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katerina-marie · 1 month

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Bathtub Confessions (Eres Tú)

Sukuna x Reader

Part 4

The one where you learn that certain confessions don't always have to be romantic, but others certainly do.

Word Count: 5.7k

Notes: Sukuna x Reader celebrity!au. Takes place directly after part three. Song of inspiration: Eres Tú by Carla Morrison

Content: bandmember Sukuna x actor female Reader (referred to as such, but left descriptively vague), no y/n, manager Nanami, bodyguard Toji, actor Gojo, found family vibes, some angst, fluff, crack, humor, out of character Sukuna (he's so fluffy), suggestive, maybe lightly explicit, tho no sex actually occurs (sorry), so please avoid accordingly.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

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“Should I change my name?”

A beat of silence. A drop of water.

“No.”

“Should I get a wig?”

Another beat of silence. A clink of glass on tile.

“No.”

“Should I flee the country?”

A minuscule half second of silence.

“Not if you’re going to quit paying me,” Toji grumbled.

His response made the frown on your face dip down further on your lips, and you rolled your head against the back of your porcelain tub to stare at the ceiling.

“Is that all you see me as?” you whined, “A paycheck?”

“You want me to lie?”

“That’s it, I’m going to drown myself.”

That gets a long, heavy sigh from your bodyguard and you can hear him readjust himself on the chaise lounge seated in the middle of your expansive bathroom before he carries on.

“First off,” he grunts, “no you’re not. That would require me to pull your sad self naked from the tub, and we both know we don’t want that. Second…you know you’re not just a paycheck.” Toji goes quiet for a moment. “I’d like to think that we’ve become a sort of family over the last couple years, you, me, and Nanami. Shoot, even Megs too when he’s around.”

His soft confession brings a smile to your face, and you turn your head to the right to look in his direction from behind a large mahogany privacy screen. It stands tall, wrapping just barely around the ends of your tub where your feet and head lay, keeping you securely tucked away from any prying eyes. It found its way there long ago, because this wasn’t the first time that Toji had played therapist from his dedicated chaise while you lounged in a hot bath and the two of you shared a bottle of wine.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him, “I’m grateful you’re my friend…and my family.”

“Don’t worry about it, I know you are. But don’t go on getting too upset or sentimental just because you’ve had a rough day. Things haven’t been that bad,” Toji said, and you groaned at the reminder.

After finally arriving home safely—no thanks to you—Toji immediately went into damage control mode and spent the afternoon fielding phone calls and text messages, though nothing too serious had been blown your way yet.

You had received a none-too-pleased email from the producer of the movie you and Satoru were co-starring in, accusing you of sabotaging the release by not waiting to reveal your relationship with Sukuna until after the movie premiered in a few short months (as if he couldn’t tell that what happened today wasn’t by choice). Luckily, Satoru swooped in with his sweet-talking words and buttered the producer right back into promising extra money for a job well done. Though Satoru’s idea of fixing things was convincing the producer that the only premise that sold better than a classic love story was the angst of a good ol’ fashioned love triangle, and he was more than happy to play the jilted lover dead set on winning you back. You wondered what it must be like to live in such delusions.

What really put the cherry on top of a bad day was the text you received from Sukuna shortly after arriving home. It wasn’t anything particularly worrisome, a straight to the point, “I’ll call you this evening, busy smoothing a couple things out, x,” but it had you in a fit nonetheless. After sending a quick affirmation back, you threw your phone across the couch in your living room and flung yourself onto the nearest surface to bemoan your miserable existence. Toji was not amused when that nearest surface happened to be his chest, and he only offered you five minutes of soaking his shirt with snot and tears before he drug you upstairs to your bedroom, turned on the hot water to your tub, and shoved you into the bathroom with a promise to return with wine if you quieted down for just a second.

So here you were, an hour later, soaking under a mountain of peppermint scented bubbles while you toed at the hot water handle at the end of the tub.

“You think if I begged hard enough Nanami would let me come stay with him for the rest of his vacation? I’m afraid I’m in need of a tropical escape,” you told Toji, already calculating in your head how quickly you could pack your bags and be on the next plane to Malaysia.

Toji chuckled, “No, I don’t think he would, considering he refused to tell us anything more about his trip other than what country he’d be in and when he’d be back. You showing up would take seven years off his life. Add three more if he opens up the door to you sobbing like you’ve been all day. Besides, running away to another country just because you’re afraid to talk to your boyfriend is a cowardly move.”

You ‘tsked’ at him for calling you out on poor behavior and slouched further down into the hot water in shame-filled defeat. Instead of wallowing in it further though, you popped your ankles up on the rim of the tub, tossed your arms back to hang behind your head, and clapped twice to get Toji’s attention.

“Another glass of wine, please,” you mocked in as snobby an accent as you could manage.

“What do you take me as? I’m not your damn butler,” he complained, but you could hear the quick successive cracking of his back as he stood up from the chaise and stretched.

“Just one more and that’ll be it, I promise.” You considered what else could entice him into doing your bidding. “I’ll let you be done for the evening and take the day off tomorrow if you also bring me a plate of cheese and crackers, please.”

Toji was silent before letting out a begrudging “fine” and shuffling out the door without another complaint.

You marveled in the silence, nothing but the occasional lap of water as you adjusted yourself in the tub to break it. After a few minutes, however, you realized the absence of conversation was the perfect environment for your thoughts to run unhindered, and that was not something you cared to partake in at the given time. Trying to concentrate on anything else though was futile, and perhaps trying to wade through your own head for a few minutes would leave you feeling better when you chose to pointedly ignore it once your butler…ahem, Toji, returned with your snacks.

Besides falling on national television—and underneath Gojo Satoru nonetheless—you had a particularly difficult time deducing from yourself what exactly about the accidental revelation of your relationship with Sukuna caused you so much embarrassment. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be associated with him or that you always intended for the relationship to remain secret until it had reached its course; your desire was quite the opposite, actually. It was a feeling best left to baser animals and bedroom activities, but the idea of staking a claim, proving that he belonged to you in a way, was not unappealing and not something you could talk your way out of thinking, especially with the world the two of you lived in.

If you got down to it, the real problem lay in your unfortunate habit of caring what people thought. You didn’t want Sukuna to see you as childlike, only a few years younger than him in age but miles behind in maturity. You didn’t want him to view today’s incident as a misfortunate foreshadow into the “what if’s” of your relationship. Neither did you want the world looking at the two of you and questioning how exactly something like it came to be. Where Sukuna was all sharp angles and dark colors, suave nonchalance and carrying a presence that demanded to be seen, you felt painfully opposite. You wouldn’t self-deprecate and believe that you were unworthy of standing beside him, but just cognizant of how different you felt. More like something that could be just as appreciated, but more likely to be overlooked and favored over something brighter. A “mismatched pair” is what they would call you, something that struck you so vividly that the pressure in your chest increased ten-fold. You knew he would hear it, see it, be made aware of it, and while he may not agree right away, you wondered how long it would take for the sphere of influence to get to him too. The anticipatory grief (as your actual therapist called it, usually followed by anxiety) of waiting for someone you valued so much to realize that he had better options was enough to make you consider running away from the whole thing entirely.

And that’s how you came back to scheming your departure from the country. If you hurried, you could probably towel off, pack a bag, and slip out the back before Toji realized (you wondered if the big oaf had decided to take a nap instead of bringing you snacks for how long it’d been since you last heard him). Surely Nanami wouldn’t abandon you in your time of need if you were wailing at him over the phone in the airport of a foreign country.

But alas, you heard your bathroom door open, effectively cutting off any means of escape.

“It’s about time, Toji. What took you so long?” He neither spoke, nor took another step. “Eh, no matter. Bring me my snacks, please.”

Footsteps continued again and before you could chastise Toji further, a voice spoke up from right behind your privacy screen.

“Should I be concerned with the normalcy of your bodyguard attending to you while you’re naked in the bath?”

The shock of hearing Sukuna’s voice caused you to jolt, sending your legs into the water with an unmistakable splash and leaving you to scurry back into a sitting position from where you had slipped dangerously close to submerging your whole head underwater. The indecency of it all would kill you if this conversation that was about to happen didn’t.

“I assure you,” you started, hoping you didn’t sound as wrecked as you felt, “it is not nearly as salacious as you made it out to be.”

Sukuna hummed. “Really? Because it sounded as if you were expecting him, and when I ran into him downstairs he told me to tell you that he would be back up to deliver wine and cheese shortly. Sounds like a romantic evening to me if I’ve ever heard one.”

You were relieved to hear a hint of amusement in your boyfriend’s voice, but horrified at what he was saying.

“Please stop implying things that’ll make me gag.”

Sukuna chuckled, but was quiet for a minute until, “You have five seconds to tell me to stop before I move this privacy screen so we can talk face to face.”

You shot upwards, looking around hurriedly as you tried to scrape the remaining bubbles in the tub to strategic places in order to maintain your dignity, though you realized a moment later that it was probably unnecessary. With a second left, you brushed tendrils of your hair away from your face and wiped your thumb across the top of your lip to remove any remnants of a wine stain from your skin. In the next, Sukuna was pushing aside the privacy screen and looking down at you with a blank—but not unkind—expression. You eyed him warily as he walked up to the edge of the tub and dropped a cushion from the chaise Toji was sitting on earlier to the floor. He settled himself down onto it and then placed his elbow on the edge of the tub so he could lean in close to you.

“Hello,” you whispered to him, settling both your arms down next to his and then resting your head against them. A small smile crossed his face.

“Hello to you too.”

You were surprised at the lack of tension in his face, no clenched jaw or heavy brow to be seen, and as you trailed your eyes further down his torso you noticed its absence there too. His shoulders were relaxed, and his chin was cupped in the hand propped up on the tub so he could gaze at you with those unnervingly observant eyes of his. You wished he’d been wearing a t-shirt instead of the thin navy turtleneck he currently had on so you could focus your stare on the black tattoos decorating his body. Aside from being intricate, and distracting, they always gave you something to look at when meeting his eyes felt like too much.

The tenderness of Sukuna’s knuckles meeting your temple forced you to look back up at him, only to see that he was following the path his fingers were making over your skin. They grazed over your cheekbone, feathered down the bridge of your nose, and then were skimming over your mouth, his thumb catching ever so lightly on your bottom lip. His hand didn’t linger there, and it was quick to skate over your jaw before his thumb landed under your ear and the rest of his fingers tangled in your hair while his palm cupped your neck. With a slide of his other hand up your arm and down your back to press between your shoulder blades, Sukuna brought you close enough to him that he was able to reach the rest of the way over the tub and kiss you. His lips remained pressed against yours for a second or two before he broke away, hesitated, and then leaned in to do it once more, twice, and a third time.

You were the one that put space between the two of you, sitting back in the water and drawing your knees to your chest. You desperately needed to inhale without smelling the crispness of his aftershave or the spiced warmth of his cologne, both of which were guilty of making your head spin.

“You’re not mad at me?” you asked, breaking the silence before he had a chance to, before you lost your nerve. You watched as his head tilted slightly to one side, his expression a touch befuddled, but full of disbelief.

“Why would I be mad at you?” He questioned slowly, moving himself to his knees on the cushion so he could go back to resting his arms on the tub.

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t be,” you told him, your voice a bit sharp. “I inadvertently told anyone with access to the internet that we were dating, without even talking to you about it, and then proceeded to flee the scene like a coward instead of getting back out there to present myself as confident enough to own up to my mistakes. Not to mention the fall with Satoru right before. It’s embarrassing. The whole thing made us—me—look like a giant mess!”

Your voice cracked on the last word, and you bit down on the inside of your cheek until you tasted iron. Sukuna looked pained, and he reached a hand out to play with your fingers as they sat at the top of your knees.

“You’re not a mess,” he said, rubbing his thumb in small circles over the middle knuckle of one of your fingers, “and I’m not embarrassed either. I never intended to keep us a secret, and I’m not trying to implicate you when I say this, but I don’t think I ever implied doing so that evening.”

“Well, yeah,” you huffed, the twinkle in his ochre-brown eyes and the mischievous grin on his face as he hinted to the night the two of you cemented your relationship into the category of “official” making your face get warm, “we didn’t do a whole lot of talking after that point.”

You tried to jerk your hands out from under his to cover up your cheeks, but Sukuna was unrelenting in his hold, and you gave up before continuing on, “I know you never implied that you wanted to keep our relationship hidden, but that’s been the theme of whatever we’ve had going on these last ten months. We were sneaking around from the very beginning, we lied about it to Yuji and Choso, and then let’s not forget about the whole incident of being caught by Satoru,” you pointed out to him, feeling the slightest bit smug when he looked chagrined.

“I apologized for that,” he reminded you, his voice tone faintly defensive. You squeezed his hand in comfort.

“You did, and I’m not upset about it.”

You took a deep breath and cast your eyes everywhere except Sukuna, taking in the details of your bathroom as you tried to muster the courage to share your insecurities with him. He never let his attention on you deviate, and between that and the heat of the water you had been in for almost two hours, you were beginning to feel lightheaded, and everything finally came rushing out of your mouth.

“I feel like we’re mismatched! It feels like everytime someone looks at us, they’re going to wonder why, like we don’t fit well together. And I’m not saying I believe that, or that you would believe that, and I know this whole thing sounds ridiculous because it is ridiculous, but it’s hard to get outside of my own head about this when I already love you so mu—,”

The startled look on Sukuna’s face is what clued you in to the fact you had said something you had not intended to. You snapped your mouth shut with an audible click of your teeth and used your feet to push away from him and to the otherside of the tub, wrenching your hands out of his grasp.

If someone asked why you never liked to talk about your feelings, this was why. Why the words that came out were never as eloquent—or as sane—as the thoughts in your head was something you’d pay so much money to figure out. And Kento was about to have no choice in letting you hide out with him for the rest of his vacation because you were no longer asking, and if he was interested in keeping his job he would do so without complaint. Even so, you considered that forcibly releasing Kento from the grip of a career that was so wrought with overtime would be another mercy for the overworked sal—,

“You know what I think,” Sukuna murmured, bringing you out of your own head to focus with rapt attention on the blissfully contented expression he wore. His fingers curled around the tops of your arms as he reached out to slide you back to his side of the tub, and when you were close enough again, he pushed his nose into the plushness of your cheek to nuzzle there affectionately. You were transfixed by a small tan freckle on the edge of his eyebrow that you somehow hadn’t noticed before.

“I think this whole time you’ve been so focused on pleasing everyone around you—which isn’t necessarily unadmirable, I promise—and treading with extreme care to take into consideration my feelings about our relationship that you haven’t noticed what’s been going on…or I haven’t been doing a very satisfactory job of making it apparent.”

He said the last part more under his breath, but didn’t give you a chance to interject with an objection before he carried on, making intently sure your eyes were on his. “From the very beginning, even when all I had of you were fleeting touches and secret meetings in questionable places, I was always bound to fall in love with you.”

You didn’t know what to say, what to think, and trying to wrap your head around the fact that what you considered to be one of the worst days of your life was ending with unintentional confessions of love in your bathtub wasn’t helping. So you did what you could and traced a finger down one of the tattoos under his eyes, hoping he would keep talking.

“We aren’t a mismatched pair,” he insisted, his eyelids fluttering slightly at your gentle touch, “I think we compliment each other quite well, so please, don’t try to hide or run away.” He fixed you with a pointed look that told you Toji had warned him of your current status as a flight risk, and you ducked your head slightly and in a way that you hope conveyed repentance.

“Because you must know, I will always be chasing after you.”

You wasted no time in hurrying to crush your lips against his and throw your arms around his neck, because what else was there to do when words couldn’t suffice, other than to surrender to the melding of bodies?

Sukuna reciprocated in fervor, breaking apart from you only to stand up from his place on his knees, and reached down to cup his hands under your bottom, lifting you out of the tub and securing your thighs around his hips while his mouth found yours again.

He seemed to care not that you were dripping water on the floor and soaking the front of his clothes from where you were pressed tightly against him. He stumbled back a couple steps until the back of his knees made contact with the chaise, and the two of you fell back onto it. Sukuna adjusted you to straddle his lap, his hands clasping at your hips while your hands scrambled down his back to pull up his shirt. You ground your pelvis down against him as he dropped his head to mouth at your neck, and the rough groan that elicited from his throat had you deciding that your bed was too far away to justify taking time to separate, and that the convenience of the chaise was worth going to the trouble of having to buy Toji a new one. You had no more than let the thought flutter through your head when an obnoxiously loud knock resounded through the bathroom.

“You two haven’t drowned yet, have you?”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Sukuna ripped his lips away from where he was sucking a mark into the space where your shoulder blended into your neck, and met your gaze with one that dared you to intervene.

“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, using the grip he still had on your waist to hold you in place while he rolled his hips up into yours, and you prayed that the moan you let out wasn’t as loud as it sounded. Even if it was, you hoped Toji would get the hint and make himself scarce.

“Look, I get it,” your bodyguard remarked, sounding both amused and vaguely uncomfortable, “but it’s kinda, maybe important.”

With both the mood dashed and your anxiety spiked again, you patted Sukuna on the shoulder in a bid to get him to let you slide off his lap. He rolled his eyes, exasperation—and lustful desperation—painted clearly on his face, but he helped you down without giving you any grief and grabbed a black fluffy robe from where it was draped over your privacy screen. He held it out so you could thread your arms through it, and then he proceeded to tie the belt securely around your waist.

“Come in, Toji,” you called, moving to sit on the chaise while Sukuna came to stand at your back.

Your bodyguard waited a moment before opening the door, peeking his head around first and then sauntering in with his normal arrogance to lean against your bathroom counter just a couple feet in front of you.

“Glad to see that nobody’s drowned. There’s only one of you I’d be willing to do mouth-to-mouth on,” Toji joked, clearly proud of what he had come up with. You felt Sukuna’s hands come to rest on the tops of your shoulders, his fingertips digging into the muscles lightly. They relaxed when you bought one of your hands up to twine your fingers with his.

“So, to what do we owe the interruption?” you asked. The amusement on Toji’s face vanished, and in its place came weariness.

“I just got off the phone with Nanami, and—,”

“You called him?!” You yelped, springing up from your seat, “I begged you not to!”

“Whoa, Whoa,” Toji cautioned, raising his hands up in a surrender, “easy with the accusations. He called me. He knew.” And before you could open your mouth to ask how, Toji’s expression darkened and his eyes flicked up over you to glare at Sukuna. “Uraume called him.”

You whirled around to look at Sukuna, who—thankfully—seemed just as surprised by the news as you did.

“I didn’t ask them to do that,” he assured you, then turned to Toji, “did Nanami say what they wanted?”

“Just to talk about the whole situation, more or less. Nanami said they only talked for about ten minutes, but they’re planning to discuss things more when he comes back in five or six days.” Your bodyguard sighed and crossed his legs as he leaned back further against your counter. “He was nearly ready to hop on the first plane home, but I managed to convince him to finish his vacation. Told him it’d damn near break your heart if he came back early.”

You plopped back down on the chaise, bone tired and completely ready for this whole day to be over.

“Thank you, Toji. I’m sorry for jumping down your throat like that.”

“Don’t sweat it, Princess,” he said, pulling a vaguely familiar set of keys out from his pocket and pushing himself off the counter to walk towards the door. “You two going to be okay if I head out? I have some errands to run and then I’ll probably crash at Megumi’s tonight instead of the staff quarters.”

You nodded at him, sending him off with a wave before shifting to look back at Sukuna.

“Stay with me?” you pleaded. He answered with a kiss to your hair, and then offered his arm so you could stand from the chaise. He followed after you into your bedroom, and the faint flutter of clothing made you glance back over your shoulder. Your heart began to race at the sight of his bare chest, tattoos displayed in full glory. You must have made some kind of noise because he looked up at you from where he was draping his shirt over the back of a lounging chair in the corner of your room.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said sheepishly, “my clothes are wet.”

You shook your head, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as you watched the muscles in his back flex as he bent down to push his jeans to the floor, leaving him in simple grey underwear. There must have been something written all over your face as he began to walk towards you, for he was reaching out to pull you into him as soon as he got close enough.

“I’m tired, Sukuna,” you warned as he pressed your cheek to his chest, though you wondered if you could muster up the energy to continue where the two of you had left off in the bathroom. Surely he would make it worth your while.

“I know,” he told you, voice light and good-natured, and he tightened his arms around you briefly before stepping back and nodding in the direction of your bed, “why don’t you go get comfortable. Toji left your snacks on your dresser. Want to finish them off before bed?”

With a grateful nod, you turned to leap onto your bed, sitting down in the middle and wiggling with excitement as Sukuna came to join you. He sat the tray of food and wine in between the two of you and crossed his legs underneath himself before picking up a piece of cheese and offering it to you. You smiled in thanks and began to nibble on it while he surveyed his options.

“Mhm,” you started, an errant thought popping into your head, “I’m assuming since Uraume knows that Yuji and Choso know now as well?” Sukuna raised his head slowly from where he had been studying the various snacks, and the hint of guilt on his face wasn’t confidence inspiring.

“They do,” he drew out, observing you carefully, “they were both watching the interview with me.”

You groaned as white-hot embarrassment flooded your body, and you fell back against your pillows, grabbing one to shove over your face to muffle the bitter laughter you couldn’t control. “What do they think?”

“It’s nothing you should be worrying about,” Sukuna said, suddenly sitting by your head and lifting the pillow off your face to set it above your head, “you know they adore you. Choso was his normal, level-headed self. He’s happy for us. Yuji was just as ecstatic once he got his laughter under control, if a bit disappointed that we hadn’t told him.” Your boyfriend paused, his face darkening suddenly, and you watched with interest as a muscle feathered in his jaw.

“What?” you asked, pushing yourself back into a sitting position and poking him in the arm to urge him to explain. He shook his head, clearly annoyed.

“You know what that little shit said immediately after? He thought that you and Gojo had been secretly dating and were waiting till after your movie was over to say anything.”

Obnoxious laughter erupted from you, and you hurried to slap your hands over your mouth to try to conceal it as Sukuna’s face fell.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you rasped out in between giggles, unable to stop it as you watched Sukuna sit back against your pillows with a huff and a crossing of his arms.

“The little idiot is just dense. And delusional. Anyone could see that you and the q-tip don’t have any real chemistry.” He sounded an awful lot like he was trying to convince himself of the truthfulness of his own statement. You wondered, affectionately, at which brother was a touch deluded. You were a fine actor, thank you very much. And you were about to open your mouth and say so when something ‘plinked’ off the window next to your bed.

Strange. Your bedroom was on the second floor.

Sukuna jerked his head up, all traces of humor forgotten, and the two of you listened for the noise again.

Plink.

“What the hell,” he muttered, pushing off the bed so he could go inspect the noise, “stay right there.”

You appreciated the concern in his voice as he began to lift the window pane open, and he had just begun to stick his head out to look around when something small smacked him right between the eyes, sending him butt-first to the floor.

“Sukuna!” you gasped, rushing over to kneel by his side and lift his hand from where he had it pressed to his forehead. You didn’t get a chance to fawn over him any further before he was up on his feet and striding to your bedroom door.

“Be right back,” he growled, throwing the door open and cursing all the way down the stairs.

You heard something land next to you on the floor, utterly perplexed when it turned out to be a rock from your flower beds. You got up and tiptoed over to the window, just barely lifting your head over the pane as to avoid becoming another victim of a flying projectile, then shot to your feet when you caught sight of a familiar white-haired costar outside beneath your window.

“Satoru!” You screeched, dumbfounded by his mere presence and the way he waved up at you, completely unbothered, “How in the world did you get through the gate?!”

“Hey! There you are!” He called, with a lazy grin on his face, “that’s not really important right now.”

“I would disagree!” You yelled back down to him, making a mental note to have Toji go over all the security points around your property after his day off. “What are you doing here?”

Satoru laughed sarcastically before the smile on his face suddenly disappeared, and he propped his hands up on his hips. “Where is my car?”

No. Way.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Satoru.”

“Nope! Give me back my car. It’s one of a kind!”

You groaned, reaching up to massage the burgeoning headache you could feel at your temples. “Are you sure it’s not out there in the driveway? Toji left just a bit ago, so you shouldn’t be boxed in or—,” you cut off when the memory of your bodyguard twirling an unfamiliar set of his keys around his finger as he left your bathroom flashed across your memory.

Oh god, that absolute bastard.

Satoru must have caught the horrified look on your face, as well as how you suddenly stopped talking after mentioning Toji because his face blanched even paler than usual, and his voice was two octaves higher in distress when he hollered back up at you.

