down four," he said, emerging from the back of the group. he felt all the eyes on him and he could hear the whispers. he ignored them all, his attention fully on the bookkeeper. the surprised look on her face led him to believe that she recognized him, too.

"well, i'm not going to turn down old money," she joked, getting some laughs. "what's your name? there's so many of you wayne kids, i can't keep track."

jason chuckled, nodding in understanding. even he lost track sometimes. "jason."

"okay, mr. jason wayne," she said, taking his name down. 

"it's todd," you said, catching him off guard. his eyes met yours, a small smile appearing on his lips. 

"oh, excuse me," she laughed, correcting herself. "mr. jason todd."

"i'm racking up the celebrity bets tonight," the man, who jason now deducted was the driver, grinned. 

"yeah, so don't embarrass us by losing," the bookkeeper said seriously, counting up the money. 

"alright! let's get this shit started!" someone yelled, everyone cheering loudly and moving in towards the finish line.

you, tyler, and quinton were walking over as a group, but jason noticed you were trailing behind. he couldn't help but think in the back of his mind that you had slowed your stride for him. he made his way over to you, being greeted by your sweet smile.

“hi jason,” you said softly, keeping your voice low. “i didn’t think i’d see you here tonight.”

“i could say the same about you,” jason couldn’t help but wonder what it was you were doing a street race. yes, there were other celebrities there but he didn’t peg you as the type to hang out with gang members. but then again, this was gotham. “can’t say i’m disappointed to see you, though.”

your smile grew, your eyes crinkling a little. “well, the feeling is mutual. it’s nice to see you, too.”

what he said was the truth. it wasn't something he said to try and butter you up, although that may have influenced his decision to tell you how he felt. he really did enjoy your company, both as red hood and as jason. he wasn’t particularly looking forward to his mission but now he was glad he accepted. 

"hey," you called out, sticking your foot out and kicking quinton in the butt with the tip of your shoe. quinton turned around and gave jason a look. after a moment, he held his hand out to him. 

"what's up, man?" he greeted jason, dapping him up, tyler doing the same. "you hanging with us tonight?"

"yes, he is," you answered for him, making jason grin. 

he was glad you were eager to keep him around. now he didn't have to try and convince you or insert himself awkwardly. "can you spot me?" jason asked, gesturing towards tyler's cigarette.

"sure thing," tyler nodded, holding the carton out for him. jason plucked one out of the box, quickly lighting it and taking a long drag. 

while the three of you talked, jason took the opportunity to try and listen in on the other conversations happening around him. it was like he was playing with a radio, tuning in and out of conversations as he saw fit. none of them were interesting or helpful, though. they were pretty boring and mostly topical, pertaining to the race, the cars, and just other mindless bullshit.

"yeah, we're gonna drop the stuff off at the docks after the race. mix it in with the bite bottles," he heard someone say. 

bingo. he didn't know what the stuff was but he assumed it was nothing good, especially if it was being hidden with something as harmless as track bite. he'd have to look into that later. it was safe to assume they were referring to were the docks off of cape carmine, not too far from the current location. jason lightly pressed on his comm link, glancing around before speaking quietly. 

"i think something might go down at the docks later tonight," he said, hearing barbara's shuffling.

"cape carmine?" 

"i would assume so. they were talking about hiding some shit with track bite bottles."

"knowing them it could be something as simple as drugs or complex as new tech. just keep me posted."

jason was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard the low rumble of car engines. the first car was candy apple red 240sx, souped up beyond comprehension. the other was as glossy black gtr, more subtle in presentation. as he admired the cars rolling by, he realized something. he turned his head towards you, clearing his throat.

"which car did i bet on?" he asked you quietly, getting a confused smile from you. 

"the red one," you said through a little laugh. "did you seriously bet without knowing?"

"perhaps," jason shrugged, feigning nonchalance. 

"idiot," you shook your head, making him laugh now. 

"well, your friends knew. i trust their judgement."

