#sorry I know this is NOTHING new to any of my followers but I need to emphasize that I’m
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izvmimi · 3 days ago
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cw: something something about keepsakes and important items. selfship-coded. fluff with suggestive language at the end.
“Have you seen my bandana anywhere?”
Robin offers you a sympathetic look as she shakes her head no, offering you many hands to turn over the room you’re both in but soon you thank her for her efforts, heading out of the room and leaving her to her reading.
The pink, purple and gold scarf is a favorite of yours, and even if it doesn’t have a quarter of the sentimental value or symbolic gravitas as Luffy’s straw hat, it is still particularly important to you. You’d let it sit in the laundry hamper in the women’s quarters for a little too long instead of washing it yourself by hand and leaving it to dry in the shower and (perhaps serving you right for being lazy), now it was nowhere to be found.
Not under any of the beds, or on the living room couches and chairs; not somewhere in the kitchen or bathroom, or in any of the clotheslines with washed shirts and bedsheets hung out to dry.
You find yourself growing more frustrated by the moment as you search, until you find Luffy, sitting on the lawn in squatting position and watching intently as Usopp tinkers with a new invention, your bandana tied around his bicep.
Both relief and annoyance watch you at once.
“Luffy!”
Luffy moves so fast you barely spot him until his face is right in front of you, grinning widely. The rest of him follows, the remainder of his body snapping back into place and you grimace, wishing he wouldn’t contort himself so easily into cartoonishly horrifying form when you weren’t expecting it.
“Eh?”
He pouts as he notices your displeased posture, arms crossed over your chest.
“What happened?” he asks. You uncross an arm and point to the bandana around his arm.
“I’ve been looking for that for almost an hour, Luffy.”
He looks towards the bandana on his arm, then back to you.
“It almost flew overboard, that’s why I have it,” he asks. Slipping it off his arm quickly, he hands it back to you partially wadded up but before you can snatch it, he maneuvers quickly around your grasp, and attempts to fasten it around your forehead.
It catches you by surprise, and he tightens it a little too tight, but his attempt is so earnest, biting his lower lip as he tries to adjust it just right, you find yourself standing still and letting him do it.
“Sorry,” he offers. “Just wanted to keep it safe.”
He pauses, then places his hands on his hips as he admires his own handiwork. You reach up to adjust it gently.
“Luffy I tie it in the back, not the front,” you remind him, but he’s surprised you by putting his own hat on your head.
“Here you can wear this for a few minutes as an apology, okay?” he says. “Take good care of it!”
He’s already walked off to return to bothering Usopp, who sighs at the loss of the temporary reprieve from questions he enjoyed while Luffy was distracted with you. 
Your hands gently clutch the brim of his hat, and wonder why he so easily trusts his possessions with you.
You don’t wear Luffy’s hat often after that, its significance more than you can bear, but there are some particular occasions where he makes sure you hold on to it and you oblige:
When he’s about to do something particularly dangerous but necessary, as a promise that he’ll be fine and right back in front of you to get it.
When you need reassurance that he’s always there for you.
When you need a reason to hide your face...
The last of those reasons is particularly lascivious, but possibly your favorite, the wide brim, shielding you from your own shame when you’re a little too exposed for your own liking, atop or above him, wearing the hat but nothing else. It emboldens you and reminds you that you are loved and treasured all the same.
He is just as fond of your favorite bandana, a playful blindfold when he’s staring at you just a little too much for comfort, or when you want him to know that you too, will be right back where you left him, when you separate, either to travel a new city, landscape or ruin and he must leave you to your devices.
Somewhat of a perfect exchange.
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witchygagirlwrites · 3 days ago
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Lucky Bluejay
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Jay Halstead x Reader
Since you were young Bluejays were your goodluck charms. Every time you were at your lowest one was there watching over you. It wasn't until you joined intelligence that you figured out life may have led you to your very own lucky bluejay or well a blue eyed Jay anyways..
It started when you were six. Bluejays. You were at your cousin's house for the summer, outside playing hide and seek. You almost hid in a bush but a bluejay got your attention and you followed it, the next second your uncle screamed because a rattlesnake crawled out from under the very bush you almost hid in.
The next time you remembered was when you were eleven. You weren't making friends in a new grade, they didn't like the new kid. You were sitting by yourself in the break area outside. A bluejay came and sat next to you while you read. You ended up making friends with one girl simply because she went bird watching with her aunt.
For years it seemed every time you needed a little bit of protection, even if it was just emotional one of those little blue birds would show up.
The one that really stuck with you was when you were seventeen. You got in a car wreck, it was pretty bad. They had to end up cutting you out of the wreckage. The only thing that helped you hold onto consciousness was focusing on a bluejay that was sitting atop the fire truck parked close to your car or what was left of your car. Every time your eyes would start to close the bird would flap its wings or make some noise so your eyes would refocus.
The doctors told you at the hospital if you would’ve lost consciousness at the scene you probably would’ve never woken up again.  The day you turned eighteen you got a tattoo of a bluejay on your right shoulder blade. Just a reminder to yourself that apparently somewhere out there someone wanted you to keep going.
The day you graduated from the academy you felt your heart skip when you spotted two bluejays sitting in a tree across the way as if they were watching the proceedings themselves.  Your little lucky charms giving you a tip of their wings on the next step of your life. 
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You were approached by Sergeant Trudy Platt for an open spot in intelligence. When you questioned why she’d come instead of Sergeant Voight she’d smiled “Hank figured you’d be more likely to say yes if I asked”
You’d worked with everyone in the unit in passing. You knew they needed a new detective considering Voight was down a man but hadn’t expected yourself to be a draft pick. “Ok” you agreed because you couldn’t say no to that big of a step up in your career.
_____________
You stood next to Voight while he officially introduced you to everyone in the unit. “I remember you. Al used to say you were a damn good cop” Adam said and you smiled “I’ll take that compliment any day Ruzek”  Kim smiled “We rode together a few months. Good to have you here” 
One by one everyone welcomed you. Voight nodded to Jay Halstead who was coming up the stairs just as he’d gotten through with introductions “You know Halstead?” “Yes sir. I worked with him and Lindsay a time or two” he nodded “Good. He’s your partner”
Jay looked from Voight to you “Welcome to the unit” you smiled “Thanks”
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You let your head fall back against the seat in Jay’s truck. Your neck was killing you, your back was cramping and this guy hadn’t moved in hours. The wire tap was getting nothing but snoring at this point. “What’s wrong?” he asked, cutting his eyes at you.
You groaned lightly “Old injury wanting to flare up, just happens if I sit too long” he nodded “From that wreck?” you raised an eyebrow at him “I was talking to Hailey about that, not you” he grinned “Sorry, I felt I had the right to know any past injuries my partner has had” you shook your head “Next thing you know you’re gonna be getting Will to pull my medical records or calling that buddy of yours to dig into me deeper”
He tilted his head as if he was considering it and you started laughing “Or here’s a thought Jay, if you wanna know anything about me, just ask” He nodded, turning his eyes back towards the house “Ok, how bad was that wreck?” “They had to cut me out. Doc at the er said if I hadn’t stayed awake they probably would’ve lost me”
“Damn and at seventeen?” you nodded “Some idiot blew through a red when I was on my way home after school” he shook his head “Ok, next question..why did you turn that guy down at Molly’s the other night?” “Woah! Foul play there Halstead! Not partner talk!” you laughed and he grinned “You said if I want to know to ask”
What were you supposed to tell him? You had slowly started to fall for him? That any guy that tried to get your attention didn’t have the right shade of blue to their eyes or the right grin when they spoke to you. You shrugged “Maybe he wasn’t my type. No more questions. The patrol should be here soon to relieve us”
He nodded and got quiet for a moment before saying “Got any tattoos?” “Halstead I swear!” you threatened and was rewarded with the sound of his laughter. “C’mon..I just wanna know. You don’t have to show me” you cut your eyes at him and smirked “One” then turned your eyes back to the house, listening to him mumble under his breath trying to figure out where your tattoo was.
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“I’m fine Jay! The vest caught it!” you tried to convince your partner but the sharp intake of breath that came from you did little to convince him. He stepped closer, blue eyes holding you in place “Take your vest off. Now” you raised an eyebrow “We’re the same rank detective. Do not order me”
His eyes softened “Sweetheart please” you let him undo the straps on your vest and lift it over your head. His hands were warm, lightly tracing over your side to make sure he couldn’t feel anything broken. “Told ya the vest caught it” you argued and he glared at you “You’re still going to med. A quick X-Ray. Just to make sure” you knew you couldn’t argue, after Kevin’s collapsed lung that one time it was protocol. 
“Fine but you have to stay with me” he grinned “Deal”
____________
You were sitting on the bed with your arms crossed, glaring at Jay. Luckily you’d worn a sports bra to work that day so you’d only had to strip your shirt off to put the gown on but you were forced to sit and wait for the tests to come back. Will stood at the foot of your bed with them “Nothing’s broken or cracked. She’s fine”
“See? Worried for nothing” you told Jay then looked at Will “Can I leave?” he laughed “Yes you can” you didn’t even care they were in the room, your sports bra covered more than most tank tops. You reached for your shirt and slipped the gown off but mentally kicked yourself when you heard Jay say “Is that a bird?” followed by Will’s laughter “I believe that’s a bluejay” 
You felt your face warm as you slipped your shirt on and hopped off the bed “Let’s go younger Halstead” “Bye detective” Will spoke so you glanced over your shoulder at him “Bye Will”
______________
“Why a bluejay?” you were trying desperately to avoid answering Jay’s questions. You didn’t want him to tease you about why you loved the birds. You couldn’t take him making fun of you “No reason” you lied and he nodded “So we’re lying to each other now huh?”
You sighed “Ok, promise not to laugh?” he made a motion like he was crossing his heart “I swear” you went into telling him every time you’d had interactions with the bird. He listened intently, looking at you as the traffic allowed. Your stomach twisted waiting for teasing but instead he smiled “Hell if they kept you awake I like bluejays now” you felt your face warm slightly “Really? You don’t think it’s weird?”
He shook his head “Sweetheart you don’t know weird superstitions until you’re in the army” he went into telling you about a few guys he served with and you felt the knot loosen. He was the only person who’d never teased you about the birds.
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“Stupid thing!” you growled kicking the side of your car. It wouldn’t crank, it looked like it was going to start raining, you were exhausted and hadn’t eaten anything all day because you’d dropped your lunch and had yet to make it home.
You dropped your head over onto your arm and was on the verge of tears when you heard someone call your name. You looked up to see Jay, he was wearing that damn blue henley you’d long since fallen in love with and that smile that twisted your heart a million different directions “What’s wrong sweetheart?” he asked once he was closer.
You hit your car again “It won’t start, I’m tired and hungry and it’s about to start raining” he laughed lightly “C’mon. I’ll buy you some dinner and get you home then if it’s not raining I’ll come back and see if I can get it going. If not I’ll pick you up in the morning and call my car guy to come see what’s wrong”
You laughed lightly and he raised both eyebrows “Are you laughing at me offering to help?” you shook your head and reached a hand out to run across his chest, pulling the shirt up to emphasis it “My luck with blue jays coming to my rescue holds out” he shook his head with a grin “You’re better be glad you’re so fucking cute or the weirdness may win out one of these days”
“You think I’m cute?” you asked and was rewarded with a blush gracing his face “Just get in the truck before it starts raining” you leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek “You’re pretty fucking cute yourself Halstead” then ran to get in his truck as the first raindrops started falling and he ran to catch up with you.
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a-lonely-dunedain · 1 year ago
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Fun tip! If you want to have brainrot for the rest of forever, give a battle-scarred berserker lady a soft healer boyfriend. I literally cannot stop thinking. about them it’s becoming a problem
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nikkento-writes · 6 months ago
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Babysitter - Part 1
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Pairing: dad!Toji x babysitter!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~1.7k
cw: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is in his 30s), language, cheating, smut – PIV sex (doggy style), breeding kink, daddy kink
Summary: You're hired to babysit little Megumi for the summer, but you end up taking care of his father, Toji, as well.
Author’s Notes: This is repost from my old blog! I initially got this as a request and it became my first Toji fic ever, and certainly not my last lol. I'm posting this again because I actually wrote a Part 2, check it out! Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.
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You stand in front of a quaint house, checking your watch for the time. It’s been almost ten minutes now since you knocked, no answer. You gave the number from the listing a call, still nothing. Rolling your eyes, you take a seat on the steps leading to the door, waiting.
It’s the summer before you head back to university for your senior year. In an attempt to make some extra cash, you took a job as a babysitter through local ads in the paper. The first two clients were completely normal; this one is already leaving a bad taste in your mouth. 
Fifteen minutes have passed. You try once more, pounding on the door with your fist as loud as you can. Heel turned, ready to leave, it suddenly swings open, revealing a muscular man with black hair, glaring at you. “What the fuck do you want?” 
You step back, startled by his intimidating presence. Stuttering, you answer, “I’m the babysitter.”
He continues to stare at you, eyes following your body up and down, studying it. “Babysitter?”
Before you can explain any further, you hear a car rolling into the driveway. A woman in professional attire steps out quickly. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” She rushes towards you, holding her hand out to shake yours. “We spoke on the phone. I got stuck in traffic, I’m so sorry.”
You smile at her. “It’s okay.”
She faces the man, expression switching from cheery to dreary in an instant. “Toji, where is Megumi?”
He scratches his head. “Huh?”
“Megumi. Our child.”
He sighs. “Right. Uh, I’ll go get him.” 
While he’s gone, the woman pulls you aside, speaking in a hushed voice. “That’s Toji, my husband and Megumi’s father. Unfortunately, he’s a complete deadbeat. That’s why I want to hire you. I started my new job and I need someone to take care of Megumi while I’m gone during the day.”
She swallows hard, blinking to fight off oncoming tears. “I have no one. I’ve been shunned by my family, my husband doesn’t give a shit about ours, and I’m all alone trying to give Megumi a good life. I know this is a lot to ask, but I’m desperate. This is just until I can save enough money to hire a full-time nanny.”
She grips onto your wrist with both her hands, begging for help. Truthfully, it’s a lot to unravel, more drama than you anticipated. But the anguish in her eyes tugs at your heartstrings. Plus, knowing it’s temporary doesn’t make it seem so difficult. How bad can it be? “Okay. I’ll do it.”
Relief washes over her. “Oh thank god. Thank you. Thank you. Let’s go inside and I can give you a tour.” She leads you through the entrance, removing her shoes as you follow her. “Oh, and one more thing.”
“Sure.”
“Toji is home most of the day, but he’s always couped up in his room, doing god knows what. Just leave a meal or two outside his door twice a day. That should be enough.”
“Huh?!” 
She glances at you with a nervous smile on her face. “Yeah. I told you, he’s good for nothing.”
You don’t respond while you maneuver through the house, barely paying attention while she shows you around. It almost sounds like you’ll be babysitting two children…
~~~
The first two weeks of your new job go by smoothly. Megumi is an adorable baby; he’s almost two-years-old with hair as black as his father’s. While he never really smiles, he doesn’t cry either, expression usually stern, unless he needs a diaper change. He’s self-sufficient, always immersed by his own toys until it’s time to eat. Overall, he’s easy. 
Toji, on the other hand, is another story. 
You follow his wife’s instructions, leaving two meals outside his door, breakfast and lunch. And this asshole has the audacity to critique it! The bread wasn’t toasted enough. The eggs were too runny. There wasn’t enough seasoning on the meat. All this criticism while each plate is licked clean, not a crumb to spot. He’s never even uttered a simple thank you. 
But what he lacks in social skills or personality, he makes up for in his physique. In between meals, he works out in the living room lifting weights, doing push-ups, sit-ups, and pull-ups at the frame of the door. It lasts for over an hour, and by the end of it, he’s shirtless, dripping with sweat. You’ve done everything in your power to avoid staring but it doesn’t prevent your mind from conjuring all types of lewd thoughts about him. You’re ashamed to admit that he is physically attractive, only because everything else about him is utter trash. Still, it doesn’t hurt to look, right?
On the third week, there’s a shift in energy between you two. When he isn’t working out or going out to meet with his sketchy friends, he’s usually couped up in his bedroom, ignoring you and Megumi. This morning, he actually joins you in the kitchen. You stare blankly at him, stunned by his sudden appearance. Megumi is unfazed by his father as he tries to pull your wrist towards him to get a spoonful of mushed up peas. 
When he catches you, Toji glares. “What?”
“Um, nothing. Just surprised to see you here.” You clear your throat, focusing back on the baby. 
He rolls his eyes. “This is my house. I can do whatever I want.”
“Yes, of course. Sir.”
For some reason, this triggers him. He stands up abruptly, stepping to you, leaning his face towards yours. The scar on the corner of his lip twitches when he gives you a wicked grin. “That’s right. I’m in charge here.”
You flinch from him, scared, maybe even slightly aroused. He’s intense, that’s for sure. But part of you finds it exhilarating to be in his presence. 
Megumi whines for more food, to which Toji grabs the utensil from your hands to start feeding him. “Damn kid, he’s hungry all the fucking time.”
You sit up in your seat, regaining your composure. “You shouldn’t curse in front of children.”
He faces you, chuckling. “Curse? Seriously? What are you, five?”
You cross your arms, answering, “I’m twenty-one.”
“Interesting.” There’s that naughty smirk again, as if he’s thinking something obscene in that twisted head of his. And while you should be turned off, you’re not. You squeeze your legs together, pussy throbbing between your thighs. And of course, he notices this. He must, because he leans forward, lips grazing your ear, whispering, “Come by my room whenever Megumi is taking his nap. That’s an order.”
~~~
This is bad. Very, very bad. 
You're supposed to be better than this. Clearly, you aren’t, because you’re currently getting railed by your employer’s husband while his child sleeps peacefully in the next room.
“Fuck, this pussy is tight,” he groans, pumping his thick cock in and out of you. You’re bent over the edge of the bed, his hips smacking against your ass as he thrusts into you. He’s got a tight grip on your hips, nails digging into your flesh, pounding away at your greedy pussy, absolutely drenched with arousal and lube. Your face is sticky with perspiration, pillow soaked with sweat and drool. It’s a fucking mess, but it doesn’t matter, because all you can think about is Toji fucking you until you’re seeing stars. Until your head is empty and nothing but his fat cock is occupying your thoughts.
“God, you’re squeezing me so fucking hard, princess. You gonna come again?”
You nod erratically, reaching your fingers to your clit. He smacks it away, doing it himself, his thumb flicking against your swollen bud. “Fucking come on my cock then. Make it nice and creamy for me, got it?”
His cock is buried deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you unravel, gushing around him once more. You’ve lost count on how many orgasms you’ve had in this short amount of time. 
After your climax, he doesn’t pull out, fucking you even rougher. Your body is pliant around him, yielding to his every touch like putty. You’ve lost control of yourself, completely enraptured in the intense pleasure he surrounds you with. 
He leans forward, chest pressed to your back, lips brushed to your ear. “I’m gonna knock you up. Give Megumi a little brother or sister. Would you like that?” He’s crazy. Completely unhinged. Absolutely fucking psycho. 
“Fuck yes, I want that,” you moan. “Give it to me, daddy. Breed me.” 
And apparently, so are you. 
“Oh fuck yeah, take my fucking cum then,” he growls. The bed creaks violently below you, his backshots brutal and frantic now, cock desperate for release. “I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant. Make you mine.”
He shoots his hot load inside you, stuffing you full of his cum. He doesn’t stop until he’s fucked it deeper into your pussy, watching with that sexy look on his face as his creamy cum leaks out of your slit.
Lifting you up to lay comfortably on the bed, he rolls beside you, kissing you sloppily until Megumi’s whimpers blare through the baby monitor, indicating that he’s awake. Toji laughs, smacking your ass as you crawl over him to return to your real job. 
~~~
You spend the remainder of your summer employed at the Fushiguro household until you have to go back to school. You and Toji continue to fuck each other silly every day that you’re working. 
The day before you leave for college, you say your goodbyes to the family. Megumi’s mom, who remains blissfully unaware of your sins, hugs you tightly. “Thank you so much for all your help. I’ve finally saved enough money to afford a full-time nanny, so we’ll be fine.” 
“It was my pleasure. I had a lot of fun. With Megumi,” you clarify, avoiding Toji’s gaze as he watches from the kitchen. 
“Seriously. You’re a good person. I hope you know that.” She smiles, truly grateful. “And thank you for taking care of my good for nothing husband too.”
As the guilt of this dirty, filthy secret eats away at you, Toji stares at you from across the room, smirking. 
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klemen-tine · 9 months ago
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No Prince Charming
(Batfam x Mom!Reader)
Anonymous asked:
Hello, I really like your work.
I saw that you have an open request, so I want to share an idea that has been sitting in my head for a long time.
Reader married Bruce for convenience. (In my head, the reader is a woman, but I'll leave it to your taste) The wedding takes place shortly before the appearance of the first Robin. Bruce and reader have a cold relationship. Reader comes from the wealthy population of Gotham. Therefore, reader is well educated and intelligent. So after a while, when Dick already appears, reader understands what her husband does at night. But reading doesn't say anything about it or hint at it. The reader doesn't want to get involved in any of this, it scares her. And although the reader is planning a divorce, she takes care of all the members of her new family. And although she is neglected in the family, the reader becomes a parental figure for children. But the children won't admit it. When Damian appears, the reader doesn't say a word to Bruce. But Damian treats reader very badly. And that becomes the trigger. The reader slips Bruce the divorce papers.(not to mention that they are getting divorced, since Bruce is likely to protest) and when Bruce signs them, he leaves the estate, leaving the divorce papers and the wedding ring on the bed when no one notices. And only then does the family realize what they have done with their neglect of reader. Their yandere trait is waking up in them and now they need to somehow find their reader.
Sorry if it's too much.
And I apologize for the English, I am writing with a translator
Warning: Non-consensual drugging, not descriptive sex. It's just mentioned, no details. Hinted at Dick's trauma with his sidekick.
It was a marriage of convenience. That's all it was. Bruce Wayne knew Y/N L/N since childhood, and while they weren’t close, Y/N was the only one who never treated him any differently after his parents were murdered. Maybe it's because her own father was murdered, and she understood that sometimes the greatest support was to act like nothing changed. 
Fast forward to young adults, Bruce Wayne was now Brucie in public, and Y/N was the unstoppable woman leading her own company by the reins. Bruce had come to her with an offer, one that had her brows raised and painted lips smirking. For Bruce Wayne, this will help solidify his position as someone who was not Batman, and for Y/N it would finally silence the hecklers that gnawed at her heels and bit into her shoulders. 
A frigid marriage, filled with cold greetings, Brucie still entertaining women, Y/N still controlling her company with painted lips, and rumors surrounding them. Despite the coldness, Y/N knew a lie when she saw one. She knows a front when she comes face to face with one, and it is why when she saw Batman in the hallways of Wayne manor, staring at her in shock and apprehension, she rolled her eyes and continued to sip her wine as she made her way back to her office. 
“Please don’t stain the carpet. Alfred just shampooed them.” They never brought it up again. Bruce was no Prince Charming, despite the front he put on for strangers. There were no whispered promises, no flowers, no gifts, nothing but ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes.’ 
Then, along came Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson. A child who had blinked up at her with large blue eyes, and Y/N could feel her heart crumble. She had welcomed him with open arms and smiles. She had welcomed all of the Robins in. Her manicured nails getting shorter each time, so she doesn’t have to fear hurting one of them, and her smiles became softer. Y/N had never tried to replace any of their mother’s, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel like one. 
But it was Bruce they had a closer bond with. Which is why they started following his behavior towards her. Clipped words and rolling of eyes were common, as were the cold shoulders and tense silences. 
“You’re not my mom! So stop asking how school was!” Y/N stared at Jason in shock and curiosity about where that outburst had come from. Alfred was the only one to say anything. A stern, “Master Jason,” and a look that had even Bruce cowering had the young boy apologizing. Y/N ignored the way her heart slowly broke, as the quirky child full of smiles, sass, and who loved classics, turned his back on her. 
As if she wasn’t the one to introduce those books to him. 
Y/N doesn’t blame them for their cold behavior towards her. She doesn’t blame Dick’s disregard, Jason’s hurtful words, Tim’s cynical looks, Steph’s taunts, and Damian’s heated actions.  
Y/N had cried at Jason’s funeral, she helped Bruce fight for custody for Tim, she had consoled Dick after some of his own traumatic experiences, and she sat there and listened as Damian compared her and Talia. Talia, of all people. She had met the woman once, and Y/N had nodded at her. Y/N never judged Bruce for sleeping with the woman. Hell, Y/N would have too.  Y/N can recall the day Damian came to their manor, and the short look Dick had given her when she and the child made eye contact. 
Y/N doesn’t know if it was a look of concern or mockery, but she knows he did look. 
She was there for Richard when his trauma with his sidekick happened. He may have never told her, but Y/N is a woman. A woman who has known people that have suffered the same way Dick has. That are still suffering like he is. 
“I’m sorry Richard.” 
“What do you even know?! You know nothing! Absolutely nothing so just butt out!” Dick glared at her with blue eyes that had put the arctic water to shame. Y/N stood there and took it all. She stood proudly with her shoulders back and chin up. 
In public, she was a stoic mother keeping the children in check while Bruce goofed off. She was the woman who failed her children, because she chose to continue running her business. Her very, very, very successful business. A business that had taken her and her mother from the bottom of High Society, to the top 10%. A series of great investments, smart marketing, and pretty words have lined her pockets with money that she could easily retire on. 
Yet, all that money couldn’t save her mother. The woman died of a heart attack, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing Y/N could do besides bury her mother. 
“Bruce please.” 
“I am busy.” 
“I know but Bruce, this is my–” 
“Ask Alfred.” He had turned his back and Y/N was stuck staring at the retreating man with a new feeling of heartbreak. The tabloids ate up that she was alone at her mother’s funeral. A private event that no one was allowed into besides close family and friends. 
When she came back, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped, Damian had picked the time to make his disdain known again, “–and my mother would have never let herself go like that. You look horrid, unbefitting of a Wayne. A disgrace.” 
Blank E/C eyes stared into raging green and she sighed, “Thanks, Damian.” She spared him no glance after that, and she walked towards her bedroom to take a hot shower. It was there, under the hot spray of water that she finally cried. She cried for the last part of family she had, and the years she lost from marrying a man who didn’t even like her enough to attend a godforsaken fucking funeral. She cried for the children she couldn’t even call her own. 
She cried for the life she missed by marrying Bruce fucking Wayne. 
“Honey, are you happy?” 
“Of course Mama.” 
“You never could lie to me sweetie.” Her mother kissed her forehead and looked into E/C eyes with nothing but love, “You’ve worked so hard, sweetie.” That acknowledgement alone had her almost in tears, “But please start working for yourself now.” 
Taking a deep breath, Y/N hopped out of the shower and called her lawyer. Divorce papers were in her hands within 24 hours, and her bags packed in 3. 
She stood next to Bruce, ignoring the scowl on his face as she ‘disrupted’ his work. Y/N kept her face neutral, because if she smiled it would give it all away, and handed him the page he needed to sign. 
For a billionaire and for a vigilante, he sure didn’t read the damn paper. Which is fine. Great even, because now, after being here for over a decade, Y/N is free. She laughed in her room, laughing so hard that it almost tore her throat. Leaving a copy of it on Bruce’s bed once he was gone, she grabbed her suitcase and accidentally ran into Alfred on her way out the door. 
The old man took a look at her clothes, her bags, and her expression before sighing, “Shall I drive you for the last time, Lady Y/N?” Y/N smiled, bitterly at the thought of leaving Alfred, her only solace in this cold mansion. 
“To the airport, please.” The ride was silent, and Y/N didn’t look back as they left the gates of the mansion. It wasn’t until they were halfway there that Y/N spoke up, “My lawyer will call in a few days, just to hash out the details.” 
“Is that so?” 
“There’s nothing I want. No assets, no money, nothing will be taken, I just want a divorce.” She just wants the law to recognize that she is not a Wayne. That she will never be a Wayne. 
“Lady Y/N, perhaps a check for compensation for the emotional strain would be nice?” Y/N laughed, bitterly and sad, “I don’t want his money. I want nothing to do with him anymore.” 
“And the kids?” 
“They don’t need me. They never did. I doubt they will even notice.” Gotham International Airport wasn’t crowded, and that may be because it was 1pm on a Tuesday. Alfred helped her with her bags, and the old man stared at the woman before him. He remembers meeting her for the first time, a confident young woman who had a way with words and was unfairly intelligent. Matching wits and able to speak confidently in a room of people who thought little of her. 
It's good to see some of that coming back. 
Y/N hugged Alfred, “Thank you, Alfred. For everything.” The older man sighed and watched as the woman took her bags and walked away. Not once did she look back and Alfred decided to stay until her form disappeared in the building. He sighed heavily and when got back in the car, he dialed a number he knew by heart. It only took three rings before the voice of the man he raised answered, “Alfred, is everything okay?” 
“Master Bruce, I fear you may have lost something precious, and I do hope you, and the young masters, have a plan to make this up to them.” He hung up afterwards as he merged into traffic, and he hoped his message finally hit something within his son’s dense skull. 
When he returned back to the manor, he began the preparation for making dinner. All was silent throughout the manor, until the door opened and the rush of the footsteps began marching towards him. 
“Master Richard, I urge you to not run.” 
“Bruce told me there was an emergency and to hurry to the manor?” Alfred sighed, “While it is an emergency, it is not one you can fix on your own.” No, this was something for Bruce to fix seeing tha all the problems stemmed from him. 
Dick raised a brow, “What kind of emergency is it?” Alfred pursed her lips, “Miss Y/N Wayne is now Miss Y/N L/N once more.” He turned to look the man he has considered his grandson in the eyes, and he could see the revelation sink in. 
“Y/N divorced Bruce?” Alfred nodded, “The papers have been signed.” 
