#messing around with half tone kind of gave him that screens but they act like eyes look

[an-albino-pinetree]

A quick de-goggled lad

[mingishoe]

Jerk | Ateez OT8

Summary: After a long couple of weeks that consisted of nothing but photoshoots and filming, San came up with an idea to help the members loosen up a bit.

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Azeez/OT8,,, Yunho is still a major sub and subby Wooyoung and Jongho

Word Count: 3.1k

Smut Warning: Jerk circle, high-key a little more than a jerk circle, yeah… definitely way past a jerk circle, obviously MXM, MXM touching, masturbating, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, dirty talk, orgy? Idk they’re not really fucking??? Dick sucking, mouth fucking, kinda ass eating? and Yunho and Wooyoung are pretty cum sluts

@jonghoshoe @cloudyyeonnie @barnesbabee and I forgot the other person who told me to @ them but 😳

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

All the members had been super stressed and tired after a long week of photoshoots and filming, so San had offered to set up a movie night for the members. Unfortunately, Yeosang, Hongjoong, Jongho, and Mingi had made a dinner reservation which left the rest of the members with San.

Regardless, San was happy to pick a nice movie and some snacks to eat. San thought it would be funny to pick a raunchy movie and watch it together. Maybe make one of them a little bit flustered… Flustered was the word he wanted. Horny MiGhT nOt have been the word he was exactly looking for but he’d take what he got.

The four of them were lying across the floor, San lying on Seonghwa’s lap, and Wooyoung and Yunho were underneath a blanket. They were mindlessly eating popcorn while they were half-watching the movie that San had picked out until suddenly everyone’s head snapped up as the room filled with moans.

Originally everyone had thought it had been one of them but then they heard loud female moaning and it obviously couldn’t be them. Their eyes were glued to the TV screen like the horny boys they are, “San?! What kind of movie is this?!?” Seonghwa shifted underneath San.

San laughed and turned to face Seonghwa while still on his lap, “Dunno, I just picked something random.”

Their attention is back on the screen, minus San who keeps his eyes trained on Seonghwa’s face and the subtlest amount of pressure on his crotch.

The camera panned down to show two people in the middle of some pretty intense sex. There was a gasp from one of the boys as it suddenly showed boobs bouncing, “Are you sure this isn’t porn?!” Seonghwa pushed San off of his lap as he adjusted his pants.

“What do you mean Hyung? Is it getting you a little bit… excited?” San’s eyes flicked from his eyes to the obvious boner in his sweats.

Wooyoung snorts and starts to laugh loudly and Yunho elbows him, “Wooyoung don’t act- you have one too.”

There’s a pause. A long pause as the four of them is staring at each other. San has a mischievous glint in his eyes and he exchanges glances with Wooyoung and Seonghwa. Yunho takes the hint and his cheeks immediately get red, “San- Don’t even think about it-”

“Aw come on! Why not? It’ll be fun!” San raised his eyebrows suggestively at Yunho.

Yunho knew he was right… he honestly wanted to but he just needed to make sure San was being serious and not just joking like how he normally is.

“Right Hwa? It’ll be fun, huh?” As San spoke, he kinda pulled on the waistband of his sweats revealing his V line.

Wooyoung and Seonghwa spoke up at the same time, “It’ll be fun.”

Their attention turned to Yunho whose face was still bright red. His fingers were fiddling with his sweats before San spoke back up, “It’s okay Pup. Need some help?”

San takes Yunho’s hand and leads him until he’s in front of the three boys. They each have their hands somewhere on Yunho: San was busy taking his shirt off, Seonghwa was pulling his sweats off, and Wooyoung let his hands trail down Yunho’s stomach down to his leaking red cock.

Yunho was already shaking from the several pairs of hands on him, until suddenly everyone took their hands off of him, “Lay down babe.” Wooyoung’s hands slowly push Yunho down on his back.

The remaining boys circle Yunho as he looks up at them with wide eyes as they all rush to undress.

San moves to straddle Yunho’s lap and takes both his cock and Yunho’s in his hands. He has both hands wrapped around both cocks and he slowly starts to thrust his cock in his hand and against Yunho’s.

Yunho’s hands immediately reach up to grip San’s wrists, “Ah- Wait! Fuck-”

“It’s alright Pup. You can cum as many times as you want. And you’re gonna be our pretty little cum dump.” Yunho’s blush spread to his neck and chest from being called a cum dump but he’d gladly take everything his members gave him. He wants to be their stress reliever.

Yunho nods and lets himself relax as San continues his soft thrusting. Seonghwa takes Yunho’s hand off of San and replaces it with his cock, Wooyoung doing the same.

Yunho feels an overwhelming feeling of pleasure and satisfaction as everyone is using him for their own pleasure. His eyebrows are furrowed and his lip in between his teeth as his eyes switch between the three different cocks, “Moan for us, pretty boy. Let us hear those pretty noises of yours.”

Yunho’s eyes are trained on Seonghwa and his cock until San begins to jerk him just right. Loud whines and groans flow from Yunho’s mouth as he tries to angle his hips away from San’s touch as Yunho’s cock throbs at San’s touch, “S-San! Sansansan! His grip on Wooyoung and Seonghwa’s cocks tighten as he’s on the verge of cumming.

“Go ahead. Make a mess.” The room is filled with moans from the four boys as they’re all pathetically close to cumming after such a short period of time.

Neither of the boys can remember the last time they touched themselves, or each other, with how busy they’ve been and it was all crashing down on them at once.

The first to cum was Yunho. Yunho was always so sensitive and everyone knew exactly how to touch him, so he hardly ever lasted more than 4 or 5 minutes without being edged but Yunho’s lucky he loves being overstimulated because it happens pretty much every time.

Yunho’s hips were grinding into San’s hand alongside his cock as his cum squirts all over his stomach and chest.

Yunho’s soft begs of their names and the movements of his slick, cum covered hands made Wooyoung and Seonghwa cum almost simultaneously all over Yunho.

The two boys sat back for a minute to catch their breath and watched as San continued to rut against Yunho’s cock, “Please Sannie! G-Give it to me! Give me your c- Hnng-” Yunho’s cock started throbbing harshly as he was on the verge of cumming twice in a row, “Cum. C-Cum on me. Please! H-Hurry before I-I cum again!”

San laughed softly as he glanced to Wooyoung who already looked worn out, “It’s alright Pup. We’ll all give you so much more.”

San’s cock made lewd squelching noises as his cum was mixing with Yunho’s. It wasn’t until San looked down at Yunho’s cock and stomach was he about to cum.

San was typically the one who had the most stamina out of the boys, but everyone knew that he had a weak spot for Yunho.

San’s eyes were glued to Yunho’s cock that was still fully hard and red from the overstimulation. His eyes trailed up slightly and loud moans spilled from his lips as he was looking at Yunho’s cum stained abs contract from his incoming orgasm, “G-Gonna give it to you P-Pup.”

With a shaky voice, San let out a couple of drawn-out whines as he gripped onto his cock tightly as he watched Yunho’s facial expressions closely until he came on Yunho.

The cum of the four boys was mixed on Yunho and they all looked down at him with flushed cheeks and heavy breaths.

San removed himself from Yunho’s lap and grabbed onto Wooyoung’s hand to pull him onto Yunho, “Go on Woo.”

Wooyoung lets out a whine as he bends down to take Yunho’s cock in his mouth. Wooyoung eagerly sucks on Yunho’s cock that’s most definitely too big for him, and groans as he tastes Yunho’s and San’s mixed cum.

Yunho whines loudly as Wooyoung sucks on him like it’s what he’s made for, “W-Wooyoung! Ah- fuck! G-Gonna cum!”

Just as Yunho was about to cum, the front door swung open and Wooyoung pulled away from Yunho quickly. Yunho let out a pathetic sob as he started to grind his hips into the air trying to chase Wooyoung’s mouth.

Yunho didn’t even notice the door open or the rest of the members stopping in their tracks as they saw the naked boys in the middle of the room.

It was only until Mingi let out a loud laugh, that he finally looked in their direction, “Need some help there?”

Mingi didn’t hesitate to drop his things at the door to make his way towards his poor friend who had the most desperate look on his face.

As Mingi made his way to Yunho he simultaneously removed himself of his clothing, leaving a trail of clothes, “M-Mingi! Please!”

At this point, Yunho didn’t care who touched him. He was just so desperate to cum. His eyes were practically begging for Mingi to do absolutely anything to him. Since Mingi was significantly bigger than Wooyoung, he was easily able to take most of Yunho down his throat. Yunho immediately gripped Mingi’s hair and his hips thrust into Mingi’s throat with loud moans.

Yunho suddenly forgot about the rest of the boys who had only previously just walked in, and was only focused on Mingi’s mouth.

Jongho had absolutely no words as San looked at him with a lopsided smile that was very innocent compared to the sight in front of them.

Jongho felt himself become flushed and hot as he practically ran to his room. San laughed softly because he knew that Jongho would get over his pride and join the rest of them in 10 minutes max.

Hongjoong and Yeosang were stood in the same spot as they glanced at each other before Yeosang spoke up in a condescending tone, “Are y’all really that desperate?” But in the same breath says, “One of y’all move over.”

Everyone’s attention is drawn back to Yunho as he lets out a choked sob as Mingi sucks him off just like he loves so much, “G-Gonna cum again! Please Mingi! It- ah!”

Yunho’s whines and begs got cut off as his second orgasm ripped through his entire body. His back arched beautifully and his hips were squirming as Mingi continued to take everything Yunho was giving him.

Mingi’s deep groans were vibrating Yunho’s over-sensitive cock and Mingi finally pulled away with a loud pop.

In Jongho's room, he can hear the loud whines and desperate moans coming from Yunho, his leaking cock begging to be touched. His hips ground themselves into his mattress to get some kind of pleasure without actually touching himself because, in all honesty, he was too embarrassed to do so.

“J-Jongho!” Jongho let out a soft whine as he heard his name being called by Yunho.

“Jongho, sweetheart… there’s no need to do it all by yourself.” Jongho looked at the doorway and saw Seonghwa standing there, completely naked and cock hard, as he referred to the way he was rutting himself onto the mattress, “Come let us help you… Yunho will be more than happy, you know.”

Seonghwa holds his hand out for Jongho to take, and finally, Jongho sucks it up and gets up. He lets Seonghwa take him to where the rest of the members were and everyone’s attention was on him.

Yunho sits up and Jongho's eyes are glued to his cum stained figure and his cock twitches. Seonghwa lets his hands run over Jongho to help him relax a little bit before he starts to undress him.

Jongho makes his way to Yunho to sit on his lap. Yunho wraps his arms around him, smearing cum on the younger boy.

Jongho shoves his head in Yunho’s neck as he starts to grind himself on Yunho’s cock. San looks at Yunho in amazement. He can’t believe that Yunho is still as hard as before, his erection never going down.

He turns his attention to Yeosang who is stroking his cock as he’s watching the two boys in the center of the circle they’ve created, “Look at our pretty whores.”

Jongho let out a loud moan at San’s words. He turned to look at them and saw San’s hand making his way down Yeosang’s abs down to grip onto his cock.

Jongho's eyes were shifting to each member as he saw them each with either theirs or another, cock in their hand. Jongho’s body suddenly stiffened as he thrashed harshly as Yunho took hold of his ass and began thrusting along with Jongho.

Mingi who had previously just been with Yunho cocked his head at the sight in front of him. His cock was throbbing and deep moans spilled out his swollen lips as he harshly jerked himself off.

Wooyoung let out pathetic whimpers as his eyes were glued to Mingi who was next to him. His eyes were glossy and his eyes were begging for Mingi to touch him. Wooyoung took hold of Mingi’s hand and almost started crying with relief at the friction.

In turn, Mingi did the same. He grabbed Wooyoung’s hand and wrapped it around his leaking cock. Mingi thrust himself into Wooyoung’s hand and before he knew it, ropes of cum squirted onto Jongho’s ass.

Jongho felt the hot cum squirt on his ass and soon after he felt it once again, and turned to see Wooyoung with tears falling down his red cheeks, “Pleaseplease fuck! M-Mingi fuck! F-Feels so good!”

Jongho suddenly got overwhelmed. Yunho’s touch feels 10x stronger and he cums. Yunho lets out another sob and he can’t stop the tears that begin to spill from his eyes as he cums for the third time.

Jongho and Yunho’s cum mixes together and Jongho lets himself back onto his knees and Hongjoong makes his way in front of Jongho and pushes his head down so he could swiftly push his cock past his pretty lips.

Until now, Hongjoong had stayed mostly quiet, only softly jerking himself as he watched the rest of his members, but Hongjoong became restless.

Jongho gripped Hongjoong’s thigh as he began to thrust into his mouth. Jongho let out choked noises but further tilted his head to take more of Hongjoong’s cock.

From behind him, he felt something slide between his ass, and then he heard Yeosang’s voice, “S‘alright. Not gonna fuck you. At least not today…”

With that, Yeosang started thrusting himself between Jongho's ass in time with Hongjoongs.

Jongho's choked moans and groans were vibrating against Hongjoong’s cock. Jongho had his eyes glued on both Hongjoong and Yeosang who were above them, and he let out a loud sob when Yeosang pulled Hongjoong in for a long kiss.

Jongho watched with droopy eyes as Hongjoong shoved his tongue into Yeosang’s throat. As their make out got more intense, so did both of their thrusts. Jongho's eyes were watering and he was gagging as Hongjoong’s cock continuously slammed against the back of his throat.

An accidental swallow around Hongjoong’s cock was the final trigger and his cum shot down Jongho's throat. As he came down from his high he pulled away from Yeosang and slowly pulled out of Jongho's mouth, with a string of saliva connecting the two.

Yeosang turns around when he hears a chorus of groans and sees Wooyoung attaching his lips to Yunho.

Yeosang is watching with a flushed expression as Wooyoung is licking and sucking all the cum off of Yunho’s cock, thighs, stomach, and chest.

Wooyoung let’s out content hums as he makes his way up Yunho’s body, making sure not to miss a drop of cum on the way,

“Such a cum slut.” San laughs condescendingly at Wooyoung, “then, when Yeosang is finished, why don’t you go and help clean Jongho up?”

Wooyoung eagerly nodded and turned his attention to Yeosang, “H-Hyung, please! Cum. Please cum! I-I’ll be a good boy and clean it all up for you!”

Yeosang lets out a shaky laugh, “Y-Yeah? You’ll clean up Jongho like a good boy? Like a good little cum slut?”

“Yeah- y-yours. Your cum slut.” Yeosang let out a deep groan at Wooyoung’s words and he finally let himself cum. He smirked slightly in between his deep moans and grunts as he made sure to cover Jongho‘s ass, and even slightly lower to his balls, with cum.

As soon as Wooyoung could tell Yeosang was done, he pushed him to the side and immediately made contact with his ass.

At first Jongho was fine. It was only on his cheeks that Wooyoung had been so eagerly licking the cum off, but then he pulled away and before he knew it, he took the entirety of Jongho‘s cock in his mouth, taking the last bit of cum off of it.

Jongho squeezed his eyes shut and his entire body spasmed as Wooyoung spread Jongho open and licked and sucked around his rim, “Woo! Ah- fuck!” And without any warning, Jongho came for the second time.

Wooyoung’s eyes widened and he somehow managed to place Jongho‘s cock in his mouth to catch the rest of his cum.

Jongho was completely exhausted. He was leaning most of his weight on Wooyoung who held onto him tightly.

Yunho was spaced out with heavy breaths as Mingi carefully played with his hair.

Seonghwa and Hongjoong had gotten up to get washcloths and bottles of water to help clean the rest of the members up.

Seonghwa passed a washcloth to a couple different members so they could help each other. Mingi gently ran the washcloth over Yunho’s face to wipe his rosey tear stained cheeks then over his stomach and thighs to clean him up as much as possible.

Wooyoung was ever so gently cleaning Jongho because of how worn out and sensitive he was, and San and Yeosang were both lying across the sofas with a dreamlike gaze on their face.

“Thank you San. It was fun…” Yunho mumbled as him and Mingi walked off to his room to take probably the best sleep he’d get in weeks.

“Maybe next time we’ll have even more fun… what do you say, Jongho?” Wooyoung ran his fingers through his hair as Jongho laughed softly as he nodded.

San was already most definitely thinking about the next time something like this could happen… he was just dying to absolutely ruin one of his pretty friends.

[apixrl]

DRIVER'S LICENSE.

katsuki bakugou x fem! reader

WARNING(S): angst. cheating. swearing because it's bakugou.

word count: 4.5k

song: drivers license // olivia rodrigo (i wonder why...)

note(s): so i captioned this *at the time of writing* 'hello and welcome to i've had the worst two weeks ever so i wrote a katsuki oneshot to cope' and it's probably one of my most personal pieces of writing tbh

"-come Tuesday and we'll potentially see an end to this heavy downpour of rain. Temperatures will be on the rise to around-"

The talk on the radio cut short at the jab of your finger, heaving a great sigh which faded into the muffled pitter-patter of rain from outside. The streets had been showered with heavy downpours for the last week or so, no sign of sun or a still and restful day. Notwithstanding the miserable outdoors, the windscreen wipers on your car never ceased in their duty to grant you a clear view of the road ahead. And whilst you were grateful for their devotion, it didn't feel clear in the slightest. In fact, the road had never felt so blurry.

Shivering against the cold night chill and tucking your knees cosily to your chest, you eyed the raindrops on the windows. They raced against one another before they dripped down to your car's body, their glossy presence obvious thanks to the many hues of street lamps that surrounded them. You could have watched them for hours, being honest. Something about the droplets of water battling it out quite enticing. Anything to take you away from the cruel reality you were living in.

Your heart ached and yearned. But to no avail, the one you ached and yearned for didn't love you back.

Not anymore, at least.

Just the mere thought provoked a pulsating pang to resonate throughout your entire body. A pang filled with grief and sadness. Anger and hurt. You missed his sun-kissed face on the sunny mornings. You missed his eyes and how they gazed at you from across the room. You missed the smiles and laughter he would only show for you and you alone. The sense of glee and euphoria that came with that honour. Yet all of it was gone and there was no way you could get it back.

The memories of what had been triggered more waterworks. Hot, salty tears dug at the corners of your eyes and trickled down your face. Your motionless car concealed your cries and sobs. Every thrash against the wheel as you questioned to nobody in particular what went wrong and why. How you didn't see the signs sooner. What you could have done better. When he stopped loving you. If he ever planned to stop loving you. Whether it would have hurt more if you found out sooner.

All these questions with nothing to answer them.

Katsuki Bakugou had always fascinated you. From the very moment you met. You accompanied your friend on a double date, and he was the guy who she matched for you. Whilst he originally acted as though a blind date was the last place he wanted to be, underneath the aggression you could tell there was something much more genuine and true.

And your assumptions were correct. Truth be told, Katsuki Bakugou was one of the most genuine and truest people you had met (at the time). Once it was just the two of you, he allowed his true colours to unveil. Through the smallest of kind gestures that still haunted your mind to this day. Then upon confrontation, as you bid each other goodbye at your back door, his denial resulted in a flirtatious contest which then proceeded to an intimate night that changed your life forever. From there your mind was set.

He was the one.

Emphasis on was.

So blinded with a fairy tale love you grew so accustomed to, you never saw it coming. Never in your two-year relationship - that had so much strength and commitment built on top of it, never did you think that Katsuki Bakugou would throw it all out of the window like it was nothing. Disregard your loyalty and adoration for a drunken one night stand that slowly became an occasional hookup. Which soon became a mandatory pastime once a fortnight. Then twice. Maybe more than that. You wouldn't put it past him with what you knew now.

He kept it from you for nearly six months. Six months. The only reason you discovered his lies and deception was because you were let off early one night from work. You worked a night shift, see. Your last job had fallen to shambles, and it was temporary whilst you searched for a new one. And whilst that did take a toll on your relationship with Katsuki Bakugou, mostly finding time for intimacy since his working hours were during the day, none of that gave him any right to go and do what he did.

That wasn't one of the only reasons, you knew that for sure. There were other motives for his lack of loyalty. But you were never told. After you froze at the sight of another woman under his hold and stormed straight back to your car to flee. After he chased you down the flights of stairs in nothing but baggy pants into the streets of a twilight Musutafu. After you screamed into the darkness and belted your fists against his chest. Fists that were driven with rage and hurt and every emotion that burned like the hottest of fires and froze like the coldest of ice. He never even told you. He never made an effort to address it. Nor had he attempted to call or even try to visit your Mom's house - where you stayed as you searched for a permanent place to live. Just because you retreated for your car and cried that it was over, he never tried. But that didn't mean you weren't allowed an explanation. An apology. Something to give you a form of closure and a reason to move on. But you never did.

That wasn't even what hurt the most, either.

As silly as it was, the thing that hurt you the most was the very car you sat in.

EIGHT MONTHS AGO . . .

The red glow of traffic lights hit Katsuki's vermilion irises as he stared dead ahead at the long line of vehicles, the ash-blond heaving a sigh into the air. His finger tapped impatiently against the steering wheel he gripped with one hand, the spare rested casually against your upper thigh affectionately.

"I can't believe we have to sit through this torture just to go to some damn party," Katsuki grumbled, taking a glance over at you. His brows furrowed when he met you peacefully slouched down, nose dug into your phone as you presumably played some sort of game to pass the time. Like you had no care in the world for your predicament.

"It's your best friend's birthday, love," You mused back, Katsuki surprised you even listened based on your focused expression directed towards your phone. "It's not like we can just miss it,"

"Yeah, but we could have missed all this pain by taking the train instead of driving across town during rush hour,"

"Trains are icky, the seats would have ruined your suit and my dress," You pointed out, looking at the blond over your screen, sending him a sweet smile. He cocked a brow, a smirk creeping its way onto his lips as a scoff of a laugh broke out between them.

"Right, and laying down like a sloth is gonna help keep your dress uncreased?" He returned, amused at your realisation. At his comment, you sat up faintly and pouted your lip.

"Driving means more time to play Gravity Pops, and so does traffic,"

"Seriously? That's the game you're playing? You're such a dumbass,"

"Yes! I'm in the top 11% globally! I need to get to number one!" Was your protest, your arms flailing ahead of you briefly for dramatic emphasis. Katsuki clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, though the small smile plastered over his lips betrayed his initial reaction. Unable to deny your determination, he spoke with confidence and almost a sense of pride.

"Number one, hm? Clearly rubbing off on you aren't I?"

"In a way, yes,"

"That's my girl," Katsuki remarked, earning a giggle from you that was uplifting to hear. It was there your attention went back to your phone, but Katsuki wasn't done. "So, speaking of cars, Y/N," Hearing his chosen tone - which sounded suggestive, you eyed him closely. Hesitant to reply as you had a sense of what he planned to say.

"...Yes?"

"Have you thought any more about getting your driver's license yet?"

Called it.

"...No,"

"What?" Katsuki began, tilting his head. He was surprised that he felt surprised. You had said those words in regards to this topic countless times. Still, he persisted. "Is that a no meaning you haven't or no meaning that you don't want to?"

"Both?" You half-guessed, sheepishly grinning at the look you were sent. "Look, cars scare me okay? And so do roads. And people. My nerves wouldn't be able to handle it! I can barely communicate with people face to face, so me being on the road is a recipe for disaster!"

"I know but -," Katsuki exhaled sharply, understanding your reasoning. You had voiced these concerns when confiding to Katsuki about your fears of the road. Something built and corrupted from social media as well as phobias and fears in general, it was a battle you had yet to overcome. You wanted to drive but was terrified of messing up or causing chaos on the road. Potentially inflicting harm to someone and yourself. You still weren't sure what triggered it all, but over the years it had manifested into something quite irrational, to say the least. Katsuki had been supportive of it and whilst he truly would love to always act as your personal taxi - you couldn't hide from it forever. It wasn't his job to keep you in your comfort zone. That, and he couldn't always be there for you that way. What if he was miles away and you had somewhere urgent to go like the hospital? "It's not as scary as you think. I know it's hard to believe that but seriously. The freedom you get from driving is amazing,"

"I'll think about it a little longer, okay?" You said with hesitancy, looking at Katsuki for a sign of confirmation. He nodded in defeat, knowing you probably needed more time and felt put on the spot. So he averted his eyes back to the road to check if the traffic had moved at all. It had not.

"Okay," Katsuki said. "But I can't be your taxi service forever,"

"But I like you being my taxi service," You jokingly said, a little sadness in your tone. "Your road rage is funny and I like watching you get out of the car and walk to my door after pulling up in my driveway,"

"What do you mean?" Katsuki asked, catching the twitch of a smile on your face upon saying those words. It struck his interest in what you could mean.

"You know, like when you say you're coming to pick me up?" You explained. "You pull up at my driveway and I don't know... simple things like that just remind me of how much I love you. It's dumb really, but it's important to me,"

"Really?" Katsuki questioned in disbelief. How something so small and meaningless could mean so much was puzzling. He couldn't understand why it was so special to you. But that didn't invalidate it in any shape or form. So he pushed that aside, replacing his wonder with gratitude. He returned to your bashful and flustered features, feeling a smile grow on his face.

"Yeah," You said, shrugging to downplay your words. "I love you. Stuff like that means a lot to me,"

"I love you too, even though you're a dumbass," Katsuki said, humbled by what you had said. The two of you shared a gentle exchange, your hand grabbing hold of Katsuki's as you gave it a squeeze. He squeezed back, and silence ensued. Had he realised such a thing sooner, then Katsuki would have pulled up in your driveway much more than he had been doing. But at that a thought struck his mind, victoriously smirking as he had an idea on how to potentially sway your worries. Or begin swaying it. Something was better than nothing, after all. "But what if I wanted you to pull up in my driveway one day?" His words caused you to look over at him in curiosity, hearing the seriousness in the question. It caught you off guard momentarily, having to contemplate as you gradually concluded that he had a point.

"Well one day, maybe I will," You vaguely replied and sat up a little bit. The hand holding yours pulled back and lifted to land on your shoulder, gripping reassuringly tight.

"I hope you do, I'd like to get in on this driveway action," He joked and smirked, faith riddled in his expression. You giggled ever so slightly, tempted to lean forward and peck Katsuki on the lips in thanks, but never a thing was to happen as the alerting red light from outside switched to warm amber.

"Ah!" Katsuki yelled in triumph, his attention leaving you swiftly as he got back into the driver's seat. Giving you no opportunity to respond to him and overall ruining the moment. "Took fucking long enough!"

The light turned green, and he set the car in motion, leaving you with your thoughts and the words he had uttered that day as the traffic stood still.

All your efforts, all your time devoted to getting over your fear of driving and the road as a whole... all of it was pointless. You did it for him. You promised him you would overcome your fears and better yourself. He built that motivation up brick by brick until you could grab hold and seize control. He wasted all that time to get you to reach such a stepping stone only to abandon it once it was through.

Just so you could pull up in his driveway, just like he requested. And what did you get in return when you finally did? A stab in the back and the loss of your other half.

You wiped your eyes via the sleeve of your hoodie, dampening the cuffs. Sniffling and exhaling a shaky breath, your gaze landed on nothing in particular. Yet somewhere within your clouded mind, you found interest. As that was where your gaze remained for a certain amount of time. You weren't sure how long exactly. It could have felt like an hour and only been five minutes. Or it could have felt like five minutes and was actually an entire hour. Either way, the clock ticked on and didn't wait for you to stop.

It was a good thing you had pushed your fears down and rose above them. It just pained you that you didn't even do it for yourself. Without Katsuki Bakugou, you never had any intentions of doing so. As a matter of fact, you had set out to take the train or bus for the rest of your life. Hell, you were going to use a bike and scooter if you got desperate. Had he even acknowledged how much work you put in just to get where you were? Was all that effort part of the reason why he decided to cheat? There was absolutely no telling. Absolutely no telling at all.

You wondered what he was doing now. Was he laid in bed resting peacefully? Out with his friends for a boy's night only? Maybe cooking his favourite curry? Possibly on a late-night jog despite the harsh weather? It never stopped him other times.

Did he ever think about you? Regret what he did and the actions he took? Had he ever considered apologising? Would he ever apologise? What if he was celebrating the fact you were no longer in his life? Had there ever been any love there for you in the start? Did he ever actually want you to get your driver's license because he believed in you? Or was it so he could get rid of you with much more ease? Make his departure less severe and less selfish? A way to justify his choices because it's not like you were hopelessly left to suffer everyday life now that you had a means of transport. Was he really that cruel?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sharp jingle of your phone, the device lighting up as it sat in the passenger seat to your left. It took two or three rings for you to glance over at it, E/C eyes sore and drained from crying out. You squinted them to read the caller, seeing the name 'Work' fade in and out on the brightly lit screen. For a second or two you argued back and forth on whether to even bother picking up. Something about reaching across for your phone requiring a magnitude of energy you no longer possessed. Having spent it all on your cries of agony and the deprivation of your old life as a whole.

However, you had ignored your work in the last couple of weeks too many times now. So many times that pulling the same stunt again would probably risk you losing your job. It's not like your work was interested in why you felt such overwhelming pain... all they cared about was you turning up to do what you were hired to.

So using a forceful hand, you leaned over to pick it up. You fumbled to grip your phone and accepted the call with a dainty tap of your thumb. Then you blinked away your tears and subtly sniffed, pressing your phone to your ear to address the caller.

"Hello?" You practically croaked, quick to clear your throat and push any signs of upset down. It was presumably dry from how much you'd cried in the last two hours.

"L/N! Hey! Glad you finally picked up!" Unlike the droll and unvarying tones of your boss, the person on the other end was much more lively and greeting. So much so you could only assume it was none other than your work colleague, Etsuko. Probably the only person you genuinely liked where you worked, and the only person who made the time pass by faster. "I was worried you were gonna leave me on answer phone again,"

"Hm, what? Oh right. Yeah. Sorry about that. Haven't been feeling too great," You lied, even though it wasn't a complete fib. You hadn't been feeling great at all. You had never felt so rock bottom. It all just originated from your mind over anything else. But when did work care about that?

"Sounds like it, I hope you've been okay!" Still cheery as ever, Etsuko followed up with a laugh to fill the silence you created by not saying anything. "Is everything well? It's nothing serious, is it?"

"No. It's not. Just some dumb cold I caught," You excused. "I'm better now, though," Slouching down in your seat, you decided to ask the question that had been roaming your mind the last minute or so. "So why are you calling?"

"Oh, right!" Etsuko said. "Mr Kobashigawa was just wondering when you planned on coming back - for schedule reasons and to get people to fill in for your shifts,"

"I er...," Not entirely sure how to answer, you stuttered as your words cowered away in your attempt to speak. "I don't -,"

"It's okay, he doesn't need an answer yet," Etsuko reassured. "Maybe in the next day or two, though? He wasn't really specific, being honest,"

You sighed at the guilt brewing in your stomach. You weren't even sick for crying out loud! Why were you lying just so you could wallow in your own sadness?! Like that was going to change anything! Sitting around and crying wasn't going to give you what you wanted. You weren't getting him back. Katsuki Bakugou wasn't yours anymore. He made that clear by cheating. By making minimal effort to give you an explanation. By causing you so much pain with little care or concern. Why couldn't you get it through your thick skull that your feelings didn't matter anymore?! That they were being wasted on a lost cause. A lost relationship!

"Well I mean -," You started, running a hand through your hair as you tread carefully on your words. "I could come in tonight? Has Mr Kobashigawa got someone to fill for me yet?"

"Um... no? I don't think so?" Etsuko answered, uncertainty in her voice. "Let me go check. Be right back!" And with that, the line fell dead. The call didn't end, just Etsuko placing the phone down to get an answer for you. Leaving you all by your lonesome once more.

Reflecting, you could see the logic in your thoughts. The best course of action would be to hold your head up high and live life the way it was before. When you were happy. Just... excluding the factors that actually made you happy. Which was him. Wouldn't that be healthier than crying all the time?

Yes, it would. But was it what you wanted? Not really.

"L/N!" The voice in your ear startled you to the point you nearly dropped your phone, panicking through a gasp as you fiddled to grab hold of it again.

"Wa-! Careful you nearly scared me half to death!"

"Oops, sorry!" Etsuko giggled softy, sounding as perky as ever. "I'm just excited to tell you that nobody's filling in your shift! You can still come in for ten-thirty!"

"I-I can?" You asked. After an upbeat 'yeah!' filtered through your ears, you considered your options. Remaining in the serene, quiet confines of your car with only the downfall of rain to accompany you sounded like utter bliss, given how you felt. But you felt an internal kick up the backside which told you - no... demanded you to just get over this moping attitude of yours and look on the bright side. To get over the lack of closure and simply... move on.

Yeah... if he found out you were an utter train wreck thanks to the damage he inflicted; Katsuki Bakugou would probably revel in it. He had a history of gaining pleasure from other's misfortunes... or it was rumoured he did (during his younger years, anyway). You had never wanted to believe it but you couldn't find a reason to refute it anymore. After all you had been through, it seemed to fit his character and personality more than ever. So with that fact apparent, you held a firm forefront and searched for a determined tone, and made your answer to your friend.

"You betcha I'm coming in! I'll see you in half an hour!"

Too enthusiastic? Probably. Still, it was better than acting pessimistic and hopeless. No matter, however, because that was exactly the attitude Etsuko had been hoping for.

"Alrighty!" She exclaimed, smile audible in her voice from the other end. "I can't wait to get our dynamic duo going again! I've missed you!"

"Yeah, me too, 'Suko," You hummed in agreement.

"Great! Catch ya later my partner in crime,"

"Heh. You too, dumbass," You found a reason to smile from her childish behaviour, though your choice of wording seemed to hit a nerve. It did more than that, it practically reverted all that confidence and progress you had made in the last ten minutes of being on the phone. All from one innocent word that escaped your lips.

Dumbass.

That's what he used to call you.

The phone call had ended without you even noticing, your phone still pressed to your ear as a small buzz sounded into it. You stared dead ahead, flashes of all the times he had said that word to you running through your memory. It was his form of a pet name. Some might see it as a little degrading on the surface, but you never minded. Once you learned the deeper meaning of the name, it became something equivalent to the likes of 'Sunshine' or 'Angel'. If anything, you ended up preferring it to those sorts of nicknames. Hence why Katsuki Bakugou had called you it on so many occasions.

