#this has been sitting in my wips for more than a year

[teamhangaround]

Wanted to try a more cartoony style

[swordmaid]

It was more a picture than a proper coat of arms, and the sight of it took her back through the long years, to the cool dark of her father’s armory. She remembered how she’d run her fingertips across the cracked and fading paint, over the green leaves of the tree, and along the path of the falling star. - AFFC Brienne II.

[meercacchi]

Summary:

Kise doesn’t know when it all begins. He doesn’t know when the blinding camera flashes start to give him earthworms instead of butterflies, crawling around in his stomach. He doesn’t know when his manager berating him about his diet becomes the focus of every phone call, even when he’s trying and has nearly passed out twice in the past week. He doesn’t know when the glitz and glamour peel away like the gold sticker with his name affixed to the dressing room door, fake and gaudy and easily replaced.

-

Diamonds don't always form under pressure. Kise snaps, but Kasamatsu and the Miracles help put him back together - and with Kasamatsu, build something new.

[aperrywilliams]

That Green Monster (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: Your relationship with Spencer is fresh new, and some of his insecurities arise when someone new joins the team, making him react in a wrong way to you.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Fluff and Angst. And then fluff at the end (I don't even understand myself). Spencer lashes out. Spencer is insecure. Reader is mad. Both are so madly in love, though.

A/N: This one has been sitting as a WIP for way too long, so I decided to finish it today!

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A shot in the neck.

That's what it took for you and Spencer to - finally - get together. To confess you loved each other.

Everything happened while working a case in Texas. You had cornered a suspect who was hiding in a restaurant. You wanted to open a communication line with him, but out of nowhere, shots got fired. And one of them ended in your neck.

What happened next was a blur to everyone, especially to Spencer. He barely remembers Morgan pulling him back so that the paramedics could check on you.

The ambulance ride to the hospital and the hours of waiting for news were excruciating.

In Spencer's brain, only the thought that he might lose you forever without coming clean about his feelings for you.

You have been in a similar situation before, but this time, he thought you wouldn't make it.

It would be the loss of a friend and the loss of the love of his life.

If Spencer has to be honest, he realized he loved you after your first month working at the BAU. And with every passing day, the feeling only got stronger. But he was scared of saying anything, afraid of changing - or losing - the strong bond you guys already had.

So, he kept it to himself for years. For six years, to be exact.

But what he didn't know was you had fallen for him, too.

And how could you not? You both went through so many things over the years: Spencer's kidnapping, his Dilaudid problem, your family issues, the injuries, bad cases, unsubs attacks, hospital visits, and so on. With every bump in the way, you both were each other rock. Always together, no matter what.

The team affectionately called you Mulder and Scully, but in reverse roles, of course.

But even if, at some point, both of you realized what you had was much more than a friendship, neither of you did something about it.

Until you got shot in the neck.

In that uncomfortable waiting room chair, Spencer prayed, to whatever or whoever could listen, for a chance to make things right.

So when you woke up in your hospital bed hours later, the first thing you saw was Spencer's face.

He was by your side as always. But this time, he had something to tell you. Spencer didn't have the chance, though, because before he could say anything, three words blurted out from your lips: 'I love you.'

Between happy tears, you both spent hours talking and coming to the conclusion you were both idiots in love.

You didn't say anything to the team, but you all knew they knew, so it became unspoken knowledge after you were released from the hospital.

-------

With you home due to your neck injury and JJ on maternity leave, Hotch decided that some help would be better than putting more pressure on the remaining team members.

That's why he borrowed an agent from Sex Crimes.

Spencer had already told you that there was a new agent, but he hadn't developed this information in detail.

You knew him on your first day back, a month after you got shot.

Once you exited the elevator on the sixth, you headed through the bullpen glass doors. When you pushed them open, you didn't realize that someone was going in the opposite direction, and you almost hit the guy in the face with one of the doors.

"Oh, my God. I'm sorry!" you exclaimed when you realized what almost happened.

The man shook his head in dismissal. "No, no. Don't be. Nothing happened."

"But I almost hit you with a glass door," you pointed. The guy didn't seem phased by it, though.

"I'm okay, really," he insisted, flashing you a smile. You hadn't picked much of his appearance, to be honest, but the guy was easy on the eyes. Another thing that caught your attention was you had never seen him before.

"Do I know you?" You asked with curiosity.

"I don't think so. I'm Agent Dodds. Jake Dodds," he introduced himself, extending his hand. You've heard that last name before. You told him yours, shaking his hand.

"Really? You are a BAU member, right? I'm the backup agent Hotchner brought to the team," he explained, and then it clicked. He was the new guy.

Jake Dodds was young, fresh and motivated. After his first year in Sex Crimes, he already has a lot of accomplishments to show off. And, of course, he was doing his best to impress Hotch and the team.

Coming to the office bright and early and being the last to leave gave Dodds a chance to engage with the cases and the team members - you included. Due to your neck injury, you were mostly on desk duty, so you had enough time to help Jake with paperwork and all the questions he might have about past cases. And Dodds had many.

In the weeks that followed, he has spent a lot of time by your side, working with you when the team wasn't out of town.

It was part of your nature to be forthcoming and willing to teach others. And having worked at the BAU for almost six years, you felt like you could teach one thing or two.

Spencer loves that from you; it's one of the many things that made him fall in love with you. But for some reason, Jake's closeness to you started to bother him.

Spencer knew it was irrational and without foundation. Still, in the past weeks since Dodds joined, with each laugh from you when Jake cracked a joke, every time you sat together at the office a little too close, or every day you decided to have lunch with Jake rather than him, Spencer's jealousy only got stronger. It didn't help the team's comments about you and Jake.

'Dodds looks hooked by her'; 'The newbie definitely is flirting with her'; 'Really handsome view she has over there.'

Spencer could only bite his tongue. He could easily assume that the team was only messing with the situation, but the green monster growing inside didn't let him think clearly.

Spencer knew you, and you would never do something to hurt him, so why did he feel that uneasiness inside of him?

Maybe the fact you were in the early stages of your relationship made Spencer insecure. It was all new and fresh; he was happy with you, but although you both have known each other for years, he was inexperienced in the love department. Being friends was one thing, but being a couple was different.

So instead of talking to you—which he knew was the right thing to do—Spencer did what he usually does when he feels overwhelmed: he shuts people out.

And you did notice, of course.

Something was troubling him, you knew that, but every time you brought up the topic, he dodged it. You didn't look much into it at first because you knew Spencer would talk to you eventually when he felt ready. Or you assumed he would.

But the days went by, and Spencer still hadn't told you why he had been so distant, so you decided to confront him.

You both were watching a movie at your place, but you noticed Spencer wasn't paying attention to the TV. After an internal debate about whether it was a good idea to bring this up, you tested the waters.

"Spencer, are you okay?" you asked him, genuine concern lacing your voice.

The question hung in the air enough to make you think he might not hear you.

"Spencer?" you tried again, swearing you heard him huff even if he tried to be subtle.

"I'm okay, just tired," he hastened to dismiss, not looking at you.

So he heard you, but you had to call his name again to get an answer. Something is definitely wrong.

Contemplating your options, you chose to end the 'patiently wait until he comes to you' strategy. You were his girlfriend now. Why he couldn't trust you enough to tell you what's going on?

"Okay. This bullshit needs to stop now. You have been weird for too many days to tell me now you are okay and just tired. I know something happened and need you to tell me what it is," you demanded.

Shifting uncomfortably in his spot, Spencer had an inner debate about coming clean to you. He didn't want to admit how much Jake's closeness to you was bothering him. Spencer didn't want you to think about him as the possessive and clingy boyfriend who can't see his girlfriend near other guys.

He wasn't like that, right?

"You are imagining things. I'm perfectly fine," Spencer deadpanned, eyes returning to the TV.

Your mouth went slack. Were you imagining things? Was he thinking you were stupid?

"So I'm imagining things, uh? It's not you being defensive right now, isn't it?"

"No." He gave you a curt answer that meant precisely the opposite of what he was implying.

You wanted to give him a chance to open with you, but Spencer wasn't engaging.

It seemed easier to talk about what was happening to each other when you were only friends. Why is it so hard now you are a couple? You couldn't understand, and your patience was running short.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" you called him out in frustration. "Who do you think I am? A random person who hasn't known you for fucking six years?"

Spencer internally flinched. He saw the confusion and anger mixed in your eyes, and he felt the urge to hug you tight, telling you he was being an irrational jealous asshole. But Spencer didn't bring himself to do it, and instead, he tried to play cool and detached.

"I already told you. Everything is wonderful, at least for me. Not for you?" Spencer asked casually.

You narrowed your eyes at him. He looked calm and collected, but you could feel he was anything but.

"Okay. I'll bite the bullet. So the distance between us in the past weeks doesn't bother you as it bothers me," you concluded.

Spencer let out a bitter chuckle.

"Funny you're bothered by that. You have seemed very busy in the past weeks," Spencer mumbled.

A slip that didn't go unnoticed by you.

"Very busy?" you echoed his words. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Spencer shrugged, unamused.

"Exactly what it is. You have been very busy at the BAU lately. I only have been giving you space."

You squinted your eyes, raking your brain to understand Spencer's meaning. For your mandatory desk duty, you have spent more time in the office than in the field, but besides that, what has been different?

And then it clicked on you. Jake Dodds.

Sure, you've been very willing to teach him things and help him with his work, but that only explains Spencer's annoyance if there is another reason.

"Is this about Dodds? Are you jealous of Jake?" you questioned in disbelief.

Spencer's face paled. You had caught him.

After your deduction, he should have told the truth, but Spencer is stubborn enough not to give in, especially if that meant recognizing something he felt embarrassed of.

"W- what?! No! Where did you get that? I'm not jealous or remotely close to that," Spencer rebutted defensively.

Oh, he was definitively jealous. At the realization, you let out a giggle, eyes softening at your boyfriend. For you, there is no guy he should be worried about- not for Jake or any other person. Your heart is his, and you know there is nobody in this world you want to be with more than Spencer.

But Spencer's face deflated. You were laughing at him, and he felt even worse.

"Spencer, there is no reason for you to be -"

You couldn't even finish your sentence when Spencer cut you off, standing from the couch.

"I already told you! Am I not speaking English to you?"

His face was red, but not by embarrassment anymore. Now, it was a kind of contained rage.

Stunned by his reaction, it took you a few seconds to say anything.

"I - I'm just trying to understand what's going on. Don't be rude," you chimed.

Spencer let out a humorless chuckle.

"Rude, did you say? Am I rude because I disagree with you? Is that? Or am I rude because this doesn't have to do with you?"

"Excuse me? When did this turn into a problem related to me?"

You stood to mirror his stature so as not to look vulnerable.

"I don't know, you tell me. Are you disappointed because not everything or anyone in this world is revolving around you?"

Spencer's voice was cold and sarcastic, something you had seen in him before but never directed toward you. He was outrightly saying you were self-centered.

"Spencer -" you tried to warn him to back off, but Spencer didn't stop.

"No. I get it. You like the attention. But, I'm sorry, I'm not in the mood to indulge your childish self. Maybe the young and funny Agent Dodds could help you with that. But not me."

A dead silence settled in the room. If a needle had fallen on the floor, it would have made a noticeable noise.

You couldn't believe that man was your boyfriend—the man who was telling you such hurtful words.

Spencer saw how your features morphed from confused to hurt and then to offense, and with a twist in his guts, he knew he had fucked up.

"Are you done?"

Your tone was flat and collected, even if, on the inside, there was a storm of feelings. Spencer was deflated and looking for the right words to apologize.

"Hey, look, I'm -"

"I asked if you were done." You questioned harshly this time, and Spencer only gave you a shy nod.

"Okay, now get out!"

Your command was only followed by your actions as you walked to your entrance to open the door.

With horror, Spencer tried to sputter words to change your mind.

"I'm sorry. I - I didn't - Please, don't do this."

"I said, get out! I don't want you here!"

You emphasized your words, gesturing to the open door.

"Baby, I wasn't - I didn't mean what-" Spencer tried again, but you had made up your mind and didn't want to hear him.

"I don't fucking care! You had your time to explain yourself, and I don't want to hear anything else from you."

Spencer knew that nothing he could say at that moment would help his cause, so like a dog with the tail between his legs, he slowly made the walk of shame towards your door, but not before looking at you and begging for forgiveness with his eyes. It was a useless thing because you didn't even look at him back. Once he was out of your sight, you slammed the door shut, and your facade crumbled.

Tears started to fall freely, in a combination of pain and frustration.

It's needless to say, you couldn't sleep that night.

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Spencer looked distracted and visibly sad.

Morgan knew something had happened to him, even if the man had denied the fact for the past two days. And Morgan was sure it was something related to you. It looked like Spencer would combust from guilt whenever his eyes landed on you. Morgan's suspicion turned to be right the moment you caught Spencer's gaze, and you purposely averted it.

"Okay, pretty boy, what did you do?" Morgan questioned Spencer when he caught him pouring coffee in the kitchenette.

"What? Me? Nothing!" Spencer defended himself, but the crack in his voice did nothing to help his cause.

"So she's not talking to you just because?"

Spencer shrugged, leaving the pot over the counter.

Was he being so obvious? If Spencer wanted to maintain the facade that 'nothing is wrong here,' he was failing miserably.

Morgan scoffed, grabbing a mug to pour some coffee for himself.

"Come on, Reid. There must be something. Since yesterday morning, you look like a kicked puppy, and she seems visibly upset, and you're both always attached to the hip."

Dangerous territory, Spencer thought. But at this point, his regret was more powerful than keeping your relationship private.

"She is mad at me," the man recognized. It was a 'vague' recognition, but it was something.

Morgan seemed not surprised, though.

"No shit, Sherlock. The question is why, pretty boy," Derek prodded.

Spencer sighed deeply. How could he express what really happened without telling the whole truth?

Morgan saw the struggle in Spencer's eyes.

"I know you are both hurting by whatever happened. Maybe talking would help you clear your head and think about how to fix it."

Spencer took in Morgan's words. Some advice could help, he decided.

"We fought. I mean, we argued two nights ago, and she kicked me out. And now she is not talking to me, and I don't- I want to apologize, but I don't know how."

Spencer winced, just remembering your fight.

Derek looked at him incredulously.

"She kicked you out? What in the world did you do so she reacted like that?"

The actual question was 'what he said' because, strictly speaking, he didn't do anything besides let his mouth run on its own accord.

He regretted every word he said to you the second they left his mouth, but the damage was done, and you were fed up enough to listen to his apologies, so you yelled at him to let you alone. He didn't blame you. But he was feeling miserable, and it showed.

Spencer told Morgan exactly what happened—word by word.

"Jesus, Reid. I didn't peg you like the jealous type," Morgan acknowledged. Spencer shook his head.

"It's not like that. I mean, I know she loves me..."

"But?"

Spencer sighed. "What if - what if she realizes there are better men than me? That I am not enough for a romantic relationship?"

Morgan's eyebrows knit together. Spencer's face was pure panic, only thinking about the possibility.

"And Dodds would be better than you? You know he's like a kid, right?" Morgan pointed.

"Yeah. A young man with a lot of confidence that makes her smile and has her undivided attention. He's smart and qualified for this job like any of us. I'm not better than him. And I can perfectly be disposable in comparison."

That was the thing. Spencer felt insecure about you finding someone better than him.

Morgan looked at him empathetically.

"Man, I think you are looking too much into it. I don't think you should feel threatened in your relationship with her. And I guess she thinks the same and feels hurt for you thinking that."

Spencer nodded. "That's why I know I fucked up. I hurt her for my insecurities. It's all my fault," he lamented.

"You need to talk to her," Morgan advised, and Spencer whined.

"How? She hasn't spared me a glance in two days!"

"You're a genius, Spencer. And above all, how long have you known her? Five years? Think of something."

"Five years, eleven months, three weeks, and four days," Spencer corrected without hesitation.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about. You'll figure it out."

Spencer sighed deeply as Morgan patted his shoulder before leaving the kitchenette. Derek was right; they should talk. Spencer just had to figure out how to make that happen.

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That night you were sulking at your apartment, laying on the couch and watching some crap on the TV, when three knocks alerted you.

You weren't expecting anyone, and you didn't think Spencer could be outside your door. You were clear in telling him you didn't want to talk to him when he cornered you in the breaking room this afternoon.

But if you knew something about Spencer Reid, it was that he could be stubborn as fuck. So when you looked by the peephole and saw him standing there, you only closed your eyes and sighed.

Spencer knocked again. "I know you are there. And I know you don't want to talk to me. But please, let me do the talk. Please, at least listen to the things I need to say."

"You already said enough," you spat from your spot on the other side of the door. Spencer gulped hard. He said enough hurtful things to you to kick his ass, but he was determined to gain your forgiveness somehow.

"I can't stress enough how sorry I am for that. But I need you to know that I didn't mean any of it." Spencer paused, and when he didn't hear you say anything, he continued. "I'm an asshole, and I would understand if you want to break up and never see me again. I mean, well - it - it would be kind of difficult not to see each other because we work together, but you know what I mean. Or maybe not, I don't know. Jesus, what the fuck am I saying?" Spencer chastised himself, trying to control his nerves.

You could hear him struggling, so you decided to spare him a panic attack in the middle of the hallway. You opened your door and saw him still trying to sputter what he wanted to say.

"If this is your way to apologize, you are doing a terrible job." Your voice was not angry but tired. Because if he had had two tortuous days of you not talking to him, you haven't done it any better, overthinking about your fight over and over again.

Spencer's glassy, pleading eyes found yours.

"I know. It seems it's another thing I suck at," he admitted fidgeting with his hands. "Would you, uh. Would you let me try again? Apologize. That is."

It's true you were still mad with him, but you really wanted to understand why he reacted the way he did that night and said all the things he said. You know him too well to ignore that something else beyond mere jealousy clearly triggered his outburst.

Without saying a word, you gestured for him to get into the apartment. Spencer was quick to comply before you changed your mind.

You both took seats on opposite sides of the couch, eyes overly interested in your living room rug. After some minutes of silence and knowing he needed to say something, Spencer cleared his throat.

"I guess I'm going to start with the beginning," he prefaced, keeping his hands in his lap as you turned to contemplate him in silence. "Uh - you know it took me time to come clean with my feelings for you. A lot of time, almost six years," he chuckled nervously. You nodded, not wanting to interrupt him, fearing to get him more anxious.

"The thing is- I have been in love with you for so long and creating scenarios of us in my mind that - that now I know it is real, I don't - It's still difficult to grasp the idea we are together, you know?"

As Spencer raked his hair, collecting his thoughts, you couldn't help but remember all the things you both went through until you decided to tell the truth to each other. Six years is a long time. But you wanted to believe it has been worth it.

"I'm not used to a life where I get to be happy; when I think I am, things crush down, and I lose everything. It's a rule: good things don't last in my life."

You know how difficult it has been for Spencer to accept that he is not cursed or anything like that—a very difficult task, knowing the things he has been through.

"So my mind began to be haunted by the idea that it was a matter of time before you realized you could do better than me, and I'm only worth it as a friend."

His words made you recall the times you both discussed your love life in the past and all the doubts weighing on Spencer's shoulders. After those conversations, you always swore to make him feel loved and appreciated.

"And then you came back to work, and Dodds was there. I created this whole scenario, telling myself that you would be better with someone like him."

Spencer paused to gauge your reaction. You were openly listening to him, taking in every word.

"I know it's unfair to you. I - I betrayed your trust by mulling those ideas and saying all those hurtful things I truly don't believe. I'm so sorry; I don't have a defense other than my incompetence in dealing with my insecurities," Spencer concluded, letting a deep sigh escape from his lips and averting your gaze. He looked embarrassed and vulnerable, and it hurts you to acknowledge how small he feels about himself. You reached your hand tentatively, touching his forearm, and Spencer's eyes drifted back to you.

"Spencer, you have to know there is no one in this world who I love so deeply as I love you. No man could compare to you. No matter how young or confident or whatever difference you can name. You are the most thorough, caring, and selfless person I know, and I love you so fucking much it hurts," you gave his arm a gentle squeeze to emphasize your point. Spencer's cheeks flushed a bit. He still needs to get used to your compliments.

"What I still don't get is why you didn't tell me. Don't you trust me enough to talk to me about how you feel?"

Spencer hastened to reply, taking your hand in his. "No! It's not that! I do trust you with my life!"

"Then why didn't you tell me the truth at the beginning?"

"I - I don't know. I thought you would see me as the shitty boyfriend who can't see his partner near another man. It's as if I wanted to control you. And that's far from what I want," Spencer explained, scooting by your side as his grip on your hand tightened. "It was my problem, not yours. You did nothing to make this happen. I'm the one who must have to fix it." You shook your head.

"Baby, no. If it is something that upsets you, it is my problem, too. Spencer, we need to talk about those things and resolve them together."

Spencer's head hung low, taking in your words.

"But why? I am the insecure one, and you have done nothing more than show me how unfounded my fear is."

"Well, because you're still my best friend, and I care about you." Spencer's gaze met yours again. "It's the thing I first loved about us, you know? I love feeling safe with you and having the trust to talk about what is happening to us." With loving eyes, you brought his hand to your lips to kiss it.

"I want you to keep being my best friend, too," Spencer said with a hopeful smile. It was all you needed to hear.

"Then please don't forget that. You can always talk to me, and I promise to do the same, okay?" Spencer nodded at your words, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Okay. I promise," Spencer replied before wrapping you in a tight embrace. You melted in his arms, feeling his warmth and inhaling his scent, something you have been missing in the past two days.

"I love you," you mumbled into his chest. "So so much."

"I love you too. And I'm so sorry for my behavior two days ago," Spencer muttered in your hair.

You chuckled, slightly parting to look at him.

"Yeah, we have to work on taming that green monster, doctor. Otherwise, Hotch won't be able to bring anyone new to the team," you pointed, leaning to kiss his lips. Spencer smiled into the kiss.

"That means you forgive me?" he asked hopefully. You narrowed your eyes.

"Yes. But you still have to make it up to me," you teased, faking seriousness.

Spencer nodded eagerly nonetheless. "Whatever it takes."

"You could start making something to eat. I'm starving here after two days with a hole in my stomach," you rubbed your belly for emphasis.

"Yes, ma'am," Spencer smiled, standing and strolling quickly to the kitchen. He felt so relieved after coming clean with you that he swore not to make the same mistake again. That green monster fed by his insecurities dissipating as he thought how lucky he was to love and have you in his life.

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

[lostalioth]

𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐲

→ premise: miguel considered himself a very put together and composed man until your hands were on him, he lost himself.

→ pairing: sub!miguel o’hara x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, handjob, overstimualtion, begging, miguel switches between spanish and english a lot

→ a/n: kinktober 10

Miguel was laid back with his legs widened to accommodate you sitting in front of him on your knees on the bed. He had been so over worked all day, you wanted to give him a little stress relief.

That was about three orgasms ago and he was a blabbering, needy, overstimulated mess now.

“Bebe, mhmm-mireda slow down please please” Miguel rambles out breathlessly, his brain on overdrive as his words switch between English and Spanish and his hips buck up into your hand. Your grip on his cock tightens as you speed up your movements, rubbing your thumb through his leaking tip when you go up. Your saliva and spit coating and dripping down his shaft from having him in your mouth earlier makes your hand glide along easier.

“Ay coño, amor ahh~ Por favor bebe i can't take it, no more” he cries out his fingers digging into your thighs as his hips thrust up and squirm. “You can give me one more baby come on Miggy” you slow down your movements just for him to catch his breath. “Just one more orgasm my love” you explain smiling sweetly at him, though he swears he heard those exact words before his last one. Miguel’s head was far too fuzzy and his cock throbbing too much from both his impending orgasm as well as the overstimulation to know if he was remembering correctly.