“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Alfred raised a brow, “They are signed and waiting for him to read.” Dick slowly walked out of the kitchen, “Is she still here?” Alfred turned back to the food and Dick began speed walking towards Y/N’s room. As a child it never occurred to him why they would they never slept together, but as he got older he understood. 
He knocked on her doors, calling her name like he used to as a kid. 
Dick had always understood that Bruce’s and Y/N’s relationship was not one of a couple in love. He also understood that Y/N’s treatment in the manor by the residents of the manor was unfair. Whenever he could, he would correct Damian’s harsh words, but even he himself couldn’t fully bring himself to be all that kind to her. 
He tried. He desperately tried, because he saw all that she did for them behind the scenes. He saw the mistreatment and judging looks others would give her as her ‘husband’ was out fooling around. 
Dick saw the blank look she had given Damian after her mother’s funeral. The one none of them had gone too. 
“What do you mean you didn’t go?” His voice panicked as he talked to Tim, “I didn’t go. I was under the assumption someone else would go.” 
Y/N could have been Gotham’s biggest bitch, but not even then would she have deserved that. What made it worse was that Y/N was not a bitch. She wasn’t cruel, or unkind. She was as much of a philanthropist as Bruce was. Always aiding those whose needed it and desperately trying to make Gotham a better place. 
Dick opened her doors and was greeted with an empty room. Gone were the picture frames, and the closet was empty along with the bathroom. Her prized jewlery, the things she took care of almost obsessively, all of it was gone. 
He could remember beng 9 and sitting next to her as she cleaned one of her sapphire earrings. Thin fingers with long nail held the earring next to him, a scrutinizing look on her face before she would break out into a grin, “As I thought, nothing could ever compare to our Dickie’s sapphire eyes.”
“Holy shit.” 
“What’s going on- why is Y/N’s room empty?” Tim looked throughout the room, and Dick could see the wonder across his younger brother’s face. Right, between all of them, Tim and Y/N had the least amount of time spent together. 
Dick stared at his brother as the image of Y/N smiling at a string of pearls entered his mind. She had explained to him when he asked that pearls, while feminine, also symbolized new beginnings. She had gotten it when Tim’s custody was signed over to the Waynes. 
“She’s gone.” Tim met Dick’s eyes, “Like… taking a vacation gone?” Dick gave a humorless chuckle, “She divorced Bruce, Tim. Y/N is gone.” This must have been what Alfred saw when he broke the news to Dick. The confusion and then realization coming to light in those blue eyes. 
“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Dick had said the same thing, and yet here she was. Gone. As if to emphasize his point, Dick made an exaggerated expression and motioned to the empty room. 
Tim looked around and he could feel a headache forming, “Bruce is gonna be pissed.” Dick groaned, “Fuck Bruce for a second, the only stable-mentally healthy-adult figure that isn’t Alfred is gone, Tim.” The boy didn’t look all that bothered, “Well, if she’s happier then I don’t mind.” 
Of course he doesn’t mind. Why? Because this little stalker most likely knows where she’s going. Tim did a good job hiding it, but Dick was raised by Bruce. He is trained to spot the mciroexpressions of people, and even if they are his own siblings. 
Tim is panicking. The very thought of Y/N leaving had not once occurred to them, and for Tim who loves planning, this was not once ever in the plans. 
Not once. Y/N had been a staple within the manor, and to imagine her not being here was rough. Evenw hen she left for business trips, it was fine because they all knew she was coming back. SHe would come back with souvenirs, handing each of them something that reminhded her of them, before running upstairs to get out of the family’s judgemental line of sight. 
“Fucking hell.” 
++++
Bruce entered the condo with ease. His steps light as he walked through the dark room, noting the all the furniture. There was no Y/N in the living room or kitchen, but when he looked out the balcony door, he could see her back. She was leaning against the edge of the infinity pool, without doubt a hot tub of some sorts because it was too cold to be swimming in a regular pool. 
She didn’t even turn around to look at him, her attention focused on the view of the snowy mountains and raging seas in front of her. Bruce could see the wine bottle left on the side of the pool and the glass that looked like it was finished only a short while ago. When she did turn around, E/C reflected the stars and dimly lit light around the pool, making them shine and sparkle like they were the galaxy.
Bruce isn’t blind. He knows Y/N is an attractive woman who had many people lusting after her even when they were married. Talia even made a note of it, “You should see if she wants to join next time.” He should have known that his clipped response was a sign. 
It was all there, and yet he did everything within his power to ensure that he would not fall in love with her. Falling in love has always been out of the question, and when Y/N came into his life, Bruce made it his mission to do just that. The woman before him had never complained, and she never seemed to fault him for it, but he could tell there was resentment. If he couldn’t have allowed himself to fall in love with her, he could have at least offered her friendship. One that made life more bearable for the both of them, and set a good example for the kids. 
“What are you doing, Bruce?” She didn’t seem shocked that he was here, let alone in her vacation condo. Bruce took off his shirt and pants, stripping down to his boxers before joining her in the hot tub. He had grabbed two glasses of wine before doing so, handing her one and taking a sip from the other. 
 “Is it wrong of me to want to join my wife on her vacation?” 
“Ex-wife. The documents are signed, and besides this is a girl trip.” Bruce re-read those documents and kicked his foot for not fucking reading them when he first signed them. He should have known she was up to something. 
“Y/N, come back to the manor.” He stared into E/C eyes as she took another sip of the wine. Bruce had come with a speech prepared, ready to convince her to come back with him, but it was all lost as he stared and observed the woman in front of him drink delicately from the glass. Y/N L/N has always been a woman of class, even when she was near the bottom of high society. It wasn’t her good looks that landed her in the top 10, possibly even top 5%, and like every classy woman, she was only allowed to regret a few things. Their marriage is one, but leaving is not even an option on the list of things she wants to regret but can’t. 
He knows this. She knows this. 
And yet, Bruce could only focus on how beautiful she looks, and how beautiful she would look sprawled on the silk bed sheets. Y/N has aged like fine wine, looking even more beautifully and worth more and more with each passing year. Aging gracefully and beautifully as the years passed and still catching the attention of others. 
It's a shame his younger self was more into whiskey than wine. 
He wonders how different their relationship would be if he had gotten to know her before and during the early years of their marriage. Without a doubt it would be easier to talk to her. Easier to convince her to come back to a manor that now misses her.
“And why should I?” It’d be easier to answer her with a compelling reason, one that would have her actually debating on whether or not to come back. Bruce reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and he’s shocked that she even let him do that. She didn’t flinch, nor did she lean into his touch. Y/N stood still as he moved the H/C lock behind her ears. 
“The manor misses you.” He’s never heard her laugh the way she did in that moment. Throwing her head back and exposing unblemished skin to the night air as she laughed, and continued to laugh. Her shoulders shaking from the force and slightly distilling the wine. 
Once she was done, her cheeks were red from the laughter and she was gasping for breath, “Yeah, okay. So Alfred misses me, I’ll make sure to give him a call then.” She turned her back to Bruce and began walking towards the edge of the pool. 
“The boys, girls, and I do too.” Chateau Petra was on his lips and the feeling of cold wine hitting his face and upper chest had him closing his eyes for a second. When he opened them, Y/N’s wine glass was empty and on her face was a hard expression. Cold E/C eyes glaring into his as she pulled herself out of the pool, and grabbed the rest of the wine bottle. 
“Sleep on the couch. You’re going home tomorrow.” Her steps quiet as she stalked into her home and she headed for the bathroom. Bruce sighed, and stared at the night sky with a new look in his eyes, ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures.’ He would like to believe that he is above this. He wants to believe that this was the worst case scenario happening and therefore this needs to happen. 
Has to. The very thought of Y/N being away caused an itch to form under his skin and a burning fire in his chest. A fire he never knew blazed in him until it went out. Now, more aware and protective of it, Bruce found himself craving the warmth in ways that had his mouth foaming and muscles tensing. He looked down at the water and saw the red wine diluting and sprawling throughout the pool water, looking like blood for only a second. 
A smile curled on his lips and he pulled himself out of the pool water, drying himself off before making his way into the shower with his ‘ex-wife.’ They may have never been lovers, but they were two adults living under the same roof. 
So, of course they have had sex. 
Hate sex is the best and worst sex. It is the best because Bruce can go as hard as he wants to and Y/N will love it. It is the worse because hate sex is all Y/N will see this as. Y/N will only see it has hate sex and not for the love Bruce feels for her. She won’t feel it in the way he caresses her skin or in the way he leaves his bite marks on her thighs. All Y/N will see this as, is hate sex. 
Which is fine. If hate sex is what Y/N needs to see this as to work then Bruce will take it. He has time. He has plenty of time to show her how much he cares and loves her. Those divorce papers will be long gone, every single one of those copies non-existent. He loves her. He loves her in the way a cactus loves the sun, or how the stars love the moon. 
Bruce was so enamored by her, that he couldn’t help but to fall deeper. Her soft hands, that have never broken a bone but have broken many hearts, cradling scarred shoulders and sharp cheeks. She didn’t flinch when his own rough hands gripped her’s, bruising and secure, and she didn’t flinch when intense blue eyes met hers. In fact, she smiled, like this was all a joke he was the butt of it. 
It pissed him off that even she could have secrets and inside jokes that he doesn’t know about. As she laid there, her eyes now closed and body relaxed, Bruce pulled out a syringe filled with something that will keep her asleep. Only for a few days. Barbara is already working on getting rid of the divorce papers and the kids were preparing for her return. 
Bruce kissed her forehead, smiling down at his Sleeping Beauty. If need be, the manor will be her castle and the kids her vines covered in thorns. Bruce, in all his daunting and terrifying glory shall be the dragon, keeping her locked within her castle because nowhere was safer than the castle. Only she could keep him calm, and only she could make him feel human. 
Batman was never Prince Charming.
_________________________________________________________
Not my best work in my opinion... but I still like tbh.
@problematicreblogger
@kurai-hono-blog
@rosecentury
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backinmyphase · 1 month ago
Text
Are we still friends? - G. S.
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Synopsis: There were many times your friendship with Satoru was hanging on a tight string. You had always worked through it. But this time was different. Even if you loved Satoru... - It would be hard to forgive.
wc. 11.2k (I'm sorry :'))
Content warnings: Satoru is a bit of an ass, leaving someone alone in an unsafe environment, SFW, mention of alcohol, Angst, Angst MUCH Angst, comfort to the end, year long pining, Satoru is an idiot and I mean an IDIOT
A/n: Happy birthday Satoru Gojo, my dumb idiot <333 (I'm sorry for any spelling mistakes or grammar errors. I also want to thank everyone who said they wanted a whole part of this drabble, I'm happy for every comment)
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Fall 2005
"Why are you avoiding me?"
You finally got him alone, without all his new friends surrounding him and making you feel small. Right here behind the sport gym of this old place you had to call your school. Finally you had a moment alone, to talk to him, after days of silence between you. Finally you could get this weird tension out of the way that had infested itself since the beginning of the school year.
After all it was just Satoru, right?
Just Satoru, who rolled his eyes, while turning his head away. "I'm not."
"Stop lying, you are." You followed his gaze, trying to read his expression. But there was no need for that, since he snapped his head back to you after you spoke, looking at you with that terrible expression which hid nothing.
"Oh my god, just because I am not running after you every day, does it mean I'm avoiding you!" He groaned, a hand in his hair making it messy.
"Jeez, you are so clingy."
You stared at him. Blinked to see if you just imagined that. Blinked again. Nothing changed. "Excuse me?"
He didn't say anything now, which only made your anger grow. "I'm trying to make sense out of your childish actions, Satoru! You are the one who just stopped talking to me, leaving me alone in English, even though we have a project together. And now don't tell me that's not avoidance!"
You were breathing heavily, while glaring at him but he only scoffed with a smile on his face, a smile you didn't know.
"Oh please, if you need help and attention that bad run after your little boyfriend!"
"What?" your voice rose a whole octave. "What are you talking about?"
"You know, Rayo or Ruya, whatever." he waved with his hand, pronouncing every letter of the name with almost disgust.
"Ryu? He is my partner for a physics project, for God's sake!" While shaking your head out of shock, you couldn't help but huff. Of all people, Satoru should know.
"Please." He chuckled with such a cold tone. You have never heard such a tone fron him. "Everyone knows you two are hooking up."
"What?" everything seemed to stop. Slowly you searched his gaze, but Satoru looked away.
"Who says that?"
You have never seen him acting that way. So detached. Why didn't he even look at you? Where was the Satoru who watched sad romance movies with you? Where was the honest Satoru?
Where was your best friend? Where was the Satoru you... Knew?
"Satoru, who is talking about me?"
He kept his head low, but you could still see a small glint of guilt in his eyes.
"Is it your friends?"
Something inside you was panicking at his lack of answer. At the lack of denial. What was also said about you? What did he gossip with them about?
"About what are they talking?"
You could see him gulp. But he still didn't say anything. Why wasn't he saying anything? If he let them talk about you, he at least had to tell you what it was about. Especially since he knew.
You had talked with him about your fear of high school and the way people gossiped and the rumors which ruined the reputation one had to uphold.
You had talked with him about trying to keep your head low.
"Satoru, what are they saying about me?" You couldn't help it, your voice rose.
And then he just started moving. Just walking slowly away. Didn't even look at you before. He could talk with these people about you but couldn't look into your face?
"Satoru if you just walk away now, I swear I will never talk to you again."
He stopped in his tracks.
"Satoru -"
"God, can you shut up?"
It was an ugly scream. But not as ugly as the expression he gave you as he finally looked at you. That was a look of disgust. And with an awfully calm voice he added;
"You are so noisy."
You blinked at him. One time. Two times.
That was not your best friend. That was a boy who was hiding whatever distain he had towards you for years. Years you thought he was the only person who understood you.
People change. People fall out.
"Forget it, Gojo."
·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········
Fall 2009
"You are avoiding Satoru."
It's like being pushed into cold water in warm clothes.
The stirring of the kettle is the only sound in the kitchen, helping to keep the awkwardness away. Shoko sat at the kitchen table with a glass of juice, her look remaining on your back, as you made yourself tea.
"I'm not."
Only after the kettle rang you allowed yourself to move again. Carefully, you took the kettle, pouring yourself the hot water into your cup with the teabag.
"You are." She took a sip.
You watched as the water changed its color to light brown.
"He is worried, you know?" you heard the shaking of her head. "Can't stop pestering me."
You couldn't help but scoff as you turned around to her, hot teacup in your hands. You placed it down gently and took a seat opposite of her. "Of course he is."
She was staring at you with that stare you knew. The stare which was contemplating what to do and what to say. You stirred your tea with a small spoon and placed the used teabag on a small tissue. The tea was still way too hot. But you still took a sip.
It burned.
"What did he do?"
You looked at her face. Her eyes were gentle and for the first time since a while she wasn't just Satoru's good friend, she was your roommate. Your friend.
You couldn't help but smile. Even if it didn't reach your eyes.
"What did he tell you?"
And that's when you saw it. Her eyes twitching, glancing at her phone on the side of the table. Just that small glance was enough. You knew. Knew, he had made her start talking to you. Knew, he wanted her to push you to answer. Knew, of course, he sent his friends to ask you, instead of just leaving you alone.
"Just that you are mad at him for no reason again. His words not mine."
Satoru Gojo was such an asshole.
·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········
"Sooooo... she didn't tell you anything?"
Satoru would be lying if he said he didn't wait the whole day to meet up with his friends. He had waited in the cafe for roughly an hour now, even though it wasn't the discussed time. But he just couldn't keep waiting. Waiting to get any possible news, any updates of what you could have said. Especially from Shoko.
But she just rolled her eyes at him.
"No Satoru, you should probably know what you did. If she is that mad at you, it's probably something big."
He shook his head, trying to think of anything he did that could've pissed you of. He glanced down at his hot chocolate - his third since he got here - and wondered why you just wouldn't tell him what he did.
After all, communication is key in a friendship, right?
Suguru shook his head at him. "Since when is she avoiding you?"
"Since 9 days." There was no need for math, Satoru had counted down the days since you wouldn't even glance at him, when he tried to talk to you. How you just walked past him in your own apartment, when he met up with Shoko and Geto. How you locked yourself in your room.
"I don't get why she is acting so childish now." he mumbled to himself.
No nod, no wave, no glance. It was crazy. It was dumb. It was just like five years ago when he was the one who shut you out of his life.
The loud sound of Suguru sipping his tea snapped him out of his thoughts. Suguru placed his teacup down on the table and tilted his head.
"Didn't you go out together nine days ago? That Friday?" 
There was a beat of silence in the room. Only the sound of the coffee machine in the background and the new customers ordering. Satoru blinked at his friends. One time. Two times.
"We did?"
Geto and Shoko shared a look. "Oh Satoru..."
·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········
You couldn't help but groan when you woke up. Your body seemed so heavy as you stood up, like every morning. Well every one since that one.
You glanced around your room, feeling horrible as you saw the dirty dishes you used yesterday. But you just didn't want to eat anywhere else anymore. You didn't continue talking with Shoko yesterday, for all means you started to avoid her too.
You knew, to all your friends you seemed unreasonable. You didn't go out, didn't leave your room and of course ignored Satoru. You worked on your psychology major online, the professors also accepting your work. Overall you tried to avoid any contact with your friends.
Because you just had realized; all of them were also Satoru's friends.
And who of them would put you before him? Before the golden boy Satoru Gojo? The boy who you had held so dearly to your heart.
Too dearly.
Your phone went off, making you sit up. It was already 8 am. You had to go to work or else your boss would be mad.
With one push you got out of bed, making yourself ready. Your phone lit up again. The last days you had started to ignore it. But still you took it everywhere you went.
You tiptoed your way into the kitchen, hoping to avoid running into Shoko. And you sighed relieved, - lucky you - she seemed to still be asleep. No used glasses or dishes. Just you and your kettle.
A coffee machine was too expensive so tea had to hold up.
While the kettle was working, you made yourself a slice of bread, with butter and cheese. Tea and bread, the breakfast of the winners. You took your first sip out of your teacup, sighing at the hot feeling, which warmed you. It was starting to get really cold, you needed the warmth.
It was mornings like these, which made you like fall.
The walk to your workplace was beautiful, the trees all in different colors, painting a picture worth of drawing. But unfortunately you were no artist. You were just a college student working as a part time barista. So you had to hurry up, to please your manager.
The woman wasn't happy with you, since you took the last couple days off. You knew it was hard in this environment, since it sorely relied on the broke students nearby, which were as employees really unreliable. Or at least that was what she was always complaining about.
But you needed the break, or you would have come to work with tear streaks on your cheeks.
You opened the door to the small coffee shop, met by the annoyed look of your manager. She stood at the counter with her arms crossed, her face only lighting up by a small bit as she saw you.
"There you are! Hurry up, we open in 10 minutes. So change into uniform!" she went into the backrooms, her voice echoing in the room. "Hurry, I said!"
You couldn't help but sigh, as you retreated into the small changing room.
There was something so heavy, when you started dressing in the apron. An uncomfortable feeling, a feeling telling you you are sick and should head home. But you had to pay to have a home.
You made your way back to the counter, leaning on it, while hoping there wouldn't be as many customers as usual.
You turned around to look at the menu and you were surprised, there were a couple of new additions on it. Macchiato and Flat white, which you have never made before. You hoped it could just be made by the expensive coffee machine next to the menu.
There were also new teas added to the menu. Lemon and Mint were new kinds, but personally you wouldn't drink them.
A ring behind you startled you. Great. You glanced at the clock next to the big menu. 9:05. Insane people.
You kept your look on the coffee machine, searching for the buttons you will have to use, trying to calm yourself that it was only one person. Even if their steps to the counter were very determined, surely they were just a normal person, wanting a normal coffee? Not a big order, you had to triple take to get right, surely?
You turned around. "Good morning, how can I -"
You stopped as you saw the white hair.
There he stood, leaning forward on the counter, white hair standing a bit up and those ocean eyes staring up at you.
" - help you."
That's why you needed a break. Because he knew where you worked. And you knew he would show up, distracting you, making you furious with just his smug face.
"You haven't answered my texts."
While squinting your eyes, you said again with a firmer voice; "How can I help you?"
He frowned, taking his arms off the counter while standing up straight again. But as he studied your expression, he seemed to get what you wanted to get across. He sighed.
"A hot chocolate please."
You nodded, while pretending to type things into the Cash register to keep your eyes down. Avoiding his piercing look.
"Here or take out?"
"Here. I will sit over there." he pointed at the small table, which was probably the nearest to the counter, making your inner self groan, which was hoping he would just get his drink and leave. But no, this was Satoru and of course he had to pester you even here.
"Alright, take a seat, your drink will be there in a second."
You waited for him to go to his table, but he didn't. No, he just stood there before you, like he was waiting for something.
You went over to the machine and started working it, but he still just stared at you. Making no effort to sit down. Even the sound of the machine pouring milk into the cup didn't fill the awkward silence.
"Is there something else you need?"
You could hear him clearing his throat. "You weren't here the last days."
And you were? Well good, you took the last days off. You took the finished cup of hot sweet delicious browness and placed it on the counter in front of him, while still not looking at him. "No, I wasn't. Is that all?"
He continued to stare at you. You were watching his hands, which were slowly engulfing the hot cup, while he still looked at you. You waited for him to finally go to his seat. He didn't. "Why won't you tell me what I did?"
"Is that all?" you raised your voice, leaning a bit back and turning your head a bit so you could glance at the back rooms. "If so, please let me work in peace."
"It was that Friday night, right?" he was whispering. "What did I do? What did we do?"
You froze. There was something so surreal of him asking what he did wrong. Like that was a reasonable question. Like you were mad for a small forgettable reason, something one could just forget about.
Like someone one could just forget about.
"Is there an issue here?" the head of your manager popped out of the backrooms, staring at the two of you. Well, at least someone listened to what you were saying.
"Not at all." you looked up and smiled at Satoru. "The young man here was just about to sit down at his table."
"Right?"
His face hardened at your words. But with a lot of self control, he also formed a smile, while starting to move. "Yeah, was just having a lovely chat with the barista about the new menu."
Your boss nodded and went back into the back rooms while Satoru finally sat down at the table. Your rapid heart beat, which you hadn't even noticed slowed down by the larger distance between you and him than just the small counter.
But there was still the tension between you, since no one else was in the shop, just you, him and your annoyed boss.
And his gaze was locked onto you while he drank his hot chocolate. Why was it so hard to avoid his piercing eyes? They were like magnets you really wouldn't want to be hung up on because just one look and a panic inside you rose, making you want to lock yourself up in the bathroom. And even though he had his laptop set up before him, he didn't spare it a glance.
Why did Gojo Satoru have such a presence?
You glanced at the clock. 9:36.
Would he stay here for the next 6 hours of your work? No, that would only one insane person do. Right? You dropped your gaze on the cashier register. Why couldn't you just be left alone?
God you needed a break.
A ring of the door made you look up again and you saw a soaked Utahime coming through the door, cursing at her broken Umbrella. Huh, you didn't even notice it had started to rain outside. Even though now, the sound of the water falling against the windows seemed so loud.
"Of course it starts, when I try to get to work..." Utahime muttered while placing her umbrella near the entrance. But her face lit up when she saw you.
"Oh, thank god you are back, it was hell without you! I had to deal with -" But as she looked at you her gaze dropped to Satoru, who was now really interested in his laptop.
"Oh. You are also here Gojo." Her face changed into a frown, while she walked close to the counter. She looked at you with a grimace. "What a surprise."
Satoru just huffed, but kept his gaze on his laptop. "Always a pleasant one, Utahime."
"Utahime?" The voice of your boss was coming from the back rooms, now louder than before, in the tone which meant trouble. "Get here immediately!"
Utahime looked at you and rolled her eyes, making a couple of gestures to illude to throwing up. But her voice was still kept professional. "Coming!"
"Someone is in trouble..." Satoru was grinning to himself while he typed something into his program. Utahime just scoffed while she went to the back rooms door.
"Well, I am not the only one, am I Gojo?"
Oh god, he didn't like that, you could see it in his falling grin. And while Utahime disappeared into the back rooms, you hoped he wouldn't open his mouth. But of course your hopes were for nothing.
He stood up and went to the counter with his now empty cup. Placing it with a bit of force on the counter. "Okay, I get it you know. I fucked up."
"But you could at least give me a chance to talk it out."
Just one look at his oh so deep eyes, made you avert your eyes to his cup. His words making you feel alone, exposed and so so uncomfortable. "Do you want to order more?"
He groaned and his hands found their way into his hair. "Please, drop it and just talk to me! You are making such a big deal -"
"Are you even listening to yourself?" your voice was much quieter now, barely a whisper. "You are already belittling me even though you don't know what my problem is. You already assume it's something small and stupid."
You looked up at his dumbfounded face. He blinked at you. You couldn't help but shake your head in disbelief. "This whole time you are talking about making things right and that you need to talk to me, but not once have you thought about giving me space this last week!"
You pointed at the small room around the two of you. "I mean you are even now here, at my workplace!"
His voice was filled with uncertainty now. "Yeah, because you wouldn't talk to me or Shoko -"
"Which should be sign enough to leave me alone, Satoru. How would you say it?" A small scoff left your lips. "I think 'Stop, being so clingy?'"
A silence filled the room. The quiet talking of Utahime and your manager could be heard, but the words to unclear to understand. Satoru held his head low now, almost averting your gaze.
"But-" your voice was shaking and you wanted to hit yourself for it. "If you want so desperately to know what I am mad about, I guess I can freshen up your memory."
Still silent. You guessed you should keep going. "Last Friday, we went to that club, you wanted to show me, you remember?"
"The one where you ditched me for all these other people?"
You looked down at the cashier register and hoped hoped you could hide the vulnerability in your voice. The room was completely silent. The only sound the falling raindrops against the window.
Until he laughed.
The sound of the little chuckles made something inside of you turn, you felt like throwing up. You looked up at him to see a relieved face. A. relieved. One.
"What are you laughing about." it was hard to speak while your teeth were pressed together with more force you had ever used.
Satoru stopped but the little smile remained. Your hand was itching at that smile.
"Sorry, sorry." he cleared his throat. "But I mean we can spend more time together, if you want that? I mean you still mean much more to me than thes-"
"Satoru." you raised your hand signaling him to stop speaking. "Why do you think I was avoiding you?"
"I - I don't really get...?" he was stopping mid his sentence, now looking confused. "You know it's okay if you were jealous, I never meant to make you -"
"JEALOUS?" You gripped the counter so hard, your fingers were turning white. "You think my problem is jealousy?"
He shut his mouth, blinking so clueless like again. It was exhausting.
"No, Satoru, my problem is not that I was jealous you spend time with other people." you gritted out, while typing in his hot chocolate, to distract your hand before you were hitting him. "My problem is that you abandoned me. Alone in a club, I didn't know."
"You left me drunk and clueless alone at a club with no one I knew. Miles away from my apartment. Left me to ask strangers where my ride was, while they pitied me, because the great Gojo Satoru had already left."
You dared to look up into his eyes, hoping he could finally see your mental state. Finally getting why you were so petty. Making such a big deal.
"That's why I am mad."
His look turned wide and blank. You couldn't keep looking at it and broke the eye contact. He didn't move, just stood there before you. But you could see his hands gripping the cup, he was holding.
Just as you saw him open his mouth again, Utahime came back, now with her uniform on. She had a blank smile on her face and a sharp glare on Satoru. "Do you want to order? I can take yours."
He gaped a bit at that but his face quickly turned stoic. "No, thank you. I was just about to pay and leave."
You nodded took the cup he was just holding on. It was warm. "That will be $4.30."
With a bit of force he pressed a $5 dollar bill on the counter and turned to his seat. While grabbing his things, you could see his eyes focusing on the floor. And you knew there was no reason, but you felt bad. Something about this felt like it was your fault. Like you were overreacting. Even though it was just how you felt.
The door shut softly behind him. He disappeared just as fast as he had appeared.
"Thank you." You whispered to Utahime, and she smiled at you gently.
Truth be told, you wouldn't call her a close friend. You just knew her through Shoko, since she was your roommate and Utahime was a couple of times over. Thus you knew her still over Satoru.
But she did help you get this job and was always a pleasant coworker.
"No problem. You want to share it over a cup of coffee?" she winked at you while leaning on the counter.
"Are you working over there?" the voice of your boss echoed through the room. "Get to work!"
Utahime rolled her eyes. She spoke now in a careful whisper. "I guess after work?"
Well, it wouldn't hurt to have a person who wasn't so close with Satoru, would it?
"I would like that."
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Spring 1995
"Come on sweetie, say hello to Satoru."
You held onto the leg of your mother as you stared at this strange boy. There was something ominous about his eyes and his white hair. You had never seen someone like him before. And he had that intimidating look...
"Hi."
Your mother placed a hand on top of your head, laughing a bit as you tightened your grip on her. "Good job. Now go play with him, while we make the cake ready, okay?"
You looked up to her and nodded. She smiled back and gave you a small nod, signaling you to let her leg go. With a heavy heart you let her go into the kitchen with the other woman, who she called Mrs. Gojo.
You looked back at the boy, who was still staring at you with those intimidating eyes. Why did your mother bring you with her again? She said something along the lines, it would be important to fit into the new neighborhood and greet them properly. But right now?
You just stood there awkwardly, trying to understand this strange boy.
He would probably never speak to you, you just hoped the time would pass as quickly as possible. You wanted to eat the cake Mrs. Gojo made as a welcoming gift...
He opened his mouth and closed it again. His eyes now focused onto the ground before he started to speak;
"Do you like Digimon??"
He looked at you with big eyes, which suddenly didn't seem intimidating at all. He fidgeted with his hands, while tilting his head.
"I guess... But I don't know much about it."
His eyes lit up and he smiled so excitedly. "That's not a problem! I can show you!"