No. Stop it. You can't let something like that bother you. Not after the efforts you just went to. Stop. Shaking yourself out of it, you returned to reality and permitted your phone to drop onto your lap. Your hand once holding it gripped onto your steering wheel, the other following shortly behind to do the same.

"I love you too, even if you're a dumbass,"

That rung in your head one final time, tormenting and mocking your present. The things you'd be willing to do to hear him say that to you one last time...

"No," You firmly shook your head, banging it lightly against the headrest to return yourself to reality. An attempt to knock those words to the back of your mind where you could lock them in a securely tight safe for the rest of eternity. "Just... just don't think about it. Easy. Just focus on what you're doing now," You reached for your keys which sat in the ignition, taking hold and turning them ever so slightly. Your car stirred to life, engine rumbling and the dials lighting up in a form of warm greeting. "You're going to work. No more feeling sorry for yourself,"

No more feeling sorry for yourself.

Your eyes set themselves on the road ahead. The vacant, dark and solitary road that didn't wait for you to make your decision. Life moved on after all, so if you were going to do anything - it was to catch up and take the winning lead.

So despite your circumstances; your inner desires and wishes and begs for what you wanted back but to no avail would ever get, you pulled out of your parking space (which had long exceeded the time limit, thankfully nobody was around to see) that drowned in pitiful rains of the night, and began to make your way down the street. In search of a place better than the one you were trapped in.

An endless road that wasn't all that clear, you were going to tackle it. Not for anyone else, unlike the last time you met difficulty and hardships. No, no, no. This time it was for your sake. All the mental energy to recover and become a better version of yourself, in the endgame it was all for you. You could push past all the deceit and lies you had been told and you could push past your normality which was him. Katsuki Bakugou. The man that hurt you as nobody had ever done before. You could create new normality without him.

A thought of forever he created and destroyed, resorted to driving alone past his street, never to be thought of again.

[naralanis]

little bumps in the road (pt. 22)

Previously on LBitR...

Despite J’onn’s somewhat encouraging parting words, Lena felt anything but prepared once he left her and Alex to their brightly lit little cells in this god-forsaken bunker.

Yeah, she ‘knew.’ So what?

At the very least, it just means that she needs to anticipate Lex’s next move. Fantastic; it’s not like she’s been trying and failing to do precisely that for as long as she’s known him.

At best, it means J’onn is hinting at some kind of advantage he seems to think she possesses. That’s the part Lena hasn’t quite figured out yet, and the clock is ticking. For all she knows, Kara may as well be flying right over their heads, and they would be none the wiser… that is, until Lex decides it’s time to play with his toys.

Alex grumbles in her cell, the sheets of her cot rustling as she shifts to sit up. She blinks at Lena for a few moments, studying her, yet not surprised to see her there in the slightest.

She looks like shit.

“Please tell me you’ve got a watch,” Alex mumbles in lieu of a greeting, voice hoarse and slightly groggy.

Lena shakes her head in the negative. Her eyes are glued to the bandages at Alex’s temple—they are crisp and clean, except for a slight, dark red spot right at the center. The agent follows her line of sight with a wry chuckle.

“I tried to get at mine, too,” she explains with a droopy wave at her temple and a tight shrug. “Almost got it, too, before Brainy informed me I was about to melt my brain or something. Lovely little gizmo your brother got us.”

Lena sighs, ashamed despite herself. Alex keeps on speaking, sounding amused—Lena isn’t sure if it’s because she’s using humour to cope with this thoroughly unpleasant, hopeless situation, or if the painkillers they gave her were just that good.

“I have to admit, I am glad I didn’t try it with a fucking piece of glass,” Alex quips as she stands up and stretches. Lena can hear the pop of every vertebrae as the agent cranes her neck.

“So,” Alex continues in the face of Lena’s silence, approaching the crystal-clear barrier separating them and clapping her hands loudly. Her walk is still a little wobbly. “We can’t get these things off. What’s the plan then, Luthor?”

Lena—who so far has just been standing in the same spot, biting her lip and mulling over what J’onn had said—whips back to face the agent so fast she almost gives herself whiplash.

“Plan?” she says, feeling her voice squeak in the way it often does when she’s about to descend into hysterics. That has been happening a little too frequently as of late, so she takes a moment to close her eyes and breathe deeply through her nose, centering herself.

“There is no plan,” she says, crossing her arms—the cast makes the familiar action a tad awkward, and it takes her a few seconds to get it somewhat right.

Alex simply eyes her impassively for a few moments, and then loudly sucks air through her teeth and releases it. “OK, then,” she says, not sounding as resigned as the situation probably warrants, which throws Lena for a loop. “So, we make a new one.”

Lena wants to make a sarcastic comment about what kind of meds they must have given Alex for her to entertain such a ridiculous notion, but she reins it in at the last moment and opts for a skeptical quirk of her brow instead.

“By all means,” she drawls, unable to keep her sarcasm fully at bay. “If you have any suggestions, I’m all ears, because I frankly don’t have any. We’re locked in an underground bunker until Lex decides to have his way with the nifty little implants he gave us.”

Alex nods, smacking her lips. “I don’t accept that.”

Lena releases a humorless laugh. “I suggest you start,” she waves her broken hand around her cell. “Because it’s pretty hard to ignore.”

Alex takes a few more steps forward; she’s so close her breath fogs the glass. “Then work it out, Luthor.” She puts a finger on the glass; it thunks oddly loudly against the smooth surface as she taps away to punctuate her words. “The way I see it, Lex is going to activate these things in our heads any minute now. I would very much like either of us not hurting my baby sister, thank you very much. So out with it.”

Lena huffs, irked by the demand. “You think I want to hurt Kara? You think I wanted to do it the first time?!”

“You have hurt her before,” Alex retorts. Her tone is calm, but Lena feels it like a slap in the face. “I don’t think you wanted to kill her, but you did encase her in Kryptonite. Don’t act like you’re above hurting her.”

Lena wants to say something back, but her words are stuck in her throat. Alex doesn’t give her a chance to recover and speak, but the gentleness in her tone keeps throwing Lena off.

“And that’s exactly what Lex is going to use against you—what he has used against you already.” She smiles, a little sadly. “You wouldn’t be standing there thinking about what J’onn said if you didn’t think there’s something you can use to get us all out of this mess.”

Lena only realizes she’s crying when her tears cool her cheeks in the dry air of the cell. She steps forward, almost as close to the barrier as Alex is. “It might be nothing,” she says, biting at her lip.

Alex puts her whole palm onto the glass. “But it might be something.”

Lena lets out a wry laugh. “Maybe.” She looks back at Alex, focus narrowing at the bandages at her temple and her matching ones in the reflection of the glass. “When you tried to reach your suppressed memories, how did it feel?”

“Like shit.” Alex shrugs. “Well. That’s an understatement,” she adds on, running a hand through her cropped hair. “It was agony. Hot. Like… lightning in my head. White and bright.”

Lena nods. “When Lex captured me… He triggered something like that—he used specific words to trigger that reaction; though I felt it before… when you met me and Kara in Metropolis, when I tried to remember what really happened.”

Lena’s gaze meets with Alex, and the agent looks more than a little lost. Lena surmises her memories aren’t entirely back just yet. She sighs, waving it away. “That’s not important. But I did accidentally manage to… snap out of it—I stopped whatever he triggered, somehow. And then I tried to dig out the implant,” she adds, almost as an afterthought.

Alex’s forehead bumps against the glass. “How did you stop it?”

Lena chuckles wryly, and raises her casted hand. “I shocked my body out of it,” she explains. “I slammed my broken hand onto a table, and the pain gave me something else to focus on. Then I just…” she flounders, then, because how can Lena explain that she packed whatever Lex had triggered in her brain away into a mental box without sounding like a lunatic?

“You just what?”

Lena sighs, knocks her head against the barrier in frustration. “I put it away,” she mumbles.

Alex blinks. “Excuse me. You did what now?”

“I put it away, Alex. I—I don’t know, I compartmentalized it. I separated it from whatever else I was thinking and feeling, until I could get a handle on it.”

She turns her gaze back to Alex, ready to see the judgement in her eyes, ready to hear her tell Lena she thinks she’s crazy.

To her surprise, the agent looks… impressed.

“OK,” Alex says slowly. “Do you think you could do it again?”

Lena opens her mouth, closes it again. That’s the question, isn’t it? Is that what she’s prepared for? Is that what J’onn meant when he said she knows what to expect?

“Maybe,” she says, only half believing it. “I don’t know.”

“Do you remember what Lex said to trigger the implant?”

Lena nods a somber affirmative. “Do you?”

Alex shakes her head, but her gaze is hopeful. “If you do, maybe… maybe you can turn it around. It’s like a magic trick,” she says, trying to be helpful. “Once you know how it works, the illusion is gone.”

Lena wants to point out that Q-wave and memory manipulation is far from a simple magic trick, but Alex’s words resonate in her mind—how much has she replayed exactly what Lex had said when he left her?

She opens her mouth to speak, but a loud buzzing interrupts her. It seems to be coming from Alex’s pocket—the agent gives her a sheepish look as she pulls out something that looks like a pager.

“I do hope you figure it out soon,” Alex says, eyeing the device grimly. She turns to show Lena a miniscule screen—the contraption was obviously left by Nia or Brainy for one purpose and one purpose only, and Lena’s heart is in her throat when she sees the recognizable sigil blinking over a familiar map. “Because Kara’s back.”

 << Previous || Next >>

[jetaime-jespere]

I Was Enchanted To Meet You

This is a long time in the works, and a gift to my dear friend @cmhotchniss-blog, who sent me her idea of how Aaron and Emily met. Most of the ideas are hers, and I am forever grateful she let me connect some of the dots. 💓

"I’d like to think this is how we were supposed to meet. For a brief moment in time, that’s all. To steer one another in the right direction, if you will.”

One night for Aaron and Emily has a lasting impact on them both, twenty-four years later.

A mess of metal is what’s left behind on a dusky stretch of Route 66. Shattered glass sparkles like diamonds along the wet asphalt in the darkening sky as night meets the last moments of the day. Smoke curls and hisses around the mangled frame of the SUV, the stillness of the air a juxtaposition to the chaos that wraps around them - a slew of first responders, a few ominous rumbles of thunder, the mounting traffic on the other side of the highway. It’s a cacophony of sounds and sirens, shrill and relentless, that bring them all back to the reality that it can’t get much worse than this.

Read the rest below or on ao3!

There’s shouting - so much shouting - the frantic and panicked voices from the normally imperturbable team as one of their own is pulled from the passenger seat, limp and unresponsive. It only took seconds for things to go horribly wrong. Accidents were never supposed to happen, and yet here they were, helplessly surrounding a team of paramedics who were just a little too quiet in their intense focus, their faces stretched a little too thin, a little too grey, as they bent over Emily.

Her speech is slurred; her eyes flutter and blink weakly as they fight to keep her conscious and alert, rattling off blood pressure numbers with thinly veiled concern. They abruptly push JJ to the side, curtly demanding the need for more space to work, bark directions to the hospital, and start preparing to move her into the ambulance.

On the other side, a hand with a set of bitten down nails grapples for purchase at Dave’s shirt, fingers wrapping around the folds of expensive fabric to pull him closer in one last moment of semi lucidity. With a fading grasp Emily drags him down close enough to whisper something inaudible in his ear, words meant for only him to hear. The older man frowns, eyebrows furrowing with confusion as she falls unconscious, the last lick of light disappearing behind the trees.

____

“Dad, are you sleeping?”

Aaron’s eyes snap open a little too quickly, the bowl of popcorn nearly spilling into his lap when he jumps to attention. The voice, a familiar one, is insistent, as if it’s not the first time he’s said his name in the last few minutes. “No,” he says quickly and he’s not entirely sure who he’s reassuring. “No. I was just -”

“Let me guess,” Jack scoffs, taking a large handful from his own, much larger bowl of popcorn in his lap. “Just nodded off.”

“I’m paying attention,” Aaron attempts weakly as Jack laughs under his breath and shakes his head.

“I’ve heard that before.” His son reaches for the remote to rewind the last ten minutes of the scene he’d missed, still laughing. “This is what … the third week in a row?”  While he’s right, Jack doesn’t seem bothered. The years away have made him wise beyond his years, with a patience not often possessed by hormonal teenage boys who spend most of their time with a screen in their face. Aaron often thinks his son inherited the best of Haley - her patience, for starters. He resembles her too, and every now and then, looking at Jack is like looking into a window of the past. A past that could have been a fantasy, for now it seems like so far gone.

“Something like that,” Aaron mumbles. It’s true. In the four months they’ve lived in the quaint Philadelphia suburbs of Chester County, an idyllic place without the Main Line housing prices, adjustment has taken on a new meaning once again. Gone are the fake identities, the constant checking and double checking of doors and windows, the frequent looks over their shoulders, the unsettling notion that it might not end - that this might, unfairly, be their reality. He knows they’d go to the end of the earth to find Scratch - they’d done it before to find Foyet, then Doyle. They fought monsters before, but somehow, this was different.

There had been a finality in his decision to take Jack and go into Witsec. His final act to name Emily as Unit Chief was an easy one, and while it didn’t lessen the blow of the circumstances in which he and Jack left, in a flurry of panic, reminiscent of one his son experienced once before, it gave him a semblance of peace he wasn’t expecting. A little bit of reprieve, the ability to sever ties that may never be rebuilt, to no fault of their own. The cruel and unusual situation was one that they always risked with the nature of their work, one that was always a distant possibility.

In the quiet moments, he thinks of her. The what ifs and the whys. Everything between them that was said, and what never was. What he’s never told anyone is just how long he’s thought of her in one way or another, the one night they shared together, years ago, tucked neatly away in his mind to save for nights when he wondered just how things got to be this way.

“Come on, Dad,” Jack laughs. “At least try to make it through this movie. You said you wanted to see this one.”

With a hint of guilt as his obvious disinterest, Aaron sits up a bit straighter on the couch, grips the popcorn bowl in his hands, locking his eyes on the television. The plot of the movie is already lost on him, despite it being a topic of conversation for the last several days. “Just play the movie, Jack.” He stifles a yawn into his fist and valiantly attempts to focus his attention on the screen.

Aaron is dozing when he’s interrupted again; this time by his phone vibrating on the table. He doesn’t miss Jack’s eyes flickering over to the phone. “It’s just like old times,” he sighs. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

The name on the screen is the very last he expects to see at such an hour in the middle of the week. Aaron frowns, the phone cradled in his hands as the phone vibrates insistently. It’s the familiar push and pull of guilt he feels when his eyes shift between his son and the phone again, an unexpected window into a life he long left behind. The phone keeps ringing, immediately following the first unanswered call. Not a good sign, he thinks.

“Dad?”

“I need to take this, Jack,” Aaron says quickly. It’s late enough that this is anything but a casual phone call. The blanket is tossed aside and the popcorn already forgotten. He barely hears Jack’s half-hearted protest as the phone crackles static and then connects. The voice on the other end speaks first, his tone clouded with thinly veiled fear.

“Aaron.”

“Dave.” His tone is equally clipped, even and steady even as the phone is held tightly in his hand, waiting for whatever news is about to come.

“Aaron, you need to get to Prince William Medical Center as soon as you can.” It’s the urgency in Dave’s voice that unnerves him; it sets off every warning bell in his head. His normally unflappable, at times annoyingly rational friend sounds harried and exhausted, as if it’s already been the longest of nights, as if making this very phone call was a last resort. “It’s Emily.”

Emily .

The words reverberate through his head, the implications tear through his chest like a series of spears. He knew it wasn’t good, but he didn’t expect this. “What happened?” But years of experience and unbridled heartache have steeled his nerves, tested his resolve time and time again. He should be used to this by now - bad news that haunts those he loves. But the fear is like a vice, a cold stab that wraps itself around his mind and back again.

“There was an accident.” Dave begins. It’s been a few years since he’s seen him, but through the phone Aaron can see the lines on his forehead that have certainly deepened by now, perhaps a few have been added over time as the years add up.

“Accident? What kind of accident?”

He barely listens as Dave recounts the last few hours in excruciating detail. They were on a case - local - Reston - on their way back to Quantico. A poorly timed summer storm made visibility terrible, rendering driving nearly impossible. They were sideswept by another SUV, the impact sending them careening into the median on 66 just outside of Woodbridge. It sounds like anyone’s worst nightmare - airbags deployed, the windshield shattered upon impact, the entire hood a mangled mess of metal as the car careened to a stop, the threatening hiss of the engine.

But the totaled car was the very least of their problems.

“She’s in critical condition, Aaron,” Dave says carefully, as if it’s only part of the truth, as if somehow it’s even graver than this. “She’s unconscious.” It doesn’t sound good - her head hit the window on impact, the rest of Dave’s news confirms his worst fears - a likely head injury, the extent of which they don’t know.

It doesn’t make sense. It seems like some kind of sick, ill joke - a nightmare he’ll wake up from, only to find Jack having devoured both bowls of popcorn and the credits of the movie he never actually watched rolling. “What aren’t you telling me Dave?”

“I think you’d want to be here, Aaron. It … it could go either way at this point.” Dave’s voice is so heavy, something Aaron isn’t used to. His friend was typically the voice of reason, the one he went to for assurance when things seemed to be spiraling out of control - something he did many times over. And now the tables were turned to their side, a cruel twist of fate. It takes no convincing; he’s already reaching for his jacket on the hook by the door, grappling for an umbrella shoved unceremoniously in a closet somewhere closeby.

“I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

…

“Mendoza is on his way.,” JJ says quietly as she rounds the corner with two cups of coffee in her hands. “ He just called me.”

“That might complicate things.” Dave wrings his hands and paces the tiny hallway. “Who told him?” He asks curiously. It hadn’t been long since Emily had shown up in his office one night, shoulders heavy as she relayed the news of their breakup. Dave is no stranger to the failures of love - having been thrice divorced himself. Sometimes timing was to blame, other times it was priorities. In their case it was commitment, or lack thereof, things fizzling out and hasty goodbyes, half-hearted assurances of keeping in touch, that one will call the other. Yet Dave isn’t exactly surprised to hear the news. Despite their challenges, Mendoza had been all but enamored with Emily, in awe of her at times. He wasn’t a stupid man; he wasn’t surprised when she didn’t follow him to Colorado. There was always something else that stood in her way. He just never knew exactly what.

“Word travels fast.”

“Aaron is on his way.” After a long pause, Dave scrapes a hand across his face, exhaustion bleeding through the cracks of age. “I just called him.”

JJ only nods and stares into Emily’s room with a pensive expression. “What do we tell them?”

“We tell them what we know. Hope for the best. That's all we can do.”

...

The storm takes the humidity with it, a soft chilly breeze spreading through the darkness. Aaron hurries through the hospital doors, charging past the triage nurse towards the elevators. He’s only vaguely aware of the other man that wedges himself past the doors just in the nick of time. He looks just as distracted as Aaron feels, eyes distant -worlds away - and lost in his own thoughts as he offers a quick smile, fists shoved in jacket pockets.

“What floor?” Aaron offers with a tight smile.

“The ICU.”

He nods and pushes just one button, indicating that they’re in fact going to the same place.

“I’m sorry.” The other man nods his head in solidarity, noticing the single illuminated circle on the panel, shuffles his feet, checks his watch and hangs his head. The phone in his pocket buzzes; he checks it with a resigned sigh. Aaron feels a touch of sympathy for him, wonders just what brings him there.

Except he doesn’t have to wonder much longer, because not only is Dave waiting when the doors open, but he clearly knows whoever Aaron just shared the elevator with. And judging by the way Dave’s eyebrows lift just enough at the sight of them both, practically side by side, something tells him there’s more to the story than just a simple coincidence.

“I see you’ve met?” Dave cocks his head to the side, scrubs his chin with his hand thoughtfully. “I wish it wasn’t under these circumstances.”

“What the hell happened?” The man beside Aaron demands, a little more forcefully this time.

“So you haven’t met.”

“What the hell is going on, Dave?” Aaron snaps first, his patience starting to wane. The last three hours of travel have already started to catch up with him. It’s been years since he’s had to channel his feelings into something more stoic and taciturn. It doesn’t return as easily this time. He tells himself it’s because of age and time, yet the nagging voice in his head says it’s something else entirely.

“Andrew Mendoza, meet Aaron Hotchner. The former chief of the BAU. Hotch, this is Andrew Mendoza. Mendoza was the Special Agent in Charge of DC’s Field Office. He consulted with the BAU on a few local cases about a year ago.”

“Was?” Aaron questions, quickly putting together what Dave doesn’t tell him about Andrew Mendoza. There’s only one reason why he’d be there - a reason he didn’t anticipate. He has to swallow the bitter pang of regret that rises in his throat. It shouldn’t exist at all, but a familiar feeling that has lingered just within his reach whenever he thought of Emily. The chances they never took, the timing that seemed to elude them for one reason or another. Time. It had never been on their side.

“The Denver Field Office offered me a promotion last month. My daughter and I are moving out to Colorado in a few weeks.”

“Congratulations,” Aaron says stiffly as he offers his hand. It’s obvious why he’s here - the same reason Aaron is. “I’ve heard good things about Denver.” There’s something about the news that satisfies him.

“I’m sorry to meet you under these circumstances.” Mendoza glances at Aaron, then Dave, then back at Aaron again. “But what the hell happened tonight?”

“JJ didn’t tell you?”

“Just that there was an accident.”

Dave presses his mouth into a thin line, relaying the story with such tact that Aaron knows it’s an abridged version, a slightly less terrible rendition of what happened back on the highway. “We were right outside of Woodbridge. On our way back from a case in Reston. Visibility was awful. It happened so fast. Emily must have hit her head on impact. She lost consciousness shortly after the ambulance arrived. They’re considering surgery to relieve the pressure in her brain.”

Dave pauses, letting the news sink in, taking a deep breath of his own to compose his frayed nerves. “There’s a chance of brain damage but they won’t know more until after she regains consciousness.” His gaze shifts between them both, gauging their reactions.

“When will that be?”

“There’s no easy way to tell. Could be hours after the surgery. Or days. She’s not breathing on her own. It’s going to be a while before we know anything.” He repeats the doctors’ words as calmly as he can. Dave’s typically unflappable demeanor is strained; the weariness laces through his voice.

“How did this happen?” It’s Mendoza who speaks up this time, clearly distraught and searching for words of his own. He almost looks embarrassed by his uncharacteristic show of emotion.

“It was an accident,” Dave repeats as calmly as he can, as if he’s practiced this speech in his head before giving it. “No one is to blame.”

The air seems to thicken around them, the reality setting in that while it’s already been a long night, it’s only just beginning.

“We’re here because of Emily. It’s a waiting game now, as long as it might be. May as well make yourselves comfortable. There’s a waiting room just down the hallway and a cafeteria on the sixth floor, if you want some coffee. It might eat a hole in your stomach, but it’s something.”

The room around him starts to spin. Aaron can’t remember the last conversation they had - something hasty by phone, he suspects, in the days of time differences and small talk. Never awkward, but something always lingering beneath the surface. Their conversations were all about what wasn’t said - subtext, layers of awareness only they possessed.

“One other thing,” Dave adds, as if on afterthought, a fleeting thought he nearly forgot, nothing more than a passing thought. “Before she lost consciousness, she was rambling incessantly about apple pie.” Dave adds, as if on afterthought, eyes narrowing in confusion. “The best apple pie in DC. Any idea what that could be about?”

Aaron stiffens, his jaw flexing at Dave’s seemingly innocuous mention in the midst of everything else. It’s been years since he’s last seen her and another fifteen since that night, one he’s never actually spoken of out loud. It could have been a lifetime ago, a distant memory. It feels so foreign at this point he could have dreamed it. Surely he misheard - there’s no way she’d be thinking of that. He pinches the bridge of his nose, stifles a yawn into his fist. It’s about to be a very long night. “Where is she? Is she in surgery yet?”

“Not yet. She’s just down the hall.” In the distance a monitor beeps then an alarm starts to go off, punctuated by the efficient scramble of nurses. It reminds him just how much he hates hospitals, and Aaron breathes a heavy sigh of relief when they don’t go into Emily’s room.

“You can see her, you know.” Dave offers gently, sensing the growing tension. “One visitor at a time.”

It’s somehow decided, without officially being decided out loud, that Aaron will go in first. Mendoza quietly mentions something about needing to call his daughter. Not for the first time this evening, Aaron is actually grateful Jack can hold his own at home for a little while, that they’re long past those years of constant check-ins. A simple text will do in a few hours’ time. And he steels his nerves with a few deep breaths before slipping into the room, the silence punctuated by the staccato beeping of monitors and a ventilator.

She’s like a ghost, translucent almost - amidst the machines and wires. He remembers a time, years ago, when the roles were reversed. Aaron wonders if she felt the same clench of fear in her gut, the awful feeling of helplessness that came along with being at someone’s bedside in a hospital. He wonders if she felt the same desperation clinging to every nerve in her body that things would be okay.

“Hey,” he says, sinking into the hard plastic chair at the side of the bed. “It’s been awhile.” Deep down he knows she won’t - can’t - respond. But there was a moment of hope - a tiny one - flimsy and built on nothing - that maybe she would move or something to indicate she heard him. There isn’t one.

Aaron swallows the rising lump in this throat, thick and pressing right down into his lungs. “I really need you to wake up, Emily.”

...

“When’s the big move?” Dave presses Mendoza gently, asking all the questions Emily never gave answers to. He folds his arms across his chest, unable to tear his gaze from the scene before him. From his place behind the window, he watches Aaron lower himself onto a chair on shaky legs, taking a few steadying breaths as he settles beside her. He rests a weary head on his fist.

“Two weeks. Keely wanted to finish her soccer season.” Mendoza crosses his arms over his chest as his eyes follow Dave’s.

Dave nods without really comprehending the words. “You’ll have to let us know when you’re both settled out there.”

“Yeah.”

Dave breaks an awkward silence. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out between you two.”

“Sometimes it doesn’t.” By now, Mendoza’s full attention is on the scene before them both, face solemn and stiff. “What’s the story between them?” His eyes narrow ever so slightly, shades of suspicion cloud his features and his shoulders tense. Years of profiling make Dave keenly aware of these subtle changes in his behavior. He’s questioning it .

Dave shrugs. “Friends? Colleagues?” By now, Aaron is brushing Emily’s arm with his thumb, and if he isn’t mistaken, swears he sees his lips moving too. “Anything else and your guess is as good as mine.”

It seems to smooth things over for a few moments, even as something else is planted in his mind. Something he never considered at all.

…

“Have you been to Boathouse Row yet?”

It’s an attempt to make small talk as they sit down; it doesn’t get past Aaron, who stays silent, completely ignoring the question.

“So what is it you’re not telling me?” Dave passes a flimsy styrofoam cup over the small table.

“Now might not be the best time, Dave,” Aaron retorts, rolling a tiny cup of creamer in his fingers.

“We’ve got nothing but time, Aaron. Surgeon says things could take hours. She might even be conscious immediately after. And you’re not driving back to Philly anytime soon.”

He has a point . “She was talking about when we first met.” He sighs heavily as he spins the cup around in his hands. “It was a long time ago.”

“At the BAU?” Dave knits his eyebrows in confusion.

Aaron rubs his eyes tiredly. By now any movement feels like effort, the space behind his eyes starting to throb with an oncoming headache and exhaustion. “Before that.”

“You mean you knew - “ Dave stops, his coffee ignored and interest piqued. “You two knew each other before?”

“We met years ago. Would be at least twenty now.” He’s too tired to do the math of exactly how long it’s been. “We met when I was working for her mother one summer in DC.”

“I certainly had no idea.”

“No one did. It never really came up.”

“By choice or on purpose?” Dave quips, his eyes just a touch brighter than they were moments before. He chuckles when Aaron just stares right back, the hint of a smile hidden in his eyes. “So what’s the story?”

His expression is wistful, as if he were dusting off a long held memory. “It was kind of an accident.”

__

Twenty-Four Years Ago

DC

Not for the first time that evening, Aaron checks his watch discreetly and sighs into his fist. It’s only eight-thirty; who knows how long this thing will last. It wasn’t that he agreed to this. It’s practically a rite of passage when working for an Ambassador, or so he’s been told -working one of the many extravagant parties and benefit dinners that were practically part of her job description. The ballroom is full of DC’s political elite - congressmen and senators, the Secretary of State and the Attorney General. Rumor had it the Vice President would be making an appearance. For that reason alone, security was heightened, every egress monitored, yet he’s never felt more invisible in a room full of people.

Aaron spots her accidentally, but something tells him she’s not trying to blend in. The tall figure on the opposite side of the room is entirely too young to be one of them , yet she mingles easily with a champagne flute between her fingers. She’s wearing an elegant black dress with a high neck and open back. It shows off delicate shoulder blades that jut out like wings when she moves. He isn’t the only one staring.

She’s the Ambassador’s daughter - Emily . Aaron has only heard of her from the others, her name being uttered in exasperation when one of the agents finds her breaking protocol yet again - sneaking out and in at all hours of the night, slipping an endless parade of friends past the entrance logs without proper verification. He’s never spoken a word to her; he knows almost nothing about her except that she’s a student at Yale, supposedly speaks multiple languages, and has a knack for causing trouble.

They haven’t spoken a word to each other, but her eyes meet his across the square in the middle of the room that is supposedly a dance floor. His mouth goes dry and he immediately looks away when Emily excuses herself from whatever conversation she’s immersed in, only to look back seconds later to find her sauntering directly towards him , effortlessly maneuvering through the crowd.

Aaron nods a polite hello, attempting to keep his expression neutral when she’s finally closed the gap between them both.

“You know,” Emily says with amusement, eyes flicking over him. “You could at least try not to look so miserable.”

“Who said anything about being miserable?”

“It’s practically part of the job requirements if you work for my mother. Besides, you’ve been wearing the same expression since this thing started.” When she catches his look of sheer bewilderment and mild annoyance, she laughs softly. “Trust me. I’ve been to enough of these things to know what I’m looking for.”

“Are you spying on me?” He glances around, wondering just where the Ambassador even is amidst a sea of black suits. He should be keeping a close eye, after all. He strains his neck a little, scanning the crowd purposefully until he sees the woman that strongly resembles the miniature version of her in front of him.

“No. I’m just observant.” Without missing a beat, Emily waves to someone - a Congressman Aaron immediately recognizes from the news - something about a scandal involving a rather young intern under a desk - but he hadn’t been paying too much attention to remember all the details. “He’s such a scumbag,” she adds quietly without any elaboration.

He senses her reticence immediately; he wonders just how she knows all of this, if he should push, if at all “Isn’t that part of their job description to a degree?”

“Some of them,” Emily mutters. “But he’s one of the worst.”

“So I’ve heard,” Aaron murmurs, tearing his eyes away from the crowd to get a better look at her. Up close she’s even more stunning, with sharp cheekbones and a perfectly symmetrical face, her smile wide and eyes like dark orbs. “I’m sorry, have we met before?”

“I’ve seen you around. You’re the new guy.”

“New-ish. I started in March.” It comes out a bit more dejectedly than it should, but it’s hard to hide the disdain he feels for it all. Things have been far from easy over the last few months. It’s a mindless shuffle of one foot in front of the other, days that blend together similar to the ones before, with the slightest hope that a few more weeks of patience might wield a change.

“New to me.” She’s only been home for the summer a few weeks at most, so he can count on one hand the number of times he’s actually seen her. “So what’s your story?”

“My story?”

“You stick out like a sore thumb.” She cracks a grin at her own remark. “You’re too tense.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Agent …”

“Hotchner,” he fills in quickly.

“Agent Hotchner, you certainly wouldn’t be the first security detail to use this as a stepping stone to a different career. You’re all just biding time until something better comes along.” She’s so matter of fact, so assured, it’s as if she’s had this very conversation with every other agent in the room at one point or another. “It’s usually the quiet ones. They have less to prove.”

“Are we that transparent?”

“Some of you. And I can’t say I blame you. This place surely isn’t a means to an end.”

“What does your mother think of your beliefs?”

“My mother knows exactly what I think of her career and everything that goes along with it. It’s what’s gotten us to this point, actually.”

“And what point might that be?” He’s only heard of some of the epic arguments between the two of them, the harshness of their voices reverberating around the Ambassador’s office or some ornately decorated living room. The bitter clashes of two strong wills, hidden behind the fact that just maybe they were more similar than different.

“A story for a different time,” Emily says smoothly. “Can’t exactly talk about it here.”

“You’re full of stories, aren’t you?” Aaron deduces but she isn’t even paying attention anymore as she scans the crowd. He can see the wheels start to turn in her head, the flicker of an idea materializing somewhere. She turns back, this time a grin stuck to her lips. “What?” He asks reluctantly.

“Let’s get out of here.” Emily bats her thickly lashed, heavily lined eyes. “This thing is going nowhere fast. Besides, you look like you could use a break. “How long have you been on?”

“And go where?”

“Anywhere,” she says casually with a wink as she plucks a champagne flute from a nearby tray, downing it quickly. “I probably shouldn’t drive, but you can.” It’s accompanied with a flippant toss of hair over her shoulder, an expectant purse of her lips.

It’s certainly not the smartest idea or the most prudent, but something tells him Emily could care less about prudence and image. “I could be suspended for unauthorized use of a government-issued vehicle.” Not to mention, having his boss’s daughter in said government vehicle with him, or completely leaving his assignment altogether. He remembers skimming over the terms of employment months ago, specifically the section about fraternization with members of the Ambassador’s Family.

“Who said anything about one of theirs?” She looks almost bored now, tapping her fingers against the empty flute. “That’s no fun anyway. They have trackers on them. For security purposes.” She forms air quotes with her fingers. “We wouldn’t get far.”

He’s about to ask her how she even possesses that knowledge when he feels her hand on his waist, dipping into the creases of his jacket like a lover would. It doesn’t phase her, and while normally his reflexes would spring into quick action, he’s glued into place.

“You have a car don’t you?” Emily unabashedly pats his pocket, feeling for keys.

He opens his mouth to object, but she’s too fast. She grins with satisfied smirk, a triumphant click of her tongue as he stiffens awkwardly when they jingle against her hand. “You aren’t a great liar, Agent Hotchner.”