"as you should," quinton said, catching the tail end of the conversation between you both. "our boy spider knows what he's doing."

you and jason looked out at the road again, watching as it was prepped with track bite and then lit on fire with propane. jason glanced over at you, noticing you were struggling to see behind your very tall friends and the other people in the way. he gently tapped your arm, non verbally offering you a spot in front of him. you accepted with a smile, working your way in front of him.

"don't get any ashes in my hair," you playfully told him. he went to do just that, pretending to tap off the excess from his cigarette on your head, purposefully missing so you could see the ashes fall down in front of you. you gasped, moving back, his firm abdomen pressed against you. with your head against his chest, you looked up at him and glared.

"okay, okay, i'm sorry," jason laughed, sticking the cigarette back in his mouth. "you made it too easy."

"you're such an ass," you rolled your eyes, turning back around and moving out of his personal space bubble. jason's shit eating grin never left his face as he took another drag, making sure to keep the smoke and ashes as far from you as he could. the flagger for the race walked out as the cars pulled up to the starting line. with the street prepped and the cameras set up, the main race was finally going to begin. 

"gigante wants us to head out early, so we need to leave after this." 

these idiots just loved talking about sensitive information out loud, didn't they? it made jason’s job a whole lot easier so he couldn't complain. it was too bad that he'd have to leave early for the lead, though. he was just starting to get comfortable around you again. it seemed to be a running theme with the two of you.

the cars flashed their high beams, the flagger waiting a moment before giving the signal. as soon as he did, the drivers pressed down on the gas, their tires screeching against the concrete. spider's car popped a wheelie before speeding down the street, the black gtr not far behind. the 240sx was swerving, which would normally be alarming with an inexperienced driver behind the wheel. thankfully, the gtr stayed straight. despite spider’s sloppy swerving, the two cars were still neck and neck. it wasn't long before they zoomed past the crowd, eventually slowing down at the end of the road. it happened so quickly but it looked like spider had just barely passed the finish line before the gtr. 

"review the fucking footage!" someone from the other side shouted. 

there was a lot of money riding on the race, so naturally tensions were high. jason could hear arguments as two people went to go grab the cameras so they could look over the recordings. aside from the arguing, it was very quiet while everyone waited for the results.

"it's the 240!" they announced, looking at the footage on a tablet. there was a mix of cheers and objections. people were demanding to see the footage themselves but it was clear that the ruling was accurate and final. just as the two bookkeepers made the money exchange, accepting the results of the race.

"see, y/n? your boy was right to trust us," quinton grinned, patting jason's back, who grinned back. “easy money. not that you needed it.”

"i'll go grab our cuts?" tyler questioned, looking between quinton and jason, who agreed. "alright, i'll be back."

jason's eyes were glued on the two men he was eavesdropping on earlier. they were headed over to the same area tyler was going, presumably to get their cut of the money. there was a huge crowd of people, so it would probably take awhile. during jason’s observation, quinton had walked off to talk to someone else, leaving you with him. he probably had a few more minutes before he’d have to go back to being red hood, so he wanted to make the most of it. 

“so, you come to these things often?” jason asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. he wasn’t sure if you’d give him the answer he was looking for but it was worth a shot.

“not really. i got dragged here,” you shrugged, getting a nod from him. he was slightly relieved, hoping that meant you weren’t heavily involved with the people there. it would be convenient to get information from you but he didn’t want to spend the little time he had left interrogating you. “what about you?”

“i’ve been to a few,” he admitted, looking back at his two targets. they were still waiting around with tyler. his attention quickly went back to you. “how’s your wife?”

your brows furrowed briefly before your eyes widened. “oh, misha. she’s my ex-wife now, technically.”