“Does that criminal have my car?!”

You deserved a vacation at this point.

“I’ll call him in the morning, Satoru, I promise. And I’ll make sure he washes it for you or whatever you want, just come back tomorrow.” You hoped placating him with the prospect of torturing Toji would convince him to leave, but no, he still stood rooted to his spot down below.

“As fun as that sounds,” he mocked back up at you, “I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

He looked a bit like a toddler caught with his hand somewhere it shouldn’t be. “Suguru dropped me off and then left in a hurry. He said he had something to do.”

You couldn’t believe that the universe thought that pairing those two together in any capacity was worth the absolute chaos they unleashed on the poor, unsuspecting population.

The slamming of your front door caught your attention, and you figured your boyfriend was about to make himself known.

“Look,” you sighed, backing away from the window slightly, “you can borrow one of my cars and swap it tomorrow when Toji brings yours.” You ignored Satoru’s protests and started to close the window. “Just apologize to Sukuna for hitting him between the eyes with a rock and he’ll open the garage for you.”

You caught the confusion on Satoru’s face, and just barely heard his panicked remark as you shut the window.

“Oh, fu—.”

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Whew, that one took it out of me, not gonna lie. Angst and I are not friends.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you

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mizkit · 2 months

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new blog post: not dead! busy month, tho

new blog post on https://mizkit.com/not-dead-busy-month-tho/

not dead! busy month, tho

Iiiiiii…have been meaning to post, and just not doing it because I’ve been working, and don’t want to distract myself from work. But! I got an extension on the book so I’m going to take a minute to do a short blog.

I went to Eastercon the last weekend of March, and it was WONDERFUL, but I haven’t had enough time to blog about it. Hopefully next week when I’m done with this book, which…

I’m ALMOST done with the 6th Dublin Driver book. There I was, 60K into a 70K book, the end in sight, but…it was Messed Up. Not terribly badly Messed Up, but enough that I was really frustrated with it. I knew it wouldn’t take TOO MUCH to fix, and that I COULD do it in the remaining four days or whatever that I had, but I would be stressed and miserable. So I emailed my editor to ask for a week extension, which I had Zero Doubt she would give me (because it’s not like they drop everything to read the book the moment it lands on their desk), and then I spent the rest of last week…

…falling asleep over the manuscript.

GOD I hate editing, guys. It’s so boring. I find it so difficult to read my own work for edits. I don’t mind reading it for FUN (especially well after the fact), but for edits, when I’m trying to do a close read, looking for problems, my GOD it’s dull. Even if I’m like “Okay! Let’s do this! Lots of energy and mental preparation! It’s all good!” then ten minutes later I’m like “snxxxxxt.”

But I finally managed to get through it, and it really is mostly okay, which I knew. It’s just there was some stuff that needed shoring up and some other stuff that needed paring down, and a number of things that needed me to figure out what the hell I was doing, and I think I’ve done all that now.

So I’ve spent this week going through my notes again and again, gradually shoring up the storyline, figuring out where things could be shoved in, and I tell you what, guys, it always feels REALLY AWKWARDLY SHOVED IN when I’m finding places to add stuff, but then once it’s there I’m like “oh yeah that works fine.” I deleted about 2k from the book in one fell swoop, but have also put that much back into it with new/stronger/more useful scenes, so now that I’ve finally got all the support structure in, I’m actually a leeeeeetle beet ahead of where I was in terms of wordcount. I’m not any farther in terms of reaching the end, except now all the bits I need to make the end actually work are there, so I guess it’s all in how you slice it.

I’m going to try to finish it over the weekend, which will make the second weekend of this month I’ve worked, which is lousy, but I really want to finish so I can, er, you know, write another novella and a book proposal by the end of April.

Totally normal goals, guys. Totally normal.

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fruitcoops · 2 years

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Omggg eveee so I was rereading the fluffy dorlene fic (because those queens make my heart so happyyyy) and I was wondering if you could write a fic about their engagement?? Like how it happened??? Lots of loveeee 💖💖💖💖

The ladies <33 I want what they're having, please. SW credit to @lumosinlove, as always!

Marlene was rather pissed off, actually.

She let out a huff of frustration as the computer screen dimmed and a battery warning popped up in the lower corner—her eye burned when she scrubbed at it.

Her hand came away streaked with eyeliner. “Fuck.”

Another ambulance—the third in an hour—went wailing past. Marlene instinctively reached into her bag and bit back another curse. Her heavy, comforting, blessedly noise-canceling headphones were still on her kitchen counter, forgotten in the morning rush. Marlene closed her eyes and clonked her forehead on the edge of her desk just to feel something.

Wrapping paper brushed her fingertips as she dragged herself upright again and she sighed. One hour. She only had to make it through one more hour of the worst day of her life before she could go home to her cats, her headphones, and hopefully her beautiful girlfriend, if work didn’t drag on too long. Gentle hands and a loud voice would be waiting—Marlene stared at the picture next to her laptop and wondered how many kisses it would take to make her feel better.

Honestly, she would cherish just one at this point.

They would make dinner together, something they hadn’t had time for in over a month. Preseason games were media gold and Marlene and Dorcas were the poor miners sent to dig out every last pebble of it, leaving them with disjointed takeout to eat in their respective offices. But they would dance, and eat, and then Marlene would kiss her in the candlelight and slide the small box across the table. Dorcas would smile, torn between bashfulness and pure excitement, and the necklace would look just as pretty around her neck as she deserved. She had been working so hard and come home so tired almost every night; Marlene wanted to give her something special to mark three years of a shining light in her life. Something Dorcas could keep with her even on those grueling 14-hour days.

Her laptop chimed at her again. She groaned, digging around for the charger, and the sudden surge of brightness when she plugged it in made her exhausted retinas scream in protest. In the two minutes she had spent daydreaming, ten more emails demanding her attention had arrived. “Fuck you, fuck you, especially fuck you,” she muttered as she scrolled through. “You’re an asshole, you’re a misogynist, you’re only emailing me because Arthur stopped responding to you…”

She was able to delete 13 (13!) messages. 26 remained unanswered, watching her in silent judgement. 42 minutes remained on the clock. The endless slog of forwarding and cc’ing everyone and their mother stood on the horizon, taunting her. Marlene cracked her knuckles and buckled down.

Fuckers.

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

10 minutes and 3 emails from Rita goddamn Skeeter later, Marlene slammed her laptop closed and shoved it in her bag. “I’m done,” she said aloud to the little crocheted triceratops next to her pictures. “This is going to be hell later. I don’t care. I’m going to go home to my girlfriend and make a nice anniversary dinner and not think about other people’s problems for the rest of the weekend. Not my circus, not my fucking monkeys.”

The triceratops said nothing. Marlene swallowed down a shriek of frustration and snatched her keys off the wall hook. It was her circus, and they were technically her monkeys, but they could handle a couple days of being ignored.

They were spoiled monkeys, anyway.

The office was mostly quiet as she made her way through at a brisk pace, keeping her eyes fixed ahead. At least she could feign ignorance if anyone tried to flag down her attention. She would go to the parking lot first and drop off her things, then the studio to check on Dorcas—if she was still working, Marlene would try to gently coax her into coming home early. If she wasn’t, that was one good thing amongst the cesspool of the rest of her day.

“Marlene!” Nope. “Marlene, can you check this for me?”

“I’m clocking out,” she called without so much as a glance over her shoulder. Footsteps hurried down the hall after her and she fought the urge to break into a run.

“It’s kind of important,” Sam panted, jogging slightly to catch up.

Marlene kept her jaw stubbornly set. “I think Ellen is still in, she can handle it.”

“But—”

“It’s my anniversary tonight.” She stabbed the elevator button with her index finger, then turned to Sam with a strained smile. “I’m going home. I will be back on Monday morning, and I would be happy to talk about whatever it is with you then, alright?”

Sam hesitated for half a second. “There’s this weird glitch in the system right now.”

“I’m not the IT department,” Marlene said tiredly. The elevator pinged, and she stepped inside without a backward look.

The car stopped on every single floor; twice, nobody was even waiting outside. Finn O’Hara joined her on the fourth floor, mildly flushed and out of breath for no discernable reason. “Little late for a run,” she noted, checking her phone.

“Oh, y’know, just wanted to cool down after practice,” Finn said with a tug to the hem of his shirt. The elevator came to a halt at the third floor—the doors opened to nothing, yet again, and Finn pitched forward. His hand smacked into the floor numbers and Marlene felt something in her heart wither and die as the last two buttons lit up like tiny distress beacons.

“Harzy,” she groaned, unable to stop herself.

He offered a sheepish smile. “Oops. How’s your Friday been?”

“Hellish,” she answered shortly. “Yours?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Can’t complain. It’s date night, so I’m headed straight home after this.”

Marlene wondered whether it was worth it to just take the stairs instead. She decided against it after a moment; the risk of being sidetracked by someone else looking for a warm body to whine at was too high. At least Finn would chat without looking for a response.

“How’s D?” he asked as the door opened and closed on the second floor, showing an empty hall before the next row of offices. “It’s your anniversary, right?”

Marlene looked up in surprise. “How’d you know that?”

“I have my ways.”

“You’ve got your nose in everyone’s business,” she teased with an elbow to his ribs. He feigned agony and drew a laugh out of her that eased the knot of worry and frustration in her stomach, leaving a bubbly sort of fondness in its place. Dorcas was a good topic. Nobody could be cranky while thinking about Dorcas. “She’s good. Busy. I think we’re both excited for a little break tonight.”

“Taking the weekend, too?” He glanced at his phone and bit back a smile.

“What?” When Finn just shook his head, Marlene elbowed him again. “What?”

“Look who’s nosey, now,” he fired back with a grin, jostling her. “But no, it’s just Knutty.”

“Sappy.”

“Says the woman getting ready for an anniversary dinner.”

Marlene narrowed her eyes playfully. “Watch it, O’Hara. You’re a walking blooper reel and I’ve got evidence.”

The elevator door opened with a friendly ping and they stepped out together, heading toward opposite ends of the building. “See you Monday, McKinnon!” Finn called over his shoulder with a mock-salute.

“Drive safe!” She turned, nearly bumping headfirst into a broad chest. “Oh!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Dumo said in a rush, holding his mug out of the way as the tea inside sloshed right up to the rim. “Did I spill on you?”

Marlene frowned at her shirt. “No, I think I’m—”

“I definitely did,” he tsked, looping an arm through her own seamlessly. “I should have been watching where I was going. Do you have an extra shirt?”

“No, I—”

“Your lockers are over here, ouais?”

He guided her down the opposite hall from the exit with gentle, firm hands—Marlene cast a look back toward the door with mounting despair. “Dumo, it’s not that big of a deal—”

“It’s no trouble, really,” he assured her, steering her by the elbows. “I’m just so clumsy.”

“I’m going home anyway,” she tried. If she squinted, she could almost see the corner of her car through the front window, fading from view. Marlene sighed. “It’s my anniversary, and honestly I just want to go home, so don’t even worry about the… the…”

Dumo released her and stepped away as she stopped cold and stared ahead, dumbstruck, her mouth hanging slightly open. “Hey, baby,” Dorcas said, biting her lower lip around a smile.

“The shirt,” Marlene finished lamely as her throat constricted. “Don’t worry about the shirt.”

The studio was beautiful—all the green screens and gear had been cleared away to make room for her favorite picnic blanket with a large wicker basket on one edge and pillows along another. Fairy lights looped through the pipes and eaves, casting a warm glow over the whole room.

And in the center of it all was Dorcas, kneeling with her hand outstretched and something sparkly in her fingers.

Marlene blinked once, just to make sure it was real. Then twice, because her vision was getting blurry and there was nothing in the world that was allowed to mask the sunshine smile that had made her life better for three full years. And then she burst into tears.

“Oh, love,” Dorcas hummed as she stood and closed the space between them, wrapping Marlene in a hug as warm as Sunday morning.

“I love you,” Marlene managed, half-laughing, half-crying while she wiped her cheeks dry to little avail. “I love you so much, what the fuck? What is this?”

“Did you see the—”

“I saw it.” Her heart leapt and she clutched the back of Dorcas’ sundress, splaying one hand between her shoulder blades. She was so soft. So lovely. So wonderful. Marlene caught her lips in a kiss, tugging on the lower one when she pulled back just enough to whisper, “yes.”

Dorcas nuzzled their noses together, but Marlene felt a shiver run through her beneath her hands. “I didn’t even ask yet.”

“Yes, I will marry you,” Marlene murmured as she draped her arms over beautiful broad freckled fantastic shoulders and drew her in for another kiss. Dorcas’ lipstick tasted like mint.

“Still didn’t ask.” The hand on her lower back rubbed a slow circle, taking her tension with it.

Marlene grinned, nipping Dorcas’ lip to startle a laugh out of her. “Get on with it, Meadowes, I’m impatient.”

“I love you,” Dorcas said as she trailed kisses up Marlene’s cheek and sent butterflies rioting through her stomach. “I love you, I adore you, you’re ridiculous, and I couldn’t make it without you.”

Marlene sighed into their next kiss and combed her fingers through the underside of Dorcas’ dark hair. “Ask, and I’m yours forever.”

Dorcas rested their foreheads together; her eyes crinkled with the force of her joy. “Marlene McKinnon, studio genius and light of my heart, will you marry me?”

Marlene held her close and took a deep breath, tilting her head until their lips brushed. “Dorcas Meadowes, sunshine of my life, I think I just might.”

A giggle broke free of Dorcas’ chest and Marlene’s feet left the ground as they spun in a circle, the edges of Dorcas’ sundress fluttering around her legs until she dipped Marlene down for a kiss that stole the air from her lungs and poured elation in its place. A cheer went up behind them—she paid it no mind, too focused on kissing her fiancée until neither of them could wait any longer and cool metal slipped over Marlene’s ring finger. A small blue sapphire glinted in the amber light. She felt a little like crying again.

“I love you,” she said as they righted themselves but made no move to part. “I love you, let’s go get married.”

“Right now?” Dorcas laughed, tangling her hand in Marlene’s curls to kiss her again.

“Right now,” Marlene confirmed. “We’ll fly to—mmm—Vegas or some shit, I don’t even care, I need you to be my wife right now.”

A deep blush bloomed over Dorcas’ face and she ducked into the crook of Marlene’s neck with a stifled noise. “Your wife,” she mumbled as they swayed. “Jesus Christ, I want to hear that every day.”

“I can do that,” Marlene said happily, dragging her up to press a dozen more kisses across the bridge of her pointed nose. People were still clapping behind them—she could hear Finn hooting and hollering, the little sneak—and she raised one hand to blindly shoo them off before returning it to the base of Dorcas’ neck where her pulse hammered just as hard as Marlene’s own.

“I was so nervous,” she said, breathless, as if she could read Marlene’s mind. “I don’t know why, but I was. Loops made me do deep breathing so I didn’t pass out.”

Marlene’s whole face hurt from smiling. “How many of them did you enlist?”

“So many,” Dorcas answered through her laughter. “Anyone I could find. I think I owe Sam a fruit basket now, and I made poor Harzy run five flights of stairs so you didn’t get here early—”

“I knew he was up to something.”

“Of course you did.” Dorcas cupped her face in her hands; tears brimmed in her deep brown eyes and Marlene swiped one off her cheekbone with the pad of her thumb. Beloved, her heart said in a rhythm she knew well. “Of course you did, you’re so fucking smart and I love it and I want it always.”

Marlene turned to press a kiss to the edge of her trembling palm. She didn’t care how badly the week had gone, or that her inbox was overflowing, or about anything but the beautiful woman in front of her that was going to be her wife. Her wife. It was the best day of her life. Simply the best day. “You can have it.”

#marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #dorlene #finn ohara #pascal dumais #sweater weather #vaincre #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #engagement

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marvelous-harry · 3 years

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okay so i have a prompt where y/n is harry's assistant + his submissive and one day she fucks something up and harry is super mad. he punishes her and is mean dom after. bonus if y/n cries and begs🙈🙈🙈🙈

Email Fuck Ups Harry/Fem!Reader Words: 1.2k Warning: Dom!Harry, Sub!Reader, Derogatory nicknames, face slapping, spanking, face fucking. Summary: After a spelling mistake causes delays Harry is very unhappy and punishes you in his set trailer.

“I need a word, excuse us,” Harry said sharply as he clamped his fingers around my arm tightly and dragged me along. I smiled apologetically at the other PA I’d been talking to and figured she off all people would understand.

“I’ve just been asked by Jeff if I’d forgotten to record an acceptance video for the Juno Awards cause they just reached out to him asking for it. It was supposed to be sent in days ago, did you forget to send it in?” Harry hissed as he walked us over to his trailer and unlocked it before pushing me inside.

“What? No, I sent it in, I swear!” I told him quickly as I put my bag down and reached for my laptop. “I sent it, I know I did,” I whispered as I begged my computer to work faster and that they had to be mistaken cause I definitely had sent it in. I glanced at Harry. His whole body was tensed up and the 50’s shirt he was wearing looked like it was going to break from Harry tightened his muscles so much. He was pissed, that much was obvious.

Opening my work email, I clicked on sent messages and was delighted to see that the email was there. “See?! I sent it! Five days ago, one day before it was supposed to be in for clearing!” I bragged as I clicked on the email, turning the laptop so Harry could see.

Harry grabbed it and scanned the page quickly. I saw him take a deep breath before he turned the laptop back to me before pointing at the email address. “Does that look right to you?” he asked in a way too calm voice.

Looking over the email address it didn’t take long to see that the last part clearly had a spelling mistake in it. I whimpered. “I’m sorry, Sir. I’ll fix it and apologize for the delay. I can call them right now,”

“Just create a new email, get it ready to send, and let me look it over since you can’t be trusted to do your actual job right,” Harry crossed his arms over his chest and looked at me expectantly.

“Yes, Sir,” I replied quietly as I quickly drafted up an apology and included the video file. After triple-checking the email, I turned the screen towards Harry again and let him look it over as I quickly dried my eyes.

Harry clicked send on the email and waited a few seconds to make sure it sent before closing the laptop shut. “Bend over the table,”

Getting up from my seat, I bent over the table and grasped the edges of it as I rested my cheek down on the cold wood surface. “I’m really sorry I messed up, Sir,” I told him as Harry yanked my jeans and underwear down.

“Not as sorry you’re going to be in a bit,” Harry said as he put one hand on my lower back. “Don’t scream,” he warned me before bringing his hand down hard.

Whimpering, I clenched my mouth shut as I struggled to keep quiet. I was certain that the sound of Harry hitting my bum so hard with his large hands was echoing through the whole set and everyone would know what was going on. Shuddering at the thought, I hated that it made my pussy wet.

“Are you getting fucking turned on right now? You that much of a whore that me beating your ass red and blue gets you going?” Harry spat out as he landed an extra hard smack on my bum.

Gasping as he moved his hand between my legs and embarrassingly easily slid two fingers into me, I closed my eyes and moaned. “Sir!”

“Fucking slut. Get down on your knees,” Harry ordered as he yanked his fingers out, gave me another hard smack before stepping back.

Licking my lips, I kept my eyes down as I, as gracefully as I could, got down on my knees in front of him.

“Should just keep you on your knees all day, you’re a lot better at being a toy I can use than you are an assistant. All you’re good for isn’t it?” Harry said as he opened his trousers and got his cock out. “Open your mouth,”

Opening my mouth wide, I moved towards his cock eagerly as I wanted to taste the little drop of precum that was resting on the slit of his cock. Whining as Harry gripped onto my hair and forced my head back, I looked up at him pleadingly.

“Did I say you could take me in your mouth?” He asked, tightening his hold on my hair.

“No, Sir,” I whimpered, tensing as he raised his hand and stroked my cheek.

“I know it must be hard for a dumb little slut like you to control yourself around cock, but at least try,” Harry said before pulling his hand off my cheek a few centimeters before slapping me.

Gasping as the pain and the pleasure from the slap made me shudder once more, I barely had a second to prepare as Harry shoved his cock into my mouth. Moaning, I tried to relax my throat as Harry gripped my head tightly with both hands and started fucking my mouth.

“Fucking made for this I swear,” Harry groaned as he pulled me down on his cock. Gagging as he hit the back of my throat, I dug my fingernails into my skin as I struggled to pull back. Heaving for my breath as Harry pulled back, I looked up at him as strings of saliva hung from my lips to his cock.

“More?” I asked as I wiped the tears off my cheek and looked at his cock eagerly.

Harry just smirked as he shoved his cock back in and started thrusting fast in and out.

The trailer got filled with the most obscene sounds as Harry fucked my throat. Glugging, sucking, gagging sounds mixed with both our moans creating a symphony of porn noises. I was so fucking wet but I didn’t dare move my hand anywhere near my throbbing pussy knowing that Harry would very much not approve.

As my nose was roughly pressed up against his pubes again, my eyes watered and my throat closed around his cock making me gag even more but he wasn’t letting me go. Harry did a few short but forceful thrusts as I heard him groan loudly as he cummed down my throat.

Feeling faint as he pulled out and let me go, I looked at him as he cleaned off his cock and put it back in his pants. Whimpering as he grasped my cheeks hard, I looked up at him wondering what was next.

“Clean yourself up, you look filthy. When I come back to get you, you better be dressed, packed up to go, and have prepped your ass for me cause I’m going to fuck you as soon as we get home no matter if you’re ready or not. Does your little whore brain understand the words I’m saying to you?” Harry asked.

I tried to nod in his firm grip. “Yes, Sir,” I managed to mumble out. “Good whore,” Harry replied as he patted my cheek patronizingly and let me go before checking himself in the mirror before leaving the trailer.

Crawling over to the mirror, I looked myself over and loved how wrecked and used I looked. Stroking my hand over my bum cheeks, I moaned at the pain and how warm they felt. “Fuck,” I whispered as I tore my hands away before deciding to find the buttplug I was made to carry around, already looking forward to Harry finishing work.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles smut #harry styles imagines #harry styles blurbs #harry styles kink #harry styles x reader #harry x reader #dom!harry #dom!harry styles

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

Text

𝐷𝑖𝑙𝑓!𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑆𝑒𝑥 𝑇𝑎𝑝𝑒 𝐺𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝐿𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑑 (𝑅𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑)

Warnings: NSFW content. Aged up/Older Ateez but age differences are still within legal boundaries. Allusions to infidelity. Also contains major spoiler for the dilf!Yeosang fic.

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

"Hongjoong? Hongjoong baby?"

You lightly tapped his cheek in an effort to wake him up from his nap on the couch. Fluttering his eyes open, he yawned softly, almost an exact replica of how your son often would.

"What? Is it dinnertime already?" He asked while sitting up.

"Almost, but I noticed your phone was going crazy with notifications so I thought it must be something important."

Kissing his sleepy face, you chuckled and returned to the kitchen before anything accidentally burned. Fixing his hair, Hongjoong picked up his phone to see about 10 missed calls, 20 unread messages and a dozen emails all from different people, most of them from his fellow teachers at the university. Scanning through the first few, Hongjoong became wide awake and immediately began looking back to see the email he had sent right before going to sleep.

"Ok food is- what's going on?" You noticed how agitated he looked.

"Um...well.... funny story. You know how I was supposed to send in my report to the administration? I might have accidentally attached the wrong file on there.." He sheepishly admitted to you.

By his tone, you knew it was probably something serious.

"Ok and what was the file?"

Hongjoong grabbed your arm and placed you next to him.

"You're gonna want to be seated for this."

Hongjoong opened the file and held the phone out for you to see. You widened your eyes as you saw it was the old video he had taken of you sucking him off for the first time when you were at the university. You couldn't help the tiny grin tugging your lips as your loud slurping sounds blasted through the speakers.

"Fuck! Miss Y/N, do you really enjoy sucking cock so much?" Hongjoong's raspy voice was heard on the background, one of his hands holding the back of your head to plunge your mouth further down onto his length. You were seen moaning dramatically as you pulled away slightly, drool falling down your chin.

"I used to, but now I think I'll only love sucking cocks that are as big as yours." You winked as your hand pumped along his shaft, your tongue coming out to swirl around his head.

"Still think a pretty young thing like me can't take a cock like yours Mr. Kim?"

Getting so flustered, Hongjoong stopped the video and ran a hand through his hair as he waited for your outburst. When you were silent for a while, he looked over and was confused to see you smiling.

"I can't believe you kept that after all this time." You giggled as your hands cupped his cheeks.

"Well I.... I just like reminiscing about the old times when you used to give me the best suck of my life."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean used to Kim Hongjoong?"

Hongjoong flushed even more when you came down and sat in front of him as you began pulling his pants down.