“Aaron,” he says somewhat stiffly, resignedly. He’s doing his damn best to keep his eyes centered on the ballroom but it’s getting harder and harder to concentrate on the task at hand. The scent of perfume - something undoubtedly expensive - lingers and it makes him dizzy even if he hasn’t had a sip to drink. “And I didn’t lie.”

“Aaron.” His name rolls off her tongue thoughtfully. “Aaron,” she repeats, as if it’s the first time she’s ever heard it. “I never understood why there were two A’s. What do you do with the second one?”

His head spins to keep up with her, how her mind somehow bounces from one thought to the next with seemingly little direction. “Never gave it much thought myself, actually.” From the corner of his eye he catches one of the other agents giving him a quizzical, perhaps slightly jealous, eye roll. It’s a bad idea to entertain, but one he can’t ignore. Emily is staring at him, eyes sparkling, with the slightest touch of longing. Longing for what he isn’t sure, but whatever it is, it wouldn’t be found in the middle of the opulent ballroom.“What do you have in mind?”

“I’ve been told of a place not too far from here,” she begins slowly, a smile on her face at his gradual acquiesce. “A diner that supposedly has the best apple pie in DC.”

“Apple pie?” Just how much has she had to drink?

“I’m starving ,” she offers with a hand pressed to her flat stomach. Aaron’s eyes follow, lingering up and down on her narrow frame.

“They’re about to serve dinner,” He says lamely, shaking his head to ensure he heard her correctly. Waiters have started to circle the room with large serving trays balanced precariously above their heads, passing around the plates that he guesses must cost a few hundred dollars a head, maybe more. The crowds have thinned as more guests take their seats.

Emily shrugs with disinterest. “Once you’ve been to one of these things you’ve been to them all. Besides, this is when things start to get really insufferable.”

“Is that so?”

“Someone will start talking,” Emily drawls sardonically, surveying the crowd starting to take their seats at previously assigned tables - tables he could probably rattle off by name if asked. “Make some big speech promoting their campaign trying to get reelected or whatever. Then they all will. They love hearing themselves talk.”

“Part of the job, I guess.” He stares, unsure of what to say next. Her attitude towards politics is the complete opposite of that of her mother. His interactions with his boss have been somewhat limited; he doubts if she even remembers his first name. Yet he’s seen the way Elizabeth Prentiss revels in a world seemingly dominated by men, a woman in a league of her own. He wonders just how much the Ambassador has sacrificed; wonders if her daughter might be amongst that list. It would certainly explain their tenuous relationship.

“So what do you say? Surely you don’t want to sit around listening to a bunch of old guys spout a bunch of half truths to line their pockets?” She seems unbothered yet again, almost amused by the sight in front of her - as if her premonition of how the night would go is coming true.

There’s nothing he wants less. “How do you suppose I get out of this? I’m still on the clock, you know.”

“I’ll leave that up to you.” Emily sets the champagne flute on a nearby serving tray and spins on her heel, sauntering back towards the center of the ballroom. “I’ll be outside of the South Gate when you figure it out.”

��

In the end, he makes up an excuse to leave. It’s not exactly convincing and the agent in charge doesn’t exactly believe him when he feigns an emergency - food poisoning. But Aaron has always had an exceptionally good poker face, grimacing just enough to make it look questionable, and the other agent curtly nods, grunting something about having enough security for the evening, and making up the hours later in the week. It falls on deaf ears - he’s already out the doors of the security office, a small grin playing at the corners of his lips as he strides across the asphalt driveways with his back toward the house.

Sure enough, Emily is waiting for him, finishing the rest of a cigarette when he pulls around to the South Gate. He keeps his taillights off; the less attention he draws to himself the better.

His car has seen better days, the leather seats worn smooth and the stereo outdated, the steering wheel permanently indented from the grip of his own two hands, scuff marks and faded carpets. But it’s well maintained, and Emily smiles appreciatively when he holds the passenger side door open, then explains how to adjust the seat, just in case . She doesn’t seem to notice at all, just unceremoniously tugs her long skirt out of the way of the door and kicks off her heels.

“Fucking things,” she grumbles. The heels are sharp as knives, ridiculously impractical yet Aaron can’t help but picture her wearing them in a dress much shorter than the one she currently has on. He shakes his head, reminding himself not to go there, because the reality is, she’s still his boss’s daughter, and if anyone were to see them, he’d most definitely be written up, maybe worse, for taking her off property without following protocol. But she’s close enough to touch, her arm a gentle weight against his own on the center console.

“So,” Aaron asks, his voice barely audible. He shifts the car into reverse, breath hitching when his knuckles brush against her hand. “Just where is this diner you speak so highly of?”

“Silver Spring.”

“I thought you said DC.”

“It’s close enough.” Emily tucks a long piece of hair behind her ear with a roll of her eyes. “Just trust me.”

It’s the way she says it that makes him wonder if she would do the same for him. Aaron grips the wheel in silence as the cool night air seeps through the open windows. He catches her shiver and is about to offer his jacket when she breaks the silence.

“Make a right up at the light, and then it’s a quick left.” Emily shifts in the passenger seat. Her fingers twitch as if she were still holding a cigarette between them; she tucks her hand against her cheek daintily. She’s very much aware the passenger side is nearly spotless - nothing to indicate someone sits there frequently. No wayward sunglasses or a forgotten piece of jewelry belonging to a significant other. She straightens the wrinkled fabric of her dress and lowers her eyes.She’d had him pegged wrong - certainly he’d had it all figured out, the well intended nature that comes along with a mostly idyllic existence. She imagined a naive wife or girlfriend completely enamored with him, both parties working to make ends meet for bigger and better things - not happiness, for one. That they had in spades. But maybe a white picket fence, a dog and a baby or two one day.

Instead, he seems lonely and guarded, a choice he was forced to make. Circumstances, maybe, she thinks as the traffic light ahead blinks from a glowing green to yellow, to red. It shines a little brighter than usual, a universal warning everyone should understand . It makes her shiver again.

“Here. Take my jacket” The red light gives him the chance to shrug out of the confines of his suit jacket, which he hands over. He palms the wheel a little tighter when she wraps herself into it, the fabric draping over her like a shield.

“This is the place?” Aaron studies the gaudy exterior of the diner, hard to miss and yet, the type of place you wouldn’t give a second thought. The fluorescent lighting nearly blinds him, and he’s somewhat surprised to see through the windows that multiple tables are full despite the late hour. He can hardly conceal his disbelief. “How’d you learn about this place?”

“Word gets around,” Emily says lightly as she slips her shoes back on, wincing slightly when she stands upright, nearly enveloped by his jacket. “I’ve learned not to judge a book by its cover. Maybe you should do the same.”

They find a booth in the back, tucked away from the clamor of the bustling kitchen and constant jingle of the doors. Again they’re left with nothing but silence, a few wayward glances, and two plastic coated menus between them. The haggard waitress only nods abruptly at their order - two black coffees, one with splenda and one without, one slice of apple pie, and two forks.

“You think she thinks we’re a couple?”

“I’m sure she has a lot more on her mind than us.” Aaron twists the paper straw wrapper between his fingers and studies her across the table. What he’s not expecting is to realize she’s doing the same thing - analyzing his body language with a degree of precision that matches his own, an expression that hides what she’s thinking. He wonders if she’s practiced it over time. She wears his jacket like a coat of armor yet she’s curious, the mundane quietness of the diner a stark contrast to their initial surroundings a short time ago.

“How does someone like you end up working for my mother?” Emily asks out of nowhere, direct and forward without an ounce of hesitation. It could be mistaken for an interrogation, he muses.

“Someone like me?”

“Decent. With manners. Not some macho guy with a little man complex or some baggage like that who gets off swinging his gun around.” She blows the straw wrapper across the table; it hits him square in the shoulder and stays here until he flicks it off. She doesn’t seem to notice as the waitress sets down their much anticipated order amidst a promise to come back with some cream for the coffee.

It’s his turn to laugh; he knows exactly what type she’s referring to. He could name more of them than he has fingers. “Trust me, it wasn’t supposed to turn out this way.”

Emily carves out a large bite of apple pie with her fork, eyes closing with delight as it disappears between her lips, along with a delicate moan. “This is so good.” She pushes the pie plate towards him. “So then what was it?”

“Bad timing, for starters.” Aaron stabs his fork into the jagged slice of pie, cuts off a bite for himself. His stomach growls; it’s been hours since the early dinner he’d scarfed down behind the wheel on his way back to work the shift he just abandoned. “You’re right,” he says around a mouthful of apple and pastry crust. “That’s really good.”

“Told you.” She proudly lifts her shoulders, momentarily triumphant before she digs in for another bite. But she also looks expectant, ready for an answer, even with another forkful of pie. He supposes he owes her one.

“I wanted to join the FBI,” Aaron begins slowly. It comes to him that she’s only the second person he’s ever told any of this to. He supposed talking about it would make it real, take it from a pipe dream to something that could irrevocably fail right in front of his own eyes.

“The big leagues, huh?” She waves her fork in a circle, and it takes a moment for him to realize she isn’t totally shocked. “I could see that, actually, now that you mention it. You have the poker face for it, at least.” Emily gives a little grin, one that meets her eyes. “But that didn’t happen?”

“Had the application filled out and everything. Was going to send it in.”

“So what happened?”

“My girlfriend … She didn’t like the idea. The recruitment process takes months and basic training even longer. Close to a year sometimes. Haley wanted me to do something a little more traditional. Wanted me home at 6 for dinner and around on the weekends.” He takes another bite of pie, partially to gather his thoughts, and to let Emily give her own.

“Girlfriend, huh?”

“Well.” The fork in his hand feels heavy all of a sudden; he sets it down with a clatter. “We’re taking a break right now.”

She takes in his words, chuckles a little bit. “I’m a little disappointed in myself. I definitely had you all wrong.”

“You keep saying that.” It’s more of a question than a statement, a curiosity he can’t contain.

“I took you as settled. Happy. With Haley. ” His girlfriend’s name rolls off her tongue; hearing it sounds strange, like she’s saying something she shouldn’t.

“I’m ... figuring things out. We’re figuring things out.”

“Do you love her? Does she love you?” Emily asks directly without hesitation. “If you do, there shouldn’t be much to figure out.”

He stiffens. “I don’t … not love her. But we want different things. At some point, you have to be honest with each other, right? When you can’t make it work, what do you do?”

“I’m definitely not the person to ask.” She laughs but there isn’t any humor in it, more of a resigned sadness if he looks close enough through the rough edges hidden by carefully curated appearance. “Relationships aren’t something I’ve had a ton of luck with.”

“Maybe you’re dating the wrong people.”

“Maybe.” She looks around the diner, rests her chin in her hands. “I’m pretty directionless myself at the moment, if it makes you feel better.”

“It doesn’t, but thank you.” He takes a sip of coffee, more for something to do with his hands than a need for it. He wants to know more, wants to ask just what could possibly make her directionless. Someone who seemingly had it all.

“Sounds like we’re both lost.” There’s a dreamlike tone to her voice, as if they’re sharing a secret.

“We don’t have to be.”

“If I keep going at this rate, I’ll be a bored socialite by 30 throwing cocktail parties every night and getting drunk by the pool by day.”

“Who says?”

“No one has to say it. It’s … expected of me, I think?”

“Is that so?”

“I’m certainly not following in my mother’s footsteps into politics.” She scoffs. There’s contempt in her voice, for what he deduces is years of being put second, something she never asked for but received over and over again. “What else is there for me to do? Someone has to carry on the family tradition somehow.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” Emily says, dragging her fork through some of the remaining bits of pie on the plate. She flicks a crumb into the air.  “I’ve never really had a home , you know. Most of my life has been spent overseas. Just staying in one place for a while would be nice.”

“I always wanted to get away.” Aaron laments. “From Manassas at least.”

“Well, that’s understandable. You aren’t missing much there, or so I’ve heard.” She stirs a spoon into her coffee to work in the mess of splenda packets she’s dumped in.

He watches the liquid swirl, her mezmirzation at it. Something comes to him - something he’s always wanted to know. “Is it true you speak four languages?”

Emily looks up from her coffee, temporarily distracted by his question. “Six, actually. French, Italian, Spanish, Arabic, Greek, and some Russian.” She ticks them off on her fingers nonchalantly as if she were counting inanimate objects.

He does a double take. “Six? I can barely handle English.”

“It’s always been easy for me. I just wish I knew what to do with it, you know?”

“When I applied, I remember seeing that the FBI needs linguists. People with language experience to work overseas.” He takes his own fork to the last remaining bits of the pie, watching her face carefully for a reaction. She’s almost unreadable; he can’t discern just what she’s thinking.

She laughs - not the reaction he expected. “You know, applying for the FBI would absolutely piss my mother off entirely. She would hate it if I did that. Kind of makes me want to do it.”

“She and Haley should meet. I’m sure they’d have lots to talk about.”

“You want to hear what I think?” Emily says after a few long moments, the coffee and the pie that once sat between them are now gone. “I think you should go for it. The FBI. Do it and don’t look back. And call your girlfriend. Let her talk, but tell her how you feel.”

“And?”

“If she comes back, then you know it’s meant to be.”

...

“Never even knew this place existed,” Aaron says, lingering at Emily’s elbow as they pick their way across the pebbled driveway of the diner. She’s a little unsteady on the heels now, not unsurprising given the late hour and the time they spent sitting down.

“Who knew a diner in the middle of Silver Spring Maryland would have such great pie?” Dangling from her wrist is a to-go bag with an extra slice of pie for the morning - the waitress had kindly given her one on the house - the leftovers from the day before.

“I thought New Jersey was the diner capital of the world,” Aaron muses. “New Jersey is all about their diners and traffic circles.”

“And Bruce Springsteen,” Emily adds pointedly. “He’s from New Jersey.”

“Him too.” Aaron laughs quietly. The tension in his shoulders mounts; he doesn’t want this to end. He wants to talk to her, wants to keep her there. But the moment feels final. Emily catches the wrist of the hand that reaches out to cup her cheek, wraps her fingers around it. “If things were different -” he starts quietly, looking almost embarrassed.

“I don’t think that’s how it’s supposed to go, is it?” Emily leans into the weight of his calloused palm, into the touch of a man that isn’t her own. It feels foreign, like she’s taking something that isn’t hers. “I don’t think that’s in our cards, Aaron. Maybe in a different life.”

The ride back to DC is again silent, save for the crinkling of the paper bag in her lap. Aaron skips the main entrance and the long paved driveway, taking a shortcut around the massive property to the South Gate entrance. Emily side eyes him, looking slightly impressed. “Trying to remain inconspicuous?”

“I think that’s for the best.”

“I’d like to think this is how we were supposed to meet,” she offers as he pulls up to the outside of the South Gate. “For a brief moment in time, that’s all. To steer one another in the right direction, if you will.”

“Maybe.” He tells himself to pull away, curling it back around the steering wheel protectively. “Remember what I told you, Emily.” He watches her reach for her shoes, their moments together dwindling down to seconds. “Don’t live your life on the terms of someone else. Especially your mother. If our paths cross again and you’re a bored socialite throwing cocktail parties, we’ll have to talk.”

She loops some hair behind her ear, gives him a small smile. “If our paths cross again in ten years and you aren’t leading some FBI unit somewhere, I’ll have some words for you as well.” She draws a breath, carefully slips on her shoes. “Thank you for the pie, Aaron.” The creak of the passenger side door is the only thing he hears as she slips away like a ship in the night, not to turn back around.

Aaron watches her disappear across the grass, blending into the deep blue of the early morning, the sky not quite awake but out of the depths of night. She’s a shadowy dark figure amidst the promise of a new day. The clock on the dashboard nears 6:00 AM. The little red numbers glow are a reminder of the inevitable crash that will most definitely come later on. He isn’t 20 anymore, after all. But when he drives away, there’s a sense of renewal, one he can’t explain, but deep down understands.

He hands in his resignation before he can work another shift, and he never does make up the time he promised. Three days after that, he mails a thick packet of papers in a standard manila envelope to the FBI Headquarters in Quantico.

A week after that, he takes out his phone and dials Haley’s number. About thirteen years later, his son comes into the world, wailing and screaming with healthy lungs and a head of dark hair. Haley is tired and beaming, his pride is obvious as the tiny bundle is placed in his arms.

They name the baby Jack.

In some ways, the stars aligned.

He’ll sometimes wonder if Emily’s did too.

…

Present Day

“Why didn’t things ever work out between the two of you?”

Dave’s voice brings him back to reality, out of the daydream he’s held so close to his heart for so many years. It’s jarring at first, a confusing limbo of then and now, past and present blending together for a few long moments. He glances around, the harsh overhead lights glaring bright, the low hum of hospital sounds reverberating through his ears. Along with it comes the reality of why he’s there, and the bitter rush of fear that floods his consciousness.

“Timing.” Aaron spins his now empty coffee cup in his hands. “Even after Haley and I got divorced, it was never the right time.”

“You’re going to blame timing ? That’s the oldest trick in the book.”

“I never wanted to take the risk.” It’s the closest thing he can think of as truth. They built a tentative friendship after a rocky start, something built on mutual respect. His divorce brought new challenges - co parenting amidst a ridiculously stressful career, supporting and leading his team. Emily had always been one to hold her own, a silent backbone of their team, a friend to all of them. He’d relied on her, never wanted to lose what they had in hopes of something else . Ian Doyle had taken her from them all; her return was tense and it didn’t take a profiler to understand that Quantico just wasn’t home to her anymore. He let her walk away, encompassed by a fragile shell of his own tentative happiness, and in the years after she went to London, there was a permanent hole in his heart that never quite mended itself again. “Maybe I should have.”

“Love is a choice, Aaron. It doesn’t just happen. You have to choose to make things work.” Dave leans back in his seat, checks his watch, an eyebrow arching just a bit. “I thought you would have known that by now.”

“You and Krystall made a choice?”

“We still do. Every day we have to choose to love each other. Some days it’s easy. Others, not so much. But you know the best part?”

“I think you’re going to tell me anyway, Dave.”

“It’s never not been worth it, Aaron.” There’s a subtle gleam in his eye that wasn’t there before. “Something tells me you might just feel the same, if you gave it a chance.” Dave fumbles for his phone, patting the pockets of his jeans and then that of his blazer before finally pulling the phone from his breast pocket. He flips it open, his eyes widening at whatever message lights up the tiny screen.

“What is it?” Aaron asks with baited breath.

Dave looks up from his phone. For the first time since all of this began, he looks full of hope. “Emily’s out of surgery.”

…

The surgeon is pleased with the outcome of Emily’s procedure, and the air around them seemingly lightens with each minute he explains the procedure, and its success. The three of them hang on every word he says, asking questions and seeking assurances.

“She should be awake within a few hours. We’ll know more then, but her brain activity is good, and her vitals are strong. Agent Prentiss got very lucky. I have patients who often have a very different outcome.”

The relief is palpable, as if the tension was cut with a knife as they all exchange optimistic smiles and tentative handshakes, while profusely thanking Emily’s surgeon. Aaron excuses himself to call Jack - something he should have done hours ago. “I’m not going far,” he reminds Dave, his words a warning of what to do if anything changes in the next few minutes.

“We’ll be right here.”

Mendoza is shrugging into his jacket and digging for his keys with a look of resignation on his face. He catches Dave’s sideways glance. “I think it’s time I head out, Dave. Please give Emily my best wishes on a quick recovery when she’s discharged.” There’s a change in his voice, one that wasn’t there earlier.

“You’re leaving?” Dave asks curiously. “You aren’t going to stay and see Emily? It shouldn’t be much longer before we can go in.”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Why?”

Mendoza shakes his head, runs a hand over his scalp. “I learned something tonight. You know when it’s just not meant to be, but you can’t find the reason why?”

Dave nods, a glimmer of understanding appearing in his eyes. “I do. I know it very well, actually.”

“I think I found the why.” His eyes roam around before they finally land on Aaron and Dave’s do too. The phone is still pressed to his ear but he’s still staring right into Emily’s room, never once looking away, even as his mouth moves in conversation to Jack on the other end. “I tried to deny it, so did Emily. But I don’t think her heart ever belonged to me. I think it belonged to him.”

—

Emily finally wakes up a few hours later. Aaron and Dave wait outside the room as she’s tended to by a horde of surgeons and nurses, testing brain function and vital signs, spattering off medical terms with ease. It’s a language only they understand, one Aaron never wants to learn. But their voices are hopeful, they have smiles on their faces as they talk to Emily, assessing her cognition and running tests. She’s a little confused and extremely tired, but awake and alert . Dave is just as relieved to see things appear normal; they’re both very aware of just how lucky they got.

Eventually, they’re finally allowed to see her.

“Do you mind if I … “ Aaron trails off, except he doesn’t need to finish the question.

“Go, Aaron. I take it you have some things you want to get off your chest,” Dave quips. “I’m going to call the others and give them an update. They’ve been waiting awhile.” He departs with a pat of encouragement on the back, a shared moment between them.

Moments later, he’s back in her room, at her side on the same uncomfortable chair from earlier. Her eyes flicker open once again, widening almost impossibly when she sees him. Years of unanswered questions are written on her face in seconds, a shared history fraught with more than what most people experience in a lifetime. But there’s something oddly content there too, as if she woke up from a dream that has somehow materialized in front of her.

“Hey,” Aaron says softly, reaching out with a nervous hand to touch her for the first time in years . He dodges wires and IV lines, finds her fingers with his own and gives a gentle squeeze. “You’re up.”

“You’re here?” Emily blinks with confusion, still making sense of just how she got there in the first place. “But I thought you were .. you and Jack are in Philadelphia. What are you doing here?”

“Of course I’m here,” he says soothingly, ignoring her question. They can talk about that later. “How are you feeling?”

Emily gives a wry grin, slightly distorted and weak, but there. “They asked me who the President of the United States was.”

It’s his turn to smirk. “What did you tell them?”

“To ask me after 45 leaves the Oval Office,” she says without hesitation. “I think I made at least two of them laugh.” But then something comes over her face, the reality of it all setting in. “You came all this way,” she croaks, throat raw from the intubation tube. “How did you know about all of this?”

“You were there for me, remember?” He’s not only talking about Foyet, but all the years she spent at his side. The years they spent doing a dance around one another,  their steps never quite aligning. This time feels like a second chance he never thought he’d get, one he can’t mess up.

“That was a lifetime ago, Aaron. So much has happened since then.” Emily tries to sit upright, pushes herself up about halfway before exhaustion overtakes her. She grumbles in frustration; he shouldn’t smile but he does. It means the Emily he knows, the Emily he fell in love with years ago is somewhere in there.

“Take it easy,” he soothes, adjusting the pillows so she’s more vertical than horizontal. He uses the opportunity to press a kiss against her forehead. He touches his own to hers and murmurs, “That’s something I should have done a long time ago.”

A smile spreads across her face, just as brilliant as the night he met her. She remembers it all, just as well as he does. “Funny how it always seems to take one of us dying to figure things out.”

“What are you talking about?” It’s a morbid thought, one he can’t entertain for long because despite his question, there’s an element of truth to it. He brushes some hair from her eyes and tucks it behind her ear. It’s matted in his fingers and dirty yet he doesn’t even notice. His heart swells, the hand in her hair trails down to her cheek, a thumb against the blush that spreads there. “And by the way, that’s not funny.”

“I’m saying maybe after I get out of this place,” she gestures to the mess of monitors and wires and tubes, “You can ask me out on a date. Finally.”

“Anywhere,” Aaron agrees. He would go anywhere, if it meant he could be with her.

“I know a place in Silver Spring. Supposedly they have the best apple pie in DC.”

[orbitariums]

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐠𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐩 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟏𝟔)

pt. 15

note: missed u baddies~~~!!! this chapter was so hard to write but i love how it turned out, hope y’all loved it tooooo ♡ 

playlist *new additions!*

word count: 7.6k

warnings: age gap, smut 

Absentmindedly, you picked up your phone on the end table beside you. It was positively buzzing with notifications, and you were a bit thrown off by the sheer amount of them. You furrowed your eyebrows as you skimmed through the notifications from the bottom to the top— you had a bunch of missed calls from your parents, more Snapchat notifications on your regular snap than ever, and a plethora of texts. 

You wondered if something had happened, chewing slightly on your bottom lip. Was everything okay at home? Did you post something meant for your cam site on your Instagram? A hundred various circumstances fled through your mind, but none of the situations you had made up could’ve prepared you for when you opened a text from Aaliyah with a picture attached. It read:

    - Attachment: 1 image

    - BITCH, THIS IS LITERALLY YOU!!!

     You sat up immediately, your stomach twisting nauseatingly as you looked at the image on your phone screen. You blinked a few times, rubbing furiously at your eyes like this was all a bad dream and you’d wake up in a few seconds. Because this couldn’t be happening. There was no way that you were looking at a picture of you and Steve that neither of you had taken, walking out of a restaurant you couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of right now. A sense of urgency flooding your veins, you nudged Steve harshly. He shifted in his sleep and put his arms around your waist, unaware of what was going on. 

     “Steve!” you hissed, your face burning. 

     He woke up relatively quickly, hearing the seriousness in your tone, sitting up against the pillow and facing you, his brows knitted together, muscles flexing as he supported himself on his arms. 

     “What’s wrong, babe?” he asked, leaning forward to see what you were showing him on your phone. 

You watched his expression change from one of confusion to one of concern as he began to grasp what had happened. But, instead of talking it out with you as you expected, he cursed under his breath and ripped the bed sheets off of him, getting up out of bed. You leaned forward, your naked bottom half getting exposed to the air while he pulled on some clothes and made his way out the door. 

     “Where’re you going?” you called out after him, and he didn’t even bother to take a look back at you as he marched out of the apartment, muttering,

     “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

You tried to catch up to him, but it was too late. He was gone, and now you were alone in this apartment which felt eerily empty without him now, your phone pinging with a new notification every few seconds. 

| | | 

     As expected, the headquarters were abuzz when Steve entered them. He had arrived in a haste, driving stoically on the busy New York streets, his mind racing just like the cars that zoomed past him. The first person to face him once he got inside was Bucky, who just gave Steve a sympathetic look and held the door open for him— Bucky already knew everything, he had figured it out a few weeks ago on his own. You and Steve had already dealt with that hiccup, and you had hoped (perhaps naively) that the situation with Bucky was just a fluke, and that nothing more like that would happen again. But you had been sorely mistaken. 

     Steve gave Bucky a nod, and they both made their way to the meeting room, where Steve already knew everyone would be waiting for him. Quite immaturely, he rolled his eyes at the fact that everyone was there. This matter was something personal, it had nothing to do with the rest of the Avengers, though technically it did, because Steve’s actions affected the rest of the team and  he knew that. But to his own credit, he had just woken up and he was already being bombarded with messages from PR and the rest of the team about this mishap. He had to compose himself before walking in, taking a deep breath and relaxing his clenched jaw. 

     “Are you insane?” was the first thing Steve heard when he walked in, no doubt coming from Tony.

Steve sighed, tucking his hands into his pockets, glaring at Tony,

     “Save the berating for later.”

     “Were you not thinking? Is this what you were doing during your time off?” Tony continued, his hands up in the air in a questioning motion.

     “Listen, Tony. I’m not here to hear what I did wrong. I’m here to solve this issue right now, whatever that means.”

     “You’re gonna wanna see this,” Sam said reluctantly, sliding a magazine across the table for Steve to see. 

     It was one of those ridiculous celebrity gossip magazines, and multiple pictures of Steve and you were highlighted on the front page. Steve prepared for the worst as he read the headlines: “Captain America with Mystery Girl?” and “Who is Captain America’s New Boo?” He opened the magazine to more unsavory headlines, and to his extreme dismay, pictures of you from your personal Instagram highlighted. 

     He raised his eyebrows as he read: “More on Captain America’s New Girl.” They had found your name, your age, and worst of all, your profession. Steve was seeing red as he forced himself to keep reading the salacious article which made you out to be a deviant with ulterior motives, abusing inaccurate phrases like, “an unemployed college girl turned porn star” and, “the face of Captain America’s midlife crisis!” 

Steve’s face burned white hot as he scanned the article, barely even registering the content and instead finding himself growing more and more angered by the inflammatory statements that were being made. 

     “That’s enough,” Nat finally spoke up, watching the expressions on Steve’s face grow more and more catastrophic.

She snatched the magazine away from Steve and shoved it across the table, folding her arms and glaring down the table at Tony. 

     “You okay?” Bucky asked, reaching a hand out to Steve’s shoulder. He could feel Tony’s angry glare focused on him, while everyone else gazed at him pitifully. 

Steve sighed, jerking his shoulder away from Bucky’s touch. He couldn’t even pinpoint his emotions, all he was feeling right now was rage. He was angry at himself, feeling like he somehow let this happen, even though deep down he could hear your voice telling him that he was doing everything right and that it wasn’t his fault. He was angry that now, your privacy and safety were on the line, and people who didn’t know a thing about you were making absurd assumptions about you. 

     He felt like yelling, punching something, doing anything to let out this anger so he could at least have some sort of vessel for this fury he was feeling. But he stood painstakingly still, trying to hear your voice over all the noise, your voice telling him everything was okay even though right now all signs were saying that everything was not okay. 

     “You have to deny everything,” Tony sighed after moments of awkward silence. “She’s your assistant and you were undercover acting as boyfriend and girlfriend, something convincing but not as exposing as that. And you’re getting your legal team to sue all these publications for false claims and defamation.”

Steve furrowed his brows, staring at Tony,

     “They aren’t false claims.”

Tony shrugged flippantly,

      “If you want everyone to think Captain America is sleeping with a porn star, then so be it. But it’s going to cost you if you think for a second I’m gonna let that slide on our team-”

Steve cut him off, losing the calming hum of your voice in his mind in a new wave of anger, 

     “She’s not a porn star, she’s a college graduate and the owner of an online brand and a sex worker, and that’s more than a lot of people her age can say, so don’t get brave because of these god damn articles, Stark.”

     “Listen, Cap,” Tony spat sarcastically. “I don’t give a shit who she is. The point is that in this case, your opinion on her doesn’t matter because everyone else is going to say whatever the fuck they want to say. And that’s bad for you, it’s bad for us, and it’s bad for her, if you care as much as you claim to.”

     “Don’t act like I didn’t think about this,” Steve lurched forward, slamming his hands on the table. “She’s more than just some girl to me. Don’t act like every waking second I didn’t worry that something like this would happen. Like, like I didn’t take every precaution I could, look over my shoulder every five seconds. I’m not as stupid as you want me to be, Stark.”

Of course Steve cared about his team and how this would affect the Avengers, but the last straw was the media coming for you, putting your privacy and your safety at stake. Your job and the details of your job were extremely sensitive, and you were just beginning to make a name for yourself in the real world. Steve honestly felt like this was worse for you than it was for him. He knew he had to take care of this first, for logistical reasons, but when he was done, he’d get right to you as soon as possible.

     Tony sighed, softening just a bit.

     “Listen. You know what you have to do. After the Accords, this… this isn’t the kind of attention that we need. Regardless of that, we can’t have this. You’re making a statement today, and you know what you have to say. PR’s already contacting the publishers of these bullshit articles. As for your little girlfriend, if we’re not careful, she could be in huge danger. You know the kind of people we deal with, and how fast they would swing at a chance to grab her when they think she’s unprotected. That’s exactly why you need to deny everything, and we’ll do all the damage control possible. Not that there’s even much we can fix at this point.”

      Steve glared all around the table, only to see faces of the rest of the members of the team looking up at him expectantly. He needed to explain himself. How’d he even get into this mess, what was he thinking, the usual. And Steve knew that that was his responsibility— as Captain America. As the leader. As a part of the team. Right now, he was just himself. Steve Rogers. And all that Steve Rogers was worried about was you. Regardless of what you said, the fact that you could be in danger scared the shit out of him, and also put him into this almost primitive, dominant mode. He needed to protect you. He didn’t care about reactions and rumors, he needed to make sure you were safe.

     “Talk later,” was all Steve said, turning out of the room and ignoring Tony calling his name. When he got into the car he slammed the door shut and began the drive home. 

      His mind was swarming with thoughts, about what this meant for his team, for his job, all the things he’d left unaddressed in the meeting room. He knew this wasn’t his fault, he knew that���s what you would say, but Steve wasn’t going to let himself off this easily. He was livid about the fact that the magazines and web articles had found you out so quickly and had posted pictures of you, giving away personal information about you and jeopardizing you as if you deserved it at all. So he drove home in a silent, fuming rage.

      By the time Steve came home, you, too were beside yourself with anger. You’d seen the posts your friends and family were sending you, and your social media was getting flooded with spam and comments from people who didn’t know the first thing about you. Some were downright cruel, others were oddly interested in this situation that was meant to be private all along. You hadn’t even called your parents yet or explained yourself to anyone, all you did was text them and tell them you’d get back to them later when you figured this all out. The only person you wanted to talk to at this point was Steve, and he wasn’t even there, nor was he answering his phone and you knew he had it on him. 

     The fact that he had seen the news and just left immediately, not giving you any sort of comfort or advice, not even beginning to work through this together, had you fuming. You knew that just like you, Steve had people to explain himself to and others to reach out to. But as far as you were concerned, you should’ve been the first person he talked to about this— he should’ve worked with you to at least talk about how to fix this before he just marched out the way he did. 

      You thought you had both worked past his eternal faithfulness to his job and the pressure to be dominant that he felt all the time, felt you had reached the core of the superhuman. But him leaving as promptly as he did only proved you wrong. You didn’t want to go through this alone, you wanted to go through this with him, as it was about the both of you in the first place.

     He came in and you looked up from your phone, where you were scrolling worriedly through the trending Twitter hashtag about you and Steve. Everyone was giving their unwarranted opinions, and you honestly worried how this would impact you— tons of information about you had been revealed without your consent, and it did not at all make you look good to the typical eye. 

     “Where did you go?” you asked him quietly, glaring up at him. 

He seemed to sense your anger and sighed, shrugging his shoulders in a resigned manner,

     “Headquarters. Had to sort some things out.”

     “Do you know how long I’ve been sitting here scrolling through pictures of me that are from my fucking cam site? Strangers exchanging information about me on the internet, seeing all this shit about us? And you just— just left? You didn’t even try to talk to me, Steve, honestly, what the fuck?” you snapped, your upper lip curling up angrily.