And just like that he took your hands, pulling you with him into his room. The room was big, much bigger than your own. There were a couple of posters, of what you guessed were some mons, you didn't know.
He let go off your hand to pull out a big box. And when he opened it, there were a couple of cards inside, which you had never seen before.
"What are these?"
"I will tell you, just sit down." he let himself fall down next to the box, now going through the cards. He took a couple of them out and looked at them each individually.
You carefully sat down, while watching him. His big blue eyes had an excited glint in them and his white hair was shining under the light.
Satoru Gojo was a strange neighbor...
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Fall 2009
"And he just left you alone at this club?" Utahime frowned, while placing her cup of coffee down. "And he forgot about it?"
You shrugged, glancing outside the window. It had stopped to rain in the afternoon. You were free now, since your and Utahime's shift had ended and you were glad Satoru didn't come back.
"I guess he did."
She shook her head and scoffed. "And now he comes to your doorstep-"
"Well actually, it is not mine but the coffee shops-"
"-asking why you are ignoring him? The nerve!"
A loud sip later she continued; "Gojo has to be humbled, my god!"
You couldn't help but smile at her antics. It was kinda sweet how she got so worked up over your business. You were glad she wasn't just on his side. You watched her sip again and sighed. "If it wasn't for that guy who drove me home, who would guess what could've happened?"
She huffed.
"If I'm being honest I would reflect upon the whole friendship. It just shows how self absorbed he is."
You sipped on your bitter coffee.
"Yeah, well he is still Satoru."
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Summer 2003
"Wait for me outside later, okay?"
You smiled as you read the note Satoru had left on your windowsill. There was just such a feeling of excitement every time you read one of his notes, it made your heart race and your face hot.
That was normal right?
"Mum!" you ran into the living room, hoping to catch her before she went to get groceries. "Did you get me the kimono for the festival??"
She way already ready to leave as she sighed at your question. "Yes, sweetie I did. And I also told you that yesterday."
"Can you help me lat-"
"Yes, I will help you get it on, now shoo." she laughed and pointed towards the kitchen. "Young madam, you can worry about the firework after you did the dishes!"
You gasped as you remembered the mountain of dirty dishes you had to clean before the evening and started rushing towards the kitchen. "Already on it Mum!"
You heard her laugh as the door shut behind her leaving you alone. You let the water run into the sink, while organizing the dishes. You took a sponge and started cleaning the plates, which never seemed to end.
Oh, how excited you were for later! It was your first real festival here and Satoru had promised to show you around. And there would be fireworks, now; in summer! Your first own kimono, and your first time visiting a festival you would spend with a friend.
You placed the finished plates next to the sink, taking a towel to dry them. After you finished them, you sat down before the TV and watched what was on.
You didn't even notice how fast the time passed, til you heard the door click from the keys from your mother. You looked at the clock to see it was already 18:30 and shrieked.
"Mum, mum, can you help me now!! Pleaseee?" You jumped out of your seat on the couch and sprinted towards her, looking at her with the eyes you put on when you begged for something.
"Yeah, you can go into my room while I organize the groceries, okay? The kimono is in the closet." she took of her jacket while smiling at you exhausted.
"Okay!" and just like that you turned around and ran into the small room of your mother.
Her closet was always something magical, if it were the high heel or the jewelry you tried to put on while she was away. Your heart was beating fast as you opened it slowly. As you saw it you gasped.
The kimono dress was so pretty. Almost to pretty. You gently took it between your fingers, gasping at the soft fabric. You liked it. You really did. But...
Was it maybe to pretty for you? To fancy?
"Alright, sweetheart." your mother clapped one time as she stepped in, a soft smile on her face. "Let's make you ready, okay?"
"Yeah.." you took a look in the mirror on the cupboard of your mother and tried to imagine, just imagine, what Satoru would say if you were completely overdressed. You tried to shake it off, trying to get as excited as before, but you just couldn't. The excitement gave a bit of space away for the growing doubt and fear.
Maybe you should play sick...
"Alright, firstly try to put the under dress on and i will help you with putting the kimono dress over and so on." she chuckled and took the kimono out of your hands, eyeing it. She placed it onto her bed gently and went up to the door again. "I will go outside while you change. Just call me when you need help."
"Okay."
You sighed as she closed door, eying the under dress you had picked out. But even though you didn't feel comfortable anymore and the ball of doubt in your stomach was eating you up, you still took of the other clothes and slipped into the under dress.
You didn't like how it fit you anymore. Your stomach hurt. Why did it suddenly hurt?
"Everything alright, sweetie?" the voice of your mother was filled with a slight tone of concern.
"Yeah, you can come in." you glanced at the pretty kimono dress on the bed and feared how it would look on you.
"Okaaay-" she stepped back in and smiled as she saw you. "Perfect! Then let me put the kimono dress on."
She helped you into the kimono dress, watched as the ends of the dress fell onto the ground. Focused, she took the ends and checked something before she tightened it.
"What are you doing, mum?"
"Hace to check if it is above your ankles. It shouldn't touch the ground while tightened." she stood up and patted your dress a bit down. "It's supposed to be a bit big up here."
Her concentrated face was a sight to see, while she adjusted how the dress was sitting. She took a step back and gently placed the obi on the rope which was tightening the kimono. After it was sitting she took a step back again and whistled. "Such a pretty lady!"
The dress was comfortable, even if you felt a bit out of place in it.
"Soooo-" your mother turned you to the mirror, making you sit down on the bed. "Now your hair."
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Fall 2009
You threw your bag onto the wardrobe as soon as you stepped into your apartment, groaning from exhaustion.
"Someone's grumpy." a playful laugh rang softly. Shoko poked her head out of the kitchen watching you take your jacket and shoes off.
"You could've warned me that he will visit my workplace, you know?" you grumbled while pushing softly past her to get into kitchen. She huffed with a small smile on her face.
"I would've, if you talked to me."
"God, I need a hot tea..." you shook your head while turning on the kettle. "It's raining cats and dogs outside. And of course it only started again, after I left the shop."
Shoko chuckled a bit, now making her way over to the fridge. "I wanted to make noodles today, do you want to eat with me?"
The kettle rang again, making a smile steal its way onto your face. "If you have enough for two?" You poured yourself a cup of tea, the water changing its color to light red.
Today you chose fruit tea.
"Yeah, don't worry." she opened the fridge and took her orange juice out of it. "Just missed eating and talking with you."
You took a sip out of your tea and sighed at the heavenly warmth flooding you shortly after.
"You're not going to talk about Satoru, are you?" you turned around to her, to see her sigh as she closed the fridge.
"Only if you want to." She took a glass and poured herself orange juice into it. "But I don't need to. I mean, if I'm being honest, it wasn't the nicest thing of me to pressure you to into talking about it."
She sipped a bit, smiling a reminiscing smile. "Was just worried about you and him, since he was constantly texting and venting to me about his worries."
"Oh."
You sat down at the table, cup of tea in your hand and just warmed yourself. Shoko sat down at the opposite side, tilting her head a bit. "Utahime texted me a couple minutes ago. Asked if you made it home safely."
You couldn't help but smile at that. "Greet her from me and you can reassure her that I made it."
Shoko nodded and started typing on her phone. A couple of seconds later she began to smile at her phone and looked up at you. "Hey, Utahime and I wanted to meet up here tomorrow to watch some movies. You wanna join?"
"Yeah, sure." you watched as she typed a new message and hit send.
"Great!" Shoko rested her head on her left hand, while she held her phone in the other. "Oh, and I can give you her number if you want to? She told me that you had a lovely conversation."
You laughed a bit before pulling your phone out. "I would love to have her number." And just after a couple of minutes you had Utahime's contact and a meet up tomorrow.
"Alright." Shoko put her phone away and stood up, making her way over to the stove. "Enough with that, the noodles don't make themselves!"
You watched as she cooked, a comfortable silence making it's way into the room. Something inside you had changed after you had spoken with Utahime. Something inside you was happy. Happy you weren't alone in your frustration and anger towards Satoru. That your feelings were valid.
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Summer 2003
You waited a long time.
You stood alone before the entrance of the festival, waiting for Satoru just like he had asked you to. People were going by, most of them older than you. Some of them stopped to ask you if you were okay, only leaving if you reassured them you were alright.
You felt anxious like never before. Satoru was late.
"Hey, are you okay?" a boy probably in your age stopped by, just like the people before him.
"Yeah, I'm just waiting." you smiled at him, trying to convince him, but he frowned.
"For what?"
"My friend." you muttered, trying to keep your calm. You didn't want to think about what your long wait could mean.
"But I have seen you standing here an hour ago, are you sure your friend is still coming? If they aren't and you keep waiting, you will miss the fun." the boy pouted.
You watched the next people going by, a couple walking by while holding hands. You heard some whispers about the fireworks and you couldn't help it, tears were starting to build up.
You knew it was dumb. But today you had wanted to say it. You had wanted to say it to him during the fireworks. You had wanted that, but he seemed to have forgotten you were waiting for him...
"I've to go, my parents are calling for me." the boy looked behind him, before he turned to you again. "Try to enjoy your stay here, okay?"
Then he just ran away.
Just like that you were standing there alone again. You felt so stupid for getting dressed up, to care so much about this. Why did you care so much?
And even though you didn't feel like it, you followed the boys advice and walked into the festival.
The stands looked fun and they had cool prices. You saw an older guy win a plushy for his friend, shoetly after placing a small kiss on his cheek. You looked away shortly, feeling like a creep for watching them.
And even though it all looked fun, it didn't feel like it when you were walking here alone.
"Hey, do you want a candy apple?" A woman called out behind a stand, smiling at you.
"Oh, no thank you, I don't have that much money." you apologized but she shook her head, waving fo you to get closer. So you did slip through the people in your way to the stand.
"Don't worry, it's on the house." she winked as she gave you one candy apple.
With a bit of hesitation you took it from her. But you weren't hungry, so you just kept it in your hand while continuing to walk.
And after a long walk you finally reached the watch place of the fireworks. It was under a hill, there were already many people, sitting and talking with each other. And after you saw that you couldn't keep the tears in.
You cried hot tears, because you felt so stupid.
While sitting down on a bench on top of the hill, you gripped your candy apple. The ugly sobbing just didn't stop, didn't matter how much you tried to stiffle it. Oh god, why couldn't you stop-
"Hey." His voice startled you. But even though it was loud because of the people you knew it was Satoru who spoke from behind you.
"Please don't cry." he walked up next to you, sitting down next to you onto the bench. But you couldn't look at him. Not when you still had tears in your eyes.
"You are late." your voice was hoarse, god it was so embarrassing.
He was silent for a couple of seconds. Then he spoke;
"I know, I'm sorry. I wanted to get you flowers but-" he stopped and turned to another direction. "The flower shop was closed and I didn't know. So I - Well, I -"
You blinked at him, the last tears flowing down. And then he turned to you and you saw them. Daisies. He hold onto just a few of them. They weren't fresh, most of them already hanging their heads.
But that somehow made them even prettier.
"I wanted to bring you Daisies." he muttered and looked down at them.
You couldn't help but softly laugh, the sobbing dying out. Your cheeks were drying, and your candy apple didn't seem like your last holding point anymore.
"Thank you, Satoru." you whispered with still a hoarse voice. "But why Daisies?"
That's when a loud bang made you look up into the sky. The first firework was raining upon the sky, the red lights illuminated the sky, painting a beautiful picture.
"They make me think of you."
You turned to Satoru and for the first time tonight looked him in the eyes. His beautiful eyes. The fireworks somehow made them even more gorgeous.
"I'm sorry I came late, I really am." he glanced at the candy apple in your hands. "You probably enjoyed the evening more without me."
Another bang made you look up again. The new firework was a yellow one, looking like it was raining gold from the sky.
"Do you want it?" you held the sweet apple in front of him. "I don't really want it."
He blinked at you, his face going from guilt to embarrassment. "You can't do that!" He muttered. "You can't just give me your candy apple."
A purple firework lit up the sky again. You tilted your head as you looked at him. "Why is that? You like sweets."
He wanted to say something, but only seconds after, he did take your candy apple. He handed you the Daisies, which were changing color through the lights. Just like his hair.
He hesitated, but bit into the candy apple, while holding it with one hand. It looked a bit clumsy but also endearing.
You felt tired but something inside you was so happy. Yeah, he was late. So what? He still cared about you. And that was what counted in the end.
You could feel him glance at you as you looked into the sky watching the different colors exploding and painting the dark night. And then you felt it.
His hand engulfing yours.
"You look pretty in that kimono."
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Fall 2009
"Satoru, stop drowning yourself in the shower, I have to shower too!"
Satoru groaned at the voice of his roommate and friend. The cold water was so relaxing, like it was washing a bit of his uneasiness away.
Of the girl he made out with that Friday.
"Chill, I'm almost finished." he called out while going through his wet hair again, while the water rained down.
God, the weekend was awful. You just hadn't left his head, he couldn't believe that he did what you accused him of doing. He didn't remember that Friday precisely. He had probably drank too much. There was only one thing he surely remembered.
There was this guy who had flirted with you while you were working in the coffee shop that Friday. God, the way he looked at you made him want to-
The rest of that day was vague. He remembered that girl that was clinging to him. She wasn't really his type but he was drunk so he had let her kiss him. But he didn't know what else he did. But to just forget you? That didn't sound like himself.
"Satoru!" Suguru called out again.
"I'm coming!" Satoru turned of the shower with a huff. He took his things and dressed himself in sweatpants and a hoodie.
"Someone has to make sure you don't do something stupid." Suguru muttered as Satoru stepped out of the bathroom.
"Well, it's not you, you do equally stupid things." he grinned at his best friend and stepped to the side, to make space for him. "The shower is yours."
"Yeah, yeah, Satoru."
Suguru disappeared into the bathroom, lifting a heavy weight of Satoru's shoulders. He didn't want to keep worry his friend. Yeah, he felt shitty but he didn't have to make it everyone's problem. Oh well, he tried not to.
His room was dirty. He hadn't left it the last three days, only to shower and to get food and water. He had watched every comforting movie, but even those weren't helping, since he just remembered they were always comforting because he had watched them with you. Whose reactions can he watch when he is sitting alone in his room?
Normally Satoru would call himself as a rather put well together person. But when it came to you, he acted irrational, dumb, stupid, overall he was just not thinking. With you the emotions were always stronger, didn't matter if good or bad. And he knew that wasn't healthy.
But he didn't know how to change it.
He didn't want to have bad things between the two of you. He wanted to make it right, to make you look at him again. But he also didn't want to push your boundaries anymore. Even though it was itching in his fingers to get up and go to your work to apologize.
But that wouldn't work, he knew that. So he had to apologize differently.
Ring!
His phone buzzed and for a slight second he hoped it was you. But it wasn't. It was that privat unknown number that kept calling him, even though he ignored it.
And he knew he shouldn't, but his energy was low, so he just answered. "Hello? Who is there?"
There was a bit of rustling on the other side and a gasp could be heard. "Satoru, I gave you my number, didn't I?" It was a female voice he couldn't quite decipher. "Didn't you safe it?"
"I'm sorry, -" he felt a bit uneasy at the tone of the voice. "But who are you?"
There was a second gasp. "You wound me Satoru! After we had such a lovely evening..." Her voice went a bit lower. "Oh, wait... Did you forget me?"
Her giggling after that made him confused. "Anyway, I'm Haoka, silly!"
"Well, I don't know you, so please stop calling me." He was already on the button to end the call as she called out; "Wait! You really don't remember? We were together that Friday, in the 'Crying Angel', that club."
Oh god, he wanted to face-palm himself. Why did he give anyone there his number?
"We shared some glasses of wine and some of the fun stuff the bartender brought..."
Slowly some memories came back. Pictures of him sitting in that uncomfortable couch, but feeling so at peace...
"And then you pulled me onto your lap and kissed me-"
He remembered vaguely how he felt something big and warm against his chest as he had zoned out. He knew he had made out with some girl beforehand, but that he gave her his number...
"Haoka, was it? I'm sorry but I was literally drunk out of my mind, would you stop harassing me?" He heard her be quiet for once. "Thank you."
"Wai-" he stopped the call and sighed.
Well, he had to apologize to you somehow.
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A week later
"L/n!" you flinched as you heard your manager call out to you from the door of the coffee shop. You sighed to yourself while walking to your workplace. It was 8.30am foe God's sake. Couldn't you just walk to work in peace without being told to hurry?
"I'm coming!" you called out, and walked a bit faster. A couple of seconds later you were on the doorstep of the little shop.
"New flowers came for you." your manager shook her head while pointing to the counter. "That's nice and all, but if you can, tell the one who is sending them, that they should send them to your address and not to ours, okay? I'm not always here to get them for you."
There on the counter they were. Fresh, healthy daisies, waiting for you.
"Yeah, sorry." you muttered and disappeared into the changing room. Behind the closed door you wanted to sink into the floor. And you wanted to die from embarrassment, because there was also a bit of giddiness in side your stomach.
Dumb.
After you changed you walked behind the counter, the white flowers were shining up to you. And of course there was a small note attached, just like with the rest. The last days, there was written:
I'm sorry. I know I was an ass.
Is there something I can do? I don't want us to fall apart.
Can we talk?
They were always small notes and you wished you didn't, but you did keep them with you. The last nights you always read them again and wondered if you should call him. Taking your phone and staring at it for half an hour. But in the end you always chickened out.
The coffee shop door opened and Utahime came in, yawning. "Good morning."
"Good morning." you smiled at her as she came up to you. "Slept well?"
She scoffed while taking of her bag from her shoulder and placing it behind the counter next to you. "Don't even start."
She was already turning to go to the changing room, when she stopped in her tracks. Her look hanging on the new flowers in the small vase. She rolled her eyes and scoffed again. "He's still sending them?"
"Yeah." you kept your gaze on the white flowers.
"You know, I don't want to influence you too much. You know I was never a fan of Satoru." Utahime was whispering now, her voice gentle. "But don't let him pressure you with these gifts, okay? If you want to talk to him, do it, but don't forget what he did just because of some pretty flowers."
There was something big in your throat. You tried to swallow it, you really did, but it just didn't succeed. So you spoke with a hoarse voice; "Okay, I won't."
She smiled softly before she turned and went into the changing room.
You knew there was a new note. But you were so scared to look at it. Because even though he wasn't here, it was still a confrontation with Satoru. And you were scared of talking to him right now, because you knew how sentimental you can get when it came to Satoru.
You didn't want to keep thinking about him. Especially at work when you were alone with your thoughts and the coffee. But with these flowers beside you it was impossibile to think of anything or anyone else.
You wanted to know. Wanted to know how he responded to your lack of response.
Carefully, you separated the note from the flower it was attached to. The flower was the only one whose head was slightly hanging. The paper felt like fire in your hands. You heard Utahime's steps towards the counter and you knew she had seen what was in your hands. But she didn't act like she saw, she just turned to the door waiting for a costumer to come in. So you opened it.
You couldn't help it. You've got to know.
Are we still friends? - G. S.
Your eyes were starting to burn, your vision blurring before your eyes. You couldn't, you shouldn't but you did. You started to tear up.
"Hey, you okay?" You heard Utahime's soft whisper next to you. You wanted to answer, you really did, but your mouth didn't let you.
Utahime started to move again as she heard you sob one more time and went into the back rooms. You didn't hear it loud and clearly but you could decipher the words she spoke to your manager.
"L/n isn't feeling well. She-" The door shut completely behind her and you didn't hear more.
You tried to catch your breath, however it seemed impossible. Slowly you took a breath in, a breath out. In. Out.
It was 9 am. You were at work. Everything was okay.
"Hey." You didn't notice Utahime was next to you again, missing her steps towards you. "I spoke to her, you can go."
"What?" you looked up at her in surprise.
She sighed. "I hate to say it, but it won't get better if you don't talk it out with him. You don't have to do it today, but you are obviously not in the right state to sit here next to these flowers for hours, or are you?"
You slightly shook your head head. She smiled softly. "Then get going."
For a second you just blankly stared at her. But then it hit you. You could leave. Should leave. And today you would do it. You would talk to him and speak your whole mind. Yeah, you would tell him how you felt after the last confusing years, where he treated you like the sun one second and like shit the next. Not tomorrow. Today.
"Thank you." you hurried to the changing room, poking your head out before closing it. "Thank you!"
You heard her laugh, while you hastly changed. The apron was off in seconds, you had to stop and take a breath, before you opened the door again.
You hurried to take your bag and as you arrived back at the counter, your gaze fell onto the flowers on the counter. It was dumb. But you took them out of the vase and held them dearly to your heart.
"Get well soon." Utahime winked at you as you stood at the door. You gulped, but smiled back.
"I'll try.
-------> At home
The door was shut fastly behind you, you hurried to the kitchen to get the flowers a small cup as a vase. There was a small blue one, which was also not too small, so you took it. Filled it with water, as your eyes fell onto a note on the fridge.
Will be away for the whole day, medicine exam is eating me up - Shoko
Oh. Shoko was with her study group. Medicine was a hard major. But to be honest right now you didn't really think much about it. The only thing in your mind was the phone in your bag.
You placed the little cup-vase onto the kitchen table. The daisies were smiling at you, just like they were six years ago.
You wanted to smile back but it didn't feel like the time for that.
Your hand took your phone out of your bag. You watched as you fiddled with it. Wondering if maybe you should do it tomorrow, since you were pretty exhausted-
No. Today.
Your fingers were shaking as you typed his number. Hesitating before the dialing button. But in the end you did press it.
Your anxiety rose by thousands as you heard the dialing tone. And by the third time it rang you wanted to hang up, until -
"Hello?"
His voice was a bit hesitant and quiet. You were shaking, wondering why you called him, without thinking what words precisely to say, why did you just call him without any plan-
"Stop sending flowers to my workplace." your voice was slightly shaking, just like your hands. "My manager can't keep picking them up."
"Oh." it was very quiet on the other side. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause you trouble with them."
A silence made it's way into the call. You heard him breath and you were sure he heard your anxious breathing too. God, this whole idea was a mess.
"Hey." he spoke again. "Do you want to talk about it? Are you ready to talk about it?"
...
"Yeah, I'm ready." your voice was a whisper.
The second silence followed, this one even a bit more tense.
"Can I come over, or is that to much?"
Your breath hitched, suddenly this seemed so real. You were stupid for it but you did miss him. You wanted to see him.
"It's okay." you muttered and heard a relieved sigh from him.
"Good, because I am almost there."
And just like that he hung up. Leaving you standing dumbfounded in your kitchen, the realization slowly settling. Wait, he meant immediately? You didn't think he would be already on his way, you still didn't know what to say!
God, you needed a tea.
Today was a green tea day. You worked your kettle, trying to keep your cool. But it was near impossible. How could you remain calm, when Satoru was coming over? Satoru, who was usual never wanting to have a serious talk?
Ring
You looked at your kettle, only to realize it had been the doorbell. Okay. It was time.
You opened the door of your apartment, to see a soaked Satoru standing before you, breathing heavy.
"Sorry for the rush, I didn't want to intimidate you." he muttered while his eyes were locked onto the ground. "I just had to see you in person."
"It's alright." Well, he still intimidated you, but in the end you wanted to see him in person too. At least you think you did, when you look at his wet, but still gorgeous hair. At his blue ocean like eyes. It was just Satoru.
You let him into your apartment, hurrying to your kettle, who was now ringing too. You heard him shut the door, as you poured yourself a cup of tea, watching as the water turned green.
His steps echoed through the apartment, until he stood there, in the doorframe of the kitchen. His eyes now locked onto you as you glanced at him. You took your tea cup and sat down at the table. Gesturing with your hand that he should sit down too. He did.
You saw him gulp, but he kept quiet. You took a long sip.
"So?"
His eyes widened a bit. Then he cleared his throat. "I wanted to apologize to you. Like, really apologize. I know I messed up."
You could see his hands fidgeting but he still kept his eyes on you.
"I don't remember what I was thinking. And I mean that literally, I drank so much that I didn't remember even going to this club." he shook his head. "Not that that excuses anything. My first mistake was drinking carelessly. And I'm so-"
"Why did you?" you stopped him. He tilted his head a bit as you looked at him. "You treated me horrible that evening. You left me alone at the entrance of that club, drank your brain away and then disappeared. Why did you leave me alone at the entrance, why did you drink so much?"
His body tensed up and you knew you struck a nerve.
"And you know that's not the first time." you muttered. "It's like three years ago, when you suddenly made that shift to treat me horrible and then dropped me as a friend."
Silence made itself into the room.
"And then you come back to apologize and want everything to go back as it were, but it doesn't." you whispered. "I can pretend that it does, but it doesn't. Because I just don't feel appreciated as a person. For you I'm always-" Your voice broke a bit.
"For you I'm always just the safe backup. Because I always forgive you and you know it."
"That's not true." Satoru tried to grab your hands on the table, but you pulled them away. Any form of contact right now would kill you.
"Then what is it, Satoru? It feels like you never told me."
His eyes faced the table, now looking like he was sick. His posture was stiff as he fidgeted more with his fingers.
"I'm an idiot, you know?" he was mumbling. "A coward and a selfish idiot."
"What are you talking about?" you gripped onto your warm teacup. He looked at your hands, a nervous chuckle escaping him.
"It's just -" he stopped. While looking at you he shook his head and abruptly stood up. Speaking with his hands on his face, his voice a bit muffled but still understandable. "I want you to know that everything I will say is not me trying to justify my behavior, okay? I just - I own you an honest explanation."
You looked at him, as he seemed to hide himself behind his hands. You were scared. Scared of what he will say. But you knew you also wanted and needed to know. "Alright, then tell me Satoru."
It's silent again, the only thing you heard was the sound of a neighbor's key falling outside of the Appartement. Satoru was messing with his hair, while he avoided to look at you. You could see the gear wheels in his head working, trying to make out what to say. He took a sharpy breath.
"Every time I notice that we are growing more together or become closer, it's just so, -" he shook his head. "It's so scary. Because I notice how I start to feel and act and I -, well I get cold feet and try to push you away. Because I know, that it's stupid for me to feel how I feel, and I don't want to lose our friendship and-"
"Wait, wait, wait." you raised your hand. "You're pushing me away because you don't want to lose our friendship?"
He groaned. "It's stupid I know and in the last years I have become better, but it's just-, god, every time I see someone flirting with you and you look so happy, my emotions become so big and I get angry with everything."
"Satoru what do you mean? Why would you - I don't understand." now it was your turn to hide your head behind your hands.
"That Friday, before we went to that club together. I have seen you with that guy, who bought you a drink at your workplace. And you laughed so much, I just felt so shitty because I realized-" his voice is shaking. "I realized that I still have feelings for you."
The world seemed to stop spinning. You raised your head in slow motion and looked at him. His blue eyes were locked on you, showing vulnerability. You couldn't help but just stare at him.
"And I got scared!" his voice got a bit louder as he started pacing down the kitchen. "Because I have been in the friend zone my entire life and I thought I could live with that. But everything was so much, I saw red and just wanted to hide. I wanted to snap out of that feeling so I left you standing at the entrance."
He stopped pacing, his back now turned to you. "It's the same every time. I want to keep our friendship, but push you so far away that we become strangers."
"You really are an idiot."
You didn't notice until you spoke, that you were crying. Ugly sobbing filled the room, you felt like suffocating. "Not once did you ask yourself how I felt. You just wanted to keep yourself safe, didn't you?"
You could see his back tensing. You shook your head. "You made me feel like I was the friend you only kept in touch with, because our parents know each other. You made me feel so dumb for wanting to spend time with you. That's not how you treat someone you have feelings for!
You could have just told me."
He scoffed, now turning around. "Would we be still be friends if I did? "
"No."
You looked at the green tea in your cup. "We would be more."
You could hear his breath hitch. And in seconds he was standing in front of the table again. You felt his gaze on you. "What do you mean?"
You laughed while tears were streaming down your cheeks. "Satoru it was so obvious for everyone else. Why do you think I have forgiven you every time, no matter what you did?
I have feelings for you."
The silence came back. And with a silent sigh he sat down before you again, hwad in his hands again. "Why did you never tell me?"
"Why did you never tell me? Because I was scared of ruining our friendship. And you always seemed to have zero feelings for me that we're not platonic." you sobbed again, making him flinch. You saw his hand twitch, but this time he didn't move it.
"Please, don't cry." he was whispering with such care in his voice you wanted to cry harder. "Not over my stupidity."
A small try of a laugh escaped you. "I'm always crying over your stupidity, Satoru." you shook your head. "But also mine. I could have confessed too, but I didn't because I was scared. I'm sorry."
He moved a bit closer, his chair now as near as possible. "Don't apologize -"
"But I am sorry. Because now I don't know how to feel and..." you stopped, trying to catch your breath. "I want to forgive you, but I'm just so scared and -"
That's when Satoru stood up again. You watched through your blurry vision how he made his way to you, going around the table. There he stood looking at you with something so big, something so mighty in his eyes.
Carefully his hands made it's way next to your face, drying your tears and caressing your face.
"I know that I will do everything to deserve your forgiveness. No pushing away, no riddles."
He wiped your hair out of the way and placed a soft kiss onto your forehead.
"But I don't think I want to be friends anymore."
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Deleted scene:
"I thought I should stop sending them." Satoru had his signature grin on his face, while looking at the daisies on the table. "But you do like them!"
"I didn't say you should stop sending them, I said you should stop sending them to my workplace." you kept your gaze on the white flowers in front of you, even though you felt him staring at you. "And I didn't want you to think that you could buy my forgiveness."
"Oh, I never thought that! I just wanted to you to know that I thought of you." his close body raised a hand to take on of the daisies. "You remember that day at the festival?"
"Of course I do." you snorted. "I thought you were stupid for bringing daisies and claiming that they remind you of me, when they are white flowers."
He gasped dramatically. "Stupid? That was my heart laid out in front of you!"