"I can still give a blowjob that'll leave you breathless."

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

"Well it seems your wife and her lawyer have decided to stoop low in methods to stop the divorce from happening."

Seonghwa's lawyer seemed uneasy about telling you guys about it.

"What did that witch do now?" Seonghwa could already feel a headache coming.

"She submitted a video for the judge and other attorneys to view and hopefully use against you.. but the nature of it...... well it's not exactly something we can show in the courtroom but most of us lawyers have unfortunately seen it."

Leaving the laptop open and sliding it forward to you both, the lawyer stood up and cleared his throat.

"I thought perhaps you two would want to take a look and decide what you'll want to do after this." The poor man left the room, feeling embarrased for you.

You were the one who leaned forward to press play. Seonghwa and you stiffened in your seats when you saw it was an old video you had taken during one of the nights he often went over to your place after one of the many fights he'd have with his wife.

"How did she even get a hold of this?" You asked but you weren't really paying attention to your question and neither was Seonghwa, both of you just watched the screen in front of you, seeing the erotic action unfold.

"Shit! Look at you, all stuffed to the brim with my cum, it's leaking out of you."

Your body jolted underneath Seonghwa as his hips once again slammed into yours, your body aching from the overstimulation he had already been giving you for the past hour but you didn't want him to stop, even after he had cum inside you three times already.

"Keep my cum inside your body my little slut. Don't drop any of it out." His voice was raspy and hoarse as he continued his merciless pounding into you.

You looked like a mess by then, your face was buried on the pillow, nails nearly tearing the sides of it and even though it was muffled, your screams of pleasure could still be distinguished through it.

"I'm gonna breed you my little bunny. Stuff your little hole until you're carrying my babies."

Yanking your hair, Seonghwa pulled you so your back was pressed against his chest.

"Cause that's what you promised me right? You promised you'd let fuck my babies in you right?" He cooed as he nipped at your neck.

You whimpered loudly and nodded at him, tears falling out of your eyes.

"Yes! Please! Breed me Mr. Park. I wanna get fucked with your babies." You begged him, your face scrunching up as another orgasm was being pulled out of you.

Seonghwa and you sat there silently after watching all that, taking it all in. It was him who broke the ice by spinning his chair to you and looking all too smug.

"Well I did knock you up didn't I?"

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

Yunho calmly scrolled over the messages in the group chat he had with his friends, all of them bragging or retelling about what they had done over the course of their vacation.

"What'd you do Yunho?" "Something boring probably."

He rolled his eyes at Jongho's sense of humor.

"I actually had a lot of fun at the waterpark with Y/N and my son. I even have a cute video of it."

Scrolling through his gallery, he didn't realize he accidentally clicked on the wrong video thinking it was the one you took as your son was learning to swim. Confidently pressing send, Yunho waited for them to coo over his boy as they always did when anyone shared pictures of their kids.

"Um.... Yunho? What exactly am I watching?" Seonghwa asked while Hongjoong just replied with a shocked faced emoji.

"Damn, did you have fun turning that bed of yours into a waterpark?" Wooyoung added with a winky face emoji.

Wondering what the hell they were talking about, Yunho opened the video he sent and his face fell when he realized what it actually was that he had sent.

"Yu-Yunho.... too big. I can't." You whimpered pathetically on his screen, your hands rubbing along where his bulge poked out on your abdomen.

"Yes you can baby, you've taken all of me before." He reminded you as he slowly stuffed more of his cock inside you until he bottomed out and his cock was enveloped in your walls.

"There? You see. Your tight pussy can fit me just fine."

Feeling so full yet not having him move inside you, you began whining and clenched around him.

"Yunho, please fuck my tight pussy. I wanna get destroyed by your cock. Please." You begged him.

"Awww do you want me to fuck you dumb with my huge cock? Is that what you want?" His mocking tone was unmistakable even if his face wasn't shown.

"I'm gonna fuck you til you're crying baby, don't say you didn't ask for this."

The rest of the video transpired with his grunts and your whimpering. Yunho's cock disappeared in and out of you at a brutal pace, one of his large hands holding you down so you couldn't move away from him. He ripped orgasm after orgasm out of you until your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you began squirting all over the sheets.

"Fuckfuckfuck! Yunho!" You cried out, unable to stop shaking as he just continued his pace and made you squirt all over again.

"That's it. Be a good girl and squirt more for me. By the time I'm done, all you're gonna remember is this feeling of me breaking you."

Yunho was giggling out of embarrassment now that he knew what his friends saw.

"All of you delete this right now and pretend it never happened."

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

Yeosang looked down beyond the railing on top of the staircase. Although he should have been horrified, disgusted or the slightest bit sad, his face showed absolutely no emotion whatsoever. He just looked at the scene with no remorse, no emotion and nothing at all.

"Sir?" His trusted butler immediately came up, hands behind his back as he awaited for any instructions

"Take care of this Damian. And make sure no one knows about this. If anyone else knows.... take care of them too." He ordered.

The proper English butler let out a chilling smile as he adjusted his cuff links, happy to be able to put his hidden talents to use.

"Rest assured Sir, no one will suspect a thing." He walked away with chest up and shoulders back.

Meanwhile Yeosang turned his attention back to you, who was sitting with back pressed against the wall, eyes shot wide open as your body couldn't stop trembling and shaking from what had just happened. Kneeling in front of you, Yeosang cupped your face, trying to get you to calm down he began hushing you close to your ear.

"It's ok baby. You're ok, you're going to be ok. And our baby is ok." He cooed at you as he stroked your hair.

"She's..she's..." You couldn't form a proper sentence as your mind replayed everything what just happened.

You had just returned from a small trip to the store and went to your room, only to find Mrs. Kang in there, back turned to you.

"Madame? Is there something I can help you with?" You offered.

When the lady turned to look at you, her face was tear strung and red from all the crying she had done, not from heartbreak, but from rage. In her hand, she had your phone and your heart dropped as you heard what it was that she had been looking at.

"I knew you were probably nothing more than a low, poor common whore, but to actually know you slept with my husband!"

You gasped when she came up and slapped you harshly across the face before yanking your hair and throwing you on the ground. Your hands immediately clasped around your belly protectively and the lady's face fell in shock.

"Don't tell me that the bastard you're carrying is actually..." She clasped a hand over her mouth as it all made sense to her now.

You couldn't help the tears that sprung out from your eyes. This was not what you wanted to happen

"I'm sorry, I-"

You began screaming when she suddenly pulled you up and began dragging you out of the room and into the hallway. When she pressed you up against the railing, you began to fearfully fight back for your and your baby's life, desperately trying to get out of the mad woman's grip.

"I'm going to fucking kill you! You and your child! How dare you do this to me?!"

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

"How was I supposed to know there would be a camera right in the middle of the beach placed on a totally secluded place? I mean come on! Hardly anyone ever goes to that spot, why install security cameras on a place hardly anyone goes to?!" San tried to justify himself as you both looked at the computer screen in front of you.

"Maybe precisely because people prefer going to secluded places to do illegal activities?" You glared at him.

"In my defense, it's not like we were hiding a dead body." San wanted to lighten up the mood.

You groaned as you covered your face.

"Why did I even agree to letting you fuck me in public at a beach?"

San rolled his eyes at you.

"Oh stop. You could have said no many times but instead you actually begged me to go harder on you. Don't believe me? I got evidence to back me up."

Pressing play once again, San nudged you so you could look at the video playing again. The good thing about it was that it happened during the night so your faces weren't that visible. But it was clear enough for anyone to see what was going on.

It happened during the vacation you two took to the beach. While talking a midnight stroll through a lonely part of the beach, San had gotten a little too wild and began groping you.

"San! Right now?" You squeaked when he cupped your breasts from behind, pulling your biking top to the side so he could squeeze them better.

"I'm feeling a little romantic babygirl. Wanna have my way with you right here." He whispered in your ear as a hand dipped inside your bikini bottoms, rubbing along your clit.

Your legs were turning to jelly the more you felt his caresses and the steamy kisses he pressed along your shoulder blades.

"If you'd rather go back to the hotel room, I'll carry you there right now." He offered as he began his pull his hands away.

"No! Fuck me right here." You told him.

"I knew you'd open up to the idea." He chuckled as he layed down on the sand, pulling you on top of him.

Both of your swimwear was soon discarded and you were bouncing on top of your husband's cock as the moonlight illuminated your sweaty and dewy bodies. Even after you had both came, you were begging San to keep going, which prompted him to grip your hips and start ramming up into you as he sputtered out words about making another baby with you.

Your lips were still pursed tightly even after the video was over. San stroked your hair and kissed the top of your head in an effort to calm your worries.

"If it makes you feel better....... the camera really captured your gorgeous figure." He snickered and held his hands up protectively when you started smacking him.

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

"You like that my little slut? Like being treated like this?" Mingi's deep voice asked as he tugged on the leash that was wrapped around your neck.

You grunted when he pulled you forward, the tip of his cock pressing against your lips and nose. Your mouth instantly parted, tongue licking the underside of his shaft.

"Such a dirty little cockslut." He teased you.

"Only for you daddy." You winked up at him but were met with a harsh slap on your face.

"Did I say you could talk slut? I don't remember giving you permission to talk." He harshly said.

"Why don't you shut me up then?" You challenged him.

Mingi plunged his cock deep inside your mouth, stuffing himself down your throat, making you gag around his long length. Using the leash, he kept pulling your face to and fro so he could fuck your face. You were moaning and choking all over his cock, spit running down your chin and onto the floor as his tip hit the back of your throat.

"Oh fuck!" Mingi cried out as he pulled out to cum on your face, splattering his hot liquid all over your forehead, cheeks and your tongue as you had it stuck out to eat up some of his cum. Mingi's thumb grazed over your swollen and red lower lip, pinching it slightly.

"You look so pretty like this." He said as he began tightening the leash around you.

"Well you did look pretty." You laughed when Mingi spoke up behind you.

"Shut up!" You pushed his face away when he began nuzzling his face against your cheek as he tried to keep you from freaking out over the fact one of your private videos had accidentally ended up online.

Mingi just chuckled and pulled you onto his lap.

"What are we going to do?" You sighed.

"Look on the bright side, your face was covered by the mask and no one really saw me so as far as anyone is concerned, it's an anonymous couple." He assured you. Wanting to get a little funny, he joked:

"Maybe we could even start an OnlyFans account."

You slapped his chest.

"Song Mingi!"

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

Although Wooyoung should have been furious over the fact the CCTV footage of you two in the strip club you used to work in got uploaded without your permission onto an adult site, he was surprisingly calm.

"I could have sworn I payed them to turn the cameras off?" He questioned as he knew fully well that customers weren't allowed to touch the strippers, hence why he paid an expensive amount just to be able to get alone time with you.

"Clearly that didn't happen." You stated as you just watched the video play out in front of you. You weren't going to lie, besides the slight arousal it was giving you to watch the sex tape, it also made you feel fuzzy to remember how your relationship with Wooyoung started in the first place.

"One thousand dollars if you hop your pretty ass over here and bounce yourself on my cock."

Your naked figure wasted no time in going over to take him out of his confinement before fucking yourself on top of him. Wooyoung was spilling out a clutter of curses as he watched your ass bounce on his lap. Soon enough he was landing slaps on your skin until it became red, his hips fucking up into you.

"Your own place, monthly allowance and anything else you want if you leave this place and become my own personal fuck toy."

You nearly came at his words when he made his final offer.

"Fuck! Yes! I accept!" You exclaimed.

Shifting positions, Wooyoung got you on all fours on the couch as he began to relentlessly thrust into you from behind, his cock hitting deep inside you.

"You're my little fuck toy now beautiful. No one else gets to fuck this cunt of yours but me."

You let out a loud yelp that was probably heard outside the door when you felt his hand slap your clit.

"No one, got it?" He snarled at you.

Your thighs clenched together as he remembered how possessive he was, and still was, towards you.

"Did the video affect you so much?" You heard Wooyoung ask as his hands came up to rub your shoulders. You shivered when his teeth grazed at your earlobe.

"Cause I know it affected me."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

"Which one of those fuckers hacked into my personal computer and leaked this?"

Jongho single handedly split an apple which terrified the person in front of him.

"We don't know s-sir...." He trembled.

"Well find out who they were and report back to me, I want you to work fast too. Now get on it!" He ordered harshly.

You came into the office and were confused when a poor intern sped out of there looking like he saw a ghost. Closing the door behind you, you handed Jongho a folder.

"The vein on your forehead is sticking out, what happened?" You knew he was majorly stressing over something and it was probably no small thing.

Huffing, he turned the computer so it could face you.

"One of those fuckers out there got a hold of the systems and managed to hack into my computer. Not only that, they decided to spread a certain video around." He explained, fists clenching and unclenching.

"What video?" You asked.

"Press play and find out."

Doing as he said, you blushed when you saw it was an old video of a time when you and Jongho were still a secret couple. He had stayed over at your house and during the night, he had snuck into your room and crawled his way into your bed, which you allowed him to.

"Shhh. You gotta be quiet princess. Don't want to get caught by your dad right?"

You shook your head and bit down onto one of the plushies laying around you in an effort to muffle the sounds coming out of your mouth as Jongho's thick dick kept sliding in and out of you.

"This is so fucking dirty. I'm ruining you even more by fucking you in the bed you grew up in. Tell me how does it make you feel? To have me shove my cock deep in your pussy in your childhood bedroom while your parents are asleep? Are you enjoying it?"

You whined loudly and clenched more around him as your breathing became more labored and you panted like crazy.

"You enjoyed it so much, you ended up pregnant by me."

You lifted your head to see Jongho wink at you which made you giggle.

"You enjoyed it too, don't even lie."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #ateez fluff #ateez angst

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handsomelyhiddleston · 3 years

Text

Stormy Sleepover - Tom Hiddleston x Reader

I haven’t written in like, years. I previously wrote for Colby Brock at @colbybrocksmolder and someone asked me to write for Tom so I figured I’d give it a shot.

I hope you enjoy!

_________________________

“Did you hear there was a storm coming?” one of your PA’s, Andi, asked you. You were in charge of making sure the cast all had assistants and that their life on set ran smoothly. You’d been working with these guys since the very first Thor movie.

“I got a notification on my phone a few hours ago, but this building is so big I doubt we’d know if it had actually hit yet.” You pulled up your weather app and clicked on the “!” checking to see what the “alert” was. “Oh god” you said, shocked to read that most of the county was already out of power.

“I told you, call me Chris.” Behind you, Hemsworth was chuckling leaning over to read what you were looking at on your phone.

“Ha, ha.” You laughed at his cheesy joke. “But seriously, has anyone been outside in the last few hours?”

Looking at your phone, Hemsworth shrugged and headed towards one of the truck bays.

In front of you, you watched Evans and Tom training with each other. There were various scenes in this movie involving water and a big thing the trainers had been working with them on was safely landing in water. It sounds funny, but you can break bones or knock yourself unconscious if you land wrong.

“Bad news” Hemsworth yelled out, getting everyone’s attention. “This building has been running on generators. There’s no power in the whole lot.” He dramatically shook his arms, flinging rain water on you and Andi.

“No wonder this water has gotten so cold” Evans added, shivering. “It’s usually warmed, but It’s ice right now.”

You sent a text to the director who was in a meeting with the writers. You received a text back fairly quickly. “Let everyone know we’ve got 6 more rooms at the Hyatt Hotel a few towns over for those who don’t have trailers on the lot. Tell everyone else that it looks like the power won’t be fixed until tomorrow afternoon. There’s a whole line of downed power lines that they can’t get to until the storm stops. The generators only run lights and a few outlets and it looks like they’re going to die soon too. The 16 seater van is outside with a driver to take people to the hotel.”

“Looks like we’re done for the day.” You said mostly to yourself, with Hemsworth and Andi hearing you.

“Everybody in.” Hemsworth hollered out so you wouldn’t have to yell.

“Thanks.” You shot him a smile.

“Any time” he replied, flinging his long wet hair towards you.

“I take it back.” You laughed, moving to stand on your chair.

“I know that not everyone has a trailer in the lot yet as we haven’t actually started filming, so for anyone that doesn’t have a home here there’s a van outside that will take to you the hotel that has power nearby. It’s already super chilly in here, so I imagine it’s freezing outside.” You spoke so everyone could hear you.

“Can confirm.” Hemsworth said, starting to shiver a bit.

“There’s umbrellas near the catering tables and there’s a bunch of old hoodies and jackets in the extras costume bay. Make sure you’re warm and dry before you head to the van.”

Everyone that didn’t have a trailer on set left once they had their instructions.

“As for the rest of us, we have to hunker down in our trailers until this passes. I have solar power and full solar batteries on my trailer so all of you are more than welcome to come crash with me if your trailer is too cold or you need electricity for anything.”

You, Hemsworth, Evans, Tom, and Scarlett were the only ones on set that had trailers so far.

“It can’t be THAT cold” Evans joked, grabbing his bag and heading towards the door.

“Scarlett went to her trailer a few hours ago” Tom shared. “I only got here last night so I don’t even have my trailer set up. Are you sure you’re okay if I go grab my bag and come steal some of your space?”

“Absolutely” you smiled at him. “And if I know Scarlett, she’s already in my trailer. I don’t think her trailer was even hooked up to power yet. Her’s was the newest one on the lot.”

“Thank you, darling. I’ll go grab my bag and check Scarlett’s trailer on my way to yours.” Tom replied and then jogged towards the door.

Andi left to catch the van once you passed your notes from the day on to her. “Be safe. Don’t worry about making it back tomorrow. I will email you any further updates I have for assignments.”

“I’m going to head back to my trailer and see if I have any cell services.” Hemsworth shared after everyone else had started leaving. “I know my wife probably has all of the weather and accident alerts on for the whole county and she’s probably worried.”

“Be safe.” You said, taking his offered hand so you could step off of your chair safely. “I’ll grab the satellite phone in the emergency kit and take it to my trailer just in case we need it.”

“It looks like you may have a full house tonight.” Hemsworth Joked.

“You’re welcome to join the insanity.” You teased, throwing your hoodie on and grabbing the satellite phone.

When you made it to your trailer, you were pretty soaked. Even with the umbrella, the rain was insane.

“Thank God you didn’t leave.” Scarlett startled you.

“I knew you’d already be in here.” You laughed. “Tom is on his way. His trailer is like yours. We didn’t even get a chance to get them hooked up before this crazy storm hit.”

“Oooo Lover boy is coming.” She teased.

“Oh, shut it. We’re friends, Scar. That’s it. We’ve never been more than friends.” You started stripping out of your wet clothes and slipped on a pair of soft black sweatpants and your favorite hoodie. It was dark green with “Mischief” written across the front. There were gold horns painted on the hood.

“I’ve known your friend almost as long as you have and the way he looks at you…I’m just saying. I think there’s something there.” She teased, gathering your wet clothes and putting them in a laundry bin that was tucked under one of the beds.

You both turned to the door hearing what sounded like a woman screaming bloody murder. “Let me in” Evans yelled, banging on the door.

Scarlett opened the door while you grabbed a towel. She laughed at him, seeing him drenched head to toe. “It was unlocked, tough guy.”

“You hit an octave I don’t think I can even reach, Cap” you teased, throwing him the towel and going back into your PJ drawer for an oversized t shirt and a baggy pair of sweats.

“I was wrong. I was so wrong. It’s fucking freezing in my trailer and I didn’t realize that the water would be cold because the power has been out for so long.” Evan’s teeth were chattering as he stripped out of his clothes, trying to dry off.

“I think I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve seen you naked, Evans.” Scarlett laughed, handing him the clothes you picked out for him.

“Thank god you aren’t seeing the front. It’s so cold I think my manhood has retreated fully into my body” Evans replied, throwing the clothes on and drying his hair with the towel.

Both of you laughed. You started brewing a pot of coffee and turned your water kettle on for tea. “Well, Scarlett already claimed the couch.” You mentioned. “Why don’t you take the regular bed so that if Hemsworth joins, you two can bunk together. It’s queen size so it should fit you both comfortably.”

Evans crawled into bed, wrapping himself in the blankets and trying to warm up. “Where will you sleep?”

“The dining room table and benches turn into a bed.” You replied. “It’s a full size, so almost as big as the one you’re in.”

“Did you hear that?” Evans perked up, trying to look out the tiny window he could still see through from the bed.

You and Scarlett quieted down. Getting louder you could hear Hemsworth yelling “NO, I AM THE GOD OF THUNDER!” every time lighting would strike and the sky would boom.

“Looks like it’s going to be a full house tonight.” Scarlett laughed, opening the door. “Get your godly ass in here, you crazy Australian.”

“He’s clearly the superior Chris” Evans joked. “Are you fucking crazy?” he asked as Hemsworth stepped into the trailer.

“Possibly. Probably.” Hemsworth laughed, trying not to get water all over the floor.

Scarlett grabbed the towel Evans had used to dry off and put it down on the floor by the door. “Here you go.”

“Much appreciated.” Hemsworth replied, dropping his duffle bag. “Can I change in your bathroom?”

“It’s all yours” you said. “Do you need clothes or did you bring some dry ones?”

“I brought some. I also brought some fun. I’ll show you after I get out of my sopping clothes.” He answered, leaving his shoes by the door and stepping into the bathroom.

When the bathroom door clicked, you heard a knock on the door. “Tom, come in” you hollered.

Tom was wearing a long poncho with an umbrella. He had a large bag with him and when he got inside he kicked his shoes off, putting them by Hemsworth’s shoes. You grabbed his bag from him, putting it by the second bed you had just finished setting up. He closed the umbrella and pulled his poncho off, his black sweatpants and black hoodie bone dry.

“You make the other two look like heathens.” Scarlett laughed. “They showed up soaking wet and screaming.”

“He is a gentleman.” You gave him a smirk, causing his cheeks to blush ever so slightly.

“Is there even room for all 5 of us?” he cleared his throat and laughed.

“Absolutely” you ushered him towards you. “Evans and Hemsworth are sharing that bed. Scarlett has the couch. I just set up the extra bed right here, for you.”

“For us” he replied with a stern look. “I know you too well, darling” he smirked. “You’re going to offer to sleep on the floor by the couch and I won’t have any of it.”

“Tom, it’s fine. I have a sleeping bag and…” You tried to ensure him you’d be okay, but he interrupted you.

“If you try to sleep on this floor I will walk back to my freezing trailer so you can have the bed to yourself.” The stern look softened as he pulled you into a tight hug. “You know you don’t always have to be the one to make the sacrifice. Plus, I promise I don’t talk in my sleep or have crazy dreams. I’ve even been told I’m quite comfy to cuddle with.” He dropped his eyes to yours, smirking.

“Oh, if I must.” You teased him, kissing his cheek as Hemsworth finally came out of the bathroom. “Scarlett knows where the laundry bin is.” You pointed him towards the hamper full of wet clothes.

“Do I smell coffee?” Evans sat up in bed, looking towards you. “Come cuddle, buddy” he laughed opening his arms for Hemsworth who let all of his body weight drop on Evans. “Jesus Christ, you’re a brick.”

You laughed, pulling down mugs from the cabinets and making everyone coffee. “Coffee or Tea, Tom?” you looked over at him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed you two would share.

“Tea, my sweet. But let me help you.” He stood and started grabbing sugars for everyone’s coffee, asking how many they normally added.

“There’s pasta in the crock-pot as well if anyone is hungry.” You announced.

“Food?” Hemsworth’s head shot up and he crawled off of Evans.

“God, men are so simple.” Scarlett laughed, grabbing the coffee you handed her.

“You are not wrong.” Evans added, asking if he could help with anything now that he wasn’t freezing to death.

“I think we’re good.” You replied, dishing up some pasta for Hemsworth and Evans and passing them off to the boys. “Scarlett?” you offered her food, as well.

“Actually, I’m craving something sweet.” She answered.

“I’ve prepared for this one” Tom answered, going to the large bag he brought with him. “It took me so long to get here because I walked to the catering room to grab some snacks. I’ve got a whole tub of cookie dough that probably needs to go in the refrigerator soon, a tub of sour sweets, and what looks like a large cherry pie.”

“Pass the cookie dough this way” Scarlett answered. “This man has his priorities straight”, she laughed.

After everyone had sat back on their beds, dug into their food, and warmed up with their coffee or tea, Hemsworth remembered his bag. “Since we are most likely going to be stuck in this trailer until tomorrow afternoon, I brought a different kind of treat.” He picked up his bag and started pulling out bottles of alcohol and putting them on the counter. “Anyone opposed?” he asked.