     Steve glided over to you, sitting beside you on the side of the bed and trying to get close to you. He truly felt sorrowful for leaving you alone, he wished you had known how much he wanted to talk to you while he was being berated by Tony. He only wished you had known how little he cared about the logistics because you were on his mind the whole time. 

     But he knew you were right, he had left without even trying to sort things out with you, left you to handle things on your own without even giving you an inch of support or telling you where he was going and what he planned for when he got back. 

     “You’re right, I’m sorry,” Steve apologized, his tone genuine, trying to catch your eye. He finally did, and even though you still glared angrily at him, he grinned at the fact that you were at least looking at him. “I should’ve been here for you, and dealt with all the other logistics later. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, honestly, angel. I didn’t… I didn’t know-”

He didn’t know that your image was being plastered around everywhere, that you were being unpacked by attention-seeking publications. Your safety and your privacy came before the reputation of his team, before all the logistics. That was all he had wanted to protect this entire time. You. Looking into Steve’s eyes, you could see that they were almost glassy, and you shifted from anger to concern quickly. 

     “Baby,” you cradled your arms around his head, frowning. “No, no, I’m… I’m being stupid, of course you have to handle shit with your job first, I should know that. I just wish we could’ve processed this emotionally first. Instead of separating from each other first thing.”

     “No,” Steve said firmly, pulling away from your touch and placing strong, grounding hands on your shoulders. “No, you are completely valid, and you’re right to be angry with me, doll. I should’ve taken a moment. That’s- that’s what we’ve been working on this entire time and you’ve been trying to teach me to step outside of my anxieties and all my duties. And I should’ve been here for you. I didn’t even take the time to comfort you. I’m sorry.”

      “Thank you,” you smiled softly, and he pulled you in for a hug, nuzzling his face in your neck. 

     This was the warmest you’d ever felt with him, just sitting there with him calmly in the midst of all the chaos, finding peace and stillness in each other’s arms. Anywhere else but in each other’s arms felt dangerous and uncertain, and now that you were here together, you were starting to look up. Everything was still shitty, but maybe together, things would feel less shitty. 

     “Listen, you’ll be okay. I’m sorry for all of this, I know what you’re going to say, but I know that I’m partially responsible. I just wanted to keep you safe, and, fuck.”

You chuckled quietly to yourself, your faces only inches apart when you brought your hands up to cup and graze Steve’s cheeks lovingly,

      “You still blame yourself for everything. You can’t control what these fucking publications do. You know that. And selfishly, the risk of getting caught is worth taking, if it means I get to be with you.”

Steve melted into your touch, but still there was that stiff part of him that wanted to blame himself for this mess,

     “We’re gonna have to agree to disagree on this one, doll,” he laughed wistfully. “But, you didn’t teach me for naught. Instead of pitying ourselves, we’re gonna work on this, right?”

You nodded with a smile, 

     “Yes, yes, exactly.”

Steve sighed before continuing, frowning as he remembered the hostile air in the office.

     “They told me to deny everything and get my legal team involved, but I…” Steve paused, feeling his anger and defiance resurge. 

     If they were going to expose you two, then so be it, it was true. If he didn’t tell the truth, if he denied all the “allegations,” he was just letting them win. He was letting them silence him, letting him think he was doing something wrong because he had found you, his happiness. And sure, your relationship was easy to publicize and critique because it was controversial for many obvious reasons— the age difference, the sensitive nature of your jobs. 

     But Steve didn’t care what they had to say. All he cared was that this didn’t push you apart. And if it meant telling the truth, he’d do that. The bombardment of rumors and questions would pass eventually. Nothing could soil the Avengers for long. If he handled this the way the public expected him to handle it— with some spineless apology or some weak minded statement, it wouldn’t be fair to you. Not when you and Steve were together. 

He continued,

     “I’m not going to. I’m not denying a thing. I’ll release a statement on my own… I’ll… I’ll tell the truth. I’ll get them to leave you alone and take down whatever they’ve posted about you. I don’t care what they have to say about us. Just… they can’t mess with you.”

     Steve’s fists balled up inadvertently in frustration and anger, but he was also feeling a surge of pride, courage. He didn’t have to deal with this the way everyone wanted him to. This was a personal matter, and even though it affected his job and his team, Steve had been through too much in the past few weeks to let the public play him the way they wanted to. There would be drama, and talk, but it would all subside as it always did. He’d always be Captain, and as long as he had a good heart and good intentions, and did his job right, he didn’t give a shit about what strangers had to say about who he was in love with. 

You blinked, shocked and puzzled by Steve’s words. This was like a full 180, you weren’t used to Steve rebelling like this. You figured maybe he was just worked up, and you didn’t want to be the reason he got in trouble. You knew he had his responsibilities, regardless of how you felt. You didn’t expect him to put you above everything, you knew he had to deal with matters like this in a specific way. You tried to calm him down,

     “Steve, you’re sweet. But you should go through with what your team wants. I mean, it’s what’s best, isn’t it?”

Steve cocked his head at you,

     “And keep doing this in secret? I mean, we can’t keep this up for long, doll, you know that. If I deny it now and the truth somehow comes out, that’d be even worse. I know my team is saying the opposite, but I think this is what’s best. The rumors, the gossip… it’ll come to a stop. What we have is stronger than that.”

You grinned, your eyes glossy,

     “I know, but I don’t wanna be the reason you get in trouble.”

Steve inched closer to you and cupped your face firmly with his hands, looking into your eyes,

     “You’re not. And you won’t be. Don’t blame yourself for a second. I’m taking care of this, alright? You’ve done so much for me and you don’t even know it. It would be a disservice to the both of us if I didn’t stand up for us. Don’t worry about me, don’t worry about my job. I was wrong to ever make you feel like that was your responsibility more than it was my own. We’ll be alright.”

     Steve was true to his word. As the day progressed and word spread even more, soon enough there was a statement to match the rumors. It wasn’t what the publicists or his fellow Avengers wanted to hear, but it was what he thought was right. And there was no reversing it. Later that day you sat on your laptop, scrolling through the recently updated articles on your situation. 

     Superhero Captain America, known to those in his personal life as Steve Rogers, admits that he has been in a private relationship for the past few months. Rogers and his team ask that their privacy be maintained and respected despite the shocking, unexpected news. At the time, Rogers and his fellow Avengers will not be taking any further inquiries about the matter, and they are taking this violation of privacy and security very seriously. 

     You breathed out a sigh of relief as you read the statement, mulling it over a few times in your head. All Steve wanted was to keep you safe and get as much information that had been revealed about you taken down. You weren’t quite sure what you were going to do from here on out— your sensitive profession had been exposed and this was something that would quite likely impact you for the rest of your life. 

     How could you be expected to be taken seriously to get a career when you had been trashed and defamed on the internet for your job? It seemed that still, no one quite understood sex work and that it was just as legitimate a profession as anything else, and you knew from the start that sex workers were looked down upon. You had done everything right— you used an alias, you didn’t give away personal information. And now, your face was plastered on gossip websites, with links to the very cam site you used. 

     Needless to say, you were stressed. But, you weren’t panicking. You were processing everything and it was all so overwhelming. In the grand scheme of things, you weren’t being nitpicky about the specifics. You had faith that you would figure this all out, that everything would be back to normal soon. Whatever that meant for your future, you weren’t sure. But you refused to lose hope. Not yet. You’d pick yourself back up from the ground and dust yourself off, just like you’d done so many times before. The difference was that Steve would be there for you every step of the way.

     Steve was out again handling important business. He’d talked to you before leaving and you understood that he’d have to be gone for a few hours trying to juggle this insane situation. In the meantime, you decided that since you had time, you’d call back everyone who had been bombarding you with messages and calls. Firstly, you’d call your parents. You dialed your dad’s number and he picked up almost immediately. 

You could hear him calling your mother’s name so she could talk to you too, and you heard her scramble up to the phone to talk. 

      “YN, what the hell is going on?” your mother asked, but she sounded more concerned than upset. 

     “We’ve been calling all day, we’ve been worried sick. Everyone’s been asking about you and we had no clue what was going on,” your father continued. 

You were surprised at their tone. Perhaps ever since your awkward dinner with them where you’d revealed what was likely your biggest secret, there had been a shift. You were surprised when they were so quick to accept you despite being so distant from you your whole life, being the root of your emotional issues. You sighed, rubbing your forehead,

     “Look, I know it’s a lot.”

     “Are you okay, sweetie? Be honest,” your mother pleaded, and you made a face,

     “I’m fine, it’s been a stressful day, but-”

      “No, I mean in general. We… we know we haven’t been talking much, but this… this whole thing, it’s-- we’re worried about you. You just go off to New York without saying a thing to anyone? You’re in some secret relationship with a man twice your age?” 

You understood their concern, but at the same time, you knew you weren’t being irrational by doing these things. Instead, you were doing what made you happy. This wasn’t a spontaneous, crazy decision. You and Steve were both extremely logical people, and you weren’t unstable just because you did this without anyone knowing. You had your reasons. 

     “Look, I… this is something I did on my own. I’m an adult and I’m doing what's best for me. And, obviously, there was a reason I didn’t tell anyone. I mean, he’s- he’s not just some random guy. And what we have is… you might not understand it, but that doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with me.”

     “I just wish you felt like you could talk to us.”

     “Yeah. Me too. Listen, I just wanted to call you to let you know that I’m fine. I don’t really know what’s next, but I’ll try to keep you updated, alright? Don’t worry about me, everything will be okay.”

      “What about all those posts about you? The things people are saying, it’s- and your safety! This is serious.”

     “Dad, I know. We are working it out, believe me. I’m just as worried as you are. I’m probably more worried. But you know what, I knew the risk in coming here, and I knew what I was doing. And I’m still glad I did it. Steve means so much to me, and I’m not gonna let this change that. But all that matters is that I’m okay. I just wanted to call you and tell you that.”

      “Well, we’re glad to hear that you’re okay. There’s just so much about you that we’re just now finding out, we have every reason to be worried.”

     “Yes, you do, and you’re right. If things were different… well. Anyways. I love you both, I’ll call you later,” you said, hanging up without waiting for them to reply.

At least that was off your plate. 

| | |

     The next morning, you woke up with Steve by your side, holding you in his arms. Needless to say, yesterday had been incredibly eventful, and by the time Steve got back home, there was nothing left to do except sleep the day off. It seemed as if your troubles were far in the past, considering how quickly everything had been handled. You had to hand it to Steve, he was the one who had to talk to so many people yesterday- legal teams, PR, his team members, just to clear the air. And of course, people were still talking about everything. But the initial shock and widespread reaction from yesterday was already beginning to calm down. It was still a bit dark in the bedroom, and Steve was still asleep, his arms wrapped around you.

     You stretched to reach your phone on the side table and started scrolling. There were still articles up and pictures of you up, but Steve was working to wipe those out to protect your privacy. You chewed on your bottom lip worriedly. Even after this was all over, you’d have to figure out what the hell you were going to do. Would you have to stop camming? Would you have to throw away all hopes of any other career as well? This was all on your mind.

     Suddenly, Steve’s hand was wrapped around your phone, pulling it out of your grasp. He sighed sleepily, his voice still groggy and deep, 

     “What’d I tell you about that?”

     “I know…” you pouted, turning to face him. His eyes were closed, but you knew he was listening. “Shouldn’t keep looking for updates.”

     “Mm,” Steve hummed. “You’ll be alright, YN. I’ll make sure of that.”

     “Promise?” you asked.

     “I promise.”

That was all the reassurance you needed for now.

     Eventually, you both woke up and got ready for the day. You weren’t doing much of anything, since you’d have to stay low for a few days. But it meant you got to be in each other’s company all day, so you weren’t exactly complaining. You were laying in between Steve’s legs on the couch, your head resting on his chest. 

     Today was supposed to be your last day, but due to recent events, there had been a change in plans. You would probably stay here until this all settled, then go back to Cali and deal with business back home. Luckily for you, your friends were supportive all the way. They were astonished and shocked of course, but incredibly happy for you. They’d be there for you just as much as Steve would. 

     “You okay, doll?” Steve asked, and you glanced up at him.

     “Good as I can be. Are you okay?” you asked.

     “Better than yesterday,” Steve chuckled, his blue eyes glimmering. “My team is still working on taking down any private information about you, by the end of this week, we should be all good-”

     “Steve,” you flopped over, straddling his legs now. Instinctively, he reached up to caress your arm and your thigh. 

     “Hmm?” he hummed, looking up at you. 

     “What happens after this? I mean, as far as I’m concerned, any hopes of getting a serious job are kind of fucked now.”

     “That’s not true,” Steve furrowed his brows, frowning. He didn’t want you to feel like this incident would mess up your whole future.

     “Steve, I majored in environmental policy. That’s like, government job type shit. I have to be someone who’s reputable. And I don’t know many people who are looking to hire a porn star sugar baby. I mean, that’s what everyone’s been calling me.”

     “But you’re not that. And once we clear up all this, I promise you, no one will think that about you. you’ Besides, Stark Industries is always looking for people like that, you could work for-”

You put your finger to his lips, shaking your head with a small smile,

     “Ah ah ah. You know I like to do things myself.”

You didn’t want to just beat around the bush and take the easy way out of all this. You liked knowing that you were accomplishing what you were accomplishing all on your own. If you worked for Steve or his team, it would just feel like giving up.

     “I know, and I love that about you. But why make things so hard on yourself?”

You shrugged,

     “I don’t see it like that. I see it like… like making my own way. You know? I’d probably be set for life if I worked for Tony Stark. But… I don’t know, it’s just a thing I have. I like to get it myself.”

Steve sighed slowly, shaking his head with a sly smile. His girl, such a go-getter. That aspect of you was honestly a turn-on for him. You didn’t want anyone to be able to say they did something major for you, and even though there were flaws within that ideology, he had to give you credit where credit was due. You were a hard worker. You liked to do things on your own and know that you were where you were because of your own discipline and hard work. Not because your boyfriend had recommended you.

     “You are something else,” Steve shook his head.

     “Mm hmm,” you grinned knowingly, stretching your hands along his chest. 

     “Listen, I can’t predict the future. But I will be there for you. And I know how much you like to hustle and do things on your own, but it’s good to accept help sometimes, doll. And I want to help you through this. Don’t think the worst of everything. You’ve always managed, even in the worst of times. This is no different. No job you apply for is going to try to judge you, I can guarantee you that. I’ll make sure of that, no matter how much you try to stop me.”

You scoffed, smirking,

      “You’re such a guy.”

      “I do it for you.”

Accepting help. Maybe Steve was right. Just because you accepted someone’s help didn’t mean you hadn’t done something on your own. And when it came to something like this, you needed all the help you could get, even if you didn’t want to admit that. It didn’t make you any less of an independent woman. 

| | |

      You woke up to thousands more follower requests the next day as you ate breakfast sitting at the kitchen counter. Steve was at the stove, finishing up his own plate, and you were chewing your eggs pensively as you scrolled through your Instagram. Ever since the day everything went down, you’d been getting a lot of attention. Most of it was honestly unwanted. Magazines you actually read were DMing you, asking to interview you, wanting the inside scoop on “the life of Captain America’s girlfriend.” You didn’t pay them any mind, because that was attention you didn’t want. You cringed to think of yourself being interviewed by a reporter about personal matters for fifteen minutes of fame. 

     But the attention wasn’t all bad, and now that you thought about it, maybe your future wouldn’t be so scary. Whether you liked it or not, you were almost like a celebrity now, and celebrities always had their scandals and their speculations, and they still got booked. Maybe this was meant to be, to steer your life in a different direction. 

     It didn’t seem ideal, and you didn’t even want fame. You certainly didn’t want to be known as “Steve Rogers’ girlfriend.” If you knew one thing, it was that you were going to make a name out of yourself before people tried to make one for you. Now that you were thinking about it, you could honestly seize this opportunity. 

     Even the sales for your clothing brand had hiked up since that day. People actually took an interest in what you had to offer, and you’d rather they take an interest in that than your personal life. You had no real interest in becoming some mystical figure or some it girl who was on Steve’s arm. You were just a regular, hardworking girl from California, and you wouldn’t lose sight of that. But if this was going to happen, you were going to take advantage of it. 

     “Steve,” you said his name, and he turned to face you, putting his plate together.

     “Yeah?”

     “Look at my Instagram,” you pointed your phone screen towards him and he squinted. “All these follower requests. And I keep getting orders, this is insane.”

Steve grinned, beaming. He was glad that something good was coming out of all this for you. He knew you didn’t want or like attention, but this went to show that all eyes on you wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. He knew you knew how to flip it and turn it into something beneficial for you. You weren’t the kind of girl to bask in attention just because. You would make something out of this. 

     “I’m proud, YN, honestly. You know that’s all you, right?”

You chuckled, shaking your head,

      “Kinda crazy to wrap my head around. I don’t wanna be this sensationalized person or this public figure, but, fuck. This isn’t at all how I imagined my life going. I could make something out of this. It’s such a turn around, but maybe it was supposed to happen.”

     “I’m sorry about all this unwanted attention. But if I know you, you’ll make it work.”

It was interesting, this unwanted celebrity. You had to accept that people would start to know you. You could capitalize off this and highlight your brand, make people pay attention to that instead of your private life. You could even put your studies to work and create an environmental company. You wouldn’t just work for Stark Industries, you’d create an industry of your own. Of course, this was all in theory, and you had to gather yourself before you did those things. But the fact that this was possible just because of some unwanted attention reminded you that you could always flip a bad situation into something ten times better.

| | |

     “Fuck, Steve, I can’t,” you were panting heavily, sweat dripping down your forehead as you grasped onto his biceps. 

      Safe to say, since you were laying low and there wasn’t much to do, this was a very reliable option, every time. Now that the stress of the past few days was winding down, you were finally able to focus on what you had both been neglecting, which was each other’s bodies. Every time Steve was inside you, it was as good as the first time, if not better. You’d been going at it for hours now, partially because Steve didn’t have anything else to do and his endurance was ridiculous. You almost wanted to slap his pretty face for being able to go so long like this, drawing out your pain and your pleasure so effortlessly, only to kiss his cheek afterwards. 

     “Yes you can, doll, I know you can,” Steve said, not nearly as breathless as you were— it was safe to say sex with Steve was a workout. “Come for me just one more time.”

     “Mm,” you whined, lifting yourself up with the help of Steve’s hands clasped beneath your shaking thighs, feeling him shift inside you. You cursed, biting down on your lip and glancing down at where you two met with your brows wrung together. 

You were a mess. Both you and Steve had already came multiple times, but Steve wasn’t in a rush. He was honestly handcrafted by the devil. And since you were together, Steve had grown so much more confident. You switched in bed, sometimes you took the lead and sometimes Steve did, and sometimes it wasn’t about who was in the lead. But right now, Steve had you about to beg for mercy. 

     “Fuck, that looks so good, just watching me stretch you out like that,” Steve groaned, his eyes lowering to watch you slowly drop up and down on his cock, which was coated in your slick arousal. “You like this? Riding me for hours, coming over and over again on my cock?”

You shuddered with an almost humiliating moan, nodding your head because you weren’t able to speak. But Steve wasn’t letting you off that easy. He gripped your jaw with his hand, prying your mouth open.

      “Use your words,” he said, nodding slowly and mouthing ‘yes.’

      “Yes,” you stuttered out, feeling as Steve pulsed inside of you. You sounded ridiculous, pathetic, and you knew you looked absolutely filthy in the best way possible. You began to ramble. “Yes, yes, I love when you take me like this and— fuck— force me to come for you.”

     “Mmm,” Steve hummed like he was taking your words into consideration, mulling it over in his mind. “Yeah. You love this. You look so pretty like this.”

Pretty wasn’t the word you’d use to describe it. It was messy. You were practically drooling, and your body felt as exposed as it had ever been. Steve’s own cum from the previous times he came was pouring out of you each time you slid down onto him, and you were incredibly wet still. The sound your bodies made meeting was almost criminal. You were hot and sticky and sweaty and still somehow ridiculously gorgeous to Steve, and you looked even better when he was torturing you with pleasure. 

     You gasped raggedly when Steve had the audacity to bring his fingers down to your clit, those thick, unforgettable fingers that he used to stretch you out every time before you took his cock, rubbing harsh circles against your sensitive clit. Your whole body seemed to shudder, and Steve chuckled lowly, not even trying to hide the smirk that appeared on his face. Oh, you would so be getting him back for this. 

     “That feel good, doll?”

     “Fuck,” you whined, your hand flinging to his wrist to keep his fingers there doing the same motion. 

      Your body seemed to tighten and coil up, your eyes squeezing shut before you let go, and before you knew it, you were cumming on his cock. Or more like squirting, the way it seemed never ending and made your whole body convulse. Steve groaned as you soaked his torso and his legs, stilling yourself on his length and riding your orgasm out. He must have come inside you a few times while you were squirting. Wet tears, the good, hot kind, were forming down your cheeks as you come for what feels like the hundredth time in the span of a few slow, tantalizing hours. 

      “There you go, darling, I knew you could do it,” Steve finally pulled out of you, still hard against his stomach. He reached up and wiped the tears off your face. “Now do that again on my face.”

Fuck. You’d get him back another day.

| | |

      “Oh fuck, right there,” you sighed in ecstasy. 

     Steve’s hands were kneading into your back with expertise. He seemed to know just what he was doing, relieving all the tension from your spine and shoulders, and god knows you needed it. It had been about a week since the news came out, and everything seemed much less urgent now. 

     Reports about you two were dwindling, especially because you had stayed lowkey and didn’t flaunt your relationship about town. But it was almost freeing that you had the liberty to do so now, even if your relationship had been unfairly exposed. At least now, you could go out together without wondering if you’d get caught. 

     Steve chuckled and finished up, rolling off of you and facing you on the bed, his eyes glittering as he smiled at you. 

      “You know,” you started, reaching your hand out to stroke his cheek. “I’m kinda glad this all happened. Is that selfish?” 

      “No,” Steve grinned, shaking his head and reveling in the touch of your hand on his cheek. He grasped your wrist, gazing into your eyes. 

      These past few months had been such a whirlwind for the both of you. The both of you were doing things that surprised you, that made you endlessly happy. Steve had never felt more grateful for anything or anyone in his life. You helped him grow, and he did the same for you. He couldn’t see his future without you, and he didn’t even want to imagine it. He knew you were irreplaceable, he knew this was meant to be. Your odd circumstances and the unconventional way you met seemed to emphasize that truth. There was a reason why he had been so blue without you, and there was a reason why he had come back. Deep down, he knew all along that it was worth it, that you were worth it. Nothing else had ever been so clear to him, especially in that moment, gazing into your deep, warm eyes. 

His heart blossomed with that irrevocable feeling, and before he could stop himself, the words were bubbling out of his mouth, 

      “I love you.”

You didn’t have to think, didn’t have to second guess yourself before you replied. You knew it all along, it was just a matter of time before one of you actually said it. And now, after you’d been through so much together, after you’d taught each other so much, and healed from so much as a collective, there was no reluctance. You weren’t scared to admit that it was true.

      “I love you,” you said, with a soft grin and a dreamy look in your eyes.

You didn’t know how long you stayed there together, looking at each other and kissing and holding each other, but it was enough time to make you forget the world. 

ayeeee!!! as a bonus, i’m including this lil thing i made, it’s supposed to be what i imagine moonrose’s IG to look like! the pictures are not her faceclaims, they’re just black women that i imagine moonrose to look like LMAO but she’s free to look like whatever u want her to ♡ this is her aesthetic!!

ENJOY! new chapter soon hopefully!!!!

tags added later ♡ 

[chokemeanakin]

Anakin and a super giggly reader? Like laughing gas giggly? Or if youre wanting fun times request, him seeing reader jealous of the way girls look at him and Ani showing her he only had eyes for her?

I did both :) Hope you enjoy <3

Masterlist

Read it on ao3

Anakin with a giggly reader headcanons (gn)

Normally you’re not this giggly. Don’t get me wrong, you love to laugh and have a good time, but something is off about you today. Anakin notices right away.

He walks into your apartment to bring you some lunch to find you poking at R2, who beeps in annoyance while you laugh at him. He rolls around you, poking you back with his metal utility arm which only sends you into more fits of laughter. You chase him around and try to hug him but he wheels away from you as fast as you can.

Anakin watches you for a moment, a smile on his lips before he realizes how weird you’re acting.

”Y/n?” you turn when he calls your name and your face lights up once again. You run towards him and take the food and when you see he’s brought you your favorite drink, you fall backward onto the couch and start sipping it, a content smile on your face. “What’s got you in such a good mood?”

You finish about half of the drink before you decide to answer. “Obi-Wan gave me like 6 pills for my headache. I feel great!”

”He gave you how many pills?”

Anakin has to stop himself from turning around and hunting Obi-Wan down. Shouldn’t he of all people know how to dose someone correctly? And why didn’t he at least stay with you to supervise you if he knew he messed up?

”Stop pouting,” you giggled and poked his cheek. “It’s not really his fault. He was in a rush somewhere so he left R2 with me. R2 where’d you go?”

He beeped warily from the corner.

Anakin got you to tell him which pills exactly Obi-Wan gave you, and figured out that you were only supposed to get 2 pills at the most. Thank god they weren’t lethal, and side-effects of over dosing were… he guessed it… extreme euphoria.

He releases R2 from babysitting duties and takes over. He wrangles you to the couch where he hopes you can watch a show on the tv until the pills work its way through your system, but everything the screen flashes hurls you into fits of ab-aching laughter. 

You end up in tears, rolling around on the ground, and even Anakin can’t help but smile and shake his head at your ridiculous state. He turns the tv off when you plop onto him and refuse to get off, just playing with his hair and running your fingers over the planes of his face.

Your face gets serious, and then suddenly breaks out into a huge grin, over and over like a cycle. You laugh, but won’t tell him what’s so funny.

He knows you’re not in the right state of mind, but he thinks you’re beautiful when you smile and takes full advantage of the opportunity to stare at it shamelessly. 

Then the second side-effect of overdosing takes place, and you pass out cold right on top of him. 

Anakin Skywalker x Jealous/Insecure Reader (fem)

You had no issue with keeping your and Anakin’s relationship a secret. You weren’t going to stand in the way of his Jedi career, and honestly sneaking around had a bit of a thrill to it. It was only moments like this when you hated not being about to claim Anakin as yours in front of the entire world.

You were taking a break from your tasks of the day and sat on a bench in the garden, eating your lunch as you watched Anakin and Obi-Wan train before you. It was hot out, so the boys had taken their shirts off long ago-- not that you were complaining. 

You tried to observe Anakin as innocently as possible-- the way his muscles moved as he swung his lightsaber, how his hair stuck to his forehead, and beads of sweat dripped down his chest. He was literally glowing in the sunlight. Your heart swelled at the sight of him.

This beautiful man… and he was all yours.

It was then that you heard the giggling. You turned your head to see through the bushes. Senator Padme Amidala was leading a group of three of her friends-- handmaidens, from back when she was Queen-- through the gardens. They had stopped just outside the clearing you were in and were watching, pointing, and giggling at the two boys training. They hadn’t seemed to notice you yet.

Padme walked casually into the clearing, and your heart sunk as the three girls followed behind. They were all beautiful. Not just Padme, with her chocolate brown eyes, endless curls, and soft face. But the girls behind her were all tall, slim, and jaw-droppingly lovely. All four of them seemed to radiate like angels under the afternoon sun.

“Good evening, General Skywalker. Master Kenobi,” Padme greeted with a sweet smile. You knew Padme was an old flame of Anakin’s, but it never really bothered you. He always assured you it was just a little childhood crush, nothing more, and you trusted him. But something about her was making your blood boil now.

“Senator,” Anakin bowed his head in greeting, deactivating his saber. He bent to retrieve his shirt from the ground and wiped the sweat away from his face, giving the girls a full show of his glistening muscles in the process. “What brings you out here?”

“My friends from Naboo are visiting and I thought I’d show them around the gardens. Then I saw you two training and thought I might introduce them to two of the finest Jedi in the galaxy.”

The girls’ laughter tinkled like bells in the air, and Padme kept that same sugary-grin plastered on her face. 

Padme is a friend, you had to remind yourself. She means no harm.

She stepped aside and gestured to the girls, introducing them as Samé, Moté, and Rowé. They each bowed in turn, long curtains of hair almost brushing the ground, and returning to a standing position with equally gorgeous, shy smiles.

Anakin crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow playfully. “I don’t know if we’re the two ‘finest’ Jedi in the galaxy, but your input is appreciated. It’s a pleasure to meet you three.”

This made the girls erupt in another fit of giggles. You wanted to gouge your eyes out.

“Well,” he looked from you to Obi-Wan, not really knowing what to do next. Yet, always the charmer, he offered, “Obi-Wan and I are still in the midst of training, if you would like to stay for a bit. You can sit on the bench with Y/n over there. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind sharing.”

You wanted to crawl into a hole when he pointed you out. All eyes were on you, and you forced your scowl into a pained smile.

“Sure,” you forced a kind tone, scooching over to give them all a place to sit. They all glided over to you, their dresses floating behind them in the breeze.

As soon as Padme sat next to you, you were enveloped in the scent of daisies and vanilla. You wanted to cry. Why did they all get to be so beautiful and smell good?

“Hello Y/n,” Padme greeted with that same sweet smile. Her eyes looked golden in the sunlight. “Are you eating lunch?”

Suddenly, being surrounded by girls who were far taller and toned than you were made your stomach stop grumbling. You put the sandwich that you had been gripping too hard back into your bag, and kicked it under the bench.

“I was just finishing,” you told her.

She nodded, kind face still trained on you as the other girls’ attention was solely focused on the two dueling men before you.

“I’m sorry about barging in… I didn’t mean to intrude. My friends have never met a Jedi before, and when I told them about Anakin and Obi-Wan they were so excited to meet them.”

“It’s perfectly fine,” you folded your hands in your lap, nails digging into the skin of your palms. “You weren’t interrupting anything. And I’m sure Anakin and Obi-Wan would love to show off a little bit.”

“Of course they would. They won’t admit it, but they both have a bit of an ego... as I’m sure you already know,” Padme laughed lightly, her smile blinding you. Then she turned her attention to the Jedi. 

The five of you watched them train for a while. Samé, Moté, and Rowé oohed and ahhed at different times, gasping when the fighting got intense, and crossing and uncrossing their legs. You managed to quell the anger burning in your chest during this time, reminding yourself of how childish you were being. So what a couple of beautiful women were practically drooling over your boyfriend? It’s not like Anakin was even acknowledging them.

You couldn’t help but listen in on their conversations though. It started with a “He’s very cute, don’t you think?” and continued on to “Look at his muscles,” “Look how fit,” “That is one gorgeous man Padme, how have you never thought about courting him?”

“Ladies,” Padme gently quieted their giggling. “Jedi cannot form attachments. You can observe all you want, but acting on any attraction would be disrespectful.”

You could just about kiss Padme.

But the comments didn’t stop. They kept talking about him-- his eyes, his hair, his mouth. His power, physique, strength, everything. It went on and on.

“What about Obi-Wan?” you spoke up. The girls quieted, and surveyed, and the middle girl spoke. 

“He’s also very nice,” she admitted. “I’d take either of them, honestly, but my first choice would have to be the Skywalker guy.”

Your blood started to spike again. They’re not deli meats, you wanted to snap. You can’t own them.

Your jealousy was hypocritical. You knew this. That’s why you stayed rooted to the spot, not a peep coming out of your mouth. 

It was only when the girls began shouting requests-- “Anakin, twirl your lightsaber behind your back again! Anakin do a backflip! Anakin, float me that flower with the force!”-- that you had had enough. 

He had obliged to their requests. Of course he did. He was a gentleman, after all, and ignoring them would have been rude. But watching that rose-- your favorite flower-- fly through the air and gently tuck into Rowé’s silky smooth hair had you shooting to your feet, grabbing your bag from under the bench, and muttering an excuse to leave to Padme. You were out of the gardens before anyone could question you.

You stormed into your apartment, clenching and unclenching your fists as you paced.

It didn’t mean anything, it didn’t mean anything, it didn’t mean anything, you chanted in your head. 

You stopped your pacing when you caught your reflection in the mirror. You stared at yourself, unable to stop comparing yourself to the girls in the garden. 

It’s not that you weren’t pretty. You thought you were… at least before today. But you had never been the most confident in your looks to begin with, and seeing those girls interact with Anakin today felt like a punch in the gut.

He could do so much better.

You weren’t as thin as them, you didn’t wear flowy dresses, or float on elegant footsteps, or have miles and miles of silky smooth hair. You suddenly felt too big, too ugly, too disgusting. 

All the confidence you had worked up in order to be with Anakin… gone.

Suddenly, the door to your apartment opened. You quickly wiped away the tear that had escaped from your eye and turned away from the mirror, heading to the bookshelf to look busy.

“Y/n?” Anakin asked, peering around the corner for you. You kept your back turned, trying to stop the sudden onslaught of tears as you pretended to organize the bookshelf. “You’re upset. Why are you crying?”

“I’m not--” oh, what was the use? Of course he could tell you were crying. It was that damn force perception of his that made it virtually impossible for you to hide any kind of emotion from him. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” he pressed, walking up behind you. Carefully, he put a hand on your shoulder. “You can talk to me.”

“It’s stupid.”

“If it’s hurting you, it’s not stupid.”

“I’m being immature. I just need to get over it.”

Anakin was quiet for a moment. “Is this about Padme’s friends?”

You squeezed your eyes closed, cheeks burning in embarrassment. Anakin spun you around to face him, but you brought your hands up to cover your face.

“I don’t know why you even like me,” you whispered thickly, tears still choking you up. “I’m disgusting compared to them.”

The words burned your tongue as they left your mouth. You had never been so open about your insecurities with Anakin, not like this at least. You had always put on a brave face before him, tried to exude confidence. He said he liked that about you. But now… he was really seeing you at your worst. And you were fully prepared for his feelings to change due to it.

“Y/n,” Anakin said. His voice was clipped, angry. “Y/n, look at me.”

He took your chin in his hand and forced your face up. You dropped your hands from your face, but kept your eyes cast downward shamefully. You could not bear to look him in his beautiful, angry face or you were pretty sure you would lose it altogether.