“Mi vida, Bebe mmm~ no puedo, s’to much, feels s’good but too much” he whines, all his words slurring together, his balls tighten like he’s gonna cum and yet he feels as though you’ve already drained it all out of him three orgasms ago. His eyes screw shut as his head falls back agaisnt the plush pillows behind him, hips still fucking up still into your hand as if they had a mind of their own. His cock aching and extra sensitive and yet still stiff as a rock, he’s barely gone soft this whole time as your hand hasn't left him for a minute. Your hands on his body, rubbing along his tip and shaft felt heavenly and painful at the same time and yet he makes no move to stop you. “I promise Miggy, one more baby, you're my big strong man you can do it” the latter half of your sentence was intended to be taken as you mocking him. He knew this, the position he was in, whining, panting, letting out strings of Spanish curse words that blend together with his English ones. He was a pathetic mess right now, not the typical strong well composed man he always was. He could care less however, this is what your touch does to him and it feels far too good to fight back against your teasing words.

”Gonna cum Bebe, please let me cum amor, necesito, fuck- hurts s’good” he moans out, his hips flattering in their synced rymth with your hand, now thrusting desperatly for your hand to milk the last drops of cum even left in his twitching overstimualted body. “Cum baby, cum for me” you command softly, watching as his face contorted in pain and pleasure mixed together as his high crashed over him hard. Long ropes of cum shoot out, spilling over your hand and even land on his chest and thighs. He lets out some morph of a whiny sigh of relief when finally after what has felt like hours, your hand moves off his hyper sensitive cock as it twitches and softens against his cum stained stomach.

→ a/n: sorry this is hella short, i have also never written much for miguel other than a wip i never posted nor even finished from a year ago soo also sorry for errors in the spanish, the little I know is rusty so

[pathologicalreid]

stuck between a rock and a hard place | S.R.

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You, an undercover agent, uncover a hidden secret of the country's largest operation, putting your life in danger and under the protection of the BAU.

who? spencer reid x fem!FBI!reader category: angst content warnings: general cm violence, hospitals, medical inaccuracy, drugs, sex crimes/trafficking, attempted sa, reader works in sex crimes. mentions foyet and also 6x24 (supply and demand). established relationship. word count: 7.7k a/n: this has been sitting in my wip folder for far too long. i am now emotionally attached to these two. i will write more of this specific pairing because now all i want is for them to be happy.

Spencer

It wasn’t every day that men and women in suits piled into the BAU carrying evidence boxes, everyone stood up at their desks. Spencer watched as Andi Swann followed in behind the other agents, not even bothering to greet the team as she went straight to Emily’s office.

Prentiss opened the door, letting Andi in before beckoning for Reid to join them. This had to be about you.

Ignoring the way his heart rate spiked, Spencer stood up from his desk and went up to Emily’s office. On the other side of the bullpen, the rest of the team filed into the roundtable room.

“Spencer, have a seat,” Emily offered, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of her desk.

Glancing at Agent Swann, he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “No, I’ll stand.”

Andi cleared her throat, looking at Spencer, she spoke, “Y/N missed her last two check-ins. As her next of kin, I need to notify you to let you know that as of now, the FBI is considering her missing.”

He wanted to be angry. He wanted so badly to be mad, but he’d seen this before. Years ago, an agent in Andi’s unit missed her check-ins and the BAU helped find her. More than that, he knew how much Andi cared about her agents, so he couldn’t find it in himself to be mad.

“Section Chief Cruz has asked that the BAU help to recover Y/N,” Emily said, looking at Spencer. “You know I have to tell you that you can’t be on this case,” she explained, leaning against her desk, eyes flickering as she tried to read Spencer’s expression.

Taking a deep breath, Spencer looked at Emily, “Y/N’s gone missing, and I’m not allowed to help look for her?”

Sympathetically, Prentiss shook her head, dark hair swaying with the movement. “You know it’s a conflict of interest to be involved with a loved one’s case.”

“Isn’t that kind of what the BAU does?” He could’ve rambled off a list of BAU agents who worked on cases involving their loved ones – including himself and Emily.

Turning to face Agent Swann, Emily suggested she join the rest of the team in the roundtable room. She waited until the door was closed before speaking again, “When’s the last time you saw Y/N?”

Closing his eyes, he remembered the morning of the day you left, the both of you had stayed up late as if you could delay your departure, but the last time he saw you was when he dropped you off at the Sex Crimes Unit before making his way up to the Behavioral Analysis Unit. “We haven’t even spoken since she left,” he answered, almost a month ago now.

“Is there a chance she tried to reach you or her family?” Emily asked. She had to ask, he knew that, but it didn’t make the questions any less ridiculous to him.

Shaking his head, he began to pace around the office, “No, she wouldn’t have done that. She follows the undercover playbook obsessively. She always said freestyling was like signing your death certificate.” He tried. He tried to get you to leave him breadcrumbs, but you never did.

Nodding, Emily watched as he paced back and forth “When did you get married?”

Pressing his lips into a thin white line, he stopped in his tracks, “When I came back after The Believers. It was the next day.” You had offered to sleep on the couch in an attempt to give him space when he asked you to go to the courthouse with him. That was two months ago now.

He didn’t want space. Not from you. Never from you.

Finally, he sat down.

“Did you tell anyone?” Emily asked, sitting down in the chair next to him. “Did you have a witness to sign your marriage certificate?”

Nodding, Spencer reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and produced three rings, his wedding ring, your engagement ring, and your wedding band. You didn’t have the time to get them soldered together yet. “Rossi was our witness,” he responded, “He was the only one who answered his phone.” He slipped his ring on and closed his fist around your two rings.

After a moment, Emily stood, “I’m going to speak with the rest of the team, but I won’t tell them anything I don’t think is pertinent to the case.” Which was her way of saying ‘Your secret is safe with me.’ “Stay in here as long as you need, Spence,” she offered before walking out, shutting the door tightly behind her.

He thought of the last night you were together. Spencer tried to check in with you, he told you that if your job ever became too much, you just had to tell him, and he’d be there. What he neglected to tell you was that he was beginning to feel like your job was too much for him.

You had given him the opportunity to hold you close, and instead, he let you slip through his fingers.

Opening his fist, he looked down at your rings and the indent they had left on his palm, slipping them back into his pocket before he walked over to the roundtable room. Everyone paused what they were doing to look up at him.

Spencer just shrugged and looked at Emily, “I can’t just do nothing.”

In response, Emily nodded solemnly and suggested he go through the case files with Matt.

It had been hours. The sun had set, jackets had been shed, and takeout had been ordered. The clock behind him showed it was nearly midnight, meaning it had been almost two days since anyone had last heard from you.

“Oh god,” Penelope said, her voice cutting into the thick silence of the roundtable room. Her fingers began frantically typing on her laptop.

Spinning in the office chair, Spencer wheeled over so he could look at the screen, vaguely aware of Emily hovering above him, “What is it? What did you find?”

She hit the keyboard so hard he thought they might break, but she answered, “The trauma center at Johns Hopkins reported a Jane Doe brought in a few hours ago. She matches Y/N’s description.”

“Did they run prints?” Andi asked, of course, there would be red tape if the hospital tried to run your prints, seeing as you were undercover.

Another tap and dozens of files opened, “It looks like she went right into surgery. Uh, the EMTs reported she was listing off a string of numbers when they brought her in… 265D019Z?”

Spencer swallowed thickly, “That’s Y/N’s badge number.”

Shaking her head, JJ looked over at the map of DC on the wall, “It’s a two-hour drive to Baltimore from here.”

“But it’s a thirty-minute flight, Reid, Tara, Swann, and Alvez go. The rest of us will look into what happened from here,” Emily doled out responsibilities, nodding at everyone as the team broke.

Spencer stayed still, still looking at Penelope’s screen, his eyes flickering over the documents. Words jumped out at him, drugged, punctured, and knife. It made his stomach churn. How had you gotten to Baltimore? Your unit had you set up in an apartment near the Hill. When did you travel from the district to Baltimore?

The thirty-minute flight felt like it was hours long, the drive from the airstrip to the hospital dragged on, but thankfully Emily had called the hospital ahead of time to let them know who you were and who was coming for you.

A doctor stopped the four of you from going into the room, a police officer was already stationed outside of the room, and the blinds were closed. Please, Spencer wanted to plead, please just let me see her.

“She’s weak, she just came down from recovery and she hasn’t fully woken up yet,” the doctor said, placing her hands on her hips. “I can’t in good faith let you go in there and badger her with questions. Not with no one in there to focus on her well-being,” she ordered. The doctor stared the four of them down with piercing gray eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Spencer peeked through the doorway when a nurse exited your room. “She’s my wife, I’ll advocate for her,” he responded, hoping the doctor would let him through. He could feel Tara and Luke staring, but he didn’t care.

Nodding, the doctor continued sizing Reid up, “Alright, but just you, for now. She’s not awake enough to be questioned anyway.” Stepping to the side, the doctor let Spencer through before blocking the doorway to everyone else.

In the worst way possible, you took his breath away. Your skin was sallow, you had an IV, nasal cannula, and a chest tube out the left side. Walking to your right, he took a seat next to you, taking your hand in his and pressing a gentle kiss to your bloodied knuckles – evidence that you had put up one hell of a fight. “Oh sweetheart, what did they do to you?” He whispered even though he knew you wouldn’t answer.

Reaching over you, he smoothed your hair from your face, your skin was clammy, probably as a result of blood loss. It looked like they were still transfusing, so you had probably lost a considerable amount of blood.

Shuffling the seat closer to you, Spencer took your hand in his. The doctor came back in holding a tablet, “Dr. Reid?”

He hummed in response, not daring to take his eyes off of you. “What happened to her? Why did she need surgery?”

“She had been bleeding out in an alley, according to the police officers who reported to the scene. The other agents are talking to them now,” the doctor said, tapping a few buttons on the tablet. “She had been stabbed several times in the upper left side, we went in to repair damage to her spleen, liver, and lung. There was some strain to her heart, it appears she was drugged before she was stabbed.”

He intently watched the steady rise and fall of your chest before he spoke up again, “Is she going to be okay?”

Setting the tablet down, the doctor paused before answering, “We’ll know more when she wakes up.”

Spencer leaned back in the chair, finally taking his eyes off of you and looking at the doctor, “Was there anything… did they…” He felt ridiculous, having spent the better part of his adult life in the BAU, and he couldn’t even put the words together.

To his relief, the doctor shook her head, “There were no injuries that suggested she was sexually assaulted.”

Reading the doctor’s badge, Spencer nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Herman.”

“Hit the call button when she wakes up, we’ll need to evaluate her pain and other treatment,” the doctor said, gathering her things before walking out of the room, and shutting the door behind her.

Spencer kept his eyes on you, tapping his foot on the ground impatiently, every once in a while, his phone rang, but he didn’t have the energy to talk on the phone. When his phone buzzed, he pulled it out of his pocket and checked the messages.

Penelope Garcia: How is she? Spencer Reid: Still sleeping. Penelope Garcia: How are you? Spencer Reid: Not sure.

Setting his phone on the table, screen down, he watched you again, every once in a while, your nose would twitch, or your eyes would flutter. Every time he would hold his breath, hoping you’d open your eyes.

He waited, and about an hour after he had arrived, a small, keening noise came from you. His head snapped up at the sound, your eyes were still closed, but you were moving. “Y/N?” He whispered hesitantly, not wanting to wake you up if you weren’t ready. Slowly, he stood up from the chair, not sure if he should keep waiting or if he should hit the call button.

You were muttering something, talking to someone in your sleep, when suddenly you jerked away. Instinctively, Spencer put his hands on your shoulders to stop you from tearing your stitches, and it was that touch that caused your eyes to snap open. “No, no, no, no,” you babbled, frantically looking around the hospital room.

“Y/N,” Spencer said, keeping his hands on your shoulders, “You’re safe, I’m here. You’re at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore.”

With wide eyes, you looked up at him and mouthed the word ‘Baltimore.’ As if you were trying to figure out how you had ended up in Baltimore, something the BAU still hadn’t figured out. “I thought I…” Your voice was nothing more than a rasp, but with the bruises he could now see littering your neck, that didn’t surprise him much. “Did you see it?”

Spencer pushed the call button without you noticing, “Did I see what, love?” He asked, keeping his voice low as he gently sat down on the edge of your hospital bed.

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked around the room, “Is Andi here?" Your voice was tight, like you were struggling to breathe. "I need to talk to Andi.”

Helplessly, Spencer watched as the number signifying your heart rate jumped, “Not just yet, alright?” He said, looking up when the doctor and a nurse came through the door.

The doctor introduced herself and started trying to get you to even out your breathing, one of the monitors was beeping like crazy until the nurse hit a button on it.

All he could do was watch, making sure he didn’t get in the way. Listening in to words about medications and making a mental note to research everything. “How’s your pain, Y/N? On a scale from one through ten.” The doctor asked, standing at the foot of the bed.

“Like a seven? When I breathe it’s more like a nine,” you answered, every word was strained. The doctor flashed a light in your eyes, “That isn’t helping,” you said through gritted teeth.

The doctor said something to the nurse, prompting her to nod before pushing something through your IV. After a few moments, Spencer watched as your heart rate lowered and your body visibly relaxed into the mattress. You nodded softly when the nurse asked if that was better.

Dr. Herman left and the nurse scrawled some notes down on your chart, introducing herself as Amelia before she left as well.

“Oh no,” you whispered, looking in the direction of the door. “Is the whole BAU here? How badly did I fuck up?”

Quickly, Spencer shook his head, “You didn’t, at all. It’s just me, Tara, and Luke,” he tried to reassure you as best he could without knowing the full story. “Do you feel up to talking?” He asked, smoothing your hair away from your face.

You nodded gently, “I need to talk to Andi. Alone, if it’s okay with you.”

“I can wait right outside in the hallway,” he offered, holding your hand in his and skimming the pad of his thumb over top of your knuckles.

You hummed contentedly, “Could you see if I can have water?”

Grateful to have something to do, Spencer stood up, leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I’ll be right back.” He stepped out of the room, garnering the attention of the agents who were waiting in the hallway, all of them staring at Spencer expectantly, “Andi, she wants to talk to you.”

The Unit Chief nodded and disappeared into the room, leaving the door open just a crack.

He was gone for three minutes, that was the time it took him to walk to the nurses’ station and ask if you were allowed liquids and back, but when he returned the door to your room was wide open. “Where did they go?” He asked, looking over at Tara.

She was still leaning against the taupe hospital walls before nodding in the direction of the red exit sign, “Swann was in there for maybe two minutes before she came out in a huff, she took Alvez with her.” Lewis spoke calmly like it didn’t necessarily mean anything to her.

But it did to him. Walking back into your room, he stood at the side of your bed, “What did you tell Andi that you didn’t want me hearing?”

“Huh?” You sounded tired – rightfully so. Your pupils were dilated, which told Spencer that the drugs that the doctors had given you were working.

It comforted him that you weren’t in as much pain, but you were still hiding something from him. “You asked me to leave while you talked to Andi because you didn’t want me to hear what you were telling her. What did you tell her?”

Your face softened as your eyes filled with a different kind of hurt, “Don’t profile me.” You were too tired to hide the pain in your voice.

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged, “Don’t lie to me,” He countered. You were lying by omission, but what was worse was that you might’ve been putting yourself in danger.

“Please don’t leave me,” you whimpered.

Spencer’s chest tightened as he watched your eyes fill with tears, he sat down on the edge of your bed and took your hand in his. “I’m not going anywhere. Why would you think I’d leave you, darling?”

Your eyes were half-closed, “because you…” your voice trailed off and he squeezed your hand to get your attention. “When Scratch had Emily, you wanted to kill him,” you murmured.

The air had been knocked out of his lungs. You hadn’t been talking about a divorce. You were saying that you could identify your assailant, and you didn’t want Spencer to know. “I won’t go,” he whispered, “I’ll be right here.”

“It was Jake,” you mumbled, barely able to open your mouth as you fought your exhaustion.

That hadn’t been the answer he was expecting. He swallowed thickly, “Jake did this to you?” He asked slowly, looking at your hand, your fingers intertwined.

Minutely, you shook your head, “Jake blew my cover, Spence.” Yawning, you proceeded to mumble about him doing it on purpose.

Untangling your fingers, Spencer reached out and smoothed your hair away from your forehead, “Get some sleep, angel. I love you.”

You hummed an ‘I love you’ back, and the next moment your eyes were shut.

A nurse came in and asked for a moment while she checked the output of your chest tube, ushering Spencer and Tara out. “Okay, I’ll bite, who’s Jake?” Tara asked, putting a hand on her hip as she looked expectantly at Reid.

“Jake is her partner. When she’s not undercover and just out in the field, they’re partners,” Spencer explained.

Tara pursed her lips thoughtfully, “So, he would’ve known that she was undercover.”

Nodding as the newly added weight of the situation threatened to pull him down, Spencer turned and faced you, watching as the nurse examined you as you slept. “He blew her cover on purpose,” he reached up and rubbed his eye. Jake knew exactly what he was doing when he blew your cover, and you knew exactly what you were doing when you begged Spencer not to leave you.

“We have to go back in and ask her more questions,” Tara said.

Usually, Spencer agreed with Tara, but not this time. He saw the monitors you were hooked up to, he read your chart, and he watched the concerned looks on the nurses’ faces. They all told him that you weren’t stable enough to be speaking, let alone a cognitive interview. “No,” Spencer said finally.

Clearing her throat lightly, Tara stood next to him in the doorway, “We can’t let them get away, Reid.”

“And I can’t lose her,” he rebutted, ignoring the way his voice broke in his desperation. 

Stepping back slightly, the other agent nodded in understanding. “Okay, I’ll call Emily. You go sit with her.”

She didn’t have to tell him twice; he pulled a chair up impossibly close to your bedside and draped his jacket over the back of it before loosening his tie and sitting down.

You

When you woke up, it was still dark outside, but the bright lights of the hospital room made it hard for you to get any real rest. You were pleased to find that, true to his word, Spencer was right next to you when he woke up.

He was sleeping, resting his head on his hand with his wrist bent awkwardly. “Spence,” You whispered, clearing your throat, “Spencer.” You couldn’t reach out to touch him, but you wanted to wake him up, so his wrist wasn’t sore.

Jolting awake, he looked at you, “Hey, did you just wake up? How do you feel?”

It was a weird question, you felt like an absolute dumpster fire. “Better,” you whispered, “less hurt, achier. Sore. I don’t know, my head feels fuzzy,” you rambled, trying to move higher up on the hospital bed, but being limited by the chest tube. “How long do I have to have it?” You asked, staring at the plastic tubing as if you could make it go away via the power of suggestion.

“At least through the night, but it could be longer,” he said, reaching over and smoothing over the edges of your blanket. “Do you know what they gave you?” Spencer asked, shaking out his wrist.

You hummed in response, “No, it was intravenous though. They were big on amphetamines, but it didn’t feel like a stimulant. Benzos maybe,” you told him, your voice was soft. The pain in your throat had subsided after being intubated during surgery, but you were still swollen from when Cal grabbed you.

None of this made sense to you. The one thing that bothered you more than anything else was why Cal stopped when Jake said to. It couldn’t have been as simple as the money.

Spencer must’ve noticed you burrowing into your memories, “You remember everything?” He asked gently.

He knew what he was implying, in more cases involving severe trauma, victims generally remember everything or remember nothing. It was lucky for law enforcement when they remembered, but bad for the victims. Bad for you. “Mostly,” you breathed, avoiding his eyes. “I’m so sorry,” you said softly.

“Why? You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” he tried to reassure you, reaching out and taking your hand in his.

You hummed, “I don’t remember anything after they drugged me, just the stuff before. Just the…” Your voice trailed off as you returned to your confusion. “Who’s still here that I can talk to?”

He squeezed your hand comfortingly, “Do you feel up to it?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have much of a choice,” you answered him despondently.

Spencer nodded before he got up from his chair, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before he stepped out into the hallway and let Tara in.

The agent smiled at you gently, “Hey, Y/N, how are you feeling?” She asked, sitting down at a free chair at the end of your hospital bed, leaving the chair at your side available for Spencer to return to.

You gave your best attempt at returning the smile before you answered, “I think I’m going to make it.”

As Spencer sat back down next to you, placing a water cup on your bedside table, Tara opened a file and looked through it, “Can you start by telling me a little bit about your assignment? You were undercover as… Barbara?” She read from the file.

Nodding slowly, you held out your hand for Spencer to hold, “Yeah, but they called me Babs.”

Three days ago...

You shifted self-consciously in the gold dress. It was a silky, slippery number that displayed more than you particularly liked. Spencer would probably like it, but he’d hate how uncomfortable you were in it.

Inadvertently, you smiled at just the thought of your husband. It was late, so he was probably at home, reading next to the fireplace. Maybe he was on a case, off somewhere in the United States and saving lives.

It had been twenty-nine days since you had last seen him.

“You look gorgeous tonight, Babs,” Johnathan McCallister, better known as Cal, told you, reaching out and placing a hand on either one of your shoulders before placing a kiss on both cheeks.

Bashfully, you smiled at him, “You’re too good to me, Cal. I can’t believe you got me in!” Deep down, you knew tonight could be the night, you would be able to take down The Program. At least the D.C. chapter of it.

When it was over, you could be Y/N Reid again, instead of Barbara McFarston.

The Program took women around your age and sold them into sex slavery. The chapter in Washington D.C. was one of the most active, which made sense when you looked around the room and saw a majority of the people were elected officials – men and women alike.

Andi Swann had assured you that taking down this chapter would create a domino effect, causing the other chapters to topple. According to her, if you could take down D.C., Miami, and Los Angeles, The Program would most likely cease to exist.

Turning to ask Cal about the selection tonight, you were startled to see familiar gray eyes on your companion’s other side. You felt your façade slip, but only for a second before you pasted a brilliant smile back on your face.

You tilted your head to the side, “And who might you be?” You asked Jake, wondering if Andi had sent him in to get a status report on you.

“Jake Cohn,” he answered, and goosebumps spread over your exposed skin at his answer. He should’ve said William Jacoby, that was his identity for this case.

In horror, you watched as Jake leaned in to whisper something in Cal’s ear, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time. You bit your tongue as Cal wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in tightly, “Let’s talk.”

You stumbled a little over your own feet and looked at Jake with wide eyes, the leader forcefully shoved you into a private room, one that would probably light up like a Christmas tree under a blacklight. “What’s wrong, Cal?” You asked, standing up straight.

He reached over and grabbed the back of your neck, gathering the hair at the nape of your neck in his fist. The force of it made you scrunch your shoulders up, “You’re a fucking fed?” He seethed, tossing you to the ground in one swift movement.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried to convince him. Tried to flip the script so that Jake was the liar instead of you.

Cal grabbed your throat next, holding you down on a booth seat. “Oh, Y/N… Jake’s been one of my best employees for years.” He said, chuckling at the betrayal in your eyes, he only laughed more when you kneed him in the gut. “Oh, I like it when they fight back.”

You shut your eyes tightly as you heard the clinking of his belt buckle, but they snapped back open when you heard the word, “Stop.”

“What? Did you want first go on her?” Cal asked, wiping his cheek – you must’ve scratched him in your struggle.

Jake cleared his throat and met your eyes, “We should keep her clean, you know?” He said, and for a moment you thought he was actually trying to help you, “Think about how much a clean fed would go for here. Especially in D.C.”

And just like that, your hopes were dashed, “he’s right,” you told Cal, trying to formulate a plan.

“Shut up, whore,” Cal spat, causing you to involuntarily flinch.

At least there’s nothing he could call you that you hadn’t heard before, in your line of work, people got very creative.

Cal looked at you, inspecting your neck where he had grabbed you before, “You’ll make me a lot of money, won’t you?” He said, rubbing a hand up and down your arm soothingly before poking you with a needle.

Your legs gave out beneath you, but Jake caught you before you hit the ground. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t think he’d do this. I thought he’d kick you out, but I didn’t think…”

Looking up at him, your throat burned, and you weren’t sure if you were going to cry or throw up, but you shut your eyes. “No, you didn’t.” You don’t just casually tell the leader of a sex trafficking ring that the person with them is an FBI agent.

Present

“And that’s the last thing you remember?” Tara asked, scribbling something down in your file.