“What a G!” Evans laughed, crawling out of the bed to help Hemsworth make drinks. “What kind of mixers do you have, Y/n?”

“There’s some cans of soda, some energy drinks…there’s some juice…and then we’ve got coffee for that Bailey’s I see” you answered.

Tom was smirking next to you as the Chrises started making a make-shift bar out of what they had available to them.

“We’ve got to get this started with a bang” Hemsworth said, handing everyone two shots each. “The first one is to us having a great night reunited with our make-shift family.” He smiled at everyone and downed the first shot, everyone else following suit.

Evans spoke up after. “The second one goes to our incredible, gracious, and always prepared host. To Y/n!” He downed the second shot, everyone following his lead. Except for Tom.

You shivered as the second shot went down your throat and looked over at Tom who was still holding his full shot glass, sitting next to you on the bed. He had a small smile, giving you a look you couldn’t place. Quietly he spoke to you “I’d like to add a few things to his toast, but I think it may take a few more drinks to find the right words.” He downed the shot and took a sip of his tea to wash it down.

“Who wants what?” Evans asked, making everyone a strong drink.

For the first few drinks, everyone just talked and caught up. It had been a while since the group had been on a press run or a film set together.

“Y/n!” Evans spoke up.

“Yes, Cap?” you answered, starting to feel the alcohol course through you.

“Truth or Dare?” He smirked. His eyebrow raised like he was challenging you.

“Truth.” You answered, staring him down.

“Hmmm…Have you dated anyone working on any of these movies? Cast or crew?” He asked, finishing off his drink and standing to make another.

“I haven’t” you answered truthfully.

“Wait, let’s not do truth or dare, lets do truth or shot.” Scarlett suggested, wanting to get a few answers out of you and Tom.

“I like it.” Evans said, grabbing everyone’s shot glasses back and filling them so he could hand them out as needed.

“I answered, so I’m in the clear. Hemsworth has a higher alcohol tolerance than we do so I need him to catch up. Who is an actor in the MCU you hope you never have to work with again?” You asked, hearing Tom chuckle next to you.

“I can’t answer that!” he laughed, taking the shot Evans handed him.

“That’s the point.” You laughed.

He laughed, handing the empty shot glass back to Evans. “Fine, fine. Tom. In our last interview panel together, they kept asking you if you were seeing someone and you answered no. You then said that you were interested in someone, but that you hadn’t done anything about it. Who is she?”

“Oh no.” Tom laughed, feeling the alcohol a bit himself. “I think I need to take a shot. Are all of these going to be so hard?” He grabbed the shot that Evans passed off to him.

“I think you guys just need to not be pussies and answer the damn questions” Scarlett laughed, shooting you a look.

“Right?” Evans laughed, taking the empty shot glass from Tom.

Tom scooted a bit closer to you when he handed off his shot glass. “Okay, Evans. If you had to marry one of your on screen romantic co-stars, who would it be?”

“Oh, come on! It’s gotta be Scar Jo! The one and only.” Evans laughed, putting his hands over his heart and giving Scarlett a loving look. “We’ve been in movies together damn near my whole career.”

“We would annoy the hell out of each other.” Scarlett laughed.

“It’s true. We’re practically siblings. Okay, Y/n” Evans rubbed his hands together like he was plotting. “Favorite actor you’ve been able to work with ever.”

“Why do I feel like there’s a very specific question you want to ask, but instead you’re asking questions trying to fluster me?” you shot him a look, trying not to blush.

“Hey, I’m just playing the game.” Evans laughed, picking up a shot to let me know I didn’t have to answer.

“Keep your shot. I’ll answer this one. It’s definitely Mr. Mischief himself over here.” You pointed your thumb to your side at Tom, trying not to blush.

“No, there has to be someone cooler than me.” Tom blushed, hiding his glee by taking a sip of his tea.

You looked at him, summoning the strength of the drinks you’ve been throwing back. “You should give yourself more credit. You’re amazing.”

You stayed in the moment for a few seconds, just smiling at each other. “I think it’s your turn”, Tom said, putting his arm around your shoulders.

You blushed, realizing you had just been staring at him. Leaning into his side, you asked “Okay, Evans. Have you slept with any of your MCU co-stars?”

“Oh shit!” Scarlett laughed, standing up and handing Evans one of the shots.

“Yeah, yeah.” He laughed, downing the shot. “I’ll pick on someone else this time.” He filled up everyone’s drinks while thinking of his next question. “Okay, Scar. Who is the most attractive man in the current MCU?”

“Oooh, good question.” Scarlett thought about it, going through the movies outside of the Avengers. “I have a few different answers.”

“Explain.” Hemsworth replied.

“Well, There are a few people I find attractive for different reasons, I guess.” She answered.

“How about you share this list and we decide if you still need to drink for not picking one person?” You laughed.

“Well, Hemsworth is an amazing dad. Like, you look your happiest when you’re in the messiest, most chaotic situations with your kids. Most dads are the opposite. They’re trying to escape that.” Scarlett explained her first answer.

“Valid points made so far” Evans agreed, leaning against the counter.

“Hiddleston is the fucking epitome of a gentleman. You’re literally everything women want.” Scarlett turned towards tom, making him blush.

You quietly spoke “She’s not wrong” in Tom’s ear, feeling him pull you tighter to his side in response.

“You’re too kind”, Tom answered to her, downing the rest of his drink.

Scarlett looked to Evans. “I think I have to go with…Idris Elba.”

“I want to be mad that I didn’t make your list, but that man is truly a god.” Evans responded.

The game started to wind down as it got later into the night. Seeing everyone kind of calm down and get settled, you walked around making sure everyone had what they needed.

“Anyone want water so you don’t wake up hungover?” you laughed, pulling some water out of the fridge.

“Here!” “Please!” you handed water bottles out to everyone.

“I’m not setting an alarm for the morning. It’s super late and I doubt anyone is going to be back on the lot before dinner time anyways.” You said, grabbing you and Tom each a water bottle before turning off the main light.

You turned on the small light above your bed so you could sort out your sleeping arrangements. You grabbed your toiletries bag and pulled out a make-up wipe, trying to clean your face since you didn’t really get to do your nightly routine.

“Can I use one of those?” Tom asked, realizing he hadn’t been able to wash his face either.

“Come here” you said, scooting against Tom so you could run the damp cloth over his face. He watched your gentle movements, feeling you run the cool cloth across his skin.

“Thank you” he said, kissing the back of your hand before scooting back in the bed and laying down.

You put your bag back and drank some of your water before crawling fully into the bed and turning off the light. “Are you good?” you asked, turning to face Tom in the dark. You could feel his hand reach out and settle on your arm.

“I am” he answered, running his hand down your arm, to rest on your hip. “I want to finish your toast” he whispered, scooting his pillow closer to yours. “What Evans said was true, but you’re so much more, y/n. You’re beautiful and incredibly intelligent and there is not a single person I look forward to seeing more than you.”

“I think you’re drunk” you replied, knowing that if the light was on your face would be bright red.

“I am” Tom chuckled. “I still stand by what I said.”

You reached forward and ran your hand up Tom’s chest until you felt your fingers graze the side of his face. “I’m going to have to thank Hemsworth for getting you tipsy” you laughed, teasing Tom. You scooted closer to him, feeling him wrap his arm around your back and hold you against him.

“I couldn’t have waited much longer to tell you anyways” Tom replied. “I was just nervous you didn’t feel the same. We’ve been such good friends for so long…”

You interrupted him, capturing his lips in a kiss. “I’ve wanted to do that for years” you said, connecting your lips in a second kiss.

“Oh, thank god.” Tom said, a little louder than intended. “Can I call you mine?”

You laughed, trying to stay quiet. “Please, do.” You answered reconnecting your lips.

Tom rolled to hover over you, deepening the kiss.

“Fucking finally!” you heard Scarlett call out, making Tom collapse on top of you in laughter.

“Right?” Evans added. “It’s been ages.”

“Fair warning, I am telling this story at your wedding” Hemsworth said.

“I think our friends are happy for us” Tom said in a much quieter voice, flipping the two of you so that you were laying against his chest.

“I mean, I’m pretty happy for us” you replied, snuggling into his warm chest.

“Me too, love. Get some sleep” he said, running his hand up and down your back as he felt your breaths even out.

#Tom Hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston x Reader #Tom Hiddleston Imagine #Tom Hiddleston Fic #Loki

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dreamwritesimagines · 4 years

Text

Twisted 14 - Sinking Deeper [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Ps: Special thanks to Bea for helping me!

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking.

Word Count: 4180

Summary: Not every night is for sleeping.

All things considered, you were sure that you were supposed to be more stressed out than you were right now. The FBI still had nothing on the copycat killer that had sent you flowers, or any of the others that were running wild all over the country. BAU was working nonstop because there was more and more pressure coming from the supervisors and higher ups, and Spencer had told you something about the profile evolving but hadn’t gotten into details.

Not that you would ever ask him to, what you heard was more than enough.

Despite all that, whenever you were with him, you managed to feel almost…peaceful. It was so unfamiliar to you that it had taken you a moment to acknowledge what it was.

Happiness. Pure happiness, enough to get rid of the mind-numbing panic and worries about the future.

Or, as your sister had so eloquently put it, you were so, so screwed.

You took a sip of your mimosa, texting Spencer under the table, barely aware of the conversation taking place but you had to look up when you heard your name being called.

“Would you want to, Y/N?” your mother asked and you frowned.

“Hm?” you asked, your eyes stopping on Lily playing with her dolls by the corner of the huge living room before you looked at Mina and Kenzie, “Sorry, what were we talking about?”

“There’s this opera—“

“Nope,” you shook your head fervently, “No way. It’s Mina’s turn.”

Mina let out a whine, “I hate you so much right now.”

“She has a point,” your mother pointed at Mina, “Your sister was the one who came to the charity ball, you can come to this one.”

Mina heaved a sigh while Kenzie reached out to hold her hand.

“Babe come on, it could be fun.”

“Exactly!” your mother said, “Thank you, Kenzie. Besides, Nolan is coming as well, so we will be two couples there. Y/N, of course if you want you can bring Spencer—“

“I’m not exaggerating when I say I’d rather spend an hour in my serial killer father’s cell with Spencer.”

Your mother rolled her eyes and Mina tilted her head.

“Nolan Yates is coming too?” she asked, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I’m spending a whole night with the boss of my boss?”

“You two should get to know each other!” Your mother said, “Besides, there’s no harm in telling your bosses that you should become a partner already—“

“Mom,” Mina cut her off, “We talked about this. I will earn that position by myself, not because of anyone’s influence. Including yours.”

Your mother sipped her drink, “It’s as if you like struggling, Mina.”

Kenzie looked between them and smiled brightly, trying to diffuse the situation. “I’m actually pretty curious about him,” she said, “Since you’re a couple now, I just need to see what kind of a person he is.”

“There’s nothing to see, babe.” Mina murmured, “The guy looks like he spends millions alone on his beard care and wears bowties to bed.”

“Yeah but bowties are cool,” you grinned and a silence fell upon the table.

“I will get back to you sleeping with my boss’ boss in a minute mom but—“ Mina cleared her throat and turned to you, “I’m sorry, was that a Doctor Who reference?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I started watching it because Spencer likes it so much. It’s actually pretty fun, he said we could go to Sonic-Con next year if I want.”

“Comic-Con.” Kenzie corrected you helpfully and Mina blinked a couple of times.

“Jesus Christ.”

“I don’t get it,” Kenzie said, “I told you to watch it with me and you said, and I quote It has like one billion episodes Kenz, I don’t have time for that.”

Mina stole a look at Lily to make sure she couldn’t hear you before she turned to Kenzie, “Yeah, the difference is that you weren’t dicking her down.”

“Nobody is dicking me down!” you whispered, and your mother gasped, putting her mimosa glass down.

“Girls, not at the breakfast table!” she insisted, “Not that this kind of language is acceptable anywhere…”

“Yeah Mina, leave her alone,” Kenzie said, “I think it’s sweet.”

“What’s next? You will want to get a doctorate as well because he likes them so much?”

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” your mother mused out loud, “Y/N, I know the lovely dean of—“

“No!” you pointed at them, “No to both of you. And thank you Kenzie.”

Before your mother could say anything, Lily ran to you to climb into your lap.

“Hi there bug.”

“Can we play after brunch?” she looked up at you, making you smile at her before you pinched her chubby cheek, making her giggle.

“Of course,” you said, “Dibs on green unicorn.”

“I like pink better,” she nicked a piece of cheese from your plate, “Are you talking about your prince?”

Mina smiled into her glass, “Something like that sweetheart.”

“Lily, why don’t you ask auntie what you asked me the other day?” Kenzie told her and Lily nodded fervently.

“Can I wear pink on your wedding?”

“Whoa-“ you cleared your throat, “Lily, baby, there’s no wedding.”

Kenzie and your mother grinned at each other and turned to you and Lily but she looked as if she was confused.

“But if he’s your prince…” she trailed off and Kenzie cleared her throat.

“I would like to come up with a tamer version of that question,” she said, “When do we get to meet him?”

“Mom and Mina already have,” you said but your mother shook her head.

“That doesn’t count.”

“Because you treated him like you were going to hire him?”

“Oh you did the same to him as well?” Kenzie asked your mother, “I thought Mina would have a heart attack when you did that to me.”

“I honestly thought you would break up with me after that.”

You fixed the huge bow on top of Lily’s hair while she sat still in your lap, listening to the conversation.

“How about dinner?” your mother said, “It’d help us to get to know him better.”

“Nope,” you shook your head, “It’s too early.”

“Oh come on Y/N!”

“I will introduce him to you guys when I’m sure you can behave.”

“He has spent hours with dad, you do realize that?” Mina asked with a small laugh, “You think he behaves? The guy is a—“

“Mina.” Kenzie nodded at Lily and Mina stopped herself immediately but Lily had already heard it.

“I thought your dad was a bad man, mommy.”

“He is, baby,” she nodded, “That’s why he’s far away, remember?”

“Then why is auntie Y/N’s prince talking to him?”

“Because he catches bad people, bug.”

Lily gasped and looked up at you, her eyes shining with excitement, “Like a superhero?!”

“Mm hm, like a superhero,” you grinned at her and she fidgeted in your lap.

“When will I meet him?”

“Yeah Y/N, when will we meet him?” Kenzie batted her lashes and you pointed at her.

“That’s evil, you know that right?” you asked, ignoring Mina’s laughter, “Low blow.”

***

Towards the evening, right before it was time to meet Spencer he had texted you, saying that they would be doing overtime at work. You were bummed, but you still texted back to tell him it was alright, that you would be going home and he could drop by whenever he was done.

After having dinner, you went to the couch with a bottle of wine and turned your laptop on to take a look at the files your assistant had sent you. Campbell wedding was almost done, Vincent had sent you a couple of new ideas to add into the theme, and you had to email back two pastry shops to confirm the wedding cake orders.

You were so lost in work that you had barely realized downing the half of the bottle and it was only when your phone started buzzing on the coffee table that you looked away from the screen of the laptop.

“Hi Lincoln,” you answered the phone, still typing your replies to your assistant and he took a deep breath.

“Hey,” he said, “Are you watching it?”

“Watching what?”

“TV. They’re talking about the copycat killers.”

“What?” you grabbed the remote to turn on the TV and of course, the first TV channel you found was already covering the story.

“The FBI has confirmed that the body that was found dead earlier today belonged to one of the copycat killers that has been—“

“What the fuck?” you murmured, keeping your eyes on the screen and he cleared his throat.

“Yeah,” he said, “I know it’s creepy but I mean…I don’t know, isn’t that a good thing?”

“Someone killed one of the copycat killers?” you asked, “That makes no sense at all.”

“Do you think it’s the same one?” he asked, “From the charity ball?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered, “Jesus Christ.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, “I didn’t know if I should call, but…”

“No no, I’m glad you did.” You muted the TV, then filled your glass again, “What’re you doing?”

“Just leaving work,” he said and you raised your brows.

“Linc, it’s eleven p.m.”

“I had to attend a meeting overseas.”

“Workaholic.”

“I prefer the term hard working,” he chuckled, “How about you? You weren’t sleeping, right?”

“Nah, I was waiting for my boyfriend,” you said, making him pause for a moment, “And checking client files. And drinking.”

“You’re lucky you can deal with your job while drinking, these sharks would pounce on me if they ever saw me like that.”

You took a look at the TV and typed in the copycat killer’s name into the search bar, sipping your wine.

“You’re being safe, right?” he asked you, “I haven’t heard from you for like a week or so, you’re alright?”

You pressed your lips together, trying to decide whether to tell him about the flowers or not, but in the end you decided not to.

“Family drama,” you said, “I’ve been running everywhere, and what with work and everything…Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be silly,” he chuckled, “Just wanted to make sure you were alright, that’s all.”

“I’m alright—“ you started but then looked over your shoulder when you heard the doorbell ring, “Gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Sure thing, see you,” he said and hung up, so you jumped over the couch to rush to the door before you opened it to see Spencer standing there.

“Hey,” you smiled at him, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him, “Long day?”

He nodded silently and wrapped his arms around you, pressing you closer to inhale your scent.

“Hi,” he muttered into your hair, “Yeah. Long day.”

“I have wine?” you said as you pulled back, and closed the door after he stepped in, “I also have a bathtub even you could lose yourself in.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry,” he said and hesitated for a moment, “On second thought, do you have coffee?”

“Are you sure you want to drink coffee at eleven at night?”

“I still have some reports to go over,” he said, stepping into the living room while you put the coffee on and his eyes stopped on the huge screen that was still giving details about the copycat killer.

“You saw that huh?”

“Mm hm,” you watched him as he dropped his satchel and you went to sit down next to him on the couch. “I was checking the other news. That’s why you had to work overtime?”

He rubbed at his eyes and ran a hand through his fluffy hair as if it would help, “We thought the profile was changing but this whole thing just proves someone is trying to keep it stable.”

You pulled your brows together, “What?”

“The victimology didn’t match with the last two victims, and now one of the copycats ended up dead, probably the one who went rogue.”

“How did it not match?” you blinked a couple of times, “They all left a flower in the crime scene, no?”

“Well yeah, but the rest—“ he stopped for a moment, staring at you, “You never actually checked his victimology?”

“I never watched any of those interviews he gave after he was imprisoned, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Yeah, and those interviews are the reason why we still don’t have a specific suspect because everyone knows everything about him, and most of your family life,” he heaved a sigh, “But you know what his victims had in common?”

“They all bled out while he watched,” you crossed your arms, leaning back to the arm of the couch, “I know that. He liked watching that.”

“Your father never killed anyone outside his social circle,” he reminded you, “They were all wealthy and overly successful people, remember? That’s why it took FBI so long to find him, because the previous profile was wrong. They thought it was someone who didn’t have access to the same resources, the same wealth and status, and it was for revenge.”

“Yeah but Spencer, he killed those people because he is evil.”

“He killed those people because in his mind, he was creating this…perfect business environment. Most of the people who got murdered were either failing business people or people who failed to meet his expectations. He was very successful, he expected the same from everyone. That’s his victimology. The flowers on the crime scene, they were just his signature. Well, his signature and his small offering to you.”

You thought for a moment, then went to the kitchen to pour him a cup of coffee before walking back to the couch.

“I still think this is a bad idea professor,” you muttered as you gave him the cup and he smiled at you, then took a sip while you lit up a cigarette.

“So then,” you crossed your legs, “His victims were the cream of society and that means something? Other than the fact that he was a psychopath?”

“That means a lot of things,” he said, “So far, most of the victims had a higher status in society, it means that the copycats actually wanted to continue his legacy from where he left off. Maybe not the people who disappointed them per se, but until these last two victims, they all had higher financial status, either family money or with their own successful companies but last month, someone first killed a bartender and then a social worker. The only thing that told us it was remotely connected was the flower in the crime scene.”

“That’s why the profile was changing,” you muttered to yourself, “Okay. Is that normal?”

“No, not at all,” he shook his head, “It’s very unfamiliar. It did prove our multiple copycat killers theory but other than that, it was going to make things incredibly harder until…” he nodded at the TV and you pulled your brows together.

“Hold on,” you sat up straighter, your mind working nonstop, “Multiple copycats who are trying to continue that monster’s legacy, and one happens to taint that legacy by going rogue…”

“And he gets killed,” he finished your sentence for you, “Exactly.”

“It was one of the copycats who killed him?”

“That’s my theory.”

“So they’re not actually working together then?” you asked, exhaling the smoke, “Or- or- wait, you said there could be one copycat that was controlling the others, maybe they did it?”

Spencer took a sip of his coffee, “It could also mean that the leader wouldn’t want to take chances like this again,” he said, “Someone tainted the legacy, he might begin to believe he cannot trust anyone with that again.”

You let out a breath, stubbing the cigarette, “What does that mean then? For…all of this?”

“It means that someone cares so much about your father’s legacy that they’re ready to kill anyone and everyone over it, even their partners,” he said, “It also means that their whole operation is starting to crack. It’s only a matter of time someone makes a mistake and ends up getting caught.”

You massaged your temples, “Well, at least one of us can see the light at the end of this psycho murder tunnel.”

“You can’t?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “It feels like it won’t stop,” you croaked out, “It’s like… It’s like I can’t wake up without dread filling me. It’s always there, at some corner of my mind. The more I think about it, the more I feel like—“ you stopped yourself and Spencer frowned, putting his coffee down.

“What?”

“You don’t want to hear that, trust me.”

“Try me.”

“The more I feel like it will go on until the day I die.”

“It’s impossible for this case to take that long, Y/N—“

“I didn’t say it’d take long,” you took a sip of your wine and heaved a sigh before you looked up at him, the expression on his face almost hurting your heart physically, “Told you that you didn’t want to hear it.”

“Don’t say that.”

You forced a small laugh and got up from the couch, suddenly restless.

“You said it yourself,” you said, pacing in the living room, “His victimology. He went after the people who disappointed him, right? Can you guess who’s disappointing him right now by not turning into the monster that he is?”

“That’s not what I—“ he shook his head fervently and stood up from the couch as well, “No. No way. It’s his victimology, but none of the psychiatric evaluations or anything on his file, including the list of his victims suggest that he would go after his family. There was a reason why he never tried to hurt you or Mina or your mother even back then—“

“No I’m sure they’re safe,” you said, “But Mina didn’t get flowers, professor. I have.”

“If our theory of him being in contact with the copycat is right, it means that your father is involved as well—hey,” he stopped you from pacing, reaching out to hold your hands in his, “Listen to me. Whoever it is, they will never, ever touch you. I’ll make sure of that.”

A painful smile pulled at your lips, “Spencer, that’s not your responsibility.”

“It is.”

“FBI can’t—“

“I’m not talking about the FBI, I’m talking about me.”

You took a shaky breath and wrapped your arms around his middle, burying your face into his chest as you swayed slightly.

“Is it okay if we stay like this for a moment?” you muttered, shifting your weight from one foot to another “I don’t— I can’t sit still, I don’t know why.”

“Do you want to hear the reason why?” he ran his fingertips over your spine up and down, as if trying to soothe you and you nodded.

“Yes please.”

“You feel threatened, so your brain is trying to understand where the danger is coming from. It’s telling you to either stand or run away, so it’s pumping adrenaline into your system. We call that nervous energy.”

“That could be my stripper name,” you mumbled, making a chuckle vibrate deeply in his chest, “Tell me more.”

“The nervous energy happens when you’re under stress,” he said, “Our primitive brain is used to physical threats and it created this system in order to protect us. The threat you’re afraid of is not here, not physical, but your brain is still sending that energy to your limbs so that you can attack that physical threat, or run away to somewhere safe. It’s all a part of your defense mechanism.”

You hmmed into his chest, still holding him tight as if someone would take him away from you before you sniffled and pulled back to look up at him.

“You know, I think I got something you can’t explain with science.”

He raised his brows, “Debatable.”

“Do you want to bet? If I win, you’ll tell me what you planned for the next date.”

“What if I win?”

You wiped at your nose, “Tell me your price, professor.”

“There’s this conference on smoking and its effects on health next week, if I win you will attend that with me.”

“That’s a very indirect way to say that you hate my smoking.”

“I mean, it’s better if you see the effects in that conference, I think it’ll be good for you. It has five sessions, so it’s around….7 hours, including breaks.”

You blinked a couple of times, then nodded. “7 hours? That’s— okay. Yeah, I’m sure— I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

A smile pulled at his lips, “Okay,” he said, “What is it?”