Instead of snapping at you, which you were preparing for, you felt the ghost of Anakin’s lips trace the skin of your jaw. He pressed a kiss beneath your ear, then the side of your neck, then the junction between your neck and shoulder. He made his way back up, leaving gentle, scalding kisses all over your face and neck. He kissed away a tear that had escaped, swiping another dry with his thumb. He kissed you until you felt okay enough to look him in the eyes.

“There’s my girl,” he grinned. Perfect. Gorgeous. Totally out of your league.

He held your face between both of his hands so you could not escape the intensity of his gaze. His eyes bore into you like lasers, stripping you completely bare. With your incredibly low self-esteem, he very well might as well have.

“Stop,” you muttered. You didn’t want to hear him try to build your confidence back up. There was no going back after the images of those beautiful girls plagued your mind from today.

Anakin pursed his lips and sighed. “Baby,” he smoothed his hand over your hair soothingly, eyes following his movements. “You don’t see what I see.”

“I don’t need to,” you argued. “Not when there’s people like them walking around.”

“But they’re not you,” Anakin’s voice was fierce. “There are so many beautiful people walking around in this galaxy, billions probably, and there’s nothing you can do to change that. But I am attracted to you, Y/n. I love you. And no one else.”

“Why, though?” you couldn’t help but ask. The memory of the flower tucking itself into Rowé’s hair came flashing back into your mind. Her glittering smile. The fluttering eyelashes. The rosy blush painting her cheeks.

Anakin released your face and grabbed your hand instead. “Come here,” he ordered, leading you to the mirror you had been looking at. He positioned you in front of him and stood behind you, arms wrapped around you and chin resting on your shoulder. A king draped over a peasant. 

“Let me tell you what I see,” his deep voice murmured in your ear. He started with your arms, running his hands lightly from your shoulders, dipping into the curves of your elbows, tracing a line down your forearm, and entwining his fingers with yours. “These are beautiful,” his eyes were focused on your reflection. 

He brought his hands back up, then began trailing them down your sides, holding your waist between his large hands and pressing his palms flat against your stomach. “This is beautiful.”

His hands made their way down to your hips, where you had to stop yourself from squirming. You were ticklish there. His hands fit perfectly over your curves, and he breathed, “This is beautiful.”

He got on his knees suddenly, shifting so that he was in front of you. Your face was on fire as his hands continued their journey down, over the tops of your thighs, to your knees, fitting over your calves and holding your ankles. “These are beautiful,” he looked up at you. 

He got up, and caught your chin in his hand again. “And this,” he whispered, breath fanning over your lips. He raked his eyes up and down your face, shamelessly admiring it. “This is the most beautiful of all.”

He captured your lips in his after saying this, feeling the heat pool in your cheeks with his hands. The kiss was soft, and short, and sweet. But it turned you into a pool of jelly under his ministrations, your knees going weak and eyes brimming with tears for a different reason than earlier. 

“There is no need to be self-conscious,” he spoke when he broke away. “There’s no need to compare yourself to other girls. You are mine, and I am yours, and nothing is ever going to change that.”

No words would ever be good enough to show your gratitude toward Anakin. Your solution-- press your lips to his again, and show him how good he made you feel. 

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 1

Rating: Explicit. 18+

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV.

Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Bad girls are sad girls! Always wondered what goes through the mind of a spoiled, rich but intelligent and perceptive teenager? Have you found yourself craving that adrenaline rush, the danger of a forbidden fruit? Okay. That was cheesy as hell. Gross.

Let's try again. Sarcasm? Check. Vine references? Hell yes! Crude humour? Check. Blunt honesty? Double check. We're living in a Lana del Rey song, ladies.

The author doesn't actually condone codependent relationships in real life. This is a filthy little fantasy. Enjoy, deviants.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub​ @mostly-marvel-musings​

Beta read by the lovely and patient @miscmarvelwritings ! She deserves all the love 💙

Pining. I was pining after Stark and it made me upset. I thought I was better than that. Better than acting the part of a lovesick puppy, begging for scraps of attention- a kind word, a pat on the shoulder, a blanket thrown over me in my sleep. Even if he was my Mount Olympus, I wasn't exactly on board with starting the whole damn journey in the first place.

Most of all, I hated being a cliché. I tried my best to avoid showing how I felt and with time, I think I excelled at it. I am really good with things if I really put my mind to it. Was it a blessing, or was it a curse? Only the future will tell. I try not to think about it, as I prefer not to stress out too much. Peter was the anxious kid and I was the calm one. I was the Ying to his Yang. He flipped his shit often and I always calmed him down and cleaned up after him. No complaints there, Pete is pure and precious and I would kill everybody and then myself if he actually got hurt.

I'm only a year older than him and that year feels like an uncrossable bridge to me. We get along like a house on fire and I delight in the way he starts smiling when we're paired together for a project. Deep inside I'm sure he thinks of me as one of his best friends, his homies but-and there's always a but-I can't reciprocitate that. He goes to decathlon after school with his wholesome BFF duo, I go to a local dive bar with a fake ID I'd made sometime when I was about 15.

Peter has everything I wish I've ever had. Good for him. I'm not going to mess that up, no matter how much my angst demands I throw a tantrum and become, like, a supervillain or something.

I banter, instead. I chit-chat. I laugh and I repeatedly make a joke out of myself. Nobody suspects a thing, and I'm not surprised. People always see what they want to see. I've been the weird loner since middle school. Not the sad kind, of course, my pride wouldn't let me. I'm too good at things to be completely ignored. Teachers adore me, the event planning committee approaches me every year with tentative pleas for advice. The list goes on and on; what they don't understand is that it's just High School. Another year and I'll be out of there and nobody will be wiser.

I feel like a liar every time I'm excited. Because I'm not that - I don't care about their stupid field trips or collaborative projects. My mind is five steps and two hops ahead of that bullshit. It has to be or I just won't make it in the world.

"Parker-pen, Mr. Stark. G'day, sirs," I nodded, entering the lab, looking straight ahead. They both were hunched over... Something vaguely mechanical and I was terribly, horribly hungover. Saturday night was Science night but I'd gone to bed around 2PM after a party ran way too late.

"Hi," and "Powerpuff girl," came from them respectively, and they didn't even lift their heads.

I wondered if I could just skedaddle and leave them to their big brain time. "Is this a bad time? I can come tomorrow instead," I immediately regretted speaking, even to my own ears my voice sounds scratchy.

"No, actually, Dr. Ban-Bruce-wanted to talk to you," Peter mumbled out half-coherently. Tony kept ignoring me and I was fine with that. The less temptation I have the less trouble there will be.

"I'm not playing with his zucchini again," I groaned, causing the intricate pile of metal to squeak sadly as Pete tripped over his own damn body, jostling the prototype in the process. I could have sworn the room got several degrees hotter from the boy's blush alone.

Tony cackled, shuffling away from the newly ruined prototype. "He won the damn contest, you should've seen the judges faces," The engineer's grin threatened to split his face in half. I poked at my phone in muted interest. "Hold up, Friday has a recording. I definitely recorded the thing."

A holo-screen popped up. Tranquil scenes of a local fair, gourds and other assorted vegetables of various grotesque sizes were scattered throughout the square. An unmistakable mop of curly greying hair posed proudly next to a zucchini half the size of Hulk - I was fairly certain genetically engineering the plant was cheating and warned him so but somehow Banner managed to persuade the judges into letting him participate, and ultimately win, the competition for the Biggest Zucchini. Some of them were quite shocked at the size of that thing and well - well, their glances were quite contemplative to say the least.

"Damn, Tony, that blonde chick's face tells me all I need to know," I gave a lopsided smirk in the engineer's general direction. That was our thing, you see? He called me these ridiculous cutesy nicknames and asked me about getting my nails done or going to the mall and I'd make salacious comments and go on an occasional flirtatious spree. That was comfortable. We both enjoyed making Peter blush and giggle like the little schoolboy that he was.

"Our Brucie bear is a freak, don't let him tell you any different, Princess," Tony winked at me.

"Oh, I know all about it, Tones," I suggestively wiggled my eyebrows. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Peter groan and palm his face. I briefly bumped my knuckles to Tony's outstretched hand and made my way to the adjacent lab that hosted the second resident crazy scientist.

"Bruce?"

"Oh, hi there, come on in," He smiled warmly at me and I relaxed, shrugging off the tension in my limbs that seemed to appear every time Tony was around me. Banner's soft, friendly nature always made me feel welcomed and appreciated.

We made small talk as I threw on a lab coat and some protective glasses and discarded my bag in the far corner, away from any possible explosions. I congratulated him on his recent victory - here is when I say that despite what most will say, Banner has a serious competitive mean streak and isn't afraid to get down and dirty when it comes to matters of his personal pride.

That's what makes us alike, I think. I have too much dignity and self-respect to walk around Tony with stars in my eyes and hang around his neck like yesterday's tie.

The quiet, even pace of doing lab work made me completely lose track of time. Some time passed as I felt the crick in my neck become noticeable, and the deep ache in my calves from standing and dancing yesterday worsened. I hopped onto the nearest table, hunched over a tablet, eyes skimming over research articles - most of it didn't register at all in the wake of a dull throb behind my temples. My hair limply hung over my face - I had to wash it to get rid of the stench-hard liquor and cigarettes - but I was way too lazy to style it properly.

I ignored the swaying strands until a large palm gently tucked them behind my ear, a white lab coat coming into my field of view. "You okay?" Banner's quiet voice interrupted my reading. I lifted eyes enough to see he was wearing a dorky button-up in some gross shade of blue under the lab coat. His eyes were affectionate behind thinly rimmed glasses.

"Rough Friday night?" He questioned.

I chuckled. "Yeah, I'm hungover as fuck." There was no point in hiding the obvious; I'm sure the bags under my eyes already had tattled on me.

He chuckled, too, leaning his hip against the table, one broad arm coming to wrap around me in a hug. Usually he wasn't so touchy-feely; but I wasn't complaining. Banner was really, really warm. "I'll spare you the lecture on underage drinking," He said with another chuckle.

"Yeah, it's pretty pointless. You'd be three years too late."

A deep sigh left him, both of his arms wrapping around me in a comfortable embrace. I rested my chin on his shoulder, trying my best to really avoid showing how touch-starved I was. I was a hundred percent sure they all figured out my family life was difficult; the last thing I needed was their pity.

"Y'know, we should sit down and talk someday," He said after a brief moment of hesitation. "About your future. College, maybe?"

I gave a non-committal hum, basking in the warmth of the hug, staring straight ahead with unseeing eyes - behind the glass divide, I could faintly distinguish Tony's and Peter's shapes, still bent over that bench the pile of metal.

"You have a lot of potential," Banner continued, his tone developing a gently admonishing hint. "I understand if you want to take some time off from your studies but I'd rather you succeed and not let all that potential go to waste," He finished, patting me on the back with a gentle hand.

I tried not to preen under his touch. "Are you attempting to guilt-trip me over a party, doctor Banner?" I teased him, expecting the smile that I felt being hidden by my hair. Sometimes I felt that I could read the man like an open book, he was so earnest about his interactions.

"I just - we want you to stay safe, okay? Don't blow your future for a little bit of fun," He shrugged carefully.

"Okay, Bruce," I simply replied, meaning it this time

He kept hugging me, running his hand over my back absentmindedly. Probably thinking about his recent science bender. I wasn't upset: my own brain tended to get tangled in personal projects, too. I had only one complaint and it was that the cuddle was making me sleepy.

I yawned, startling the man. Pulling away from the hug wasn't really an option. He was broad and quite strong, probably courtesy of the Hulk and radiation in his blood.

"Why don't we put you in a guest room for tonight?" He inquired and I nodded. "Call your parents for me, okay?"

"My mother is in Vancouver for the week and I doubt she would care anyway," I rolled my eyes. "She's in the middle of some shitstorm with OsCorp and their marketing department." If anything, I was grateful my mother was preoccupied with her job. Being around her was like hanging out on top of an iceberg in the far end of the ocean.

I felt Bruce's frown. His body tensed briefly, blink and you'll miss the hunch of his shoulders. "What about your dad?"

I cringed. "He's been in Ibiza since the season opened, no doubt snorting miles of coke and... " I hesitated. "You can guess the rest."

My dad was kind of a dick, but I don't blame him at all for being the way he is. My parents have been married for twenty years. They were happy, once - I saw their college pictures with my mother's bright smiles and bushy hair, and my dad's terrible fashion sense and their dog, a funny little runt with an atrocious name. Then mother had me and for a while, they were happy too, but it lasted about until she landed her first prospective job. Kind of cliché.

Bruce sighed again. "Okay. You hungry?"

"No, I'm not going near food until tomorrow. Nu-uh," I fake-retched next to his ear, making Bruce shiver and playfully pinch my side.

"It'll help with your hangover. Doctor's advice."

"You're not even that kind of doctor," I laughed, very gently poking him back, somewhere around his stomach. He squirmed.

"I have seven PhDs," Bruce smiled as he rested his chin on top of my head as he adjusted his torso to prevent my fingers from reaching his ticklish spots. I poked him again in retaliation, fully enjoying the snort and squirm I caused. Soft™. "Let's go get you settled in," Bruce, seemingly without any difficulty, picked me up, propping me against his hip like a toddler. It probably looked awkward but what the hell, I haven't been carried around since I can remember myself. My legs wrapped around his hips for balance, butt resting on his forearm.

"You're a showoff," I couldn't help but snort, getting a lopsided smirk in return.

He made his way over to the elevator with me dangling and examining my nails in an expectant fashion. Tony's jokes aside, I really enjoyed getting them done and weird colors were a quest of entertainment for me. I obviously couldn't have them very long because I worked in a lab so I chose outrageous prints and decorations instead. This week, each of my nails had a different style - thankfully my aesthetician was professional enough to make it look somewhat put together even if it took a good chunk of my allowance and an hour long Uber ride to get to her salon.

I noticed the dimmed lights in Tony's lab and none of Peter's usual mess scattered on the tables, figuring he'd already left. Stark himself stood propped against a table, watching something, smoothie in hand.

For only a brief moment, I let my eyes rake over his body, his beautiful, sculpted physique hugged by a pair of fitted jeans and an old Led Zeppelin tee. Tony's handsomeness wasn't obvious, it wasn't in-your-face kind of appearance like Captain America's, but the engineer was built sturdy and his arms - the only bare part of him - were riddled with scars. He used his strong, bulky body for work.

I turned away before I got too ahead of myself. Bruce smelled like lab equipment and rubbing alcohol, something that made me sober up and snap out of my daydream before Stark took notice and started teasing me about ogling him. My once-over lasted barely three seconds yet with Tony's genius, I always had to be on my toes.

I saw movement in my peripheral. Banner waved before entering the elevator - at Tony, probably, so I looked back, seeing the man watching us, content replaced with a contemplating frown. I waved at him, resting my cheek on Bruce's shoulder. "Tony's having a big mood," I noted quietly in the scientist's ear.

"You know Tony," Bruce sighed, adjusting his hold on me as the car ascended to the housing floors. "His brain runs a mile a minute and he can't make sense of it for the biggest part. Give him some time and he'll be back to his annoying self."

I didn't see Tony as annoying in any way, but then again, I was severely biased. The billionaire was quirky venturing into absurd but also clever and brilliant.

We had reached our destination and Bruce carefully set me down on my feet once the door to my room was open. A large queen bed, TV and another door to an adjacent bathroom. It was really simple but luxurious nonetheless - I had the exact same carpet at home, having heard my mother bitch about it's cost after seeing me spill soda on it way too many times.

"I'll let you get settled in. Ask Friday if you need something," Bruce awkwardly shuffled his feet, taking off his glasses and briefly examining them before putting them back on again. "Breakfast here is on the 74th floor starting around 7AM, someone will probably get you around nine if you sleep in," He finished, giving a shy tilt of his lips.

"Thanks, Brucie-bear," The nickname easily slipped from my lips. I didn't resist the urge to hug the kind scientist, quickly wrapping my arms around his middle, delightfully sighing when he immediately returned the gesture.

"Good night, Princess," I had to suppress a happy squeak when the man kissed my forehead before retreating and closing the door behind himself. A quick shower and a quest to find a power outlet to plug my charger into preceded my less than graceful flop into the bed. It felt like sleeping on a cloud, honestly, it had nothing on my mother's orthopaedic memory foam mattresses. I passed out faster than I’d ever had.

[jaycewrites-192000]

Growl: Ch. 11

Warnings: None

Tag List: @theravencawsatmidnight @etroman @kaariqueen

(What I write about Kyotani's dad is completely made up)

It was Saturday afternoon, meaning it was time for Kyotani's punishment. But to him, it wouldn't be as nearly as bad of a punishment since Y/n was with him. She really didn't have to be here, but she was anyway. The two got to work at cleaning, Kyotani would mop the floors while Y/n would clean the windows. "You know Ken, this is a really weird first date." Y/n chuckled as she sprayed more window cleaner on the dirty window of the gym door. Kyotani's heart fluttered at the new nick name. "Yeah? Well, guess I'll have to really make up for it huh?" He said.

"Yes you will. I'm a lady, a lady shouldn't have to clean smudged windows." Y/n said, placing her hand over her chest in a classy way. "Shame on you." Kyotani rolled his eyes. "Pardon me madam. But you could have stayed home." He countered. "And miss out on time with my boyfriend? As if. And I never said this was a bad date." She moves onto another set of windows after finishing the first. "How sweet." Kyotani smirks.

"Oh hey, I bet your mom will be thrilled to know that we're together now. She was really laying it on thick how much she wanted us to date." Kyotani paused. That was right, his mom was desperately trying to get him and Y/n together. Well, mission accomplished then. "Yeah, it's going to be so annoying to hear from here how she was right. And my sister is just gonna be a bi-a jerk about it." Kyotani caught himsef.

Y/n giggled and made her way over to him. "How about after we finish this, you take me over to your place? We can all celebrate together." Before Kyotani could give her an ok, he stopped and thought about something. "Ken?" Y/n tilts her head. "Oh, uh, not today." He muttered. Y/n raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Kyotani hesitated before answering. "My dad is visiting tonight..." Y/n blinked a few times. 'Does...he not have a good relationship with his father?' She thinks. The last time his father was brought up in conversation, he acted this was too. "Ken, do you and him...is there something going on?" She didn't exactly know how to word it other than that. "We don't hate each other, if that's what you think." He tells her.

"Then what? If you don't mind saying." She asked. Kyotani sighs and sets aside the mop he held. Y/n walked behind him and sat on the stage part of the gym. She pats the spot next to her, Kyotani walked over and sat next to her. "He left when I turned 15. My mom and him just kinda...fell apart. And they got a divorce."

"Oh. Kentaro, I'm so sorry." Y/n placed her hand on top of his. "It's fine...I mean, I don't hate either of them for it. And they don't hate each other either it's just...weird you know? He only ever comes by ever few weeks during the weekends. Other than that, I get phone calls and letters from him. He moved to another city so, we don't see each other often. So you can imagine how awkward it gets." Y/n nods as she listens. She looks down at her lap and lets out a soft sigh.

"I wish my situation was even slightly like yours." Kyotani looks at her confused. "Divorced parents too?" Y/n nods. "Yeah but...me and my father...we don't talk at all. It's rare I even get a phone call from the deadbeat." Her eyebrows furrow, and a light scowl formed on her lips. "I'm sorry." She shakes her head. "This isn't about me."

"No it's fine. I've already explained my story. Go ahead." Kyotani insists. "Ok well...He left me and my mother when I was only 10. Mom caught him cheating with some woman he worked with. And apparently, he had been a bit of a drinker before I was born. After that, he would only drink now and then but whenever he did, me and mom didn't see much of him. After my mom found about the affair, she divorced him. And I hadn't seen him since."

Y/n continued. "My father was the one with the well paying job so, after the scandal he was fired. That's when my mom started working a lot more, so we don't talk as much as we use to." By the end of the story, Y/n was crying. "I'm sorry...I haven't really talked about this so..." Kyotani wiped her tears and held her close. "It's fine, you don't have to be sorry." He said in a hushed tone. Y/n laughs weakly, trying to lighten the mood. "Wow, when did cleaning the gym turn into a therapy session?"

Kyotani chuckles lightly and stroked the back of her head. "Since now I guess." Suddenly Kyotani's phone started to buzz. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the screen. "Speak of the fucking devil." It was his father. "He can wait." He was about to send him to voicemail before Y/n stopped him. "No it's ok. Go ahead. I'll get back to cleaning while I wait." Y/n hopped up and grabbed her cleaning supplies again. "You sure?" Kyotani asked.

"Yep!" Y/n beamed before getting back to cleaning. Kyotani looked at the screen again, sighed and then answered. "Hey dad..."

Y/n could catch small bits of the conversation. "Yeah....yep....Wait, really? Oh uh, I can't just yet....I'm at the school I uh, got into a fight so they're making me clean....I know...I know. Yeah ok, I'll be there ok? Alright bye." Kyotani sighed heavily before putting his phone away. "Looks like my dad decided to come early. Damn it said he wouldn't be here until later tonight." Y/n turns to him. "Was he upset? That you had gotten in trouble?" She asks.

"Yeah, but it's whatever. I'll just have to hear more about it later. Fuck." Kyotani leans against a wall. Y/n set aside the cleaning stuff and strides over to him. "Sorry." Kyotani looks at her. "You need to stop apologizing for things that aren't you're fault." He pets her head. "Besides, I did it for you. It's well worth the lecture." He then leans down and kisses her head softly. "Mhm." Y/n blushes brightly. Then a thought suddenly made it's self present in her head. She fiddles with her hands for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to ask this.

"Ken?" Kyotani hums. "Um...would you be opposed to me...meeting your father?" She mumbles the last part of her sentence. Kyotani eyes winded, he wasn't sure how to take that. You already met his mother and sister, so meeting his father shouldn't be such a bad idea. But, he wanted to spare her the awkwardness the night was sure to bring. "Y/n..." He says with a sigh.

Y/n shook her head. "N-nevermind. It's ok. That sounded a bit pushy, sorry." Kyotani scowled slightly. "What did I say about apologizing for things you shouldn't be sorry for?" He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes looking everywhere but her as he thinks. "Ok. You can come meet him."

"Really?" Y/n asks. "Yeah, just, don't say I didn't warn you." Y/n smiles and hugs him tightly. "Thank you Ken!" Kyotani couldn't help but smile and hug her back. "Don't mention it."

That night, Y/n were heading home with Kyotani. Unlike before, an overwhelming wave of nervousness came over her. She was actually going to be meeting his entire family this time. Before Kyotani could bring her to his home, she made a quick stop at her place to change into something more suitable. Kyotani told her it wouldn't be necessary, but she was not about to show up at his place and look a hot mess in front of his family. On the way there, she kept fiddling with heer outfit, making sure it wasn't wrinkled.

"You're nervous." Kyotani spoke up. Y/n paused her actions momentarily. "Yeah, no duh. I want to make a good impression. I know I've met your mother and sister already, but now I'm meeting your father too. And, we're dating so that makes this twice as important." She bring her hands down at her sides. "I want them to like me." Kyotani reached down and held Y/n's hand. "Come on, you're worrying over nothing. You know how much my mom likes you. And my sister does too, she just doesn't want to say."

"And as for my father, who cares if he likes you or not? I like you, that's all that matters. I wouldn't have fell in love with you, if I thought you were a shitty person. There is so much about you that I love. The way you smile, the way you laugh, you always know how to cheer me up, you make me feel loved Y/n. Not to mention you're really cute." Y/n's face turned bright red at his words, he was also a little red. "That should be enough for them. And if it's not, then screw 'em."

Y/n laugh. "That's a little mean, don't you think?" Kyotani smirked and let go of her hand, so he could snaked his arm around her waist. "Not when it comes to you." Before the two teens knew it, they had arrived at Kyotani's home. Kyotani glanced at Y/n, who was holding his hand tightly. "You ready?" He asks. Y/n nods, a determined smile on her face. "I'm ready." Kyotani knocked on the door, and waited. Shortly after, the door opened, revealing a tall man with the same buzz cut as Kyotani, only his was black and not blonde. His golden eyes, that matched Kyotani's too, fell from him to Y/n.

Assuming that was Kyotani's father, Y/n bowed her head in respect. "Nice to meet you sir." She greets him politely. "I apologize for suddenly showing up, but I thought it was time I formally met Kentaro's father." She looks back up, half expecting the same glare Kyotani had when she first met him. But instead, there was a warm and kind smile. "Ah, so this is the famous Y/n Kaori was talking about! Nice to meet you too young lady, the name's Botan." He held out his hand, Y/n smiled softly before taking it. "And just as pretty as I thought she was. Nice work son." Kyotani's dad gave his son a thumbs up.

Kyotani rolled his eyes, cheeks red. "Yeah yeah." He muttered. "Let's just go inside." Kyotani's dad lead the two in where they were greeted by Kaori and Natsuki. "Y/n! What a surprise! Come on in!" Kaori waved her hand, motioning her to come closer. "Hey." Natsuki nods at her before turning her attention back to her phone. Y/n couldn't help but wonder just what kept her glued to that thing. A boyfriend? Girlfriend? A stupidly overrated meme?

"See, didn't I tell you she was beautiful?" Kaori says to Botan. "Yep! Our son sure knows how to bag a good one!" He laughs. "You two...cut it out!" Kyotani hides his red face. 'Wow...they're so alike...' Y/n thought with an awkward smile. "Thank you for having me."

"Like I said, you're welcomed here anytime Y/n." Kaori smiles. "Now, have a seat. Dinner is almost ready. I hope you like (favorite food)!" Y/n's smile brightens. "I do, thank you so much!" It was a nice gesture, but she couldn't help but wonder just how Kaori knew that was her favorite meal. Maybe it was just insane luck? Whichever, she was excited!

"So you're really serious about my bro, huh?" Natsuki glances up at her. Y/n nods, placing her hand on Kyotani's. "I am. I intend on staying with him as long as possible." Natsuki sighs and turns her attention back to her phone. "Eh, hope you like dumbasses then, cause you're stuck with one."

"Natsuki..." Kyotani grits his teeth together. "What, it's true." Natsuki smirks. "Alright you two, no more fighting. We have a guest, we should make her feel welcomed." Botan says trying to calm the tension between the two siblings. "Oh I do feel welcomed, you guys are really the nicest family I've ever met. I'm a little jealous..." Y/n admits shyly.

"Well Y/n, you should start considering yourself part of the family now. Anyone who is willing to date our hot headed son, is family. Especially when they're so polite!" Kaori adds. "Now, who's ready for dinner?"

Y/n felt her chest fill with warmth, she hadn't felt this way in a long time. She had found herself a loving boyfriend, who loves her just as much as she loves him, and to top it all off, his family was so welcoming. It really felt like she was accepted into their lives as one of them. Who knows, maybe one day she really will become part of the family, if Kyotani decides to pop that oh so pretty question, and gives her his last name.

Until then, she was happy with what was right in front of her. And she didn't plan on letting go anytime soon.

Previous | Next

[tinyhwng]

all at once

request? yes (anon)

pairing: idol!bang chan x reader

t/w: none 

genre: fluff + very slight angst

word count: 2,913 (got a little carried away)

a/n: okkkkkk i’ve been out of this game for sooo long so im sorry if this isn’t the best but i tried! anyways, ending this was a little challenging but i hope it still ties everything nicely :) enjoy! 

summary: seeing you again, he realized that somehow, the feelings he tried to escape once seemed to have returned slowly, but all at once and you failed to realize that their latest song was all about what he felt for you.

Last week, you had met a producer for a project and you had set up another meeting date to discuss future plans about your music. He kindly offered to meet up at his studio and you had no reason to decline which resulted in you meeting his eight other friends that you now so dearly felt attached to. But out of all of them, the one you bonded the most was Chan. He felt similar yet different. He talked about the deepest things and let himself bring comfort to your terrible days. You vented about the exhausting amount of stress that slowly tore through your resilient willpower to make it through as an artist. He comforted you through the days that made you regret where you were today and helped you bring out the emotions you kept all to yourself. He was someone that mattered a lot to you. A best friend anyone would be so lucky to have.

But things started going south.

You noticed the lack of attention he gave you and you thought that maybe, he was just busy and you tried to understand that. Yet as things went on, his lack of time became even more obvious. He would go out of his way to avoid you, not attend the meetings that involved you and from then, you saw him less and less. You tried calling him but the only response you would receive is his voice telling you to leave a voicemail. You asked the other boys if something had been bothering Chan but all the answer they could give you was that he was "busy". Bullshit. You didn't know what you had done wrong and that was enough to anger you. You wanted to apologize but he wouldn't even face you. 

Nothing seemed right. If he was going through something, you wondered why he wouldn't even bother telling you. It wasn't until you bumped into him at a nearby coffee shop that you finally had a chance to talk to him.

"Chan!" You called out for the boy.

Almost jumping, he turned around to face you. His face almost mortified. "H-Hey."

"Can we talk?" You peeked under his hat, his eyes barely visible to you. "Please?"

You both sit at a table as the atmosphere filled with tension grew. 

"What are you working on?" Your eyes glance at his laptop which he's been typing on ever since you had gotten there.

"Producing stuff." He answered, quickly but softly.

"Oh, for who?" You were beating around the bush, feeling slightly terrified of what he may say if you ask him what's been bothering you.

"No one yet. Just for future references." 

"Chan-"

His eyes freeze at the screen.

"Are you mad at me?"

His eyes quickly shoot back at you, confused at first but realized that you might've felt that way with the way he's been acting around you. "What? No"

"Then why are you ignoring me?"

"I'm not ignoring yo-"

"Stop it. Stop lying." You look down, frustrated that none of your answers were answered. "It's been weeks Chan. We wouldn't have talked if I never bumped into you here."

"I'm just busy Y/N." His voice became softer, wanting to comfort you. He knew you felt frustrated but he did too.

"Could've you at least have told me that? So then maybe I wouldn't be spending days and nights thinking of what I did so wrong that you don't even bother to look for me." Your voice trembled. It wasn't the first time he'd seen you this vulnerable but it was definitely the first time that he was the reason you looked like that. 

‘’I know, and I'm sorry. I-I really should've told you but with all the stress... I- don't know. I lost track y/n" You could hear the sincerity from his voice and although you were supposed to be mad at him at that moment, you couldn't help acknowledge his words. "And y/n, I really wasn't mad at you. I promise. It's just-

"Just what?" 

"Nothing. I don't think it's the right time to tell you that right now."

"Why would it not be the right time? Are you leaving or something?"

"No- it's not that. I'll tell you soon, I promise."

You nod at his response, not knowing what to expect but somehow, his words eased you that truly, there was nothing to be worried about. You felt relieved that you now know that you had done nothing wrong.

The two of you parted ways shortly after he received a call from his manager. It was a short meeting but it meant a lot and very much answered the questions you've been wondering about.

A week after your last meeting, you decided to visit the studio to visit the boys. It was a spare time in your schedule so you decided to surprise them. You entered the studio and immediately counted the heads where you noticed that one of them was missing. "Hi, guys." You greeted, lifting the box of chicken with both of your hands that you brought. They immediately ran to you, with incoherent thank yous and we missed yous.

"Where's Chan?" Your eyes continued to wander the room, wondering if he was somewhere you had just missed. 

“Not here." the youngest said with Chicken occupying his mouth. "Why?"

"Well, I just thought he'd be with you guys."

"Studio. His studio." Jisung ran up to you, with chicken in his hands and offered it. "Eat with us, y/n."

You nicely declined as you had eaten prior to coming there. "Where's the studio?"

"Down the hall, to the left" Seungmin responded. "He's been there for hours so I don't think he'll mind company."

"Thank you." You made your way out of the room, with a cup of hot chocolate for Chan and a cup of coffee for yourself. You soon made it down the hall, facing your left as you inhaled in before knocking.

The door slowly creaked open with barefaced Chan staring back at you. "Ahh--- Y/N what the heck." His face looked flustered, his ears quickly turning red as you giggled your way in.

"Let me in Chan, please." You cautiously laughed, not wanting to spill the drinks you had been holding.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming... I look terrible right now." 

"You literally look the same but go off."

"Ouch." Chan teased, his hands still covering half his face.

"No- I mean you look good still." You blurted out. "Anyways- How's it going?"

You and Chan exchange greetings and he lets you listen to bits of the songs he's been working on.

"Wow Chan, it sounds so good."  You stare at his computer in awe. You pulled out a chair and sat beside him as you began skimming through his other songs. "Ugh, why are you talented. This isn't fair." You muttered, with your eyes fixed on the screen.

You weren't looking but Chan was too distracted to even respond to what you were saying. His eyes fixed on you as you listened to the songs he's worked so hard on. He loved it when people listened to the things he created but somehow, it was different with you. The look you have that just got his heart beating faster than usual. The way you compliment his skills like he was the only one capable of doing it. Anything you did just felt so special to him and lately, you were the one that had been going through his mind as he produced songs. Butterflies were definitely an understatement.

As you skimmed through his neverending folder of songs he's never put out, you stumbled upon one called the moon behind the stars. You played it, not knowing what it was. As the melody played, your heart eased into it. Somehow, you wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. It was so beautifully made that you had lost track of where you were but something was missing. The lyrics.

"Chan, wheres the lyrics for this one. It's too good to not have one." You asked, turning your attention towards him.

"There isn't any-" A slight panic in his tone made you even more curious. "It's unfinished."

"It was created almost two years ago though. Something like this should be out there Chan, I'm telling you. It's beautiful."

"I know but it doesn't really fit into any of our album themes yet." He scratched his head.

"Why not?"

"It's a love song, y/n."

"Oh-" Your face looked back to the computer in shock, repeating the song again. "What is it about though?"

"It's cheesy-" he replied, cupping his own cheeks as he whined.

"Oh please. Cheesy is literally MY genre." You laughed.

He sighed, "okay then." You made yourself comfortable as you stared at him, waiting for him to tell you all about it. "Well first, the title "the moon behind the stars" means two things. First, it illustrates how a person is too scared to admit that they're in love but still wants to have a good front towards the other person they're trying to distance themselves from, thus, "the moon behind the stars. Second, it's about the moon representing the one you have feelings for. Even with all the stars, shining and being pretty, somehow, it's always the moon that catches your eye. Almost like, 'there's plenty of fish in the sea but you're the only one I see.' and it has a melodic piece because even though you see them all the time, it's almost impossible to actually be with them. The space between the world and the moon represents the other person's fear and anxiety towards losing the other person. I say it's a love song but it could pretty much pass as a sad song at this point." Chan giggled. "Well- that's kind of all I have for that."