You nodded absentmindedly, “I think…” Your voice trailed off as you looked at Spencer, “I think Jake might’ve been in charge the whole time. Pulling the strings from behind the curtain while he waited for the perfect time to catch me off guard. That’s the only reason Cal would’ve backed off when Jake told him to,” You proposed your theory, not missing the way Spencer was holding your hand a little tighter than before.

Tara’s brows were raised, “Jake Cohn has worked in the bureau for almost a decade, it would be hard for him to evade detection for that long.”

“But he knows exactly how to evade it,” you rebutted. “He’d know all of the tricks from Sex Crimes and all of my tricks. He- He set me up,” you realized.

Spencer turned around and looked at your monitor, “Okay, let’s take a break. We can talk more later.”

Getting up, Tara let Spencer know she was going to call the rest of the team before she stepped back into the hallway.

“My chest hurts,” you said, hating how your voice sounded like a whine.

In response, Spencer smoothed your hair back in an attempt to comfort you. “Your heart is racing,” he whispered, “Take a deep breath, okay?”

You nodded slowly, breathing in deeply through your nostrils and letting the air collect in your lungs before blowing it out your mouth. Looking up at Spencer, worry plain in his eyes no matter how hard he tried to hide it, you came to a decision, “Spence?”

He bowed slightly closer to you so he could hear you better, “What is it, love?” He moved his hand, so it was gently cupping your cheek.

Leaning into his touch, you whispered, “It’s too much.” The only thing you had left was to hope he knew what you were talking about, the words were too hard right now, but you felt them contributing to the burning in your chest.

“Okay,” he answered. “It’s okay. You don’t have to worry about disappointing anyone.”

You practically melted back into the hospital bed; the weight of your job eased off of you. Nodding, you closed your eyes, “It’s good, this is good. I just feel crazy, but a good crazy.”

Spencer smiled at you, “Okay crazy,” he whispered, “I’m going to-“ He was abruptly cut off by his phone ringing, furrowing his brows, he swiped the screen and held the phone up to his ear, “Hey, JJ.”

Cocking your head to the side, you tried to listen to JJ’s side of the conversation, but either she was speaking quietly, or Spencer had his phone volume really low. From the way Spencer’s jaw tightened, you knew that this couldn’t be anything good.

He looked at you before looking at the door, “Do you know where?” He said in a tone entirely unfamiliar to you, it was low and steely. Reaching over you, he nimbly pressed the call button on your bed, “Okay, keep me updated.”

“Spencer, what is going on?” You asked as the nurse came into your room, faltering for a moment as she looked at the two of you.

Placing a hand on the bar of your hospital bed, Spencer looked at the nurse, “Do you have somewhere secure she can be moved to?”

The nurse looked shellshocked, surely the FBI occupying the hospital wasn’t an everyday occurrence, “I don’t… I don’t think so?” She seemed unsure of herself.

“Spencer,” you repeated his name.

He turned to look at you, “Jake’s here and he’s looking for you.” Turning back to the nurse, he pointed at you, “She has to be moved.”

“I don’t… I’m just a student, my preceptor is taking a break. I could try to find-“ The nurse stammered nervously. “We don’t usually just move people.”

Nothing about this situation was usual, but one look at Spencer told you this was life or death. Your life or your death. You sighed in defeat, “This is really going to suck.” Reaching over to your side, you gripped the tube that had been draining blood from outside your lung and pulled it out. Like ripping off a band-aid.

In the process, you tore the stitches holding it in place and set off all kinds of alarms, leading to a crowd of nurses and doctors charging into the room.

As someone held pressure down on where you were bleeding, someone said something about moving you to a sterile procedure room, and the nursing student trailed along, whispering “That was the stupidest smart thing I’ve ever seen anyone do.”

Everything was blurry when you woke up next and, through the blinds, you could see that the sun was finally rising. The warm, orange light peeking through like lines on a piece of paper.

“Hey,” Spencer said from right next to you, placing a gentle hand on your arm. “It’s okay, you’re okay,” he whispered.

You looked away from him, back towards the blinds, “Will you open them?” You rasped, your throat felt raw, and your body felt heavy.

He got up and ambled over to the window, twisting the mechanism until the sun poured into your room. “How are you feeling?”

“Heavy,” you whispered, the mental weight of the past several days was threatening to take you down, but physically you felt like Atlas himself, carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Spencer hummed in response, “They sedated you, standard procedure for people who rip their own chest tubes out.” He adjusted the way your gown rested on your shoulders, “Luckily you didn’t do too much damage.”

You took a deep breath and leaned your head so you could look out the window. The outside felt so foreign to you now, you couldn’t remember the last time you had breathed real, fresh air. “So, what is the damage?” Your voice was little more than a murmur but with just the two of you in your room, it wasn’t hard to hear.

“You’re going to be fine; they think the tube can go later today. Then they’ll evaluate whether enough you’re strong enough to go home, it’ll probably be another couple of days,” He explained to you, matching your gentle tone. “Johnathan McCallister is in custody, and Jake Cohn is dead,” he told you, studying your face for any kind of reaction.

Closing your eyes, you felt white hot tears stream down your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, laughing a little despite yourself. He probably thought you were losing it, crying over the death of someone who had nearly had you murdered.

The edge of your mattress dipped down slightly, and you opened your eyes to see Spencer sitting next to you, “You don’t need to be sorry, my love.” Gently, he rested a hand on your hip, skimming his thumb over the rough fabric of your hospital gown, “He was like family to you. I’m not sorry he’s dead – I’m not. I am sorry for that loss, though.”

Nodding, you felt it as your face crumpled, leading Spencer to lean down and hug you as best he could. “I’m sorry I scared you,” you said as he pulled away.

Your furrowed your brows in confusion as he reached into his pocket and produced your wedding ring, taking your left hand, he slid the rings on, “For better or for worse, right?”

A small smile grew on your face as the gem on your finger shimmered in the morning light, “for richer or for poorer,” you continued.

“In sickness and in health,” Spencer whispered, eyes flickering around the hospital room.

You reached up a shaky hand and cupped his cheek with your palm, “to love and to cherish.” You said, feeling a dopey, lovesick grin blooming on your face.

He turned his head and kissed the center of your palm, “until parted by death,” he finished, taking your hand in his.

“No dying,” you insisted, feeling your energy begin to drain, you started to understand why the doctors didn’t want you going home for a few days.

Spencer hummed in response, “You almost did. If you hadn’t been found when you were-“ his voice broke off and you had to tear your eyes away from his for a moment. “I still can’t believe you chose that,” he whispered, looking at you like you hung the moon.

Shrugging as if it was nothing, you melted back into the pillows, “I had a split second to weigh my options – get sold into sex slavery or get stabbed in the chest.”

“A catch-22,” he nodded, wrapping his head around your impossible decision. You couldn’t help but wonder how long it would take until the fear in his eyes left.

You shifted a little in the hospital bed, the sheets rustling as you did, “We get it, you’ve read Joseph Heller.”

He smiled at that, the light teasing seemed to bring brightness to his face, “What is it about blood loss that makes you think you’re funny?”

Laughing lightly, you squeezed his hand as tightly as you could manage, “I am funny. And I’m tired.”

“Go back to sleep then, baby,” he said softly, “it’ll all be here when you wake up.”

There was a party in your hospital room. It started with just Emily, coming in because you were finally up to seeing anyone other than Spencer, and it ended up being the entire BAU.

Someone had gone to the apartment and gathered clothes for you so that, once your chest tube was removed, you could put on real clothes. So now you were sitting up, wearing sweatpants and a ratty old college sweatshirt, and laughing with the BAU. You were leaning heavily on Spencer, who was also sitting on your hospital bed, but he didn’t seem to have a problem with keeping you steady.

Luckily for you, no one in the BAU wanted to ask about what had happened on your assignment, they were more interested in the rings that adorned your and Spencer’s fingers.

“I still can’t believe you two secretly got married,” Penelope said. “Of all of the times for me to not answer my phone.”

Next to her, Luke shrugged, “Honestly, I can believe it. It feels like a very Y/N and Reid thing to do.”

Gently, Spencer rubbed your back. His hovering was quickly going to become insufferable, but right now you were welcoming every touch with open arms.

“Well, we’ll have a party for the two of you. When you’re up for it, of course,” JJ said, smiling from where she was standing next to Emily.

You wanted to shake your head and tell them that it really wasn’t necessary, but asking the BAU to refrain from throwing a party was like asking a shark to stop swimming. Instead of debating, you just smiled and bobbed your head.

Eventually, Andi showed up, just as you knew she would. “Hey, guys,” Emily nodded in the direction of the doorway, “Why don’t we go raid the hospital cafeteria?”

After a few more hugs, including a lingering one from Garcia, the BAU, save for your husband, filtered out, and Andi made her way to the foot of your bed. “Hey,” you said, your voice was soft.

Nine years. You had spent nine years in the sex crimes unit. Spencer had done the math, you’d spent approximately seventy-six percent of that time undercover, missing birthdays, holidays, not ever really looking forward to the future. Until now.

You, the most decorated member of the sex crimes unit, were leaving.

Suspiciously, you eyed the files in Andi’s arms, one was a case file, the other a plain manila folder. She silently handed you the case file, and you shared a look with Spencer before flipping it open. “The Program is gone?” You asked, your eyes skimming the folder.

Swann nodded, her brown hair swaying with the movement, “The arrest of the leader of the D.C. chapter greatly contributed to that, but it was the death of the ringleader that took the remainder of The Program down.”

Closing your eyes, you nodded as you tried to process what she was telling you. Jake had been in charge all along. “Andi, I-“

“It was your intel that did it,” she cut you off. “From your last several assignments, everything you collected directly contributed to the downfall of this trafficking network. One of the largest networks the FBI has ever seen.”

She handed you the next file, labeled with only your name. You flipped it open, well aware that Spencer was reading from over your shoulder. “I don’t qualify for retirement,” you told her, furrowing your eyebrows, and looking at the papers in front of you. You didn’t qualify for retirement, and yet, you were looking at a retirement offer.

Your unit chief nodded understandingly, “I pulled some strings, with some help. Collectively, Prentiss and I know a lot of people.”

Spencer placed a supportive hand on your back, and you looked up at Andi. “I’m only thirty-two?” You asked, it wasn’t a clarification, it was a question.

“And yet,” she answered, “you’ve done more for the Bureau than most agents could hope to do in their whole career. This plan came from the director, Y/N. He wanted you to have it.”

Shaking your head, you handed the folder over to your husband so he could look through it. “I don’t… can I think about it?”

“He’ll want an answer soon but talk it over and give me a call when you’ve come to a decision,” she said, grabbing her things and making her way to the door. “And Y/N?”

You lifted your head up to meet her eyes, “Yeah, Andi?”

She smiled at you, a rare, real smile from her, “Make the right decision for you. You have a small army ready to support you through everything.”

Slowly, your gaze followed her out the door, waiting until you heard the latch of the door secure. Spencer handed the folder back to you, “What do you want to do?”

You flipped through the folder again, it was a lot of money, and there were a few different distribution options, but it was more than you felt you’d ever need. “I don’t really feel like I deserve this,” you whispered, reaching your hand up and rubbing the back of your neck. “The Bureau doesn’t offer early retirement like this, not without extenuating circumstances,” you continued.

“They did it with Hotch,” Spencer said, reading the file over your shoulder.

Shaking your head, you leaned over to look at him, “That was way different, Haley was murdered by a serial killer.”

Spencer sighed, “I think you’re selling yourself short, darling. The Program was trafficking almost 12,000 people across the country. That’s almost 70 percent of the yearly total trafficking victims. You took them down,” he told you earnestly.

Your shoulders slouched forward, “I didn’t do it alone, though.”

“Didn’t you, though? They sent you in with no communication device, no emergency signal, and information that wasn’t even true. Your unit told you Johnathan McCallister was the leader of the ring, but it ended up being a decorated agent and you’re the one who figured that out,” Spencer spoke emphatically. “You almost died in the process, and now there are thousands of victims who are going to go home – all thanks to you.”

Wiping at your eyes, you looked at your husband, “You’re biased.” That felt true, but Spencer was the person who knew you best in the world.

“What’s holding you back?” He murmured gently, sweeping strands of your hair behind your ears.

Smiling unsurely, you closed your eyes, “Fear of the future. In the past nine years, the longest I’ve ever been home was four weeks. I don’t… What do you want me to do?”

He shook his head slowly, “it’s not my decision.” A diplomatic answer, you should’ve guessed.

“But what do you want me to do?” You pressed.

Sighing, you watched him weigh his options, “If my choices are you going back out into the field and getting hurt again, where maybe it doesn’t have this good of an outcome, or you, safe at home, where I get to see you more than approximately three months a year, then the choice is clear.”

When he laid it out for you like that, it was pretty clear. “Maybe I could finally see what all the BAU spouses are talking about. You know, how you’re never home,” you said. Some part of you always felt disconnected from the other BAU family members, Spencer wasn’t the one who was never home, you were.

Spencer laughed lightly, “We could celebrate your birthday together.” That was the one day you always missed. Almost six years together, and something always came up on your birthday.

“I’ve never had this before,” you whispered, there was still something about it that felt tentative, almost frail.

Smilingly softly, Spencer reached out and took your hand in his, “Had what before?”

You beamed, “A future to plan.” Everything was always laid out for you, every day was spent waiting for the next directive, a new assignment. “I mean, not in nine years.”

There were always dreams, late-night murmurs with Spencer about a house with a yard and kids running around, but they were just dreams. The nights when you were able to sleep next to each other. “Do you have plans for us?”

Nodding rapidly, you answered, “Oh yeah, you and me, I’ve got big plans for us.”

next

please remember to like, reblog, and comment if you enjoyed :-)

[suga-kookiemonster]

ctrl-alt-del | jjk (teaser)

summary⇢ you graduated bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but, to your extreme disappointment, your big girl job isn't turning out to be nearly as exciting as you thought it would be. still, you're holding out hope that your talents will soon be recognized and your coworkers will stop trying to include you in their gossip sessions. enter jungkook, the quiet IT guy who's gradually making your days more bearable. (and if you find him easy on the eyes, that's nobody's business but yours.) pairing⇢ jungkook/reader teaser word count⇢ 1.4k genre⇢ smut | humor | office!au warnings⇢ nothing too bad for this teaser! just a mention of oral

a/n⇢this fic has literally been sitting in my wips for YEARS lmao. i feel like it's finally time to set it free 🕊️✨ it's looking like it's gonna lean more towards pwp, but there's definitely still enough plot in there to keep it interesting. not sure when it will be up, but wanted to share a snippet to get your thoughts and get myself excited to finish the last leg--fingers crossed for the next month or so 🤞🏾🙌🏾💜

When you graduated top of your class with a marketing degree and a job already lined up, you weren’t big-headed to assume you would be given a lot in the beginning. No, you knew that you were the new kid on the block and needed to prove yourself first, needed to work your way up from the bottom. But what you definitely didn’t anticipate was working up from thefigurative trenches, almost exclusively doing busywork—constantly making coffee runs, catering business lunches, printing out endless spreadsheets.

Eighty-thousand dollars in debt, and you are a glorified intern.

You’re positively itching to hit the ground running and get your hands dirty, your job isn’t too bad. The people there are all nice and welcoming, the complimentary coffee in the break room is decent enough for your dwindling bank account, and every couple of weeks, the company sponsors an employee barbecue were everyone can fraternize and enjoy free food.

“Apparently it fosters unity and teamwork,” your coworker Joy informs you as you both stand in the food line. “Seokjin—that’s our CEO—is really big on unity and teamwork.”

Joy is also a member of your marketing team. Though as sweet as can be, she has no filter, and thus always has a lot to say about everything—which has helped you when it comes to learning the ropes about the company, but has also had you clutching your imaginary pearls in some situations where you found it inappropriate. Despite only being a year older than you, her title of Marketing Associate (instead of your measly Assistant)means that she technically outranks you, though she doesn’t usually enforce that fact (unless there was something that needed to be copied or filed, of course). Still, she immediately took you under her wing when you first started, and she is the closest person to a friend you have at work (even though her daily coffee order is always so ridiculous, you are convinced that she has to be fucking with you—or at least engaging in some form of mild hazing.).

“I think it’s nice,” you reply. “I’ll never say no to free food, and they let us out early and everything.”

“I mean, pretty sure you can get the hotdogs twelve in a pack at the dollar store,” Joy quips, raising her eyebrows at you pointedly. “But sometimes the boys from Sales take their shirts off and play soccer, so there’s that.”

Your eyes dart to said Sales boys against your will, gaze drawn to Jung Hoseok as he chats animatedly with his teammates by the tables. You’ve only spoken to him once or twice, but his fiery red hair and even brighter smile caught your attention immediately, your heart rate accelerating at the sight of him in hallways mere days into starting your new position. Who better to have a mild work crush on than a sweet-talking salesman who winks at you sometimes in passing?

An appreciative noise has you turning back around, embarrassed at being caught ogling how shapely Hoseok’s butt looks in his dress pants today, but it’s just Wendy from accounting, Joy’s best friend and thus a harmless, familiar face. Wendy has cut in front of a few editors to join you and Joy, and the way that she smiles at you lets you know she’s up to no good. “He’s cute, huh?” she asks, leaning towards you conspiratorially. “I would definitely give him the good ol’ suck behind the dumpsters over there, if you catch my drift.”

“Err…yeah, I do,” you reply awkwardly. She had been explicitly clear—keyword explicit—so there definitely isn’t any room for misunderstandings. Is this truly appropriate work function conversation? From the way the editors behind you are politely clearing their throats, you think not.

“Behind the dumpster?” Joy asks curiously. “He’s standing right next to some sturdy tables that I, for one, would take great advantage of—”

“I’m gonna go get us some drinks,” you announce loudly, your neck heating up. “Can you grab me a hot dog, Joy?”

“Sure,” she says dismissively, already distracted by her sudden debate with Wendy about the most convenient place to suck off salesman Jung.

The whole conversation is making you uncomfortable. You are not a prude—far from it—but there is a time and place for everything, and your coworkers’ blasé attitude towards speaking about inappropriate topics at company functions on company time rattles you a bit. So instead of engaging in the risqué discussion further, you make your way to the cluster of brightly-colored coolers that presumably hold beverages, sidling up to the only other person lingering the area.

“Anything good?” you ask cordially, making your coworker, who had apparently been deep in thought while considering his beverage options, startle a bit.

He’s tall, his large frame covered in the appropriate business casual attire of nice jeans and a powder-blue buttonup. When he turns his head to look at you, you’re met with large, dark eyes blinking in surprise from behind wire-rimmed glasses. Said eyes dart around for a moment before determining that you were, in fact, speaking to him.

The man clears his throat. “Just the usual,” he says, voice soft. Timid.

“The usual?” you repeat. There are little hoops dangling from his earlobes, and you brush off your surprise at seeing them, returning your gaze to the coolers. Water, a clear soda, a cola. “The basics, you mean. Well, can’t really complain, right? Seeing as it’s all free. I think it’s really nice of them.”

Your companion seems surprised at your words. “It is,” he agrees softly, eyes meeting yours for a second before dropping back down to the cooler. “Um, are you...are you new?”

“Damn, I guess my cover’s blown.” You shoot him a wry smile. “Yeah, I just started a couple of weeks ago. What gave it away?”

“It’s just—no one else here really cares about these barbecues anymore,” he admits, looking at you, but not quite. More like, in your direction. “Everyone has forgotten to appreciate the little things.”

“Nothing is a given,” you shrug. “So you need to appreciate things when you can. And besides, those lots of little things can really add up without you realizing it.”

He finally seems to look at you properly, and the weight of his large, gentle brown eyes throws you off for a second. “They can,” he agrees, lips slowly drifting up. 

“What do we have over here?” a loud voice interrupts, a hand falling to your shoulder. You look up, and are met with the brightness of salesman Jung.

“Ah,” Hoseok says with a wink, reaching into the cooler. “I love Sprite.”

“Me too,” you reply automatically, and then immediately want to smack yourself. Because you don’t—carbonated beverages make you break out. But your mouth had formed the lie without your permission.

Embarrassed, you reach into the cooler, grabbing three water bottles. “See you later,” you squeak, avoiding eye contact as you make your escape.

Joy and Wendy are already watching you when you return to where they have procured a table, and when you hand them their waters, Joy raises an eyebrow. “I was wondering how long you were going to talk to that IT guy.”

“Yeah, and why did you leave when Hoseok showed up?” Wendy pouted. “_____, the universe is only going to give you so many opportunities. If you don’t want the ball, then pass it to me! Goddamn.”

“IT guy?” you ask, hoping to slide past that last remark.

“Yeah. His name is Jungkook, I think? Mostly works with the printers, started a couple months ago.” Joy shrugs, obviously disinterested by the topic. She reaches for the ketchup bottle in the center of the table and squirts some on her hot dog. “This is the first time I’ve seen him at a barbecue, though. Honestly, I’m surprised he even came out, because the IT dudes generally keep to themselves. The rarely leave their little tower,” she adds with a dismissive wave.

Wendy scoffs. “Who cares about Jeremy! Hurry up and eat, I’m sure Sales is gonna start their soccer game soon.”

“Soccer game?” you ask.

“The sales department likes to play soccer during these things,” Joy informs you. Her expression brightens. “Hey, maybe Hoseok will take his shirt off again! Let us pray.”

To your coworkers’ disappointment, Hoseok did not take his shirt off. But they certainly had a good time watching him run back and forth across the grass.

[simpjaes]

☆ WIP DIARY ── MILF HUNT (p.js)☆

You’ve never been one to chase younger men, but that doesn’t change the fact that one particular younger man won't stop chasing you. You barely recognized him at first, with the dyed hair, a matured attitude, and a darkened wardrobe. He definitely recognized you though and apparently has made it his mission to prove his worth to you. Unfortunately for him, you’re not interested in giving a chance to the pain-in-your-ass son of the family you used to babysit for. 

⨯ park jongseong x afab milf!reader  

⨯ minors dni

⨯ tags: tags are subject to change as i write this fic. age gap: reader is in her late 20s and jay is 22, milf trope, college pool boy jay (turned part time babysitter), reader has 1 kid and jay really wants to give her another, reader has morals!! jay just doesn’t care and is dead set on making her break her moral code for him lol, jay is actually very sweet when he gets what he wants

⨯ !WARNINGS!: warnings are subject to change as I write this. age gap, jay is the aggressor here, like he will not lay off it or take no for an answer. A LOT of chasing, manipulation, and dub-con (reader does want it). major breeding kink and kind of a mommy and daddy kink but mostly in terms of being turned on to having a domestic life lmao, angst regarding reader and her ex husband, reader has huge tits

LAST UPDATED: 10.19.24

⨯ est wordcount: 15k (hopefully not more this time)

⨯ current wordcount: 7.8k

⨯ est release date: tbd

⨯ taglist: ask to be on my perma tag list!

teaser:

Today, you’re more thankful for Jay than you have been previously. After a heavy workload has been lifted off your back with the approval of this project, you need a night out. 

He was so understanding when you called, even happy to come over right then and there to put your daughter to bed and mostly just house-sit for the night. Even without an end time for him, and even without asking for extra pay, he just…accepted with an understanding tone and that stupid breathy chuckle he gives to you when you ask for favors. 

It’s the fact that now, as he sits on your couch looking at you in your chosen outfit…he seems a little off. Maybe it’s because you asked him where the best spots in town are since it’s been so long since you’ve gone out, or maybe he just feels awkward seeing so much skin on your body. 

In reality, he’s just awestruck. Already you look great even after your busy days at work but…this is a different level. He’s struggling more than usual to keep himself calm around you, rubbing his legs together when you walk away and releasing a small sigh before you’re looking at him again.

His skin feels like it’s on fire knowing you’re going out looking like that.

“You sure you're okay to sleep over? I figure it’ll be easier since I’m not sure when I’ll come home, or if I come home.” You smile with a wink, your stomach in knots over the two shots you’ve taken for the first time in years. “I can call my friends and tell them not to come if you’d rather focus on your studies.” 