“It’s just,” you nibbled on your lip, trying to find the right words, “I was thinking and I realized something. I— I think it’s instinctual somehow, you can’t really explain it with science but when you’re here…” you paused, “With me, I mean, this whole panic dissolves. I feel safe, and it’s so unfamiliar that I don’t—“ you let out a small laugh, “I don’t know how to deal with that. I normally don’t feel safe, ever.”

A small smile pulled at his lips and he tilted his head, his warm gaze focused on you. You scrunched up your nose.

“Don’t tell me science can explain that.”

“Oxytocin.”

“God damn it!” you exclaimed, making him laugh, “Oxytocin?”

“Yeah, oxytocin. It’s a hormone that ensures that you trust people along with everything else. Basically, your brain— when you’re attracted to someone, your brain releases dopamine, so your serotonin levels rise and it produces oxytocin. It’s a big part of romantic attachment, it’s released during sex as well.”

You arched a brow, a small smirk flashing over your face and he pressed his lips together, a look of mischief appearing on his face.

“It strengthens fidelity as well,” he explained, “Seeing your partner as more attractive than others, and preferring to interact more with your partner than strangers.”

You clicked your tongue, “7 hours of conference, here we come.”

“It’ll be fun, I heard they’re bringing a real lung.”

“Can’t wait,” you muttered and entwined your fingers with his, “Well for what it’s worth professor, I have a lot of oxytocin for you.”

He cleared his throat, “Scientifically, one of the most important aspects of it is reproduction, in females it triggers labor and in males it moves sperm so having a lot of oxytocin can be—“

“Spencer, I’m trying to talk dirty in a scientific way!” you groaned, a fire spreading over your face because of embarrassment and you took a step to walk away from him but he grabbed your hand to turn you around and tug you closer to him, making you let out a whine.

“I feel like an idiot,” you murmured and he shook his head fervently,

“No, of course not,” he said, pushing your hair behind your ear, “Hey. I don’t know anything about weddings. So we complete each other if you ask me.”

You scoffed a laugh and looked up at him, your brows furrowed together, “You really think that?”

He nodded and you heaved a sigh.

“Okay.”

“And…for your information,” he swallowed thickly, “I have a lot of oxytocin for you too.”

A giggle you couldn’t stop escaped from you as he leaned in to capture your lips in a kiss, making your stomach do a pleasant flip. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your lungs full of his scent, making you dizzy.

“They’ll take away your doctorates for that joke, professor,” you breathed out as he pulled back, resting his forehead on yours while you raked your nails over the back of his neck gently.

“Worth it,” he murmured to your lips, leaning in to kiss you again, this time pressing you closer to his body and your heart started beating in your throat, a whine climbing up to your throat, desire filling your system faster than any other drug.

“Would you like to stay the night?” you whispered, and his eyes shot up to yours, both of you aware what you were really asking. He looked almost hypnotized by the sight of you in his arms and he blinked a couple of times, as if trying to focus before he nodded.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice hoarse and you took a shaky breath.

“Yeah,” you managed to say, your whole being consumed by this moment. “Yeah, I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

You could swear he could hear your heartbeat echoing through the room,

“No scientific explanation this time, professor?” you whispered against his lips and his fingers caressed the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a pleasant shiver from there to your whole body.

“No,” he murmured, leaning in to brush his lips against yours, “Not this time. Not for the lady who imparadises my mind.”

The lady who imparadises my mind.

That was how Dante described Beatrice in Paradise.

You stood on your tiptoes to pull him into a kiss, then tugged at his hand to lead him into your bedroom.

Chapter 15

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #criminal minds #spencer #reid #spencer x reader #reid x reader #spencer imagine #reid imagines #cm #spencer imagines #reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #twisted

1K notes · View notes

tennessoui · 3 years

Note

49!!!!!! Please

finally!!!! baby, finally!!!!

49. Boss/Intern (35yo!Boss!Anakin, 19yo!Intern!Obi-Wan)

(2.4k)

Obi-Wan rubs his hands rapidly down his face. He feels distinctly like he’s about to burst into tears, which would be a very bad thing to do here and now. His supervisor had come in fifteen minutes ago to tell him everyone was going to lunch. She’d invited him along, but he’d said no.

He always says no.

Lunch for the rest of the office means he gets to have a scheduled breakdown at his little cubicle.

He just. He just doesn’t know anything.

He’s only had this internship at Temple Tech for one week and already he’s floundered and fucked up more than anyone else probably has put together in their lifetimes.

He shouldn’t have ever applied, but he had been getting so desperate for summer employment, any sort of employment and, yes, this internship was out of his career field, and yes, he did have to lie at least five times on his resume, but it was an internship and it was paid.

It had felt like a good idea at the time. But then he actually got the job by some stroke of hellish luck, and he’s been learning every day since that it was actually probably a terrible idea. The learning curve is too steep. Obi-Wan is trying, but wow is he bad at it. Tech. Data stuff.

On his open computer, the sound of an email pinging rushes through his ears and he takes his hands off of his face to look. It’s from Anakin Skywalker. The boss.

Obi-Wan thinks he can feel his fingers grow numb. His heart feels like it’s stuttering in his chest, like it’s about to stop once and for all.

Temple Tech is a start-up company, still small but growing quickly. At its head is thirty-five year old Anakin Skywalker, which shouldn’t be any sort of a problem because Obi-Wan’s nineteen now and he can keep it in his pants, even if Anakin is hot as hell, smart as well, and so terribly kind whenever they run into each other.

Which happens a lot. Because it’s a small company, operating out of one renovated warehouse turned office. The floor plan is open enough that Obi-Wan’s able to see Anakin’s space--he gets a proper office, as part of being the boss, but he’s chosen to make the walls glass so it doesn’t feel as if he’s cut off from everyone else--from across the room. And Anakin is big on making everyone who works with him feel like family. A lot of companies say they do that or support that, but Anakin actually does. For one thing, he tells them to call him Anakin, not Mr. Skywalker. For another, he’s open about his personal life, but not so much that it makes anyone feel uncomfortable.

He’s quick with a smile and so understanding, and if he ever gets mad—and from his stories of his younger days, Obi-Wan knows he must have a temper—it’s never been in public.

And Anakin has never commented on how often Obi-Wan blushes around him, or how hard it is for him to focus on his work if Anakin sits on the edge of his desk to talk with him. Or any of the other employees, Obi-Wan has had to remind himself many times. Even though Obi-Wan feels hypersensitive and like a schoolgirl whenever Anakin is in his general vicinity, Anakin is a professional. He’s Obi-Wan’s boss. Nothing could ever happen between them. Not while Obi-Wan works under Anakin.

Even if Anakin is so nice and so kind and has asked to meet him now when everyone else is out of the building. It’s not suspicious and it’s definitely not cause for concern of any kind.

He thinks about shooting back an email, confirming it, but he’s never been good at the whole office environment thing. Instead, he logs off his computer and stands up.

It’s a short walk to Anakin’s office, hardly enough time for his palms to get sweaty.

Anakin’s typing something when Obi-Wan enters the room and he looks up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan says, aghast when he realizes he’s forgotten to knock. “I’m sorry, I--”

“Obi-Wan, come in, please,” Anakin gives him a slight smile and gestures for him to sit on the couch next to his desk. Obi-Wan takes a seat hesitantly. It’s as soft as it’s always looked.

Anakin types for a few more seconds on his computer before pushing away from his desk all together and taking a seat next to Obi-Wan on the couch.

“I’ve noticed you never go out to lunch with your coworkers,” Anakin says, positioning himself so he’s facing Obi-Wan completely. His body language is open, like he’s read one of those business books on how to sit so everyone knows you’re nice but you have an agenda.

It puts Obi-Wan on edge, and he fidgets around on his seat.

“You’re not in trouble, b--Obi-Wan,” his boss murmurs. “I just want to know why. Do you not like them? Have they been mean to you?”

“No!” Obi-Wan denies immediately, looking up at Anakin and biting his lip when he sees that the man’s attention is fixed so squarely on him. “No, of course not. Everyone here has been amazing.” He widens his eyes and raises both eyebrows. “Really, sir.”

Anakin looks distinctly uncomfortable. “I’ve told you to call me Anakin,” he criticizes, and Obi-Wan blushes more.

He’s really messing this up.

“Sorry, sir, I mean. Anakin. Sorry. Anakin,” he coughs. His palms are sweaty. He’s sitting on his attractive boss’s couch when everyone’s gone on lunch, and his palms are sweaty.

He doesn’t even want anything to happen.

Alright, so that’s a lie. He definitely has spent a lot of late nights thinking about something happening between them, just like this, but those are fantasies and Anakin is his boss. More than that, Anakin is a good man. He’d never take advantage of an intern in that way, no matter how frequently Obi-Wan feels as if he’s walking around with a sign around his neck that says, Take Advantage of Me, Mr. Anakin, Sir!

“Why don’t you go to lunch with them, Obi-Wan?” Anakin asks softly, gently.

Obi-Wan’s hands clench down on themselves. It’s really the moment of truth, now. He really can’t keep lying, not when Anakin sounds so concerned. He has no right to be concerned! He shouldn’t care about Obi-Wan at all; hell, he shouldn’t even know him!

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he mumbles, staring down at the stretch of fabric on his knees.

Anakin hums. Obi-Wan wonders if he learned that from his fancy How to Run a Business books as well: don’t say anything, just let the other person talk until you know everything you need to know to crush them.

Damn if the silence doesn’t work to get Obi-Wan speaking again though.

“I...I’m behind on the work,” he admits. “I don’t have time to go to lunch because I need to figure out how to do my work.”

Anakin makes a sympathetic noise deep in his throat. “If...if your workload is too heavy, Obi-Wan, we can look into cutting it. I don’t want to be known as the company that runs its interns into the ground.”

Obi-Wan’s throat tightens too much and he shrugs. He can’t cry. He really shouldn’t cry. He did this to himself. “It wouldn’t help,” he whispers.

“What?” Anakin asks, leaning forward to hear him better.

“It wouldn’t help,” Obi-Wan says again, louder this time. Anakin blinks at him, and Obi-Wan finally tells him the truth. “I don’t know how to do any of this. I...I lied on my resume. I needed a job, for my student visa. I needed the money to keep it while not in school. And...and internships are supposed to look good on your resume, so I...I thought I could figure it out, I’m smart, sir, I’m so smart. I don’t know why I can’t figure it out.”

He drops his gaze to his hands again and breathes out shakily. He’d been carrying the weight of that secret for far longer than he should have been. It should have been a relief of the utmost degree to give it away. But instead he’s waiting for the punishment. Anakin will have to fire him now. Anakin might even get mad at him for lying.

When his boss doesn’t say anything for several long seconds, Obi-Wan chances a glance up at him through his lashes. Instead of anger on his face, there’s only a confused sort of sympathy.

“I’m...not sure I understand, Obi-Wan,” he says slowly. “You lied on your resume to get this internship, but...why couldn’t you have just applied to an internship in a different field? One you actually want to study? I know you like biology, you’ve told me more about biology in the past few weeks than you’ve told me about yourself.”

“None of them wanted me,” Obi-Wan sniffles and hates himself for it. “I tried, I promise. I promise I didn’t want to lie, but I needed the money, and this internship paid so much better than working at a coffeehouse would.”

Anakin puts his hand gently on his shoulder and Obi-Wan can’t stop himself from turning into the pressure of it. “It’s alright,” Anakin murmurs. “Oh no, please don’t--please don’t cry, b--Obi.”

“It’s Obi-Wan,” Obi-Wan wails.

Anakin hushs him. “Alright, Obi-Wan, alright. Let’s see what we can do.”

“You’re going to fire me,” he says with absolute certainty. He doesn’t even much like his job at Temple Tech, but how is he supposed to find another one on such short notice?

Anakin is quiet. He doesn’t say no.

“Look, I’ll try harder, I promise,” Obi-Wan stutters out, turning to look up at Anakin with wet eyes. What a picture he must make. Nothing professional about him at all. Nothing worth keeping around either. “I promise, please, don’t--I’ll--I’ll stay after hours, I’ll work late, come early. I need this job, sir.”

Anakin’s eyebrows furrow and he looks genuinely regretful, which is little comfort. “Obi-Wan, it’s not about...your work ethic. I promise, your work ethic is stronger and better than most of the people on my team.”

Obi-Wan wipes at his eyes hastily. He knows there’s a but coming soon.

“But I can’t...if you’ve lied on your resume, you can’t put Temple Tech there later. That’s not fair for anyone else who applied and was rejected in favor of you. The spot you have...I need someone there who knows what they’re doing with computers. Who wants to be there. Obi, it makes sense that you don’t know anything about tech. You never look like you really want to be here unless you’re talking to someone else.”

Obi-Wan’s bottom lip trembles and he can feel another wave of tears coming. “I understand, sir,” he mumbles, standing up and preparing to leave the office and Anakin Skywalker behind forever. He’s never been fired before. He doesn’t know what the decorum really is in this situation.

Being tugged back and into his boss’ arms doesn’t feel like how it normally goes, though.

But he can’t resist melting into Anakin’s tight hug, rubbing his cheek on the man’s nice shirt. He wants to give him something to remember him by, even if it’s just tear stains on expensive cotton.

“Lemme help you,” Anakin suddenly says, voice very gruff. Obi-Wan freezes in his arms and tilts his head to try and see Anakin’s face. Help him?

“I don’t understand,” he admits, biting his lip.

“I like you, Obi-Wan,” Anakin confesses. “I do. I’ll be sad to see you leave. I was already going to be sad to see you leave when your internship concluded, but this is much sooner. I…”

He trails off as if trying to make up his mind. It doesn’t take him long to nod to himself.

“Be honest,” he warns him, but there’s a joking lilt to his voice. Obi-Wan, personally, thinks that’s a little too soon. “Do you know how to clean house?”

Obi-Wan pulls out of Anakin’s arms to stare at him.

“Or walk dogs,” Anakin adds.

Slowly, Obi-Wan nods. Cleaning up a house and walking dogs feels like something he can figure out how to do. Feels pretty self-explanatory for the most part. The only thing he’s confused by is why Anakin is asking this of him.

“Would you...that is, just for the rest of the summer, until your classes start again--how would you feel about cleaning my house? And walking my dogs?” Anakin seems to hold his breath.

Obi-Wan feels like he’s stepped into the Twilight Zone or something.

“You’re...firing me,” he says slowly. “But...you’re offering me a job? As your….maid?”

“‘We should call it housekeeper,” Anakin says quickly, a pained look flashing across his face. “Too...many connotations with maid.”

“Why?” he has to ask. “I mean. I lied to you, sir. I...you’re firing me.”

“Because I need someone in that position who knows what they’re doing,” Anakin explains slowly.

“Do you want me in another position, sir?” Obi-Wan asks. He blushes furiously as soon as the words are out of his mouth.

Anakin’s eyes darken and he clears his throat. He doesn’t say no, and his silence, the double entendre of his silence, makes the breath catch in Obi-Wan’s throat.

“You said you needed money to keep your visa,” Anakin says. “I’m trying to offer you an honest means of employment. I need someone to keep up my house and walk my dogs. If you can do it, I’d hire you over anyone else in a second.”

“Why?” Obi-Wan whispers, suddenly so very aware of how close they’re still standing to each other, how nice Anakin smells, how handsome he looks with just the beginning of a silver streak at his temple.

Anakin sweeps his gaze over Obi-Wan’s face and chest, and Obi-Wan has to wonder what he sees there. Whatever he does, he must like because he smirks. “Work ethic,” he murmurs.

#probably the next sentence out of obi-wans mouth is 'can you wait like fifteen minutes before you hire me after you fire me'#and anakin is like 'why'#and obi-wan is like 'so i can blow you and have you not be my boss'#and anakin is like 🤭😳😏👀 'baby you can have forty-five'#asks #prompt fill #cant believe i turned kinky boss/intern prompt #into just as kinky maid/boss prompt tbh #anakins about to start working from home a lot more #obikin #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker

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moralesispunk · 3 years

Text

How they tell you they love you

This ended up quite long so I do apologise!

Including: Frankie, Din, Marcus M, Javier, Whiskey, Dave, Ezra, Oberyn and Marcus P

Frankie -

Frankie had known that he was in love with you for a while before he said anything. He had been avoiding relationships - working in the Special Ops wasn’t exactly the easiest job for maintaining one - and that’s why when he met you he tried his hardest to stop himself from falling for you, even though he knew he was. He knew it every time he looked in your eyes, or watched you smile, or heard your voice when you answered the phone. In a few weeks time he would have to go away for a couple of months for work and he would only be able to talk to you through emails whenever he got access to the computer. You had told him that you didn’t want to finish what you had just because he was going away but he couldn’t help the fears that were taking over his whole body. What if you realised you didn’t actually like him when he was away? What if you met someone who you better deserved? What if he scared you off when he came home and had to deal with the nightmares that were always worse when he got back?

That night, as he kissed you good night and felt you fall asleep in his arms, the fears took over once again. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to calm his breathing but the thoughts wouldn’t stop. You stirred in his arms and he opened his eyes to look down at you and suddenly all his thoughts were silenced. He watched the way your eyebrows were furrowed and he wondered what you were dreaming about. He knew in this moment he had to tell you before he got scared again. He gently shook you awake, watching as you opened your eyes, searching until you found his. “Frankie, honey, everything okay?” you asked in your sleepy voice as your propped yourself up on your elbow to look at him. “Everything’s fine. I just- I just had to tell you something,” he said, turning so he was now fully facing you, “I love you”. He watched as a sleepy smile took over your face and how you slowly leaned in to give him a kiss. You pulled away just enough to look in his eyes, “I love you, Frankie”. He couldn’t stop the smile that took over his face as he pulled you back into his arms for you both to fall asleep knowing that he didn’t have to worry anymore.

Din -

Din showed and said he loved in other ways a long time before he actually said those three words. It started with him helping you out, sitting with you and helping while you sorted out the compartments of the Crest to make it more organised. It then moved to taking any excuse to touch you in someway, brushing his hand over your arm as he reached by you for something or letting your hands touch as you walked next to each other. Eventually, one day in the cantina he sat his hand on your leg as you eat your food before moving his arm around your shoulder when other men leered over you.

When the Kid is taken by Moff Gideon, you are part of the team that are on the rescue mission. When travelling to Moff’s cruiser, Din is planning for any outcome. While he wanted to be sure that everything would go fine - he would get the Kid and the Clan of Three would be reunited - anything could go wrong. He watched as you took apart and cleaned your blaster, trying to distract yourself from what was about to happen. He knew he loved you. He knew that was the word for what he was feeling. It wasn’t just care, it wasn’t just friendship, it was a love that filled his whole body with warmth and a feeling of security he had never felt before. You were his home. He moved to sit next to you, slowly taking your hand in his. You looked up to him, giving his hand a squeeze, “we’re going to get him back”. He looked down at you, the confidence in your eyes making him believe wholeheartedly for the first time that you would get him back with no problem. “I love you”. He said it plainly and simply and as he squeezed your hands watched the smile that broke onto your face, “I love you, Din,” whispering his name so no one else would hear.

Marcus M -

Marcus showed you he loved you before telling you through the trust he had for you. He trusted introducing you to Missy. He trusted letting you pick her up from school that time he was running late. He trusted letting you into his heart, the first person he let inside in years.

You and Marcus were meant to have a day to yourselves today while Missy was over at a friends but just as you arrived at their house, Marcus got a call saying Missy’s friend was sick and they would have to cancel. Marcus had told you she had been looking forward to this all week and you could see the look of disappointment in her face. You remembered the science museum you drove by on the way here and decided to offer an idea, “why don’t we all go there today?” Missy turned to her Dad, a massive smile on her face, “can we Dad?” Marcus nods and looks at you, mouthing a thank you. You all pile into his car and drive to the museum. It’s still early enough so you get in quickly and let Missy lead the way. You all stop and read the signs, interacting with everything you can. It reminds you of the science centre you used to go to when you were younger and you can’t stop smiling as you watch Missy run from exhibit to exhibit. Missy grabs your hand to take you over to something she wants to show you and when you both walk away she doesn’t let go. The two of you walk about hand in hand as Marcus walks behind, his heart swelling with how well you both get on. The last stop is the planetarium - where Marcus watches you and Missy more than he looks up at the stars surrounding you. He knows in this moment he wants to tell you how much he loves you. On the drive home, Missy falls asleep in the back of the car and he turns to you. He reaches over and takes your hand in his, watching you turn and smile at him. Before he can stop himself he whispers an “I love you” and watches as your eyes go wide before you smile, squeezing his hand, “I love you, Marcus”.

Javier

It will take a while for Javier to find the actual words. It took long enough for him to allow himself to act on his attraction for you, knowing himself that it was more than just a physical attraction. While you understood, knowing that the only other real relationship he had in his past didn’t exactly end well, you thought by now there would maybe be a little more. He would come by your apartment after it was dark and would leave before the sun came up. He would flirt with you the same way he flirted with the other women in the office (so not to let anyone find out you were together - or as together as you were).

This morning, he woke early as usual and began to get dressed. He tried not to wake you from your sleep, knowing you still had at least another hour before you would have to get up. The sound of dropping his keys woke you, causing you to sit up. “Javier, come back to bed. Why don’t we just go in together,” you said in your sleepy voice. “You know why,” he said, sitting at the edge of the bed. He traced up your leg and side gently, before leaning down for a kiss that you turned away from. He sighed, standing and putting his jacket on before walking out.

Knowing that you wouldn’t get back to sleep you decided to get ready and head in to work earlier than usual. When you arrived, the sun still wasn’t fully up but the place was busy with bodies moving about quickly. Messina called you into her office, asking you to go on a simple operation to where they got a tip El Leon was. You noticed Javi wasn’t in yet and so you and Murphy went together. It was anything but simple and very quickly it went south, resulting in a shot to your shoulder. It wasn’t too bad and was quickly fixed at the closest hospital. Just as the doctor was finishing up stitches, a frantic Javi bursts into the hospital. You can see him from the other side of the hall, watching as his eyes search quickly for any sign of you. Once his eyes meet yours he lets out a breath that he didn’t realise he had been holding in and quickly made his way towards you. The doctor was just walking away as Javi reached you, taking your face in his hands. You let him check you for injuries knowing he wouldn’t stop until he had, noticing the pain that flashed across his face when he seen your shoulder. He took your face back in his hands and gave you a gentle kiss, softer than any shared between you before. “I’m sorry, for everything,” he sighed, “I have to stop being so scared... I- I love you”. You placed your hands over his, “I love you, too, Javier”.

Whiskey

You and Whiskey had been getting on well, having been on more than a few dates by now. You knew you were falling for him and felt that he was feeling the same way in the way his eyes followed you, how he smiled lazily at you in the morning or how he lingered just for a moment every time he had to leave like there was something else to be said.

However, that started to change. He started to become more distant. You worried it was something that you had done wrong, or that you had looked into his actions more than was really there. In truth, it was because Whiskey was scared. The last woman he had loved had been ripped from his life and took him years to get over. He didn’t want to feel that ever again and his job made sure anyone who was close to him was at potential risk. One night, when he was having dinner at yours, you decided to ask him about it. “What? There’s nothing wrong,” he dismissed, asking you a question about work instead. “No, there is something wrong. Tell me,” you pressed. “I- I just can’t see someone else I love be hurt. I can’t let myself get close to someone like that again be taken from me,” he sighs, too caught up in his own thoughts to realise what he really said. “Someone else you what?” you whispered. His eyes widened, realising he had said the word out loud for the first time. He stood and moved round to sit next to you, taking your hands in his. “I love you,” he said, “but I don’t want anything to happen to you and that’s why I’ve been so... distant lately”. You took his face in your hands, “I love you, and nothing is going to happen to me. I’ve got the best cowboy-agent in the world as by boyfriend”.

Dave

Dave would be among the most confident in telling you about his feelings. As soon as he knew that what he was feeling for you was love he would let the words fall out of his mouth with ease.

It would be one morning as you were making breakfast, dancing about quietly thinking he was in the shower. He watches as his shirt from the night before hangs around you, looking better on you than it did on him. He smiles as you turn the radio up, singing along a little louder when one of your favourite song comes on. “Didn’t know I was getting breakfast and a show,” he interrupts. You turn around, placing your hand on your chest, “Jesus, Dave! You almost gave me a heart attack,” you scold as he chuckles, walking towards you now. “Tell me how you look better in that shirt than I do,” he hums as he wraps his arms around your waist, placing his head on your shoulder while you carry on with breakfast. You smile, turning your head to press a kiss to his lips. He knows right now how he feels and he lets the words fall out of his mouth, “I love you”. He kisses the back of your neck gently as you turn your head to meet his lips for a kiss, “and I love you, Dave”.