You listened, wonderstruck and speechless at his explanation. "H-How did you even come up with this? All this time I thought you were just an angsty teen who wants to overthrow the government but I guess I'm wrong."

He loudly laughed. "I don't know either."

‘’Unless... it's through experience." You teased, pinching his sides.

"Wha- no. It's not like that. I was just messing around, really." He explained but with the most unconvincing tone.

You definitely didn't buy it. "Who was it Channie. Tell me."

Channie... it had been a while since you had called him that. He's been trying to stay away from you so he could sort his feelings out. He wanted to get over you, fearing that maybe wanting you more than as a friend could put your friendship at risk. But as soon as you muttered his nickname Channie again, his feelings for you came back, slowly and all at once. It hit him as he saw you giggle as you teased him. He sat there with a rapidly beating heart, admitting that maybe, his feelings were never gone. He looked away, feeling his mouth dry out. The love of his life was in front of him and fear was the only thing that kept him from telling you so. He shyly stuffed himself behind his hands, knowing he had been blushing the whole time.

"Chan- are you okay?" You stopped yourself in the middle of laughing with a concerned look in your face. You placed a hand on his back, not knowing why he was suddenly like that.

"I'm okay." He said behind his hands. His voice was soft, but you could tell he was smiling.

"Are you shy? Did me asking who it was made you that shy?" You teased. "They must've been special, Chris."

His heart was about to explode. You calling him Chris was probably his greatest weakness and although he hears that a lot, hearing it from you made it sound so special. If you could just say it once more, he would definitely combust.

"Chan your ears are red, oh my god. Are you okay?" 

He sat upright, collecting himself after almost losing himself. "Yes, I'm okay." He smiled, breathing heavily. 

"I'm surprised you never told her about this." You muttered, repeating the song once more. "Probably would've loved it."

"I doubt that."

"What do you mean? Every girl I know that trained under this building during that time had the biggest crush on you."

"Yeah, right." He turned to you. "Did you?"

"Of course. I told you, Chan. Every single girl did."

His face froze at your upfront answer. Stuttering as he tried to go back to the conversation.

"Are you that surprised that I liked you? I thought it was pretty obvious back then."

"Wha-"

"So you didn't think of anything when I was always using the same studio you guys were using? Are you kidding?" You laughed.

"No..."

"I literally came to your busking event when I had an evaluation half an hour after that." Tears were almost coming out of your eyes as you laughed out loud.

"Oh my god, y/n"

“I know. I was pathetic."

"This whole time... I thought you liked Hyunjin."

"What the fuck- Chris are you kidding? Please say sike."

"I'm not. I literally thought-"

“Hyunjin's my family friend oh my god. He's literally like a cousin to me."

Chan covered his open mouth with his hand, shocked at what he was hearing. ”Oh my god, y/n"

"You're stupid." You teased, slapping his arm. "I did so much and you didn't even notice shit. This is peak embarrassing, Chan."

"I- I'm sorry." he teased.

"The hot chocolate I brought after the JYP stage, the-"

"The hot chocolate? Didn't you give everybody one."

You facepalmed at his response. "I- I gave everybody a cup of coffee dumbass. I knew you didn't like coffee so I specifically ordered hot chocolate just for you."

He went speechless, feeling bad that he looked over your effort back then.

You sighed, "whatever, it's okay. It's over now." 

Suddenly, Chan wanted to confess something. "Actually, y/n."

"Hm?"

"That song," he pointed at his computer. "It's about you."

You stared at him for a while, not comprehending his words. "Sorry?"

"It's about you. You're the moon behind the stars."

"Huh?" You hurriedly repeated the song. 

Chan shyly muttered but it was too incoherent for you to understand, "Sorry can you say that again."

"I- It's actually finished," he confessed. "But it's context is different but I kept the melody and everything."

"What- how?"

He took the mouse from your hand and searched through his folder. Neverending Story.

"Here it is." 

"Wait- Chan. This is released though?"

"Yeah, I know. It's uhh, about you." he voice was soft, almost too quiet to hear.

"It's finally admitting my feelings and that however things might turn between us, I won't ever let go as a person that deeply cares for you and that however long I might have to wait, it's okay because, in the end, my feelings for you just don't ever seem to go away." 

You stuttered in response, not knowing how to take this all in. You've liked him then and you've always felt the same since. 

"Chan- this is beautiful. I don't know what to say."

"It's okay. You don't have to."

"Is this why you have been ignoring me?"

"Kind of. I put out this song with everything I've always wanted to tell you and it was really hard to face you. I know you didn't feel the same but I wanted to at least tell you what I've felt. I was wondering that maybe putting out this song and ignoring for you a bit would make everything go away and let me accept how things are between us now but I realized that somehow, my feelings never left. Every time I'd see you, my heart beats a special type of way and always makes me think that maybe, the moon might not be that impossible to reach." 

You could see him tremble as he explained everything to you. You reach out, holding his hand. "Thank you, Chris. This song is beautiful and so is the message. I'm sorry if I made you think that I would never reciprocate your feelings-"

"y/n, you don't have to-"

You cut him off. "The truth is that, after all this time, I really do still like you. More than before, and I feared that I would get in the way of your dreams. I wanted to be your support still which is why I stayed behind all this time. You have been there through my worst and my successful times. You made me the artist that I am today and you let me stay as the person I am around you. Chris, I don't know where this will take us but I hope you know I still really do like you a lot."

Chan took hold of your hand and sobbed as he held them close. "Thank you, y/n. Thank you so much."

[lils-writes-stuff]

A Family Affair

spencer reid x reader

Best Years Part 5 | part 4 | part 3 | part 2 | part 1

Summary: as a case from atlanta dwells, the readers past make more advances. 

Warnings: normal criminal minds things

A/N: based on season seven episode 16 

 “You can’t hide forever Y/N,” the voice spoke. 

 Y/N’s eyes darted around the room she was in. She sat in a chair but she wasn’t able to get up from it. The smell of the damp room overwhelmed her as tears began to roll down her cheeks, 

“No,” she spoke with a trembling voice. 

“Nothing lasts forever Y/N, you know that,” The voice said before revealing itself. Caroline walked out from the shadows of the room, gun in her hand and a evil look on her face. “All the things you love will be gone soon and you know it.” 

 As the words left her mouth, lights flickered on beside her and she saw her team sitting there tied up to chairs.

 She made eye contact with Spencer, who than mouthed that it was okay. 

 “No, no- do not touch them, hurt me- take me, do whatever you want to me!” Y/N tried to plead to her tormentor, but Caroline just shook her head.  

 “Too late.” 

Y/N sat up in a cold sweat, clutching her chest as she hyperventilated. She reached and wiped the small tears that were on her cheeks. 

 “It was just a dream,” she tried to reassure herself. “Just a dream.” 

Y/N pulled herself out of her bed, pulling Spencer’s sweater that sat on the edge of the bed over her bare arms and pulling the ends of it over her torso that adorned a grey tank. Her feet shuffled as she walked to the bathroom to quickly brush her teeth then through her small living room into the kitchen where a fully dressed Spencer stood, ready to start the day. 

 “Good morning,” he said looking up from the book he had in his hand. 

 “Hi,” Y/N responded, voice full of sleep still. She brought herself over to the coffee machine, completely avoiding Spencer who was awaiting attention.

 “No love?” he asked with a small pout on his lips.

 “Coffee,” she said softly as she poured herself a cup.  

  “Uh-huh,” Spencer said as he walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Usually, when they shared their mornings together and he did this, she would always lean back and lay in his arms. “What’s wrong?” 

 “Nothing just had a bad dream, spooked me a bit that’s all,” she said reassuring him. That wasn’t a lie, it was just a dream, she thought trying to reassure herself also.

 “Are you sure?” He asked. 

 “Yes, bub, I am sure,” she said, using his nickname she gave him a little after they started dating. She placed her mug on the counter and turned in his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

 Spencer pulled her closer to him and connected their lips. Y/N loved when he was in a needy mood, it meant cuddles and kisses and all the attention she could give to him or vice versa. 

 The slow morning kiss tasted like coffee and toothpaste. Spencer held her closely as he pecked her lips multiple times diligently, making Y/N’s heart soar. 

 The moment was short-lived as both of their phones rang meaning Hotch needed them there in the office sooner than planned.

 “No,” Y/N said, dragging out the ‘o’ in sadness. 

 “Go get dressed I’ll make you a coffee to go,” Spencer told Y/N. 

 She sighed in defeat. She grabbed Spencer’s arm as she walked away, her sliding down to his and then finally letting go and walking to her room to get ready.  

--------

 Emily, Y/n, and Penelope laughed at the story Penelope was telling as they entered the round table room. As they walked in they saw JJ take a shot of Five-hour energy.

 “Whoa you’re not messing around,” Y/N said with a chuckle as she sat down in a chair at the table. 

 “Mm, Will’s away all week, so I am pulling double duty with Henry,” JJ said as she finished the shot. 

 “Please tell me we are still on for Saturday night because I have had it circled in my calendar for the last 23 and a half days, which apparently, from the look of you you did not,” Penelope said rushed while she looked at JJ. She set her mug down and took a seat in her chair.

 “Ooh, Garcia paid good money for those salsa lessons,” Emily said, tucking a piece of hair behind her hair. Y/N nodded her head in agreement.

 Spencer and Morgan walked into the room and took their seats hearing the tail end of the conversation. 

 “I’ll get a sitter,” JJ said, feeling guilty for not remembering the plans that they had made.

  “Let’s get started,” Hotch said walking into the room with Rossi, the two taking their seats at the table. 

  “Okay, Atlanta Field office has a serial on their hands,” Penelope said as she opened her tablet. “Two prostitutes stabbed and staged in the last two weeks.”

 “Atlanta’s crime rate has skyrocketed over the last few years, especially the proliferation of solicited sex and drug use in the downtown district,” Spencer said. 

 “Maybe this guy thinks he’s cleaning up the city,” Emily said looking up from her tablet. 

 “It’s rare for an unsub who targets prostitutes to pose the bodies,” Y/N said, eyes trained on the pictures of the bodies. 

 “The means of disposal usually reflects how the person feels towards them,” JJ said.

 “It looks like he didn’t think poorly of his victims, even kept them dressed,” Rossi said eyes going towards the screen. 

 “He could be filled with remorse. The arms are folded, the bodies laid to rest in a quiet park outside the city,” Derek said while he pointed at the pictures with a pen. 

  “Maybe he knew them?” Y/N asked as she looked up from her tablet. 

 “It could be personal, there’s a lot of rage in these kills, multiple stab wounds,” Emily said.

 “What about sexual violations?” Rossi asked looking at Hotch.

 “No, the M.E.’s report says there’s no evidence of sexual activity before death,” Hotch says in response. 

 “So what’s he doing with them?” Penelope asked.

 “That’s what we need to find out, wheels up in 20,” Hotch said.

---------

   “Yes, Mom-- I know I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the last time I was coming down,” Y/N said to her mother on the phone. “Well, to be honest, it wasn’t the first thing on my mind to stop by and say hi since I was trying to catch a serial killer not too far from my home.” 

 The team listened as she paused and a look of horror filled her face. 

 “No ma’am I didn’t mean that in a smart ass way you know that, I’m sorry, I’ll come by if I can-- I will love you bye,” She hung up the phone grabbing her coffee from the bar before heading back to her seat next to Spencer. 

 The team looked at her with amusement after hearing the conversation between her and her mom. 

 “What? Don’t act like your Mom still doesn’t strike fear in you when she has that tone,” she said, mostly looking at Derek who she knew was about to say something to her. He opted to just raise his hands, knowing she was right. 

 “Okay, so both of the victims had 250 dollars on them when they were found, why wouldn’t the unsub take that?” Emily asked, changing the topic back to the case. 

 “It’s a lot to pass up, money must not be on his mind,” Rossi said. 

 “Dumping the bodies certainly is,” JJ said while opening the file that laid on the table. “He chose two different parks outside of Atlanta.” 

 “The parks are 15 miles apart and 40 minutes from the city, speaks to his comfort zone,” Spencer said. 

 “Or he didn’t want to return to the same location and risk getting recognized,” Derek countered. 

  “Hey guys, I hate to be the messenger of sad things,” Penelope said through the speaker of the laptop. “But yet another body has been discovered by some joggers at yet another park. Her name’s Rebecca Moore and, get this, a missing person report was filed on her.” 

 “How long was she missing?” Y/N asked. 

 “36 hours.” 

 “Who filed it?” Emily asked.

 “Her friend, Allyson Parker,” Penelope answered. 

 “Prentiss, you, Y/N, and JJ find out from Allyson if she has any insight on why Rebecca was targeted. Morgan and Reid, go to the disposal site, Dave and I will set up at the field office,” Hotch said telling everyone where to go. 

---------

  JJ, Emily, and Y/N pulled off the street as they arrived at the spot where Allyson told them to meet her. 

 “Allyson Moore?” Y/N asked as the approached a Brunette who stood on the corner. 

 “Yeah that’s me,” she responded. 

 “Hi, I’m Agent Y/L/N, this is Agent Prentiss-” she pointed to Emily on her left and then pointed to her right- “and this is Agent Jareau.”

 “Nice to meet you,” Allyson responded. 

 “We’re very sorry for your loss,” JJ said. 

 “How long were you and Rebecca friends?” Emily asked.

 “3 years,” Allyson responded getting choked up. 

 “You two had each other’s backs, that’s why you filed the report, right?” Y/N said looking at the girl.

 “It was almost two days, I thought she was at the police station. Getting locked up is better than disappearing with one of them,” Allyson explained. 

 “So what made you think something was wrong?” JJ asked. 

 “She always came back,” Allyson said. “Bad as it was, this place was home, you know?”

 “Did she have any regular customers?” JJ continued with her questions. 

 “We all do.” 

 “Rebecca had over 250 dollars on her,” Y/N said,

 “She did?” Allyson said, less a question more of a statement of disbelief.  

 “What would that kind of money get a customer?” Emily asked.

 “A lot,” responded Allyson. 

“Like, all night or….,” JJ trailed off wanting Allyson to finish her thought. 

 “Nowadays? Yeah,” Allyson responded. 

 “We need to take you back to the last time you saw Rebecca,” Emily explained, setting Allyson up for what they were about to do. 

 “Where were you standing?” Y/N asked watching as Allyson transported herself to that night. 

 “Facing which way?” Emily asked. 

 “Street-” she nodded towards the road- “A truck pulled up. He was one of my regulars. I was talking to him through the window when Rebecca pulled up in a silver beamer.”

 “Did you recognize the car?” Y/N asked Allyson.

 “No, it must have been a new customer,” Allyson explained. 

 “What did she do after that?” Emily asked. 

 “She looked back at me and then started walking down the block, that was the last time I saw her,” Allyson said, but then she stopped. “Wait a second, there was an older gray van. I’ve seen it around here before, it was parked there a long time.” 

 “A van? Where?” JJ asked as Allyson came back to where she was. 

  “It parks right there,” Allyson said pointing to a spot by a couple of trash cans. 

 The three women turned their heads to look at the spot. 

 “Could you make out the license plate?” Emily asked. 

 “No it was dark,” Allyson responded to their dismay. 

 “How long was it there?” Y/N asked turning her head to look at Allyson. 

 “A few hours probably, why?” Allyson asked.

 “It’s a loading zone, permit parking only,” Y/N explained.  

 The three women thanked her before they headed back to the SUV.  

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

 “Allyson remembered seeing a van parked on the street the night that Rebecca disappeared,” Emily said as her, Y/N, and JJ walked into the conference room. 

  “And she’s seen it before, but get this, it was parked in a loading zone for hours,” Y/N added.

 “Well, why don’t we check any recent tickets?” The Atlanta field office agent, Agent Brooks, said. 

 “Our analyst already did that, nothing,” Emily said.

 “It’s not a residential area, so a vendor maybe, Garcia pulling permits now,” JJ said. 

 “He’s done this three times before,” Rossi began. “Each victim is left with 250. That’s a 750 dollar investment, he didn’t have to make.” 

 “He has every chance to take that money back, but he buries it with them instead,” Derek said while he looked at the crime scene photos in his hands. 

 “It could be an expression or a manifestation of his guilt,” Emily said. 

 “Everything that happened postmortem- keeping them dressed, crossing their arms, laying them to rest- it’s all very nurturing,” JJ said.

 “But the kills are the exact opposite, incredibly violent and angry.” Y/N said countering JJ’s argument. 

  “Multiple personalities?” Emily asked.

 “Or multiple unsubs,” Hotch answered. “The violent one submits there dominance and the submissive one if left to clean up the mess.” 

 The team sat in silence as they thought and looked over the case file. Everyone’s attention soon turned to Agent Brooks as her phone rang. 

 “Brooks,” she said answering the phone. “Okay, we’ll be right there. There’s been another body.” 

 “Damn,” Y/N said. “These guys are moving fast.”

 “They are, Morgan and Y/N go to the latest crime scene with Agent Brooks, the rest of us will stay here,” Hotch said looking between Y/N and Derek. 

 The two Agents nodded and followed Brooks out of the office.

 It was a ten-minute drive to the crime scene, the three hoping out of the vehicle, and following an Atlanta Police Officer to the body. Brooks walked away from the scene as she answered her phone than talked to one of the responding officers and came back a minute later. Y/N and Derek looking over the body as she approached. 

 “Her name was Julie Harmon, lives in a loft downtown,” Brooks spoke looking at the body. “Envelope of cash was in her bag, wrapped in plastic.” 

 “That’s new,” Y/N said as she inspected the outfit Julie was wearing. “It looks like she’s prepped for burial.” 

 “This woman doesn’t fit his victimology,” Derek said while he crouched down next to the body to look closer.

 “Yeah, look at her nails,” Y/N said pointing to the fresh manicure that Julie had. 

 “The ways she’s dressed, her shoes haven’t hit the pavement,” Derek said in agreement to Y/N’s observations. 

 “Maybe she’s a high-class call girl,” Brooks said.

 “Who fought back and got punished for it,” Derek said. 

 Y/N inspected the body some more before she spoke. “Blunt-force trauma and the same bruising on the thighs, this one is the most violent yet,” she said. 

 “And the shortest time between kills,” Derek added to which Y/N hummed in agreement. 

  “Feel’s like he’s trying to break some kind of record,” Brooks said. 

 “This team has a complicated dynamic. Ultimately, they trust one another,” Derek said looking between Y/N and Brooks. 

 “They’re still codependent too, enabling each other,” Y/N added. She thought of all the different kinds of relationships that could have this dynamic. 

 “It sounds like any dysfunctional relationship, how do we narrow that down?” Brooks asked. 

 “Through her-” Derek pointed at Julie- “The more we can learn about Julie, the better we can understand why they’re doing this.”

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

   After the Derek and Y/N returned to the office, the team began to piece together a profile on who they believed their unsubs were. Y/N stared at the pictures of the bruising on the leg’s of the victim’s, not sure what it was but it felt monachopsis.

 “What are you thinking?” Spencer asked Y/N, noticing her staring at the board. 

 “The bruising, it doesn’t look like any form of torture we’ve seen, it almost doesn’t seem like it is torture,” Y/N explained turning to Spencer. 

 “Maybe it isn’t, but what else could it be?” He questioned looking at her. 

“I don’t know,” Y/N responded with a shrug. 

“Guys, we’re ready,” JJ told the two in the room prompting them to follow her to the rest of the team. 

  “We’re looking for a pair of white males in their late 20s to early 30s, who’ve developed a pattern of overkill followed by remorse,” Hotch explained to the Agents that were scattered throughout the office. 

 “This usually points to a dominant/submissive partnership,” Y/N said. 

 “The submissive follows the rules, knows the dominants type. Obtains the victims, and disposes of the body once the dominant has completed his killing ritual,” Spencer explained. 

 “What is the ritual?” Brooks asked. 

 “It most likely involves some form of bondage,” Emily began her explanation. “All the victims have identical bruises on their thighs, but we’re not sure if it’s done during capture or kills.”

 “There’s no sexual assault, which tells us the dominant is likely impotent or is experimenting with other forms of sexual release,” Rossi said. 

 “We often refer to this as a ‘thrill kill’,” Derek explained. “The dominant is inducing pain and creating terror without a sexual element.” 

 “This often provides him some stimulation and excitement, kind of like an adrenaline rush. The thrill of the murder is only a temporary fix,” Y/N said. 

 “Like any narcotic, the violence satisfies his senses for a time, but then it fades. This is why his cooling-off period is nonexistent,” Derek added. 

 “Despite a public investigation, the unsubs have continued killing. The risk of getting caught does not trump their need to kill,” JJ said as she looked around at the Agents. 

 “Thank you,” Hotch said dismissing everyone back to what they were doing. 

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

   “Julie Harmon was a sexual surrogate,” Derek said walking into the room after talking to Penelope. 

 “Whoa, sounds like somebody felt like a little progressive prescription might fix everything,” Emily said twirling her pen in the left hand. 

 “Well, they were wrong,” JJ added. 

 “That’s not just going from high- to low-risk victims. A sexual surrogate’s a very specific type,” Hotch said. 

 “It seems like they were trying to fix something, I mean why else would you call a therapist?” Y/N asked. 

 “They do treat patients with all types of disabilities, whether it’s developmental, physical, or emotional,” Emily explained looking at Y/N.

 “My guess is this guy had all three,” Derek began. “I mean, let’s look at physical: he’s got the upper body strength to kill, but the victims bruising tells us that he was using restraints.” 

 “Only they’re not on the wrists or ankles where restraints usually are, they’re tramline bruises around the thighs,” Rossi said pointing to the bruises on the photo. 

 “It’s as if the victims are straddling a chair,” Spencer said. 

 At this Y/N had a click, “What if it’s a wheelchair?”

 Spencer turned his head to look at Y/N as they had the same click. “Physical infirmities, with strong arms. That does make sense.”

 “That would also explain the van parked in the loading zone, handicap permits grant access all over the city,” JJ said agreeing with the two. 

 “I’ll call Penelope,” Y/N said stepping out of the room with her phone. She walked down the three steps that led up the room they were in and pressed Penelope’s contact name for her work phone. 

 “Hiya sugar what can I do for you?” Penelope asked answering the phone. 

 “Hey Penelope, I need you to look for handicap permits of those in the comfort zone for me, please,” Y/N requested to the woman over the phone. 

 “Sure thing, also I have to tell you something that’s a little suspicious,” Penelope said making Y/N’s heart beat faster. 

 “What is it?” She asked with nervousness. 

 “Caroline Roberts, I put a flag on her in case something suspicious or odd happened to alert me, anyways she hasn’t shown up for work in two weeks,” Penelope explained.

 “Oh maybe she just went on vacation or something,” Y/N said trying to reassure herself it was probably nothing. 

 “Sugar, it wouldn’t have alerted me if that was the case, but don’t you freight because right before she left she bought a ticket to head over to London, now I don’t know what that means, but it does tell me she’s out of reach from here for a while.” 

 “Okay thanks, Penelope, hit us back with that list?” Y/N asked. 

 “Faster than you can say my name, I bid you a-do.” 

 Y/N hung up her phone and entered back into the room with the rest of the team. 

----------

  Y/N sat with Spencer, JJ, Derek, and Emily in the small conference room. Her eyes were trained on the board looking at all the victims, all different ideas running through her head while the team talked. She wasn’t really listening though, only hearing parts of what they were saying. 

 “Maybe the caretaker is a woman, by nature, women prefer cleaner disposal methods,” JJ said peaking Y/N to listen to what was being said. 

 “I don’t know. I mean, that terrain was something serious,” Derek said referring to the dumpsite he went to with Spencer. “No offense, ladies, but Reid and I hiked up that ridge, and there’s no way a woman physically fit or not, could carry dead-weight all that way.” 

 “And we profiled that the partners in a wheelchair, so that would make it impossible for him to help with disposal,” Emily added in agreement. 

 Y/N stood up from her seat and walked over to the board to look at the pictures closer. Words scattered between the pictures of the crime scene from them trying to form the profile more. 

 “So there’s a third person involved, that rarely works there’s usually two against one, ” Derek said. 

 Y/N trailed back into her thoughts as her eyes darted between the pictures.

 “They’d have to trust each other completely, so what kind of relationship involves that dynamic?” Spencer asked. 

 Y/N’s mind then thought back to something her mother always used to tell her: No matter what we will always protect you Y/N, through hell or high water, because we are your parents. 

 “What if it’s parents protecting their child?” Y/N asked, turning around quickly from the board to the four sittings. “My parents always told me growing up that they would protect and help me no matter what. So what if this is like that.”

 “They raise them, they root for them,” JJ said with realization. 

 “They would share the same genes,” Emily added. 

 “Apples don’t fall from the tree,” Y/N agreed. 

 “A parent would hold themselves accountable for the child being injured, that explains the guilt,” Spencer said. 

 “Yeah, but what kind of sick family pulls this off?” Derek asked. 

 “One that’s done it before,” Y/N answered. 

 “I’ll get Hotch and Rossi,” JJ said standing up to exit the room. The rest of the nodded and waited for her to come back with the.

 The five than explained why it was probably a family to Hotch and Rossi. The family probably only had one child because a sibling would be less than likely to participate. If the child was hurt in an accident and the parents felt responsible they would do anything to make them happy.

 “Murder probably wasn’t something they planned though, it came as an extreme side effect of the son’s condition,” Y/N explained to Hotch.

 “If there was orbital cortex damage from the accident, it would help to explain why killing is his release,” Emily added.

 “If the mother has psychopathic tendencies, she could have passed it down through her X chromosome,” Spencer explained.

 “Garcia’s looking up accidents now that have the parents at fault,” JJ said. 

 “That list has to be long,” Rossi spoke as he raised an eyebrow. 

 “Uh- it is, So she is also looking for unsolved cases in the state,” JJ added. 

 “There’s a good chance this isn’t the first time the son has acted out,” Y/N explained. 

 As Y/N finished her statement, JJ’s phone rang. 

 “Hey, Garcia, you’re on speaker,” she said to her over the phone. 

 “Okay, the only thing I can find that’s remotely similar to this is from five years ago. A coed at Georgia state was stabbed and left in a park,” Penelope said.

 “Did she have bruises on her inner thighs?” Rossi asked.

 “Uh, M.E. says…” Penelope paused as she looked for the answer. “Yes, she did.”

 “All right, Garcia, check student enrollment for that year for students with campus handicap permits,” Hotch said to the woman on the phone.

 “I got a bushel of matches, let’s narrow this down.” 

 “Look for in-state residents. If the unsub was injured there’s a good chance he stayed close to home,” JJ said. 

 “Oh, they’re all locals,” Penelope responded. 

 “The parents would have covered it up, and they would have pulled their son out of school after the murder,” Emily explained. 

  “Eureka, Jeffery Collins,” Penelope said as she found a match. “He dropped out of school weeks after the murder and have since lived with his parents.”

 “What’s his story?” Y/N asked. 

 “Sending it to you right now, he’s an only child of Linda and Donald Collins. He was a local athlete who became paralyzed in a car accident when he was fifteen.”

 “It says here the mother was driving, but the injuries weren’t consistent with being behind the wheel,” Derek said while he looked up from he tablet. 

 “But the fathers were look-” Spencer pointed to a part of the report on the tablet that Y/N held in her hand- “Broken ribs, ruptured spleen, minor concussion.” 

 “He’s obviously the one who hit the steering wheel,” Y/N said in agreement.

 “Let me guess, the father was drunk,” Rossi said looking over to Y/N.

 “Yeah, twice the legal limit,” Penelope answered over the phone. 

 “Sounds like they switched places and she covered for him,” Y/N said. 

 “But helping your husband avoid a DUI is far different than helping your son dispose of bodies,” Spencer said as he looked between those around. 

 “Not necessarily,” Hotch countered. “The mother fixes things, she could have manipulated the husband into making up for his failure.” 

  “Garcia, you got an address?” Derek asked Penelope over the phone.

 “Sending it to you now,” she quickly responded. 

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

 “Hotchner,” Hotch said answering his phone. “Okay, we’ll be right there,” he hung up and turned the car around. 

 “What is it?” Y/N asked as she leaned forward in her seat to adjust her vest. 

 “Agent Brooks, they just found Donald Collins car wrapped around a telephone pole,” Hotch responded as they headed towards the accident, a mere two minutes from where they already were. The SUV came to a halt as they reached the accident and Hotch, Spencer, Emily, and Y/N piled out of the car. 

 “Hey guys thanks for getting here so quick,” Brooks said as she approached the four. 

 “We were on our way to the Collins home when we received the call,” Spencer said as they continued over to the car. 

 “Donald Collins was behind the wheel, died on impact. We found this in his coat pocket,” Brooks explained handing Emily the letter that was sealed in an evidence bag.

 “Let me guess, it’s his confession to all the murders,” Y/N said before she looked at the letter in Emily’s hand. 

 Agent Brooks nodded her head in response. 

 “Even in death, he’s still covering for his son,” Emily said showing Hotch and Spencer the letter. 

 “No one else in the car?” Hotch asked. 

 “No,” Brooks answered. 

 “No skid marks, he probably hit the pole going about 65 miles-per-hour,” Spencer said inspecting the asphalt behind the car. 

 “He committed suicide,” Y/N said while she shook her head in disbelief. 

 “It looks like he was trying to replicate the accident that made Jeff a paraplegic, this was his ultimate penance,” Emily said. 

 “Is this their endgame?” Hotch asked. 

  “If he was trying to replicate the accident, Jeff and Linda would have both been in the car,” Spencer answered, turning to the three on his right. 

 “So where are they?” Y/N asked. 

 “Probably still at the house, maybe even with their next victim,” Spencer said. 

-----------

  “Mom, Mom listen, I promise you the next time I am home I will try to come to visit you I swear-, Y/N said as she brought her mug and Spencer’s over to their seats on the jet.

 Spencer mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Y/N as she handed him the mug, which she responded back with a nod as she sat down in her seat.  

“No it’s not that I don’t think visiting you isn’t important. You know you’re starting to sound like grandma,” Y/N laughed as she looked at Spencer next to her and then Emily across. “All right will do, love you too, bye.” 

  It was the next day, the team had arrested Jeffery Collins and were now on their way back home. 

 “That sounded fun,” Emily said as she looked at Y/N. 

 “You have no idea,” Y/N laughed. “She told me if she doesn’t get to meet Spencer, or any of the rest of you guys really, sometime soon, she’s going to through a fit.” 

 The three laughed but they halted as they saw JJ walk up and sit down next to Emily, a look of defeat on her face.

 “Still no sitter?” Emily asked the blonde. 

 “My sitter is not available,” JJ explained. “Apparently I have a better chance at winning the lottery than getting a sitter for a Saturday night.”

 “What’s going on tonight?” Spencer asked. 

 “Ladies Night,” Y/N said as she looked over at Spencer next to her. His eyes trained on a book in his lap. 

 “It was but, I forgot to book a sitter,” JJ said.

 “I’ll do it,” Spencer said. 

 The three women turned their heads to look at him. All having the same questioning and unsure look on their faces.

 “Spence,” JJ said trying to protest. 

 “What? I’ve seen an episode of ‘Mr. Belvedere’,” Spencer said trying to prove he could do it.

 “I don’t know if that would help, bub,” Y/N said patting his arm sweetly. The nickname just slipping out but no one questioned it. 

  “And you’ve never babysat by yourself before,” JJ added.

  “You know- uh-  he could do a couple of hours,” Emily said looking between Y/N and JJ. 

 “What could possibly go wrong?” Spencer asked. 

 “Well now that you said that, something definitely will,” Y/N said, her superstitious side showing. 

 “Alright fine,” JJ caved.  

-  

 “Whooo!” Spencer cheered obnoxiously loud as they stood gate side of Hotch’s triathlon. “Couple hours, Couple hours! You guys didn’t even come home till sunrise,” he said looking at the four very hungover women. 

 Their eyes were covered with their sunglasses as they leaned against the gate, heads pounding from the cheers and alcohol. 

 “Why are yelling,” JJ said as she looked up then away from Spencer. 

 “Make him stop,” Emily said looking down to Y/N who stood beside Spencer. 

 “With pleasure,” Y/N said, getting up from her position of leaning against the gate to than grabbing Spencer’s face. “Spencer, I really don’t want to slap that pretty little face of yours I adore so much-” Spencer blushed at Y/N’s words- “but if you do not stop yelling I will.” 

 He nodded his head as she let go of his face and laid her head on his arm.  

 “Okay, hey Jack earmuffs for a minute, earmuffs,” Derek said tapping Hotch’s son that sat on his shoulders. “What did you guys drink last night?”

 “The green fairy, you’re in the FBI, can you make the crowd stop cheering?” Penelope pleaded to Derek next to her. 

 “By my estimates, Hotch will be finishing any minute now,” Spencer said looking at his watch, making Y/N lift her head as his arm moved. 

 “Do you see him, Uncle Dave?” Jack asked as he looked down at Rossi from Derek’s shoulders. 

 “I think I do kiddo, right there!” Rossi said as he pointed to Hotch running down the course. 

  Y/N clapped along with JJ and Emily and winced at Spencer’s loud cheering but let it slide since it was for Hotch. Hotch smiled as he saw the team cheering for him as he crossed the finish line. When he crossed, the team walked over to the table he was getting his water and medal from, Jack beating them all there as he was so excited to congratulate his dad. 

  “Did you see my sign?” Jack asked, jumping excitedly. 

 “I did, that’s for you, buddy,” Hotch said placing a medal around Jack’s next he was given.

 “Look at you, how do you feel?” Rossi asked. 

 “I think I’m gonna live,” responded Hotch as he took another sip of his water.

 “Pretty impressive, I had money on the swim killing you,” Emily laughed. 

 “My bet was the bike ride,” Y/N added, grabbing Spencer’s hand and then laying her head on his arm again. 

 “I practiced,” Hotch said still trying to regain his breath. 

 “And it paid off, good job,” Derek said congratulating Hotch.

 “Thank you.” 

 “Hey, you guys want to go get something to eat?” Spencer asked the team. 

 “Yeah, something greasy,” JJ said pushing her sunglasses up her nose.

 “Oh yeah,” Emily agreed. 

 “Please,” Y/N added. 

 “Hotchner!” A voice of a woman was heard making the team turn their heads. 