“my deepest condolences,” jason joked. “does that make me a home wrecker after all?”

you hummed, looking up at the night sky as you thought it over. “no, i don’t think so. you’re more than welcome to be my back up plan, though.”

a hearty laugh came from jason, making his chest tingle. that was probably the douchiest thing he had ever said to someone. he was lucky you hadn’t slapped him or threw your drink in his face for being so bold that night. jason looked over at the group again, noticing that tyler was in the middle of getting the money, his two targets right behind him. he frowned a little, realizing that he’d have to excuse himself. just as he was about to, he heard some yelling in the distance. you both looked around, trying to figure out where it was coming from. 

before jason could even find the source of the commotion, he heard the sound of police sirens and the red and blue lights that naturally accompanied it. the crowd quickly reacted, stampeding away and back towards the parking area. people were yelling and cursing but loud screams replaced it all when gunshots rung out. jason immediately reached out to you, pulling you into his body while he searched for a way out. 

"come on!" jason shouted, grabbing your arm and starting to drag you away. he needed to get you both out of there as soon as possible.

"wait!" you gasped, looking around for your friends. jason could tell you were panicking as you tried to find them, but there was no time. not while the gunshots got louder and more frequent. "tyler! quinton!"

"we have to go, y/n! come on!" he firmly grabbed your hand and pulled, you reluctantly running off with him. he looked around for his bike, pushing through people as he worked his way over.

"god, you're parked in fucking guam!" you complained about the distance, trying to keep up with him. 

"less talking, more running!"

you both made it to the bike, him put on his helmet and passing you yours. as you both mounted the bike, he felt your arms wrap tightly around his midsection and your cheek press into his back. "hold on tight, alright?" he said before speeding off, slipping expertly through the parked cars and people in his way.

as he rode his bike through the park, there were several cars with the same idea, all evacuating the area by going out the same way. too impatient to wait, he began weaving through the cars. it didn't take long for the huge group to get to the main streets where more cops were waiting for them. many of the cars began making wild turns off road and going in the opposite direction but jason had other plans. he picked up speed, heading straight for the forming blockade.

"you're heading straight for the cops!" you yelled, tightening your grip around him. 

"keen observation!" 

"maybe you should turn around?"

"nah, i'm good!" jason told you, cockiness lacing his words. he knew what he was doing. "you trust me, right?"

"i don’t even know you!" you said back, peeking over his shoulder before hiding your face in his back as he continued approaching the cars at a violent speed. jason easily slipped through the cop cars, making it through before the road was blocked off. 

jason smirked, making a sharp turn down the curving street. he was about to say something smug when he heard the sirens getting closer. he glanced at his mirror, seeing one of the cars trailing him. shit.

"shit."

"jason!"

"i know!" 

his grip on the handle bars tightened as he sped up, trying to find a way to lose the cop without putting you in danger. if it was just him, he'd do some more risky maneuvers but he really didn't want you flying off the back of his bike. he'd have to lose them in a safer way. 

"pull over your vehicle! this is your only warning!" the officer said through the speaker of the car.

jason really didn't want to take you through crime alley or the bowery, so his best bet was driving towards blüdhaven. it was better than finding a way to turn around in order to stay in gotham and blüdhaven was much closer, anyway. hopefully he'd lose the cop after crossing city lines. he really didn't want to circumnavigate the planet to get away from one cop.

he had an idea. a stupid idea, but an idea nonetheless. he was getting dangerously close to traffic and as long as you stayed tightly wrapped around him, he could slip through and cross the bridge to blüdhaven, losing the cop in the process. would you like it? probably not, but he was running out of options. 

"jason, what are you doing?" you asked frantically, the bright city lights getting closer and closer.

"something stupid," he sped up, trying to put more distance between him and the cop. "do not move a muscle."

"stop the vehicle! now!" the cop yelled through the speaker again. 

jason could smell the burning rubber of his tires as he turned down the street, the sound of horns honking as he slipped through traffic, the cop still hot on his tail. he slowed down a little in order to make accurate and much safer movements as traffic got denser, giving him more cars to avoid. he glanced at the mirror again, seeing he had made a some good distance. if he could keep it up, he'd lose the cop in no time. the bridge to blüdhaven wasn't much farther. 