Jay shakes his head, waving his hands in defense for you. 

“No, no! Go on, have fun.” He says, as if encouraging you to go out despite hoping you come home with no luck of finding a man out there.

Just, look at you. He hates knowing that he could be one of the guys at whatever bar or club you’re landing on tonight. He could be the person that makes sure you don’t come home tonight. He could be whatever you want him to be if you’re looking like that. 

But no, he has to play husband again, which is normally something he’s all too excited to do. Tonight though, he feels like a fucking cuckold. After everything he does for you, after not mentioning how you’ve skipped a few of his payments, after slaving away for hours over your pool, your household chores, your goddamn stove to make sure you have a meal when you get off of work…you implied you may not come home tonight?

And you’re dressed as if you were intending easy access? 

And you’re…

Fuck, you just look so good right now. It pains him to know you didn’t dress like this for him, the only man in your life who cares enough to make your life easy. He’s not mad at you, per se, but he’s pissed that you don’t see him as an option despite showing you time and time again that not only is he an option, but the right choice. 

Maybe he’s just too deep in his one-sided roleplay but it really, really fucking feels like he’s watching his woman go off and look for someone to fuck, or love, or–

“Thank you, Jongseong,” You smile, walking over to him with a saunter in your step and a gentle smile across your lips. 

He’s never heard you speak such casual words so sensually. He’s never even seen you saunter before. Fuuucking hell, somehow it feels worse internally seeing you act like this, after how many times he’s imagined it. 

A slow walk from you, with the strap of your shirt slipping off your shoulder, lifting the hem of your skirt, or dress, or whatever you’re wearing in his fantasy at that point. Your voice, so soft, so sexy. And you’re practically bringing his fantasy to life right now, except he knows you’re going to fucking walk away from him like this. Into the fucking arms of some random dude at a club. 

“It means a lot.” You add, popping a quick, platonic kiss to the top of his forehead. 

Ah, it burns. That little kiss on him is enough to ignite him to the point of no return. He almost wants to skip the part of asking you not to go and straight up just beg that you pick him, that you choose him. It’s not just your home, or the luxuries that come with it. It’s you that he wants. You’re the fucking luxury and you’re just gonna go to some sticky-floored club and pretend he’s not clearly checking you the fuck out right now? 

The same way you checked him out so many times before realizing who he is? 

“It’s no problem.” Jay says shortly, now adjusting his body to sink deeper into your couch to keep himself from arguing against everything he’s giving you permission to do right now. 

Hah. Permission.

“Be safe.” He adds again, in an even more monotone voice. “I’ll be here when you get back.” 

And god, he seethes in his thoughts after you close that door and hop into the car with your friends. You don’t look like a mother tonight, and he wonders if you’ll be upfront and forward with anyone you intend to hit on too. Hah, probably not. He’s well aware of the men in this city, after all, he’s one of them.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jay hates that he’s now forced to get used to your late night ventures. Every weekend you ask if he’s willing to stay over so you can go unwind, and despite his better (or worse) judgment, he accepts. The only solace he finds in these ventures is knowing you consistently come back home right after usual closing times, and you’re mostly sober. Sometimes even a bit whiny that you’re not lucking out, worrying that maybe you’re too old now, or maybe you’re just not as desirable. 

He knows in your tipsy state that you usually wouldn’t talk about these things with him, but he’s all too happy to get the details once you come home. Mostly because it calms his rising rage at how you’re doing this, and entirely because you’re technically coming home to him. 

This time though…three in the morning has passed and normally you’d have been stumbling through the door an hour ago. Normally, he’d be fighting back the need to tell you that you’re beautiful, not too old, and entirely desirable. Normally, he would be fisting his cock in your guest room, getting off on the idea that he can cum in a house that you live in. 

Have you really done it this time? Gone off with some man? Are you getting railed right now in some hotel, or car, or someone’s shitty man-cave? God, his mind is racing, both aroused at the fact that you must be horny to be constantly wanting to go out like this, but equally as devastated because like…he’s right here.

Like, who the fuck cares if you babysat him? He’s a man, clearly. No longer that child who sprayed cheese in your hair or dumped salt into the bag of sugar. He’s a fucking man, cooking you dinner when you work, parenting your child, cleaning your house, maintaining your pool and fence….

Click.

Jay’s ears perk up instantly at the sound. He sits up on the couch from his depressed slump of scrolling through his phone, quickly fixing his hair and clearing his throat. 

In you stumble, right into the little entryway table with a whisper-screams “Shit, fuck–”

Jay looks at your state before standing to his feet and rushing to you, helping you balance on your feet despite your footing not quite being grounded even with his help. You lean on him closely, letting out a sigh. 

“You’re late.” He says shortly, smelling the alcohol on your breath and telling him, if the stumble didn’t, that you’ve had far too much.

“Late?!” You raise your voice before looking at him with drowsy eyes, furrowing your brow. “I don’t have a curfe-”

“Shh–” He shushes you, helping you get to the living room. “She’s sleeping and you’re going to have her make a fuss about waking up.”

You giggle to yourself as he drops you onto the couch, now aware that yes, you are not a single college student anymore. You’re a single woman. A fucking mother.

“Right.” You laugh, slouching, spreading out wide against the couch and trying to fix your gaze on him. “Why’re you still awake?”  Jay rolls his eyes before fixing them on you. God, the things he’d do to you right now. The things he could get away with if he wanted to. ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・ i'm really trying to keep this one at 15k or less, but i rly don't know if that'll happen. we shall see!!!

[justdontaskme]

Home Sick (Leah Williamson x Reader)

A/N: It's been so long! I'm trying to get back into things but don't be surprised if I dip again, unfortunately. I want to go back and finish some of my WIPs but needed to get something out. Let me know what you think!

Normally, a day off from practice was a godsend, and you’d spend most of the day tangled in bed with your girlfriend. The day would be filled with laziness as you both enjoyed the simplicity and stillness the rare day of no obligations could hold. 

Yet, today, at this very moment, you felt as if you were at your wit’s end. And said girlfriend was the source of much of the current frustration. 

You’ve been slaving away in the kitchen since you woke up this morning, preparing to feed your whole team as they were scheduled to arrive later today. If you were being honest, there was a part of you that was beginning to regret even deciding to host, but it was too late now. 

Ordinary team hangouts were usually chill, with all the girls coming over for drinks and a movie or game night. Today though, you had planned an early Friendsgiving dinner. Well, it was actually Emily’s idea after she heard you were feeling extra homesick this year. 

Your fellow American picked up on your sour mood lately, and she hounded you until you admitted that you had seen a bunch of videos about people already planning out Thanksgiving menus. In fact, your family group chat had been going off with your parents asking for a head count for the special dinner and any dish requests. 

Since neither you nor Emily were going to make it home for the holiday, it only made sense for you two to celebrate this holiday with your new team. It didn’t matter that they didn’t quite understand the hype of this specific holiday here on the other side of the pond, they were more than happy to learn and eat. 

When word got to Leah, she was onboard instantly, wanting to do whatever she could to help alleviate any feeling of you missing home. While you loved and appreciated your girlfriend for wanting to help, right now you really just needed her to get out of your way. 

“Leah! Get out of the kitchen!” you said, shooing your girlfriend away before she could knock something else over. You grabbed another dish towel and started wiping up the sauce the blonde managed to get all over the counter. 

“I’m just trying to help,” she said, standing right behind you with a bunch of paper towels in hand, causing you to run straight into her when you turned around. 

After throwing the dirty towel into the sink to rinse later, you grabbed Leah’s shoulders so you could face her directly, “I know, babe, but right now you are literally stressing me out more than you are helping me.”

The blonde pouted, visibly deflating, her voice mumbled, “I didn’t mean to stress you out.”

Your face softened at her words. Leah really was just trying to help, but with a million different things going on in the kitchen at once she was more a hazard than anything else. A hand went up, cupping her cheek.

“I know you want to help, but cooking has never been your strong suit,” you said, your voice light to let her know you were teasing. “How about you help instead by sitting right here,” you patted the kitchen counter that was currently free of anything, “and keep me company?”

“I could do that,” she smiled, stepping away from you just enough that she could hop up and place herself in the open space you had previously cleared for her. 

Once she was settled, you took a step forward, standing between her legs, “You’ll be the best helper from right here.”

She dipped her head down, stealing a quick kiss from your lips. “Anything else you need from me?”

“I just need you to sit there and tell me I look pretty,” you told her, your arms slipping around her as you hid your face in her neck. 

“Oooo, complimenting my beautiful and gorgeous girlfriend. My speciality,” she grinned, her hands running up and down your back soothingly. 

As Leah sat there, with her cheek resting against the top of your head, she whispered all the sweet nothings you wanted to hear into your ear. It helped calm your racing mind as you started to refocus on the task at hand. 

Reluctantly, you stepped out of Leah’s embrace, one hand sitting on her thigh as you turned and took in the kitchen, mentally planning out what dish needed attention next. You left Leah to attend to your dishes, asking Leah to taste things here and there. In your mind, since she was the pickiest eater on the team, if it passed Leah’s taste tests, then it would be good enough for the others. 

If anyone asked, you would deny it, but you literally almost cried in relief when Alessia and Emily showed up almost two hours later. Your friends being the extra sets of hands you desperately needed in the kitchen. With their help, things started moving much more smoothly. 

As the day went on, your teammates slowly started to filter in with drinks, other homemade dishes, or desserts in hand. Now that you had helpers, Leah was free to play hostess, checking in on everyone and making sure you were supplied with drinks that Katie was kind enough to mix for everyone. A few of your teammates offered their help, but with the kitchen being as small as it was, you, Emily, and Alessia were better off handling the food. 

Steadily, the house filled with smells of all the different food as things were almost done. The space in your apartment was becoming almost nonexistent, but it was obvious your teammates were enjoying themselves if their laughs and screams were anything to go by. Despite what some would consider chaos, this is exactly what you needed. 

As the last few dishes were either finishing up or were being reheated, you three finally took a nice break to catch up on drinks and gossip. 

Alessia was telling a story about something Tooney had gotten herself into back in the day when you felt a pair of arms slide around your waist from behind.

“Everything alright, sweetheart?”

You turned your head to find Leah flashing you a bright grin. Her smile was one of the reasons you were enjoying yourself so much despite all the crazy and hard work from prepping and cooking over the past few days. 

“Everything is perfect,” you told her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she said, squeezing you a little tighter. She held you in her arms, joining in on your conversation with Emily and Alessia, only disappearing once to refill your drink for you. 

When the timer went off from the oven, you felt like a huge weight was lifted off of your shoulders. Your friends chuckled as they watched you slip out of your girlfriend’s arms and back to the oven.

With a huge sigh of relief, you slipped on the oven mitts and went to grab the star of the night. While having a turkey was a staple for the holiday, you decided to forgo it to keep your sanity for the day. 

Instead, you decided to try your hand at something new that you felt would garner much more appreciation. After triple checking that everything was cooked and ready, you gave Leah a nod to get everyone ready to eat. 

“Dinner is ready!” she called, watching as a few of the young ones and Katie started playfully shoving each other in their haste to get first in line for food. You watched as everyone lined up buffet style and served themselves before looking for a space to eat, either at the table, on the couch, or up against the wall.

After everyone else was served, you grabbed a plate and started making a plate for your girlfriend as she went to reprimand the young ones for making a mess on the coffee table.

“This is so good, Y/N! Can you cook for us all the time?” Beth said around a mouthful of food. 

You rolled your eyes, “I already do, Beth,” you reminded her, thinking of all the days Beth would show up unannounced, looking for food and company since Viv moved to Manchester. 

“True, but you don’t make all this,” she countered, stealing a piece of bread off of Steph’s plate when the Australian was dealing with Kyra trying to overload her plate with food. 

“Thanksgiving special, so enjoy this while you can because I will not be cooking like this for some time,” you said, handing Leah her plate of food, when she came back. 

“Aren’t you eating?” she asked after thanking you, taking a seat so you could then sit in her lap. It was a little harder for her to eat this way, but she really just wanted you close. She felt like she barely saw you today as soon as people started showing up. 

“Maybe later, I just need a sec,” you told her, urging her to eat while the food was still hot. Honestly, you had quite a fill from taste testing and right now you were content to sit back and watch everyone enjoy themselves as long as you had a drink in hand.

“I’m a bit surprised there weren’t Smileys on the menu, with Leah living here and all,” Alessia said, digging into her food. 

You chuckled, seeing Leah’s mouth fall upon at the open attack, “We’re working on expanding her horizons on her food.”

Your girlfriend turned to you, her face full of betrayal, “I eat more than just Smileys!”

“Oh, I know, babe. Why do you think I made a ham instead of a turkey? Now you’ll be set with a ham sandwich for like the next week,” you said, grabbing a napkin to wipe the bit of food that spilled from the side of her mouth.

“Lucky! Now you don’t have to cook. Not that you really did much of that before.”

“I can cook!” Leah nearly shouted, sitting back from her food, glaring at her teammates.

“No, Leah. You can heat things up. There’s a big difference,” Lia said, jumping on the train to tease her best friend.

“I would take more offense to that, but you lot are just jealous that I have a girlfriend who is not only insanely pretty but loves to cook for me,” Leah said, sitting up proudly and sending you a quick wink.

“I mean she’s not my girlfriend, but she does keep me fed pretty regularly,” Beth reminded her. 

“And for that comment, Beth, you are not allowed to take any leftovers home with you,” Leah asserted, a satisfactory smirk in place when her friend immediately tried to backtrack all statements.

“Are we going to go around the table and say what we’re grateful for like they do in movies?” Kyra asked, switching topics before Leah and Beth’s banter could continue. 

You waved your hand, dismissing the idea while you took a rather large swig of your drink. The alcohol started to kick in and relax you more now that all of your responsibilities for the day were now over, “No, not really. I don’t know about you, Foxy, but we never really did that at my house. It sounds sweet in practice, but it was pretty awkward the one year we tried it. You are more than welcome to share if you want, but don’t feel like you have to.”

“I, for one, have something to say,” Leah stated, chasing her last bite with a bit of water before she cleared her throat. “It may sound corny and everything, but I want to say I’m thankful for having all of you in my life, especially this one right next to me. After doing my ACL, having you lot support me through it all and being able to share things like this is a dream.”

“Stop being so emotional, you’re going to make me cry,” Katie shouted, pretending to fan away imaginary tears in her eyes.

“Okay, okay, one more thing. Last one to clean up after themself is on dish duty!” Leah exclaimed, taking the last bite from her plate before rushing to put the dish in the sink.

From there it was a mad rush to the sink, as a few snuck around, packing some food to go home with them as the chaos reigned around them. 

You continued to watch everything unfold with rapt interest, refilling your glass and cheersing with Foxy who was following your lead. With these people you considered a second family, you truly felt a sense of home, healing that little patch of homesickness you had been feeling lately. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You've had a crush on your best friend for years, but you're slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: nice to see ya again!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Thor makes himself as permanent as the layers of sediment. Whether you’re in the dirt or looking over the charts and maps, making notes or sorting through your findings, he appears. Knowing he’ll be there keeps you coming yourself. Despite the short nights and long drives, thinking of him finding an empty site deters you from a day off, even against Sam’s pleas. 

The night before was filled with similar chiding from your friend. Sam is as persistent as ever. He always has a new account of his antics with Bucky and never forgets to tell you to take a break. You can’t stop though. You know if you do, you’ll have to think about everything you’re denying. 

The time away has given you time to breathe but it’s suffocated you in new ways. Along with that weight on your chest that has a name, there’s another you can’t quite understand. The one that sees you spending your spare hours alone and your working hours longing for anything but. You’re desperate to get out but terrified of the very same. 

When he arrives that day, you’re ready to give up. The tension in the air is giving you a headache and the dampness makes your skin feel sticky. You just feel gross. 

“Ah, I didn’t think you’d brave the weather today,” he muses as Thunder hops around his feet. You don’t look up, in a mood as grim as the sky. “You’d do well to stay in tomorrow. Trust me.” 

He’s always right about the weather. It must be the familiarity and yet it’s almost eerie how accurate he is. You might take his advice. You don’t like being wet and you’re starting to go cross-eyed from the hours and hours of concentration. 

Thunder yipes as you use your gloves to brush away clumps of dirt. Thor’s footsteps mulch patches of grass that sparsely carpet the dirt. He hums as his shadows looms in your peripheral. 

“Yes, my darling, I believe you’ve found the perfect spot,” he praises. 

You look over curiously. What is he talking about? You only notice then that he has more than the tiny dog with him. He has a basket on his elbow and a blanket under his arm. You sit up and watch him place down the former and shake out the latter.  

He spreads the blanket over the dirt and Thunder jumps onto it, rolling around on the fabric, digging her nose into the patched quilt as she wiggles across it. You clap off your hands and watch him as he gets down to his knees and flips open one side of the basket. He lays out several containers and two thermos’; one is the very same he brought you tea in.  

“I thought you could use a nice lunch before the weather turns,” he stands and nears the fence, “summer doesn’t last long here. You may as well enjoy it.” 

“Lunch?” You utter. 

“Brunch?” He suggest coyly. “Surely you can take a break. You are only human, you need to eat.” 

“You...” you lean to see around him, “you brought me lunch?” 

“I know it isn’t the most elaborate picnic but I thought it might be a pleasant surprise. I must confess I’ve been rather bored these days,” he admits, “so?” 

“Thor, that’s so... sweet,” you frown, “but...” 

“Work, work, work. Surely they can’t expect you to work yourself to the bone, pardon the pun,” he insists, “it will only be a bit.” 

“Yes, but...” you leave the sentence to hang. You don’t have a good excuse. You don’t know. It just makes you nervous. It’s a whole lot of effort for just you.  

“Oh, I don’t mind if you would rather stay over there. Only mean more for, eh, Thunder?” He asks the canine tramping around the blanket. “More than happy to sit here and enjoy my jelly cookies and hot coffee. 

“Coffee?” Your brows raise. 

“Freshly brewed. Promise, There’s nothing pickled. Though I don’t mind a nice herring,” he grins. 

Thunder bounces over and barks at you. She stands on her hind legs as she paws at the barrier between you. Now, how can you deny her? 

You stand and shed your gloves. You carry them over to the table beneath the tent and grab a wet wipe from the back. You come back under the open sky as you wipe your hands. 

“Sorry about all the dirt,” you scoff as you cross the dirt. 

“I don’t mind,” he assures you. He pulls apart the panels of the fence to let you through. It isn’t something you could ever forget but you can’t help but be stricken again by his sheer size. 

You bend to pet Thunder as she gets between your feet. She licks your fingers and you giggle. She’s cute. 

“Go on, pick her up,” Thor goads, “she loves it.” 

You scoop up the dog and stand. She squirms as she wags her tail incessantly. She swipes your chin with her tongue and you scrunch up your face. You carry her to the blanket and look over the spread. A leafy salad, pasta salad, sandwiches, cookies... There’s so much. Your protein bars and peanut butter and jelly can’t compare. 

“Oh gosh, this... a lot.” 

“Is it? Isn’t too much. We’re friends, yes?” 

“Friends?” You face him as you pet Thunder’s soft head. 

“Perhaps it is rather one-sided. You are obligated to be here, I just sort of haunt this place,” he chuckles. 

“No, no, friends,” you smile, “that sounds about right.” 

You turn away and lower yourself onto the blanket, sure to keep your boots off of it, as you hide your face. There’s a tinge of disappointment. You hear a far off echo in your head. How many times did Steve say the same; we’re friends, just friends, you’re such a good friend. Well, that’s all this is. No need to be so sensitive. 

“Do you ever take time off?” He asks as he gets to his knees. 

You look at him as you put Thunder down. He barely keeps her from chomping down on a rye crust. He lifts her easily and she kicks her legs. 

“Eh, you beast,” he points a finger at her snout, “be good.” 

He sets her back on her paws and she obeys. He tells her to sit and she does so. Her eyes continue to hungrily rove over the food. How can he resist them? 

“Like you said, the weather won’t last. Should get done what I can before the ground gets cold.” 

“Ah, yes, that is a concern,” he tuts, “how would you deal with that?” 

“Heat lamps, tiger torch... jackhammer if I really need but I’d have to put in a request for that...” you hadn’t thought too much into the inevitability of winter.  

“Ah, that’s...” he smirks, “I’m sorry but the idea of you with a jackhammer,” he snorts. 

“Hey,” you pout. 

“It isn’t to be mean but... you’re so gentle. When you dig, you’re so delicate about it.” 

“Am I?” You wonder. 

“Mm, is it a bit weird to say so?” He wonders aloud. “Yes, you are very precise, very cautious.” He takes out a set of plates and offers you one, “please, help yourself.” 

“It must be boring watching. Really, I’m the one digging and it gets dull,” you accept and pluck out one of the sandwiches. Salmon, you think. 

“You make it interesting,” he muses. “You talk to the bones.” 

“I talk to the bones?” You repeat, “what?” 

“Yes, I suppose you’re not aware of it. But your lips move when you’re focused. As if you’re chatting up the dirt,” he chuckles, “sometimes a few words do slip out.” 

“They do?” You blanch before you can help yourself to the salad. 

“You don’t say much. Usually something about the dishes, I’m not too sure.” 

“You never mentioned,” you look away shyly. 

“It’s... cute,” he shrugs. 

“You mean crazy,” you shake your head. 

“I say what I mean,” he counters. “No use in not. We can’t be happy if we’re not honest, not least of all with ourselves.” 

You’re quiet as you turn your attention to your plate. His words feel sharp despite his placid tone. You know it’s only because they’re true, especially for you. If you’d just accepted everything sooner, if you hadn’t been so dumb, if you hadn’t been so emotional, it would never have gotten so bad. No, if you’d just been honest. 

“I hope... I hope that didn’t come off wrong,” he says. 

“No, no, I’m... this all looks so good and I’m starving,” you assure him as you sit back with your plate. “Thank you again. This is... great.” 

“Well, I was thinking, you must miss your friends. I might be a paltry substitute but I thought i might fill that gap, even just for an hour.” 

“It’s really...” your eyes tingle but you push away the tinge of sadness, “it’s really nice.” 

“So tell me,” he scoops up salad onto his plate, “tell me about home.” 

“I...” you begin, surprised by the prompt. “It’s just home. New York. It’s busy and loud. Not like here.” 

“No, not that. Your friends. I want to know all about them. If I’m ever going to come up standards, I’ve got to know the competition.” 

You laugh. He speaks as if he needs to impress you. It’s nice to be somewhere where no one knows you’re not that special. You take a bite of the sandwich and chew, thinking out your question.  

You swallow, “well, my friend Sam, he calls every night to bitch at me. He’s great. Supportive but pushy. He likes to terrorise Bucky. He’s the strong and silent type, you know? Grumpy to boot but they’re... they’re awesome.” You smile without thinking, “before I left, they took me to this cocktail bar...” you blow out between your lips and roll your eyes, “real girly stuff.” 

“Ooh, cocktails. I’ve been known to indulge. I love finding new recipes.” 

“Really?” 

“Oh, yes, I love the sweet ones. I’ve only just perfected my blueberry basil concoction. I’m afraid I can’t share the secret ingredient unfortunately.” 

“Blueberry?” You ponder the flavour, “sounds yummy.” 

“Perhaps one day you can try it,” he suggest. 

“Maybe,” you say evasively. “Anyway, yeah, Sam and Bucky are... characters.” 

“They sound like it. How’d you meet?” 

“Oh, it’s boring. What about you?” 

“It’s not my turn,” he deflects, “tell me.” 

You don’t know why he cares. It’s as confounding as everything else about him. You still don’t get why he’s here watching you sit in the dirt. It sounds as grueling as watching a golfing tournament, in your opinion. Yet here he is, a man who looks like that, staring at you in your mud-stained khakis. 

“College. We met through a mutual friend,” you explain vaguely. 

“Ah, so you’ve been friends for some time. Yes, I see, I’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” he hums thoughtfully as he toys with the braid that hangs loose by his face, the rest of his hair twisted back as always. 