You couldn't help but laugh at his playful 'hurt' face. "Then why do they remind you of me?"
"You were always new beginning."
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sugarushwriting · 2 months ago
Text
cherry popper
heeseung x reader
getting your cherry popped by popular f-boy, lee heeseung
adult content featured, read at your own discretion
requests are open
tonight, you were on a mission. on a mission to get rid of your virginity! maybe a frat party wasn’t the best place to lose your virginity, but you knew who you wanted to take it.
lee heeseung.
except you didn’t know if he cherry popped girls or wanted them already experienced.
you couldn’t blame him or any guys though if they preferred not to be the one to take a girl’s virginity. there was a bad stigma around girls who had sex for the first time.
they became attached. needed rose petals and slow sex. needed to cuddle afterwards.
well, not you. at your age, you just wanted it out of the way. the term “virginity” was stupid anyway.
you’ve heard the good things about lee heeseung when it comes to his bed activities. so why not lose your virginity to a guy who was 99% sure to make you come your first time?
there’s nothing more depressing than having your first time be with a guy who is terrible in bed.
your friend knocked on your forehead with a laugh. “you okay?”
you nodded with a smile. “still on the hunt.”
“he’ll be here any minute. just remember, don’t pounce on him. you have to seem mysterious. he’s never seen you here before, so just seem uninterested. he’ll come to you.”
“got it!” you nodded and took a small sip of your cup. you didn’t want to be drunk or even tipsy, but just wanted enough to calm your nerves.
you’ve heard how alcohol ruins some people’s sex drives. even heard the term, ‘whiskey dick,’ so you’re hoping heeseung doesn’t suffer from that.
forty minutes passed, and you still hadn’t seen heeseung, giving up to even look for him. you sighed and looked at your friend.
“i’m going to the bathroom.”
“need me?”
you shook your head. “i’ll be fine.”
you made your way up the stairs, following your friends directions to the bathroom upstairs. your pink miniskirt for sure was covering nothing of your behind, but your friend convinced you to show more skin than usual. your baby tee was tight and short, perfectly flaunting your chest.
once you finished in the bathroom, you quickly gave yourself a once over look in the mirror and opened the door, only to run into a tall figure.
well if that wasn’t perfect timing and a coincidence by the universe.
“hmp, sorry!” you huffed out looking up to eye heeseung.
“no worries baby. haven’t seen you around here before?” he smiled.
oh damn he was a smooth talker.
“oh yeah—first party, with, um, my friend.” you stuttered out.
there was no need for you to pretend to be all shy around him. his aura made you shy. you still had to force yourself to not outright ask, ‘hey heeseung, can you take my virginity?’
all heeseung was doing was smiling at you and you felt intimated. how the fuck were you gonna get this man in bed?
heeseung proved to be easy.
his eyes flipped from your eyes to your lips, back to your eyes, suddenly wanting a taste of the girl who’s never been to a party before. who he has never seen before.
his thumb traced your bottom lip, his own bottom lip being caught between his teeth. “i saw you downstairs with your friend, and thought to myself, ‘damn she’s hot as fuck.’” heeseung whispered out to you.
“re—really?” you asked surprised.
how long has he been here? eyeing you? why hadn’t you seen him walk in?
he nodded, “i knew i had to have you.” he said leaning down to kiss your lips with a peck, leaving you wanting more.
yeah, he wanted you for sure because yes, you were cute, but also, fresh-meat at this party. he couldn’t let his friends get to the cute new girl first.
from observation, he could tell you were the shy type, and he was allured even more by you because of that.
the peck left you wanting more. his lips were just so soft. you’ve kissed boys before, but his lips were the softest.
“mhm, wanna make out?”
“are you twelve?” you teased at the way he asked you.
heeseung chuckled. “just trying to be polite.”
you nodded. he grabbed your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. heeseung pulled you to a bedroom at the end of the hall.
surprisingly the room was clean and neat. you’ve seen the horror pictures and movies and videos of frat houses.
your friend had told you, the upstairs was completely off limits and they reinforced it. but if you had to use the bathroom (the clean one) sneak upstairs. she had distracted the guy blocking the stairs.
you stood in the middle of the room awkwardly, after heeseung let go of your hand, walking towards the bed.
he smirked. “no need to be shy.” he patted his lap. “you can come sit.”
he wants you to sit on his lap?
you slowly walked towards him, slowly resting on his lap. your knees on either side of his hips. his own hands went to rest on your hips.
bringing your lips down to meet his, you both started making out like a bunch of horny teens. heeseung took it slow with you at first, before his kisses became more desperate and longing. wanting more from you.
his hands squeezed your hips, catching you off guard, and he took the opportunity to poke his tongue in your mouth.
your hands wrapped around his neck, your lower half beginning to feel a bit wet. heeseungs own lower half was starting to get hard, you able to feel him through his jeans and your short skirt.
you rubbed your lower half against him, heeseung letting out a low gritted moan. “keeping doing that and i will come in my pants.” he gripped your ass from under your skirt.
you smiled against his kisses. “again, what are you? a teenage boy?”
heeseung actually loved the teasing. he squeezed your hips tighter, tickling lightly, causing you to squeal.
he flipped you on your back on the bed so he was hovering over you. his lips never leaving yours, he lifted your skirt up more, pulling your underwear to the side.
his middle finger rubbed circles around your clit and the hole of your cunt, teasing you to get you worked up, slick, and ready for him.
his finger teased at your entrance, he could feel the tightness of you.
although you’ve pleasured yourself a few times, your fingers were in no comparison to heeseung.
heeseungs finger slowly entered you, his lips still not leaving their spot from you, and as he slowly inched deeper, you whined into his mouth at the feeling.
slight sting but feeling good. heeseung slowly added another finger and began pumping his fingers in and out of you, his lips moving to suck on a sweet spot on your neck.
an odd sensation came, you riding heeseungs fingers, feeling your stomach feel tight, your cunt becoming needier.
“ride my fingers, there you go.” heeseung said to you.
you bit your lower lip and an over pleasuring sensation came over you.
did you just come? you thought it’d be more intense than that.
you felt good, and when he went to rub his fingers against your clit, you did feel over sensitive.
you didn’t realize heeseung had left a hickey on your neck.
heeseung removed his fingers from you, standing up to unbutton his belt and pants pulling them and his boxers down.
leaning on your elbows, your eyes widened at his length. aw shit.
heeseung pumped his own length a few times, “mhm, open your mouth.”
“can you be a little nicer?” you asked with a smile.
“please open your mouth?”
you nodded and scooted towards the end of the bed where you sat comfortably while heeseung stood.
you licked his tip, swirling your tongue around the head before slowly taking just the head in between your lips giving it a suck.
“please don’t tease.” heeseung sighed. your mouth just felt too good.
you smiled with his dick in your mouth, opening a bit wider to take his length in as much as you could. your hand stimulating whatever was left over and his balls.
you did have a gag reflex, and you weren’t about to test it now.
“fuck, so good. please come to these parties more often.” heeseung sighed out as your head pumped back and forth against him.
you sucked, your tongue swirling against the underside, your hand putting small pressure on his balls, squeezing just right for him.
heeseungs hand went to the back of your head, and when he pushed a bit for more than you could take, you choked, your gag reflex kicking in.
you pulled away, needing to breathe, a line of your spit between his tip and your lips.
“fuck that was hot. i love a girl with a gag reflex honestly.” heeseung moaned. he took your jaw back in between his hands, his thumb tapping your lower lip to open.
you followed, and he stuffed his dick back into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat, you gagging once again.
heeseung had to control himself to not lose control and just fuck your face.
as you bobbed your head, heeseung also moved his hips back and forth. “mhm, mouth feels so good, i’m gonna come.”
you used your hand to help stimulate what your mouth couldn’t. heeseungs moans became lower and more messy.
“fuck, can i come in your mouth?”
you nodded, and that’s all he needed before hot spurts of his come entered your throat. heeseung let out strings of curse words in pleasure.
“fuck that was hot.” he mumbled, catching his breath.
with your skirt still flipped up, heeseung undressed your lower half completely, and he finished taking off his clothing, grabbing a condom from the pocket of his jeans.
most girls would probably be like, ‘return the favor!’ but if you came one more time without his dick, you wouldn’t have the stanima to go a third round on his dick. tonight, you were okay with giving a blowjob and not getting your pussy ate.
heeseung kissed you, tasting himself, biting your lower lip, all while slipping on the condom.
you hadn’t realized how fast and skilled he was until you felt his head prodding your hole.
“oh fuck!” you whispered. your eyes squeezed shut, one hand gripping his shoulder, the other the bed covers.
“mhm so tight, like no one’s ever fucked this pussy.” heeseung mumbled out.
he slowly eased into you, feeling the warmth and resistance but thought nothing much of it. heeseung thought maybe you just hadn’t been with a guy of his size.
you bit down on your lower lip, the stinging sensation back, you fighting off the feeling of the pain trying to focus on the pleasure.
breathing deeply through your nose, you tried your best to relax, heeseungs eyebrows knitted in confusion and focus.
he slowly moved his length back and forth, feeling your hand tighten on his shoulder.
that’s when it hit him. the tightness and resistance. your eyebrows knitted, eyes closed. your hand having a death grip on him and the bed.
“are you fucking serious?” he said out loud, taking you off guard, you opened your eyes, “are you a virgin?” he narrowed his eyes at you.
a tear dropped down your cheek, you sniffling your nose. “please don’t be mad.” you sighed out a little sob.
heeseung shook his head. “it’s not that im mad, im just—i don’t know.”
regardless, heeseung didn’t pull out, but he didn’t move further. he stayed still inside of you.
you sniffled again. “it’s just—i—i was tired of being a virgin, and i heard about your reputation of being with a lot of girls and being able to please them. i didn’t want my first time to suck, and i debated on telling you, but i didn’t know if you were the type to get an ick when it came to virgins!”
heeseung lowered his head in shame. he couldn’t believe someone who sucked dick so good was a virgin.
“you suck dick too good for a virgin.” he said then raised his eyebrow at you.
you smiled shyly, “i uh, never did that either.”
“fuck! what have you done that i wasn’t your first?”
“i’ve used my own fingers, but of course that doesn’t compare to yours. and yes, i have kissed others before.”
heeseung sighed, “this is bad,”
before he could finish you cut him off, “no! it doesn’t have to be okay? i promise i won’t get attached, i am not expecting anything from you after this okay? i don’t need roses or cuddles either. i know what i’m getting myself into, heeseung.”
“you know my name, but i don’t even know yours. can i at least have the name of the girl’s virginity i took?”
you told him your name. “i’m really sorry, i didn’t mean to undermine you.”
heeseung laughed, “yes you did and it’s honestly okay and kind of refreshing. usually im the one undermining girls.”
all while this conversation went on, heeseung was still hard and sat still in you.
“i’m surprised you’re still hard.”
“my dick is in a tight pussy. a virgin pussy. must have a virginity or corruption kink, i guess.”
“i’m okay. can we please continue, heeseung?”
heeseung nodded slowly. “only if i can be the first one to eat that pussy too.”
you chuckled, “as you wish.”
heeseung began to move, his pace slow. he finished bottoming out, a loud moan leaving your lips, but you tapped his shoulder with two fingers, to let him know to keep going.
heeseung pulled out to his tip, before he bottomed out once again. although you were a virgin, he wasn’t going to be too gentle with you, and you were okay with that.
after a few thrusts it began to feel better. “mhm, feels better heeseung.” you groaned, your head resting to the side.
you wrapped your legs around heeseung, locking him in, your hand resting on his cheek, bringing him down for a kiss.
“can’t believe you let me fuck this pussy first. chose me.” heeseung moaned. “so happy you let me fuck you first. going to ruin you for anyone else. not going to want anyone’s cock but mine.”
heeseung began his spew of dirty talk, which just made you wetter by each statement.
who knew dirty talk would turn you on so much.
“looks like my cherry likes dirty talk.” heeseung laughed as his pace sped up just a bit.
heeseung sat up on his knees, taking you at a different angle so he could reach deeper, and closer to your cervix.
you looked down, able to see the outline of him inside of you. you moaned at the sight.
“look at you. taking me so well. so tiny underneath me. too big for you baby.”
heeseung slightly put pressure on your lower stomach, your legs wrapping tighter, as you lifted your hips.
“gonna make you come on your first cock, cherry.”
“please make me come, hee.” you begged, your mind going blank, your vision blurry with tears of pleasure.
spews of groans, moans, random words leaving your mouth, mixed with heeseungs name.
oh yes, this was the intense orgasm people talked about. what your friends talked about, and gloated about.
heeseungs finger went to rub circles on your clit, adding pressure which tipped you over the edge.
his dick thrusting in and out. the angle of his dick hitting somewhere within you so good. his thumb on your clit. his palm pressing down on your stomach. his dirty talk and praises.
you were overwhelmed with pleasure. and in no time, with one last scream and cry, heeseungs name leaving your lips, you came around his dick.
heeseung helped you ride out your orgasm while he reached his, stilling inside you, emptying into the condom.
heeseung collapsed above you, nose to nose, and he gave you a peck on your lips, then moved his face to the crook of your neck, leaving a kiss there.
he pulled out, your lower half fluttering at the loss of him, both of you moaning from loss of each other.
heeseung rolled on his back, and took off the condom, noting a little blood. when he looked down, no blood was on him, but he was worried about you.
he looked over to you, no blood on the sheets.
“what?” you asked sitting up, feeling a bit of an ache already settling in.
“let’s get you to the bathroom. there was a bit of blood on the condom.”
your face felt hot in embarrassment. “i’m sorry.” you mumbled.
heeseung kissed your forehead. “no need to be embarrassed. it’s normal and it happens.”
heeseung got up and you followed him to the bathroom.
you made sure to empty your bladder, just tiny spotting. you groaned. “i can’t ruin my underwear.” you sighed. this was so embarrassing.
heeseung opened the cabinet, you looked over seeing pads and liners. looking back at him with a glaring expression.
“this is jays bathroom. he’s a romantic, always making sure whatever girl he’s with at the time is covered.” heeseung explained, scratching the back of his head.
“maybe i should have had jay take my virginity then.” you joked.
heeseung didn’t laugh. “absolutely not. you’re off limits to him and any of my friends now.”
crossing your arms, you stared into his eyes, “now who’s the clingy one after taking someone’s virginity?”
“get used to it cherry.”
“cherry?”
“yeah, cause i popped your cherry.”
you pushed his shoulder. “you are so—!”
“sexy? handsome? amazing in bed? i know.”
you both laughed easing any tension or doubts between one another.
heeseung left you to finish your business in the bathroom and get dressed, as he got back dressed in the bedroom.
you felt guilty allowing him to take your virginity—have sex—in his friend’s bed.
when you came out the bathroom you said, “should we offer to wash his bed sheets?”
“don’t worry, he’ll make me wash his sheets, cleanse his room, perform an exorcism.”
you both chuckled opening the door, jay leaning against the opposite wall with his arms crossed, not a happy smile.
“i lock my door for a reason! you’re damn right you’ll be washing my bedding AND performing that exorcism.”
poor jay.
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kaeyas-beloved · 1 year ago
Text
a moment too late
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Characters: Ayato, Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Wriothesley, Zhongli
— your husband doesn't make it to you in time...
CW: ANGST w/ very little to no comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), scars (Diluc), blood (Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Zhongli), death (all except Cyno and Diluc), kidnapping (Cyno), minor Fontaine Act 1 + 4 spoilers (Primordial Sea Water - iykyk), spoilers for Childe’s real name
val's no sympathy novemeber masterlist
I don't know if I can take a month of hurting my boys....
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Thinking about them not making it in time...
Ayato, who had been in an important meeting.
He'd given strict instructions to all his retainers and the Shuumatsuban to not interrupt under any circumstance. So, when one of the newer helpers knocked on the door, the commissioner was less than pleased. Without letting the young man get a word out, Ayato cuts him off, a sharp smile on his face. "Please, wait outside. I'll deal with the matter after this."
When the retainer tried again, a feeble "but, my lord-!" sputtering over his twisted tongue, the change in Ayato's tone couldn't be missed, and it left no room for interjections.
When a second knock echoed through the room some minutes later, it took everything in the clan head not to sigh out loud in front of all the powerful politicians and businessmen. This time, however, when it was the familiar face of Thoma that stepped in, a scarily straight face as his expression, something shifted in the male. It didn't help that the pyro user didn't stop his advancement toward him, even at the call of his name.
It was like the whole world shattered the moment the blond leaned by his ear, the news that you'd been placed in the nearest hospital plummetting his heart into his stomach.
There's this inner struggle that takes over, the role of a leader and your husband fighting against one another - he can't just leave so abruptly, but he also feels like he might crumble if he isn't by your side in the next ten seconds.
It's the firm hand that's placed on his shoulder that breaks him away from his thoughts. Following the arm he meets the slight smile of Thoma, "I have this handled, my lord. Go, be with them."
He's up and out of the room in an instant, briskly walking in the direction of the hospital. When he gets there he borderline demands the receptionist to tell him your room number, off again the moment she gets the last syllable out. Just as he reaches the curtain separating you from him, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, a doctor steps out.
"Lord Kamisato..." his tone is grave as he blocks the entrance with his body. Despite the obvious attempt to stop the young lord from entering, your husband tries to sidestep him. He's stopped by a simple raise of the hand and he feels a mix of disdain and unsettlement swirl within.
"Please, let me speak with them," Ayato nothing but begs, something he never does. He's known as a negotiator, a logical reasoning man, he doesn't need to beg for what he needs in the political world, but for you, his world, he'd gladly grovel at this man's feet just for you.
The aforementioned man licks his lips, adjusting his clipboard so it rests against his chest, "I'm sorry Mr. Kamisato, but that won't be possible..."
The urgency rises and Ayato moves the doctor out of his way, stepping into your room. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together about what was trying to be said, but your lover can't bring himself to believe it. Not you too.
The moment he's at your bedside he leans close, trying to wear a smile as he places his hand on your shoulder, softly shaking you the exact same way he did that very morning. "My dear... wake up. This is no time for your silly tricks, we have to go home and have dinner together like I promised." His warm hands move up to your cheek, brushing his thumb along your equally warm skin, but when you make no move or noise the reality finally sets in for him.
His broken smile slips and all he can manage is a soft call of your name. Of course, there's still no answer, and Ayato is stuck flipping between the different stages of grief.
What if he'd listened the first time? Let the retainer who initially walked in speak? Would he have gotten a chance to speak with you? To tell you he loves you? To say goodbye properly?
You can't actually be dead, right? There's no way this is happening to him again.
He starts to promise to spend more time with you, he'll take off as much time as you want him to, he'll take you to that restaurant you've been wanting to go to but couldn't bring yourself to without him, he'll visit the land of Liyue with you - he knows you've been gushing about the scenery and culture recently. He'll do it all and more, you just had to open your eyes again for him.
Silence.
"Damn it all..." he whispered, face twisting in agony. Of course he couldn't have it his way this time. As if his parents weren't enough, the world just had to take you away from him too.
The doctor watches for a moment as one of the most powerful men in Inazuma sheds tear after tear before him, the droplets falling and hitting your lifeless body. As Ayato sinks to his knees before you, the doctor takes this as his cue to step out.
For the next few hours, the hospital is noticeably quieter, no one daring to interrupt a man who's just lost one of the dearest people to him.
For the next few hours, Ayato's tears slowly soak your shirt, his grip on the bedding knuckle white, his sobs muffled by your skin as it slowly grows colder and colder, fighting to commit everything about you to memory.
That night, he could not bring himself to eat dinner, for all he could remember was you, the way you smiled at him and how it was all ripped away from him, never to be seen again.
———
Diluc, whose connections are spread all over the world yet no one could locate you.
It should be impossible. The owner of Dawn Winery only associates himself with competent business partners. So, how could it be that the best of the best from all walks of life and all backgrounds couldn't locate the one person he needed to find?
Tirelessly, the redhead looked for you. Many sleepless nights weighed on him from shouldering so many responsibilities at once. He constantly asked for updates on the investigation and every time the news that there were no advances was just another layer of stress for him. So, of course, the moment the word of your location reached his ears, Diluc was up and out the door, claymore in hand, a fury in his eyes that few have seen only a handful of times.
When he got there, there being some far corner of Starfell Valley on the mountainside, there was no time to process or ask questions. All he knew was that you needed help if you wanted even a chance of making it out alive.
By a stroke of luck, you managed to escape the Abyss Mages that had been holding you hostage, an atrocious act that was no doubt aimed to make The Darknight Hero suffer. However, weaponless and exhausted, the creatures of down under easily caught up to you, surrounding you and throwing you around like a ragdoll. Diluc counted seven - one hydro, two electro, two cryo and two pyro - each using the elements to keep you from running too far.
With a few swift strikes of his enflamed claymore, the cryo and hydro mages disappeared in a cloud of red and black. Of course, they'd be the easiest of the group to get rid of. The last four would be the real challenge.
In between strikes, Diluc managed to get close to you, bending down to your fallen form. “Are you alright? Can you walk?” He did a once over of your body, noting that dirt clung to you and a couple cuts littered your skin. You could barely move too, having the shit kicked out of you.
“Not very far…” you groaned, raising your body slightly off the ground. Your lover nodded, glancing at the enemy before helping you stand.
“That’s alright, just get to that tree over there. I’ll come get you and take you home soon.” Diluc watches for a moment as you nod and begin to make your way over, turning his back to you once you've made decent progress. Taking up his weapon once more, it's a brutal clash of sparks and fire as he lets his adrenaline and rage fuel his every move. Soon, one electro mage goes down, and then the second and then one of the pyro ones until all that stands between him and getting you medical care and a nice bath is a single pyro Abyss Mage.
The demonic creature cackles loudly, a shrill sound that echoes in the silence. As it begins to wave its staff, a shock of recognition strikes Diluc and he glances around, looking for where the fire-breathing faces are going to appear. When he doesn't spot any dread fills his being and he chances a glance towards you, praying to the Archons that what he's thinking isn't about to play out.
The gods weren't in his favour.
Time seems to slow as he watches the triangle of heads surround you; he watches as you slowly turn to face one head-on, your tired eyes widening as you register the situation. Dilcu's only able to catch you turning your face away before he attacks the mage while its guard is down, interrupting its early dance of victory.
The next few minutes are a blur, both for you and your husband. Everything hurts, any slight movement or breath sends shooting pain through your body. When Diluc picks you up off the ground you let out the most heartbreaking cry he's heard and it took everything in him not to just stand there and soothe you.
He mumbled apology after apology, offering words of comfort as he ran as best he could without harming you further. When he made it to the cathedral he was ushered out of the room, every nun available flocking to your side. Despite the overwhelming emotions building in him, Diluc lets you go, waiting with as much patience as he can muster, which isn't a lot at that moment.
It takes about an hour before a sister approaches him, every second that he waited excruciating. She tells him that while your face was unharmed, you having managed to lean out of the way just in time, your upper arm, shoulder and the base of your neck on your left side were burned pretty bad and that scarring was almost guaranteed.
"But are they alive?" is all he asks in return. He cares that you were hurt, but he cares more to know if you'll live to spend another day with him. All the sister can do is nod, informing him that recovery will be slow, but you are alive. She adds right after that while you passed out from everything he was still allowed to enter and sit by your side. So, he does.
The nun didn't lie when she told him that things would be slow. It took several days before you could be discharged, and even when you were the days and nights that followed were filled with more torture than the usual joy.
Your burns would irritate at the slightest things, and you started to doubt your looks, wondering if your husband would still love you by the end when the wounds were all healed. At night you were haunted by nightmares of your time in captivity, and by the face of the abyss spell that burned you. It didn't help that the face was red and fluffy, just like Diluc's hair, leaving you to back away from him every time you woke up from that recurring dream, your mind tricking you that that thing had come back.
And all Diluc could do was hold you close to his chest once you saw that it was just him. He'd rub a warm hand along your back as you sobbed and shivered, quietly blaming himself for not being fast enough - to find you, to defeat the enemy, to get you out of the way of the fight. If he had been, if he succeeded in any of those things, then maybe you wouldn't have to live with this pain and trauma.
You were alive, but at what cost?
———
Childe, who was all the way in Inazuma for a mission.
Your husband left you that fateful day with a tight hug, a promise to come home and a kiss on the lips. As he walked further and further away from you all you could think about was greeting him in the same fashion. Your touch was his favourite thing after all, a reminder that you're there with him and that you love him despite all his wrongdoings.
The day came when Ajax set foot back in his homeland, and the first thing he did was search for you at the dock. When he didn't spot you, he'll admit he was a little disappointed but didn't think much of it. You were most likely just relaxing at home.
Yet, when he walked through the door he couldn’t find you anywhere. “Strange… where could they have gone? Maybe mom and dad’s?”
A quick trip over there reveals nothing however, just the tidbit of information from his mother on how it’s been a couple days since you’ve visited and that you last told them you were needing to chop some firewood.
Now he was not only confused but a sense of dread plagued his chest. Hoping it’s just his normal worrying, Ajax bids farewell to his family and heads back home. Sure enough, he spotted some stacked logs off to the side. What didn’t make sense though was the lack of an axe and the footprints that lead further into the tree line behind your home.
Following the tracks, the male’s eyes widen and his expression falls as the patterns in the snow go from clean prints to frantic clusters, as if you began running. What really injected fear into him though was the barely visible Treasure Hoarder insignia buried in the snow, its gold sheen glistening from the sun.
At this point his feet had a mind of their own as he picked up the pace, his mind running a mile a minute with the scariest thoughts his brain could conjure.
He wasn’t sure if he should've been relieved or frightened when he found you lying in the snow. Either way, he sprinted the rest of the way to you, calling out your name. You were on your side, back to him; you must’ve rolled into the fetal position to stay warm.
And that’s when he noticed it, the pink tint of the usually pure white snow surrounding your fallen form. Panic shoots through him as he rolls you onto your back, his hand recoiling at the state you were in, covering his mouth.
"No..." your cold gaze stares up at the sky, skin lacking the warmth he craves after a long day. Between the folds of your undone coat reveals where most, if not all the blood flowed from, now dry from days passed. With a shaky hand, he moves the cloth aside, surveying the damage.
The cut was deep but didn't hit anything major from the looks of it... you would have bleed out slow and painfully, and the mere idea makes him sick to his stomach. More and more he looks at the damage done to you and the more his blood boils and his heart stutterers. You were innocent, his spouse, his best friend, you had no intimate dealings with Fatui work, so why you?
His eyes narrow back in the direction of the insignia, the sorrow morphing into anger; they were fucking cowards, going after you instead of him. At the sanctuary of your home no less.
Looking back at the body that once housed your soul, he noticed something odd about your hand. It was clasped shut like you were holding onto something.
He starts to pry your fingers open, and for just a moment he can imagine that you're alive, back in the warmth of your home, grasping his scarf in a game of keep away. He'd pull you close, wrapping an arm around you and trapping you to his chest, grasping your wrist and trying to get the red fabric from you. Your husband would laugh merrily, "demanding" that you give him it back or else, to which you'd tell him no, because as long as you had it then he couldn't leave for the day.
When your palm finally opens up is the same moment time really stops and the world doesn't feel real around him. Picking up the small object, Ajax clasps it in his own hands, bringing it close to his chest - his heart - in hopes of feeling just the last bit of you left behind. He won't ever know this, but what he's doing now was exactly what you did in your final hour - you held the tangible promise you made with him close to you, your thoughts filled with him and only him as you took your last breath.
From that day onwards, your wedding ring rests against his collarbone, a string looped through it. He never takes it off, nor does he remove his own ring, because to him, you were the only one fit to take the place at his side in life. He doesn't want anyone else to love him, because no one could ever love or hold him in such high regard like you did.
It was everything or nothing, and you are his everything. Since you're gone, he'll gladly settle for nothing. Anything else and he'd label himself a cheater to your love.
———
Cyno, who prioritized catching the mastermind, lest any more innocents get hurt.
The General Mahamatra trudged back through the desert sands, clouds of dust trailing behind him. His grip was tight against the criminal’s wrists, leaving no room for escape. While part of him was solely focused on the captured mastermind, another part of him was thinking about you and how he's going to make it up to you for neglecting you the last few weeks. How could he ever possibly thank you or repay you for your neverending patience?
Rounding the last rock, Cyno finally makes it back to where he left you, having instructed you to wait there until he returned. You know that it was vital to stay put, so why is it that you've disappeared? Eyes red like the sunset scan the camp, finding that nothing was missing among your personal belongings or supplies.
As he continued to try and piece together the clues, you stood frozen in the shadows, an arm pulling you against a chest, keeping you in place. The hand over your mouth didn't help quell your fear, nor did the warm, rancid breath that tickled your neck.
How hard do you have to stare at the back of your lover's head for him to just turn in your direction!? Apparently very hard, because no matter how much you will a telepathic message his way, he still fails to find you. Tears begin to slide down your face - is this really it? Will this be the end? When he's so close to you? Will he turn and walk in the wrong direction, giving the man holding you time to escape with you in tow?
The looming threat that if you step out of line you risk harming yourself and Cyno plays in your mind, but you also remember nights lying in bed with your husband, whispering reassurance to him that no matter the situation you knew he'd always save you. You had full confidence in his abilities.
Gathering your resolve you take a leap of faith and elbow your captor, biting the hand that impairs your voice. Making a mad dash from the hiding spot, you scream for Cyno, watching as his head whips in your direction.
It all happened so fast after that. One second there's just you, him and the two Eremites and in the next, you're surrounded. The mastermind Cyno had been holding manages to retch his arms free, whistling a tune causing other desert dwellers to pop up from seemingly nowhere. A capture net is being thrown over you, aiming true and trapping you once more. Cyno, now flanked from all sides, can only watch helplessly as two men grasp the ends of the net, dragging you like you're nothing but a sack of goods.