Oberyn

The Prince’s Garden had become you and Oberyn’s perfect place for some peace and quiet. You could just walk around the garden, holding hands in silence or quietly talking about whatever popped into your minds.

On this particular day, the sun was out and shining, making all the flowers stand a little taller. You hadn’t been talking much, enjoying the presence of one another enough for now. Every so often, he would squeeze your hand, pulling you slightly closer to steal a kiss, before continuing around the garden. You both eventually stop, sitting by the bench where you first met. You had found a poem that day that you wanted to read to him, taking it out of the book you had been carrying around. He watched you in absolute adoration, listening to every word that rolled off your tongue with such beauty and how your voice changed slightly when you smiled at the words. When you finished, you asked him what he thought. “It was beautiful. But not as beautiful as the person who read it,” he replies, making you blush. “Oberyn, you’re too kind,” you say back, reaching for his hand to squeeze gently. “I should be kind to the person I love,” he replies. Your eyes widen and as you try to find the words he turns his body to face you completely, “I love you,” he says with a smile.

Ezra -

Ezra would have no problem telling you he loved you the minute he knew that is what he was feeling. He watches and notices how the sun changes the colour of your eyes slightly, the way the side of your eyes crinkle a little as you squint from the bright light, your hum of contentment as it warms your skin.

He feels his love for you warm his body, running through his chest and spreading everywhere else. He takes your hand in his and tells you just that, “you warm me more than the sun, hold more beauty than the moon, carry more sparkle in your eyes than the stars. I love you, little bird, and I will shout it so the sun, moon and stars and everyone else hears what I have to say”. When you tell him that you love him too he pulls you close to his chest, promising to never let you go.

Marcus P

You have been looking forward to a night in with Marcus all week. You have both been busy with work and today is the first in a while you get to relax together so planned to get some takeout and find a film to watch at his place.

When you arrive, Marcus has the menu for your favourite takeout place sitting out on the table, telling you he was having a look to see what he wanted. You smile at the thoughtfulness, knowing you probably only mentioned it was your favourite once or twice before. When the food arrives, Marcus lets you choose the film, deciding on one you told him about the other night he had never seen before. He ends up spending more time watching you than the film, noticing when you smile or try and hide your tears. At the end of the film you turn to ask him how he enjoyed it but instead he leans in, giving you the most passionate kiss, before breaking away and breathlessly telling you he loves you.

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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

Text

spectators

part 8 of the ‘hey batter batter’ series

paring: Francisco Morales (Frankie, Catfish) x reader

wordcount: 2.6k

warnings: strong language, kissing, enough fluff for a rich person chair

summary: it’s a Triple Frontier baseball AU! Trust me, you don’t need to know anything about baseball.

In this chapter, the Frankie and you appease the people who have been invested in their relationship this whole time.

Pope threw the ball straight up, and caught it.

Then he did it again – he was thinking.

Right hand, then left. Right, left. The ball was in the air less and less time, but the speed didn’t increase. Eventually he was just tossing it straight into his own palm, slowly, thoughtfully, his gaze fixed somewhere far away.

Frankie watched, not even nervous. Of all the reactions he could’ve predicted this was more or less what he expected.

“I’m proud of you,” this throw was for Catfish.

“Thanks.” He caught it.

“You’re fucking lucky,” Pope grinned.

“I know.” Frankie threw it back.

“When is the next date?” Benny plucked it out of the air, a strange look in his eyes. The rest of the team was already back in the locker rooms, but they had held Frankie back, curious. He had spent the morning practice practically glowing, playing well, but suspiciously distracted. Initially, there was an onslaught of teasing and questions and exaggerated berating, but now they had quieted, actually processing this, as friends. Will look satisfied, happy even, but Frankie kicked himself, remembering too late that Ben’s most recent romance hadn’t worked out.

“Tonight – she thinks the parties are bad news,” he said it carefully - Ironhead had been the one to start sharing their pasts with you, but it was really out there now, for you to take or leave. He moved past them towards the showers and he heard Tom snort, making an exaggerated whipping sound. The older man had listened to his abbreviated story with a stoic face, just raised eyebrows and his arms crossed. Frankie’s jaw clenched, wondering if he should retort, but he didn’t get the chance.

It was quiet, but Will added, “She’s not wrong,” in that even, reasonable tone of his. The tension fell, and then rose, sharply, a testament to the respect they all held for the first-baseman's opinion. Trudging through the hallway suddenly felt too fast, too dangerous, like the conversation should’ve stayed outside. A long moment filled only by footsteps as they all considered, before Ben spoke.

“Can I come?” Frankie stopped walking, turning incredulously and Santi smacked the rookie on the back of his head. Benny glared, but without any real bite. “Ow, fuck you - I’d rather hang out than go to another one of those stupid parties, wouldn’t you?” He looked defiant, meeting each of their eyes and gesturing with both of his arms, goading them to answer him, to disagree.

No one did, not even Tom, who glowered, the leather of his glove folded into deep wrinkles. Will’s blue eyes met the brown of Santi’s, and his mouth hooked into a smile. Deep laughter went a long way to thawing tension when it was genuine, and it was.

“Ben, you can’t crash Fish's date, we can do something else,” Will took his own turn smacking his brother but it was a bit of a bold statement. There were days when it felt like they really couldn’t so anything else, like there wasn’t other options that felt real – but they should be able to.

Frankie dragged a hand over his face before groaning a muffled, “Wait,” and sighing. He cursed, not even aware of what language it was in, occupied by the thought of what you would say if you were here. It was ridiculous but it felt right, and it was an opportunity for him to slow down again. “Honestly she would probably love if you guys hung out.”

There was a beat, where they stared at him, before the debate began. It didn’t last long, hushing as they reached the locker room, but by the time they were clean and dried and settled, it was decided. There really wasn’t a downside to it and really, they were all figuring you out, too. The lure of your smiles and home cooked food far outweighed the temptation of loud music and sticky floors and girls too tipsy to talk with, at least this time.

In the lull between the practice and the game, Frankie tried not to jump whenever his phone made a noise. One date in, and he was already daydreaming about just driving to your house and just kissing you until one of you had somewhere better to be. But you had a job, and things to finish so you had time for his game that evening, and he was acutely aware that while you had let that incredible evening – yesterday? – happen, he would need to slow down. He had already told you, he wanted to do this right.

He confirmed the plans for the evening, smiling as you agreed to host all his friends, and then tossed his phone into his bag. Then put a jacket on top of the bag, folded twice so it balanced precariously. When it buzzed he made himself take a lap around the building, and wanted to bang his head against the wall when it was a random email.

And all evening the thought of you. The game rolled in, and he squatted bitterly, annoyed his position left his back to the crowd. It meant he couldn’t look for you, and James. Logically he knew, even if you had told him your exact seats, he wouldn’t be able to make you out unless you were close, but that didn’t stop him from wishful thinking.

Catch, catch, walk, sit, swing, hit, run, walk, sit. Repeat.

The game built, and tensions were high as the scores stayed close and the crowd whispered about playoffs. It was the worst time for him to be batting, the pressure too high to be on the shoulders of a catcher, but it couldn’t be helped.

He walked out, listening to the blast of an old song too familiar to recognize, and the rumble of the announcer.

Frankie looked towards the crowd, knowing you were out there and fruitlessly wishing he could see you. He stopped at the plate, shifting on the balls of his feet, feeling the dirt under his cleats and trying to imagine your eyes on him. His hands tightened, loosened, tightened again, the wrap on the handle of the bat protested the movement, and he tried to hear you whispering his name.

You were cheering for him, right?

The ball hit his bat with a satisfying crack, and he didn’t watch where it went before he ran.

James was stalling.

You were supposed to drive him home, as always, but after spending most of the game filling him in about you and Francisco, there was no convincing him to move faster.

He wanted to see the man who had kissed his granddaughter – more than once! – and look him over again. The sweet, elderly man could be quite determined, especially when it involved two of his favorite people in the whole world. It meant waiting until the crowds fled and dodging staff who would no doubt shoo you away, but the eagerness on his little, wrinkled face made him impossible to deny.

“Jimbo, you’ve already met him,” you tried again, listening to the shrieks of a fangirl. After the surprising home run, the catcher was in high demand, and it made your stomach twist.

You had woken up this morning still shy and baffled at what you were to him, what was happening. So much had happened in such a short amount of time, and you talked a lot, but not about... you, together. But James was certain, this was it, and he wanted to look Francisco in the eyes before he gave you his blessing.

His hand was in your elbow and you tugged, again, before withering under his look. He began lecturing you, about this being his job and you offered a compromise. This time, you weren’t invited, but you guided him towards the lobby where friends and family met the players, and when they let you in, you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding.

Santiago found you first, and both of you got big hugs from him and the Miller boys, as they told you animatedly about how much hell they gave Frankie for bringing you home the first date. You barely got a word in, but you grinned as James joined their indignation.

In truth, your eyes were looking for Frankie, and you chided yourself at how much you ached for him, as always.

After a few minutes, Will pushed you towards the locker room, and you shot him a grateful smile. All the other players were clear, he told you, Frankie was being a baby about facing the fans. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, confirming that he was at loathe to run into anyone but you. They kept your grandfather occupied, and you knew they were in good hands as he was insisting he was hosting game night, that night.

Ducking into the hall, you followed the tile and the gaudy decorations, and found him.

Frankie, your Francisco was freshly showered, tshirt and jeans marked with drips from his curls, fiddling with his phone like he was waiting for you to text back. When he saw you, he dropped it into his bag, and your arms and eyes were suddenly full of him.

It was a crushing hug, he was eager and almost bursting with pride. You made a noise, you know you did, when only your toes were touching the ground, but he didn’t spin you around before he set you down.

He tried to pull away, he really did, but he couldn’t help but stay close, and you could’ve sworn his cheeks were flushed as you congratulated him, telling him admiringly about how exciting his home run was.

Feeling him against you again was surreal. Mere weeks ago you had been watching him from a distance, and then burying ridiculous daydreams under the rug in your mind. And yet here he was, looking at you with the same softness as he had the night before, without regret, and like reality was better than a dream.

When he asked why and how you were here – not that he was complaining, you told him and explained about James. He only smiled, shifting closer to you again, telling you after all you put up with yesterday, he could certainly do this for you.

There was a pause, the air both clear and thick at the same time, and his head tilted, hands shifting on your hips. Thoughts of your family and friends and food slipped from your mind as his face drew closer, the tip of his nose tapping yours.

Brown eyes, searching your face, you almost felt like you could count his eye lashes. Frankie had little freckles, faint, spattered across the tan skin of his neck and face, and there were sweet little sparse patches in his beard.

“You know, we wont get any time alone, tonight.”

His tone was thoughtful, but he said it like he almost didn’t hear himself, and you could feel the edges of the words against your lips.

The hand on your hip slid up. Up and up, until it settled on the back of your head and he was pressing into you. Frankie’s kisses were deep and slow, like he couldn’t believe last night was not a figment of his imagination, and you wound your arms around him before you got lost in them. There were words in them, distant proclamations and promises and you pulled him into you, yearning to hear them clearly.

It could’ve been a minute or half an hour, between that moment and when he pulled away. With shock, you realized you had been pushed against the locker with his name on it, and his palm was cushioning your head.

There was a clatter of aluminum against the floor, and you jumped like caught teenagers. Then you were firmly planted on the ground again, and Frankie was turned around, shielding you like it was already instinct. Neither of you saw anyone, and his laughter was bashful and sweet. When he said you should probably go, and took your hand, you heard a genuine roughness in his voice.

Behind another row of lockers, Molly whispered into Tom’s neck, “Do you need to go, too? There’s that party tonight.” And he shrugged.

The environment at James' home was completely different than last time they were there. Things were less clean, there was less food, and everyone was twice as comfortable.

It was strange, what really knowing them did - they teased you more, and breathed easier, as if they had never met someone who hadn’t minded it all.

“Juice packets?” Will asked, confused at the drink selection, and you smiled when Santi winked at you. Tom hadn’t come but you thought it would be best to play it safe. It was important to you, that if they were choosing this over a party that it was lighthearted, sincere and simple.

“I just thought it would be fun,” you gave as your only explanation and he didn’t question it further. He did drink them three at a time, though, and when you laughed, you swore you saw his smile lines.

Benny was on your team, yelling and by far the most competitive, Santi and Will’s luck encouraging it every step of the way. They bickered like kids, bellowing laughter and rambunctious celebrations included. You made an extra rule – anyone who hit you with a pillow or playing piece had to buy you ice cream, next time the opportunity came up.

If should’ve been distracting, how James had pulled Frankie to the side to talk, but it warmed your heart. You didn’t need to swoop in and rescue him – they were talking like old friends, like Frankie was genuinely interested and invested in your beloved grandfather.

Every once in awhile, he would look up and meet your eyes, watching you with his friends with one corner of his mouth pulling higher. Once, you blew him a kiss and he scrunched his nose, like it hit him between the eyes.

Later, you scooted over to them, trying to steal him back, James leaned over and ruffled your hair before sternly, adorably telling you to let him have his turn with Frankie. When Frankie joined him, jokingly telling you to back off, you thought if it didn’t work out with him, Jimbo would adopt him.

The night stretched beautifully late, before your grandfather lectured them on the importance of sleep and Benny spun you around in victory. There were stars in the sky, and you listened to their chatter fade as they piled into their cars, surprised at how affectionate you felt for all of them, after so little time and such unlikely circumstances.

Frankie had stayed back, accepting goodbye hugs, and leaning against your car as you waved the other’s off. Of course, you asked, but he didn’t tell you what they talked about and he didn’t linger as long as you had hoped he would.

His kiss was sweet and chaste, like he knew he had all the time in the world.

taglist:

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hey batter batter taglist:

@icanbeyourjedi @studyofawearymind @hnt-escape @athalien @the-witty-pen-name @daffodin @sarahjkl82-blog @pintsizemama @anaaaispunk @pjkimrn @dobbyjen @stuckontheceiling

#francisco morales #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie x you #frankie x reader #catfish x you #triple frontier baseball au #hey batter batter #maybe i don't know people

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keullaesigbeogeo · 3 years

Text

GOT7 Reaction: When They Hear You Say, “Don’t Waste Time”

Jackson Wang:

Jackson walked towards the door to see what you were doing in your room all day. He tried to push the handle down to open it, only to find out that it was closed.

“Hey… what are you doing in there all day?” He called through the door. You freaked out, quickly changing your clothes and picking up your phone.

“I’ll call you back.” You tried to whisper, hoping he wouldn’t hear. “But please don’t waste time. I need it soon.” You opened the door quickly, tossing your phone on the bed.

“Who were you talking to?” Jackson pushed passed you towards the bed, picking up the phone. Your eyes widened before you ran towards him, hanging onto his arm, trying to steal your phone back. His eyes narrowed before he started looking through your contacts. “Who’s Seonghyun?” He started scrolling even more, wanting to see what was up.

You bent down, trying to get your weight to make him fall down. He didn’t.

“You even talked to him for over an hour!” He carefully pushed you off of him before running out with your phone. You stood there, stunned before following him.

You both ran for about ten minutes before he stopped in front of a house. “This is where that Seonghyun guy lives, right?” He knocked on the door before someone finally opened it.

“May I help-” They started their sentence, only to be interrupted.

“I need to see a guy names Seonghyun… I have to talk to him.” Jackson’s face was starting to look sad, but he kept it in.

“But that’s me?” The girl holding the door open answered. Jackson’s head whipped towards you. “I thought you were talking to a guy.”

You shrugged, still panting from the run. “You didn’t ask me.” You laughed before walking up towards Seonghyun holding your hands out. “Can I have it now?”

She nodded before going inside and grabbing a box before walking back out. “Here you go. Remember to wear it soon, I want to see pictures!” She handed you the box before closing the door on both of your faces.

“Well… that was a nice walk in the park wasn’t it?” Jackson asked while slinging his hands around your shoulders.

You snorted. “I guess you could say that. I can’t believe you actually bothered to look at her location… but at least this saves me the time of coming here later.” You moved your free hand to his back, clutching back onto him as you both walked.

BamBam ( Kunpimook Bhuwakul):

“Hey, are you done yet? Or do I need to come in there and help you?” BamBam shouted through the house.

“Wait!” You moved the phone away from your ear. “Give me a minute.” You brought the phone back towards your mouth before whispering. “So I’m taking that you understand what I’m talking about?”

“Yeah, when do you want me to come over?” Their voice was low, like they were doing something illegal.

“Anytime before the end of the week, just don’t waste time.” BamBam quickly barged into the bedroom, grabbing the phone out of your hands. He moved it up towards his ear before speaking.

“Hello, this is her husband speaking. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to teach her a little lesson.” He cut the phone, setting it on the table before speaking to you.

“You know that that’s my-” You started to speak before he cut you off.

“I don’t care who it is.” His eyes narrowed. “What did you mean when you told them to not waste any time?”

You tilted your head. “Well, they wanted to come over so I-”

“Why would you bring someone over without telling me?” His voice was desperate, wanting to know what you were doing without telling him.

“Because it’s my mom?” You were starting to question whether BamBam was okay. His face started to get very red before he grabbed your phone. He started scrolling through your call log before he saw who you were talking to.

He threw his head back, silently screaming. “Give me a minute…” He sat on the bed, throwing the covers around himself before having a mental breakdown.

You giggled before grabbing your phone and taking a picture. “Mom would love to see this.” You whispered before sending it to her.

Park Jinyoung:

You sat on the couch, talking to your friend. You guys were talking about your boyfriends, and how you wouldn’t trade them for anyone.

“There’s this one guy that I really like though…” Your friend started to talk. You wasted no time in piling them with question.

“Name? Age? Are they nice? Will they get along with me? Do you really like them? When will you confess? Can I be the godmother?” She pushed her hand on you mouth.

“I’m planning on it. Maybe sometime today, I’ll see them at the party we’re having at work anyways.” You looked towards the time before quickly pulling your friend up.

“Then go get ready! What are you doing here with me? It starts in three hours! So get your pretty ass ready, don’t waste time!” You pushed her out of the door, making sure she was fully out safely before walking back inside towards the couch, sitting back down.

You turned your head towards the right, screaming loudly when you see Jinyoung sitting there, staring at you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You shrieked, still scared.

“Don’t waste time?” He pulled a knife out of his pocket, at well as a cloth.

He started cleaning it, making sure it was almost spotless. You nodded, scared at what he was going to do.

“Yeah…” Your eyes were fixated on the knife, not moving.

“Don’t waste time in what?” He scraped the side of the knife on his hand, making sure it was clean.

“Well, Eun wanted to confess to her crush so I was telling her to do it quickly… Why do you even have a knife in the living room? Take it to the kitchen!” You stood up, pulling him with you towards the kitchen. “By the way, why did you want to know?” You grinned. “Were you jealous?”

He snorted. “What do you mean jealous? I’m Jinyoung. I don’t get jealous.” You nodded your head knowingly.

“Okay then… want to go get ice cream?” His head shot up towards yours, his face showing his excitement.

“Yes! Let’s go!” He started to run outside the house.

“Wait!” You called him. “The knife!” He looked at you.

“I’ll just take it with me. We’ll get through the line quicker.” You laughed at his logic before running behind him.

“Wait for me!”

Mark Tuan:

“Well, don’t waste time!” You let out a gasp as you laughed, talking on the phone. “Yeah, I understand. Get going. Remember to tell me how it goes!” You cut the phone before turning around, walking towards the doorway.

“Stay there.” You turned around, meeting Mark’s eyes.

“Okay?” You watched as Mark got up, pulling you closer and sitting on the bed, patting the spot next to him.

“So who were you on the phone with?” He asked you, placing his hands on top of yours.

“Oh...him…” You purse your lips. “I was talking to Hangyeol.”

He stared at you. “Who?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Hangyeol… my brother?” You were confused at what was happening. “You know who he is… you met him not that long ago…” He nodded his head, which obviously showed that he was confused.

He got up and grabbed his phone, scrolling through his contacts. “Ooohhhh, the only guy other than me who wasn’t married yet.”

“Yeah.” You nodded your head.

“So why did you tell him not to waste anytime?” He asked you, getting closer to you.

“He said he’s going to propose to Aera. Isn’t that cute? I’ve always seen them together.” You clasped your hands together, fangirling like a true girl.

Mark just nodded his head before kissing you on your forehead. “Just don’t scare me like that again.”

“Huh? I scared you?” You were confused. How the heck does he get scared now but not when there’s a spider?

“Nothing.” He hugged you, pulling both of your bodies onto the bed. “Let’s just stay like this.” You nodded your head, snuggling into his warm chest.

Jay B ( Lim Jae-beom):

“Yes, thank you so much.” You calmly spoke through the phone.

“Do you think you could have it by next week or earlier.” The voice asked you through the phone.

You nodded your head. “Yeah, I believe I should be able to do that.”

“Good, just remember the motto my father went by, ‘Don’t waste time’.”

“Don’t waste time?” You repeated after him.

“Yes, there you go. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some other calls to take.” They cut the line immediately after speaking, not allow room for any questions.

“Who was on the phone?” Jaebeom waltzed through the door happily.

“My boss.” You replied quickly, checking to make sure you didn’t have any unread emails.

“Are you sure?” He was still smiling at you as he grabbed your phone and looked through it before placing it beside you.

“Is that enough proof?” Your eyes were still fixed onto your computer as you talked to him.

“Yeah, but you know that ‘don’t waste time’ thing?” You nodded your heat at his question. “Well, I’m not going to.”

This got your attention. Your whole body turned towards his. “Don’t waste time in what? Aish, don’t tell me your going to break up with me…”

He shook his head quickly. “No! Why would you think that? I just wanted to do this…”

He pulled your computer away from you, placing it near your phone before laying completely on top of you. His arms hugged you before he flipped your both over, you now on top of him.

“I’m not wasting time, am I?” He asked you. You shook your head, staring at him. You suddenly dropped your head on his chest, letting out a sigh of relief.

“You better not break up with me… I love you too much.” You whispered, hoping he wouldn’t hear.

“Aww!” He almost screeched in your ears. “I love you too!” He squished your body on top of his.

“Hey… I think my chest might become chutney…” You let out, trying to breathe.

“Chutney?” He asked you.

“You don’t know what… nevermind.” You moved down to hug him properly, not wanting to ruin the moment.

Choi Youngjae:

You sat down on the couch next to your mom. “Please hurry up. The faster this is done, the better…”

“Well, I’m trying so be patient!” She smacked your leg while applying the cream.

You whined, holding your thigh. “Mom!” You looked at her with sad eyes. She snorted before smacking you lightly on the head.

“Sometimes I wonder how you popped out of me…” Your head turned faster than ever towards her face.

You pointed towards your burn. “Can you apply it now? Don’t waste time…” Your mom’s eyes darkened before she raised her hand to smack you again.

“What’s going on here?” Youngjae opened the door, making you quickly straighten up your shorts.

“She’s-” You started to speak before your mom cut you off.

“She’s not letting me apply cream on her burn… can you do it?”

You stared at you mom, looked at Youngjae, then back at your mom before sighing.

“Mom… I believe you can sp-” She cut you off again.

“See? She really wants for you to spread it!” She got up, stuffing the cream in his hands before walking off. “Tata!” She sang as she walked off.

You both watched her retreating figure before Youngjae moved towards you on the couch, sitting down.

“Don’t waste time… why did I think that you were with another guy for a minute?” He asked you, meeting your eyes.

“Another guy? What do you think I am?” Your voice came out offended, which you were.

“My girlfriend.” Your face got red before you held out your hand.

“Here, I’ll apply it…” You waited for him to hand you the cream.

“No, it’s fine. I got it.” You stayed still as he slowly rolled up your shorts, his hands lingering on them for sometime before they moved towards the bottle of cream.

He slowly squeezed it, making sure you saw it before applying it. You shivered at the newfound temperature.

“Don’t worry, it won’t be that cold soon.” You looked at Youngjae confused.

“What do you mea-” You suddenly blushed at as you felt his hands slowly brush against your panties.

You saw him smirk before he got up, closing the cream. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I should probably rinse the extra cream off.” He walked away, leaving you with your red face.

Kim Yugyeom:

You held your nieces head as you burped her before setting her on her bed.

“Come on Chohee. You have to wake up early tomorrow.” She just giggled before sucking on her thumb. “Don’t waste time.” You picked her back up, bouncing up and down, hoping that she would fall asleep.

You continued for a little more until she finally fell asleep. Just as you were going to place her back on her bed, Yugyeom walked through the door frame.