 “Beth! Jack, there’s somebody I want you to meet,” Hotch said guiding his son over to, the now identified, Beth. 

 “Awe,” Y/N said at the cute moment they were watching. 

 The team laughed at Y/N’s audible feelings and began to walk as they saw Hotch lead Beth and Jack towards their group. 

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

 Y/N and Spencer walked into Y/N’s apartment together after eating lunch with the rest of the team. Spencer came with her to grab some of the things he left from the other night staying there. 

 “I’m going to go to the bathroom real quick,” Y/N told Spencer who nodded back with a tight-lipped smile.

 After Spencer grabbed his things he placed them on the round table that was to the left of Y/N’s kitchen. His eyes became drawn to the white envelope with a wax seal with a bird imprint on it. Curiosity getting the better of him, he picked it up inspecting it. Before he could open it though, Y/N walked back into the room. 

 “What’cha lookin’ at?” She asked as she approached Spencer. 

 He turned around to face her, showing her the letter in his hand. Her face grew white with horror, she hadn’t received a letter in 3 weeks. 

 “Where- where was that?” She asked, walking over and grabbing it out of Spencer’s hand, beginning to open it frantically. 

 “On the table,” he responded pointing to where it laid on the table previously. 

 “Oh god,” Y/N said, knowing that meant she had gotten into her apartment somehow this time. 

 “Y/N, what’s wrong, what is it?” Spencer asked trying to get answers from her. 

 “Agh,” Y/N said softly as she cut herself on the paper from the envelope.  

 “Hey, hey, slow down,” Spencer told her, grabbing the envelope from her hand.

 “Will you please just open it and read to me what it says,” she said sitting in the chair she pulled out from the table, placing her head in her hands. 

 “Yeah-yeah, sure,” he responded opening the letter. “ ‘Nothing lasts forever Y/N’ from C.R., what is this, who’s C.R.?” 

 Y/N thought back to the dream she had a couple of nights ago before they left. 

 “Nothing lasts forever Y/N, you know that.” 

 The voice echoed in her head. She lifted her head up from her hands looking at Spencer who had kneeled himself in front of her. 

 “Caroline Roberts,” she told him. “Spencer I need to tell you something.” 

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added!!):

@throughparisallthroughrome​ @word-scribbless​ @nintendumbfuck​ @confused-and-really-hungry​ @justine-en​ @andiebeaword​ @itsarayofsunshine​ @baby-i-am-fireproof​ @abitofeverythinggg​

[beauvibaby]

motivation - f.andersen

“And.. he scores!” My face fell, and I tuned out the cheering from the jackets fans, my eyes focusing on Freddie and his boys as they slightly shook their heads. I chewed the tip of my thumb as I watched them skate off the ice, they were bound to be pissed, so close yet so far. Freddie caught a glimpse of me through the glass and his face was blank, normally even after a loss he can muster up some kind of smile, even for a split second, but this time it was nothing, not even a twitch.

I stood along side Stephanie in the wide hallway outside of the locker room, both of us looking up every time we heard movement. Of course, it was never who we wanted it to be, shockingly Auston was the first one out, walking straight over to his mom who was giving him that look. The one that says “don’t be too hard on yourself, mijo, you did good”, the type of look everyone here would be giving the team. Freddie always put on a tough exterior, but when we got home it could be a different story, he could get quite the attitude. “Awe, babe, you played amazing, alright?” Stephanie spoke wrapping her arms around Mitch’s neck as soon as she saw him. “Freddie.” I breathed out when he finally emerged, he gave me a quick hug and a peck to my forehead before I could say anything else. “Let’s just go.” He grumbled, I held back a sigh, knowing it was going to be a long night.

I gripped the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning a shade of white as we got stuck in this god awful snow filled traffic. I could see Freddie glance around me from the corner of my eyes, but I didn’t speak, as he hadn’t said anything else to me either yet, both of us wanting to get home. “Freddie?” I finally caved, seeing how the cars were at a nearly complete stand still. “What?” He snapped a little harsher than I think he intended, but he didn’t look away from his phone, god knows he was probably watching the tape, trying to figure out what he could’ve done better. “Don’t do that.” I sighed pointing to his phone, he clicked the screen off and put it in the cup holder, shooting me a look, “happy now.” He was acting childish. “You did great, okay? It was a long game, you still have another shot-“ “We shouldn’t need to still have another shot, Y/N! That’s the fucking problem, we should’ve already moved on to the next round.” He cut me off, his voice booming in the car. I rolled my eyes a little as I slowly inched along the road. The guys always set high expectations for themselves, and when they didn’t meet them, they got furious. “Baby, it’s best of five, you can still do this. That’s what you need to focus on.” I explained calmly, he didn’t look at me, only continued looking out the window, cringing when I nearly slid in the ice. “Do you want me to drive?” He asked, annoyance dripping from his tone. I bit my lip for a moment, “no, you’re acting like a child, so I don’t want you to drive like one.” I finally snapped back at him. I could see him analyzing the side of my face, something he does when he knows he’s upset me, “I didn’t-“ “Just wait until we get home, please, I don’t want to have an accident.” I cut him off, my knuckles once again turning white on the steering wheel.

I fiddled with the ring on my left hand as we stood in silence riding up the elevator, I could feel his eyes on me, he grabbed my hand, keeping me from messing with the ring, he always freaked out when I did that, thinking I would be having second thoughts on our engagement. I glanced up at him but he was looking straight ahead, still with that pissed off tension in his jaw. I sighed as the doors opened, walking out first, pulling him along. He unlocked the door for me, holding it open, he was silently trying to apologize for being snappy towards me. “I didn’t mean to be rude to you, you know that.” He spoke, and I nodded, stepping inside, kicking my shoes off as he shut the door. “Freddie, I understand that you’re going to be upset about losing a game, alright? It’s totally acceptable, but you go into this head space that’s not even healthy, you all played great, you saved so many shots tonight, I wish you could see that.” I explained, he watched me with hard eyes, nodding even if he didn’t want to admit it. “But, at the end of the night, I still let four shots in.” He pointed out and I sighed for what felt like the hundredth time tonight, I nodded silently, walking away from him and towards our bedroom, I could hear him padding along behind me. “That’s why I’m pissed.” He grumbled, disappearing into the bathroom, I watched him shut the door, harder than normal, I heard the shower turn on, I sat on the edge of the bed, hunched over. Thoughts running through my mind, once I heard him get in the shower, I stood to my feet and walked over to the dresser, digging out the gift I had been hiding from him, I was planning on waiting until after the first round of playoffs, but he needs a good pick me up now. I took the small white gift bag, peeking inside to triple check everything was in there. A baby sized Andersen jersey, and a onesie that said “a true fan begins in diapers” with the maple leaf logo beside it. I placed the bag on his pillow, leaving the room once I changed into my pajamas, I glanced back as I heard the shower shut off, suddenly feeling nervous. What if he wasn’t happy, what if he didn’t want this now, what if- “y/n?” He called and I immediately walked back into the room, he was standing in front of the bathroom door, hair still dripping, and sweatpants hanging low on his hips. I hadn’t realized my eyes were welled up until his face softened, “baby, are you crying?” He whispered, rushing over to me. I shook my head, wiping the water from my eyes before he could, “I didn’t mean to be-“ “No, no, it’s not that, well not entirely that.” I cut him off, laughing softly when his wet hair dripped onto my night shirt. “Fuck the game, you’re right, we’ve still got a shot, now what’s wrong?” He asked, concern covering his face. I smiled and simply pulled him in for a kiss, he didn’t complain, holding me steady by my hips as I had to stand on my tippy toes. “I love you.” I murmured once I leaned back, “I love you, now you’re scaring me.” He responded, I finally took a shaky breath and pointed to the gift on the bed. He glanced back and furrowed his eyebrows, “you got me a gift for losing?” He teased, pulling me along with him to the bed.

“It’s not because you lost, I think it’s much more of a win actually.” I told him, he dramatically sat down on the bed, I shrieked in surprise when he pulled me down with him, arms wrapped around my stomach, but not tightly. He kissed the top of my shoulder through my shirt as he grabbed the bag, opening it slowly with me half on his lap, half on the bed, I draped my legs across his as I wrapped an arm around his shoulders to keep me upright. He gave me one last look before finally diving his hand into the bag, he grabbed both items at once, and pulled them out, frowning as they were wrapped in more tissue paper. “My god, are you sure you even want me to open this?” He teased, ripping it open, just as he did so, “well, there’s kind of a due date for it so.” I mumbled watching as his face lit up as he held up the onesie, I had really hoped it would be the jersey he saw first. “Y/N, are you serious?!” He asked, scanning my face for any kind of joking look. “Why would I joke about having a baby?” I quipped, laughing when he pulled me in for a hug, “oh my god, this, this is amazing, why didn’t you tell me sooner? How far along are you? I have so many questions.” He rushed, stopping just long enough to pull me in for a kiss. I couldn’t help but grin against him, “I was going to tell you after you guys get in to the next round,” I paused making sure he understood my words, he gave me a lopsided smile, pure excitement dancing in his eyes. “But, I figured you could use some extra motivation now, I’m nearly ten weeks, I only found out about a week ago, I had an appointment while you were at practice.” I shimmied off of his lap as he processed my words, “open the other one, I’m going to grab my phone!” I called as I rushed down the hallway, having a recording of the heartbeat and a sonogram picture in my purse.

When I walked back into the room I stopped as I saw him leaned over the small jersey in his hand, I snapped a picture for myself so I could never forget this moment, not that I would. He glanced up when he heard my feet, and then I saw the single tear fall from his eyes, which just made me emotional all over again. “C’mere.” He muttered, sliding to the edge of the bed, I stood in front of him as he rested the top of his head on my chest, arms wrapped around my back. I played with his still slightly dampened hair, letting a tearful smile out when he ducked his head down for a moment, a delicate kiss being placed to my stomach through the fabric of my shirt. “Look.” I whispered handing him the single scan picture, it was hard to tell exactly what you were looking at, but I had the tech put an arrow on it, “baby Andersen!” Alongside it. I pulled the clip up on my phone, turning the volume all the way up, he took my phone and gasped when he heard the thumping come across, he smiled up at me when he heard me whisper an oh my god in the video. “I wish I had been there.” He mumbled once the sound ended, and I frowned. “Me too, baby I promise I didn’t know they were going to do all that, I didn’t even think I really could be pregnant.” I explained, cupping his jaw so he met my eyes, “it’s alright, I know.” He shushed me, it’s something we talked about quite frequently, especially after the engagement, when I was younger doctors always told me I’d have a hard time getting pregnant, but here I am.

“When can I tell the boys?” He asked after we had finally been laying in bed for a while, I laughed against his chest, “wait a couple weeks, yeah? Until we hit the safer zone.” I explained. He sighed but understood, “alright.”

*** bonus, telling the guys went like this***

They had finally made it into the next round of playoffs and were having a get together at our place to celebrate, we nearly always hosted so it wasn’t odd to anyone when we offered. Everyone but me had a drink or two in them when Freddie wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. “Ready?” He asked, kissing me quickly when I turned to look at him. “Ready.” I confirmed.

“Hey!” He called out, everyone silencing relatively quickly, I looked around the room, Auston, Mitch and Will beijg towards the front, which was perfect as I was the most excited for their responses. “Y/N and I have something we want to say.” He spoke up, Stephanie appeared beside Mitch, resting comfortably under his arm, I smiled at her and a knowing look cane across her face. “Oh my god!” She shrieked rushing over to me, the guys confused as Freddie and I laughed, “easy killer.” I joked when she nearly knocked me over in a hug. “Shit, ok I’m sorry go ahead say it.” She clapped her hands together stepping aside, Mitch shot her a confused look. “We’re having a baby!” I cheered and everyone gasped, Auston choked on his drink, “what?!” He spoke first after his coughing fit. Will and Mitch shared a look, “I called it, pay up!” Mitch demanded, Will grumbled and pulled out two twenties placing it in Mitch’s hand as Stephanie went back over to him. “Your man over here has had a pep in his step we couldn’t quite place.” Will pointed out as we both stared at them in shock, “Freddie!” I complained, whacking the back of his arm as congratulations started pouring out around us. I smiled as Auston came over and gave me a hug, doing the same to Freddie, the rest of the guys following suit.

“Baby Andersen, coming soon!” I attached a picture of Freddie and I holding the baby jersey and posted it on Instagram before settling in for the night, relishing in the fact that this was really happening.

Tag list: @literarycharleton​

[aelin-queen-of-terrasen]

You used to bully/mess with me in elementary school and it turned out it was because you had a major crush on me AU for jurdan? I hope its not too "basic" for them

note: In spirit of being cooped up inside my house, I present to you a lockdown fic. 😂 this is totally not what you asked for but hope you'll like it anyway!

Full Masterlist

Quarantine Times

These days, there was little Cardan hated more than online classes.

It was hard enough to focus on the professor's words when there was no one to keep him in line without the added temptation of staring at Jude's screen while she paid attention, her brows drawn together in concentration as her lips pressed in a thin line. He had the face memorised now from how often he stared at her during class or in the cafeteria while she talked to her friends or in the library where she'd read for hours, lost in her own world.

Even at the ass crack of dawn, she looked beautiful. Her face had that concentrated look when she focused on something. Her auburn hair were braided neatly to the side of her head, her dark, half asleep eyes staring at the screen with an intensity as though she was willing the whole screen to explode into pieces. She bit her lip, tucking a strand of her hair back—

"Zoom classes are for studying, not so you can stare at your crush," Dain said, looking up from his phone.

Cardan gave him a hard look but it did nothing to wipe the shit-eating grin from his elder brother's face. He said through gritted teeth and barely restrained temper, "Jude isn't my crush."

His brother looked amused. "Do I look like a fool to you, brother?"

He did. He very much did look like a fool with that smarmy grin and the knowing look Dain sent him. Cardan told him as much but it only made Dain grin wider than before. He patted his little brother on the shoulder. "It's okay to admit you like her, brother. She's smart and pretty, even you can admit that, rivals and all."

But they weren't rivals anymore. They had been once—all through middle school—but there was no fight or bitter feelings on his side, at least. Not since Cardan went and gods-damned crushed on his enemy somewhere between all the unresolved arguements and hurled insults and attempted sabotages and the many, many pranks. She snuck up on his heart that way. He didn't notice she had coiled herself around his head so deep until she was all he thought about. As far as he was concerned, the rivalry between them was resolved.

"But you aren't," Cardan said, pouting at the idea of his brother liking Jude. "Leave me alone, Dain."

Dain grinned again, cooing at him. "Aw, look at you being jealous, brother. Don't—" his words were cut off by the pillow Cardan threw at his brother's face. The other got him in the stomach but he was still laughing, zoom meeting forgotten as he ran around the room, trying to dodge and weave around the pillows and cushions Cardan aimed at him, making a mess of the room in the process.

"I'm leaving, I'm leaving," Dain surrendered, running out of the room.

Cardan once again focused on the screen, watching her write whatever it was. His own video was turned off right now and as if his thoughts had directed their teacher's attention towards the fact, the man said, "Cardan Greenbriar, open your video. And keep it open." Cardan watched Jude look up at the screen when she heard his name. Her brown eyes looked prettier when they stared through him (even though she wasn't looking at him but at her screen, it sure did feel like it) and the tense shoulders were drooped now, Jude looking more relaxed than ever.

He didn't realize what she was frowning at until he noticed he had turned screen sharing on instead of video.

Which meant everyone could see the wallpaper in his phone, a photo of Jude at a recent bonfire party where he'd apologized for years worth of pranks and she refused to believe him, convinced that it was some trick. Colour rose to her cheeks and his own ears pounded with warmth as he fumbled with the features on his phone, turning screen sharing off. The damage was done, Jude was looking at her screen with colour rising on her cheeks before she left the meeting.

Nicasia was hiding her smile behind her hand, Locke looked pissed off and Taryn had a surprised, lost look on her face.

Cheeks burning with embarassment, he ignored the looks his friends gave him as he stared straight ahead. Most looked positively scandalised, as if they'd just seen the earth turn upside down or something. He didn't know how he endured through the class but he buried his face in the pillows, groaning loudly in shame.

His phone buzzed, an unknown number flashing across his screen. "Hello?"

"You have me as your wallpaper," Jude said, her voice amused. There would be no mincing words then.

Trying to save face one last time, Cardan reasoned, "Yeah, uh, it was more for the sake of the scenery in the background." He realized his mistake when he saw that the scenery he was talking about was a brick wall that Jude leaned against, laughing as she held a can of beer in her hand while the other rested on her thigh.

Jude said in a teasing tone, "Ah, yes, the background. Beautiful."

He had never known Jude to act like this—this bold and confident and teasing. She always shied away from the simplest of flirting. Perhaps she was more comfortable over the phone? He couldn't fathom another reason why she'd be so willing to talk to him now. He was mortified still.

"I can change it though, I'm about to—I mean, if that makes you uncomfortable. Not that I care what you think," then cursed himself for falling into old habits of insults when he got flustered. "I mean I do care what you think—because you're my friend, of course. Like, we're not friends yet, I know, I know. But I'd like to be. I don't want to make assumptions on who we are. I mean, we hated each other but I don't hate you now. I like you. Like, gods, I don't like you but—"

"Cardan, breathe," her calm voice instructed from the other side. Jude said, "Is that the only reason I'm your wallpaper, Cardan? The background?"

There was no way she believed his lame ass excuse about his background. Jude was too smart for all that, and she had an ability of spotting all his tells from childhood. He instead changed topics in favour of outright lying, "Darling Jude, I've never known you for being bold."

She huffed. "You callin' me a wuss?"

Now that his mortification had somewhat subsided, he heard the slur in her voice. "Jude, are you drunk? At nine in the morning?"

"I saw the wallpaper and panicked. Vivi said I needed alcohol, we broke into Madoc's wine cellar." Laughter escaped her lips.

"Jude, darling," Cardan said, deciding to shoot his shot now, hoping Jude was not the kind of drunk who would forget everything when she was sober again. "Fine. I have you on my wallpaper because I like looking at you. You—You're cute and I, kind of, sort of like you. Like, for a while." If she remembered this later, he'd finally have confessed. If she didn't, then it was his own bad luck. He just had to say it once.

There was a long pause on the other side, followed by a shushing sound. "Don't tell Cardan but I kind of, sort of like him too."

Cardan couldn't stop his answering smile if he tried. "I won't, promise."

──────✧❅✦❅✧──────

tags:

@judexcardanxgreenbriar // @thesirenwashere // @nite0wl29 // @queenofgreenbriar // @jurdanhell // @mysweetvilllain //@clockworkgraystairs // @blog-lady-vi // @the-dark-swan //@storiesandschemes // @fangirltrash74 // @augustintodarkness // @queen-of-glass // @jurdan7 // @aesthetics-11 // @mijaldraws // @hades-flame // @sensitivehighlord // @annejulianneh111 // @b00kworm // @mysweetvillain // @doingmyrainbow // @curlyredqueen06 // @chaotic-fae-queen // @thewickedkings // @thesurielships //@df3ndyr // @clouds-and-peonies // @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln

let me know if you'd like to be tagged. also, if you like this, do share your thoughts! there's little that delights a writer more than validation.

[sweetpxsin]

Stray kids: When you tell them to take off their hoodie

group.skz

rated.f

♡ bang chan 

you had seen the tiktok while waiting for Chan and had decided to try it

Now Chan’s a smart boi so you were gonna have to hide your phone 

And when the deed was done you innocently walked up to him

Naturally he looked at you,  and took  his hands off his mouse and keyboard to hold your hands

“What’s up baby girl?”

“Take off your hoodie.”

To say the least, it was very difficult to suppress your laugh as his eyes widened in panic for a second as he laughed out a shaky “what.”

Though he complied and  took it off anyways, as he stared at you with contemplation, swallowing dryly in the process 

Once the fabric was in your hands, you flashed him an innocent smile, leaned forward and kissed his cheek quickly, before spinning on your heel and turning away

When you checked over your shoulder you could no longer stop the laughter, as innocently disappointed eyes stared back at you

So to make up for it you agreed to sit on his lap and cuddle him till he finished his work

♡ kim woojin 

honestly when you watched the tiktok you thought it’d be a cute or funny thing to do

So you didn’t really bother to hide your phone when you set it up, plus Woojin wasn’t even paying too much attention when you did it

Though you did manage to get him to put his phone down by simply walking up to him 

And today you could guess Woojin was feeling super affectionate cuz when you came up to him, he wrapped his arms around your waist almost immediately 

It took you by surprise and you almost forgot what you were doing, till you felt the soft fabric of his hoodie

With some hesitation you managed to say “take off your hoodie”

You were kinda surprised with how easily he complied and handed it to you with expecting eyes

And for some reason you lost it when he said “so are you gonna wear it or let my tiddies freeze” 

And somewhere along your laughing fit you leaned even more into him, and eventually kissed him muttering something about how such a cute dummy he is 

♡ lee minho 

as SOON as you saw the tiktok you just had to try it

You knew how much of a flirt Minho could be sometimes but you were  really curious about how he would handle it

So after some contemplation on where to hide your phone, you decide to just be blunt about it and have it blatantly facing the both of you

Knowing Minho was used to your shenanigans and wouldn’t bother to look at your phone

 He didn’t even bother to glance up at you as you stood in front of his sitting form

That is till you confidently told him “take off your hoodie.”

You could already see the sly outline of a smirk that began to play on his lips

And you had to bite your own bottom lip to prevent yourself from laughing

Once he had placed his hoodie in your awaiting hands you, had turned to start walking away

Though you didn’t get very far until arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you on top of Minho

“You wrong for doing that babe”

His tone was playful, as he squeezed you in one tight hug and kissed your temple, taking no offense to the prank

Matter of fact he was quite satisfied with the reaction he got from you and the numerous “she/he got some after dis” comments that filled the post

♡ seo changbin 

honestly you had just wanted to try it out for fun

You had heard your other friends try it and the hilarious/cute reactions they had gotten out of it

So you decided one day while you were chilling with Changbin to try it 

You had set up your phone earlier but had lied to him that you would be making stupid tiktoks with him

To which he complied to as long as he was able to sit on the edge of the bed and simply be in shot

After a few short tiktok dances with Changbin staring at you with only heart eyes and smiles you decided to pull the prank 

Turning on the 3 second timer you ran back to Changbin, smiled at him shyly and told him to take off his sweater

Surprisingly he had complied without a complaint or question

And you guessed he was too far off in la la love land because he just stared at the camera half expecting you to do another one of those stupid dance trends 

Though a few short seconds afterwards it clicked in his head what happened as his eyes met your disappointed face on the screen

And he couldn’t stop the small giggles that left his lips as he pulled you closer by your waist urging you to put the hoodie on hoping it would brighten your mood 

In the end he was willing to put up a show for the tiktok and offered cuddles to make up for his lack of reaction 

♡ hwang hyunjin 

oh boy, you saw the tiktok once and just HAD to do it

you weren’t expecting a crazy reaction from him but something was just telling you it was going to be funny

So after you had placed your phone somewhere you skipped your way to your lovely boyfriend

He had already knew you were making a tiktok and was staring at the phone screen to watch whatever you were gonna do in anticipation

Though when it started recording and you hadn’t moved he looked back you curiously

And that’s when you had told him to take off his sweater, which surprisingly he didn’t even hesitate, like you’ve asked him for his hoodie a million times before

But it’s not like you had much time to even be surprised about that because your jaw had already dropped at the sight of your boyfriend’s naked torso

And suddenly you were a laughing mess all over him while he looked at you and your phone in confusion 

Honestly you were laughing from pure shock and how cute he looked confused as hell 

After you were done laughing you gave his pouty lips and quick kiss before helping him place his hoodie back on, while explaining what you were trying to do

♡ han jisung 

god the second you saw the tiktok you were already up on your feet walking to Jisung

Not thatt you’d show him it beforehand but to shamelessly set up your phone and walk up to him 

Knowing Jisung was already goofy you didn’t spend much time thinking about it anyways since he would probably just think you were up to some random crackheadery and join you anyways  

And you were right almost  immediately as he spotted your phone he smiled and waited for you to do something, ready to join you

And you swore you had to hold your breath when you saw how fast he whipped his head back to look at you when you told him to take off his hoodie 

Along with how lighting fast he took it off, you almost felt bad for getting him excited

But that didn’t stop you from slowly walking away as soon as the fabric was placed in your hands, turning your head back at him, only to stare at disappointed brown puppy eyes

And at that point you couldn’t stop from breaking into a fit of giggles as you ran back to him apologizing and peppering his face with kisses

Later though you do find out he was disappointed because he just loved seeing you in his sweaters it makes his heart uwu 

♡ lee felix

you were with Felix when you saw the tiktok and thankfully for you he hadn’t seen you watch it

But for safety measure you waited it out for a little longer just incase he did see a bit of it 

you even hid your phone knowing Felix was quite the sneaky type and would notice you were up to no good 

And when you walked back to his laying form on the bed you tried to act as natural as possible 

Which worked in your favor because Felix hadn’t suddenly looked at you but rather sat up to pull you close to him

Happy with how well things were going you decide to put on  a little show and slowly ran your hands on his shoulders

And immediately your heart jumped with how into he seemed because he was looking at you with a sly smile and all that

You decided then would be a good time to ask and honestly you almost forgot what you were doing while you watched him slowly take off his hoodie 

You were so distracted that you only remember what you were doing and what was happening when he placed the piece of clothing into your hands

And when your eyes refocused on him you literally could not stop your jaw from dropping

Because guess what your boyfriend’s a sneaky motherfucker and had caught you watching the tiktok and had decided to wear two hoodies 

And boy did he have a laugh when he saw your face, he was laughing so much you kind of questioned whether or not he was even breathing

But to make it up to you, in his laughing fit of glory he did cup your cheeks and kiss you multiple times till your pout turned into a smile

All while murmuring how cute and stupid you were to ever try to challenge the prank master

♡ kim seungmin

you really debated on whether or not if it was even worth trying to pull

Cause you see it’s not that fun when your boyfriend is smart and  100% done with yours and his hyungs bs 

But you still tried to anyways because curiosity has yet to harm you 

When you set up your phone you made it a point to hide it well 

So much to the point you even made sure Seungmin wasn’t in the room when you did it

And to make things even less suspicious, you waited for him to walk into the room before you casually approached him and  started a conversation 

You were having a difficult time trying to figure out when to drop the question to the point you began to fiddle with Seungmin’s fingers since you were already holding his hand

And when he curiously looked at you, the words kind of just feel from your lips

Like so blatantly you swore you never seen confusion turn into a cute and angelic smile so fast

And when he asked if you were cold and he also told you not to be nervous to ask for his hoodie your heart melted at his sweetness

To the point you actually felt bad for expecting a lame reaction from Seungmin and told him the real reason why you asked him to take his sweater off

And that’s when he deadpanned and called you dummy but he couldn’t stay mad for long cause damn you just looked so cute in his hoodie 

♡ yang jeongin

you saw the tiktok and had to admit Jeongin was wayyy too innocent and sweet 

But you knew he would have understood and given you a dirty disapproving look

Though that did not stop you from wanting to try it hoping it would elicit a somewhat cute reaction 

So you set everything up and even told Jeongin to sit on the couch because you wanted to try something 

And at first he thought it was something dumb that one of his hyungs had convinced you to do so he was a bit hesitant

But he complied anyways and watched you with vigilant eyes making sure there was no trickery happening right beneath his nose

Though he let his guard down a little when you came up to him and saw nothing in your  hands 

Biggest mistake of his life because as soon as you stood in front of him nothing stopped you from bluntly telling him to take off his hoodie

And you swore you’ve never saw panic and overwhelming shyness mix so well in a person's facial features till now

But even though his face was dusted a rosy pink, he clumsy fumbled with the fabric of his hoodie till it was in your hands

To be honest you thought his reaction was adorable and you almost wanted to stop and just cuddle him

But you continued on and began to take a few steps away till you looked back at him to see his reaction

And honestly you could not stop your heart from melting and walking you back to him, looking like a poor puppy dog left by its owner

When you hugged him and asked him what was wrong, you literally could NOT stop yourself from cuddling into the boy as he explained how cute he thought you looked when you wore his sweaters and loved seeing you with sweater paws

And then seeing his disapproving eyes when he had managed to pry the real reason for the prank

[4lix]

hello, i’m so happy you’re making a comeback. since you’re in the mood to write abt chan, may i request a best friends to lovers trope?

friends to lovers ★ bang chan ↳ gender-neutral. fluff.

okay so falling in love with ur best friend is a big L but its one u are more than willing to take for christopher bang

first things first, chan loves people with his whole mf heart.

whether its family, friends, or romantic interests

so when it comes down to him falling for his best friend? idk if he’d really realize it unless someone literally spelled it out for him, he’d just mistake his affection towards you as just the same kind of best friend love he has for ˙his group members

he’d never think much about the fact that most of his song lyrics these days were getting oddly too specific in detail about a certain someone

or how whenever he felt down his gut reaction was to call you up because the sound of your voice seemed to make everything better

or how he really really likes cuddling with you after long days of practice

and when you stop by the studio when he’s stuck on a track and just pull him to the couch to lay down for a while to get a break from staring at that damned screen, he’d instantly relax in your hold, sighing in content as your fingers twirled around his curls

and yeah his stomach is filled with butterflies and his ears are all red all that corny stuff but you’re his best friend and best friends cuddle sometimes too right?

best friends also feel the urge to kiss one another on the cheeks? perhaps sometimes they fantasize about what it would be like to kiss each other on the lips?

ok maybe not.

chan knew some of his thoughts were a bit odd. but you were really pretty so it was understandable. you were his safe place and the closest thing he had to home besides his members.

unbeknownst to him, you were honestly no better, a bit more aware of the fact that you could possibly be in love with the idiot but you were still in denial nonethless

whenever felix or hyunjin would tease you about your relationship with chan you’d feign disgust like he’s my best friend that’s weird! but your cheeks are red anyways and you’re kind of stuttering and hey is it hot in here or what-

when you had tough days chan would spam you with encouraging texts, a million obnoxious emojis, memes, just anything to make you smile and it always always worked, just the sight of a notification from chan always made you light up but that’s what best friends are for right?  

friends make the world seem brighter, that’s all chan was to you, a friend.

and chan cared a lot about his friends, so it only made sense..

but unlike his other friends, you always got special treatment

he’d give you gifts for your friendship anniversary despite all the suggestive looks from his group members, kissed your forehead when bidding you goodbye and always sent you good morning and good night texts each and every single day

he’d go out of his way for you always and all of that just seemed normal, natural to him. because he loves with his whole heart and he doesn’t even realize it

he wouldn’t really come to terms with things until one of the members like screams at him to just stfu already because he won’t stop talking about you and he somehow makes everything about you and it’s driving them insane

they’d be like we get it you’re in love with y/n shut up already

and he’d just be a stuttering mess like !! no im not !! and yet his heart is racing in his chest and everyone looks at him with an unamused glare

changbin would be like “everything you’ve written these last few weeks are all about them-”

felix would chime in like “you killed your phone battery texting them all day and then used my phone to call them so you could talk for three hours straight.”

jisung is like “yeah and you bought like ten different gifts for your friendship  anniversary but you gave me a set of socks for my birthday-”

huh wait maybe he is in love with you.

“those socks were knitted and really nice.” would be his only line of defense

the rest of the afternoon the members would just tease him about all his lovesick puppy habits that he was completely unaware of

like how his face lights up the moment you walk into the room

or how he can never go shopping without picking up something for you because hey y/n would look really cute in this!

and that he even mumbles your name sometimes when he’s sleeping lord help the boy

things kind of go to hell because now he can’t look at you without blushing and stuttering

he’s panicking because how the hell could he have fallen in love with his best friend who probably only sees him as a brother? if you liked him back surely you would’ve let him know by now, i mean if he was as obvious as his members said he was with his feelings there’s no way you weren’t aware of his infatuation with you.

but you were on the same boat really, to you, it seemed as though chan was affectionate with everyone, he smooched jeongin’s cheeks every now and then, and the socks he got for jisung’s birthday were kind of nice? you weren’t that special right? there’s no way chan could fall in love with someone like you anyways... right?

you knew him better than you knew yourself so his odd behaviour definitely did not go unnoticed even tho your sheer lack of brain cells prevented you from realizing why he was acting odd in the first place

the good morning and good night texts stopped, the spams of memes stopped, it was just radio silence for a few days and it was starting to freak you out but it was close to the deadline for the new album so he could just be stressed and you could just be overreacting

you figured you’d stop by the studio at like ass o’clock like always with some takeout for chan because you knew he never ate much when he pulled all nighters, you even threw in some of his favorite snacks and energy drinks, bringing your laptop with you to get some work done of your own hopefully

you did your signature knock on the door before entering but chan still jumped at the sight of you, weirdly startled by your presence, avoiding your eyes and only managing to cough and give you a tilt of a nod in greeting before gluing his eyes back to his computer screen

your first initial reaction is did i do something wrong :( and you intend to ask chan about it but he puts his headphones in and seems rather busy, you remind yourself again that he’s just focused on the new album he’d never purposefully ignore you.

you’ll ask him later, taking a seat on the couch, scrolling through social media mindlessly as your thoughts can’t seem to drift away from the boy across from you and how fluffy and soft his hair looks today.

after a good fifteen minutes pass, chan still hasn’t touched the food you brought which leaves you no choice but to annoy him to ensure he takes proper care of himself. calling his name multiple times to no avail, you tap the space bar, pausing the track before removing his headphones.