You squirm with all your might, but it does nothing as you're effortlessly tossed in a caravan, screaming and sobbing for your husband. Amidst the scuffle, the leader orders the others to "shut them up" and right after a powder is poured on you, the effects taking seconds to kick in.
You begin to quiet until you slump on your side, and Cyno feels the urgency build even more. He channels all the strength he has into at least breaking through to get to you, but the moment he does the snap of reins echoes out and the cart takes off.
So, he runs, because for once something much for valuable that his life is on the line. Because he can't afford to let the bad guy get away this time.
But a man cannot match the pace of a horse, and it isn't long before his stamina reaches its limit and he stumbles, and you disappear over the horizon.
———
Wriothesley, who believed he could save everyone.
By no means was the warden of the Fortress of Meropide lacking in skills. He's proven time and time again that he's worthy of the title of Duke among the underwater structure, able to shoulder the responsibility of keeping each and every inmate well cared for and as comfortable as possible.
Perhaps that was the reason he's failing now to protect those he really cares for, for you were no inmate, but rather the person he swore to spend the rest of his life with.
He knew that this day would come, but he was still so, so unprepared for it. The damn seal was due to break sooner or later, and it chose today of all days to do so. The evacuation was quick, maybe even quicker than the first one, but there was one difference this time around. Today was also the day that a couple Melusines had come in Monsieur Neuvillette's place, delivering some reports to Wriothesley while also taking this time to speak with Sigewinne.
"Where are they?" The Duke grits his teeth, running through every area he can reach. You weren't far behind, having insisted a second pair of eyes was better than one. When another room turned up empty he slammed his first into the wall, cursing loudly.
You did another look through in the places he missed before sighing, placing a hand on his chest, "We'll find them Wrio. Take a deep breath, please." He stares at you for a moment, doing as you suggested. You offer a small smile, "There aren't many rooms left, they've gotta be here."
"I know," he sighs, running a hand through his messy hair, "but we're running out of time."
Just as he says that the building rumbles and shakes, the sound of a pipe bursting in the distance sending fear through your body. All it takes is a shared look for you two to start running again, eyes and ears sharp as you try to catch even the slightest signs of life.
There were only two rooms left to check when you heard a call, not by a Melusine but by a pair of inmates. Turning to look, your stress levels spike.
“Shit, this isn’t good,” Wriothesley mutters, surveying the situation the moment you both made it over. One of the inmates was trapped underneath a metal panel, and his buddy wasn’t strong enough to lift it off him on his own.
They plead for help and you can see the cool grey eyes of your lover start to unfocus, a million thoughts passing through his mind. Time is running out, and as he's internally about to lose his cool the sound of your voice brings him back.
Laying a hand on his shoulder you squeeze firmly, "Listen, how about we split up? You deal with this and I go find the Melusines. We'll be faster that way."
His eyes widen at your proposition, and he doesn't even have to think twice about denying, "Now, hold on just a-!"
Another tremor, and you have to harden your tone to get your point across, “We don’t have time Wriothesley, help them and I’ll search the two rooms. When you’re done get them out of here, I won’t be far behind!”
He wants to say no, wants you to get to the surface and he'll take care of the inmate and missing Melusines, but as he looks at the crumbling Fortress he finds himself biting his lips before nodding. "You better stay safe, or else."
You smile, turning and disappearing into the second last room. A quick search proves nothing and when you leave you see your husband beginning to pull out the stuck inmate. You're able to meet gazes for a moment only to break it off, rushing into the last room.
It's easy to spot the brightly coloured blue beings amongst the dreary Fortress walls. "Thank Archons!" You sigh, almost tripping over your feet in your hurry to get them, scooping them up in your arms, "we have to go now you two!"
There's a groan of metal and the clatter of something collapsing in the distance, and it's safe to say you didn't waste time sprinting out of there. As you pass where you last saw your husband, there's a momentary wave of relief at seeing him no longer lingering there. You know then that he's gotten out, and that he's probably waiting anxiously for you.
The thought pushes you to get out faster, jumping over any puddles that have formed or debris. But just because you can jump doesn't mean you can dodge.
One piece then two fell from above, but when you look up dread courses through you upon the realization that a good section of the roof is about to drop. You acted before you could fully think and tossed the two tiny beings in your arms, sprinting just a little faster before leaping yourself. You're glad you managed to throw them out of the collapse zone, but you weren't so lucky, your leg getting trapped from midway to your knee and down under the pile of rubble. All it took was one attempt at tugging your leg out to know it was stuck under there good.
"Go," you pointed in the direction of the exit, immediately beginning to dig yourself out. The least you could do was get them to safety. The Melusines however hesitated, looking at each other before looking at you again. You knew they weren't strong enough to lift anything off you, so you repeated the one-word order, adding that you'd be right behind them.
You hear more than you see them run off, and after a minute of struggling you manage to free yourself, continuing towards the exit.
Wriothesley didn't stick around the entrance, instead busying himself with checking on everyone. If he didn't then he'd go mad and rush back in to get you. As he made another round he spotted the two creatures of the sea clutching onto the Iudex, their heads buried in his neck. If they were safe, then you must've made it out too, right?
Wriothesley gives the order to close the Fortress of Meropide off completely, and he watches unaware as he cages you in. It's only by chance that, once he's almost to the surface, he looks out the window of his escape submarine and through one of the windows of the Fortress. The horror sets in.
Even if it's useless, you stumble and limp up to the glass, banging on it, screaming for him. You're not sure what he'd do though, maybe you just wanted to see him one last time, wanted to tell him you love him, that it's not his fault. You stare at him, tears streaming down your face before turning your back to the ocean and sliding down to the ground.
Even if he can't hear you, you whisper out your love for him, how you'd never hold this against him. You pray to the Archons, to the Traveler, to Neuvillette, to Clorinde to watch over him for you.
You eye the rising water, and to make it just a little more bearable you pretend it's the first time you got Wriothesley to go swimming with you. You had dip your toes in first, as a show that the water wouldn't bite. He wasn't scared of the water, and he knew how to swim; he wasn't ashamed of the scars on his body either. No, he refused to go swimming back then because he didn't want to freeze, and it took you and the trust he placed in your word to tell him the water was perfect.
So, you repeat that same action, imagining Wriothesley is right beside you like that day years ago.
From the water pod, your husband watches frozen as you vanish in an instant, continuing to watch as the water rises until it's above the height of the glass. In that single moment, most of the warmth in his heart vanishes along with you.
"You promised you'd be safe... I trusted you..."
It was the first and last time any prisoner would see the almighty Wriothesley cry out, for he swore sometime later that he'd close off his heart and never let anyone get as close as you did. He knows deep down that's not what you'd want, but he knew he could never go through the same pain again and still continue to live.
———
Zhongli, who you were fighting side by side with.
It's always been like that, you and him up in arms against the world. It was like that in the Archon War, in the Cataclysm and any other time someone threatened the safety of the Lord of Geo's territory. You had his back and he had yours, something that only grew stronger as your relationship developed from war buddies to friends then finally to lovers.
It was... naive of you both to think that you'd be able to spend eternity together without issue. You were too blinded by the fact that you were both going to withstand time and he believed that there was no way he'd fail to protect you, not with the strength he possessed.
Your downfall was not due to time or a lack of strength, but rather your own desire to keep the man you love safe from harm.
Zhongli did not see the sword pierce your skin, but he did hear the strangled cry you let out. He felt the fear wash over him, he saw the bloody aftermath as you fell forward into him, no longer able to hold yourself upright.
Instinctively he wraps his arms around you, sinking to the grass with you. Crimson stains his hands and clothes fast as if the wound was his own and he knows right then that your time together is limited.
The pain you feel is searing and with each breath you take you're fighting to keep that air in your lungs long enough to get more. Your husband spoke softly as he stroked your shoulder, "Why did you take the hit for me?"
When you looked up into his warm, amber eyes you knew then that this was the last time he'd hold you, the last time you'd speak with one another. How interesting it is that you both realized at different points that this was the end.
"You..." you cough, body trembling in his hold and Zhongli almost regrets asking you to speak. He just wants to make you comfortable in your last moments, to act as if everything is okay. "You... were going to get hurt."
The man you knew to never weep lets a single tear slide down his face, a light chuckle getting stuck in his throat, "ah, how like you to put me above yourself. I'm the same way with you, so I suppose I can't point fingers, now can I?"
“No… you can’t,” you smile back, but it’s tough to force it through the pain. You cough again and this time a little blood comes up as well.
It’s getting harder and harder to breathe as the seconds tick by. “Morax.”
The former Archon stiffens; you rarely ever call him by his real name unless you're serious about something. "Yes, my dear? What is it?" When he sees you trying to lift your hand to his cheek, Zhongli dips his head, placing his own hand over yours.
Glazed eyes watch as you swallow, stuttering on your own breath, "I'm... I'm very proud of the man you've become compared to the Archon I first met. I'm very proud of the things you've done for Liyue, and I'm grateful for the things you've done for me."
Your eyes droop a little, and he knows your time to depart is near when he sees you rest your head against him more and with the way he has to hold up your hand for it to stay resting on his cheek. He swears he won't let you slip away until you've said your final peace.
"I... I need you to promise me something Morax."
"You know I will always do my best to honour your wishes," he tells you, his grip tightening on your hand. A sudden breeze picks up, blowing his hair in such an elegant way that your face softens, never not amazed by his beauty. Tranquillity washes over you, and it may sound crazy, but the scent the wind brought to you smelt like home, like a simpler time in your life.
All other sounds are drowned out, the wind blowing them far away so he could hear you clearly, "You have to find happiness again... even though I won't be there for you. Can... can you promise me that?"
He pulls you impossibly closer, removing your hand just to place a gentle kiss on your palm before returning it to its place, "I promise." In that moment he feels like he's lied to you, for he believes he'll never truly recover from your death, but that doesn't mean he won't try for you. And as you smile up at him for the last time, Morax feels that he could live with his answer to you.
Much like his friends of old, he knows he'll see you in the little things around the city - a lantern, a blooming flower, a cup of tea, the fires in fireplaces - as if you're watching over him. He'll continue to walk forward as everything passes him by, mingling with the ever-changing people and culture and surrounding himself with friends, because that's what he promised you, and he wants you to see that even when you're not by his side to experience it yourself.
"I'm happy now, see? But I will never be as happy as I was with you"
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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 months ago
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Yandere Animal Town (2) | Only Human
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Part 1
You awake from your midday nap to the sounds of shouts from a man and a woman. Sounding like the latter is in distress you immediately run for your bat opening up the door facing the road. To find a billy goat man pulling a cow woman towards your doorstep; similar to their animal counterparts the man is short and wide sporting a dirtied tank top sleek with sweat. The female cow being pulled by tiny horns on her head is bent awkwardly wearing a revealing top with underwear and a jockstrap. Before you need to say anything the billy goat man is gruffing in your direction.
“Oh, so this is where the rumored human is. Well, aren’t you pretty?”
You don’t bother answering that. “What are you doing to here and what are you doing to her?”
Your question has him looking at the crying girl and spitefully pulling her closer as her knees buckle to the ground. All the while she’s crying and pleading incoherently. None of that seems to bother the goat man though as he spits in disgust.
“I’m showing this heifer ain’t nobody gonna want her! Dry as the Sahara this cow is she ain’t give make me any money for the food she eats.”
For emphasis he throws her to the ground, waiting for her to crawl back to him. When she opens her mouth to continue pleading he kicks the sandy dirt in her face. It makes you sick. 
“I’ll take her.”
They both look up at you in surprise. The billy goat man belts out in laughter as a disgusting smirk spreads on his face. 
“Oh, I see! Looking for another kind of milk, huh? Good luck with that!” He kicks at her again as he turns back to his truck. “Enjoy it Heifer you might actually be of worth for once.”
As he speeds off in his rickety, rusted truck she cries out making a desperate attempt to follow. Tripping over the dirt, barely a couple steps in; scraping her knees in her unconventional wardrobe. She crumples into herself crying with her hoarse voice, you let her go on for awhile before lifting her up and into the house.
You don’t know the ethics or the inner workings of farming when it comes to hybrids. Only barely catching the surface of the unregulated and often cruel practices that ensue because it’s a market for hybrids to be typically successful. With this in mind your careful to be gentle to not take it personally when she refuses to speak to you. You can’t imagine what she’s gone through.
“Here’s a towel and some soap and a washcloth. I ran a bath for you.”
“.....”
“I’ll come check on you in a bit. Take your time.”
She only wordlessly follows your commands with a sullen look on her face. Even when Titan comes around poking and prodding at the new face, she hardly reacts. 
“Hey, you! What’s your problem, huh? Why aren’t you smiling, huh? Why are you wearing (Y/n)’s clothes? It’s not fair!”
“Hey Titan give her space she’s having a rough day!”
“Well when I’m sad I just go to you. Why can’t she do that?”
“Sometimes I just don’t make everybody happy, Titan. And that’s okay.”
“That’s stupid.”
“.....Waaaaaaaaa”
“Titan!”
“Sorry!”
After canceling your dinners with the neighbors for the week much to their displeasure you settle her into a bedroom close to yours. Just in case. It isn’t until the next morning that you wake to tears on your face. Sitting above you her bust taking up most of your vision is the cow woman silently crying as she pulls at her teats only for nothing to come out. 
“I’m useless. I can’t even do this for you!”
You spend the day comforting the cow woman who’s drenching herself in endless tears. With lots of assurance that you ask for nothing from her and talk to her about her ‘job’ she finally opens up.
“...It’s Eudora.”
“Eudora…that’s a beautiful name.”
“It was what they called my mother before…he…took over. She never officially bequeath it to me…because she never got to retire.” 
Lots of hugs and praise are what fills your days with Eudora. Breaking the unhealthy practices regarding eating and what she did throughout the day. Instead of letting her lay in bed and stew in her dark thoughts, you invite her to your picnics and follow after Titan as he explores the groves of your property. Without the fear of not producing milk or verbal abuse she finally starts to smile and actually taking your advice. 
“You are a queen Eudora, just like the others at that farm.”
“Hahaha me? A queen?”
“Yes!”
“Is this some city thing you guys call people?”
“Kind of but the point is, is that you barely realize how gorgeous and desirable you are just because. It’s a way to remind you of that.”
“....Wow…that’s really sweet, (Y/n)....”
“Just being honest–”
“That’s not fair if she’s your queen I wanna be your king!”
“Titan, she’s not mine. She’s nobody’s but her own.”
“💜”
“Gross. Can I still be your king (Y/n)!?”
She really starts to settle in as your roommate, helping you with your growing list of chores. Learning alongside to cook with you as you entertain the neighbors that continue to visit so eagerly. Despite letting herself get pushed to the side when they come around she’s really come into herself. Taking the clothes you’ve given her and styling it into something that works for her. Spending time and your money into her appearance. And if that wasn’t great enough she woke up to a curious surprise. 
“AAAAAhhhh!”
“W-what’s wrong!?”
“Milk spots!”
“What?”
“I’ve got milk spots! I’m leaking!”
Turns out all her body needed was a little TLC and it felt the need to lactate better than she’s ever had before. Days in the past spent blissfully walking through your fields are spent milling herself into whatever glasses you have. As it continues it gets worse better enough so that she eventually has to call on you to help. It’s a tad awkward for her to fling the maternity breast pump you bought for her as she demands you do it for her. 
“E-eudora c’mon I’ve never done anything like this I’m not going to—”
“NO!! I NEED YOU TO DO THIS! Otherwise it’s going to take all day!”
So there goes an hour in the morning to help her release the gallons of milk her happy body produces. Constantly hearing the wanton moans of the cow woman you’re doing such a big favor. When you're finished, you have Tank frantically sniffing you both for some odd reason as he comments about the suspicious noises he was hearing.....from miles away. Eudora doesn’t bother clearing up the misunderstanding you just aren’t picking up on.
“So I believe you too were awfully loud this morning”
“Oh, you heard us, did you? Lucky dog, I’m sure you wish you were in my position.”
“Uhm I don’t know why Tank would want to do what you were doing.”
Tank is whining. “It doesn’t smell like what I think it was.”
“Ha just because you can’t smell it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”
“Well if you’re smelling milk then that’s accurate. Eudora made way more than we can cook with so we’re going to take it to the market today.” 
“oh…milk….The kind that comes from-?”
“Her? Yeah. What kind of milk could I be talking about?”
“Come on, (Y/n)! We’re going to lose daylight talking to him.”
“I–I–wanna come too!”
With all the publicity from the suddenly amazing milk from the odd human that’s recently moved in floats around. Of course, the sweaty gross billy goat is circling back to your place. Spitting and pointing when you finally come out to the enraged short man. The cow woman and the dog boys on your property at the time are all on guard.
“I want ‘em back! You cheated me you hairless skank!!!”
“You can’t have her if she doesn’t want to go!”
“Why you–”
“Grrrr!”
“Wait (Y/n)...I’ll handle this.”
She agrees to go with him. Kissing you on the cheek as she promises she’ll return by tonight. It feels like you’ve failed as she walks into the passenger seat with her now confident strut and proud smile in an outfit she feels comfortable in. It feels like you’ve lost that is until that rickety truck pulls up again in the dead of night. Tiffany staying up with you after attempting to put you to sleep and joining you as you run to see if your friend truly had returned. 
“I’m back~!” 
“Eudora!” 
The hug is your victory and it’s also a little off center. 
“Uh, heels?”
“A gift from the girls back home. Turns out the ownership of the farm was recently called into question and I’ve recently been included in a new business venture. An opening was recently made.” 
“Does this mean you’ll be moving in back there?”
Eudora hates how eager Mama Tiffany sounds with her speeding tail.
Eudora delights in the wagging slowing down with her next words
“No, I just figure I’ll be contributing a bit more to the home. Is that alright (Y/n)?”
“Of course, I’m so proud of you Eudora!”
Mama Tiff is livid along with her sons as she watches the cow-woman move in with designer bags and start paying to reinforce the fence on your property starting with the flap Titan loves sneaking in through. From then on she too comes with you when you head into town, not afraid to pull down her designer pink glasses to verbally put down anyone still brave enough to talk down to you. But by now it isn’t all hateful talks, she’s still chasing off anyone with mildly too positive intentions.
“Look feline if you don’t back off now I might be convinced not to starve your family.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Ah, but I can. Would you like to see?”
She’s sure she doesn’t need the extra help from your puppy neighbors but she’ll take it. If only to keep her nails clean, she’ll stick to her own strengths. Happily pulling you behind your market stalls because she desperately needs to be milked. She only trusts you–her human to do such a thing. No one else in this town is worthy of squeezing the liquid magic she can create than you– her dear one and only human.
“Come (Y/n) I need you. You are my special human—the only human I trust to help me fuel my empire. You won’t refuse me, right?”
Part 3: Here
Taglist: @midnight-nightmares @xrenka @candlesworlds-blog @00hellohello00 @lem-hhn @kawaii-cakes
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navybrat817 · 3 months ago
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Moving in Slow Motion
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Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Single Mom!Reader
Summary: Everything changes for Bucky when he meets you and your daughter.
Word Count: Over 1.2k
Warnings: Fluff, meet-cute, daughter nicknamed Sweet Pea, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)
A/N: How mob!Bucky and our single mom met. Thanks to @whisperlullaby and @targaryenvampireslayer for letting me babble about this AU. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky met you and Sweet Pea at a science museum and his life changed for the better.
Growing up, Bucky enjoyed going to the museum. Beyond developing critical and analytical thinking, science encourages curiosity and creativity.
In another life, he liked to imagine he taught science and had a family instead of being a mob boss.
It wasn’t fair to think that since his friends were his family, but something was missing that they couldn’t provide him with.
Whether for nostalgic purposes or to clear his head, he found himself back in the familiar museum. He stood and silently observed various exhibits, his eyes darting back and forth as families bustled around him and enjoyed the interactive experiences.
Something tightened in his chest and he didn’t want to ponder on that for long.
A chorus of chatter and excitement drew his attention and he stepped back to make room when he saw a group of kids in matching shirts walk by. Field trips were always something to look forward to and the wonder in their eyes reminded him of simpler times.
“Mama, Mama, look!” A sweet voice called out before something bumped his leg. He glanced down to see a little girl look up at him with wide eyes. “Sorry, Mister.”
Bucky Barnes struck fear into powerful men all over the world. He could only imagine how he looked to this sweet little girl with his large and imposing stature.
People liked to say he had a cold heart, but one look at her and it melted.
“Nothing to be sorry for, Sweet Pea.” He wasn’t sure where the nickname came from as he crouched down to make sure she was okay. “You’re not hurt, are you?”
She quickly shook her head and appeared to relax a bit when he gave her a small smile. He didn’t want her to be afraid of him. “No, Mister. I’m okay.”
He nodded, glad to hear that. “You just got excited by everything here, didn’t you? I get it.”
“Uh-huh.” She smiled, making his smile widen. He didn’t smile much these days. “Science is my favorite!”
“It’s my favorite, too,” he said, pointing to one of the rooms. “Did you know in that room you can try to build your own roller coaster?”
She gasped, her eyes lighting up. “I can?!”
He chuckled. Her enthusiasm was infectious. “You sure can. I’ll bet you can build a really good one.”
“Sir, did she bump into you?” You rushed over through the crowd as Bucky’s eyes flickered up, his breath caught in his throat. You weren’t in a matching shirt like the kids, but wore a similar color. “I’m so sorry.”
He couldn’t help but stare at you as he stood upright, everything moving in slow motion. The little girl made his heart melt, but you set it on fire.
“I said sorry, Mama,” your daughter said, a slight pout on her face when you put a protective arm around her and gave him a wary look. He appreciated your protective instinct. “Accidents happen.”
Bucky wasn’t ashamed to admit to himself that his eyes went to your left hand and was happy to not see a wedding ring. Questions went through his mind, ranging from why you weren’t married to what was the full backstory of you and your daughter?
“I know how happy you are to be here, but you also need to be careful and stay close to me,” you said in a gentle, but firm tone. Bucky had a feeling you weren’t referring to bumping into people, but to avoid strangers. “Okay?”
“Okay, Mama,” she replied, hugging your legs.
“It’s fine. Really. I’m pretty sure I walked straight into a wall once because one of the exhibits distracted me,” he teased, unsure of why he wanted to talk to you. He just did.
You smiled after a moment, keeping your arm around your daughter. “I appreciate that. This visit was all she talked about for the last week.”
“I don’t blame her. I hope she has the best time,” he said sincerely.
Your daughter tugged on your shirt. “Show him what I colored!”
Your eyes went to Bucky before you dug into your tote bag. “What do we say?” You asked your daughter.
“Please,” she replied.
Bucky smiled to himself when you took out a coloring sheet with various science and space objects. “Wow! Did you color this?” He asked the little girl. “It’s very good.”
She smiled proudly. “Uh-huh!”
“It’s for a contest. The winner gets a free season pass to the museum,” you explained, carefully tucking it back in your bag.
“I hope I win,” she said, hopefulness in her innocent eyes.
Maybe he could make a donation and get that season pass for her. Hell, he had enough money to buy the museum if he wished.
“Well, I’m not a judge, but you’d win if it was up to me,” Bucky said, taking it as a victory when she smiled again.
You gazed at him before you shook your head. “We should get back to the group.”
“Aww,” she pouted, giving Bucky a small wave. “Bye bye, Mister.”
“Bucky. My name is Bucky,” he said, wishing the wholesome interaction didn’t have to end. He was completely enamored with the two of you. “It was nice meeting you, Sweet Pea.”
“Sweet Pea?” You repeated. He worried he made a mistake in saying that before you smiled. “I call her that sometimes.”
“It’s fitting,” he said, tucking a bit of his hair back. “Any chance I might get your name before you go?”
You hesitated before you told him. You even gave him your daughter’s real name. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”
Bucky was probably pushing his luck, but he’d regret it if he didn’t try. “Look, I know this is forward, but can I give you my number?” He asked, giving you what he hoped was a charming yet soft stare.
He didn’t take offense to the skepticism in your eyes. “Um…” You glanced over your shoulder to make sure the group was still close by.
“It’s more than okay if you say no,” he said. He didn’t want you to feel pressured in the slightest and he shouldn’t have assumed you were single because you weren’t wearing a ring.
It was also selfish in a way since you and your daughter seemed so bright and his world was dark, but maybe you two were the real reason he went to the museum today.
After a moment and exchanging a look with your daughter, you shrugged and handed him your phone. “Sure, why not?”
His heart soared when he put his number in, wondering how quickly he’d hear from you. “You won’t regret it,” he promised, making sure to give Sweet Pea one more smile, too. “Have fun making the roller coaster. And good luck with the contest.”
“Thanks, Mister Bucky!”
Bucky’s heart melted all over again as she pulled you away. You even glanced back and gave him a tiny smile, which he returned with one of his own.
He didn’t know you yet, but he sensed deep down that your expectations were set low when it came to men. He was going to enjoy raising the bar.
And he was going to enjoy giving you and Sweet Pea the best life possible, if you gave him a chance.
Wait ‘til the gang hears about this…
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I don't have a name yet for the AU and still coming up with a nickname for our reader (Dream Girl and Starlight have been suggested!), but I can't wait to share more. Check out Heart and Home here! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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pathologicalreid · 4 months ago
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extraordinary measures | s.r.
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in which your life hangs in the balance after a brutal attack, and Spencer has to hold himself together for the sake of you and your baby
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: fetal abduction, potentially inaccurate medical information, entirely from spencer's pov, very violent crime, mom!reader, hospitals, medication, spencer lashes out at jj, rossi's son. word count: 4.41k a/n: the people said dad!spencer angst and i delivered. also! trying something new with formatting my posts. i pay for canva pro and need to get my money's worth.
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The hospital staff had moved them into a conference room, giving the BAU more space to spread out – and so Spencer’s pacing wouldn’t disturb the other people in the waiting room. This isn’t real. This isn’t happening. This isn’t real. This isn’t happening. Not to us. Not to me. Not to her.
The statistics on fetal abduction were alarming. Before today, there had only been thirteen cases since Spencer had joined the BAU. Today alone, there had been two.
“Excuse me,” an unfamiliar voice said, followed by two knocks on the door, “I’m so sorry, but have you had the chance to fill out some of the forms that we gave you?”
Answering for him, Penelope grabbed the clipboard off of the table and passed it to the nurse, “The insurance card is on the top,” she informed the nurse. Nervously, the blonde looked between the medical professional and Spencer, “Is there any update?”
The nurse cringed slightly, “I don’t have one. I’ll see if they can send someone to talk to you.” She nodded assuredly before peeling out of the room.
“Can I get you anything?” Garcia asked helplessly. He had already been given tea, water, coffee, and a sandwich, but he didn’t want any of it.
Shaking his head numbly, Spencer dragged his hands down his face as he replayed the events of this morning in his head.
He wasn’t even supposed to be working, you were due any day now, but Emily had called him with the case and gave him the choice of working. He was supposed to go with you to the check-up, but you had encouraged him to go save a life.
The woman who had been found this morning had her abdomen crudely cut open and her baby was born via a botched cesarean section, but her baby was too premature and didn’t make it. They were both found in an alley near the hospital by a garbage man. Then, while he and Luke were at the medical examiner’s office, his phone started to ring.
You had been discovered, bleeding out, outside of your obstetrician’s office, and if you hadn’t been so close to a building full of doctors, you probably wouldn’t have made it as far as surgery right now. The fact that you had been brought to surgery should have been enough to give him hope, but he hasn’t been raised to be hopeful, he was raised to be pragmatic. The reality of the situation was that in cases of fetal abduction, the mothers rarely made it out the other side.
He was left with Garcia to keep him company, she stayed as a watchdog, mainly looking through traffic footage on her laptop as she made sure Spencer didn’t go entirely off the rails. “You’re going to burn a hole in the floor,” she said offhandedly, begging Spencer to just sit down for a moment.
With a huff, he took a seat next to Penelope, leaning his head back on the taupe drywall, “I don’t know what to do,” he confessed.
“We’re going to wait, we are not going to catastrophize, and we will listen to any and all updates that the doctors give us,” she said determinedly, nodding her head as she did so. “We only know what we know and assuming the worst will just lead to feeling worse.”
Closing his eyes, he agreed, listening to the bustle of the hospital from inside the secluded, makeshift waiting space. He wished he knew more about your status when you came in, there were the crime scene photos – which Penelope was under strict orders not to show him – and a quick mention from a resident about blood loss, but nothing else.
“Dr. Reid?” A new voice said, snapping him out of his stupor as he rose to his feet, staring at the doctor who came in with his scrub cap on, “I’m afraid there isn’t much news. Things are still touch and go. They’re hopeful that they can get the bleeding under control, once they do that, we’ll know more. I’ll come out and let you know, alright?”
With the doctor leaving, Garcia reopened her laptop, “You see? We can’t assume the worst because we just don’t know enough yet.”
“Garcia,” he interrupted, hopeful for just a moment of silence to digest the new information – if you could even call it that.
Nodding succinctly, she returned to her work, “Right, okay.”
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With the arrival of JJ, Penelope left to check in at the office, and since a profiler was bound to know more information, he asked JJ for an update. His baby had to be almost three hours old now, and he knew nothing about them.
He was left disappointed, there was no information on the UnSub or the baby, “What’s the point of it anyway?”
“Everyone is working on it, Spence. No one is going to rest until this case is closed,” JJ tried to reassure him.
Spencer wasn’t sure he was ever truly going to rest again, “Where is someone supposed to go with a newborn baby? The umbilical cord has to be still attached.” Statistically, women were more likely to commit cesarean abductions, and they usually did so after the loss of their own child or because they told someone they were pregnant and needed to produce a baby. “No one can tell me anything about my child, JJ, don’t you understand that? Can’t you try to understand how that feels?”