"jason, look out!" you yelled, pointing to the oncoming sixteen wheeler about to cut both of you off. there was a reason you weren't supposed to run red lights. 

he had two options: come to a screeching halt, turning the both of you into projectiles or keep pushing and pray to god that you both didn't get t-boned by the s.t.a.r labs semi. jason furrowed his brows and set his jaw speeding up as much as he could. he could hear the loud horn ringing in his ears but he kept laser focus on his intended destination. he zipped past the truck, just barely going fast enough to not get hit. in the driver's attempt to not hit you two, he stopped in the middle of the street, preventing the cop from being able to follow anymore. jason's heart was hammering in his chest as he rode down the bridge down to blüdhaven, the warm yellow streetlights illuminating the way. once he crossed over, he headed to a nearby diner. he parked in the back lot, not wanting to draw too much attention.

"hey, are you alright?" he asked, taking off his helmet and getting off the bike. he hung it from the handlebar, helping you dismount. he hesitantly moved his hands towards your face, unclipping your helmet and pulling it off your head. "y/n? talk to me. are you hurt?"

"n-no, i'm fine," you told him shakily. seeing you all shaken up made him feel terrible. he wasn't sure how to comfort you without overstepping boundaries, so he kept his distance, giving you time to recover. after you collected yourself, jason flinched at your sudden physical attacks.

"i can't believe you!" you yelled, abusing his chest with smacks and punches. "you almost got us killed!"

"i-i'm sorry!" he sputtered, grabbing your wrists to stop you from hitting him. "i didn't know what else to do!"

you looked at him, a hard expression on your face. god, you probably hated him and he couldn’t blame you. leave it to him to fuck some shit up. his self deprecating thoughts began to subside when he saw the smile of disbelief forming on your face. "jason todd, you are a fucking maniac."

he loosened his grip on your wrists, a smile slowly making its way to his face, mirroring yours. "i've been called worse."

"just another fucking day in gotham," you groaned, dragging your hands down your face. "or blüdhaven, i guess."

"yeah, sorry about that," he apologized with a frown. "that bastard was persistent."

"don't worry about it," you reassured him, letting out a deep sigh. "i need to call my friends and make sure they're alright."

jason nodded, grabbing his own phone. "yeah, i gotta make a call, too."

the two of you separated, jason only pretending to be on the phone so he could talk to barbara. "you there?"

"yeah. i see you went on a little drive," she said, her almost sounding like scolding.

"what the hell was i supposed to do? we had to get out of there," jason frowned. 

"we?" barbara echoed and jason could practically hear the quirk in her brow. 

"not important. what's important is acknowledging the fact that i didn't hear the sweet sound of your voice earlier," jason started off sarcastically, it being his turn to scold now. "where the hell were you at, almighty oracle? you didn't wanna tell me the cops were gonna show up?"

"i didn't know they were out there," she admitted honestly, sounding confused. "they must have been keeping it on the down low. the question now is why."

"probably so people like us wouldn't find out," jason sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"maybe," she sounded unsure. being unsure wasn't really barbara’s thing, so that was alarming.

"well, i doubt anything will go down at the docks now. the area's too hot."

"you're probably right. there's nothing else we can do tonight," barbara sighed. "glad you're not dead."

"yeah, thanks," jason gave her a quick goodbye, putting his phone away and walking back to his bike. you had just finished your conversation, looking relieved. "good news?"

"tyler and quinton got out fine. i think they took a different exit out because i didn't see them with that big group we were in," you explained, shivering a little. 

"we should go inside. it'll be better than loitering out here," jason offered and you nodded in agreement. you entered the diner, noticing there weren't many people inside.

"let's sit in that booth over there," you pointed over to the near the window, jason's bike being visible on the outside. 

you both made your way over, sliding into your seats. the atmosphere was a bit awkward initially, the both of you still coming down from your adrenaline rush. jason hooked his finger under the little acrylic standee holding the dessert menu, pulling it towards himself. a nice cup of coffee with something sweet sounded good right about now. it would definitely calm his nerves. he wasn’t sure if you’d get anything, though. maybe you were too frazzled to eat, which made him feel bad again. before his negative thoughts could return, he looked up, noticing you eyeballing the menu leaning against the window sill. you had your head tilted to the side, as the menu was stored horizontally, making it difficult to read the text. he couldn't help but smile to himself as you squinted at it. why would didn't just grab the menu to look at it properly, he didn't know. he wasn't going to question it, though, simply putting his menu back where he found it. 