“Don’t waste time in what?” He whispered, making sure not to wake Chohee up.

“Falling asleep…” You said, glancing at him before placing Chohee on her bed.

“Then how about you don’t waste any time?” He asked you before clinging onto you.

You stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“I mean… Chohee’s asleep.” He replied.

“And?” You waited for him to continue, even though you knew exactly what he wanted.

“So now it’s time for my baby time.” He pulled your towards your bed in the other bedroom before laying down.

He held his hands out expectantly. You smiled before coming onto the bed behind him. You placed your right leg in between both of his legs before spooning him.

“Is that better?” You asked him. He nodded his head.

“Yeah… can we do this more often?” He asked you.

You looked at him weirdly. “But we always do this whenever we both have free time.”

“I mean when Chohee’s asleep. There’s no need for you to watch her when she’s sleeping. It’s not like she’s just going to get up and start walking…” He reasoned with you.

You shrugged before pecking his forehead. “You never know. That kid might seem cute, but is a devil on the inside.”

Yugyeom shivered. “Tell me about it… she even takes up my cuddle time with you.”

You just giggled before pulling his towards you, patting his back.

#got7 #got7 jackson #got7 mark #got7 jinyoung #got7 jay b #got7 jayb #got7 bambam #got7 yugyeom #got7 youngjae #reaction #got7 reaction #got7 x reader #got7 x reader reaction #keullaesigbeogeo

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platypanthewriter · 3 years

Text

Guess Again

Day Four of Harringrove AUgust, Profession AU! Steve runs into a hot guy named Billy on his plane flight back to Indianapolis, and Billy lies about what he does for a living, then, laughing, admits he lied. The prize for this guessing game: an exchange of phone numbers.

Steve found his seat, in coach, because that was the only seat available on the overbooked flight into Indianapolis a week before Thanksgiving. He shoved his carry-on under the seat, and wedged himself in the limited leg room, opening his laptop to answer the emails that had been pinging his phone before the plane was ready to take off, and he—blessedly—had to go into airplane mode.

He barely even noticed the guy wedging himself in to sit by the window, and trying to get the damn table to stay up. Steve typed away as the busted table mechanism flapped onto the guy’s lap over and over. Finally, Steve grimaced, glancing over. “You can use my table,” he offered, registering only that the guy was tattooed, and kinda...hot. “I’ll put this away as soon as we taxi to the runway.”

“It’s fine,” the dude said, smacking the floppy table with a sigh. “Not like there’s a meal on this flight.”

“You can lean in and share my pretzels,” Steve told him, grinning over, and was met with big, long-lashed blue eyes, an annoying mustache, and curls that curved around an attractively firm jaw.

The guy nodded, and put the broken table away. “...kind of a workaholic?” he asked, probably because it was nearly ten o’clock at night, and Steve was glaring at his screen and typing emails like his survival depended on a high word count.

He snorted a laugh. “I left them all until now,” he said, grimacing. “They really don’t need my input, but if I replied earlier, they’d just ask me something else. Something they could google.” He narrowed his eyes at an email from a coworker who’d actually emailed to ask for exact details of what was allowed under the sexual harassment policy. Talk to HR, he sent back. Creep, he thought. He finished the last of the replies, hoping he wasn’t sending anything too weird in his distraction, and closed his laptop. “Um. Sorry. What do you do?”

“I sell life insurance,” the guy said immediately, with a toothy grin. “I’ll sell you so much insurance on this flight.”

“Uh,” Steve said, blinking at him. “Umm...oh.”

“That’s a lie,” was the dude’s followup, and Steve stared at him, starting to regret his offer to share a table, or catch the flight at all. “I don’t sell life insurance, I swear. I promise,” the guy said, laughing. “God, your face. I just...my job is...I started telling people I sell life insurance, so they wouldn’t talk to me.”

“I can just sit over here,” Steve offered, pretending to zip his lips.

“No, no, it’s, uh. Sorry I lied. Talk to me, it’s a long flight.”

“Why do you have to lie?” Steve had to ask, and the guy grimaced.

“My job’s kinda awkward,” he said, laughing.

“Are you a...porn star?” Steve asked, trying to figure out what kind of job would get the worst people to talk to you, and the dude cracked up.

“Jesus, no, but thanks for the ego boost,” he said, and Steve snorted a laugh.

“Um. What about…” Steve thought, opened his mouth, and then closed it. “Can I guess?” he asked, grinning, and the guy snickered.

“Sure. Give it your best shot. Just don’t tell me any horror stories.”

“Do you embalm bodies?” Steve tried, already holding back a tide of questions, like did you ever drop one and have to fix a broken nose.

“Nope!” said the guy, turning to lean more against the window, to face Steve. “How many tries do you want before I just tell you?”

“Oh, no, no, lemme guess,” Steve said, thinking as they came around asking for drink orders. “Horror stories...um. Are you a soldier?” he asked, wide-eyed, and the guy laughed again.

“No! No, nothing like that.” He leaned to see Steve’s ID as Steve pulled it out to order a beer, and Steve grinned.

“I’m Steve.”

“Billy,” said his mysteriously-employed seatmate, offering his hand, and Steve flipped it over investigatively.

“You don’t have those, like, love/hate knuckle tattoos,” he said, feeling like a detective. “So...maybe not a biker?”

“I’m not a biker,” Billy snickered. His hand was warm in Steve’s. “Is that even a job?”

“Oh! Oh!” Steve leaned forward, sure he had it this time, and Billy moved the armrest between them out of the way. “A writer?”

“What?!” Billy laughed, which probably meant Steve was wrong, but he argued his point.

“People tell you horror stories,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “So—so probably everybody tells you they have a great idea for your next novel—”

“No, uh. One clue,” Billy said, grimacing. “They’re true stories.”

“True stories,” Steve said, going to cross his arms in thought, and realizing Billy hadn’t taken his hand back. “Uh, what do I get if I guess right?” he asked, squeezing Billy’s hand, and Billy snorted a laugh, grinning like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening.

“I dunno, I feel like Rumpelstilzkin, you want like my firstborn or—”

“No, nope,” Steve made a face. “I got enough kids around, thanks. Oh—” he blinked, realizing how that sounded as Billy started to pull his hand back, and lean away, “—not, like, I’m not a dad, I don’t have a wife and kids or anything. I just have some little shitheads that come over all the time and eat all my popsicles and pizza.”

“Oh good,” Billy said dryly. “I’d feel terrible if holding my hand ruined your marriage.”

“No other knuckles can fulfill me, now,” Steve said soulfully, and then when Billy burst out laughing, Steve couldn’t hold a straight face.

“You know how fucking dirty that sounds, right,” Billy whispered, rubbing his face with the hand Steve wasn’t holding, and Steve snorted a laugh.

“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to get you to fist me on the plane,” he hissed back.

“Coward,” Billy shot back, and then they started giggling again, like they were ten.

“True horror stories,” Steve repeated, later, as they leaned together over the napkin on his tiny airplane table, where he was keeping track of the guesses he’d already made. “True horror stories. Are you a reporter?”

“God no,” Billy said, making a face. “Imagine this many tattoos in front of the news cameras? We’ve got a ways to go before they allow that.”

“Oh, true,” Steve nodded. “I mean, unless you worked for, like, a tabloid. Circling everyone’s stomach in pictures and writing ‘BABY BUMP?!’ on it.”

Billy jumped when Steve yelled ‘BABY BUMP’, and half the plane twitched and mumbled. “Fuck no!” he hissed, laughing. “Ssh!”

“Huh,” Steve said, studying the napkin. “Oh! Um,” he grimaced. “Police officer?”

“No,” Billy growled, and Steve nodded, writing that down and crossing it out, and sipping his third beer. “We never worked out what you got if you guessed,” Billy said, watching.

“Oh, yeah,” Steve agreed, nodding. “Uh, what about...dinner?”

“We’re gonna land at like six in the morning,” Billy pointed out, and Steve fingergunned him.

“Breakfast.”

Billy laughed. “I dunno if I’m willing to put out on our first plane trip together.”

“Lemme get you, like, bacon and eggs,” Steve said, leaning in and waggling his eyebrows, “—and my phone number.” He smirked as Billy cackled, leaning his head in the window.

“Yeah, okay. Gimme some breakfast sausage, Steve,” he said softly, the overhead reading light making his curls glow a little, like a halo.

“Now I haveta figure it out,” Steve said, frowning at his list, and Billy’s fingers twitched towards him. Steve grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together, and accepted another beer from the flight attendant. “I wonder how many beers that is,” he said, prodding at the label with his thumbnail. “I think they’re like ten bucks a pop.”

“I bet the alcohol will really help you think,” Billy said dryly, and Steve made a face at him.

“Shut up, I got it. I got it this time,” he said, tipping his head back for a long, satisfying drink of beer, and wiping his mouth. Billy’s mouth hung a little open when he finished, and Steve licked his lips, grinning. “You—you’re a doctor. A—a doctor of butts. A butt-doctor.”

Billy started laughing so hard, silently, that Steve was starting to wonder whether he could breathe.

“I’m right, right?” Steve said, taking a triumphant swig, and Billy shook his head, wheezing for air.

“You mean a proctologist?!” he gasped.

“Yeah, and you understood fine,” Steve told him, annoyed.

“I’m not—I’m not a butt doctor,” Billy choked out, tears of laughter in his eyes. “I don’t have a doctorate in ass—”

“Your loss,” Steve muttered, glaring at the napkin with the list. “Man, my cousin is one, and he has some stories. Dude, that’s everything, that’s every damn job. Ever. Do zookeepers get told horror stories?! Oh!” He pointed the beer bottle at Billy. “Dentist!”

“No,” Billy giggled, his hair rising with static in the dry air of the plane, and sticking to the wall and window behind him. He looked ruffled and fond, and Steve squeezed his hand again, trying to think of what he’d missed, before the plane landed, and he’d spent the entire flight guessing jobs, and Billy hadn’t even given him a last name.

“Shit,” Steve said, then straightened again. “No, okay, this time,” he said, the beer making his words a little soft around the edges, “This time I really have it. You’re a Mickey Mouse person.”

“I’m a what now,” Billy said, still snickering.

“You know,” Steve said, his eyes narrowed. “You crawl up the ass of one of those suits and let kids think you’re a Disney princess.”

“No, Harrington,” Billy said, breathlessly, as he shook with laughter. “No, I do not. Do people tell mascots horror stories?! I don’t even want to know. Which princess? Just for scientific curiosity, Steve, which princess do I crawl up the ass of, in your brain?”

Steve tried to remember them all. “Not Jasmine,” he said with certainty. “Um. Wait, Peter Pan? Maybe?”

“Peter Pan’s not a princess,” Billy choked out, wiping his eyes as he tried to muffle his laughter.

“Hrm,” Steve said, accepting another beer and huffing a sigh, but Billy leaned in suddenly and just kissed him. His lips were warm and chapped, and Steve hummed happily against them. Their teeth bumped, a little, because Billy was giggling so hard, and Steve was grinning so wide his cheek muscles ached.

“I’m a drug and alcohol counselor,” Billy said with a grimace, and Steve glared at his beer, betrayed, "—so, um, horror stories. Yeah."

"I just have butt-doctor horror stories," Steve said quickly, trying to salvage the situation, and he shoved his beer behind him.

Billy laughed harder, shaking his head. "I’ll still take that number,” he whispered, kissing Steve again—and snickering, his cheeks flushed. “And breakfast?”

Here’s my other Harringrove stuff! Or check out the Harringrove AUgust collection on Ao3! Add something! =D

#Harringrove AUgust #Harringrove #Profession AU #Meet-cute #Fluff and banter

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nite-shay · 3 years

Text

My Neighbor: Hawks - (Takami Keigo / Hawks x Reader

Funny Idea: Your neighbor is hawks.

Winged hero: Hawks. One of the fastest and youngest heroes pro heroes. Number 2 in hero ranks and number 1 in most eligible bachelors in all of Japan.

And drum roll, please! *Drummy sounds* Tada! He is your neighbor! Shocking, I know, right? The title totally doesn't give it away! Nope, not at all!

Anyways, you might be wondering, 'Nite! How did that happen?'

Well.. ya see... that funny story…

Also, sorry for any typo :)

Enjoy!

Notes: reader is 20+. No warning. Mild rating.

****

"Please be fixed. Please be fixed. "You quietly prayed as you hesitantly reached for the handle that leads to the lobby of your apartment building.

The leasing office sent out a mass email earlier, letting all the tenants know that the central air was 'currently out of order' and they are 'working quickly to resolve the issue.' At least they were 'extremely sorry for any inconvenience this may cause and appreciate the patience of all tenants.'

They also explained how per the lease agreements, no discounts would be provided for maintenance issues and that the full rent would still be due.

I really need to move…

It just had to go out right smack dab in the middle of summer. And on one of the hottest days on record, no less!

You took a deep breath and pushed open the door into what could only be described as a magma cavern. Nope, you weren't on a tropical island; this was just the lobby. Damn, if it was this hot here, you can't imagine what your apartment must feel like.

You trudged your way through the muggy lobby grabbing your mail on your way over to the stairwell. By the time you made up to the very top floor, you were out of breath and drenched in sweat. Honestly, it looked like you just took a dip in a pool. Your clothes clung to every part of your sticky, overheating body. Hell, you were just happy you didn't have a heat stroke by the time you reached your front door.

You prayed your apartment would be cooler.

It wasn't!

It was giving the stairwell a run for its money.

Oh, hell no... NOPE! Not dealing with this.

You marched through the doorway, making sure to lock the door behind you, not like it would make much of a difference. You didn't see or hear anyone on the trip up or in the hallways. No doubt the other residences did the smart thing and retreated for someplace much cooler. You tossed the stack of mail on your end table without checking it. You'd deal with it later. More than likely, the postal carrier had mixed them up again with the tenant next door.... again...

Later problem for later me! Cool now!

You barely made it to your living room before you started peeling your sweat-soaked clothes off. Thankfully you lived alone, so you didn't have to worry about shocking anyone as you made your way to your bedroom. Tossed your clothes in the hamper before slipping into the thinnest shorts and tank top you could find. You would have said to hell with clothes in general at this point, but if you were going to cool this place off, you need to get some airflow in this place asap. That means windows and doors need to be open.

And for the next hour, that's what you did. Every window you had was open as far as they would go, along with the sliding glass door that led to your balcony. The breeze that flowed through your home was still hot and muggy, but it was then nothing. You also gather any and every fan you had, even the pitiful little desk fan that sounded like it was on its last leg. If it ocellated or moved air in any way, shape, or form, that bitch was on high!

It took a little bit, but it felt like you could breathe as the temperature started to drop. Of course, by then, you were on the verge of dehydration and also contemplated, more than once, curling up in your fridge until that accursed flaming ball of gas in the sky went down.

But you had food in there, and you can't waste food. Damn it.

Speaking of food...

You enjoyed a large bowl of ice cream and about three glasses of water. You reveled in the coolness of the sweet treat in your stomach, which gave you motivation for your next venture.

A nice cool shower.

You let the cool water flow over your whole body for what seemed like forever. Letting it wash away the stress, heat, and sweat of the day right down the drain. By the time you were done, your fingers were pruney, and the sun had descended entirely.

Damn, you were tired.

You lazily dried yourself and considered just going to bed as you were. You were on the 15th floor of your apartment building, so it wasn't like you had to worry about anyone peeking in your window. But you still didn't feel comfortable sleeping naked with your windows opened, and you really didn't want to close them.

After a short debate, you settled on a thin tank, and underwear was a good compromise.

Your body felt sluggish as you made your track to your bedroom. It was still relatively early, but between your job and the heat, you were completely and utterly wiped.

Bed... Sleep...

You showed your bed no mercy as you tore the covers off the nicely made bed and tossed them across the room. Then with no grace whatsoever, you let yourself collapse into the cool embrace of your mattress. Between the comfort of your bed and the white-nose of the fans, it didn't take long for drifted off to sleep.

***Later that night

The summer night air was hot and humid as the Wing hero: Hawks, flew high above the city. Even at the higher altitude, the air was so thick, it felt like he was swimming in a dense swamp rather than soaring through the sky. His whole body felt sore and heavy, so much so that he was actually an effort to keep himself afloat.

Damn, that villain really did a number on me. One more hit, and my goose would have been cooked.

The shift today had been long and hard, thanks to a tough group of villains that left him banged up and exhausted. He ended up having to get patched up at a hospital. The doc that ended up putting him back together tried to get him to stay, but he managed to talk him into agreeing on releasing him. Though, he would have flown the coupe either way. He couldn't stand hospitals or clinics. Not that there was anything wrong with those places. They just reminded him too much of the commission. Orderly. Sterile. Functional.

Which is nice for a hospital, not for life. He has almost 20 years of experience with it to make him an expert on that subject.

Shit got old quick….

Though honestly, it wasn't like his place was much better. It was a simple bed, one bath apartment. Top floor, of course, with a balcony that looked over the inconspicuous neighborhood it was built in. Now being the number two hero, you'd think he makes enough to live somewhere a bit more… well, expensive. But while he did live the high life, it was nice to have a place he could go and just be Keigo, not Hawks.

And speaking of, he could see his balcony coming into view.

He swooped down over the rallying, stumbling a bit in the landing. It was pitch black, and his eyes felt as heavy as his body. Thankfully, though, he didn't fallout then there. Camping wasn't his thing, and while the balcony was rather spacious, his bed sounded much more comfortable.

Ahh, home sweet home.

That's weird. Did I forget to lock the door again?

He shrugged, not giving it much thought. He'd been in a hurry this morning, getting called in for an emergency issue downtown. And it wasn't like the first time he'd forgotten to lock the door behind him. Plus, he lived on the top floor; it's not like he had to worry about people just walking in off the streets.

Lot easier targets than his humble abode.

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Damn, it was hot. He must have forgotten to turn the AC on this morning. The apartment was hot and muggy, but he honestly couldn't have cared less. An oven sounded like a good place to take a nap at this point. His body started moving on its own towards the bedroom, stripping out of his hero costume along the way.

Bed. Sleep. Bed. Sleep. Bed. Sleep.

His mind chanted over and over, clothes would be tomorrow's problem. He didn't even bother turning on any lights as he maneuvered through the living room and down the hallway. He'd lived there for over a year, so he knew the layout like the back of his hand.

By the time he made it to his bed, he was down to only his boxers. He was about to pull those down, too, but the moment his legs came in contact with the mattress, it was like whatever energy was left was drained out of him.

He sighed and let his body fall forward across the bed that would give him the sweet relief he so desperately needed.

Thump!

Huh? Why did his mattress feel all lumpy?

A loud shriek jolted him back to life long enough to realize that he was not alone. That the lumps in his bed weren't his covers, but a body.

There was a person in bed.

He shifted his weight, forcing himself up as the body under him started to trash and yell.

"Huh? What are you doing in my-" He managed to murmur out before a sharp pain to the side of his head finally did him in, and his mind gave in to the darkness of unconsciousness.

********

Your dreams were a God sent.

You were in a winter wonderland. Cool snowflakes danced all around. A cool breeze would blow every now again. It was like you could hear the clinking sound of ice hitting the window. Oh, what was that? The sound of heavy snow falling from the tree limbs? How wonderful!

So wonderful. So peaceful. So cool.

But everything changed when you were jolted awake by something pinning you to your bed. Whatever it was, was large, heavy, and sweaty.

You shrieked as you realized it was a person! There was a person on top of you! You trashed about trying to push the weight off of you, but you couldn't seem to get them off you. You screamed louder and struggled harder until their weight shifted.

"Huh?" The voice above you was drowsy sounding definitely that of an adult male. Your panic doubled as he shifted again, giving you a little more wiggle room. You still couldn't get free, but you took the opportunity to reach for something, anything to defend yourself with. Like hell, you were going down without a fight! Finally, you managed to wrap your fingers around something large on your bedside table. "What are you doing in my-?" You didn't let your attacker finish as you bashed the lamp into the side of his head.

He let out a loud 'off' as he rolled off the bed, giving you enough time to scrabble to the opposite side of the bedroom, hitting the lights.

Were those....wings?

Peaking over the side of the bed was, in fact, crimson feathers.

Who or what the fuck is that?

*******

Hawk's head pounded as he slowly stirred.

Shit, did he get drunk last night?

Slowly he opened his eyes, wincing from the light flooding the room along the memories of the night before. That's weird; he didn't remember turning on any lights.

Was it morning already?

He went to stretch his sore, aching body but quickly realized he couldn't.

He glanced down at himself and saw that yeap he was in his boxers and tied- wait.... were those power cord and... belts?

He blinked. What the hell? His upper body was bound in what looked to be a mix of various power cords and belts. Did someone break into his place and attack him?

Who in their right mind would break into his house? He was a hero! One of the top in the country!

He sighed as he tested the 'ropes.' Well, if this was a robbery, it was poorly planned, to put it mildly. The assailant left his wings completely free, and the binding was so poorly tied that he could slip right, with little effort.

A squeak of a floorboard caused his head to jerk up and glare at his attacker. A person carefully stepped into his view. And well, of all the things he'd been prepared for... you weren't it. And certainly not you, in nothing but your underwear, a tank top, and wielding a lamp like it was a baseball bat.

Well... this is... unexpected.

He could only stare at you in confusion that years of training couldn't even stop. Huh? You didn't look like a villain, much less a burglar. Honestly, you didn't look like a fighter at all.

If you weren't a villain, then...

He mentally groaned.

Great. You were a fan... and a crazy one at that.

Over his career, he's had a few run-ins with crazy or obsessed fans of his. He couldn't count the number of times he's had to change his phone number or move his safe house. Even with the commission on his side, his info still got out!

Maybe they should start hiring them instead...

Well... at least you were easy on the eyes. He thought as he gave you a once over. Your hair was a mess, and was that a bit of drool on your chin?

Yeap, just another crazy yet fairly active fan.

"Hey there." He greeted you with a warm smile, causing you to jump. He needed to play this out some. Escaping wouldn't be a problem, and he already had a few feathers at the ready in case you tried something. But he was hoping it wouldn't come to that. As irritated as he was at you, he didn't want to hurt you. You weren't a villain, just... confused. "It's not every day, I wake up to beauty like you. How about you untie me so I can introduce myself properly."

He gave you a charming smile as he watched your face go from nervous to confused and then to anger.

"L-Like, hell, I'm telling you my name after what you did!" You took a step forward and raise your weapon up slightly higher, ready to strike. "And don't flirt with me, you creep!"

Hmm, that usually works.

"My bad. I didn't mean to offend you. If you untie me, I'm sure I can figure out a few ways to make up for it." He winked, keeping his smile friendly and inviting. He needed to figure a way out of this that didn’t involve him hurting you or land him on every news station in the country.

*****

"You're seriously fucked up in the head, you know that! I am not untying you!" You yelled as a blush slowly crept over your cheeks. You were shocked at the stones this guy had! He broke into your home and attacked you while you were asleep. And now he was flirting with you?! Like this, a date or something!

Something in his eyes flashes for a split second, and you saw one of his wings twitch.

Why did he keep looking at you like that?

"D-Don't try anything! The police are on their way!" At least you hoped they were. You hadn't been able to call them, cause stupid you forgot to put your phone to charge when you got home. It was completely dead. You could only hope one of your neighbors who stayed had neared the commotion and called for help.

"Police?" His golden bird-like eyes went wide for a moment. Did he really think you wouldn't call for help?

"Yes, the police! You broke into my home and attacked me in my sleep! What did you just expect me to call for a parade?!"

"Wait…" You could see the gears turning in his head as he glanced around your room. His eyes suddenly went wide.

"So… you're not one of my fans?"

"Fan? WHY THE HELL WOULD I BE A FAN OF A PSYCHO LIKE YOU!?!"

"Wait! This is just a misunderstanding!"

"How the hell is breaking into someone's home, attacking them in their bed in the middle of the night a 'misunderstanding'?"

"Look, all I remember is flying home. Walking through my…" The man trailed off. "Wait, what address is this?"

"Like I'd give my address to a villain?" You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

"I'm already here like it's really going to make a difference?" He growled before giving you a glare. You watched as his wings poofed up a bit. "Also, watch the insults. I'm a hero, not a villain."

"Likely story." You deadpanned. "You could at least come up with something more believable than that..."

"W-wait... You don't recognize me?" You gave him a once over. "Take a really good look at me." His wings stretched out a bit. "Anything thing ring a bell?" You just stared at him blankly. Granted, he was good looking, and if he wasn't a criminal, he could easily be on the cover of a magazine. "Seriously?"