Bracing herself, JJ nodded, “You’re angry, I get it, you-“
“No, you don’t. My wife is bleeding out in surgery, and I have no fucking clue where our baby is. I have never met them. I don’t know if I have a son or a daughter or if they’re alive and you have the nerve to tell me that you ‘get it’?” He peered over at the blonde profiler. You should’ve been the first person to hold your baby, and instead, you might never live to find out what happened to you.
She was silent for a moment, “You’re right. I- I can’t even begin to process what you’re feeling right now, but all we can do is keep working on the case.”
Dropping his head in his hands, Spencer shook his head, “Then go work on the case,” he insisted, “I don’t… I need to be alone right now.”
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Just as the four-hour mark approached, the glass door opened again, and David Rossi walked in.
“Are you here to lecture me?” Spencer asked, his voice raspy from crying in the solitude of the room, he wondered if JJ had told everyone how he lashed out at her.
Crossing one leg over the other, Rossi answered, “Nope,” he said, popping the last syllable. “I’m just here to sit and wait, same as you, kid.”
Nodding, Spencer leaned his head back and closed his eyes as a protection against the fluorescent lights of the hospital, “How did you manage?”
There were some things – life events – that were left unspoken in the BAU. Traumas that people didn’t want uncovered, horrors that the team didn’t need to relive, but Spencer needed answers, and this was the only way he could think to get them. “Manage what?”
“Losing your son,” he answered, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he kept his eyes closed, wondering if he too would lose a child. Birth and death within the same day.
Clearing his throat, Rossi took a moment before responding, and Spencer wasn’t sure if he was appalled at the question or if he simply wasn’t sure how to respond, “Well, I’m not sure I ever really did. Not for a long time, at least,” he admitted.
Digesting the information, Spencer shifted in his seat, “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. Everyone just keeps telling me to wait, but…” he chuckled to himself, “Y/N always jokes that if patience is the companion of wisdom, then I have to be the exception.”
He had always been told to wait. Wait for his turn. Wait for the perfect person to show up. He had waited, and he had gotten you, but all of that waiting had led him here. In this beige room where he had signed papers asking doctors to use extraordinary measures to try and save your life.
“Dr. Reid?” One of the doctors from earlier called his name, knocking on the glass door. Instinctively, Spencer stood up, wiping his hands on his pants and looking at the doctor expectantly, “Oh, please,” the doctor said, “Take a seat.”
Hesitantly, Spencer lowered himself back down into the hospital chair, he couldn’t help but feel like that was a bad sign.
“All things considered, your wife is very, very lucky,” the doctor informed him, “She’s not fully out of the woods yet, but they’re setting her up in recovery right now. I’m just waiting on a message from my colleague, and then I’ll be able to bring you up to see her.”
A flurry of questions flew through his mind at once, “What are you still concerned about?” He asked, leaning over and resting his elbows on his knees.
Nodding, the doctor continued, “Y/N lost a lot of blood in the attack. When you factor in the trauma of having a baby and a four-hour surgery, there’s a lot of healing that has to happen, and right now she doesn’t have the strength for it.” His phone chimed, and Spencer jolted, trying not to get his hopes up if it wasn’t about you, “Come with me,” the doctor said.
Rossi offered to let the rest of the team know and Spencer rambled off a random confirmation as he followed the doctor through the doorway, feeling like he was floating. As they walked through the hospital, Spencer grew more and more anxious.
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Your hand was cold. In fact, your hand was so cold that Spencer asked the doctor to turn the volume on your vital monitor up so that he could have the constant reassurance that you were alive.
Blood was being transfused still, he had already forgotten the doctor’s estimate on just how much blood you had lost, but if he had the urge to read through your medical chart, he was sure he could find out. The only problem was, ever since the doctor left, he hadn’t been able to do anything except stare.
Every once in a while, he pinched your index finger, testing the capillary refill time out of his own morbid curiosity while blood was being returned to your body. Agents and officers stood outside of your hospital room in a steady rotation. The BAU wasn’t sure if your life was still in danger, but they weren’t willing to take any risks.
There were countless law enforcement personnel involved in this case now, if not directly investigating the case, they were at least contributing to the search. The Manassas Field Office, DC Metro, the Maryland Police – they were all out there looking. Out the window, he could see news reporters gathering out front to start their afternoon broadcasts.
It had been four hours. Four hours and there was still no word on the baby or the UnSub. The baby would need to eat soon, and Spencer found himself depending on the UnSub to have had the forethought to take care of the newborn.
Every couple of minutes, you would mumble something in your sleep, and he willed you to stay asleep. Selfishly, he wanted you to stay asleep until he knew the baby was safe – until he knew he could have something good to tell you.
Penelope was stationed right outside the door. She likely thought he hadn’t noticed her return, but the clicking of her keyboard gave her away.
Infrequently, his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he tried not to concern himself with it. Garcia had made contact with your mom, being sure to reach out to your family before any other news hit the airwaves.
He adjusted the way the nasal cannula rested on your face before bringing your hand to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles and resting your cold fingers against his cheek, as if his face had the capacity to warm your whole body. Briefly, he wondered if the team would be willing to have a desk agent bring you a blanket from home.
The team would probably find a way to get him a helicopter if he requested it.
Flowers and cards flowed into your hospital room, arriving from people who knew you to people who had seen your story on the news. He had to look away when a small stuffed elephant was delivered by a nurse, knowing that the baby it belonged to was nowhere to be found.
Much to his surprise, he looked away from the stuffed animal just to find you looking back at him. The sorrow in your eyes a staggering reflection of that which could be found in his own. One glance at you and he knew that there was no need for him to break the news to you – you were well aware.
Spencer remained wholly silent as a slew of medical professionals filtered in and out of the room, a cacophony of directives and questions sent your way as tears filled your waterline. He captured your hand in both of his, holding your hand like it was a lifeline to everything he knew as the truth. He was here, you were here, and you were both alive. Tethered to you in the woven web of life, he refused to falter. Not now. Not when you needed him the most.
He answered the questions that you didn’t know the answers to and watched, tight-lipped, as your doctor kept you informed. Dr. Lasher was picking and choosing from your chart, telling you anything pertinent, and leaving out anything that she thought could wait for later.
Once the doctor had cleared through an extensive list of maladies, everyone let you have the room. “Darling,” he whispered, reaching a hand out to adjust the way your hospital gown rested on your shoulder, covering some of the exposed wires.
“There are no leads?” You asked tentatively, the pain in your voice exacerbated by the swelling caused by the breathing tube you’d had during surgery. Your eyes were glassy, and Spencer didn’t know if it was from sorrow or pain or fear. It was a question he was afraid to ask.
He shook his head, “Not yet, but everyone’s looking,” he fed you the same reassurances that had been given to him. The same reassurances that he hadn’t believed.
You moved your hands, laying your palms flat on the sterile white sheets and starting to push yourself up, only to be met with Spencer’s hands guiding you back down to the pillows. “I’ve gotta go,” you mumbled, “I wanna help. Spence, please let me help.” Fresh tears welled in your eyes as you looked at him in desperation.
The way your bottom lip quivered was what broke him, he tilted his head to the side, “You can help just fine from right here, okay?” He looked out into the hallway, wondering which member of the team was around for you to talk to. “I’ll be right back,” he told you, squeezing your hand before retreating to the hallway, never letting you out of his line of sight.
“Hey,” Penelope greeted, the compassion in her voice giving him pause, “How is she?”
Exhausted, terrified, in pain – all applicable at the moment. Spencer thought about answering for a moment before skipping Garcia’s question entirely, “Who’s around for a cognitive?”
You didn’t quite have the energy for a full interview, but you were so adamant about helping that he couldn’t refuse you, not today. “JJ’s one floor up, do you want me to call her for you?”
He thought about it for a moment, he hadn’t handled his last interaction with JJ with the most care, but you needed someone to talk to and it couldn’t be him. “Yeah,” he nodded, “Please.”
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Spencer sat on the edge of your bed, smoothing your hair as he tried to comfort you. In all of the time he’d known you, he’d never need you so defeated.
Not much came out during your cognitive with JJ, either there was a mental block in the way or you hadn’t seen much when you were attacked. Whichever one it was, Spencer was fighting himself internally on whether or not he should be thankful.
“I’m so sorry,” Spencer murmured, keeping his voice low as you fought off sleep. “Close your eyes, sweetheart,” he cooed, “You need to rest.”
You fought sleep with everything you had in you, which wasn’t much anymore. The cognitive interview had gone too long. Your nurse was the one who put her foot down and ended it, even when you wanted to keep going. “It’s not fair,” you cried, slow tears making their way down your cheeks.
Very slowly, Spencer could feel his heart breaking as your exhaustion and desolation worked together to make you as miserable as possible, “I know, lovey. I know,” he assured you as tears filled his eyes.
Glassy eyes looked up at him, “I just wanted to be a mom,” you whispered, your speech slurred with sleep.
Letting his own tears fall to the white sheets of your hospital bed, Spencer nodded, “You are a mom.”
He didn’t add anything. He didn’t have it in him to make a grandiose speech about how you would always be your baby’s mother, and, luckily, he didn’t need to. Your eyes finally fell shut, final tears falling from your face as Spencer found himself grateful that sleep finally took you.
Never leaving your side, Spencer pulled the chair back up next to you, resting his chin on your bed's armrest and watching you sleep. Very slowly, color was beginning to return to your face, yet you still looked so different from when he had left the house that morning.
Unsure how long it had been, Spencer shot up straight when Penelope came rushing to the doorway, placing a finger to his lips, he nodded toward your sleeping form. Even so, the technical analyst waved him over.
Carefully, he slipped his hand out of yours and walked around your bed to Penelope, “What is it?”
Tears filled the blonde’s eyes as she looked up at him, she put both of her hands on his upper arms and cried, “They found your baby. It- they’re pulling up to the ambulance bay right now.”
Spencer’s lips parted in shock, having fully prepared himself for the day to end in undeniable heartbreak. “Are- is the baby okay?”
Penelope nodded, “They’re going up to the NICU right now to get checked out but apparently the EMTs said the baby looks completely unharmed.”
Turning to look at you, still asleep on the bed, Spencer gave Penelope a quick embrace before returning to your bedside, “Sweetheart,” he whispered, trying to wake you up from sleep that you still needed. “Honey,” he said, gently cupping your cheek with his hands as your eyes fluttered open.
You hummed groggily, squinting up at him under the fluorescence of the hospital.
“The baby’s here,” he murmured to you, making sure you didn’t jump up at his words. “They’re headed up to the NICU for a quick check, and-“
���Go,” you cut him off, your eyes wide and full of tears. “Please go hold them, Spence,” you cried, voice rough with sleep.
His shoulders slouched forward slightly, looking between you and Penelope in the doorway, “I’ll stay here,” Penelope offered immediately. “You go, I’ll stay.”
You nodded up at him, closing your eyes as he bent forward to press a kiss to your hairline. “I love you,” you breathed, placing a hand on your chest as if it would slow your racing heart.
“I love you too,” he responded before stepping out of the hospital room, following the directions that Penelope had given him in order to get up to the NICU.
Adrenaline made his stomach churn as he approached the NICU, wondering what he’d say to the people there until someone recognized him as The Dad. He still had to scrub his hands, but they let him through until he saw the bassinet. Even more, he saw the tiny baby kicking its legs inside of the acrylic container.
Emily stood by on high alert, ready to pounce on anyone who even looked at the baby funny, and Spencer just couldn’t stop staring. “Come here,” one of the NICU nurses said to him, obviously having been brought up to speed on the situation. With a smile on her face, she told him, “It’s a girl.”
“A girl,” he breathed, walking right up to the side of the bassinet.
The nurse nodded and adjusted the hat on her head, just slightly too big for the newborn’s head, “If you want, we can get you set up in a chair here, and you can give her a bottle.”
“Please,” he responded, earning another smile from the nurse, who had him take the crying baby in his arms before handing him the prepared bottle.
It broke his heart to watch how quickly she took to the bottle; he still wasn’t sure if she had eaten anything until this. He knew the nipple wouldn’t let her take in too much at a time, but in his subconscious, he was still worried about it being too much for her.
He rocked gently, “Hi, honey,” he cooed down at her.
“She’s a good eater,” the nurse observes, writing something down on a piece of paper. “We’ll keep an eye on her for just a little while, but we know how badly she needs to get down to her mama.”
Setting the now empty bottle down, Spencer looked up at the nurse, “Is she okay?”
The nurse nodded at his concern, “She’s on the small size, but she’s full term. Of course, not everything is going to be noticeable right away, but we did a full newborn exam on her and all of the tests say she’s a perfectly healthy baby.” She looked on as Spencer gently cupped the baby’s head, “Does she have a name?”
You and Spencer had made a deal, he would pick a boy’s name, and you would pick a girl’s name. Smiling softly, he murmured her name to her for the first time, “Genevieve,” he answered. A big name for such a small baby, maybe, but it was the name you had chosen.
He started making his way back down to you, feeling like he was floating through the taupe hallways of the hospital before he finally made it back to your room. Penelope excused herself when he emerged in the hallway.
“Spence,” you whispered, looking up at him with hope in your eyes for the first time since you had woken up after surgery.
Smiling at you, he sat on the edge of your bed, “Five pounds and fifteen ounces. Seventeen and a half inches long. Perfectly healthy.” He glanced behind him as he heard the wheels of the bassinet coming toward your room, turning back to watch your reaction as you saw your baby for the first time.
He was glad for his eidetic memory, he’d never want to forget the way your face lit up with recognition, “Oh, a girl.”
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With the baby settled on your chest, there was nothing better for the two of you to do than watch her sleep. Every once in a while, she’d coo or squawk and immediately capture your every attention all over again. “How are you feeling?” Spencer asked you. The blood transfusions had been completed, leaving you on a course of broad-spectrum antibiotics, fluids, and lots of pain medication – two of which prevented you from breastfeeding. Although, because of her size and traumatic birth, the NICU doctor suggested that some formula would help her grow properly.
You hummed contentedly, “Tired. I hurt just about everywhere,” you admitted, not taking your eyes off of your newborn. “I’m so… just grateful,” you whispered, “Is that odd?”
“No,” he shook his head, “I know exactly what you mean.” For as terrible and horrifying as the entire ordeal was, it could’ve been much worse. He almost lost both of his girls in one day.
“Does the team want to meet her?” You asked, worried about entertaining guests with the baby.
Spencer chuckled softly, keeping his index finger pointed within Genevieve’s reach, testing her palmar reflex, “I’m sure they do, but we’ll wait and see how you feel tomorrow and revisit. Okay?”
Your head bobbed in confirmation, watching as your daughter very slowly woke up, “Hi, Vie,” you greeted her quietly, gently rubbing her back with your fingertips. You didn’t have the strength to fully hold her, but she was more than happy to just lay on you, “Sweet, sleepy girl.”
“Do you want me to take her, and you can get some sleep?” Spencer offered, noticing the way you were trying to hide a yawn from him. “We aren’t going anywhere, we’ll stay right here in this chair,” he reassured you based on the apprehensive look you were giving him.
Slowly, you nodded, helping as best you could and pouting in sympathy when Genevieve – Vie – cried out at the sensation of being moved from her warm spot on her mother’s chest to the warm spot in her father’s arms. Thankfully, the newborn calmed down just as soon as Spencer settled her in his arms, “Don’t go,” you whispered, letting your eyes fall shut as you allowed sleep to wash over you.
He hummed, “We won’t,” he muttered in response.
Sleep took you with little resistance, leaving him with Genevieve in the silence of the hospital room – save for all of the machines that you were still hooked up to.
She wouldn’t be up for much longer herself – newborns spent most of their day sleeping – so Spencer took his opportunity to watch her eyes wander around the hospital room. “You can go back to sleep too, little love. I’ll watch over the both of you,” he spoke to her in a reverent tone and adjusted the hat on her head.  “I’ll keep you safe, Vie. No harm will come to you, not as long as I’m your dad.”
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certaimromance · 6 months ago
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𝜗𝜚 Theoretically Yours.
Spencer Reid x Fem!reader
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Summary: After a series of murders at your university, the FBI has decided to give you a bodyguard. The problem is that he is extremely cute and can hardly protect himself, especially from you and your charms.
Words: 1,9k.
Warnings & Tags: mentions of murder, crime, blood and also a plot twist???. spicy insinuations. spencer from the first seasons with GLASSES meow. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).
Note: I'm really excited about this, I love Spencer Reid in all seasons, but in the early ones he had something different that drove me crazy. Also, this is the first time I write here and I'm nervous.
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It was supposed to be a normal day, but agents showed up at your door to stop you from going to class and left you under the watchful eye of the youngest of them, Dr. Spencer Reid. It was a precaution to protect you from the killer who has been stalking the campus, killing girls with similar profiles to yours.
You weren't afraid and insisted that it wasn't necessary until you saw him. The mere thought of spending time alone with the man made you more excited than you would have liked. He was very tall, skinny and could barely look you in the eye for more than five seconds without looking away absolutely blushing.
You had decided not to talk to him or act suspicious, but for some reason you liked the idea of him helping you with your biology homework. You were studying pre-med at the behest of your parents and were having trouble understanding some of the material. Spencer saved your life when he offered to help you and told you about his multiple doctorates.
“You are amazing, like a genius.” You said in surprise when he read the big book you had on the table in just five minutes and left a bunch of notes in it.
He blushed again, trying to adjust his glasses to hide it so it wouldn't show. Reid was doing his best to be professional and not let his guard down, he had to be vigilant in case you were in danger.
“It's nothing. I hope it helps you.” He said, giving you a little smile.
You nod and look at the television behind him. They were airing a new report on the latest murders, showing photos of the victims and interviews with family members. Everyone cried and repeated how unfair it was to lose their prodigy daughters to a madman. You thought about how they made such a simple TV show about spilled blood without thinking about it, just trying to paint the girls who had tormented you for several years as white doves.
“Don't worry, you're safe here. I can promise that.” Spencer spoke as he followed your gaze. He was trying to comfort you and take away any fear with his presence.
“I know.” You smile at him with innocence. You were more than capable of protecting yourself and you knew it.
There was an awkward moment of silence, so you offered him coffee to break it. You went to the kitchen and poured two cups, watching from afar as he talked on the phone in the meantime. You couldn't help but notice the nervousness in his voice as he repeated to his colleagues that all was well with you.
“She's pretty, isn't she?” Penelope's voice rang through the phone in Reid's ear and sent shivers down his spine. “I saw some pictures in internet.”
“I...maybe...yes.” He mumbled, trying not to let you hear him. "How does that matter or help the case?"
As you used the coffeepot, Spencer looked you over from head to toe. He couldn't deny how attractive you were and how much his heart raced when you were around. His extreme lack of flirting skills and his clear differences with you saved him from the temptation you were.
“Just have fun, lover boy. You need it.” The woman smiled proudly and hung up the call before he could answer.
The two poured cups were already on the table, you sat down on the sofa by the window to start reading the notes he had left in your medical book. His impeccable handwriting made you shudder, it was unbelievable that someone with so much knowledge would waste time trying to take care of you from yourself and not even realize it.
“You're okay?” He asked with a soft voice, sitting in front of you.
“Yes, just reading your notes.”
“Sorry, I put too many. But I can mark the important ones for you.” He gently took the book from your hands and began to place himself between the paragraphs with one of his fingers.
Your eyes fell on his hands, the way he moved them over the pages of the book bringing inappropriate thoughts to your mind. You hadn't noticed before how perfect every part of him seemed, especially now that he was spouting complex biological terms without even flinching. You were aware of your own intelligence and proud of it, but you would have liked to be like him...or at least have him around.
“Is something wrong?” He asked confused as he noticed how you had been watching him.
“Sorry. I was thinking of biology...nothing better to look at to understand the theory.” You said to justify your indiscretion.
“Oh sure, it helps. According to several studies, the human being has three main systems for perceiving information: visual, auditory and kinesthetic.” He began to explain quickly. “This theory was put forward in 1988.”
“Maybe that can help me.” You suggested, trying to look away from him.
He nods and start to talking again.
“You were watching, that was visual. And you heard me talking before, that was auditory.”
“And what is kinesthetic?” You asked, even though you knew what the answer was.
Spencer swallowed before speaking, trying to hide his nervousness at the sudden change in tone of the conversation. He was glad to know that he had been able to turn the situation around and put the recent crimes out of his mind, he had been worried that they would affect you.
“Is what is learned through sensation and movement.” He finally said with his voice trembling slightly.
“Can I...?” You try to ask, but he nods before you can finish the sentence.
You stop looking into his eyes and take his hand, put it on your legs and start tracing lines with your finger over his scarred veins. You could feel him shudder every time you touched him, and his mutterings about the technical names of each became inaudible.
“This is the radial artery, provides oxygenated blood to the hands and fingers.” You start to talking, looking him to the eyes again and letting your hand enjoy the softness of his.
“Yes...yeah, it is.” His voice came out as a whisper, as if he was losing control of the situation. No one had ever touched him in such a way before.
The smell of coffee mixed with his cologne is almost addictive and begins to drive you crazy. Just touching his hands was not enough, something inside you wanted more and the ideas running through your head began to torment you. You knew it wasn't right and that your own sanity was in jeopardy, he was one of the good guys and you not so much. It just wasn't right for you to mix, let alone under the current circumstances.
“I should check the perimeter.” Spencer rose from his seat and slowly moved his hand away from yours. He need to go away before something incorrect happened.
All the words were caught in your throat at that moment. You didn't want him to walk away yet.
“It's not necessary.” You got up after him, preventing him from walking to the door and being able to leave. “Everyone is in their classes now, the residence is empty and your coffee is going to get cold.”
Spencer knew you were right. He couldn't go against logic, so he sat back down on one of the couches and took a sip of the coffee you had poured for him. He did his best to avoid your gaze, but it was impossible when you were looking out the window and absentmindedly sipping your coffee.
“Do you think they'll find the killer?” You asked, trying to make conversation after watching through the glass as police cruisers drove around campus.
“Of course, no one else will have to get hurt and everything will be back to normal for you.” He replied without taking his eyes off you.
“I don't think you get to decide that.” You blurt out without thinking.
The phrase and your tone were enough to make him stand up and walk towards you. He put a hand on your shoulder out of inertia, to give you support and reassure you a little.
“You don't need to be afraid.” He gave you a small reassuring smile and you felt the warmth of his touch.
You took a tentative step toward him, shortening the distance between your bodies. You raised your gaze to meet his, feeling at his mercy because of the difference in height. You weren't thinking too hard and didn't hesitate to put your hand on his cheek, caressing it.
“What are you doing?” He asked, trying not to get carried away by your touch.
“To thank you for being here and helping me.” You had a burst of courage and stood on tiptoe to give him a resounding kiss on the cheek.
Then you moved your face far enough away to look at him and see his blush. He looked so affected by a simple kiss on the cheek that you couldn't help but move closer again, this time with his fingers on your chin.
“You can't. We can't.” He stopped the approach just a couple of inches from their lips colliding.
“Why? Because I'm part of your job?” You questioned in frustration, unable to tear your eyes away from his mouth.
“I'm here to keep you safe.” He tried to sound calm and professional, though his voice trembled.
“I'm very safe now.” You assured him, grabbing his arms and wrapping them around your waist. “No one can hurt me here.”
Without Spencer being able to notice, a small moan escaped him at your action.
“There's a killer on the loose.” He insisted, trying to be the voice of reason even though he couldn't look away from your lips.
“Trust me, a kiss won't bring him here. I'm sure of it.” You replied as you noticed him slowly pulling away from you.
A curse tried to come out of your mouth at the rejection and lack of his touch at your waist, but before you could finish it, his lips were on yours and his hands were pressing you against him.
His lips were as soft as his hands, but the way they moved over yours was not soft at all. At first, even his tongue seemed to ask your permission to continue. It took several seconds of clear acceptance before the uncertainty of his kiss disappeared and was replaced by need.
You took advantage of the fact that you were in front of the big couch to push him off and you both fell on top of him, having only a few seconds to catch your breath before continuing. He gave you a quick, tender kiss before pulling his hands away from your back to remove his glasses, which were already fogged up and out of place. But your hand stopped him just before he could put them down on the table.
“Do not take off your glasses. I really like them.” You whispered still over his mouth.
“As you wish.” He said before kissing you again and letting himself enjoy himself under you, without thinking about anything else.
At that moment you knew that maybe committing a few more murders to keep him around wasn't such a bad idea.
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kat-mobile · 6 months ago
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Hey love ❤️ hope you’re doing good
Can I request Tommy with a gentle, empathetic and sensitive reader please. It was an arranged marriage and he found out his new wife would cry herself to sleep over a book she read or just a cat. His reaction to someone who is completely opposite of him
Thank you in advance ✨
Tommy with a wife who's his complete opposite
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A/N: Hey baby, thanks for the request!! I'm doing good and I hope you are too ❤️ I forgot to put on the requests post to specify if you want it as a fic or headcanons so I've made it sort of a mix of the two, hope that's okay anon. I made this blog to try and improve my writing skills and as this is my first attempt it isn't the best, so sorry about that lol. Hope you like it!! (this is set sometime around series 1-2 cause those are my fave)
It was an arranged marriage and to be honest... you weren't particularly thrilled by the notion of being married to Birmingham's most known and feared gangster. But you would do anything for your family and if your father decided that this is what would be best for securing the future of the family then you'd follow through on your part of the deal, even if it seemed like you and Tommy had absolutely nothing in common.
This was a couple months ago now and you had somewhat settled into your new life in Small Heath and with Tommy by your side, the two of you living in comfortable tandem. You had settled into a routine and life was good, or as good as it could be with the risk of being married to a Shelby.
He would buy you any book that you so much as happened to glance at and in turn you would patch up and sew back together any unfortunate pieces of clothing that got in the way of Tommy and his dangerous life style and work, fighting back tears and worrying at your lower lip as you did so. You may not quite understand why he was constantly putting himself in danger but he was your husband all the same and you had grown to love him as your marriage progressed
you would also force him to go and see an actual trained medical professional whenever he came home with said ruined clothing, as a dead husband is less than ideal and you have grown attached these last couple months
Your empathy and tendancy to cry over him when he got hurt was a shock at first but he quickly got used to it, he even tried to avoid getting hurt just so as to not have to see you cry over him
He may not say it outright but he appreciates everything you do and how much you care for him
He doesn't like to keep secrets from you but he doesn't share all aspects of work life with you as he doesn't want you to worry too much, but if being kept in the dark would worry you even more he'd make an effort to keep you in the loop
Your gentleness and compassion is a welcome contrast to his life from before you were apart of it, Tommy didn't know that he needed it before you
If there's one thing about Tommy Shelby, it's that he protects what's his and as his wife he treats you with the utmost care (especially if you have a tendancy to seek out the good in all people)
One night when Tommy (finally) came to bed he found you curled up in a ball on your side with your back to the door, tears gently running down your smooth cheeks
Unsure of what to do when confronted by your distress but still wanting to help, he'd rush to your side and scoop you up onto his lap, holding you close with your tear-stained cheek pressed against his chest and an arm thrown protectively around your shoulders. He'd cautiously rock back and forwards whilst his hand moves slowly up and down your back in what he hopes is a soothing motion. He's a little awkward and stiff but damn if he isn't fucking trying
He'd use his forefinger and thumb to tilt your chin up and force your eyes to meet his own before softly questioning you on why you were crying
"What you crying for, hmm love? Ruining your pretty face"
He'd say, wiping away your tears with his thumb
Upon hearing that the reason for your tears was a sad ending to one of the books he bought you he'd be a little taken aback and he would honestly have to suppress the urge to laugh
It all seemed rather silly to him that you'd cry over some words on paper
"Tommy it isn't funny, it was really upsetting" you'd hiccup out through your tears
he'd just shake his head and sigh, apologising, before pulling you closer, finally laying down on the bed with your legs intertwined
Tommy had hoped it would be a one of chance but when he caught you crying in bed again over the ending of Of Mice and Men, he very quickly figured that he'd have to adapt
Tommy developed a system for when you had your... shall we say moments, he'd sit down on his side of the bed with his back pressed against the headboard before he lifted you up and placed you in-between his legs
Sitting you so that your back was resting against his chest and you could feel his heartbeat
You would then explain to him the sad moments in your books as he softly hummed and nodded his head along to your words
And when he got tired from your quiet voice lulling him to sleep he'd pull you down with him as he laid on his side, caging you in against his chest with an arm around your waist
Those were the nights that he slept the best
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beautifulpaprika · 6 months ago
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A Beast and a Bracelet (m)
pairing: fem!reader x beast!jk
warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, in the forest!
summary: You tried saving someone ... again. However, this group is large and bloodthirsty, and trying to lose them in a forest isn't working. Yet, when you find a cave, it seems to be your saving grace. Not because of what's in it, but who's in it.
word count: 8.7k
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Branch after branch hits me in the face- my hair getting caught in the branches more than once as I run from the group of men after me. 
“Stay out of the business of men, Y/N,” my father always told me. Of course, when I spotted the ready-to-beat-a-man in front of his children, I couldn’t sit back and chug a pint. I had nothing better to do. I didn’t think through the part where there were three of them and one of me. 
The plan was running into the forest where the monster stories came from- stories of missing people and blood trails - in hopes they would be too afraid, but by the footfalls following close behind, I can safely determine they are not as fearful as I am of the forest. 
I have no navigation in the pitch black and wood. My lungs feel ready to give up on me, and the noises I hear on my left sound a lot like something ready to pounce on me. But I keep running. 
“Come on, brave one! You wanna jump in to our business? We can do this right now!” One of the men calls from behind me. I’m astounded they have the air to be able to catch up and yell at the same time. 
I attempt a look behind me, my eyes glancing at a small light catching up. Panic rises in me and boils over, tears welling in my eyes, making finding safety even more difficult. 
There’s a dark mass ahead- a cave surrounded by weeds and vines. Pictures of monsters with sharp teeth and blood dribbling down their chin appear in my mind. 
“Get her!” one man calls out. They’re on my tail and I have to make a decision. 