"what can i get you kids tonight?" the approaching waitress asked, pulling out her notepad. 

"a black coffee and a slice of pie for me," jason said as the waitress quickly wrote his order down. 

"is apple alright?" she asked and jason nodded. "what about you, hon?"

"um... blueberry waffles," you said, tilting your head some more before looking at her. "and hot chocolate."

the waitress smiled at your order, nodding as she jotted it down. "you want some bacon or sausage on the side? we have pork and turkey."

you hummed, drumming your fingers on the table. "yes. turkey bacon."

"shouldn't take but a minute. if you two find yourselves wanting anything else, you just let me know."

jason yawned, leaning back against his seat with outstretched arms. he did some people watching while he waited for the waitress to return. there was a small group of people, college students most likely, sitting at the middle tables with textbooks and empty plates strewn about. there was a cop sitting at the bar, very obviously flirting with the other, much younger waitress who was refilling his coffee. then there was you and him. he had been with you for quite some time now and he hadn't taken the opportunity to look at you. to really look at you. you absentmindedly played with the hair that directly framed your face while you were on your phone. you looked awfully comfortable in your oversized sweatshirt despite your shivering earlier. you weren't really dressed up, he noticed. it didn't look like you had on any makeup either. then again, tim had told him that people who wore makeup had the ability to make it look like they weren't wearing any at all. the natural look was what it was called. either way, your face looked nice. so did your hair. and your eyes, that were now gazing into his.

"you know, i definitely didn't see myself ending up here tonight."

jason's brow perked up. "what? running from the cops on the back of my motorcycle wasn't on your bingo card?"

"can't say it was," you shook your head with a smile. 

"are you disappointed?"

"with?"

"where you ended up tonight."

"no," you said, not missing a beat. your lack of hesitation surprised him in the best way possible. "sure, you almost killed me but that's a typical tuesday for a gothamite."

jason grinned, biting his lip. "i'm sorry about that. really, i-"

"no, no," you cut him off, dismissing his apology with a wave of the hand. "don't apologize. it's over and done with."

even though you seemed to be okay with everything, he still felt like shit. that feeling wasn’t going away any time soon. the waitress returned with your food and drinks, receiving thanks from you both. jason immediately took a sip of his coffee, the potent flavor coating his tongue and the warmth of the liquid heating his body up. it helped soothe some of his anxiety.

"this is so cute," you muttered, taking a picture of your plate. the chef had arranged the blueberries and bacon to make a smiley face that you couldn't help but smile back at. once you got a good picture, you started digging in. 

there was no conversation to be had. the two of you just ate, occasionally glancing at each other or at your phones. every now and then your eyes would meet and little smiles would be shared. you and jason were people who appreciated the intimacy of silence. not talking was often harder than holding a conversation. being able to sit in complete silence with someone and not feel uncomfortable at any point was a hard task for most but it came naturally to you both. not that you two had much to talk about anyway. you barely knew each other and you definitely weren’t about to bond over your near death experience. jason didn’t want to risk possibly fucking up even more than he already had, so not talking worked for him. it didn’t help keep his intrusive thoughts out, though. he tried not to focus on them, distracting himself with people watching and looking at you.

“where did you learn to ride like that?” you asked him, suspicion lacing your words. you popped a blueberry into your mouth, tilting your head at him.

“uh...” he trailed off, shrugging softly as he hid his face in his mug, drinking the liquid inside. “nowhere. myself. i don’t know. i guess it was just the adrenaline. why?”

you shrugged back at him, reaching over and stealing a small piece of his pie. you looked him in the eye as you ate it, licking the food off your fork as your eyes narrowed. “you know how i’m batman? i’m starting to think you might be catwoman.”

jason snorted, breathing out a laugh as he looked around the diner in disbelief. not only did he find your little joke funny, the fact that you technically weren’t that far off was amusing to him. “you’re ridiculous.”