“Steve,” you say without thinking, your eyes drifting off into the distance, “he was my best friend. We met in art history. We spent almost every day together. Studying, whatever. He was more of a partier than me but... fifteen years, more than, and we saw each other...” You choke on your words and scoff darkly, “sorry, that’s... I’m homesick, I think.” 

You bat away the glaze in your eyes and focus on your food. You take a few bites as he sits quietly. Thunder stands up cautiously and crosses the blanket. She settles against your leg, leaning her head on your thigh. It’s comforting. 

“Yes, I think I would be very homesick as well. I lived in the city for a while but mother and father, they need me. And I love this mountain. It’s home. There was nothing in Oslo for me. I can work from here.” 

“Work? What exactly do you do?” You ask, happy to divert from your own painful past. “Oo, are you like a farmer? Or a shepherd. There must be sheep up here or something.” 

He laughs, “there are some sheep, yes, but those are protected by the government. We’ve not much of a choice where they settle. No, I’m not so savvy as all that.” 

“Hm, you... oh, what could do you here?” You look around, “on a mountain... oh, tours? Do you give tours?” 

He laughs, “it’s not a bad idea, but no. I’m a business owner.” 

“A business. You must sell fitness or something.” 

“Must I?” He narrows his eyes, “and what else do you assume about me?” 

“Oh, it’s only you’re so...” you cringe as you eke out the word, “big?” 

“Genetics,” he affirms, “not that but close, in a matter of looking at it. You recall that tea I brought you, with the cloudberry?” 

“Uh, yeah, it was sweet. Yummy.” 

“I’m happy you enjoyed it,” he smiles proudly, “I make superblends. All Nordic ingredients. There is a demand for wellness and organic products. I found the right niche and I’ve not done too badly.” 

“Must not if you can live all the way up here,” you remark. 

“Yes, but... it’s a reason I moved back. Business is a lonely venture. Now I’ve got it all figured out, I have my managers and my business plan, I break even, I realise how much I put to the side,” he mulls his sandwich and takes a glum bite. It’s the first time you’ve seen him anything but bright and beaming, “I feel like I’ve fallen behind. Like I’m playing catch up.” 

His words sink in and storm inside of you. You crunch on the crisp lettuce and gulp. You wipe your mouth with a napkin and clear your throat. 

“I know exactly what you mean,” you say breathily. 

“Do you? You’re out here, on an adventure all you’re own, how brave,” his voice is wistful and his gray blue eyes reminds you of the clouds above. 

“Yes, I know,” you say, “better than you. Trust me.” 

You smile, a bittersweet tug in your cheeks, and he stares back at you. Your eyes cling to each other and you feel as if the world is moving around you. He smiles and a glimmer of something unfurls in your chest. You make yourself look away. 

“Well,” you push the salad around your plate, “what about you? You must have friends, aside from the girl in the dirt.” 

He hums and scrapes up a bite of the pasta salad. He takes his time chewing before he answers. You scratch Thunder’s nose as she sniffs at your plate. 

“Yes, if you ever come to sample my cocktails, you might meet a few,” he coaxes, “I think you’d get along. Hogan and Vol, and Fandy. All good company. Sif’s not around so often when my brother’s around but he’s as fleeting as the sun.” He tuts, “I would call Loki a friend as well but he does scowl at the very thought.” 

“Loki?” 

“My brother of course,” he explains with , “yes, he is quite the dour one. He might get along with that Bucky.” 

[a-ikuoliver]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞?

what's your favourite scary movie? | k. bakugou— k-atsukibakugou

finally convincing one of your best friends to come to the 30th anniversary re-release of scream, he figures out one of your best-kept secrets

pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader w/c: 4.9k warnings: femme reader (called girl, has a pussy, wears makeup n a skirt), death threat kinda lmao, public & unprotected sex, blood mention, knife mention, reader implied to be recon/stealth hero, not beta’d bc i got nervous and we die like men, this is like all lead up my b notes: HAPPY LATE HALLOWEEEEEEN this is sorta inspired by @katsukikitten's post and um i have no explanation for this i was possessed by that post n my fat crush on katsuki and I KNOW scream came out in 1996 imagine the timelines line up lmao crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • recent wips & updates • kofi • askbox

“pleaaaase?” you’re too aware you’re whining, your bottom lip stuck out in a pout, probably only one more emotionless denial away from getting on your hands and knees and begging the stoic hero, “i’ll owe you? i'll do anything you want!”

you caught the mischievous sparkle in his eye at your promise, dropping your head in desperation to your hands still clamped together like you were praying, one final time, you pleaded, “please? it’s the thirty-year-anniversary re-release! i can't miss it!”

bakugou made a sound like he was thinking over your request, eyes glancing between the two tickets in your hand, the blood red title printed at the top calling his name, and your pleading eyes, a gravelly hum low in his throat. his mind had been made up since you asked, already planning on watching the theatrical re-release, it was just his luck your favourite horror movie was his, too. but he didn’t plan on telling you that quite yet, revelling in your desperation after a third rejection; eijirou too scared of a slasher, denki already having plans for a different night, and sero scheduled to patrol.

“you’ll do anything i want just for a movie?” his voice was mildly condescending, but the twitch in his lips had you rolling your eyes and crossing your arms like a grumpy child bargaining with a guardian, “if that’s what it takes!”

exasperated, you throw your head back with a groan, about to turn to him and announce your forfeit when he beats you to it, pinching the extra ticket from your hand, a satisfied smirk painted on his lips, “i’ll pick you up friday night, ya owe me one.”

katsuki walked away without even waiting for your response, leaving you simultaneously frustrated at your friends toying with you, and cheering at finally having found someone to join you.

punctual as always in his adult years, katsuki was outside your door friday night half an hour earlier than when you told him to drop by and get you, fists banging on your door while you were still tugging your skirt over your hips, just getting the zipper up when you swung the door open, already growling at your friend standing in the doorway in front of you, “i heard the first thirteen times you knocked.”

you toyed with the hem of your shirt, stepping aside to let him inside, promptly looking him up and down to admire the casual outfit he wore, far different from the hero costume you were used to seeing on him, the simple black cotton stretching over his broad chest somehow emphasising the muscles there more than the tight costume. there was a hint of a necklace underneath the collar of the shirt, the thin line of silver glinting under the lowlights of your hallway, similar jewellery on three of his fingers, and his blond locks sitting normally, spiked up around his head, his undercut leaving his ears free to show off the handful of piercings there. glancing back up, your eyes locked on his glinting ruby eyes, already watching you drink him in, the eye contact only breaking when he tapped his heavy boots on the floor just inside your door, “quit whining, how long are ya gonna be?”

you rolled your eyes at his impatience, waving him off while fixing your hair in your reflection in the glass beside the door, “give me two minutes.”

you flitted back up the hallway, swift and silent as he was used to seeing you be, leaving him beside the door to take a glimpse around your living room, taking in the little plush ghostface sat front and centre on your couch, blood red felt stitched over its soft knife, a stack of novels beside the couch, a few titles he recognised as classics, and more horror novels he knew nestled between scattered romance titles. he heard a few more heavy bumps from your bedroom, just out of his view before you emerged once more, in a tight shirt, gorey graphic printed in the middle, a sweater thrown over your arm and boots looped in your fingers, a cute garnet charm dangling off the back of each loop of fabric, “you want me to fill up your car?”

your question had his eyebrows shooting into his hairline, “the fuck are you on about?”

“to repay you?” you asked dumbly, stepping closer to place your key in the lock, clicking it locked once your tall friend ducked under it and stepped outside onto the driveway. he sucked his teeth disapprovingly, unlocking his car with you bounding over to the passenger side, jumping into the seat to wiggle your boots onto your feet, he only dignified you with a response once he was seated on the dark leather, huffing out a grumpy, but demanding, “you’re not payin’,”

reversing from your driveway, he interrupted when you opened your mouth to argue back, “besides, i haven’t decided what i want from ya yet,” katsuki smirked at you, vermillion eyes darting from his rear view mirror to you when he propped his arm behind your headrest to make sure the road was clear, speaking again with all your focus studying the way his lips moved with every low syllable, “it’s more fun keepin’ you in suspense.”

head dropping from the clouds, you glared at him, unsure if you were more annoyed at his self assured grin or yourself for throbbing from it, leaning down to tie the lace of your boots, “fine, last time i'm offering though.”

katsuki shook his head, exiting onto the road towards the cinema, ending the conversation there, and leaving you both to settle into a comfortable air, sometimes dropping into silence, sometimes a casual conversation about your hero work until you reached the quiet theatre, arriving with plenty of time to spare before your screening. the lot was dead, nowhere near as busy as you expected it to be, katsuki parking with no one else beside him for at least twenty feet in each direction.

locking his car, you both made your way inside, side by side through the glass doors of the cinema, decorated for today with original posters, thin black fabric on the walls, the doors spattered with dark red fake blood, even the employee checking tickets adorning a flimsy ghostface mask. you were practically buzzing with excitement, squeezing his forearm when you saw the guy ahead, handing your ticket over for him to scan. the corner of his lip twitched in a grin, never seeing you geek out quite so much like you were right now, your eyes shining with excitement right up until he turned to face the fabric screen playing static.

the static soon faded into the production logos, and finally, the title screen; scream. you were vibrating in your seat, eyes glued to the screen so much you hardly had any of the popcorn he’d got for you both to share, only occasionally did you reach for the cup to take large sips, all without tearing your eyes from the screen. katsuki was even beginning to question the last time you blinked.

gradually, as the movie went on, he noticed your minute squirming more and more, first dismissing it as discomfort from sitting in the one spot too long, but the longer he fixated on you, the more he noticed your inability to remain still, your legs crossing and uncrossing every five minutes. your clothes rubbed against the fabric of the chair with every wriggle, the rustling having him observe you from the corner of his eye more than he watched the final act, deep red irises catching you swipe your tongue across your lips, your sparkling eyes darting around the screen, your black skirt doing nothing to hide the way your thighs were pressed tightly together.

your wide pupils reflected the carmine on the screen, heart eyes locked on the blood spattered slashers on the screen, your ears blocking out the monologue to focus entirely on the villain’s bloody face, lips just parting to release a short puff of breath you didn’t know you were holding in your heaving chest.

realising he was staring, katsuki clenched his sharp jaw and focused back on the crescendo of the third act, trying to ignore the way you kept writhing right up until the credits were rolling. you stayed fixated, entranced, for a minute longer, unable to hide your smile when the lights slowly turned back up, illuminating your shiny, plump lips and your hungry eyes. without wasting another second you started gushing over the movie without looking at katsuki, half of your words running into the next without so much as a breath between them, sounding more like the obsessive deku the longer you prattled on about the characters and theories.

you were still chatting his ear off when you both made your way down the carpeted stairs towards the exit, past the decorations and blood splatter once more, out of the dead theatre, spotting only one or two employees left cleaning counters and floor as you left, their costume discarded on the counter as they swept.

exiting into the night, a gentle icy wind blew through your body, making a shiver wrack your body. you gripped katsuki's wrist to drag him faster to his car, desperate to retrieve your forgotten sweater from underneath the passenger seat before your lips turned blue. your tugging did little to change his pace, his heavy boots stomping along the paved car park, illuminated only by the moon and a singular lit lamppost just outside the cinemas doors, his car shrouded in the darkness of the night, alone in the lot.

chirping as it unlocked, you swung the door open immediately, digging around under the passenger seat where you knew you’d dropped the sweater, not paying attention to your friend climbing into the driver's seat beside you, still rummaging around under the seat when he made a disapproving sound. finally getting hold of the soft fabric of the sweater, you pulled it from under the seat, and into your lap to untangle the sleeves of it while eyeing katsuki, catching the signature scowl gracing his lips, although this one seemed tinged with confusion, tongue clicking against his teeth as the dashboard made a beeping sound once more before it turned dark. you watched him try it once more with a frustrated curse, “useless fucking thing.”

you pulled the sweater over your head, confusion painted on your face now, too, as you watched him reach under the steering wheel to click the lock for the metal bonnet.

“what’s going on?” curiously, you leaned over to peer at the dashboard with him, watching his nimble fingers unbuckle his seatbelt and climb from the car.

“‘m not sure yet, battery might be dead.” he grunted, closing the driver's door to go around the front of the car. you watched him through the pristine windshield until he was blocked by the bonnet being lifted and locked up into place. you followed suit, meeting him around the front, scarlet eyes darted around the metal and tubes and batteries, a muscular arm flexing when he squeezed the metal in frustration, swearing once more.

“shit, i’ll need to call for a jump.” you watched him think, sadly studying the battery that was ruining your plans with your bottom bedside drawer. “oh.”

“wait in the car, i’ll call ei to come help us.'' without question, you nod, studying the way he leaned back on the car, pulling up the number pad, rapidly typing in both of your closest friends' number. sparing one last glance up at him, you caught the unreadable look on katsuki’s face, an expression of his you’d never seen before, crimson eyes glaring down at the technology in front of him.

climbing once more into the car, you relaxed as much as you could into the seat, slipping your heavy boots off your feet with your body thrumming, no way to sit comfortably with the way your pussy throbbed against the seam of your panties, your hips jolting forward whenever you sat a certain way, the slashers bloody ghost mask imprinted behind your eyelids each time you blinked. your cheeks were hot, embarrassed to be so desperate from a movie, but still praying eijirou would rush to save you both to solve katsuki’s problem and let you get home to fix yours.

you squirmed in the seat, your skin hot on the leather while you eyed the dark streets, hope growing in you with every car that drove down the street, only to be crushed when they continued past the cinema. waiting for a moment longer with quivering thighs squeezed together, you finally huffed and opened the passenger door, “katsuki? did he answer?”

a beat went by, nothing responded to you except the soft chirp of crickets nestled in the dark of the greenery sprinkled around.

“katsuki?” you repeated, your voice a bit louder, and still you heard nothing back, the silence interrupted by the vibrating of your phone.

left all alone, sweetheart? 12:41am

you reread the text from the unknown number with your heart in your throat, nervously watching a typing bubble pop up beneath it.

you climbed off the seat warmed by your body to take on the cool night in search for your silent friend, the skin of your thighs erupting in goosebumps the moment your light feet landed on the ground, wrapping tingling arms around your torso, you attempted to rationalise while you watched the bubble disappear. rounding the front of the car, you scanned the space in front of the car, expecting to see the hulking blond standing there, ready to jump out and scare you, instead, the spot was empty, not a trace he’d even been there to begin with.

brave little hero. you’re not the type to run headfirst into danger.12:42am

let’s play a game, see if you can win him back, sweetheart. 12:42am

your breath was knocked from your chest reading the text, your heartbeat deafening when you choked out his name once more, your tone painted with worry.

“i swear to god, if this is a joke i'll make sure no one hears from you ever again.” shivering, and not from the cold, your voice shook, wide eyes not conveying the threatening aura you were trying to achieve, nor your entire trust in this only being a joke.

and if you get an answer wrong i’ll make sure no one finds you. 12:42am

your blood ran cold feeling the phone buzz again, your face still shamefully warm when your cunt throbbed at the threat, fear and need settling in the pit of your stomach. sucking in a breath, you shouted at nothing, “fine!”

you’ll be a good final girl. 12:43am

if you’re smart about it. 12:43am

you crept around the car silently, sticking close by the lifted hood to scan the darkness around you, sneaking around the side to get back inside the car, desperate to get back to safety, wanting to think this through, to be smart about getting katsuki back by your side. seeing no one, you darted for the driver’s side door, tugging on the smooth handle with trembling hands, the lock unlatching only for a moment before being shoved shut once more with a strong, scarred hand planted on the window, causing you to squeal in surprise when the door slammed with a thud.

“wrong move, final girl,” his deep voice whispered in your ear, feeling like it was echoing all around you, his free hand clamping around your hip to keep your weak legs upright. your stalker smiled into your hair, ego swelling at how easily he had you worked up from a few threatening texts, “how wet are you right now?”

katsuki rasped, voice impossibly deeper, his nose bumping your temple when he spoke. heat flushed through your body, embarrassment pooling in your stomach, only adding to the drippiness of your needy pussy.

“what?”

“what?” he mocked, “you think i wouldn’t notice you humpin the fuckin air in there? what was it, sweetheart? the blood, or the fear?”

sharp teeth emphasised his final question, canines catching on your sensitive lobe, his hand tightening around your hip, pinning you hard between his thick chest and tumid car.

“i don't have any idea what youre talking about.” your voice was an uneven, unconvincing murmur, your breath fogging on the window in front of your face, blurring your view of him, bar a sliver of the cherry-red of his irises reflecting back at you. you felt the fervid heat of his eyes on yours as if there wasn’t a single obstacle between you and him, the burn of his gaze dropping down to your lips when you surrendered a shuddering breath.

“you don’t?” you shook your head, barely disturbing the air around you, more shy than you ever had been since knowing him, “that didn’t turn you on at all?”

you shook your head once more, your gaze averting to the ground beneath your feet, suddenly interested in the shine of the lamplight on his boots instead of his interrogating, knowing he already knew the answers to every question he asked you.

his calloused fingertips ran up your plush, pillowy thighs, blunt fingernails digging in at the peak, a mere inch away from your dripping core, “c’mon, final girl, tell the truth, and i’ll stop.”

he got impossibly closer, crowding over you with a thick forearm sliding around your waist, settling in where he remained still, the hairs on the back of your neck standing when you felt his gentle breath there. your hips jerked forward into his biting nails, surely leaving half-moon indent in the soft skin underneath them. you felt his cocky smile in your hair when a low mewl reverberated in your throat, your bitten lips smothering the sound almost imperceptibly, “please, don’t stop.”

katsuki heard you, his ears so attuned to your voice, he’d hear you in a sea of half a million people, loud and clear. still, he let his fingers drop further away from where you needed him, incessant in his teasing, “what was that? “please stop”?”

his hold around you loosened, his boot disappearing from your view when he took a step back, this time it was your fingers digging into the skin of his forearm, pulling him close to you, “no, katsuki, please don’t stop.”

he didn’t need to hear a single word more from you, his cock already straining against his pants hearing your shaky voice beg only twice for him. he cursed again, his fingers gliding over your skin, not going to deny you, or himself, the pleasure of dipping his fingers into your sopping cunt.

a high pitched mewl escaped you when he swiped his thumb over your slit, the soaking fabric still separating you two doing nothing to weaken the pleasure his skilled fingers brought you, enough to have your hips bucking into his hold again. katsuki’s devilish laugh tickles the back of your neck, your eyelids becoming heavy with need filling your veins, adrenaline keeping your heart beating loudly in your ears, and lightning through your body when he finally slips his fingers under the waistband of your panties, hardened fingertips free to touch your core any way he desired. snaking his free hand up your body, katsuki brushed the hair from your neck, letting his hand rest slackly at the base of your throat, leaving the junction where your shoulder met your neck free for him to plant his lips there, sucking your skin into his mouth, bringing your blood as close to the surface of your skin as he could without a buck knife of his own. you crooned, warm body melting into the blond��s touch, stumbling back over your own feet when he slid his hand under your skirt to pull you back a foot by your hip, holding you hard to his chest, a thick, powerful arm holding you upright. your lustful eyes were trained on his hand when it abandoned its hold on your throat, committing every flaw, divot, vein and scar to memory while he yanked the shiny handle, shoving it further out of his way with his shoulder before he let you drop forward again; missing his strength to keep your goo-like legs holding you up, you stumbled forward into the car, catching yourself on the driver's seat with your forearms, a stammer forced from your chest when you landed on your palms. you peer over your shoulder at him with wild, hazy eyes, adjusting yourself up on your hands, his hot hands pushing down on the small of your back to keep you firmly against the leather before you get too comfortable, marvelling at the feel of your hammering heart against the soft seat.

katsuki’s hands at the nape of your neck and the small of your back forced you to arch your back further, your plush ass pressing back into him when he lifted your head a couple of inches off the material by your hair, eliciting a high-pitched gasp from you, “say it again.”

there wasn’t a trace of a request in his tone, it was a simple demand, accentuated by the large hand pressing down harder on your back, contorting your body in an uncomfortable pose you’d be relieved of the second he had your approval once more, your trembling figure entirely in control of him despite his incredible strength holding you down.

“i need you, ‘ki, don’t stop.” your head fell forward, your ass pushed back against his hard cock, your stammer breathless but clear when you spoke, your shining lips parting to moan lowly when he released your hair to tease your core again, deft fingers fucking into you again, deeper than they were before when he was focused on taking your attention from the stupid slasher on the screen inside. now his attention was turned to having your pussy clenching him as soon as possible.

the blond behind you groaned, feeling your tight cunt hug his digits, squeezing like you were trying to swallow him deeper and deeper, mesmerised by the way you took him, your blushing, wanton face already marking the soft material of the seat with your foundation and he wasn’t even close to being done toying with you. you were already soaking after the little he was giving you, the movie and now his teasing ministrations having you dripping, hole clenching in anticipation; unnecessary for him to continue pumping his fingers in and out of you other than for his own lewd entertainment, needing to commit the sight to memory in case it never happened again.

“keep talkin’ to me, final girl, you want me to stop?”

you shook your head, your face buried in the crook of your elbow and your back arching into his touch, a long moan escaping you, getting closer and closer to cumming around his fingers, lewd squelching echoing in the dark night.

“you want me to fuck you like this?”

“mhm!”

“you thinkin’ of me or that pathetic slasher, huh?” katsuki's fingers curled as he whispered, forcing a choked gasp from you, any answer slipping from your mind when his fingertips grazed that sensitive spot inside you, your brain going blank, your vision turning white.

colour returned to your vision far too quickly, your bleary eyes snapping open, staring behind you where katsuki stood tall, one hand still pressing down on your back but no other part of him touching you, his wet fingers at his mouth instead of inside your aching pussy, sucking the two into his mouth, smirking down at your shocked face, one eyebrow raising when your mouth bobbed open and shut noiselessly.

“you’re not gonna be thinking of that pitiful ghostface when i fuck you,” the moonlight shining behind him cast his menacing face in darkness, only his eyes and sharp canines glowing from the shadows when he spoke, voice deep and gravelly with his own desire, unable to deny himself your sweet cunt any longer. his dexterous fingers working the shining steel button on his pants undone while you beam up at him, entranced by his bared teeth, narrow scarlet eyes watching you, blond locks hanging over his face when his stare shifted down, lining himself up with your sloppy hole, “you’re gonna be thinking. of. me.”

he sunk into you, word by demanding word, inch by salacious inch, until your eyes were rolling back into your skull, cock moulding your throbbing, silken cunt to the shape of him. 

“katsukiiiii,” you panted, earning a sharp snap of his hips bumping your forward in the car across the seat, your soft sweater doing nothing but glide against the material, digging your fingernails into the soft leather, you tried to hold yourself still, an impossible feat against the strength of his movements.

katsuki’s hot hands seized your hips, pulling you back in time with him thrusting forward, his hips pressing into your squishy thighs hard enough to leave a dark bruise before he was pulling back out to fuck you hard again, his dominance making your pussy squeeze tighter around him, leaving you to helplessly cry out broken stammers of his name beneath him until your voice broke, your breathing growing faster, harder, with his movements, “oh-h, ka-katsuki, ‘m close.”

your slurring words had him fucking ever harder into you, helping you chase the orgasm you’d been desperate for since the second act, shifting your hips to have the head of his cock brushing the spongy spot deep inside your pretty cunt, hitting it again and again until you were squealing, creamy cum gushing out of you to collect around the base of his thick cock in a lewd ring. despite your spasming pussy, katsuki’s vice-like grip didn’t loosen, virile fingers splayed over your shaking hips, pulling them up to keep his pace, dragging his veiny cock in and out of you, watching your cum gather and drip down him to the ground below.

his cock felt like it was in your throat, every thrust forcing out garbled moans into the night air, even a deep sigh escaping the blond above you when your thighs twitched and trembled again. katsuki slid a hand up your spine from your hip, pushing your face back down with a strong grip on the back of your skull, leaning forward to grind deeper inside you, revelling in your muffled whine, watching the way your eyes widened before rolling back again, “you’re gonna cum again?”

katsuki’s mocking tone was uneven, tinged with his own impending end, but you still heard the cocky smile in his voice, his ego ever ballooning at the ease he worked you up, revelling in the warm squeeze of your thirsty cunt around his cock, more and more wetness dripping from you to collect around him. still, you nodded, too delirious to even try and deny the effect he had on you, your tense thighs and delirium only inflating his ego more.