One foot in front of the other until it’s pitch black in the cave. My footsteps echo off of the cave wall and I almost slip in the mud. The sound of splashing water urges me to turn back. Something is in here, and it’s not a bunny. 
I stick close to the wall, unmoving.
Unfortunately for me, a light shines in the cave. 
“There you are,” the one in front says. They all have a hungry look in their eyes that tells me everything I need to know about their intentions.
My eyes sting from the tears welling. I should’ve listened to my father. I should’ve kept to myself. 
The frontman grabs my arm, but I scream when his touch is gone as soon as it’s there. 
Growling mixing with agonizing screams draws my attention. The light is suddenly gone -it’s pitch black and I hear the nervous panting of the other two men. 
The screaming stops and my breath catches, not wanting the creature to hear me. It’s not a second longer when the screams start up and the crunching of bones and ripping and tearing of skin join it. 
The gurgle from the second man doesn’t stop before the third one follows. The screams and noises last for a few moments longer. When it stops, I close my eyes. I’m preparing for the death that is to come, asking any forces out there to grant a quick death and for my father to never have to find me. 
A huff in front of my face pushes my hair from my face. 
I hate the pathetic whimper I give to the creature. 
Its breathing is heavy and similar to that of a dog. 
“I’m sorry I intruded,” I whine, “I didn’t know where else to go,” I whisper. It feels useless to ask for mercy from a creature that most likely can’t understand me. 
However, it doesn’t seem as impossible as I thought when the huffing retreats from me. The hot air is gone, and I’m out of breath when I hear a splashing again- just like the one I heard when I came in.
I squint my eyes, trying to see rather than hear. 
There’s a new panting sound coupled with coughing and spitting, but it sounds human. Nothing like the creature growling deep while it tore men to pieces. 
Feet slap the wet floor, and I continue to hold my breath, not wanting to make any sudden movements. 
“I know you’re there,” a voice calls. It doesn’t sound menacing or annoyed- more matter-of-fact than anything. Rustling sounds move from my right side to across from me. 
A light appears, causing me to cover my eyes with my arm to adjust to the sudden brightness. 
“A ‘thank you’ would have been nice,” the same voice is right in front of me now. I slowly lower my arm, not wanting to be bombarded by light again. 
My eyes glide up to be met with a man’s curious gaze. The light shows off his raised eyebrows and glistening chest. His dark hair sticks to the sides of his face. He must have been the one who was making all the water sounds. I come back down, looking past his legs to the three bodies behind him. I gasp at their state. Torn limbs, popping eyes, frozen faces of shock. 
“Oh, that,” he grimaces. “That is quite the mess I’ll have to clean,” he mumbles. 
“Who are you?” I look back at him. “Did you do that? How-“
”None of these words sound like appreciation,” he crouches down, his head tilting. “Should I have let them have their way with you?” He asks. I look past him again, a rage boiling inside men from the thought of those torn-up hands being on me instead. I shake my head. 
“I’m grateful,” my voice is low. 
“Good enough for now,” he gets up again, moving back to the space across from me. “You can go,” he announces and I’m caught off guard by it. 
That’s it? 
He sets the light down as I stare in amazement. He’s already heaving one body over his shoulder without a struggle.
I slap myself for gawking at his back muscles and the marred skin as he takes one body and starts to carry it out. 
The half-naked man stops in his tracks and slowly turns to me. 
“You can leave at any time, bunny.” I have to stop myself from flinching at the pet name. 
My mind becomes dizzy at the choices of staying or going. This man is new, a mystery, and I can’t help but be curious. He’s the one who saved me and I’m supposed to walk out as if nothing happened? 
“I’d like to help,” before he can reject my offer, I’m picking up a ripped-off arm and a toe tossed away. Nausea rises in my body up to my throat, but I hold it back before I make even more of a mess. 
I’m ready to follow the man out, but his body is fully turned to me now, the body still on his shoulder. I try avoiding his stare by walking past him, but he blocks me. 
His eyes scan me from top to bottom. I shiver under his wandering eyes. 
“What are you doing?”
”It’s the least I could do for intruding your. . . space,” I refer to the cave. “And it’s obvious you saved me from imminent death . . . And worse,” I gulp, and his eyes follow the movement in my throat. 
I wait for him to say anything or reject my offer, but he doesn’t. He turns, the dead expression of the man on his shoulders flinging towards me. I gag at the wounds down his face. 
“If you’re going to do that the whole way, I suggest you go home instead,” he tells me. 
I shake my head, despite the fact that he can’t see me. 
We trek out into the forest, carrying our bodies (and body parts). The lamp attached to his pants lights the way, but I can’t help looking at the way it drags his pants down his hips a tad. His skin is dry now and I notice the scars down his back more easily. 
“You’ll need to clean up afterward,” he says before throwing the body in an empty spot between some trees. “Going home from this forest will have questions thrown at you enough, but coming back with blood? You won’t survive,” he explains. 
I throw the hand and toe on the spot. 
“You sound like you speak from experience,” it’s as if I have a death wish making such a suggestion, but he laughs it off. Maybe I’m not incorrect. After all, there’s a reason he lives in the cave. 
He doesn’t say another word but turns to return to the cave. 
“How long have you been out here?” I try to break the silence. He gives me a look. “You have a made bed and some supplies in that cave of yours, your hair is-” he gives me another look and I stop talking. The hair must be a sensitive topic.
“It's been a few years. . .” 
The shock in my body slows my walking down. Years? 
“Did you run away from home?” 
“Something like that,” he shrugs. 
I don't ask any more questions for fear of seeming more intrusive than I already am.
“Where is your pond of water?” I ask, trying to fling some of the blood on my fingers. 
He freezes at the question. 
“You have one. I heard it,” I walk further into the darkness, hoping to find the small body of water. 
I notice something glistening and take a step towards it. 
But then my feet lose their balance and my back is against the wall. Air leaves my lungs when the man’s face crowds mine, his hands caging me on both sides. 
“Don’t. Touch. That. Water,” he’s panting and I can only see the left side of his face. The anger and anxiety cinching every feature.
I notice the splotch of blood sitting on his eyebrow and lick my finger to rub it off.
He flinches when my finger touches him, but his eyebrow doesn’t relax. 
“I won’t touch it,” I promise. “I apologize,” I plea that he accepts the apology- my life being at risk and whatnot. 
“You don’t owe me anything. Go home,” he breaks away from me turning to gather the next body. 
“How do I know they won’t come for you? That you’ll be okay?” He freezes on the spot again. “I want to help!” I confess. I don’t want to prove my father right. Not about not being able to defend myself and not about being useless to this world. 
He doesn't say a word but looks back at the body left torn on the ground. It's enough to answer my question. 
“I think I'll be alright,” he says. He makes his way out of the cave and I follow after him. 
“There are more guys then where that came from, I can promise you that! They’ll come looking,” I try. I try to convince him tha t we need each other. My hope is that he says yes and lets me figure out the mystery that he is. 
“I handled three and I’ll handle more,” he grunts as he throws the body into the spot. 
“How do you know people won’t find this?” I gesture to the pile of limbs. 
“It’s still night. The monsters will take care of it. Monsters worse than me,” he says with a  low voice, staring directly at me. The words do as he intended. With a shiver running down my spine, I’m officially afraid. 
“I’ll go home,” I tell him, turning away ready to follow the tracks home. 
“You do that,” he makes his way back to the cave. 
“I‘ll be back tomorrow!” I call. 
“No, you won’t!” He calls back before disappearing into the dark. 
***
I keep my promise to return. This time I bring bread and treats with me, hoping something sweet is enough to tame the beast. I’m not sure what kind of beast he really is, but what does it matter if he doesn’t hurt me?
It’s clear I haven’t learned my lesson last night by getting into “men’s business”. This man is only half man, so it counts. I suppose. 
A leaf crunches behind me, and I swivel to confront whoever’s following me, but Im only met with the sight of a misty forest wind moving through grass and dirt. 
“Y-yeah! You better not fuck with me!” I cringe at my voice wavering on the swear word. 
“You really spooked them away, bunny,” a deep chuckle sounds behind me. 
I swirl to look at the scarred man, a smirk spreading across his face. He approaches me casually, like any man on the street would- except he has no shirt, and his hair is still tousled, and his pants are ripped in different areas. 
“Your anxiety is palpable,” he says, tilting his head at me, while tapping a finger top my chin. 
“I’m not scared of anything,” I lie. 
“I know your idea here is to be brave, but you can’t be brave if you have nothing to fear,” his hand taps the sack hanging in my hand. “What’s this?” he asks. 
I hold the bag to him, the smell of fresh bread and cake wafting around us. 
“For you,” I push it towards him as his eyebrow lifts. “I don’t have any money, but my father and I can bake pretty well,” I shove it towards him again, but he continue s to stare at me. “Yes. It’s a bribe, but I’d like to show you that this team,” I point to him and myself, “can work out pretty well.”
“And why do you want to be a team?” he asks, his arms crossing over his chest, his biceps protruding. I gulp at them, then catch myself looking back at the man. The smirk tells me he noticed me checking him out. 
“I’d like to do more in town, but with the risk of being killed, I can’t do it as much as I’d like. I want your help. For protection,” I propose. I realize the more I talk, the more my body caves in. I quickly adjust to lift my chin and he chuckles at me. 
His eyes narrow, then surprise. I try to process the shock on his face.
“You-” his arms uncross and I wait for his words. 
“What?” I ask. His eyes cut deep into mine and I suddenly feel awkward in my spot. 
He relaxes again, back to his normal composure. “You’ve got a deal,” he announces. Before I can ask him what that was, he’s already turning away and heading in the opposite direction. I try to make out some of the shapes in his back.
I quickly avert my eyes when he looks back at me and start to follow him.
“I brought some other things as well,” I show the bag in my other hand. “Another peace offering, but also . . . basic hygiene,” I shake the bag in excitement. The girls in town never let me braid their hair, but it’s alright. There’s someone who needs my services more anyway. 
He doesn’t say much, only continues to walk and even cleans sticks and rocks from the ground. 
“It’s a bit useless to clean the forest isn’t it?” I ask. 
“It’s meant to be a path, so that you can easily find your way back and forth,” his words catch me off guard. It’s a small gesture, but it’s nice to know he’s keeping me in mind when he does. 
I gawk at him for a few moments longer until the noise of running water breaks me out of the trance. We come up on a small creek dug into the ground. This is no cave. 
“I didn’t see this last night,” I whisper. 
“We didn’t come here last night,” he points out. I give him a questioning look, for him to answer in a shrug, “You said you have a few things for hygiene and a couple of treats - let’s have a picnic, bunny,” I shake my head at the nickname. 
“Why do you call me that?”
“I’m big. You're small. I thought that was obvious,” he raises a branch for me and I pass through. 
“It wasn’t that obvi-”
“Where did you say you came from?” he suddenly asks from behind me. 
“I come from the town just outside of here,” I tell him, turning to face him. He hums in answer. “Have you ever been there? It’s right outside of this forest,” his face scrunches, contemplating. 
“I’m from the cave, that’s it. Now that we’ve gotten introductions out of the way-” he pulls the torn-up pants down his legs and I gasp at the muscles on him. He could crush a man’s head with those thighs. “Let’s get to that wash,” he says, a hint of excitement touching his tone. 
He steps down, slowly, into the water.  
I put a fingertip in the water. I hiss at the cold, but he seems entirely unphased. He seems to enjoy it if anything. 
I admire the way he’s able to bask in the cold water. 
“Alright, what’s next, bunny? Where’s the soap at?” he calls. 
“How do you know about soap?” I had assumed he never joined society. I gather my bag, bringing out soap, sponge, a hairbrush, and a pair of nail clippers. I grab the hairbrush first, waving him over.
“I haven’t always been out here,” he explains, slowly making his way towards me. His back faces me, and despite him being taller than me, I still can’t reach him at a comfortable position. 
“Can you just . . . come a little closer?” I reach again, only able to reach so far without falling into the water. 
He leans backwards, not able to step back without slipping on the tilted creek floor. I reach for his hair, and I’m able to brush it, but the angle is uncomfortable. I try to brush the strands lower, by his neck, but my arms quickly tire. 
“Hold on- Just-” I say, trying to fix my posture. 
His head turns to give me a side-eye, and I watch him roll his eyes. 
“I know something that might help,” he gestures to me to lean over just a bit more. I try my best to have my body hover over the water without falling in. 
The man leans over to grab me underneath my arms - my scream muffled by the water rushing into my mouth. My feet are able to reach the ground and thrust me to the surface. 
My ears fill with the sound of his laughter once they clear out. I turn to him slowly, the cold water causing my eyes to twitch and my body to shiver . . . Or is that the anger? 
“What is wrong with you!” I swear the birds get spooked at my yelling. “I am trying to help.”
“You're trying to butter me up. I already said I would do what you asked, there’s no need to cater to me any more,” his arms reach up to brush his hair back, but his fingers catch easily in the knots. “I brush with my fingers,” he says, proudly. 
Despite my anger, I draw closer to him, his breathing slowing as he looks down at me. 
“While brushing with fingers could work . . .” I start. I grab his arm and pull him to where his back is facing me again. I try not to stare at the obvious scars in different sizes and shapes running down his back. “It’s not going to do all the work. Trust me, the brush will make you feel lighter.” The weight of my clothing drags me down a smidge but I ignore it. I start at the bottom of his long, dark strands. I expect to hear a ‘hiss’ or feel a flinch on some of the knots, but he doesn’t. He actually seems relaxed. His head leans back and a hum occasionally sounds from him. 
I pour more water on his head, following the line down his spine until it meets the water at his waist. I admire hsi figure, dragging a finger down the same path as the water, sometimes detouring to some of the scars. 
I kick myself out of the trance, and when I look back up to focus on the hair again, his head is already slightly turned to look at me. 
“Um, I’m sorry. I got curious,” I admit. 
“About?”
“What your skin would feel like. I don’t think I’ve seen so many scars,” I say. His eyebrows pinch. “I don’t mean that as a bad thing. It’s new. And intriguing. And you should tell me about them,” I add a smile, hoping it’s enough to convince him. 
“You ask for a lot. I’ve saved your life, isn’t that enough from me? If anything I should be asking you for more,” his arms cross. I snort at how pouty it makes him look. 
“Well, I’m brushing your hair aren’t I? You know how many other men’s hair I’ve brushed?” 
He turns in genuine interest. 
“No one. No other man’s hair! And!” I reach for the bag sitting on the edge of the creek, ready to fall in. I dig through the bag, revealing another gift - a bar of lavender soap. “How many people have I given soap to? Zero,” I push it towards him, the bar leaving white residue on my fingers. 
He reluctantly takes it, eyeing it, then me, then it. 
“I’m not sure this is the compliment you-”
“Ungratefulness is not very becoming of you,” I interrupt. 
His eyes peer up at me from under his eyelashes. “I’m still a bit sore, you know, from saving your life,” he says. I nod in understanding. “I’ll need help using this,” he hands me the bar. 
I freeze my hands from playing with the water. I scan his face for any sign of joking, but he continues to hold it to me. 
I take it, and he steps closer immediately, his body towering over mine. My attempt at not appearing nervous doesn’t work. 
“I’ll do it if you can answer one question,” I tell him. He rolls his eyes but agrees. “Why is the water in the cave off-limits but the creek isn’t?” He’s initially annoyed by the question, but I watch him relax.
“It changes me. It’s the reason I was able to become the monster that helped you,” he flinches when I start to lather him in soap. Creek water isn’t the cleanest, but it’s all I have to make the soap softer. “The reason I couldn’t let you go in it is because it’s not something you easily come out of,”he explains. My hand trails over his abdomen and up his sides, he inhales sharply, but recovers quickly. 
“What exactly do you turn into?” 
“Half human, half dog, half beast. There are too many ways to describe it. It doesn’t help that at first you aren’t aware that you’re something else. It takes a couple of tries to not lose your mind. Some have succumbed to the madness, and others take it, go into town, cause chaos, and get themselves killed.” His eyes are distant as he talks. There’s something that tells me he is talking from experience. “It doesn’t help that when I take that form of the beast, it drains my energy. My human energy isn’t meant for a big body with that strength. It’s draining.” 
“Are you the only one now, besides me, who knows about it?” I reach his neck, noticing a big difference in cleanliness. 
He nods in answer. 
“You haven’t lost your mind, though. Why are you different?” he shrugs at my question. 
“I had a good mentor, at first,” his eyes turn down, “I also had a lot of motivation, I guess,” he holds his arms forward for me to wash. 
“What was your motivation?” 
He waits - the crickets nearby and the trees still. 
“You’ve asked much more than one question now. The focus should be on getting this dirt off of me,” he wades over to the edge. “You should get my legs too,” he lifts one onto the wall and I screw my eyes shut, squealing- the sound of his laughter a massage to my brain.
***
The next day it’s raining. I cover myself with the sack that I brought for Jungkook (a name I learned while I was soaping his legs - truly a heartwarming moment.) This time it has a few shirts I stole from my father. 
Jungkook told me I shouldn’t come back again at the risk of someone catching onto the fact that I was going into the forest too often. Judging by the trees surrounding me, I didn’t listen. I’ve checked my surroundings a million times before coming in. 
A noise behind me makes me jump, but I start humming to soothe the nerves. I brought Jungkook a small cupcake with a bunny iced on the top. It’s a bit wet now from the rain, but I’m almost certain he’ll still like it. 
After our day at the creek yesterday, I feel like he knows me better than anyone. The only thing I haven’t figured out is why he decides to stay out here instead of joining the rest of society. Well, when I truly think about it, I guess I can understand why he wouldn’t want to. 
I release a breath when I arrive at the cave, grateful that I didn’t forget where it is. 
“Jungkook?” I call as I walk in. My lantern is able to light up the slick walls. There’s running and shuffling until I approach him. He’s sitting criss-cross on the ground on a sheet, wide-eyed and open mouthed. “Jungkook? What are you doing?” I slowly approach him. 
“Nothing. Sitting here,” he says it too quickly to believe him. 
“What do you have behind you?”
“What’s that in your hand?” he nods to the cupcake I’m holding- the picture of the bunny looks a bit sad now. I don’t miss the way he decided to change the subject, but I can’t be bothered to bring it back up. He’ll have to move eventually. 
“It was a cupcake,” I step closer and sit in front of him, he tenses a bit, “but the rain kind of . . .” I show it to him. He looks at it and I think I see a smile spreading across his face. I have to check twice that it’s not a teasing smile, but what I thought was true. He’s looking at it fondly.
He reaches for it, releasing whatever’s behind him. 
“Thanks, Bunny,” he says. He doesn’t eat it but sets it beside him instead. 
“Are you going to tell me what’s behind you now?” I ask. He’s right back to being tense. His mouth opens and closes, resembling a fish, and before he can say anything else, a voice yells out. We freeze and look out the mouth of the cave. 
“Where the fuck did she go?” a man yells out again. Even with the rain, I can hear him clearly, meaning he’s too close. “Keep going! That bitch definitely had something to do with their disappearance!” he announces. 
They know. They must be friends of those men’s whose bodies we dumped - and they followed me here. 
Shit. How many times do I have to tell myself that I should have listened?
“Jungkook . . .” I whisper, but he’s already standing when I turn. 
“Stay here. I’ll take care of it,” he demands. The gentle Jungkook who accepted my soggy cupcake is gone - replaced with a Jungkook who looks ready to drown someone in the very creek water we swam in. 
“I’ll come with you,” I get ready to stand.
“Y/N . . . I appreciate it, but please don’t. It was always me who was supposed to take care of it. I’d feel a lot better if you stayed here,” with that, he jumps in the water. Meanwhile, I’m still caught up in how he knew my name. Jungkook may have fessed up his own, but I never did the same. 
His beast rushes out of the water and I have no time to take a glance at him. His gray skin is the only thing I spot paired with a panting noise as he runs out. 
Waiting in the cave for a mere three seconds is already torture. The waiting is agony especially when I can’t hear anything and not knowing how many followed me into the forest. 
I occupy myself by looking around the cave, not that there’s much to look at. I spot the thing Jungkook was holding behind his back. It looks like a bracelet but made with flowers and grass. I smile at it. Jungkook hiding his soft side makes the bracelet all the more special. 
A roar yanks my attention away. Yelling and screams rise above the rain from multiple people- more than three. I can’t just sit here. I can’t. 
The rain drops are cool against my skin and I pick up a long stick as I run in the direction of the chaos. 
My confidence in being able to help is not high, but my motivation is. There’s a pained whimper this time from Jungkook. My feet move faster now. It doesn’t matter if they can hear me coming to them as long as I’m able to get there- as long as he isn’t alone. 
A choked sound comes from below me. One of the men Jungkook dealt with reaches out with the one arm he has left. His mouth forms the words “Help me,” but I look away before he can say anything else.
Leaves crunching and sounds of a struggle lead me to a clearing. Bodies are scattered in every part of the clearing, unmoving. There are a few bodies beyond the trees as well. This was much more than the three men Jungkook dealt with in the cave. 
The beast himself sits in the middle. His skin is gray and slimy with hair in very few places. This form is indeed much bigger than the Jungkook I know.
 I quickly approach without saying a word and examine his condition. He’s lying on his side, his breathing shallow. There are a few scratches on his sides and a gash down his face. He’s exhausted and I think back to when he said the beast form is not meant for him to stay in for a long time. His body exhausts easily and if he used a majority of it on fighting these men- 
Damn it. I should’ve asked what happens when that energy is spent. Of all the times I have been nosy in my life and I couldn’t do it in such a crucial moment. 
Jungkook’s beast eye peers up at me and huffs. I ignore the scolding and focus on how I’m going to help him. The pond is too big to be brought to him, so I’m going to have to bring him to it. I don’t let the thought of “How?” linger in my mind too long before I’m picking up his legs and dragging him with as much force as I can bear. 
His groan is quiet behind me. 
“Don’t speak! Don’t do anything!” I yell. I avoid one or two bodies. I haven’t made it far and my arms and back are aching. 
“Use your legs, or you’ll do some damage to your back,” Father’s words echo in my mind. He’s told me so many wise things and yet I can never listen. It’s how I’m in this predicament in the first place. It’s the reason Jungkook is dying. 
My throat closes as tears well up in my eyes. 
“I’m not letting you die.” 
***
Jungkook is practically on the brink of death when I dump him in the pool of water. The lantern lights the red stringing through the water and I cross my fingers that he doesn’t drown. 
“Please, please, please,” I whisper, screwing my eyes shut, a tear falling as a result. “You’re my only friend, Jungkook. . .” I whisper. “Don’t leave.” 
As soon as the words escape me, a head surfaces above the water. I’m on my knees in an instance reaching for him. He’s still very heavy when I pull him in, but nothing compared to when he was the beast. 
“You’re okay!” I wrap my arm around his neck and pull him in. He hugs me back for only a second before I feel his body limp and fall. “Jungkook? Jungkook!” I call for him, but his breathing is weak. I pull him to where his sheet is, laying him gently. His eyes close and he enters sleep. I notice a bit of blood dripping down his face and sides from the battle.
I make sure his breathing is okay then leave him to rush back into town on a mission to take anything that could save him.
***
It’s the second day since Jungkook was attacked and it’s raining again. He’s woken up a few times for water, but nothing else. The bandages on his waist glare at me as I sit on the opposite side of the cave, humming a song, playing with the bracelet he has yet to finish. 
“I can’t believe you don’t remember,” his voice pipes up. I rush to him, a cup of water in hand from the creek. “I’d thought at least by now-” I put a finger to his lips- the rasp of his voice anxiety inducing. 
“You need to save your energy. We can talk when you’re back to being normal,” I tip the cup into his mouth, and he takes it. When I’m done, he sits up despite my protests. 
“I thought you liked the fact I wasn’t normal,” he whispers, his eyes off in the distance. I ignore the words seeing as that’s not my priority. “And I’m not talking about now. I’m talking about back then,” he meets my eyes now, then glides down to the bracelet I’m wearing. I’m ready to question what he means when I look at the bracelet. 
It’s like a key now. A key to a memory I put away a long time ago. 
***
11 years ago
“Keep crying. ‘S not like there’s anyone who’s gonna help you,” the blonde kid, nicknamed Jester, hits the boy again and I flinch behind the wall. “Where’s your parents?” Kicks him again and gestures for his friend to join in - and he does. 
I can’t watch this anymore. 
“Stop fucking with me-” before Jester can kick him again, I jump in, putting my body in front of the one who’s on the ground. 
“What is wrong with you two!” I yell out. 
“Mind your business, Y/N!” he tries to push me but I won’t budge. Finally, my height does something other than be the butt of every joke in town. Father always said I was an early bloomer and that my height could be an advantage. I didn’t see that until now. 
“Fuck you!” I spit at him, surprised at my own cursing. If he was angry before, he’s enraged now. His fist reels back, and I see it coming, but the boy behind me rushes him, tackling Jester. His friend looks to me. Before he can make any moves, I rush up to him and swing my leg up to his middle, hitting my target right between the legs. 
“Run!” I yell. With one down we should be okay. 
The boy gets off of the blonde and runs to me, taking my hand and leading me into the forest. I don't know where he's taking me, but if I saved him that means he won't hurt me, right?
We slow to a cave entrance. He turns to me, but doesn’t say anything. 
“Are you okay?” I ask him, noticing the cut under his eye. He nods, still not saying a word. “Those boys are assholes,” I cover my mouth at the bad word. “Sorry, but it’s true,” he laughs at me. I can’t believe he’s laughing at me after I saved his life. Then, I find myself laughing with him and it’s strange. 
He gestures for me to follow him deeper in the forest. 
We find a spot where he finally kneels on the ground and I follow.
“Do they usually pick on you?” I ask. He nods slowly and moves his sleeve to show scars and fresh cuts on his shoulder. I make the note in my mind that next time I’ll bring something to help heal those. 
His hands work and kneed in the grass and  grabs a few flowers that are scattered in different places. I see a bug on the trunk of the tree, my eyes trailing up the tree trunk that it travels. Where is it going to go?
A tap on my shoulder takes my attention away. I look down at the boy holding a small bracelet in his hands. He holds it to me, and I take it, trying not to break it. The little flowers spread throughout it tickle my hand. 
“For me?” I ask and he nods his head. 
“It’s to say ‘Thank You’,”  my heart is surprised when I finally hear his voice. 
“Hey. You wanna be my friend? I don’t have any,” I say.
His head moves so fast up and down. Finally! I found someone who likes me!
***
“You. . .” I whisper to him, his heavy eyelids covering his eyes staring back at me. 
“Me,” he looks at the bracelet sitting in the palm of his hand. I’m grateful he’s distracted while I process the new revelations. 
I push up from the ground and head for the exit, quickly stepping out into the rain.
“Y/N? Y/N!” he calls from behind me. I ignore him and try to keep my tears at bay. “Stop!” he yells. I hate that I do as he says, as if I’m his dog. He steps in front of me, and I turn away. “What’s wrong? Did I say something?” He tries to make eye contact with me and when I refuse, he uses a finger on my chin, the touch heating my face. 
“You can try to remind me of the good memories, Jungkook, but don’t forget those good times lasted for a week and you left,” I try to tame the way my voice is breaking. “You were my first friend and then you disappeared. I thought I was cursed for months!” a tear rolls down my cheek. He blinks. Once. Twice. “I get it. That was a long time ago and maybe it didn’t matter to you, but it does to me,” he shakes his head.
“Of course it matters, Y/N. You were my only friend and-”
“Then why did you leave me? Why didn’t you say anything? I risked so much going into the woods to find you.” Scenes of 10 year-old me play out in my head - screaming for Jungkook to come back until my throat itched, poisoning and rashes running down my legs. 
“It was going to be my first time in the pool,” his voice is low, “I wasn’t ready, but my mother was dying. Your very precious town was sending search parties to hunt us down. She couldn’t protect herself or me anymore, so I had to do it. I didn’t want to scare you,” his hand lowers back to his side and he takes a deep breath. “I was going through weeks of training myself and when my mom died and I got a hold of it, I went to try and find you, but I wasn’t finding you and it was too risky,” he explains. 
My heart cracks at the mention of his mother. I know what it’s like to lose a parent, but he only had her.  
“You should have told me. . .” 
“I wanted to. Trust me, Y/N. I did. But I wanted to figure out everything first before I jumped into it with you. I was also a kid at the time too. I didn’t have someone to guide me. Everyone hated me without being a beast. Could you imagine my fear of what would happen if they found out I am one? Especially with all the rumors and stories going around?” he argues. It’s a solid explanation. This was a long time ago and we were children. “When I saw you again and recognized that it was you, something I wanted more than anything, is for you not to be afraid of me. Your opinion, after a week, was the most important to me.”
Tears start to well up again. 
“Just like your opinion is most important to me now,” he whispers, stepping closer. I swallow the lump in my throat. His hair sticks to the sides of his head, some strands covering his eyes that are looking down at me. Goosebumps spread up and down my arms as heat bubbles in my stomach. 
“If you’re lying-”
“Don’t even think that,” he takes another step closer. I gasp when his hand wraps around my waist and pulls me to him, our chests touching and my hands resting on his arms. My thoughts are a jumbled mess and all I can ask is how this escalated so quickly. “Don’t go this time. I know I always tell you to leave, but I’m telling you to stay now.” 
My eyes blink and I’d like to blame it on the raindrops falling into my eyes, but I’m afraid to admit it’s because of how flustered I am at the stare he’s giving me. 
“And where do you get off on telling me what to do?”
“Can I be honest?”
“I’d like it if you were.”
“I think you like it when I tell you what to do.” It’s not the words I was expecting, but I don’t dislike it either. It’s also not false. “Do you want me, Y/N?” he whispers on my lips. “Tell me.” 
“Yes,” I say it a bit too quickly. 
Just when I think he’s going to plant his lips on mine, he instead asks, “Why?” The question is not hard to answer, but it is one that is difficult to say. 