“you aren’t denying it?” your brow raised, making him laugh again. “ah, i’ve caught you red handed.”

oh, this was just the gift that kept on giving. now you were making puns without even realizing it. 

“i mean, it all makes sense. the unnecessary flirting, calling me out for being a vigilante, and now running from the cops,” you clicked your tongue with a shake of the head, carefully wiping the corners of your mouth. you balled up your napkin, tossing it on your now empty plate. “i don’t know why you thought that i, the greatest detective in gotham, wouldn’t be able to piece this all together. i’m offended, really.”

“can i get you two anything else tonight?” the waitress asked as she walked up, just missing your conversation.

“no, ma’am. i think we’re good,” jason smirked, not taking his eyes off of you. she left the check on the table, walking off. jason pulled out his wallet, leaving a twenty to cover both the food and the tip. 

“wayne money or dirty money? the world will never know,” you quipped as the two of you got up to leave, making him roll his eyes.

“shut up.”

after a quick pit stop at the gas station, jason took you back to your apartment in the diamond district. the ride there was long, but nice, accompanied by music coming from the radio. a cloud 9 song played at one point and jason decided that he might have to give your discography a listen. the way you held yourself against him, nuzzling into his back gave him goosebumps. or maybe it was just the nippy temperature. he hoped that’s all it was. for awhile, he wondered if you were cold. if his jacket was warmer, he would’ve offered it to you a long time ago. and, of course, if it wasn't so cliché. with the way you were attached to him, he liked to think that his body heat was enough. relief washed over him when he pulled up in front of gotham tower. he wasn’t sure how much more he of that could take. he parked, letting you off.

"do you wanna come in?" you pulled him from his thoughts as you took off your helmet. 

"come in?" he parroted, a laugh falling from your lips.

"i'm not asking you to spend the night or anything. it’s just.. you’ve been acting like my chauffeur all night and it isn’t safe to be out this late. i'd feel horrible if something happened to you," you explained, getting a smile from him. 

"don't worry about me. i'll be fine. my place isn't too far from here," he lied with a shrug. his safehouse was nowhere near the diamond district but you didn’t need to know that little detail. the rest of what he said was true. he was going to be fine. “besides, i’m catwoman, remember?”

"at least let me give you my number," you insisted with a giggle, pulling out your phone. "you have to text me when you get home."

jason agreed and the two of you exchanged numbers, bidding each other goodbye. he made sure to stay and watch you go up before leaving. on his way home, he thought about your concern for his wellbeing, finding it cute. misplaced, but cute. it wasn't your fault, though. you didn't know he was more than capable of taking care of himself and the whole damn city, for that matter. you know, as catwoman. still, it was sweet having someone worry about him for a change, even if it wasn’t completely necessary. when he got back to his safe house he texted you, just as promised. you must've been waiting for him because you responded pretty quick. he crawled into bed, smiling down at the heart emojis you sent him. he decided to send you something back before going to sleep, his thumbs slowly typing out the words that popped into his head.

you better not start texting me all the time.

don't flatter yourself. i won’t.

he hoped that you would anyway.

[lifesabe-ch]

jump the gun - aaron h.

summary: you’re struggling to figure out how to use your firearm before your test. after not getting anywhere with Emily, Hotch decides to help you out... in more ways than one (based loosely off S1E6)

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: gun use

a/n: I really really love hotch. I have smut written for him too so... if y'all like this and want that pls let me know. also if y'all want some Spencer Reid stuff... let me know that too. I'm watching criminal minds right now and I love

As the shot fired, you winced, the bullet missing the bullseye entirely.

“Did Elle teach you that?”

You roll your eyes, scoffing lightly as you stare at the target in front of you, “That’s misogynistic.”

“I wasn't saying—”

You cut him off, a sigh leaving your lips as you turn to face him, “I’m not going to pass. I’m never going to get a gun.”