“who makes you feel like this, huh?” his voice was a hoarse whisper now, thick eyebrows scrunching when you squeeze around him again, just from his voice and the stretch of his cock.

“you! you do, katsuki!” you choke out his name once more, your voice still muffled against the seat, his hand at the small of your back doing little to stop you standing on the very tip of your toes to swallow his cock deeper until he matched you with his own stammer of your name, pushing your head down harder as he stood up again, fucking rougher into you, faster, abusing your hole to get to his own end with you.

repeating his name like a mantra, your whole body tensed under him like you’d been shocked, a long whine of his name when you came intensely around him again, your high pitched keen making him follow suit, holding you firm against him, emptying himself into you, thrusting shallowly twice more to fuck his cum deep into you before he laid atop you with a low groan of his own.

you whimpered underneath him, your cunt still tight around him while you both started to calm, heart rates returning to normal, sweating skin cooling rapidly in the night air. you both laid still for a moment, bodies relaxing into the leather like you were in a liquid state, a soft whimper escaping you every so often as the last waves of your orgasm washed over you; similarly, katsuki remained still, gently releasing his grip on the back of your head to hold himself up above you before gingerly standing back up behind you, slowly pulling out of you with a soft wince at the sensitivity, glancing back up to study your face when you shivered at the loss of his warm body.

he leans over you to twist his keys in the ignition, the car starting with a low rumble, air blowing from the vents quickly warming both you and the car. you gawk up at him, stars still in your eyes when you connect the dots, “your car’s been fine the whole time?!”

he slides your soaking wet panties back up your thighs, snapping the waistband against your skin once they sat comfortably on your hips again,“obviously, the final girl’s supposed to notice that.” 

“the final girl was a bit preoccupied.” you glare, gasping again when his fingers loosely loops around your throat to pull you up to stand in front of him again, lust dripping from his near-silent voice, “well, it’s just your luck the final girl owes me a favour…wanna see if you’ll survive the sequel?"

© all works belong to @a-ikuoliver, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[holly-the-trash-writer]

Guilt

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Y/n lies unconscious in a hospital bed while Spencer drowns in guilt. You had felt that Spencer was cheating on you with Maeve and were going to stay with someone else before you got shot. Finding this out causes Spencer to snap and lash out at one of his closest friends.

Part 2

Word Count: 2,866

A/N: This has been a WIP for years! It was apart of a series with my own OC but I decided to change it to a Reader fic. The amount of WIPs I have is ridiculous!!!!!

Spencer sat at Y/n's hospital bed in silence. Tears were continuously streaming down his face, his breaths were shaky and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from your unmoving face. 

There was a tube coming out of your mouth to help your breathing. So many different wires were coming out of your body and attached to multiple beeping machines. 

He was holding your right hand in both of his, your skin wasn’t freezing cold but it was colder than he prefers it to be. 

You had only came out of surgery half an hour ago but they won’t know if it was successful until you wake up. Which could be between the next few seconds and never.  

Never was something Spencer was trying his hardest not to think about. 

There was so much he needed to tell you. So many things he had to say. 

The last time you were together you had fought. You told him that he’s been speaking to Maeve too much and that he's been ignoring you. Spending more time with this woman. 

Spencer had told you that you were being ridiculous and then you had to go on a case and Spencer never got the chance to talk anymore about it. 

You had been furious at him and now Spencer was angry at himself as well. 

He had called you ridiculous for coming to him about your feelings. This resulted in you refusing to be his partner in the field. Which led to you going with Morgan. Which ended in you getting shot. 

This is when Spencer’s brain began connecting things that didn’t match up. 

If he had listened to you he could’ve gotten you out of harm’s way. 

Not speaking to Maeve meant you wouldn’t have fought and you never would’ve been shot. 

He was supposed to protect you. 

It should be him lying there. Not his sweet girl. 

There was a knock on the door and Spencer barely reacted as Garcia and Emily came in. 

“Hey, how is she doin’?” Emily asked softly. 

Spencer turned his head a little towards them, “She... uh.” His voice cracked and he cleared it before trying again, “They said everything went well but we won’t know the damage until she wakes up.” 

Garcia's eyes watered as she stared at your body. “When will she wake up?” 

Spencer's eyes filled with tears, a sad smile forming as he squeezed your hand, “When she’s ready.” 

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he took it out to see that it was Maeve. 

Again.  

Along with the twenty missed calls from Maeve.  

He rubbed his eyes before pressing answer, “Spencer Reid.” 

“Oh my God. Spencer, I’ve been trying to reach you all day. Are you alright?” 

This statement didn’t sit well in his stomach.  

If you miss an appointment with your doctor, they don’t leave twenty missed calls on your phone.  

They wait for you to reschedule. 

He glanced at the other two women who were trying their best not to listen in. Although Garcia was looking particularly peeved about something.  

Then he glanced down at you and any words he was going to say to Maeve turned to ash in his mouth. He felt sick.  

Now he understood what you meant. 

“Now, isn’t a good time. I’ll call you next week.” He didn’t wait for a response before he ended the call and put the phone back in his pocket. 

Garcia shifted uncomfortably, “Was... was that her?” 

“Who?” Spencer’s brain wasn’t even functioning at 20%. He couldn’t think things through clearly. 

“Doctor Maeve.” Garcia mocked. 

Spencer frowned, “Yes. Why?” 

Emily gave Penelope a pointed look. 

A look that did not go unnoticed by Spencer, “What? What is it?” 

Emily put her hands up in a calming gesture, as if trying to approach a cornered animal. “Spencer. You must understand, we don’t mean to pry but Y/n spoke to Morgan and he didn’t know what to do so he told Garcia, who told me.” 

Spencer rubbed his eyes for the fourth time in ten minutes, he did not have the energy for this, “Told you what? What are you talking about?” Spencer was getting agitated now. Why can’t they just tell him? He hated not getting to the point. 

“Well, Y/n came to Morgan two weeks ago and was quite upset.” 

Spencer frowned as he looked at you again. Two weeks ago? You didn’t seem upset two weeks ago. 

“She had some concerns about this doctor that you’ve been speaking to.” Emily explained. 

Garcia huffed, “She told Derek that she had suspicions that you were cheating on her.” She spoke with daggers in her eyes. 

Spencer froze.  

What?!  

He stiffened in his seat as he stared at his unconscious fiancé in shock.  

You thought he was cheating on you?  

You might never wake up again and your last thoughts of him would be the fight and thoughts of his, supposed, adultery.  

How?! How could you think that he could even look at anyone that wasn’t you? 

“I. Would. Never.” He punctuated every damn word so they got his point, trying to blink away the fresh batch of tears that filled his eyes. 

“She planned to stay with Morgan and Savannah for a couple of days-" Garcia told him. 

Spencer tore his eyes away from the bed to gawk at Garcia, “She what?” 

Emily placed her hand on Garcia’s arm and spoke next, “Yesterday, Derek had... overheard one of your conversations with the doctor and he spoke to Y/n about it. So, she decided she would go and stay with him for a few days to sort out her head before coming to you about it.” 

Spencer was furious. Not only did you think he was cheating on you, half of the team now suspected him of it too and no one even had the decency to ask him. And what was this phone call that was so damning that Derek had to run and tell his fiancé? Why didn’t Derek just ask him instead of almost ruining his relationship without him even knowing about it! 

Spencer was shaking with rage. He stood abruptly from his chair and turned to the girls, pointing to Y/n’s bed he ordered out, “Stay with her.” before he stormed outside to head to the waiting room. 

He saw red. He couldn’t think of anything except for the anger he felt. 

Quickly turning the corner he saw the rest of the team sitting and talking as if nothing was wrong. 

J.J noticed him first and stood up, Hotch, Rossi and Morgan following suit. 

“Spence, any news?” she asked gently. 

Spencer didn’t even hear her; never slowed his pace either. As soon as Morgan was within arm’s reach he clenched his fist until his knuckles turned white and swung as hard as he could.  

His fist made connection with Morgan’s cheek and from the shock of Spencer’s actions it knocked Morgan off kilter. Morgan stumbled and placed his hand to his cheek. 

The punch clearly did more harm to Spencer than Morgan, but he didn’t care. The pain in his hand was welcomed. It cut through the hurt that was clutched around his heart. 

The others cried out in shock as they tried to digest what just happened. 

“What the hell, kid?!” Morgan yelled at him. 

“’What the hell’ is right!” Spencer growled back as he stepped up to the other man and pushed his shoulders, “Sneaking behind my back? Telling my fiancé that I had some secret affair because of some phone call you didn’t hear the entirety of!” 

Spencer was seething, the rest of the team gaping at him never having seen him so furious before, “You could’ve just asked! But no, the whole team had to get involved. And now I hear she was planning on living with you for a few days?!” Spencer clenched his possibly broken fist again. “She’s in a coma and may never wake up again and her last thoughts of me will be the thought that I was getting with someone else.” 

Spencer inhaled sharply as his rage at Morgan turned to rage at himself. 

“Spencer!” J.J shouted, “Stop!” 

His sharp inhales quickly turned to hyperventilation, his brain was in overdrive, a million thoughts and memories were spinning around his head and he just wanted it to stop. 

So he stopped it the only way he knew how.  

Instead of hitting Morgan, Spencer turned at the last second and hit the wall. 

He fell to his knees and cried as he hit the wall again and again and again and again. 

Blood smeared across the white wall as he broke the skin on the knuckles. The physical pain overrode his senses and he chased the feeling. 

That was until Hotch grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him away from the wall causing Spencer to lose his balance and fall back into Hotch's arms which quickly locked around him. 

“Stop! Get off of me! Hotch, let go!” Spencer squirmed as he tried to fight against his boss. His back was pressed tightly against Hotch’s chest, his legs bent in front of him and he kept slapping at Hotch’s arms to let go. 

Hotch just shushed him and held him tighter. Completely understanding his anger. He’s been there and the best thing for Spencer is to calm down enough so he can go back and sit with Y/n instead of giving in to his anger and doing something else that he will regret. 

Once Spencer figured out that he wasn’t going anywhere the fight drained out of him and he stopped slapping at the arms circled around him.  

While Spencer was hunched over Hotch gave the rest of the team a nod to clear the area and give the two some space. 

Hotch pulled one Spencer’s shoulders to shift his position so that Spencer curled into his chest. 

Once Hotch placed a comforting hand over Spencer’s head a sob broke past his lips and the entire dam broke. Spencer cried his heart out.  

He could barely breathe, inhaling only made him choke on his sobs and made him feel worse. 

“What if I never get to speak to her again?” he whispered between sobs. “Never get to tell her that she’s the only one for me.” 

“Spencer you need to breathe.” Hotch told him gently, “You need to calm down. Breathe with me.” 

Spencer felt Hotch’s chest rising and falling against him. He closed his eyes and tried to follow his boss’ actions. 

After a moment, Spencer was finally able to take a deep breath. The oxygen flooded his brain and the fog cleared. His entire body shivered before he came to his senses. 

Blinking hard he realised he was curled into Hotch’s chest, cocooned in his arms.  

He shouldn’t be here.  

He was sitting on the hospital floor instead of in with Y/n. He slowly sat up and Hotch let his arms fall from around him. 

“You alright?” 

Spencer wiped his left hand over his face, “Fine. Fine. Yeah. I need to uh, I need to go to Y/n.” 

He put his right hand behind him to support his weight, but an agonising pain shot through his hand and he fell onto his elbow with a grunt. 

“Here, let me see.” Hotch knelt over him and held out his hand. 

Spencer shook his head and used his other hand to support his weight as he got off the floor, dusting himself off as best he could, “I’m fine.” He held his right arm close to him as he stood up straight.  

He looked around and noticed that J.J, Rossi and Morgan are nowhere to be seen… which is probably for the best. 

The shame of what he’s done washed over him like a bucket of ice water. He just punched his best friend in front of his team then proceeded to have a break down in his boss’ arms. 

“Spencer.” Hotch called out. “You’re not fine, let me see your hand.” 

Spencer shook his head and walked out of the waiting room without saying anything. 

Stopping just outside Y/n’s room he looked in the window, you hadn’t moved a muscle.  

Emily was sat by your bedside holding your hand. 

The pain of the possibility of losing her was too much for him. His only relief was the slow rise and fall of your chest.  

His eyes were already puffy and sore, and he felt dehydrated. He sighed as he raised his left hand to wipe the tears away, cursing himself for his behaviour. 

“Spencer.” Hotch stood at his side, “You need to get your hand looked at, and I’m sure the nurse wouldn’t mind doing it by Y/n’s bedside.” He knew Spencer probably doesn’t want his hand looked at for at least three reasons; he doesn’t want to leave Y/n’s side for much longer, he feels embarrassed or shameful or he feels the need to punish himself. 

He agreed as long as he can stay beside Y/n, “Okay.” He opened the door and the bleeps of the machine’s filled his ears.  

That was your heartbeat.  

He lowered himself into the chair at your right side and raised his left hand to hold hers. His right hand was tucked into his chest. The throbbing was excruciating but he welcomed it. 

He pointedly avoided Emily’s worried expression before she smiled at him and left the room without word. 

A nurse came bustling into the room a few moments later with a tray of equipment, clearly fetched by Hotch. She stood next to him and Spencer raised his hand to let her do what she needed to do. Hissing as she cleaned the cuts on his knuckles. 

The nurse didn’t mind his silence and talked calmly to him as she worked, “You did quite the number on your hand.” She wiped away the blood and inspected his fingers, “You’ve definitely broken a few knuckles, I’m going to wrap your fingers in a splint and then bandage you up, okay?” 

Spencer nodded, “Okay.” He said quietly. 

She taped his middle and ring finger together and then bandaged his entire hand down to his wrist. “Now, keep this on for the next two weeks and then come back in so we can give you an x-ray and review the damage.” 

Spencer nodded, “Thank you.” 

The nurse left and Spencer was alone with Y/n once more. He stared at his right hand that was now resting on the bed.  

How could he do this? Throw a tantrum while the love of his life lies in bed fighting for her life. 

He leaned forward to rest his arms on the bed. 

“Hi.” His voice shook, and he cleared his throat. He hasn’t been this nervous to talk to you since you first met. “You always told me that I needed to talk more, but I- I have no words for what I’ve done. I’ve done something terrible. Actually, I’ve done a few terrible things.” The tears formed once more, and his head pounded from the pressure. “I may never get the chance to say this to you but I am so, so, sorry. I made you feel that you weren’t special to me anymore, that I don’t love you which is the furthest thing from the truth.” 

Spencer played with a strand of your hair that was laying on your shoulder. 

“How could I ever be with someone else? No one could ever, ever take your place in my heart.” 

He gently lifted your hand in both of his, his head felt heavy, so he bent over and placed his forehead on the back of her hand. “I love you more than anything in this world. When you wake up I’m going to spend every second of the rest of my life making it up to you. And I know you wouldn’t want to miss that. So, please wake up. Please.” 

He had been talking when it happened so he never heard it. 

You weren’t breathing in the same rhythm as before. 

When he finally noticed, he frowned as he looked you over. He slowly got to his feet as he scanned the machines. Right before his eyes some of the numbers began to climb as others started to fall. 

Spencer scrambled past the chair and ripped open the door to your room, “Doctor! I need a doctor here now!” He yelled out before running back to your side, “Y/n, sweetheart if you can hear me; don’t give up. Please.” 

Two doctors and a nurse sprinted into the room. 

“Sir, sir!” The nurse grabbed Spencer’s shoulder, “We need you to leave.” 

Spencer shook his head frantically, trying to keep up with everything that the doctors were saying to each other, “I can’t.” he whispered to himself. 

“Sir! Please!” The nurse pushed at Spencer’s shoulders until he was outside the room and the door was shut in his face. 

The rest of the team had heard the commotion and had run to the room as well. 

Rossi placed his hand on Spencer’s shoulder as the entire team watched the doctors place paddles on your chest and shock you. 

Again. 

And again. 

And again. 

[thestarsofpines]

a little wip of a combination of prompts and AUs I've seen that I just had to give my own take on.

Damian was bored. He’d followed Father around for most of the night, listening absentmindedly to the trivial blabbering of rich socialites that tried to suck up to the prince of Gotham. He could only handle it for so long, patience quickly running out as a few shoved their own children his way, perhaps hoping the young heir would make a friend and create easier access to the Wayne wealth. Pitiful. 

The young teen stood off to the side of a polished dance floor that had couples mingling and swaying to the soft classical music playing. He’d picked up a drink and was sipping at it slowly, just to have something to do with his hands. He itched for something to do that wasn’t making small, meaningless talk.

He hears footsteps approaching, perhaps a bit heavier than intended, as if it was a warning for someone that they were approaching.

“Little Badger, we talked about this in great detail earlier, you are not to leave my sight-“

Just as a man moves to place a hand on Damian’s shoulder, the teen turns around and glares at the man. He takes in the details of the man quickly; older, likely mid forties if not older, gray hair pulled back into a low ponytail, vibrant blue eyes that at first are narrowed at him in perhaps annoyance before they turn wide with shock. The man recovers quickly, expression turning apologetic as he steps back.

“Oh-my most sincere apologies, I thought you were someone else!” He breathes out, and his expression shifts again to one of slight surprise as he takes in more of Damian’s features from the front. “My, you two do look quite alike.” He says easily, hand coming back to rest beside him before he places both his hands behind his back. “I do apologize again, young sir…?”

Bruce spots this interaction, politely ends the conversation he was in, and makes his way over to investigate. 

“Damian Wayne, my son.” Bruce slides up to the pair, standing easily at Damian’s right. “Vlad Masters, yes?”

Said man’s eyes widen ever so slightly at the easy recognition and at the fact that he could’ve accidentally torn into such an influential young man as he’d been planning to do to whoever he was looking for, but he recovers quickly again.

“Yes, I was just apologizing to your boy here, Mr. Wayne. It seems he has quite a lot of physical similarities to my godson.”

Damian remains silent, but nods in the direction of the billionaire. Something isn’t sitting right with him about Masters, but he can’t put it into words. He’ll allow Father to handle the situation, for the moment. 

“Oh? Why, that is quite interesting.” Bruce smiles, open and disarming. He places a hand on Damian’s shoulder, and gives a subtle squeeze. “What’s the young man’s name?”

“Daniel,” And the grip tightens ever so slightly. “He is the son of some old family friends who unfortunately cannot take care of him anymore, so I’ve become his legal guardian in their stead.”

“How kind, opening your house to a youth in need.” Bruce continues, pushing for more information. “From experience I know how hard that can be. Raising a teenager is no cakewalk that’s for sure.”

“Oh yes, I do recall hearing of your experiences with adoption; you’re up to four adoptions now, yes?” There’s a hint of something in Vlad’s eyes, likely aware of the information seeking nature of this conversation but unconcerned by it. Intriguing. “I can hardly claim to have such kindness, one fifteen year old is enough for me.”

Damian has to physically restrain his face from reacting. Perhaps this is another cloning situation. Perhaps this Vlad Masters should be higher on the priority list of people to investigate closely. 

“Oh, well I do believe I have taken up enough of your time, Mr. Wayne. I really must get looking for Daniel, as we do intend to leave soon.” Vlad holds out a hand to the two, smiling confidently. “It was a pleasure to meet you both.” 

Bruce takes it and shakes it politely; Damian’s following is more forced in its gentleness. Vlad Masters unsettles him and it is driving him mad that he cannot pinpoint why. 

“Enjoy the rest of the gala, Vlad Masters. Perhaps our paths will cross again soon.”

[all-about-kyu]

Summary: Just as you get back on your feet after a nasty breakup, you see your ex out in public with his new girlfriend. What will you do to avoid an awkward encounter? Pairing: Jongho x fem!reader Tropes: strangers to lovers, fake dating au,  Genre: fluff, angst Rating: PG Warnings: mentions of breakups, mentions of cheating, language, a brief moment of nudity (for changing), kissing  Word Count: 5,496 Note: for @cultofdionysusnet Mocha Madness event! Thank you to @anyamaris and @sanjoongie for beta reading this and listening to my panic!! This has been a WIP for over 2 years now so FINALLY it's released!

Before You Interact

Prompt: You sit at the table with a random boy you see sitting at a cafe or something alone and say, “Kiss me,” and he replies, “Hi, nice to meet you too. My name is ___,” and then you explain that your ex is right there with the side piece he cheated on you with and this boy agrees ‘cause you to seem really serious about this. Ex approaches and starts questioning you, but somehow, this random guy gets him off your back. You start hanging out, faking a relationship in front of your ex whenever you see him, but the actual feelings develop. - given by @jaehunnyy

You had finally gotten back to going out after your ex left you. It had been a few months, but it took a while to get back in the swing of things with how that breakup went. You had gone to your boyfriend’s apartment to surprise him and found another girl in his lap kissing him. He was so shameless about it, too. He tried to introduce you to her and have you be friends. You push the memory out of your head as you walk down the sidewalk, it’s a beautiful day, and you were going to take advantage of it. You were walking along one of your town’s major routes lined with little cafes, restaurants, and stores. You enjoy the spring breeze and sunshine on your skin, breathing in the sweet smell of blooming flowers. You finally felt ready to face the world head-on and return to a routine. That’s when you saw them: your ex and his new girlfriend. You feel your heart race and suddenly sit in front of a random young man in one of the cafe’s outdoor seating areas.

“Kiss me.” you tell him.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you too! My name is Jongho.” he says with a sarcastic smile.

You sigh, “Please, my ex is walking this way. He’s with his new girlfriend, the side piece he cheated on me with. I don’t want to deal with the confrontation. I’ll pay for your food. Please kiss me, and I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

He gives you a confused look at first, then leans forward, inches from your lips, “That all depends on how good of a kisser you are.” he whispers.

Suddenly, his lips are on yours, and you nearly melt onto the cement beneath you. You had no idea what to expect from him, so when you feel his soft, pillowy lips against yours, you can’t help but lose your breath. His right hand holds your face gently. They’re slightly calloused but not enough to annoy you. When you pull back, you hear your name called by the last person you want to hear say it.

“Just follow my lead,” you whisper to Jongho, “Hi, Wooyoung!” you fake a smile, “How have you been?” “Pretty good. It’s been a few months now, hasn’t it?”

“Mhm.” you reply with a tight-lipped smile, “Oh, this is Jongho, my boyfriend.”

He holds one of your hands across the table, seeing as how you introduced him. His other hand reached out to shake Wooyoung’s hand. Then, releasing his new girlfriend’s hand, he shakes hands with who he assumes is your new boyfriend.

“It’s nice to meet you. This is my girlfriend, Miyeon.” he smiles brightly, looking back at her.

“It’s nice to meet you.” she sweetly greets you, “Wooyoung has told me a lot about you.”

You cannot help but feel slightly attacked by how she makes her latter comment. She knew much more about you than she would admit in front of your “boyfriend”. She had been a side piece for six months before you found out. She was lying through her teeth, and she and Wooyoung knew it. You subconsciously squeeze Jongho’s hand, and he immediately notices your slight discomfort. He squeezes your hand back, and only then do you notice that you’re squeezing his. He gives you a reassuring smile, and you suddenly feel comfortable with him, as if you’ve known each other for years. 

“I hate to cut this short, but we’re in the middle of a date here.” Jongho smiles fakely.

Wooyoung looks taken aback a bit but smiles back, fakely, “Sorry, how about a double date sometime though? You comfortable with that, Miyeon?” she smiles and nods at him, “You too?” he questions you. 

When you don’t respond, Jongho tries to gain your attention, “Sweetheart, you okay?”

“Y-yeah.” you stutter, “Sounds lovely. When were you thinking?”