“You’re the only person who makes me feel wanted in return,” I tell him. It’s honest and a much better answer than ‘You’re really hot’. “I don’t want to lose you, Jungkook,” I admit. “So, if you’re going to leave again you might as well-” 
His soft lips interrupt me - finally! 
A list of things I could be doing right now scrolls through my mind, yet none of them seem as important or as enticing as this is. If I could describe what this kiss is like, I don’t think that I could. No one has kissed me like this in the past. Nothing in the world can compare to the way that he holds me tightly against him, massaging the skin on my waist, while our mouths move in sync and rainwater mixes in with our saliva. 
His hands place pressure on hips and I respond by moving backward until I hit a tree. Now that I have back support, his lips push into me harder and I whimper into his mouth. He responds with a moan that runs straight to my core. 
We separate, breathing into each other. 
“It’s raining,” I say, my clothing completely stuck to me by now. 
“It’s not gonna stop me, but tell me if it’s going to stop you,” he brushes a hair away from my face and that’s when I can’t wait anymore. I want him too much to stop now, so I shake my head in answer. 
“I don’t want anything else to stop us,” I hook my fingers into his loose pants and bring him closer. The corner of his lips tilt up and his fingers crawl on the side of my neck before pulling me closer to him. 
The only thing I can pray for is that there are no more men who have decided to take on Jungkook and are still lurking in the forest, but that seems to be the last thing on his mind when he grinds into me. I moan into his mouth and he swallows it before leaning down to kiss my neck. I arch into him as he gets lower at the same time tickling the skin under my shirt as he lifts it up and over my head.
The rain is cold on me, but it’s worth it when his eyes stay on my perky nipples. 
“I-” he gulps. Not so mouthy now. 
“You can touch me, if you want,” I hate the way I sound so eager. I thought I would be able to play it cool, similar to the time I first lost my virginity (with a complete douchebag), but Jungkook makes me too nervous to ‘play it cool’. The way his eyes darken when he scans every inch of me, and the way he looks ready to devour me does the opposite of calming me down. 
I can only pray to any force out there that I make him feel the way he makes me feel. 
“I’ll do more than touch,” the palm of his hand skims the side of my breast, and he leans in. “I’ll do anything to show you you’re mine,” he whispers into my ear. The adrenaline is almost too much - I’m aching for him. 
“Then show me what it’s like to be yours,” I whisper back. 
He doesn’t look at me, his eyes stay on my lips for a few moments, then he moves down, taking one tit into his mouth leaving me breathless. His fingers tweak the other one, occasionally switching. 
“Jungkook- ah!” I gasp. He presses and gropes, then instant repeats. His skin is touching mine in every spot while his tongue continues its ministrations on my chest. I grab onto his hair in case I faint and lean my head onto the tree. The worry of getting bugs on me disappears when he nibbles on my skin. 
“I can’t wait much longer,” he sighs when coming back up. His fingers slide into my pants, and push into the space between my legs. I don’t expect it and cry into his mouth. “I don’t want to rush, bunny, but I can tell you’re as desperate as I am.”
I want to argue that I’m not, but it would be a lie. And it’s hard to argue with his fingers pumping in and out of me. He starts to kiss on my neck while his thumb joins in rubbing my clit. I feel a tension building in my stomach, then the knot unties and I release onto his hand. 
I’m still on my high when his fingers slip out and he licks them clean. I watch him and I’m prepared to do anything for this man. He already looks fucked out and I haven’t done anything to him. His hair is a mess but it’s a result of the rain mixed with my fingers moving it every which way. 
“Now I know you’re ready,” he pants. His pants fall to the ground, revealing the hard-on standing up. It isn’t fair that even his cock is perfect too. 
His eyes fall to my pants. 
“Can I. . . ?” he asks. I nod, slow. 
His hands are gentle as he peels my pants down my legs. I’m suddenly self-conscious when they come down, afraid of him spotting any hair or any marks but if he notices them, he doesn’t bring them up. 
“I’ve been thinking about this the past few days. How I’ll make you mine, how I’ll make you scream for me, how I’ll take care of you every day after. . .” He rambles before putting his lips on me again, the kiss frantic and wild, our tongues mixing all while pulling me closer, his hands move to my bare ass. “Jump,” he whispers, and I follow his instruction. 
My back hits the tree and our centers touch, bare skin to bare skin. It’s almost overwhelming. I feel as if I’m going to fall, but he makes it look so easy holding me. My heart grows ten times. 
“Why are you looking at me like that?” He draws me out of my head with a curious glance. I shrug, not really knowing how to explain it, but he still doesn’t move, waiting. “Are you regretting this?”
I hit him on the shoulder. “How could you say that when I’m still here and fully naked mind you!” 
“Then what was that look?” 
“I just . . .” I pause. It’s nerve-wracking to be vulnerable in front of him. I’m already naked physically, but to be emotionally naked is different. “I keep thinking about how perfect you are.” There’s a surprise written all over his face. “Don’t think for a second I would regret this, even if we are in the middle of a downpour,” I instruct. 
A small smile appears on his face. 
“You’re perfect for me,” he plants a kiss on my lips before he turns his attention down to adjust himself. He slides into me slowly and a whimper leaves my throat. His hand soothes me, massaging the skin on my butt. 
His head falls onto my shoulder, and we stay like that for a few moments as he inches in. 
When he starts to move, I already feel the tree scratching my bare back, but I don’t mind the pain with pleasure. 
Every part of the front of me slides against him and the rest of my body feels sticky from the humidity. It’s messy, but I can’t imagine this any other way. 
His breathing grows heavy as he thrusts into me. His jaw is clenched as he lifts me up and down. 
“You’re beautiful. I wish you could see what I’m seeing,” he breathes. “Y/N, oh God, Y/N,” he groans. His words set off a spark in me bigger than before. It’s good to know that even when I’m naked, sticky, messy, he can still see me as beautiful. “I should’ve kept those guys alive and let them watch,” his tone is different now. “I should have let them watch what they couldn’t have.” 
“Jungkook, pelase -” 
He balances me on one arm, using the other to hold the side of my head while he kisses me. 
“I’m almost- oh gosh,” I cry, but before I can jump over the edge he slides out of me. “Jungkook? What are you-?”
I hold onto him when he moves and puts me onto the wet dirt. It’s cold and slushy at first, then warms up at the same time Jungkook hovers over me. 
“This is how I always dreamt about you with me,” he says, and slides into me again, my heels locking around his waist and on his back. His body weight rests on me as he moves again and his head falls into my neck. 
It doesn’t take long to get me right back to the edge, and from the way his thrusts are getting messier, he’s going to meet me there. 
“Jungkook!” I cry as I spill onto him and he does the same. 
I notice it’s not raining anymore when all the noise and movement stops.We lay there for a few moments in the quiet after he slides out of me, however, his weight is still resting on me. 
“Is your penis gone when you turn into a beast?” I ask, killing the silence. He laughs into my shoulder then lifts his head. 
“Why? Do you wanna fuck him too?” he suggests. I smack his shoulder. “Thank you, by the way. I know dragging a beast the same weight of a tree was not the easiest. You didn’t have to.”
“Of course I had to,” I argue. “You’ve saved me more than once now. The least I could do was try one time.”
“You helped me twice, actually,” he says. I’m back to when we were kids. 
“And there might be many more times after this,” I put a hand on his cheek. 
“And I’ll save you each,” he plants a kiss on my lips, “and every,” another kiss, “time,” a more passionate one. We stay naked on that floor for hours, looking up into the trees, wondering what life or death situation we’ll have to save each other from tomorrow. 
1K notes · View notes
lucidfairies · 1 year ago
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money [a.a]
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pairing: ceo!abby x secretary!reader
synopsis: when you finally land the job of your dreams, you had no idea what your boss would be like. and damn, no idea you conjured could've done her justice.
warnings: top!abby, bottom!reader, age gap (reader is in her 20s, abby is in her early 40s), cunnilingus (r/a receiving), strap (r!receiving), praise + degradation, mommy kink, dirty talk, manhandling, pet names (sweetheart, sweet girl, angel, baby, whore, slut)
word count: 3.3k
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it wasn't everyday that you landed a job with one of the most well known law firms in washington. for now you were just a secretary, someone to sit outside of an office and take calls, but your hope was to work your way up to one of their lawyers.
you had little prior experience with being a secretary, but it was just enough to get you this gig. the building was large, and the office you were to assist was on one of the highest floors, naturally where the head of the firm was.
you knew her, abby anderson. incredibly talented lawyer who even won over a supreme court case. though you hadn't met her in person, you were exhilarated to meet her. she was who you dreamed to be, especially by her age.
it wasn't until your third day, when abby was finally in the office, when you got a glimpse of what working here would actually look like. abby showed up in a well pressed black suit, armani logo drilling into your eyes like a laser, making you feel all that underdressed.
"do I know you?" she asked when you knocked gently on her office door and went in. she truly didn't mean to be rude - her son had been sick for three days and she was feeling it now - but you didn't know that. you automatically assumed she was an asshole, and that threw you off.
you cleared your throat, meeting her eyes and immediately shifting them again. she was intimidating, almost scary. "I'm y/n. I'm your new assistant." she looked you up and down, gaze still burning your skin, and the corner of her mouth turned up to a smirk.
"great. I take my coffee black, nothing in it. there will be a card on your desk that you can charge it to every morning. get yourself something. I expect you to leave before I do, as I stay late. by any chance, do you babysit?" your eyes found hers as you finally looked up.
"I mean, I can. I used to when-" she cut you off, uninterested in anything except the yes. you noted that for later.
"I might need you to pick up my son from school every couple weeks. not often, and certainly not until I've run a background check on you." she wasn't hardly looking at you now, eyes flipping between her papers and computer. "did I miss anything?"
"no ma'am," you said, standing up and instinctively wiping off your skirt, though there was nothing there. suddenly you were back at your desk, waiting for calls and bookings to come in while trying to make sense of that interaction.
the next day you arrived late, but in your defense, the line at the coffee place was long and traffic was even longer, and now you weren't even sure that the coffee was hot. abby was there when you gently knocked on her door, allowing your entry with a low 'come in.
"I'm so sorry I'm late, there was really bad traffic and the line-"
"it's okay, sweet girl." your stomach flipped. yesterday, when your eyes knew nothing but the floor, you hadn't exactly taken in her appearance, but today. today.
today she was in a black turtleneck, sleeves right around the muscle in her arms that just made her look so, so good. her black slacks were tight at her hips with a belt, and they were hugging her legs so tight that you were sure the seam would rip.
her hair was pulled into a nice bun and she wore no makeup, not that she ever needed to. she had freckles, beautiful eyes. rings. she had rings, that she could put inside of you any day.
"I'll be on time tomorrow, miss." your gaze dropped again as you turned to leave her office. this was surely going to be nothing but torture for the following months.
two weeks later was the first time she asked you to stay late. you originally had plans, but the way your name dripped off of her tongue like honey made you immediately cancel them. she had asked you politely to pick up her son, and you even acquired her number from the ordeal.
dealing with kids was not your specialty, but abby's son was a delight. he talked all about his mom, some about his dad and it made you wonder if abby was single or not. she never wore a ring to your knowledge, not even on a necklace, and from your speculation she almost looked like a lesbian. maybe you were just dreaming about the end.
if you had taken your apartment and multiplied it by ten, it still wouldn't be half the size of abby's house. she truly did have money, if the armani suits and porsche didn't say that already.
an hour into your babysitting, which almost just felt like hanging out with a kid in a mansion, abby got home. she walked in, greeting you with the first real smile you had ever seen on her face. your brain malfunctioned when you gently placed her hand on your arm and pressed an innocent kiss onto your cheek.
you were blushing profusely, pupils blown, almost dizzy, all she did was kiss your cheek, a very normal way of greeting someone and you were fucked. abby didn't fail to see you run your fingers over the spot and look at them before quickly turning back towards the two of them.
abby lived for it. lived for the you drooled over everything she did, lived for the way that she was sure her fingers would look so, so good in your mouth... and she tried not to think about it. how could she, when her son was standing right next to her, trying to tell her about his day, and you. you just looked so innocent.
you were engulfed in her smell, the perfect balance of pine and amber and erotica. she smelled like five hundred dollar cologne right off the shelf of valentino. you wanted to smell like that, wanted to smell like that, wanted to wear her clothes and have everyone think that you were together.
"thanks for coming, sweetheart. I'll see you on monday." you looked at her with your brows knit, knowing you had work the following day, friday. "take the day off. you did something for me, and I'm repaying you. use my card and get something."
the amount of money she had to just throw around was so attractive to you. she was an independent woman who brought in millions every year and was letting some secretary she had known for three weeks let buy anything on a day off.
monday had arrived, and you had purchased nothing with abby's card, naturally. you weren't one to spend someone's money just because they had a lot of it, or because they told you to. she would've had to buy it for you to accept it, at that.
it was nearing eleven when abby called you into her office by your first name, instead of one of the many nicknames she always seems to use. "sit." she demanded as you stepped in, and you did so.
"is something wrong, ms. anderson?" she wasn't mad, but she was irritated. she told you to do something, told you to put yourself first and you didn't.
"I told you to treat yourself on friday," her gaze left her laptop and met your eyes. "why didn't you?" you blanked for a moment.
"I just.. I didn't feel right spending money that wasn't mine." she gave you a disapproving look, before getting up and coming around her desk to stand in front of you. in a matter of moments, one of her large hands was grabbing your jaw and forcing your head up to look at her.
she bent down slightly, lips grazing over yours, and you were sure she could feel how much your face heated up. "next time I tell you to do something, you're going to do it. understand, sweet girl?"
"I don't-" your pupils were blown and you were so desperate for her to press her lips just a bit closer, fill the gap and just let you have it.
"say 'yes abby'."
"y-yes abby." she let go of your face and went back to her desk, pretending to pay you little attention, but she was acutely aware of the way you pushed your thighs together and squirmed.
"you're dismissed. I expect to see a charge by the morning." you got up and hurried out, going straight to the bathroom. your face was burning up, and you could vaguely see an imprint from her hand.
you were meaninglessly circling the mall, trying to decide what to spend this newfound money on. obviously you wouldn't get something big and glamorous, no matter how much she seemingly wanted you to.
every time you walked, you seemed to pass victoria's secret. It seemed like it was calling you to buy something, and after that interaction with abby earlier, you decided that maybe you should treat yourself and went in.
you looked around for a while before finding a cute blue set, with embroidered, lacy flowers. it was nothing special, just transparent and high waisted, but it was speaking to you. suddenly you knew what you were wearing to work the next day.
- - -
you felt completely scandalous wearing a short little skirt over the lingerie in the morning, with a button down, where the first few buttons were unbuttoned. it was different from your usual dress pants and blouse, but it definitely did what you needed it to do.
work was as usual for the majority of the morning, and you were suddenly doubting why you wore what you did. there was no point, you were seriously delusional and seriously needed help. what kind of freak where's lingerie and completely inappropriate work clothes to work after one minor interaction with their boss?
that was until you got a simple email from ms. anderson herself, reading nothing but;
my office. now, please.
you cleared your throat, brushed out your hair slightly and adjusted your shirt before nonchalantly entering her office. you sat, observing the way she remained quiet for a moment before clearing her desk and turning her attention towards you.
“did you think I wouldn't realize?” she asked, cooly, with her eyebrows raised slightly. “I mean, props to you, you did as you were told. but I checked the card. I'm not the only one who can see the transactions on that card either, sweetheart.”
you were immediately red. who else could see them? “I didn't r-really think-”
“no, you didn't. I bet the men in my finances would love to see you dancing around in whatever you bought, wouldn't they, baby?” she was standing before you could think, hands resting on the handles of your chair. “why don't you show me, huh? I know you're wearing it.”
“I'm not- we can't do that here.” you looked around, though you knew no one would ever bother her and her office had no cameras. “we're at work, abigail.” there was a fast switch in her eyes, the way they went from cocky to wide, almost needy.
“fuck,” her head dropped into the crook of your neck before she ran her nose along your jaw. “say it again. please, baby.” her tone, the gentle pleading made any rational thoughts disappear from your mind. your hand wrapped around the collar of her button down and pulled her in gently.
“abigail,” you whispered, “I want this,” with that, her hands were everywhere, all at once. she was pulling you up, wrapping her large hands around your hips as she pulled you in for a harsh kiss. she was forcing you onto her desk, keeping her lips to yours as your bodies molded to each other.
she left your lips, finding a perfect spot on your neck and sucking. you gasped when you felt her hand undoing the buttons of your shirt and pulling it out of your skirt. you were grabbing her by her waist trying to pull her closer as she continued to mark up your neck and grab your tits.
when she finally pulled away from your neck, her eyes became wide looking at your lingerie clad tits. you slid your shirt the rest of the way off and tossed it, looking up at her as you began to unbutton hers. she didn't let you get very far before she was gently pushing you back until your back was against the cool wood of the desk.
she unclipped your bra and pulled it off, tongue immediately meeting your nipple. she bit it and you yelped, grabbing her shoulders. her large hand was messing with your other, tugging gently and kneading. "I love your tits so fucking much, baby.” she mumbled into your skin while she kissed down your stomach.
she left more hickies on your ribs, but you desperately needed her in one place. she was pulling your skirt down in seconds, pressing her tongue against you like it was nothing and watching you arch and moan. she was eating you out through your underwear for a minute, before you grabbed her hair and pulled her head up.
"take them off." she smirked, and her head tilted slightly to the side.
"who said you're in charge, sweet angel?" the nickname was new, but you fucking loved that she always called you sweet. you were something sweet to her, and that made your brain lag every time.
"abby please," you bucked into her, chasing friction. that's when you felt it; the large bulge in her slacks that you hadn't noticed earlier.
"feel that, baby? that's all for you." she pulled down your underwear slowly, tossing it in the pile of clothes. she spread your lips, watching slick connect and drip down your thighs. your face burned and you covered it, embarrassed. "uncover your face or I'll stop." you did as told.
she pulled a ponytail off her wrist and pulled her hair into a bun before pressing her tongue into your clit and licking a fat stripe. your head hit the desk with a thud, reveling at the feeling. she worked your clit, sucking it into her mouth and painting patterns with her tongue while she pressed a finger into entrance.
she used her free hand to hold you down by your stomach, since your squirming was messing her up. you whined when she added a second finger, not used to her thick fingers. "if you can't take my fingers, how am I supposed to fuck you with my strap?" you moaned at her words, loving the dirtiness of it.
she returned to your clit and you got loud when she curled her fingers up into the best spot, whimpering and groaning. she remembered the time when you pressed your fingers to your cheek in her house, and brought her unused hand to your mouth, tapping your chin lightly. "open your mouth and suck," she instructed, noticing your confused look.
you took two of her fingers in your mouth and sucked them, which shut you up. your stomach coiled, a warm feeling rushing between your legs before you could even mumble a word. it felt like you just kept coming, until she finally pulled away from your cunt.
"are you gonna give me another one, angel?" she was unclipped her belt while you caught your breath. "wanna fuck you all day." she pulled her pants and boxers down just barely enough to get her strap out. "flip over, ass up." you turned over, fucked out muscles aching.
she ran the tip of her strap between your folds, letting your wetness lube it up, then lined up with your hole. she pushed just the tip in, groaning at the way you took it so well and swallowed her in. "what if I just fucked you like this, huh?" you whined.
"please.. need more," you pushed your hips back slightly, trying to push her in further. she pulled out, simply pushing the tip back in.
"desperate fucking whore," she thrust in on the last word, bottoming out immediately. you whimpered, the strap stretching you far more than her fingers. "aw, baby, does that hurt?" she pulled out far and fucked into you again.
she started fucking you, deep and hard, until you were moaning and grabbing onto the desk, trying to stabilize yourself. one of her hands left your hips and grabbed your hair, wrapping it around her fist and tugging. "fuck.. abby- abs.. mommy,”
your eyes widened at the name, which came out unintentionally. she stopped momentarily before groaning and picking her pace back up rapidly. "call me that again." the tip of her strap kissed your cervix and bumped against your g-spot every time. her arm wrapped around your waist, flicking your clit.
"mommy.. m'gonna cum." you slurred, cock drunk and fucked out. she kept her pace, hardly changing anything except for the fact that she was louder now, finding the perfect angle to get the harness to hit her clit.
"just wait a second, my love,” you held it for as long as you could, but it became too much, and she was hitting just right. your mind went absolutely blank as your vision went white, a wave crashing over you as you came.
you could hear abby moaning, but you were still going, and unable to think of anything. “fuck baby, you make such a mess.” you relaxed your tense body and look over your shoulder at abby's soaked harness, pants, and desk.
“m’sorry.” she slowly pulled her strap out and unclipped it front her hips, letting you lay for another minute before she grabbed your hips and helped you flip over and sit up. “wanna make you cum, mommy.” you looked at her with doe eyes, watching her eyes darken.
“I already came, sweetheart. don't worry about me.” you brought your hand down to cup her cunt and she took in a sharp breath. you ground your palm against her clit and she groaned, shifting her stance from foot to foot.
you slid off the desk with wobbly legs and kneeled in front of her, pupils blown. “please mommy,” you ran your nails over her abs and under her boxer strap lightly, making her muscles tense.
“such a slut, aren't you? want mommy to fuck your face?” you nodded, pulling her boxers down to her ankles. her blonde bush matched her hair, and you noticed her happy trail that you hadn't earlier. “stick out your tongue, baby, be a good girl.”
you stuck your tongue out flat, not even getting a chance to lick before she was pressing her cunt to your mouth. she fucked herself on your face, gripping your hair tight and grinding fast. you gently pushed her against the desk, lifting one of her legs to your shoulder and leaving the other one down.
she must have loved the new angle, because she was moaning and grunting more than you had ever heard her. her clit was twitching and puffy, wet from your spit and her slick. she let out an involuntary whimper, and it was like music to your ears. “gonna c-cum on your f-fucking face, angel.”
her legs shook as she came, ans you spent the following moments licking all of it up. you pulled away and stood up, still shaky. she pulled her boxers and slacks up, moving towards the pile of clothes and handing you what was yours. “do you wanna get dinner tonight?” she stopped what she was doing to button up your shirt and zip your skirt.
“yeah, that's great.” she smiled, kissing you softly.
“you can go home if you want to clean up. I can take my own calls for a few minutes.” it was your turn to smile, grateful to get out of your uncomfortable, wet clothes.
“I'll see you tonight?” you asked, looking over your shoulder once you got to the door.
“pick you up at seven.”
a/n: part two? 🤭
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tag list: @shewantstoknow @baumbii @zombholic
5K notes · View notes
luveline · 9 months ago
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Hotch request! Please sir, can I have a Hotch request? I'm trying to follow what you said about comfort but also Hotch being angry. So I get low blood sugars cause of my diabetes and I'd love if you wrote something about them being on a case and BAU!Reader is really busy trying to get stuff done, so she has a bad low blood sugar and sits down but one of the local officers thinks she's slacking off so she tries to keep going and Hotch comes in and defends her, making sure she has everything she needs and doesn't faint. Love you <3
ty for requesting!! hope this is okay <3 fem, 1.3k
“I understand.” You frown, phone pressed to your ear hard. “I totally understand, but it’s really important that I get to talk to her.” 
“She’s on heavy medication,” the nurse replies, unimpressed by your asking, “she wouldn’t be much use anyhow.” 
“I understand, but–”
“Listen, I’m sorry, but we have a lot to do here. I’m sorry we can’t help. Bye.” 
You groan in frustration, bringing your phone from your ear to see the Call Disconnected notification flash across your screen. How are you and the team ever supposed to get answers if nobody wants to help? Your head rushes. You kid yourself into believing it’s annoyance like a hot flash, you’ve been sweaty for ages, but then reality cuts through. What usually makes you sweaty and dizzy?
“Where’s my test kit?” you murmur to yourself. 
The door opens while you’re looking through your bag. 
“Agent,” Officer Debs greets, a stout, sturdy woman with sharp eyes, “any news from Georgetown Psychiatric?” 
You rummage frustratedly through your things. You should know better than to misplace your test kit. Doesn’t matter. You’ll just have to eat something quickly before you get any worse. “Uh, no, nothing they could help me with.” 
“Did you call them?” 
Your eyelids are getting heavier. You sit down on impulse, worried you’re gonna fall if you stay standing. “Yeah, I called them.” You’ve had diabetes for long enough to know what to do, but it’s always harder than it felt the last time when your blood sugar drops. It can be so sudden. 
Realising you might need help, you clear your throat, about to ask Officer Debs if she can get the glucose tablets from your bag. You should’ve grabbed them —your thoughts are starting to thicken like someone’s poured cornflour into your skull. 
“Is now the best time for a break?” Officer Debs asks. 
You focus very hard on bringing your attention into the present. “No, sorry,” you say, standing up. You open your phone and direct to the contacts page, clicking your favourite contact at the very top. 
Don’t know m where test kit is, you text clumsily. Hotch should still be in the precinct. Do u have it ? 
“I hope you’re texting someone about the case,” Officer Debs says sternly. 
You shove your phone into your pocket. “Um,” you say, getting confused now, and not wanting to be shouted at. You grab for the page of phone numbers you’d been making your way through, can’t get your hands to work. “I wasn’t. But I’m getting to it.” 
“We really don’t have time to waste.” 
“I know, but my blood sugar–”
She talks over you. “What’s the point in all our officers working day and night when you FBI agents can’t be bothered to put in the same effort?” Her voice rises. “It’s ridiculous!”
“It’s not ridiculous, we’re trying our best just like you are.”
“Clearly not!” 
“My blood sugar,” you say, more insistently. “Stop shouting at me.” 
The door opens quickly, creaking hard on its hinge. Hotch doesn’t slam it open, he never slams anything, but he doesn’t hesitate either. “I have it, you left it in the car after you tested this morning,” he says, your kit in his hand. He gives Officer Debs a surprised up and down. “Who’s shouting?” he asks, unimpressed. 
You wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. “Hotch, I need a tablet.” 
If he’s shocked at your lethargy, he doesn’t say. He ignores the officer from that point on. “Yes, I think so, too.” 
Hotch is more efficient than you were, grabbing your tube of glucose tablets and shaking one out into his hand. “Can you take it yourself?” 
“You want to chew it for me?” you ask. 
He tips it into your palm. “Very funny.” 
He opens the test kit on the desk and starts to extract the pieces. It’s quite complicated, especially for people unfamiliar with it, but you’re pretty sure Hotch learned how to use it the day he knew you had diabetes. He wipes his hands with an alcohol wipe and presses a test strip into the meter, careful not to touch the end, before wiping your finger with a new wipe, and readying the lancing stick. 
“Gonna stick you, okay?” he asks quietly.
“Mm,” you hum, the glucose tablet like chalk between your teeth. 
He sticks you. Some days it feels more painful than other days, but today it’s like a pinprick in a haze. He squeezes your finger, wipes the first drop of blood with a cotton ball, and dips the test strip into the second bead of blood, careful not to jab your cut. 
In the five seconds it takes for you to get a result on the meter, he kneels down, pressing another cotton ball to your finger to stem the flow of blood. “Good,” he murmurs to you. The meter flashes on the table. “Not so good. Fifty nine, huh? How’d that happen?” 
You shake your head slowly from one side to another. “I’ve no idea.” 
“Okay. Well, that tablet’s not gonna do it, honey. Do you have any gels?” 
“No,” you say apologetically. 
“That’s fine. I’ll get you a drink.” 
Officer Debs clears her throat. You may be foggy, but her awkwardness is palpable. “I’ll get it.”
“It has to be full sugar. Coke, if you can,” Hotch says. She nods in understanding and leaves in record time. Hotch turns back to you, his severity melting away. “She was shouting at you?”
“Tried to tell her about my blood sugar. She told me we’re not here to waste time.” You close your mouth, licking the glucose off of your teeth.
“How did you get so low?” he asks.
“Must have done something wrong this morning. Am I okay?” 
“We’ll see. I think you’ll be alright.” 
“Don’t usually get so dizzy.” 
“When was the last time you were below seventy?” 
“Don’t know,” you mumble. 
Hotch peels the cotton ball from your finger and packs your things away cleanly. “Let’s see how you feel in ten minutes. After your coke. Now… what did the Officer say to you?” 
He’s getting his facts straight. Again, you wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. You relay your conversation, Officer Debs hadn’t even been that bad, just uppity, stuck on her own assumptions rather than willing to listen when you’d needed a hand. Her lack of empathy could’ve really affected you. Low blood sugar is no joke. 
You tell him, savouring in the warmth of his hand on your leg, how uncaring he is to be kneeling in front of you on the precinct floor. He frowns at you long and hard. 
By the time Officer Debs returns, he’s on his feet again. “A word?” he asks her. 
You don’t hear all of what he’s saying through the door as you sip your coke. He doesn’t shout, but he defends you with a heavy gravity. Officer Debs speaks up and he cuts her down, something about understanding, and then a more clear telling off, “I don’t want to hear about Agent L/N’s performance from you again. She’s my agent, and if she needs a break, she’ll take one. It’s none of your concern.” 
“I understand.” 
You feel much peppier when he comes back in, though he appears less so. “You’re nasty,” you say, smiling, happy to be defended, and happier to know you’re not gonna pass out.
He crosses the room. Still frowning, he takes your face into his hands, and he leans down inch by inch, until he’s pressing a soft, soft kiss to your lips. You barely have time to close your eyes before he’s pulling away, thumb pressed into your soft cheek. “Nobody gets to shout at you. Especially over your blood sugar.” 
“It’s usually you telling me off for letting it get low,” you mumble. 
He stands up straight, leaving you wanting for another kiss you won’t get, hands stolen back from your cheeks. “You’re ageing me prematurely. Drink some more coke, please, sweetheart.” 
“What do I get in return?” 
He touches your face briefly, as much of a promise as you’re going to get. 
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