Hotch scanned your features, a sympathetic smile being flashed in your direction, “Profilers aren’t required to carry. You don’t need a gun.”

“You carry two!”

Almost as if on cue, you watch as Hotch leans down to grab one of his weapons from his ankle holster, firing twice and hitting the target dead center both tines.

“I hate you.”

He laughs. It’s a cute laugh. A cute manly laugh. It makes you laugh, even though you’re not really in the laughing mood.

“You don’t.”

He moves you out of the way, shoulder pressed up against yours as he aims, breathing slow and tactile. You watch one of his eyes close, his hands steady.

“You watching?”

Oh yes. Yes you were.

He fires one round, makes note of its placement, and then fires two more in the same spot. He moves up toward the head of the paper target and lands another two right to the face.

“Keep breathing when you shoot.”

You pay special attention to the way his shoulders move, the way his hands grip the glock.

“You breathe out, and slowly pull the trigger—”

His face is steely.

“—and just when you can't breathe, you—”

The shot scares you from your concentration. Sure as shit, he made his mark.

“So a murderer is running at me and I’m going to sit here doing yoga and breathing techniques?”

He exhales, endearingly annoyed.

“No, but you need to know the basics before I can teach you the cool stuff.”

That piques your interest.

“Cool stuff huh? Like what?”

He puts the gun in his suit pocket which can’t be safe. He takes a steadying breath, levels his feet, and in two seconds it was in front of him, firing and hitting his mark one-handed.

You pout and nod, impressed.

“Well I’d hate to be that guy,” you say, gesturing to the poor dummy who was elected for target practice.

“Watch this,” he says, clearly loving the attention, moving it into his nondominant hand, and doing the exact same thing. It’s a little more dispersed over his mark, but still lethal nonetheless.

You tried to get it. And you tried. And you tried.

You didn’t think you’d ever get it.

It’s so all over the place. In the whites of the target, some above, some below. But never hitting it. It was frustrating.

“Breathe,” Hotch reminds. It pisses you off.

“I’m not just gonna stop,” you lash, turning to him, gun pointed at the target, unmoving. You sigh and focus.

Hotch comes up from behind you. He places your hands on your shoulders and lets out an exaggerated breath. You imitate him. A few rounds of breaths and you’ve calmed down. He’s so close to you, and though it’s hard to hear him, you can feel his breath on your neck. So close you can imagine his lips on your throat, hard and passionate. With Hotch's hands gently lingering on you, you fired. The shot was centimeters off from a bullseye.

Excitement shot through you, immediately placing the gun down carefully and pulling off the earmuffs, turning in Hotch’s grip to look back at him.

“I did it!”

He chuckled, pulling his own down to around his neck, grinning as he looked down at you, “You did it.”

As your eyes fell briefly to his lips, you realize how close the two of you were. At some point after you had moved, his hands rested on your arms now, holding you to him. You had one of yours on his chest.

He rubbed his hands soothingly up and down your arms, almost as if in a trance, before returning back to your shoulders, awkwardly patting you there.

Clearing your throat slightly, you pulled back from him reluctantly.

You give him a sheepish smile, “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

He nodded, “Of course. Here to help.”

The silence that followed was uncomfortable. Neither one of you knew what to say.

In typical Hotchner fashion, he gave you a curt nod, holstering his weapon and heading towards the door, “Good luck tomorrow. You got this.”

YOU did indeed have this. You had passed. And you made sure Hotch was the first person you told.

He answered your call almost instantly.

“Y/N?”

“I did it!”

The line was quiet for only a second before he responded, and you could practically hear the smile through the phone, “I knew you could.”

“Only because you helped. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Let me take you out.”

Your smile faltered for only a second, but your voice didn’t as you teased, “What, with a sniper or on a date?”

His laughter filled your ear, “The latter would certainly be less messy.”

“So you’re asking me out?”

You were both quiet. You, waiting for a response, him nervously debating his.