“We were going to have an at-home date later this week. You two want to crash that?” “You okay with that, baby?” Jongho questions you this time, and you nearly melt hearing his low voice calling you that. “Yeah, same address?” “Same address. I’ll text you the details. You have the same number, right?” Wooyoung confirms, with Miyeon clung to his arm much tighter than before.

“Same number… I’ll just have to unblock you first.” you say with a subtle bite.

“See you later then.” he smiles awkwardly.

The moment they walk far enough away, you let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Then, hearing Jongho call your name throws you off. You look back at him and see his worried look. His thumb runs over the back of your hand across your knuckles, letting you take your time to process what just happened. Then, when you fully come back to your senses, you nearly panic.

“Oh my god, Jongho, I’m so sorry! I was just trying to get him to leave me alone, but now you got dragged into another thing with me, a complete stranger.” you ramble.

“Hey hey hey, it’s okay, let’s just take this time now to get to know each other, and then I don’t mind being your fake boyfriend around them. You seem fun.” he smiles softly.

“What’s in it for you?” you ask skeptically.

“I could use some excitement in my life.” He shrugs, “My friend has been trying to get me to go on blind dates nonstop for like a month, too.”

You end up agreeing to his deal. You two stay there and get to know each other for a few hours. You find out he’s currently in university, majoring in early childhood education and minoring in music. He also works part-time at the little hole-in-the-wall book store downtown when he doesn’t have classes. As you continue to talk, you forget about the passing of time. You’re genuinely having a good time with him. It isn’t until a random storm comes rolling that you process how long you’ve been sitting at the cafe. You sit there in shock for a few seconds, just looking at each other until the rain gets heavier. You have a silent conversation then, running into the building, you find yourself at the front counter.

“Oh, let me pay for your food and coffee. I owe you at least that.” you offer.

He smiles at you, and you nearly melt with his gorgeous looks. You knew he was attractive when you sat down in front of him for the first time (you lucked out there), but now, seeing him with a bright smile and hair wet from the rain, your breath gets stolen from your lungs. Your mind returns to just how nice his kiss felt. You can’t help but wish you could feel it again. Of course, it likely won’t happen again, but you can dream.

“Don’t worry about it. I enjoyed spending time with you.” he smiles softly.

“Jongho, I roped you in pretending to be my boyfriend, lying to my ex and his new girlfriend, and kissing a stranger-”

He interrupted you, “And I don’t mind paying for my food. You made up for all that and more by spending time with me.”

You huff, slightly annoyed he wouldn’t let you at least pay for the items as an apology. He chuckles at your reaction before walking to the counter to pay. While you wait, you notice how the rain only got heavier. You had walked here. There was no way it would ease up anytime soon. You seemed to be stuck here for a while now. Finally, you’re dragged out of your thoughts when someone nudges you. Looking over, you see Jongho. He looks at you, out the door at the rain, and back to you again.

“Do you live far away?”

“No, but I walked here, and it takes about 20 minutes to walk here on a light foot traffic day.”

“Do you want to stay at mine for a little bit?” he offers.

“What?”

“Just until the rain stops. I can drive you home after, too. I just live down the street.”

You think for a minute, just looking at him, “How do I know you’re not a creep or murderer?” you say, teasing slightly.

He just chuckles and comments how you were the one who kissed him first. Ultimately, you end up nodding, accepting his offer. You both look outside at the rain and then at each other. There were no words exchanged between you, but somehow you both knew. He took your hand and pulled you out of the cafe into the heavy rain outside. You don’t stop to think or let go of his hand. If anything, you’re enjoying the spontaneity of it all. You feel relatively safe with him despite only meeting a few hours ago. The rain beats down on your skin, and your hair sticks to your body, but you couldn’t care less. Before you realize it, you’re being pulled into an apartment complex. Running inside and upstairs, you laugh in the hallway, dripping wet.

“Oh? Who’s this Jongho?” You hear an elderly woman’s voice.

“Hello, Mrs. Kang, just a guest.” He says offhandedly, smiling at her.

She lets out a slight hum, noticing how Jongho is fumbling with his keys, “Just keep it down.” She teases.

“Mrs. Kang,” he awkwardly chuckles, “it’s not like that. I’m just being kind and letting her stay out of the rain until it settles down.”

The older woman hums as if to suggest something else. Jongho shakes his head, looking down at his feet. Unlocking his front door, he allows you to walk in before him. You feel homey and comfortable in the atmosphere when you step in. The second thing you note is that a large Saint Bernard is fast asleep on the couch. You don’t dare take another step in due to how soaking wet you still are. Jongho steps in just behind you, pulling the door shut. He softly chuckles, seeing the dog and how he snores, still deep in sleep.

“Bear,” he calls sweetly.

The dog slowly blinks awake, its tail flopping loudly and happily against the cushion. It stands up on the couch and stretches before hopping down and trotting over to you both. The dog takes his time but sits down directly on Jongho’s feet when he gets to where you are.

“Hi, boy, you do okay with this rain?” he asks the large canine, petting him, “This is Bear. I know not everyone is a dog fan, but he’s a sweet baby who just wants love.” he explains to you.

You nod and let the large dog sniff your hand and get to know you. Almost immediately, he lowers his head as if asking to be petted. You hear Jongho hum again a split second later, almost in surprise.

“He’s normally timid. I’m surprised he’s already letting you pet him.” he explains, “Oh, um, do you want something else to wear? I’m sure soaking wet clothing can’t be comfortable.”

“I don’t want to impose.” You shyly respond.

He shakes his head at you, “It’s no big deal. Come with me. I’ll show you where the bathroom is and get something for you to wear instead.”

You nod, accepting his kind gesture. He motions for you to follow him down the hallway. Bear following not far behind him, happily trotting. You take note of the various pictures hanging on the wall. One, in particular, catches your eye: a group of guys around your age. All of them are smiling brightly, sitting in an outdoor seeing area. You quickly pick out the man, slowly becoming less of a stranger. The others, though, you make a mental note to ask about later.

“Bathroom’s right there,” his deep voice pulls you from your thoughts, “I’ll be right back with some clothes. I hope you don’t mind me giving you some of mine. I don’t have anything else.”

“T-that’s fine,” you offer with a slight smile, “I’ll need to get used to it eventually if Wooyoung keeps insisting that we do double dates with him.” you add as he starts walking further down the hall.

“You think he’ll do that?” he calls back.

“I dated him for three years. He likes double or group dates much better than one-on-one dates.��

You hear his footsteps grow closer again (and Bear’s nails clicking against the hardwood with him), and not much longer, he’s standing right in front of you. His wet, tussled hair makes you gulp and finally process just how stunning the man in front of you is. Then, you just look at him for a few moments, neither of you saying a thing.

“Um, I put a pair of boxers in there, just in case you wanted something under the sweats.” he notes, avoiding eye contact, “You don’t have to take them. Just leave them in here. I can wash your rained-on clothes, though. It would be rude of me not to offer that.”

“Oh, thank you.” you respond, an awkward chuckle raising your tone.

You close the door, clothes, and towel in hand. At the bottom, there lay the aforementioned black sweatpants and boxers; on the top was an oversized graphic t-shirt. You smile contently without realizing it. It was a kind gesture for him to offer you clothing. For him to provide clothes that you would be comfortable in was even more caring. Perhaps fake dating this man wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

As you slowly peel off your sopping-wet clothing, your mind wanders. At first, it was just about how things between you and Wooyoung went and what you wanted to do differently about the entire encounter. Then, your brain wholly shifted tracks. Jongho was at the forefront of your mind about making up this elaborate scheme to convince your ex and his girlfriend. He vaguely mentioned stopping his friend from trying to get him to go on blind dates, too. That could add a whole new layer of complexity. When you step back and actually think about it, it sounds a little insane. You just kissed a man you didn’t even know, and now he’s pretending to be your boyfriend willingly. Your mind continues wandering down that path as you dry off your body and hair with the towel he provided you.

Then you freeze, looking over at the pile of clothing, and see the boxers he had referenced. Now, the internal debate starts. It would be weird to wear his boxers for multiple reasons, but at the same time, wearing his sweatpants without them would also be weird in various ways. In this case, you had to decide which was the lesser of the two evils. After a few minutes of standing there, fully nude, in a stranger’s bathroom, you finally decided to wear and deal with the item. After fully dressing, you look at yourself in the mirror momentarily. It’s odd; you haven’t worn anyone else’s clothing since your breakup with Wooyoung. Your hair is still damp from the rain; a towel can only do so much. You lack a bra, but at the moment, you couldn’t really be bothered with that. The shirt he gave you was large enough to conceal everything for the most part. Just as you open the door, you find Jongho standing directly before you, also now in dry clothing. Of course, Bear was by his side, happily panting and wanting attention.

“Oh, sorry,” he speaks choppily, “you were just in there for a little while. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You smile gently, “Yeah, I’m good. Where do you want me to put the wet clothes?”

“Follow me. You can give me the clothes. I’ll put them in the washer for you.” he offers.

You hand him the pile of clothes you had just picked up and follow him as he travels further down the hallway. Finally, he stops in front of a small closet and reveals the washer and dryer stacked inside it. He double-checks with you to ensure that nothing needs to be washed a certain way before he promptly starts the load of laundry and turns to face you again.

For the second time today, you’re absolutely amazed by this man slowly becoming less of a stranger. His hair is still slightly damp and hangs in his face. He looks comfortable in casual house clothing. Seeing him more in his element than at the cafe is nice. It feels like an eternity that you’re just standing there taking in his beauty. In reality, though, you know it’s a mere few moments. You don’t get broken from your gaze until a large dog jumps on you, demanding to be petted. He nearly tackles you to the ground before you can process what’s happening. You hear Jongho make a panicked noise before lifting Bear off you.

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into him today. He’s never clingy with anyone but me.” he sighs before reaching a hand out to help you up.

“It’s okay,” you smile, taking his hand, “I’m happy to know he’s friendly.”

“He definitely is,” he chuckles, “did you want a blanket? We can warm up in the living room and figure out everything regarding our story.”

You hum in response, just realizing that you are actually quite chilly. Jongho disappears into what you quickly notice to be his room and grabs a few throw blankets he had tucked into an armoire. The moment he steps out, he hands you one of the blankets and guides the way back to the couches in the living room. He lets you have the first choice of seating with a quick apology about the dog hair. Once you’re both comfortable, Jongho lets out a light sigh. You give him a puzzled look, and he’s ready to explain once he catches your drift.

“It’s nice to have someone other than Yunho, Mingi, or Yeosang here.” he explains, “It’s been a while since I’ve had someone over that’s not them. This wasn’t by choice, but I wanted to say it is nice to have your company.”

“Thank you,” you mutter out, “Are they the other three guys in those pictures?”

“The ones in the hallway? Yeah, we’ve all been friends since we were young. All of my life, essentially. They’ve gotten me through some really rough times.” He cleared his throat, realizing he was getting too deep too quick, “I guess it would be smart to figure out our story now.”

“Well,” you start, “Wooyoung and I didn’t break up long ago. It was only in February that I found out about Miyeon. So, do you wanna say we started dating in April? Like two months ago?”

“Damn, two months, and you’re already stealing all my clothes.” he jokes lightly, “Yeah, that sounds good to me. How about where and when we met?” “The bookstore you work at?” “Nah, Mingi would flip and blow our cover if we claimed that. He works there too.” he glances over and notices you’re still shivering slightly in your blanket, “Here,” he offers, opening up the blanket around him, “Come sit with me. You’ll warm up quicker.”

At first, you think about declining his offer, but the chills that run through your body urge you to accept. You nod, sliding across the couch to get wrapped up in his arms. You haven’t cuddled with anyone for any reason since before your breakup with Wooyoung. Feeling the warmth of his body against yours underneath this fluffy throw blanket sends butterflies through your stomach that you will away.

“I guess we’ll have to adjust to physical affection, too. I mean, only if you want that, though. I know Wooyoung wasn’t really big on PDA. I guess he is with Miyeon, but with me-”

“Hey, hey, you’re rambling,” he teases, “we can go over all those details as they come up in conversation. Now, about where we met.”

“The cafe we met at today? It’s the truth, just bent a little.”

“I like that idea.” he hums, “Blind date?”

“Seems boring,” you joke, “let’s at least make it interesting if we’re gonna make it up.”

“Hmm,” he ponders, “how about we meet at that cafe? I just saw a pretty girl and decided to pay for her coffee. That’s overly sweet, of course.”

You can’t tell if he’s flirting or just making up the story, but how he said it made your heart flip in your chest. Only now do you realize just how intimate this situation really is. You don’t know what cologne he uses, but the scent entirely surrounds you. Not only are you wearing his clothes, but you’re using his blankets and cuddling up against his chest. You’re wholly engulfed in the scent. The overall atmosphere is so comforting and calm. You absolutely love it. The heavy rainfall mixed with your relatively quiet conversation adds to the ambiance. It’s something you could never quite describe.

“Hey,” he pulls you from your thoughts with a shrug of his shoulder you were leaning against, “You zoned out there. What do you think about that idea?”

“I like it.” you hum back, “I guess we should get to know each other better than just our first names and jobs.”

He chuckles and tells you anything you want to know. Things that were as simple as his favorite color (it’s white) or as complex as his family dynamic. You laugh all throughout your time, cuddled up together, learning all you can. Bear had joined you at one point, resting his head against your thigh. His body flopped across the empty space on the couch you had once occupied. You hadn’t even noticed the passage of time, just happy sitting here and telling him about yourself and learning about him. The rain never let up, though. It remained a constant heavy downpour the entire time. At some point, you both become even more comfortable. His head rested on top of yours, and his arm wrapped ever so slightly tighter around your shoulder. It felt so right despite having just met a few hours ago.

Suddenly, he lifts his head, “How late is it? It’s hard to tell with how rainy it is.”

“It’s,” you start, pulling your phone out of the sweatpants’ pocket, “almost 10 pm. Oh shit, almost 10… I should probably go. It would be rude of me to overstay my welcome.”

“No, no, it’s okay. It’s still raining hard outside. I don’t want to send you home in this storm.”

“Jongho,” you sigh, “it’s fine. You said you’d be able to drive me home.” you remind him.

Just as he goes to answer you, a loud crack of thunder sounds through the sky outside. The rain begins beating down harder, the sound almost deafening against the windowpanes. It’s almost as if the weather itself is telling you to stay, too. He lets out a sigh instead of the words he was about to say.

“I doubt either of us wants to go out in that rain… and honestly, I don’t want to drive in that kind of storm either.”

“I wouldn’t make you do that.”

An awkward silence fills the space between you. You both know what needs to be addressed, but neither of you wants to say it. You hear Bear panting quietly from his bed near Jongho’s houseplant. It’s the only sound besides the rain filling the apartment. Fiddling with the hem of the shirt he lent you, you aren’t sure how to approach the elephant in the room. He doesn’t seem to either. Jongho is busying himself, looking around his living room, trying to find anything to look at.

“Well-” your voice comes out slightly shaky, “I’ll just sleep on your couch until the storm passes. I can walk home after-”

“No,” the brunette cuts you off, “I won’t let you go home by yourself in the middle of the night. I’ll sleep on the couch. You should sleep in a bed.”

“Jongho I-”

“Unless you’d rather share it with me.” he states plainly.

You’re taken back for a moment, having not expected the comment, “Um, I guess I’ll sleep in your bed then…” your voice comes out shaky again.

“Bear likes to sleep at the foot of the bed.” he chuckles, “Just a warning.”

A part of you feels bad for taking the bed. It is his apartment, after all. Another part of you is grateful he gave you the bed. You know sleeping on a stranger’s couch wouldn’t be the most comfortable, and his gentlemanly gesture makes you feel just a bit more comfortable. The greater part of you feels bad that he’s sleeping on the couch in his home.

You try for a while to fall asleep, but you just can’t. Even with Bear eventually coming to lay at the end of the bed, you can’t seem to fall asleep. Your tossing and turning eventually annoys the Saint Bernard, who huffs at you before walking up to lay against your body. You welcome the warmth, but sleep doesn’t come your way. Sitting up, you look at the half-asleep dog beside you. Bear just gives you a look and huffs again. After debating mentally for about another ten minutes, you wrap a throw blanket around yourself and walk out to the living room again.

Jongho is seemingly fast asleep on the couch. One of his arms is over his head while the other is resting against his chest. Yet again, he steals your breath for simply existing. When you step closer, you start to debate with yourself again. You should probably just go back to his room and succumb to tossing and turning all night. 

“If you’re gonna stare, at least be subtle about it.” Jongho teases, eyes still shut.

“I couldn’t sleep.” You reply, “I didn’t want to disturb you, but-”

“I can’t sleep either.” He admits, “Come here.”

“What?” You’re confused, to say the least.

“Normally, Bear cuddles with me, but he’s already opted for his dog bed. Come here, we need to get used to physical contact, right?”

You nibble on your lower lip as you think. Earlier, you really did feel comfortable in his arms. His is right, too. If you’re going to be meeting Wooyoung later in the week for a double date, you know he’d be suspicious if you two weren’t physically affectionate. Finally giving in, you climb onto the couch and lay your head against his chest. The arm that was previously resting there moves to be splayed across your shoulders. Suddenly, you feel exhaustion overtake you. Mere moments ago, you were the furthest you could be from getting rest. Now, you can barely keep your eyes open.

You don’t expect to have a dog licking your face when you wake up. You blink slowly, seeing the sun beaming through the window. Then, when you see the pup sitting in front of the couch, you notice that he’s picked up his leash and wants to go for a walk. Jongho is still asleep underneath you. You opt to get up and get your clothing out of the dryer before you head out. On your way to the laundry closet, you grab your phone. You do your best not to let out an annoyed groan when you see a text from Wooyoung.

Do Not Answer ❌ Hey Miyeon and I are heading to the festival that’s in the park right now. You and your boyfriend down to move out double date today?

You leave him on ‘read’ for now. Eventually, you reach the laundry closet and grab all your clothing. Suddenly, Jongho appears in front of you. He’s clearly still half asleep as he shuffles down the hallway.

“Let me walk you back to your place if you’re going to leave so soon.” He offers, his voice still gravelly from sleep.

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Let me. It’s not a bother to me at all. Bear wants his morning walk as it is.”

You nod, “I’ll get changed back into my own clothes real quick, then we can go.”

Jongho nods back at you and lets you walk past to change in the bathroom. Everything is fine, peaceful even. You don’t think about Wooyoung’s rather irritating request to change plans. That is, until, he sends you yet another text.

Do Not Answer ❌ Hey… if you would rather come to our place and have the date there we can… 

Didn’t think you wanted to be back in our apartment after you stormed out on me like that

If you do though I don’t mind that one bit… hope your boy doesn’t mind though

His comments make your skin crawl. Referring to his apartment as your shared home was already bad; also, saying you stormed out on him only made the bitter taste in your mouth worse. Still, you swallow your irritation and respond.

Do Not Answer ❌

My boyfriend has a name. Be fucking respectful Wooyoung.

My bad… So are you and whatever his name is coming or should I tell Miyeon you backed out?

You talked with him yesterday. His name is Jongho. We didn’t back out of anything… We literally just woke up. I’ll talk to him about it in a second

You don’t check whether he responds once you pocket your phone. When you pop the door open again, Bear is waiting for you. His tail is swishing against the hall rug excitedly. You watch as he trots down the hall when you step closer. You follow after him and see that he stops right at the door where Jongho is ready and waiting for you while looking at his phone.

“I need to ask you something.”

“Hmm?” He asks, putting his phone in his jacket pocket.

“Wooyoung…” you trail off, trying your best not to be annoyed with your ex.

Jongho’s face hardens, “Did he do something?”

For a moment, you feel butterflies coursing through your body. The way he’s asking is as if he’s your actual boyfriend and is showing concern for your well-being. You shake your head to snap yourself out of it.

“He wants to change plans last minute. He always did this shit when we were together too… If you aren’t up for going on a double date right now, I’ll just take the fall of ‘backing out’ like he’s claiming.”

“Where are they? If I can bring Bear with us, we’ll be good.”

“The park near his apartment that has some sort of festival.”

“Perfect! Do you want something else to wear since you wore that yesterday? I know it’s clean, but I’m sure he would say something even though I only met him yesterday. He seems like that kind of person.”

You nod shyly, “A sweater would be nice. I don’t mind wearing the rest of my clothes still.”

Bear walks over and nudges you with his head. He’s already very attached to you it seems. You squat down and pet him for a few moments. Despite his size, the large dog melts into you and lets out a satisfied groan when you scratch his ears.

“What kind of sweater?” You hear Jongho call, “I have plenty.”

“Something comfy! I don’t want to be too cold while we’re out.” You call back, very much still preoccupied with Bear.

You hear Jongho walk back up to you. You look up and see a thicker black sweater with thin grey and white stripes across it in his hands. He’s giving you a gentle smile.

“Here you go, clothing thief.” He smirks at you.

You take the sweater from him, “You offered.” You grumble back playfully before walking back to the bathroom to change again.

The sweater is far more comfortable than you expected. It’s long enough that your hands disappear beneath the sleeves, and the bottom hem hangs low enough to cover your entire butt. When you return, Jongho has Bear harnessed up and ready to go. Something about the entire scene makes you feel warmly domestic with a man you met less than 24 hours ago. 

The walk to the park isn’t very eventful, in complete honesty. Most pauses you take are to let Bear sniff something or do his business. Of course, you and Jongho make small conversation about nothing particularly important. You don’t even physically interact with each other. That is, until, you approach the start of the park. You feel Jongho’s strong arm wrap around you while the other still holds onto Bear’s leash. You look at him with a slightly perplexed look; you expect him to hold you, but his grip is rather tight on your hip. It’s almost protective in a way.

“I see them.” he whispers against your hair as if he’s whispering a sweet nothing. “Just play along, okay?”

You nod, “Let the show begin.”

COPYRIGHT STARLITMARK 2023© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — reposting/modifying any fic or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations are not permitted. 

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[txtaetertots]

meet cute | choi yeonjun

pairing non-idol!yeonjun x gn!reader

wc 4.6k

genre strangers to lovers, fluff, lowkey crack

summary you meet your best friend’s roommate in the most bizarre borderline violating way possible.

warnings crack kinda wack, swearing, mentioned/implied nudity, yeonjun’s an embarrassing mess, suggestive joke at the end oop

notes this has been a wip for a few months now i thought it would be a funny little one shot to write.. i had too much fun writing it i fear pls enjoy 😅

most couples have what they call a meet-cute. in other words, a cute or unique situation in which they met. sometimes they’re quirky and awkward. and the way you and yeonjun met was definitely… something of the sort.

“i feel sticky,” you whined to your friend beomgyu. it was a hot day. there were barely any clouds to spare some shade and the sun seemed to have chosen to beam down especially hard on you. you tried your best to dress appropriately but even if you were naked there would have been no escape from the intensity of this heat.

beomgyu rolled over to his side and propped himself up on his elbow, squinting as he looked up at you sitting up and soaked in sweat. he grimaced, “ew. you look disgusting.”

you shoved his shoulder, causing him to fall flat on his back, inciting a cackle from him. the two of you had been friends for a little over six months. and in these six months, he quickly became your bestest most trusted friend.

the day you met, you had just finished settling into your new apartment and decided it was finally time to explore your new city. but, you failed to take into account your terrible navigation skills. you ended up in a random pc bang after trying to look for somewhere to regroup before trying again to find that restaurant you heard such good things about. you must have looked lost enough because a random boy sat beside you, peering over your shoulder to look at the way your thumbs twiddled on the naver map.

“you know,” the boy started, startling you. you jumped back, scooting away from him and staring at him with wide eyes. “if you want to find the soshi bar, you should try spelling it right.”

he looked at you innocently, sipping his cola. you furrowed your brows before looking back down at your phone, immediately noticing your spelling mistake. you shrunk in embarrassment as you corrected it before thanking him quietly.

“you must be new to the area. are you a tourist?” the boy asked.