“channie, you can ignore me if you want to but i won’t let you ignore getting your vitamins and nutrients. i know you didn’t eat dinner. so eat.” he’s still not looking at you, just nods, clearing his throat awkwardly before turning over towards the takeout you brought for him and taking a seat at the couch.

you follow behind him, sitting right beside him. just a week ago you were here with chan laying on your chest, watching tiktoks of cats but now here you were, in the same spot but this time chan was silent, closed off. the complete opposite to his usual warm and bubbly demeanor.

he didn’t even bother to deny the fact that he was ignoring you, he just ate silently and fear starts to consume you because maybe chan really was upset with you?

before you figured he was probably just stressed and overly focused on the track he was working on but now it seems obvious he’s blatantly ignoring you, not even sparing a thank you for the takeout which was really unlike him. he always thanked you for taking care of him with tight hugs and sloppy kisses on your forehead. now he didn’t even look at you.

half of you was agitated that he was giving you the silent treatment instead of just being honest with you about whatever was bothering him but the other half of you really wanted to smooch his chubby cheeks filled with rice because wow he looked really really cute.

as annoyed with him as you were, you couldn’t help but appreciate his bareface, it was you favorite look of all, when he didn’t look like a famous idol, instead just a regular boy with blemishes and unruly hair in grey sweats and a hoodie.

a grain of rice hugged the corner of his lip, you fought back the urge to kiss it away. he was so unfairly attractive it made you want to punch him

you lean forward, reaching out to him to wipe the stray food away but he evades your touch, leaving your hand raised awkwardly out in front of you in rejection. now he didn’t even want you to touch him?

“did i do something wrong?” you didn’t realize how hurt you were by his silence, by his disgust of you, how he felt like a stranger these days. you kicked yourself inwardly for sounding so broken but the tone of voice seemed to strike something in chan because he finally met eyes with you for the first time in what felt like forever.

“w-what no not at a-all what makes you think that?”

“chan you’ve ignored all my texts for the last three days. you haven’t talked to me in nearly a week and now you can’t even spare a hello when i come in? you’re even avoiding my touch like i have the plague or something.” guilt washes over him immediately and he puts down the plate of food and looks at you with those brown eyes that are all sad and regretful and you forgive him before he even opens his mouth because you’re just that helplessly in love with the idiot

“i-i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to, really, i just have a lot on my mind right now and i just...” he turns to look away again but you place your hand to his chin, turning him forward to meet eyes with you again, he doesn’t shy away from your touch this time

“chan if i said something or did something wrong that bothered you, y’know you can always talk to me right?” you said earnestly, cupping his cheek in your hand, he leaned into your touch, humming gently. relief enraptured your heart, along with warmth

“you didn’t do anything wrong, i promise.” his eyes don’t leave yours, nor does his voice waver, so you believe him

“then why are you ignoring me?”

“because...” he tries to get the words out but his brain is going a mile a minute and you’re really close to him. you’re turned to face him, sitting criss crossed, knees bumping against his, he can feel your body warmth and it’s kind of sending him into overdrive

“because?” you urge him further, unable to help your lips from curling downwards in worry. he’s silent still, biting his bottom lip anxiously and you consider giving up for a moment but then he pulls your hand away from his cheek, instead holding it tight in his.

“i realized something. the guys, they made me realize some things.” he starts, eyes flittering past each and every single one of your features, admiring them silently to himself. how did it take him so long to realize he was in love with you? you were beautiful, his best friend, his whole heart, his muse.

earlier, his eyes were glued to the screen because he was rereading the words he’s written over the last few weeks and he couldn’t quite believe he wrote lyrics that were literally entirely about you and he had no idea, just assumed he had some new rush of creativity or something.

of course he was in love with you, he always been in love with you.

“yeah?” you rub your thumb over his hand slowly in an attempt to ease some of his anxieties. whatever it was he needed to tell you, it was clearly taking a toll on him, he was fidgeting, sighing over in over again and shaking his head trying to clear his thoughts. you felt a bit bad, perhaps you were prying too much?

“look i just–– i know we’re best friends, and the last thing i want to do is jeopardize that so if what im about to say makes you uncomfortable or something j-just forget it ever happened okay?” unknowingly, you hold in you breath, fear for his next words knocking the wind out of you.

“i... i like you. like like you, and- i don’t know how to deal with it so i’ve just been avoiding you and i’m sorry- wait why are you laughing?” his eyebrows are all furrowed and his cheeks are bright red and he’s squeezing your hand in confusion and you just look at him and just die of laughter

why were you laughing? you weren’t sure. maybe it was relief? joy? just pure utter love for the idiot in front of you?

“channie-” you attempt, but your laughter still has control over your lungs so you just cling to the boy helplessly, looking up at him with so much happiness in your eyes that he can’t help but feel a bit hopeful that maybe this laughter is good laughter?

“why are you laughing! i just confessed to you, put my heart out on the line and your response is laughter?” he’s smiling despite the confused tone of his voice, nudging you playfully but you pull him into you, shoving your face in the crook of his neck trying your hardest to get out the last of your giggles. with one last deep sigh, you prepare yourself to finally give him a proper response

“i’m sorry for laughing channie i’m just really happy. and relieved.” you finally pull away from him, resting your forehead against his, cupping his face once again in your hands.

“i like you too chan, i’ve liked you for a really really long time.”

the smile that lights up his face is one you’ll never forget, his eyes practically disappear, his dimples protruding through those precious cheeks of his and you can’t help the small laugh in happiness at the sight

“thank god i was actually losing my mind you know, changbin and jisung have been making fun of me all week, clowning me for being a lovesick puppy.”

“is that why they’ve been wiggling their eyebrows whenever i walk by-”

“unfortunately yes.”

“chan you should’ve just told me!”

“yeah well! i thought you saw me as like a brother or something!”

“what- no! i’ve literally been in love with you since the moment we met you idiot-”

“yeah well i’ve been writing songs about you for the last month, songs that you helped with and you didn’t notice a thing-”

at that you just :O bc realization hits u like a train n yea wait a minute he was pretty obvious..

he just gets all red again and then you smile at him and he’s smiling back at you and with the dopiest grin on his face he’s like

“can i kiss u..” and u dont bother to reply you just grab his cheeks and connect your lips with his

the kiss is kind of a mess tho bc you’re both just so ridiculously happy that you can’t stop smiling so yea its not a proper kiss but its filled with giggles and each time you pull away chan only leans forward to peck you again and again because he cant seem to get enough really and he’s just so elated that he can finally do this as many times as he wants

in conclusion chan loml<3 

requests are open! :) ↳ notes: tysm for all the kind welcome back msgs ily all sm omg <3  i ended up combining two requests as they were a bit similar i hope thats okay hehe <3 also sry if this is sloppy this is my first post in a long time & im kind of rusty .. whew

[iridescentjin]

Dearly Beloved

Summary: Your friend from high school, Taehyung, helps you out when you need a wedding date.

Genre: SMUT and a little bit of fluff

Warnings: Masturbation, swearing, recreational alcohol use, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex (plz use protection irl), spanking, some biting, dom!Taehyung, brat!reader

a/n: sorry Triv. sorry mom. If digital headstones are a thing by the time I die, please put this gif on mine. I listened to “Earned It” by The Weeknd the whole time I wrote all the nasty stuff.

Word Count: 6473

Your best friend is sweet and kind. She is the most generous person that you’ve ever met, and she can make you laugh harder than anyone on this planet. She has cradled you in her arms as you cried over boys, and, when your dad nearly died of cancer, she was there with you in the hospital every day, coffee in hand, ready to listen or just sit with you.

You take a deep breath through your nose and remind yourself of all of this. You love her more than pretty much anyone on this planet, but in this moment you have never wanted to slap her so much in the whole time you’ve known her.

She has been planning and preparing for her wedding for over a year, and the date is only two weeks away. The extravagance of it isn’t really your style, but she’s one of those people that has been dreaming of her wedding since she was a little girl. She has a vision. 

At this present moment, you are surrounded by small cuts of lumber, empty vases, fake greenery, and tea lights. Your job today is to assemble the centerpieces. You sit in the middle of the room on the floor, surrounded on all sides by your craft supplies. She is standing just outside your ring of accoutrements, crying and yelling. You aren’t totally sure what she’s yelling about. Seating arrangements? Maybe someone canceled? Honestly, at this point it’s unintelligible, so you decide it’s best to just let her carry on.

“And you!” you hear, clear as day.

You look up from your project and see her finger pointing toward wear you sit on the carpet. You look behind you, half expecting someone else to be there; you’ve done nothing but help. You turn back to her and barely raise a finger to point to yourself and raise your eyebrows in bewilderment. You mouth, “me?”

“Yes, you! Who else would it be? God.” You know she’s just stressed, so you take a deep breath and clench your fists around the fake greenery in your hands. “When we first started planning, you said you were gonna have a date, and I’m sorry things didn’t work with Yoongi, I really am, but now the seating arrangement is fucked and the whole entrance of the wedding party is fucked. It’s fucked, y/n. Could you just ask Yoongi to go with you?”

“Just ask Yoongi?” you spit back, “You want me to ask the man who broke my heart? Tore it into a million little pieces, who is, mind you, already going to be at the wedding because he’s friends with your future husband, to be my date? So...what? So I can get my hopes up again when he’s nice to me, because of course he will be, and get my heart smashed again? Oh but your seating arrangement will be good, so I should just suck it up. Right. Sure.”

You’re standing now, having spilled tea lights all over the floor with the sudden movement. You are breathing heavily, fists clenched at your side, tears threatening to burst from your eyes. Things didn’t work out when you had told your workaholic boyfriend, Yoongi, that you wanted to get more serious, maybe move in together and consider marriage. You don’t think he meant to laugh at you, but he did laugh when you brought it up. He said that it was clear the two of you wanted different things, and he ended it with you. You clearly aren’t over him yet, and she knew that.

Your friends face softens for a moment. You can see the reality of what she said smoothing her features.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just so stressed…” she trails off.

“Look, you want me to get a date? I’ll get a fuckin’ date. But I will not be caught dead on Min Yoongi’s arm.” You turn on your heel and let yourself out of her house, slamming the door behind you.

When all the rage fades, you realize what you’ve said that you’re going to do. You also realize that you left all centerpieces unassembled in the middle of the floor. You call your best friends mom and ask her to go over and finish them.

“I am already on my way over there, sweetie. But did I hear right that you are going to get a date for the wedding? Where?” she asks, genuinely concerned.

You know she isn’t trying to be hurtful but c’mon, I know guys! You think to yourself. I know so many guys. I know...Yoongi for one, and Hobi. Granted Hobi is marrying my best friend in two weeks. I know….oh! Jungkook! Jungkook will totally go with me!

“I know guys!” you respond to her with excitement in your voice. “I actually have to call the guy that I’m asking right now though, so I’ll talk to you later. Thanks again for doing the centerpieces.”

As you hang up, you quickly scroll through the names on your phone until you land on Jeon Jungkook. You tap out the message on your screen quickly and send it away.

You: Hey JK! I was hoping you might be able to accompany me to a wedding in two weeks. It’s out of town, so hotel. All expenses paid. Huh?

You put your phone down feeling optimistic. Jungkook loves to dance, and he’s a fun guy. Not only does he seem like a living human male who will go with you, you actually don’t hate the idea of going together with him. The excitement doesn’t last long.

Jeon Jungkook: y/n! Hey! I wish I could, but I’ll be back home in Busan. I’m so sorry!

You: No prob, buddy. I’ll go with Yoongi 😬

Jeon Jungkook: No! I won’t let you do that! He broke your heart. Let me give you hyung’s number. You remember Tae? From high school? He’s cool, and he’s free (he just asked me to make plans that weekend). Hit him up.

He sends you the contact. Kim Taehyung. You stare at the number for a long time before you type up a text, and you stare at the text for even longer before you send it.

You: Hi Taehyung, this is y/n. JK gave me your number, and he said you might be free in two weeks to be my date to a wedding. Nothing weird or anything! I just can’t go alone, and if I don’t bring a date, my friend is going to make me go with my ex. It’s a long story. Anyway, it is out of town, but your hotel and all your food and stuff would be paid for. Just let me know.

You exhale a deep breath after you hit send. You hope it doesn’t sound too weird or desperate or anything even though you are definitely both weird and desperate. 

Kim Taehyung: sure! I’m always down for an adventure.

You breathe a sigh of relief. Which is short-lived when you realize you don’t know anything about Taehyung anymore. You ran in the same circle in high school, connected by your mutual closeness to Jungkook. You text him back asking him to meet you for coffee, so you can go over the plan. The two of you decide to meet that afternoon, and the anxiety in your chest begins to loosen just a tiny bit. 

….

When you get to the coffee shop, you find a spot by the window in the big squashy chairs. You order yourself a latte and play on your phone, waiting for Taehyung. You hear someone softly clear their throat, and your eyes scan the figure in front you. You don’t mean to give him the up-and-down, you really don’t. But the man standing in front of you is not the same Taehyung you remember. You remember a scrawny boy with too much eyeliner (yikes) trying to act like a man while still dealing with all his teenage emotions.

Before you stands, perhaps, the hottest man you’ve ever seen. He is tall, taller than he was when you last saw him, and he is fuller too. He is no longer gangly and awkward. He has broad shoulders, firm pecs, and toned arms that you can see straining against the fabric of his tight black shirt. His black hair is long and messy, and tendrils hang down into his eyes. He has a smile on his face when your eyes finally meet his.

“Hi, y/n! It’s been so long!” he exclaims as he reaches out and pulls you into a hug.

You are shocked by the sudden touch and hesitate to put your arms around him. Even while he holds you for a moment with your arms at your sides, you feel comforted and safe. He smells like lavender and chamomile mixed with something else - maybe just his own skin.

When he lets you go, he looks a little embarrassed and backs up into his chair across from yours.

The two of you catch up about what you’ve been up to since high school: college, careers, failed relationships. You tell him all about what happened with Yoongi, but you don’t mention that you’re not over it yet. He tells you that his ex-girlfriend cheated in a one night stand with a girl at a club, and he had been pretty broken up about it.

You set your plans for leaving to get to the wedding early together. You have to be there on Thursday night because the bachelorette party was Friday and the wedding was on Sunday. He agrees, and you say goodbye to one another, this time without the hug. 

****

Thursday afternoon you are packing your bags making sure that you have everything when your phone rings. It’s your best friend, so you take a deep breath before you answer it, trying to stay as calm as possible since she is a total mess. “Good morning, my beautiful best friend and soon-to-be bride,” you say in a syrupy tone that she knows is facetious.

“I have bad news,” she huffs and without pausing she continues, “we booked the hotel when you and Yoongi were still together. So we only booked one room for you and Yoongi. So now Yoongi doesn’t have a room, and your date...Tae or whatever...doesn’t have a room either. And I know that I’m being insensitive right now, but you and Yoongi breaking up is the worst thing that has ever happened to me.”

She’s definitely crying and spiraling. “I mean...it wasn’t great for me either,” you attempt to joke, but she just sobs harder.

“Okay, okay. It’s fine. Yoongi will just stay with Hobi until Sunday, then on Sunday, you and Hobi are going to stay together anyway, yeah? So that problem is solved. As for Tae...I’ll talk to him, okay? No big deal,” you console her, unsure what you’re going to say to Tae.

She lets out a long sigh, but her crying seems to be evening out. “You’re right. Okay.” You finish the phone call and send a text to Tae.

You: So...funny story...youandihavetoshareahotelroomnowsorryokaybye

You toss your phone aside and finish packing your bags. As you are loading up the car, Tae pulls up. He looks just as good as he did the other day, wearing a loose t-shirt and gray sweatpants. He’s carrying a single leather duffle bag, and he has a huge smile on his face. He almost looks like he’s laughing.

The drive is only three hours, but it is long enough to be boring. You’re glad that you have company, and you and Tae crank up the radio singing along and laughing. You play car games together, and it is an overall good time.

When you get to the hotel, you are a little unsure of what to do or how to handle sharing a room with Tae. You slide the key in the door to the hotel room and exhale in relief when you see there are two beds in the room. You each take up your side and start to settle in.

When it’s time for you to get changed for bed, you awkwardly shuffle to the bathroom to change. Even though you normally just sleep in your underwear and a t-shirt, you put on a whole pajama get up because you aren’t sure how modest you should be with Tae.

When you come out, he’s scrolling through his phone. He looks up at you and gives you that warm, gentle smile again. How does he look so good just sitting on his bed playing on his phone?

“Hey, uh, so I usually just sleep in my underwear...but I can keep a shirt on if you want,” he says casually to you.

“Oh, uh, I mean, whatever you’re comfortable with. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable on my behalf, seeing how you’re doing me a favor,” you ramble out.

You wish you said no. As soon as it happens, you really wish you’d told him to keep on a shirt and a parka and snow pants and maybe also a ski mask. To say he is hot is the understatement of the century. His toned honey toned skin is smooth across his chest, taut over his muscles. His boxer briefs sit low on his hips, and your eyes follow the curve of his muscles from his stomach down past his waistline. 

You watch the muscles on his back flex as he climbs into bed. You lay your head back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling. What the fuck is happening? you think to yourself. You try to blink the images of his nearly naked body out of your head, but they are there even as you eventually fall asleep.

*********

All day Friday you help set up for the wedding. Tae comes by and helps for a while, and, when it’s time for the bachelorette party, he says he’s going to go find something to do in town. The girls all go out, drink, and celebrate your best friend. 

After the bachelorette party, you are feeling light and drunk and, for the first time in a while, you feel your shoulders relax. You say goodbye to the other girls in the lobby of the hotel and head to your room.

When you get there, there’s only one lamp on, and the room is empty besides your bags. You are painfully aware of the silky material of your dress against your skin, especially without a bra on. You feel so hyper-sensitive with the alcohol coursing through your veins. You skate your fingertips up your arms and across your collarbone. You feel yourself soaking your panties, and your nipples are hard against the silky material.

Your head isn’t totally clear, and you slide the straps of your dress off and let it pool on the floor around your feet. You stand in the middle of the floor in nothing but your panties and your heels for a moment, barely touching your skin on your neck and down your chest and belly.

You lie back on the bed, fuzzy head telling you to take care of it. You lick your fingers and take one of your nipples between your index finger and thumb. You feel your hips buck a little bit, feet, still in your heels, planting on the bed. With the way your feet are planted, your legs are open wide, and, if you weren’t wearing underwear, your pussy would be on full display. You bring your hand down to your panties. You run your fingers along the waistband before passing your hand over your covered folds, barely applying any pressure. You have decided to take it slow. You haven’t been with anyone since Yoongi, and you have been too busy to even consider masturbating. Now, you have the time, and you are soaking through your panties. 

You close your eyes, and you see the way that Tae’s shirt fits across his chest, the way the rolled up sleeves accentuated his biceps, the way that his sweatpants yesterday left nothing to the imagination. You see the way his bare chest is broad and smooth, the way his underwear sit on his hips, bulge prevalent. You imagine the way he smelled when he’d pressed you into his chest. You want to drown in his smell. 

You slide your hand into your underwear, drawing languid circles on your clit, sliding your finger through your arousal and back up to your clit. You feel like you are not in control of what your body is doing and small moans start to slip out of your mouth. You feel “Tae” come off your lips over and over.

“What?” you hear from near the door, but you think it might be coming from outside of the room and can’t process its proximity because the things you are doing are overwhelming you.

A whimper that turns into a yelp followed by “oh my god” comes from within the room, and your eyes snap open. Tae is standing at the end of the bed, eyes wide, mouth open, frozen in place.

You scream and try to get up from the bed quickly, but you are drunk and wearing heels, and you lose your balance. Instead of getting away from him, you stumble toward him. He throws his arms out to catch you, steadying you as your mostly naked body presses against him. And you are mortified, but the scent of him makes your pussy clench. In that instance, you’re a little angry that you didn’t get to finish.

“Are you okay? How drunk are you? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to...I just...we’re both in here. I didn’t know. That’s my bed, by the way. But that’s neither here nor there. Are you okay?” he rambles, trying not to look at you.

You pull away from him quickly covering your chest as you run over to the other side of the room to grab a t-shirt and sweatpants. You throw the shirt over your head, and, as you try to put on the sweatpants, you realize you’re still wearing the goddamn heels. You throw them off as quickly as you can and pull the sweatpants on. When you look up from your panicked clothing debacle, Taehyung is looking anywhere but at you.

“Tae...I’m sorry. I’m just...I’m-I’m drunk, and I’m horny. I’ll go stay somewhere else.”

“Wait no…” Tae starts, but you are gone before he can even finish. You go to your best friend’s room, and she welcomes you in. When you tell her what happened, she laughs hard, pretty drunk herself. You agree to not talk about it any further.

*********

Besides avoiding Taehyung, the next day and half go by smoothly. You are busy setting up for the wedding. The hairstylist and makeup artist take care of you before the wedding, and your friend’s mom brings your dress and shoes to you. You haven’t had to go back to your room for anything, but you are dreading sitting next to Tae at the reception. The dread is briefly overshadowed by the love and pride that you have for your best friend and Hobi during the ceremony.

The ceremony goes off seamlessly, and you are so happy for your friends that you forget for a little while to be embarrassed. When it’s time for the reception, you realize that you have to enter with Tae for the processional. He meets you by the doors, looking pretty annoyed. He doesn’t say anything to you, and he just offers you his elbow when it’s time for you to enter the banquet hall. You walk in holding his arm, faking a smile, and take your seats at the table, followed by the remaining bridesmaids with their dates.

Throughout dinner, Tae continues to ignore you. You think to yourself if anyone should be avoiding anyone, it’s me avoiding him, but you don’t say anything to him. At one point he gets up to go to the bathroom, and you sit alone, pushing your food around your plate.

“Is this seat taken?” you hear from an all too familiar voice. You force yourself to look up into his eyes, and Yoongi is staring back down at your with a smirk on his face. You don’t have the words to respond, so you just stare at him for a moment.

A deep voice from behind you says, “yeah, actually it is,” and then you feel a hand on your shoulder. Oh, so now he wants to pay attention to me. His hand feels like it’s burning your skin, and you want to lean into it.

“Oh sorry, man. It didn’t seem like you guys were together,” Yoongi says, confused but still confident.

“Yeah, well, we are. Why don’t we go dance, y/n?” Tae hisses through his teeth.

“I’m kind of talking to Yoongi right now,” you say to him.

“Yeah, that’s all good, but I really like this song. So come dance with me,” he insists, pulling your wrist a little.

“Yeah...okay fine,” you mumble as you take your napkin out of your lap. Yoongi is looking at you dumbfounded, and you shrug and follow Tae to the dance floor. He pulls you in and presses his body fully against yours. Is this some kind of weird possessive shit?

“So you’re going to ignore me all night and then get pressed when Yoongi tries to talk to me?” you snap, annoyed.

“First of all, you left me alone in that hotel room for two days, so who’s really ignoring whom? Why can’t you, for once, just be a good girl and do what I say?”

You can’t deny that the expression “good girl” coming from his mouth does something to you, but you are already heated. “Oh, yes sir. I’ll be the goodest girl because you just dragged me over here and are being an ass, so I better be good for you. Fuck off,” you spit at him, rolling your eyes.

“Well, you told me how Yoongi broke your heart. And you weren’t gonna tell him to get lost, so I did you a favor. You should be thanking me,” he spits out.

“What’s your deal, Tae? It’s not like we’re actually dating or anything.”

You swear he growls in his chest a little bit, then he spins you before pulling you back into his body. “Well, maybe I want to be,” he mutters.

Before you have a chance to talk, the MC comes on and asks everyone to clear the floor for all the first dances, father dances, mother dances, second-cousin dances. It goes on for so long that you decide to return to the table, and Taehyung follows you. You sit down, fully prepared to demand an explanation from him when the photographer comes up to your table.

“Can I get a picture of you two?” she asks with a bright smile.

You can’t bring yourself to say no to her cheeriness, so you agree, doing your best to smile for the camera.

“You know what would be really cute?” the photographer starts, and you feel the dread building in your chest, “if you sat in his lap.”

Oh my gods, ugh. You are incredibly annoyed, but you know that this innocent woman doesn’t understand the very weird situation going on. So you, once again, reluctantly agree. You climb into Taehyung’s lap, and the energy immediately feels different. He clears his throat behind you and slides his arms around your waist. While the photographer tries to get a better angle (why is she taking so long!?), Taehyung starts to slide his hand down your thigh.

“I heard you,” he whispers to you, smile still stretched across his face. “I heard you say my name. You can’t act like you don’t want me. I heard you.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask defiantly, knowing exactly what he’s talking about.

“You know what I’m talking about. You said my name. I’ve wanted you since the day I met you. I had such a big crush on you in high school, but you were oblivious. Now, you see me. Now, you want me. I heard you.”

As the photographer walks away, you don’t try to get up. You just shift a little in his lap. With the movement you can feel, very clearly, as if there was hardly any fabric between you at all, the outline of his cock, half-hard against your ass.

“Are...are you not wearing underwear, Tae?” you ask, feeling flustered, face hot.

“I tell you I heard you say my name while you were touching yourself on my bed. And you ask if I’m wearing underwear. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to take advantage of me,” he professes with a smirk.

You look around frantically to make sure no one heard him, but your head snaps back to look at him when you feel his fingers teasing the hem of your dress against your thigh. You can feel the movement causing a rush between your thighs, and you can’t focus on anything except the way his hand feels on your skin.

“Tae…” you whisper, trailing off.

“Say it, y/n. Say you want me.”

“We can’t do this here, Tae. There are so many people here,” you say looking around at all of your friends, who you would be mortified if they found Tae with his hand in your dress.

“If you say that you want me right now, I’ll take you upstairs, and I’ll fuck you like you deserve to be fucked,” he whispers, letting his hot breath run over your ear.

Shit. Shit. Am I doing this? Fuck it.

“Tae, I want you...right now,” you practically moan.

With that, he’s up out of his seat, adjusting his pants. He ushers you out of the hall with his hand on the small of your back. You clamber into the elevator, and, when the door shuts, he is all over you. His mouth is on your ear and your neck, your collarbone and the curve of your shoulder, you chest and the upper swell of your breast. He’s kissing every exposed inch like he’s been poisoned and the only antidote is in your skin.

The elevator door opens on your floor, and the two of your practically run to your room. He slides the key card in and flings the door open. He kicks it closed behind you, and he takes off his tie and begins unbuttoning his shirt. He turns around to look at you, lacing his fingers in the hair on the back of your head down to the nape of your neck. He’s big eyes are peering into yours, searching your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks in a deep rasp.

“Tae, you’ve already kissed my whole chest. Yes,” you say back with a bite to your tone. You can’t help but want to contradict him and push his buttons.

He smashes his lips into yours, a deep, hungry kiss. All of his annoyance and frustration seems to come out with his kiss too. He nips your bottom lip and pulls it a bit before letting it going. He goes right back to you, forcing his tongue into your mouth.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me now?” he asks when he pulls away.

“I don’t know,” you tease. “I guess we’ll have to see.”

“How is ‘babygirl?’ Is that okay with you?” he asks looking into your eyes again.

“Babygirl is fine,” you reply, “but I’m not your good girl.”

He growls at you from his chest, scrunching his nose. You feel the tension in your stomach building and you know that your panties are useless at this point they are so soaked. He leans into you, reaching around your back, unzipping your dress. You shimmy it off your body, letting it pool on the floor around your feet, just like you had down two days before.

You runs his fingertips across your skin from your collarbones over your breasts, gently catching your nipples, down your stomach, across the waistband of your underwear. He bends his knees, setting one on the floor, and he keeps tracing his fingers down your thighs, over your knees, and around your ankles. He presses his mouth to your hip and your thigh while he caresses the inside of your legs up to your thigh and back down to your ankle. Then he pulls the strap off both of your ankles from your shoes and pulls them off your feet. Your skin feels like it’s on fire with every touch from Tae’s fingers, and you feel your pussy clench around nothing with every move he makes. 

While still on his knee, Tae looks up at you through his lashes. He asks in a commanding tone, “Babygirl, if you need me to stop you just say red, okay?” And you nod.

“Now, are you going to be good for me while I lick your pussy?”

Your breath catches, and your heart pounds in your chest. “I don’t want to be good,” you sass, voice hoarse already.

His teeth bite down on the skin of the inside of your thigh. “Are you talking back to me, babygirl?”

You are too stunned to come up with anything clever, so you just nod.

He bites down again on your other thigh. “Use your words,” he commands.

You are so wet and so overwhelmed. He is too much for you already. “Yes, I was talking back to you,” you pant out.

He stands up from between your thighs, and you feel remiss that you let your brattiness get in the way of having him licking you. He whispers, “you’re being a bad girl.”

You stick your tongue out at him in response, unable to stop yourself. His hand comes up to your chin and holds your head so you have to look him in the eye. “Look at me,” he demands. “You better start behaving, you little monster.”

For some reason, him calling you a little monster does something to you. You don’t know if you’ve ever been this turned on. “I’ll be good. I’m sorry.”

You lean to kiss him, and he catches your lips in another bruising kiss.

“Lie down on the bed and take your underwear off,” he says as he stands back from you, palming himself through his pants, seeking some relief. 

Once you’re in position, he pushes your legs up, so your knees are bent. You are in the same position that you were just two days ago when he walked in on you. He whispers so pretty, then kisses gently on your clit and down your folds. He barely slides his tongue into your pussy, then drags it all the way up you, collecting your arousal on his tongue.

“So wet for me, babygirl.”

He takes his tongue and draws slow, steady circles on your clit while he brings his hand to your entrance and slides too fingers in. He immediately pushes them all the way in without letting you adjust, then he curls them upward. His lips wrap around your clit, and he sucks.

You groan beneath him. He feels like he knows exactly what your body wants and needs. He is intuitive to your body, and your head is swimming. Your skin is burning, and your hips start to buck, even as he uses one hand to try to still you.

“Tae, I’m going to cum,” you gasp.

“No, you aren’t,” he says against your clit, “you’ll cum when I tell you to cum. And do you know why?”

You shake your head, back arching up off the mattress.

“This pussy is mine. Your orgasms belong to me, understood?”

“Yes,” you whine, “please, Tae…”

“Say it,” he commands for the second time tonight.

You moan as he continues his unforgiving ministrations with his fingers and his tongue. “Fine. This pussy is yours. My orgasms belong to you.”

“Good girl,” he whispers and pulls his fingers out of you and pulls his mouth away.

“No, no,” you whine at the lost of contact

“You better start being good, babygirl. You better start showing me that you deserve to cum.”

You really don’t mean to say it, but your bratty side comes out again. You look him in the eye and defiantly say, “Make me,” crossing your arms over your chest.

He leans over your body and picks you up, flipping you over easily. He commands you to get on your hands and knees.

“I’m going to punish you, babygirl. Do you remember the word to say if it’s too much?”

“I remember, yes.” You crawl onto your hands and knees and push your ass toward him, taunting him. You have your legs spread, and with the way you have put your head down on the mattress, your pussy is on full display for him. He can see how slick you are for him and because of him. You can feel how swollen your clit is, and all you want is for him to touch you again. Instead, he brings his hand down with a smack on your ass. You hiss from the sting, but you feel yourself growing wetter somehow. You moan and push your ass further back toward him. He lands four more spanks on the same cheek, and it stings as he rubs his hand over the spot. He presses his lips to the tender spot, and then he presses his lips against your wet pussy before pulling away. 

You try to bite back the whine that is trying to escape your chest. You turn to look at Tae over your shoulder, and you should have just kept looking forward. His pupils are huge, and his hair looks like he’s been running his hand through it. His lips are swollen, and his cheeks are pink. You let out a moan at the sight of him. Desperate to cum.

“Please, Tae. Please let me cum,” you beg, feeling like you might cry.

“Turn around, baby girl,” he says a little more gently than his last commands.

You turn around, and he steps up right in front of you as you sit on the end of the bed. He puts his fingers on your chin again and angles your head up to him. He presses a gentle kiss to your mouth, and then he grabs your hands and brings them to his belt. You can see the outline of his cock through his tight black pants. You have never wanted a cock more in your life than you want his right now.

You unbutton his pants, and the flesh of his dick is right inside the zipper. So he wasn’t wearing underwear. You push his pants down, and he steps the rest of the way out of them. He takes his cock in his hand and strokes it. You look up into his eyes to wait for him to tell you what to do.

“Lie down, babygirl,” he says, and you immediately obey.

His eyes flash with realization for a moment. “I don’t have a condom,” he says in panic, his breathing quickening.

“It’s fine. Are you clean? I’m fine. Birth control. Just fuck me raw,” you can’t think and words are tumbling past your lips.

“I am clean. You’re on birth control? You’re clean?” he asks, slightly more coherent than you are.

“Yes to both. Fuck me raw, Tae, please,” you beg. You feel desperate and crazy.

He pulls your hips to the end of the bed, still standing in front of you. He drags his cock through your arousal, getting his dick slick before he presses against your entrance. He pushes slowly into you, and you feel every millimeter of him exploring every millimeter of you. You let out a loud guttural moan as he continues to push all the way in. He brings his thumb to your clit and pushes messy circles there, and you clench around his dick.

“Fuck, babygirl, you can’t do that. I’m not gonna last long anyway,” he says as he draws himself slowly back out of you and pushes back in slowly.

“Tae…” you pant.

“I know, babygirl. You have to hold on though. Remember your orgasm is mine.”

He starts to thrust in and out of you more urgently. He’s panting, hair falling into his eyes. His breath is ragged as he continues to rub unforgiving circles on your clit. He pushes his hair back with his one free hand, and his tongue darts out to lick the corner of your mouth. You feel yourself careening toward the edge, and you don’t want to disappoint Tae but also can’t stop it. You pant out his name again.

“Cum for me baby girl,” he whispers as he bites your ear lobe, thrusts becoming erratic. You tumble over the edge, warmth filling your stomach as your pussy clenches around him, and your mind goes black as your eyes pinch shut and all of your muscles contract. You let out a low, loud moan, and Tae is crashing like a wave too. He cums hard and moans a long moan, filling you with cum and continuing to fuck it up into you. His hips only stop when you have regained your senses enough to open your eyes.

After he pulls out of you, he disappears for a second. He returns with a warm washcloth. He sets to work cleaning you and then himself. He takes the towel back to the bathroom, and then climbs into bed next to you. “What can I do to take care of you, babygirl?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“I want to cuddle you, and maybe watch The Grinch,” you respond in a sleepy voice.

He gets you both under the covers, then pulls your body close to his. “I’ll try to find it, but we might have to watch something else,” he explains as he grabs the remote and flicks on the TV.

“Hey Tae?” you say after you settle on watching HGTV.

He hums in response and pulls his eyes from the screen to look at you. “Can we like...go on a date soon?” you ask, suddenly nervous even though you’re both naked, cuddled in a post sex cocoon.

“I want nothing more than that...and we probably should since your pussy is already mine anyway,” he smiles a huge smile and presses kisses to your temple, cheek, and jawline. You snuggle back in and eventually fall asleep wrapped in one another.