“To celebrate. Just two colleagues having a drink.”

Right. Colleagues. He was your boss.

“Sure,” You masked your own disappointment, nodding despite yourself.

“Does eight work?”

HOTCH was already there when you arrived. He was wearing jeans and a button up shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbow as he scrolled through something on his phone.

“Am I late?”

You smile as you slip into the booth across from him, ignoring the way his eyes raked over your frame as you sat down.

“No,” he chuckled. “I’m just early.”

You nod, glancing over him once more. You’re sure he notices, the smile tugging on his lips evident, so you nudge him playfully with your foot.

“I thought you didn’t like jeans!”

“Why would you think that?” He chuckled.

“Because! You never wear them. When someone doesn’t like something, they usually stay away from it.”

“You’ve never seen me outside of work,” he points out, “I don’t wear jeans at work.”

“Right, but isn’t this a coworker thing?”

The blush dusting his cheeks was so light you almost missed it. Almost. The blush on his ears was a little brighter.

“Well, it’s an us thing.”

“Like just us?”

“Yeah.” He smiled.

You nod, pulling out your phone very quickly, and hopefully not too late, to text the other colleagues you had invented to the outing, telling them it was off and that you’d explain later and that you were, “so so so so sorry. bout to get some. tell you later. DON’T COME.”

Glancing at the front door behind Hotch, with almost perfect timing, Morgan pushes the door open. In one swift motion, he glances down at his phone, holding the door open for the person behind him, reads your message, surveys the room, and walks back out. You would have to buy him flowers later.

Hotch follows your gaze.

“Was that Morgan?” He questions.

You panic, playing dumb.

“What? No. Did you invite him?” You claim, accusitorally.

“No—” he goes to say, but the barmaid is over by your table, taking your orders.

You drop the conversation topic quickly, opting to bring something else up after she leaves, not wanting to bring too much attention to your lie.

“I was serious about before. I really appreciate the help.”

“So much so that you wanted me to take you out with a sniper?”

You laugh loudly, “Listen, sometimes the idea is appealing.”

He chuckles, “It was nothing really. I’m just glad you learned from me, Emily said you were having a hard time focusing.”

“Well, I mean it was kinda hard to not focus.”

“Why?”

You feel his stare burn into you.

“I mean… nevermind.”

“What?”

“Nothing. I said, nevermind,” you huff, “You’re supposed to nevermind it.”

“I just want to know what you were going to say.”

“Well, I said nevermind. Let’s not—let’s not talk about it. I… No. Nevermind. Nevermind it. Wow,” you mumbled, swirling the alcohol you had been brought around in the glass, “This is some strong shit.”

Hotch leans forward on his forearms, his eyes practically boring into your soul. The button up is so carefully, meticulously rolled up at the sleeves. You feel like a 14th century victorian widow, drooling over his arms like that.

“No, come on, what’s wrong.”

“Little personal, don’t you think?”

“No. I don’t.”

“What’s wrong with you then?”

“What?”

“If it’s not that personal. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Well, there’s this young woman sitting across from me who won’t talk to me. And if she doesn’t talk to me for the entire night, I think… I think it’s going to be a pretty boring night.”

“I dunno,” you say, melancholic, “sometimes boring is better.”

“Alright. I’ll drop it,” he says, hands up in defeat.

You stare at him sadly. You don’t mean to, but you’re a little tipsy and every single consequence you’re not thinking of is a charlatan.

“This would be a lot easier if you weren’t my boss.”

“So pretend that I’m not.”

He says the words so quietly, you almost don’t hear him. His eyes never once leave yours, pupils dilating as he glanced down to yours lips.

Every rational part of you was telling you that this was a bad idea. But God were you irrational.

You slip out of your side of the booth and into his, slipping a hand against his chest, as one of his finds its way to your waist. The position is all too familiar, almost mirroring exactly what the two of you had whilst practicing. But this time was different.

This time, you two were working on something else.

“Well then, not-my-boss… is that a gun in your pants or are you just happy to see me?”

PART TWO HERE