“uhm, no. i just moved here a few days ago,” you answered hesitantly.

he smiled brightly, extending his hand out for you to take. “wow, welcome to the city! i’m beomgyu!”

you gave him a friendly smile before taking his hand and introducing yourself back.

you could’ve just left and forgotten him. but, considering you had no friends in the city, you took him up on his offer to show you around. and what ended up blossoming from that chance interaction was a friendship you’d both treasure for years to come.

“wanna go back to my place and wait for the sun to go down a bit before going back home?” beomgyu offered, getting himself up off the grass and dusting his clothes off.

you nodded, holding your hands out, asking him to help you up to your feet. he grabbed your hands and pulled you up with more force than necessary, causing you to stumble as you tried to catch your balance. if there was one thing beomgyu was good at, it was teasing you as if he were your little brother.

his apartment wasn’t very far from the park you two decided to take a break in after shopping together all morning. the walk felt like an eternity though. you could feel the sweat beads pouring down from your forehead and temples, finding their way down your neck to the collar of your tank top. you felt disgusting.

you came upon beomgyu’s complex and were immediately met with a smack of ac. the sensation was so satisfying you let out a contented sigh. but, your sweat began matting, making you feel even stickier than before.

“beomgyu,” you exasperated as you watched him punch in his door code. “is there any way i can shower here? i don’t think i can stand being this gross any longer.”

beomgyu shrugged, opening his door and letting you in. “sure, i don’t mind. i’ll get you a towel.”

it wasn’t your first time at beomgyu’s place. you’ve actually been over quite a few times. but, despite this, you’ve never met his roommate—yeonjun. beomgyu has told you about him a couple of times saying he was more like an older brother than a roommate. he always says how he wants to introduce you two since you’re both important people to him. but, yeonjun seemed to always be at work. according to beomgyu, he worked at a dance studio as an instructor. he was usually there all day. with the way beomgyu spoke so highly of him, you were sure you would like him and get along well. whenever it would be to finally meet this elusive boy.

beomgyu walked you to their linen closet, grabbing a fresh towel for you to use. “you can just use my products,” he offered as he motioned to the bathroom door.

you thanked him and walked into the bathroom, taking note of the blue basket of shower products labeled ‘beomgyu’. you smiled to yourself as you saw the rose and peony-scented soaps he had. no wonder he smelled so nice, you thought to yourself.

while you got yourself situated, beomgyu went back to his room, deciding to kill some time by playing some video games while he waited for his turn to shower. he sat at his pc and put on his headset, settling into his noise-canceling gaming world.

it felt so good to be out of your gross sweat-drenched clothes and under the clean running water. thank your luck you bought clothes you could get away with wearing until you got home. and thank the heavens you had a friend like beomgyu.

unbeknownst to anyone involved, however, this should-have-been refreshing shower was about to turn into the single most embarrassing and honestly violating moment of your life.

yeonjun was sloppily running up the stairs to his shared apartment with beomgyu. he really had to use the bathroom.

the ac unit at the dance studio stopped working, so they had to close down for the rest of the day much to yeonjun’s disappointment. he was already out of the subway when the urge hit him. he really had to piss. thank god he was just a few minutes away from his apartment.

he inputted the door code and rushed inside, not bothering to check if beomgyu was home. but, he assumed he was upon walking up to the bathroom and hearing the shower running. normal people would stay out of the bathroom when it’s already occupied, but beomgyu and yeonjun only had one bathroom. they had the agreement that it was okay for each other to walk in when needed if either one was showering or brushing their teeth. the only exception was if someone had to take a number two. that could wait until the bathroom was vacant and free of victims. but, yeonjun just had to pee, so it was fine.

the door was locked, which was unusual considering their agreement and should have raised some flags. but yeonjun just shrugged, easily unlocking it with a swift turn of the exterior locking mechanism with his thumbnail. when he swung the door open, he was met with an ear-bursting scream.

you were rinsing beomgyu’s apple-scented shampoo out of your hair when you began hearing noises outside the door. first, it was the sound of the front door opening and closing. then, it was hurried footsteps coming toward the bathroom. finally, it was the sound of the doorknob unlocking and turning. you peered around the curtain when the door swung open, eyes meeting with the man who had his hand on the knob and the color drained from his face. you screamed, clenching the curtain to hide what you could of your naked body.

“get OUT!”

yeonjun froze in place for a few seconds, trying to process what was happening. he stumbled with the door, forcefully slamming it shut. he turned around and leaned his back against the door, eyes still wide and mouth agape. what the fuck.

“what the hell is going on?!” beomgyu exclaimed, running out of his room and to the scene of the crime.

his face fell when he saw yeonjun against the bathroom door clenching his chest and face bright red. the shower stopped running and he could hear you fumbling around. when the puzzle pieces began coming together, beomgyu turned to yeonjun and glared.

“yeonjun, you perv!” he accused.

yeonjun shook his head furiously, taking awkward steps towards beomgyu. he moved his mouth but no words were coming out. of the thousands of thoughts running through his mind at this very moment, all he could say were splutters of sounds and exasperated breaths.

the bathroom door slowly came open, revealing you with the towel wrapped firmly around your figure and your clothes gripped in your arms. beomgyu looked in your direction, eyes sorry. but, yeonjun turned his back, not wanting to make you more violated than you probably already felt. you hurried to beomgyu’s room to change into some of the clothes you bought and get yourself out of this situation as quickly as you possibly could.

beomgyu turned back to yeonjun, crossing his arms and scowling. “mind explaining what you were doing walking in on yn showering?”

yeonjun’s eyes widened again. yn? as in the new friend beomgyu had been gushing to him about for months? the friend he swore up and down yeonjun would probably get along with really well.

“i thought it was you!” yeonjun finally managed to spat.

“you didn’t notice the smaller shoes by the entrance?!” beomgyu pointed.

“i had to piss, gyu! all i had on my mind was getting to the toilet in time!” yeonjun threw his hands up to his hair, clenching a fist full in each and letting out an embarrassed whine. “why didn’t you text me about bringing your friend over?!”

“how was i supposed to know you were leaving the studio early!?”

as the two continued to argue, you paced in beomgyu’s room and bit at your thumb. so, that’s yeonjun.

this wasn’t exactly how any of you planned to introduce yourselves. you’re just grateful the shower curtain saved you from exposing anything to him. still, it was humiliating and terrifying to be walked in on while in such a vulnerable position.

“yn? are you decent?” you heard beomgyu through the door. you cleared your throat, trying to collect yourself before answering with a yes.

the door opened cautiously, beomgyu slowly peering inside and walking in. he looked at you with an apologetic face, opening his arms for you to find comfort in his embrace. you smiled, making your way to him and wrapping your arms around his waist as he wrapped his around your shoulders. he rubbed your back, apologizing you were put in such an unfortunate situation.

“i’m okay, beom. i don’t think he saw anything. besides, it was a misunderstanding,” you reassured. you weren’t mad. it was just startling. and, you were certain yeonjun didn’t have any malicious intent when he barged in on you naked in the shower. as odd as that sounds to say.

you and beomgyu walked out of his room and met with yeonjun who was sprawled on the couch face down.

“hey, pervert,” beomgyu whistled, knocking on yeonjun’s head to prompt him to get up.

“i’m not a pervert!” yeonjun cried, lifting his head. when he looked up, his eyes met with you smiling down at him trying to stifle a laugh after seeing him so sulky. he gasped, falling off the couch in an attempt to get up. the thud caused you and beomgyu to erupt into laughter, watching the taller and older boy try to collect himself.

yeonjun stood up, shoulders stiff as he held his breath. he tried his best to avoid looking at you too long, choosing to stare at the ceiling instead. he was afraid if he looked at you he’d start imagining you the way you looked in the shower. the mere thought of that made his face flush a bright red again.

“yeonjun.. is it?” you asked, walking towards him little by little. he nodded, still insisting on looking everywhere but at you.

“i’m not upset at you for walking in on me anymore,” you comforted. “it was an honest mistake.”

your tone was so reassuring and gentle. he expected you to give him a piece of your mind (and he wouldn’t have been mad about it). he thought he deserved to get yelled at, but you were so understanding and kind. it made him relax a little. yeonjun released his breath, warily turning his attention to you.

once his gaze landed on you, he felt like he was knocked off his feet. his mouth fell slightly agape, face heating up as he admired the beautiful smile painted over your plush lips. your eyes were so kind, giving him a sense of relief.

“i hope i didn’t scar you back there,” you giggled lightheartedly, trying to brighten his mood.

he shook his head, eyes wide and still glued to your face. “no way! you’re gorgeous!”

the moment those words spilled out of his mouth his hand jolted up and slapped over his lips. you were taken aback but immediately fell into a fit of giggles. beomgyu joined you in laughter, absolutely amused by how clumsily yeonjun was behaving. he’s never seen him so flustered.

“i am so sorry,” yeonjun said, shoulders stiffening again. “i swear i didn’t see anything! i don’t know why i said that.”

you shook your head. “no need to apologize! if it makes you feel any better, i think you’re pretty cute yourself.”

none of this was making him feel better.

yeonjun was so embarrassed and hearing you call him ‘cute’ just made him want to crawl into a hole. just when he thought his day couldn’t get any worse, he practically violated his roommate’s new friend. and, to make that even worse, you seemed to be having fun teasing him about it.

“i’m gonna go now,” he quickly excused himself and ran to lock himself in his room.

you and beomgyu could hear him cursing himself and whining as soon as he closed the door. it was amusing, you’ll admit. but, it also made you feel bad for teasing him. he was clearly full of guilt and incredibly apologetic for the incident. beomgyu hadn’t given him a heads up that there was a guest and he obviously was experiencing a bathroom emergency. you understood him and decided to give him a pass this one time, especially because there was no real harm done besides startling you. as quickly as he intruded he left.

yeonjun didn’t dare step foot outside that room until he was sure you were gone. he paced around, debating whether six hours was long enough of a wait before attempting to crack open his door and check if the coast was clear. he walked up to his door carefully, pressing his ear against it, and held his breath, trying to hear if there were any signs of life besides beomgyu. not a single peep. he opened his door slowly, trying not to catch anyone’s attention in case you were still there.

just when he thought he was safe to come out, beomgyu jumped out from the blindspot of his door. yeonjun let out a scream, hands jolting up to his chest and clutching his shirt. beomgyu began laughing, taking enjoyment out of scaring the easily startled yeonjun.

“beomgyu, what the hell!?” yeonjun yelled, his fear quickly replaced with aggravation.

“sorry, it’s just too easy,” beomgyu teased, trying to suppress his laughter.

“did yn leave?” yeonjun asked, relaxing his arms.

“they left hours ago,” beomgyu informed.

“why didn’t you tell me!?”

“i wanted to see how long you’d keep yourself locked up,” beomgyu shrugged, walking back toward the kitchen.

yeonjun followed him, annoyed but relieved. he took a seat at their dinner table, finally able to relax a little bit and eat something. he didn’t know how much longer he could go listening to his stomach growl. beomgyu rustled around their cabinets and fridge, shaking his head and clicking his tongue.

“we need to do some grocery shopping,” beomgyu announced, shutting the fridge and grabbing his phone out of his back pocket. “wanna order takeout tonight?”

yeonjun nodded in agreement. beomgyu took a seat across from him at the table as he placed an order for their favorite restaurant through an app. yeonjun’s leg bounced as he watched beomgyu place the order, hands clasped together over his chin. the silence between them was making him think and he needed answers before his thoughts ate him alive.

“is yn really okay after what happened?!” he blurted, face twisting into displeasure.

he just couldn’t shake it off. no matter what you said earlier, he felt like he had to do something to make it up to you. it didn’t feel right having you forgive him so easily.

“yeah, they said no harm no foul,” beomgyu replied, eyes never leaving his screen.

yeonjun shook his head. he couldn’t accept it. “but, i say yes harm yes foul!”

beomgyu paused his tapping and looked up from his phone with an amused smile on his face. he raised an eyebrow upon seeing how guilt-ridden yeonjun still was. beomgyu admitted it was kind of a messed up situation, but you insisted that everything was okay.

“what do you want to do then? make it up to them somehow?” beomgyu asked.

“i have to,” yeonjun pleaded. “it’s eating me alive how humiliating that was, gyu.”

beomgyu sighed, tapping a couple more times on his phone before shutting it off and putting it face down on the table. he straightened up, folding his arms over the table, and gave yeonjun his undivided attention.

“okay,” he started. “what do you want to do?”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

it was a ridiculous idea, but beomgyu would be lying if he said he didn’t want to see yeonjun go through with it. he thought it was a bit extreme, but yeonjun insisted that it was the only way to match up with the situation he accidentally put you in. it made him wonder why yeonjun was putting in this much effort, but the look on yeonjun’s face when he saw you walking up to them gave him the clearest answer.

beomgyu had texted you asking you to meet them at the park by his apartment. something about yeonjun had gone nuts and you needed to be there or else his feelings would never recover. it was weird and cryptic, but it was beomgyu, so you didn’t question it. though, that didn’t stop your confusion as you spotted the two standing and anxiously looking around. as soon as yeonjun spotted you, he smiled brightly and began taking deep breaths to prepare himself.

“hey, guys? what’s going on?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed as you got a better look at yeonjun’s attire.

beomgyu pointed at yeonjun, a smirk on his face knowing what was about to happen next.

yeonjun sighed, “i had to make it up to you somehow for what happened. and this is what i came up with.”

suddenly, yeonjun removed his sweater and sweatpants, revealing himself wearing a rather small pair of brightly colored swim trunks. your hand slapped over your mouth, watching as he rushed to the center of the walkway where buskers usually set up. he yelled trying to grab everyone’s attention, and once he got it, he pointed at beomgyu as a cue. beomgyu had his phone in hand and a small portable speaker in the other. as soon as he got the cue, he pressed play on his phone and music began playing through the speaker.

park patrons watched in amusement, some laughing and others rather appalled at yeonjun’s act. he was dancing and singing to ‘happiness’ by h.o.t, and rather terribly so. he was out of breath, purposefully exaggerating his moves and singing. despite everyone watching, his attention was only on you. watching intently how you were reacting and whether you were watching him at all. and how could you not? it was impossible to look away, you almost didn’t notice beomgyu on the ground holding his stomach from laughing so hard.

three minutes felt like an eternity in this moment, and when they were finally over, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were keeping in. yeonjun stood in his ending pose for a few seconds, dripping in sweat, skin flushed red, and heaving begging for air. his audience cheered, laughing as he took his bow and rushed back to you and beomgyu. you were speechless as he grabbed his things, slapped beomgyu’s leg prompting him to hurry, and grabbed your hand before running back toward the direction of their apartment.

people on the street stared as you three rushed by and into the apartment building. beomgyu was still in a fit of giggles as you rushed up the stairs and finally into their unit. you stood quietly by the foyer, watching as yeonjun took a moment to catch his breath and beomgyu lay on the couch trying to stop his giggles as he replayed the performance in his head.

“what the hell just happened?” you finally asked, thoughts slowly coming together.

yeonjun stood up straight, still in just his swim trunks. he took one last deep breath, standing before you with his head held high.

“i put myself in a vulnerable, humiliating position to make you feel better for accidentally putting you in one, too,” he proclaimed. “i hope now you can forgive me and feel better about what happened. i’m sorry.”

you stood with your mouth slightly agape, slowly beginning to laugh. beomgyu erupted into laughter again watching you. the embarrassment finally began to settle in for yeonjun, his arms crossing over his bare torso and face turning hot. you sighed, an endeared smile taking over your lips as you reached behind him and grabbed his sweater off the couch. you held it out for him to take, earning a small smile of gratitude from him.

“yeonjun,” you began. “you didn’t have to do all that. i promise everything was fine.”

you paused for a moment, watching the way his lips began to pout. the doe-eyed expression on his face made your chest twist. god, he’s so cute.

“but,” you continued. “i really appreciate you for wanting to make it up to me.”

yeonjun finally smiled, happy to hear you accepted his gesture. you pushed him to go get himself washed up and comfortable while you dealt with beomgyu, who was clutching his stomach in pain.

you plopped beside him, sighing as he sat up and winced. “my abs are on fire.”

“that’s what you get for not talking him out of that!” you scolded.

“i tried to!” beomgyu retorted. “but he was dead set on it. honestly, i think he has a little crush on you.”

beomgyu laid back down continuing to massage his stomach, not thinking twice about what he said. his words were echoing over and over in your head, though. yeonjun has a crush on me? you thought. you bit your bottom lip, hiding the smile threatening to reveal your excitement over that revelation. 

yeonjun walked back into the living room, changed and freshly showered. beomgyu got up, excusing himself to the bathroom to look through their medicine cabinet for a topical pain reliever to massage over his ribs. yeonjun decided to take a seat next to you, finally feeling more relaxed to be near you. but, because he was able to actually look at you, he noticed the way you tensed up as soon as he took a seat beside you. worry began to cloud his thoughts.

“yn? are you sure you’re okay? you seem tense,” he asked, cautiously giving you space in case you were uncomfortable.

you shook your head, placing your hand on yeonjun’s shoulder for reassurance.

“i’m fine, yeonjun! i promise!”

“then, why are you so tense? do i make you uncomfortable? do you not want me here without beomgyu?”

he kept shooting questions at you, wanting to do whatever he could to make sure you felt comfortable and safe around him. you kept insisting that everything was fine and that he didn’t do anything wrong. he wasn’t buying any of it though and begged you to tell him what was wrong.

“you’re gonna laugh,” you warned. “beomgyu said you have a little crush on me.”

yeonjun fell silent for a moment, eyes widened. you stared at him, anxiously waiting for him to respond. an awkward laugh broke his silence, his fingers fidgeting with the drawstring of his sweatpants.

“he said that?” he asked, eyes wandering around the room.

there it was again. he was avoiding making any contact with you. you slowly scooted closer to him, making him freeze.

“well, do you?”

“do i what?”

“do you have a crush on me?”

yeonjun paused, looking at you for a brief moment before straight ahead at the powerless television screen in front of you. he cleared his throat before cautiously answering.

“i mean, i do find you… attractive,” he said. “so… what if i do?”

you smiled, finding his nervous mannerisms cute. 

“would it make you feel better if i told you i had a little crush on you, too?”

yeonjun snapped his head to look at you so quickly you could’ve sworn he got whiplash. his eyes were wide, nostrils flared in bewilderment. he didn’t even try to hide the smile creeping up on his face. he didn’t want to admit it to beomgyu then, but he was smitten from the moment he saw you. your smile, your laugh, your eyes. everything about you was so… pretty. so, so pretty. and it was killing him knowing he might have ruined any chance he had at getting to know you properly because of the incident. who would want to get to know the person who walked in on them in the shower?! even if it was an accident. but, hearing you say you took just as much interest in him as he did you, made him overjoyed. 

“wait, really?” he asked, almost as if it were too good to be true.

“i told you i thought you were cute, didn’t i?” you reminded.

“so, does that mean, if i asked you out, you would say yes?”

you shrugged. “i don’t know. try.”

he laughed, beginning to find your teasing somewhat entertaining.

“yn,” he said, his shoulders relaxed and his voice calm. “would you do me the pleasure of going on a date with me?”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

you loved to reminisce about that moment, even though yeonjun would prefer if you didn’t remind him. it’s been a year, but no matter how long it’s been he will never get over the embarrassment that memory gives him. he still wished you two met in a better manner, one that made him look cool. but, you wouldn’t trade that moment for anything. you don’t think it could’ve gone any other way that would have made him appear more charming than that.

“you know,” you said, playing with his hand as you lay in bed together. “you could have just gotten me an ‘i’m sorry i almost saw you naked’ cake and we could’ve called it even.”

“baby,” yeonjun deadpanned, hand gently rubbing your back. “i was desperate and irrational. it was all i could think of at the time!”

you giggled, nuzzling into his neck and wrapping your arm around his torso. he was still as endearing as ever.

“we’ve come a long way since then,” he said. you hummed in response, closing your eyes as you allowed yourself to begin drifting to sleep.

“because i’m allowed to see you naked now,” he added quickly, suppressing his giggles as you playfully slapped his chest.

endearing and annoying as ever.

© txtaetertots

[astroboots]

CICI!!! I am obsessed with Miguel's chompers! his teeth!! I just want him to bite me!!!

Oh nonny I knoooooow. They are so pretty! They do something to me. So funnily enough I have this tiny little drabble in my WIPs for the longest time that I didn't quite know what to do with so I thought I'd throw this out here.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader

Word Count: 750

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

"Can I touch them?" you ask.

He raises one thick and perfectly arched eyebrow at you, with not a little judgment in his expression, as if he is looking at a fucking crazy person.

Which, he's probably not entirely wrong about, but it's rude nevertheless.

"You want to touch them?" He repeats, slowly with a deep sardonic drawl. The way you would speak to a not so bright child.

Heat prickles your cheeks. Miguel has this uncanny ability to get under your skin. He should add it to his list of superpowers.

"If it's a no, just say it's a no! There's no need to be an ass about it."

His lips pulls into a smirk, and for a fraction of a moment, you see a glimpse of the sharp edge of his corner tooth before he tucks them behind his lips, out of sight again.

Miguel gestures you forward, spreading his legs from where he's sitting on your couch. The motion has your brain stalling. You can't help but stare, he's wearing oversized sweats and you can still somehow see the definition of his legs shift against the fabric as he moves.

Shit, he definitely caught you in the act. His smile pulls even wider as he pats his hand down on the meat of his thigh. "C'mere nena."

What does he think you are? A dog?

For all your indignance at the gesture, you still go to him, and when you're within reach, his hand comes up to pull and tug you into his lap until you're comfortably perched there.

"You wanna touch, huh?" he teases, amusement dripping from the words as he smiles up at you and bounces you up on his knee.

God, of course he's going to make a big fucking deal of this. You don't know what possessed you to ask in the first place. You can really only answer with the truth:

"I'm just a little bit curious."

It's the understatement of the century. You are more than a little bit curious. You're absolutely fucking fascinated by them. Feel a trill of excitement everytime you catch a small glimpse of them when he's caught by surprise and smiles uninhibitedly at you.

Will stall out any moment during any dinner when he chews on his food and they peek out from his mouth.

Throughout the years, Miguel's gotten very good at hiding them. Conspicuously tucking them behind his lip that most people will never be the wiser. It's why he often mumbles why he speaks because doing both at the same time can be difficult. It's a part of himself that he never show, to the point that even though you've been together for a while now, it's only fairly recently that you've gotten to see them properly.

In front of you, Miguel leans back against the couch.

"Go ahead." He tilts his head up, baring his throat to you as he parts his mouth, and then you see them.

Those two prominent canine teeth of his. Fang-like pointy teeth on either side of the incisors.

Your ears burn. He never shows them to you this brazenly.

Raising your hand closer to his face, you can't help the way they are actually shaking with excitement. Your thumb grazes at the point of his left tooth, and you can feel the sharpness tingle against your pad.

God, you could cut yourself on these.

"You done? Ish a bit uncomfortable."

You hum distractedly, not fully taking in his words, entirely fascinated as you press your thumb with a bit more pressure again the edge.

"Careful, nena," he warns.

Stilling at his words, you pull your thumb from his mouth as you inspect it. It hasn't broken any skin yet.

"Why? Does poison always come out when you bite?"

There's that look on his face, like you just asked him the dumbest question on earth, then he laughs. "No. It'd be difficult to eat if that was the case. Most of the times it's dry bites. I used to bite myself on the lip all the time when I first got them."

"So what would happen if you bit me?"

He blinks up at your question. Smile fading as he considers your question as his eyes roams over your form slowly appraising you from head to toe. Something switches in him, no longer playful a tangible change that you see in the shade of his darkening eyes that shines crimson.

His arm snake around your waist, tightening his hold on you. "Do you want me to bite you, nena? Is that what you're asking?"

You swallow thickly at his words. Staring up at his saphire eyes that seems to glint with glee as he asks you the question.

Your back prickles with excitement just at the thought of it and for that moment you forget all about your hesitation or any shred of pride as you nod back at him.

"Yes," you answer. "Please."

A/N: This is nena from Every You Ever Me universe, do with that piece of information as you will.