"Pretty convenient of you to pick the home of someone who doesn't follow heroes, huh?"

"More like, inconvenient. If you did, you'd recognize me in a heartbeat." He sighed. "Look, just check my pants pocket. You'll find my credentials."

"How do I know this isn't just a trick? Or maybe they're fake."

"It's not a trick! Look, if you're that worried, just get your phone and google me. I'm the wing hero: Hawks." Huh? Why would he suggest that? He wouldn't know about your phone... so why would he tell you to get it? You could call for help. That should be the last thing he wants. You pondered for a moment.

****

"Fine, I'll check. But this better not be a trick," You paused. "cause if it is, I got another lamp with your name on it!" He watched as you gradually made your way towards his discarded clothes. While you searched for his wallet, he glanced over to the shattered remains of what he assumed was your first weapon.

Well, that explains the small blood trail on the side of his head and his headache.

Finally, after what felt like forever, you found it. You made your way back to him as he watches you juggle, keeping your on him, holding the lamp, and reading his ID.

"Hero license, Hero: Hawks, Name: Takami Keigo." You mumbled as your eyes darted between the ID's picture and himself. He could still see the doubt in your eyes. Damn, if this didn't work, he was going to have to free himself. Hopefully, he'd be quick enough to do that and subdue you without hurting you much. "Wait… Takami… Keigo.." Your eyes went wide, and he had to admit, his name sounded a little too good coming from you. "Wait! That's the name on the mail that keeps getting put in my box!" A look of realization and shock washes over you. "You're my neighbor!"

"Ah, so you're the one that's been slipping my mail under my door!" He couldn't help but smile and sigh internally. Finally, somethings going right! " Nice to finally meet you! Sorry I haven't had a chance to introduce myself before now. Work keeps me pretty busy."

"You're a hero… and you're my neighbor…." Your eyes were wide as you stared at him.

"Looks that way."

"THEN WHY THE FUCK DID YOU BREAK INTO MY HOME!"

"It was an accident! I swear! I was exhausted and just flew to the wrong balcony. Honest. The glass door was open, and I didn't even realize I was in the wrong place." He tried to reason with you.

"Didn't you think it was a little strange that the furniture wasn't yours, or how about the fact that I was IN the bed?"

"Like I said, I was exhausted." He just shrugged before mumbling. "And well, let's just say you wouldn't be the first time a fan found where I lived and tried to surprise me in bed."

".... so you thought I was some psycho who broke into your home just to try and sleep with you…" You glared at him, clearly annoyed. "You realize I'm still holding a weapon right now, and remember..." You gestured with the lamp. "I gotta pretty mean swing..."

"Easy there, Chickadee. I'm joking. And I wouldn't call you psycho just... A little touched in the head." That earned him a glare that made him chuckle. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding."

"You like pissing people off, don't you?"

"I've been known to ruffle some feathers from time to time."

"Look," You sighed as you tried to process everything that just happened. "This is just... too much..." You sat the lamp down finally. "Damn, I'm sorry."

"No worries. This one on me." He made a move to stand.

"Oh, here, let me..."

"All good, I got it." He stood up, letting the restraints fall off of him like they weren't even there, let alone tied.

"H-how did y-you?"

"Oh, yeah. Word of advice, ya might wanna work on knots." He chuckled as he stretched.

"Y-You could have gotten free at any time… why didn't you?"

"Like I said, I'm a hero." He walked forward while you moved to the side, eyes still wide-eyed." If I'd freed myself before you realized who I was, you would have freaked out. Honestly, the last thing I want is for you to get hurt or you to go screaming down the hallway in your underwear." He informed you as your face turned beet red, and you then tried to pull your shirt down. He laughed at the poor attempt to hide. "Well then, gotta say this would make a hell of a story, but I'd really appreciate it if we kept this between us." He could help but tease you more. You looked so damn cute when you're flustered. "Not to brag or anything, but I'm a pretty well-known hero and have a reputation to uphold." He sent out a few of his feathers to help gather his gear while he talked to you. You were so entranced watching his feathers work that he had to repeat himself again.

"I-I-I… Yes!" Your eye finally snapped back into focus on him. "Of course! Just between us!"

"Great! Glad that's settled." He took a step towards you and held out his hand. You finally got the message and handed his wallet back to him. "My superiors and PR would have my tail feathers if this got out." He ginned. "Well, would you look at the time!" He grinned while making his way to the sliding glass door and out to the balcony, his floating clothes trailing behind him. "Best be on my way. I have an early shift in the morning. Sweet dream angle." And with that, he stepped out to the balcony and fluttered over to his.

Damn, what a night!

*****

Extra:

The next morning.

You woke up late, groggy and sweaty. The AC was still out, and your apartment was slowly heating up.

With a heavy sigh, you forced yourself out of bed, put on shorts, and headed to the kitchen.

Last night was a hell of a night.

Your neighbor is a hero...

What are the odds of that?

You reached up into your cabinet and pulled down your favorite cereal.

Whatever, he can't be that good if he made that big of a mistake, right?

You quickly made your breakfast and headed for your balcony. There was a slight breeze blowing that morning, making it almost bearable outside.

Almost...

Huh? What's that?

There was a large brown bag sitting on your patio table.

That wasn't there before...

You sat your bowl down and picked it up. Whatever it was, it was a decent size and heavy. You opened the bag, and the first thing you found was a note.

'Sorry again about last night. Here's a little gift for you to make up for it.

Bet you could do some real damage with this one. Batter up, chickadee!

Your neighbor,

-Hawks'

You reached further into the bag and pulled out... a lamp?

It was made out of wood and metal, making the damn thing large and pretty heavy. It was well made and couldn't have been cheap! You pulled it further out of the back, and when you saw the shape of the body, you couldn't help it: you busted out laughing. The damn thing was in the shape of a roaster!

Your neighbor... is a hero... and a strange one at that...

********

Thanks for the read! If you want see the other stuff I’ve done, click the link bellow!

MasterList

130 notes · View notes

dreamwritesimagines · 4 years

Text

Twisted 15 - Playing with Fire [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking.

Word Count: 3800

Summary: Good intentions can lead to bad consequences.

Your first night with Spencer was different than any other time with anyone else you had ever been with, and you were one hundred percent sure that he would have some scientific explanation for it, but for you, the reason behind that was very simple.

Even if you couldn’t even admit it to yourself yet.

But for the first time in a very long time, your nightmares left you alone. Your sleep wasn’t disturbed, not by anything unpleasant anyway and you were almost sure that the small movement beside you in bed followed by a soft kiss into your neck was a part of your dreams.

The fuzzy feeling spread through you as the haze of the sleep slowly withdrew from your body and you snuggled closer into the covers, not ready to leave the warmth yet but as soon as you turned and felt the empty spot next to you, you opened your eyes, frowning. You sat up in bed, rubbing at your eyes and grabbed the folded paper lying on the pillow beside yours.

Beatrice;

She is the sum of nature’s universe,

To her perfection all of beauty tends.

Dante.

You smiled and your eyes skimmed the next lines under the quote.

New case in Ohio, they called in the whole team.

You heaved a sigh, falling back to bed again, pulling the silk sheets over your head and letting out a groan. The sunshine that seemed to fill your veins had disappeared already, leaving its place to coldness and you kicked off the sheets to walk to the bathroom.

After taking a long hot shower, you got dressed and blow dried your hair, humming a song to yourself, the memory of last night flashing in your mind, sending a spark through your whole system. You turned off the blow drier, stealing a look at your phone to see whether Spencer had texted you yet but there was nothing, so you grabbed it and left the bathroom.

As soon as you stepped into the kitchen, a shriek left your lips, making your mother turn around.

“Y/N!”

“Jesus Christ mom!” you pressed a hand over your chest, “How many times do I have to tell you not to break into my apartment?”

“It’s not breaking in if I have a key.”

“That key is for emergencies,” you let out a breath, “There’s a copycat killer sending me flowers, remember? Now is not the time for surprises.”

She tilted her head, “Speaking of, I heard you let the security I fixed you go.”

“I’m not going to walk around with bodyguards,” you said as you approached the coffee maker, “There’s security at my office already, I can’t have it in my building too.”

“I’m worried about you.”

“As long as you don’t give me a heart attack, I think we will be fine,” you checked your wristwatch, “Damn it, I need to leave in five.”

“Well, I won’t take much of your time,” she said and put a file on the kitchen island, making you look up from the cup you were pouring your coffee into.

“What’s that?”

“I took the liberty of contacting Philip.”

“Your P.I?” you asked, “Why?”

“To look into your boyfriend of course.”

You blinked a couple of times and put the coffee cup down, “Mom, no.”

“Relax, I didn’t read it.”

“No,” you insisted, “No way. Throw that away.”

“Y/N, don’t you want to know if there’s anything in his past that might be—”

“I’m not going to dig into his past!” you interrupted her, your heartbeat getting faster, “Anything he wants to tell me, he can tell me himself, I’m not going to learn it from a freaking P.I file.”

She heaved a sigh, “You don’t know what he might be hiding from you.”

“He’s not hiding anything from me,” you said, “Also, I know his father isn’t a serial killer, which is more than I can say for myself. I’m the last person to judge someone for their past.”

“What your father has done has nothing to do with you,” she said, “I didn’t tell Philip to look into his parents sweetheart, just him.”

“Throw that away.”

She rolled her eyes, “Y/N.”

“I’m not going to read it,” you told her as you put your coffee down and grabbed your purse from the counter, “I gotta go, but lock the door behind you when you leave okay?”

“Y/N, we need to talk about this!”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you turned around to look at her, “Mom, for the first time in my life I actually feel—“ you paused for a moment, “He makes me happier than you could imagine, okay? I’m not going to betray his trust, not like that. Ever.”

She shot you a look and you walked out of the apartment, your phone already buzzing in your hand.

“Erica?” you greeted your assistant as you answered the phone, “I’m on my way.”

***

You definitely had not imagined the next two days going like this.

For starters, you had thought you would get to wake up next to Spencer. That didn’t happen.

You had thought you would have a peaceful morning. That didn’t happen.

You had assumed Spencer would call you, at least text you sometime in these two days, but that didn’t happen either. Between meetings and clients and running from venues to pastry shops to flower shops, you kept checking your phone but there was nothing. Even after you had texted him good morning, it was radio silent.

You tried to convince yourself that it was because of his job. You were busy during the day yes, but he was dealing with actual serial killers and their victims, so it was more than normal that he couldn’t find….five seconds to text you.

Maybe.

On second day though, you were getting way too restless.

“Nothing?” Mina asked as she came back from the bathroom and you put your phone down, taking a sip of your rosé and averting your glances to the other people in the restaurant.

“No,” you murmured, “It’s—it’s fine.”

“Is it though?”

You clicked your tongue and pushed at your salad with your fork, “No,” you admitted, “It’s not fine.”

“Thought so.”

“It’s just that…” you heaved a sigh, “Maybe— I don’t know, maybe I misunderstood what this was?”

“Or maybe he’s an idiot.”

“He has an IQ of 187, Mina.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s not an idiot,” she pointed at you with her fork, “Listen, you know what kind of a job he has. Every second counts when you’re hunting down killers.”

“A text takes like five seconds to type,” you reminded her and bit inside your cheek, “What if—“

“No,” Mina said, “Whatever you’re thinking right now, that’s not what’s happening here. You just decided to date a guy who has the worst work hours, that’s it,” she tilted her head, “Speaking of, did mom seriously get Philip to look into him?”

“Oh my God yes!” you looked up at her, finally able to focus on something else, “Can you believe that?”

“Yes I can. I one hundred percent saw that coming,” she sipped her drink, “I didn’t think she would tell you though, not after what happened the last time.”

You frowned, but then a look of realization dawned on your face, “Right,” you said, “She did the same when you and Kenzie started dating. I almost forgot.”

“Kenzie broke up with me when she found out,” she reminded you, shaking her head, “It was the worst week of my life. I had to beg her to at least listen to me.”

“I mean I get that she was angry, but breaking up?”

“I don’t know how I would react if she did the same thing to me,” Mina stated, “I can’t blame her, not really. It was way out of line.”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I didn’t read it.”

“You shouldn’t read it,” Mina said, “Did you get rid of it?”

“I told mom to throw it away as I was leaving,” you said, “I didn’t see it on the counter when I came back, so I guess she did throw it away. Or took it with her, I don’t know.”

“You do realize none of this would be happening if you didn’t walk around announcing you’re in love—”

Your eyes widened, “Mina!”

“What? Just because you didn’t tell him doesn’t mean it’s not crystal clear to the rest of us.”

“I didn’t announce anything!”

“You might as well have,” she said, “Now that you got laid, there’s no excuse to that behavior.”

“At least I’m not calling him my love,” you pointed out and Mina scrunched up her nose.

“Don’t remind me,” she murmured, “I don’t know what mom is thinking. Also, apparently, there’s this auction for charity and all of us are supposed to be there. You, me, Kenzie…. Do you want to guess who the sponsor is?”

“Mom’s boyfriend.”

“Mom’s boyfriend,” she repeated, clinking her glass with yours, “Trust me, that’s gonna be a disaster.”

For the rest of the day, Spencer made no contact with you, and it was becoming more nerve-wrecking than you had thought it would be. Every hour your mind came up with some theory that was even more ridiculous than the other.

You had started with the theory of that night before not being as good for him as it was for you and somehow reached the theory of him lying dead in a ditch because a serial killer had gotten to him. Your fingers were practically itching for you to call him but you managed to control yourself, pouring yourself a glass of whiskey and trying to focus on the emails your assistant had sent you.

But the buzz of your phone was more than enough to make you sit up straight and snatch your phone off the coffee table. You touched the screen, your eyes skimming the text.

Sorry I couldn’t call, the case was chaotic and we just landed. Can I drop by? I missed you.

You stared at the screen, trying to repress the fury bubbling inside of you but managed to reply with just one word.

Sure.

Two days of complete silence, and then I missed you.

Lovely.

You let out a breath, forcing yourself to focus on the screen of your laptop instead of the anger filling you, because if you didn’t calm yourself down you were pretty damn sure that tonight would end in a huge argument.

And you didn’t want that. You didn’t want to let yourself play that messed up pushing and pulling game with him, because you knew where that would end.

It took more than an hour and a couple of glasses of whiskey, but when you heard the knock on your door, you pushed the cashmere throw off of you and walked to the door to open it.

Damn it, even the sight of him at your door was more than enough to make you want to rush into his arms, but you managed to hold your ground, leaning sideways to the door to take a look at him. He looked like he hadn’t slept in these two days and he was clearly exhausted, if not physically then mentally. The thought tugged at your heartstrings and you pressed your lips together.

“Welcome back,” you managed to say, not moving an inch to kiss or hug him and of course that didn’t escape his notice. Even when he was tired, he knew exactly how to read you.

You opened the door wider and walked back into the living room, listening to him close the door behind him and follow you.

“Tough case?”

“Yeah- is everything okay?”

His question made you turn around to look at him and you crossed your arms, frowning slightly.

“Yeah.”

“Y/N.”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Hm?”

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” you said, “I guess I’m surprised to hear from you, that’s all.”

A look of realization flashed over his handsome face, “I wanted to call you,” he said quickly, “I really did, but as soon as we landed in Ohio they took us into the crime scene, and the whole night I tried to crack the case but it turned out the killer had already committed—“

“A text would’ve been fine,” you pointed out, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, “You didn’t get five seconds to yourself, professor?”

“Will you believe me if I say no?”

“No,” you stated, “Not really. It’s fine, I just misunderstood what this was,” you motioned at him,”It’s—like I said, it’s fine. I just didn’t know it before so I got confused, that’s all.”

“What did you misunderstand?” he asked you and you shrugged your shoulders again like a petulant child, keeping silent. He watched you, his brows furrowed as he tried to understand what was happening before he pulled back slightly.

“You thought—“ he started, his voice soft, “You thought I’d leave you like that?”

Don’t say it. Don’t say it.

Don’t fucking say—

“What do I care if you left?”

Anthony, -your ex you had broken up with months and months ago- had once told you that during the arguments, especially if you were mad at the person in front of you, it was like you were possessed by the devil himself.

“I have no idea what the fuck you want,” he had yelled at you, “I don’t think you know either.”

Now to think of it, you were beginning to agree with him about you being possessed because you knew it was illogical, you knew you were being petty and nonsense, and yet, you couldn’t stop yourself.

“You don’t care.” Spencer repeated, his aura changing completely, his tone calm and collected.

You supposed that was normal. You had already trespassed into his area of expertise voluntarily, and yes you could push and pull someone until they broke, but Spencer could play these mind games and come out on top no matter how much you tried to beat him at that.

The thought of him taking a peek into all these defenses you had spent years building was so intimidating that for a moment you felt almost naked and blinked a couple of times, your nose in the air.

Walking away when you were at your own goddamn apartment was a challenge but your pettiness knew no limits.

“You know what, I’m gonna take a shower, it’s really late.”

“Y/N.”

“Yeah listen, like I said, it’s fine. You missed me, you saw me and we’re clearly both very happy right now, so do you mind closing the door behind you when you leave?” you said, your voice cold as ice and took a step to walk past him but he grabbed your arm before you could do that, his grip firm but not painful.

“You know I can see through that, right?” his voice was low as your heart started pacing in your chest, the fire shooting through you despite anger, “Try to run away from it, lie to me all you want, but I’m not one of those clueless idiots around you. We both know you do care.”

It was as if there was an invisible electric wire crackling between your bodies, getting stronger and stronger with each second passing. Your eyes narrowed as you stood still for a moment, like a snake ready to strike, your mind going overdrive with where to attack him first.

“Then it’s a good thing one of us does,” you managed to say, your voice like a hiss, “Because we both know that you don’t.”

Something behind his eyes shifted but before you could even question what it was he had already pulled you into a kiss, his fingers buried into your hair while he walked you back until your back collided with the wall. You pushed his jacket off of him, not caring where it ended up and your fingers nimbly tried to get rid of his tie, a whine escaping from your lips when you had to break the kiss so that he could pull the oversized shirt you were wearing over your head. He pulled back for a moment, his fiery gaze focused on you and that was when you understood why he had stopped.

He was making sure he would remember this.

You pushed yourself off the wall, flinging yourself into his arms once again. It was nearly impossible to fight the urge of being closer to him, so you gave in as his hand tugged at the roots of your hair while both of you blindly tried to find the nearest flat surface, knocking over a vase and the floor lamp in process before he finally pushed you back to the couch. A squeal escaped from your lips when you landed on the soft cushions, but it soon turned into a moan when his body covered yours, his teeth grazing your neck.

“Well,” he murmured, his low voice in your ear giving you shivers, “Let’s test that theory then.”

***

Of course he woke up before you. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he hadn’t slept at all but he looked better rested than when he first had got there, so you figured he at least got a couple of hours. He had put his pants and white button up on, but his tie and jacket were still scattered along the room. He was sitting by the edge of couch, his files all over the coffee table as his eyes darted between them and he dragged his fingertips over the papers, but when he felt you watching him, he turned his head to look at you, a smile pulling at his lips, mirroring yours.

“Good morning,” he said and your smile widened before he leaned in to kiss you.

“Hi,” you murmured as you reached out to touch his curls, “Why does your hair look prettier than mine in the morning?”

He chuckled against your lips, “You’re seeing things,” he said, stealing another kiss from you before pulling back, his thumb caressing over your cheekbone.

“What time is it?” you rasped out and he checked his wristwatch.

“7,” he said and you scrunched up your nose,

“How much time do you have?”

“Less than half an hour,” he sighed, “How much time do you have?”

“Perks of being the boss,” you wiggled your brows, “I don’t have any meetings before ten o’clock today.”

“Lucky.”

“Incredibly lucky,” you winked at him as you pecked him on the lips and grabbed your bra and underwear off the floor, painfully aware of his gaze on you sending fire underneath your cheeks. You got into your shirt, then narrowed your eyes at him.

“It’s rude to stare professor, where are your manners?” you asked, making him chuckle before he snapped his fingers as if he just thought of something.

“I almost forgot,” he said, pulling away to grab his satchel and he dug into it to pull out a small magnet, making you gasp and snatch it out of his hand.

“You remembered!” you said with a smile, “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll put it on the fridge. Coffee?”

He raised his brows and nodded his head, “Yes please.”

“I’m beginning to think I’m becoming a profiler,” you grinned at him and fixed your hair before jumping over the back of the couch. You had every intention to walk to the kitchen but you couldn’t help yourself as you leaned over to rest your chin on his shoulder and kissed his cheek, making him smile. He entwined his fingers with you, pressing his lips on the back of your hand, the warmth spreading from that spot through your whole body.

“Thank you,” you said softly and he turned his head to look at you,

“Of course, it’s nothing.”

“No, it’s… it’s not nothing.” You shook your head, “It makes me happy.”

The light in his eyes was so warm that you thought you would melt.

“Good, because I want—“ he swallowed thickly, “I need you to be happy.”

You nibbled on your lip before you stole a kiss from him,

“I am,” you murmured, not lying for the first time in your life. You rushed to the kitchen, putting the magnet on the fridge carefully before you turned the coffee machine on.

“So I was thinking,” you said, “About this 7 hour long conference.”

“You lost that bet, you have to attend it with me.”

“Ah no, I’m not trying to skip it,” you leaned on the kitchen island, “I just have a question.”

He looked over his shoulder, “Yeah?”

“There are bathrooms there right?”

“Of course.”

“And everyone will be pretty busy during and after the sessions?”

“Yeah because the Q and A sometimes goes longer than planned.”

“Great, so we can hook up in the bathroom?”

He blinked a couple of times, as if he couldn’t tell if you were joking.

“Come again?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “What? No one ever does anything fun in these conferences?”

“I don’t—“ he stammered, “They’re highly academic, so I don’t think… I don’t think anyone—um—”

“You okay there, professor?” you grinned, aware of your effect of your words “You’re telling me you keep attending these conferences and then you end up not hooking up with anyone?”

He shook his head, still confused and you winked at him.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” you said, “You’re going to be late if you just keep sitting there and gawking at me by the way, IQ of 187.”

He tried to pull himself together, gathering his files as you turned around to get the cups out of the cabinet.

“For the record, I think people are having fun in a non-academic way in these things, you just don’t know it yet,” you said, pouring the coffee into the cups “In one of the conferences we had to attend during college, me and my friend got these flasks of whiskey, then we—“ you stopped talking when you turned around and saw him standing there, completely frozen as he skimmed the papers in one of his files.

“What?” you asked when his eyes snapped up to yours, but there was something behind his gaze, completely void of the affection you were used to seeing. He swallowed thickly, his jaw clenched and he threw the file onto the kitchen island, making you frown.

Then a shudder ran down your spine.

Your mom’s file on Spencer. The one she had told her P.I to prepare when she paid him to look into Spencer’s past. You had just assumed your mother threw it away when you couldn’t see it after you came home that day, but apparently you should’ve looked harder.

“Y/N,” his voice sounded way too distant, way too cold, “What the hell is this?”

Chapter 16

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer #reid #spencer x reader #reid x reader #cm #spencer imagine #spencer imagines #reid imagine #reid imagines #criminal minds imagine #twisted

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bearlytolerant · 3 years

Text

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Solavellan (Modern AU)

Ch Rating: T

Ch WC: 2169

AO3

Chapter 7

Another day at the office. Editing, emails and the ever elusive caller that enables equal opportunities for playing phone tag. A game Solas never enjoys participating in. The morning slides by and Varric is at his desk, twirling his keys around his finger.

“Lunch?”

Solas glances up and sighs. “I’m trying to get a hold of Seeker Pentaghast. Sera said she had more info on an agent that might have a lead on Crystal Red.”

“That sounds like a lot of maybes and probablys and a whole lot of I don’t give a fuck. You’re allowed to take a break and get some lunch.”

“What if they call while I’m away?”

“They can leave a message. Now let’s get out of here before we don’t have any time at all for food.”

Solas shoves back his chair and follows Varric. “I did pack a lunch today,” he mentions.

“Save it for tomorrow then. I’m craving some street tacos and there’s a truck just up the road. I’ll buy so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“I am less concerned about finances and more concerned about getting food from a truck.”

“Ah, live a little Chuckles,” Varric says as he gives Solas a whack on the back.

“If living a little, as you say, means spending two days on the toilet. Perhaps I do not wish to live a little.”

“Well come with me and grab something else. I’m sure there’s something you’d find worthy of your tastes nearby.”

A half hour later and Solas is holding a taco that’s worth the regret he’ll experience from his future self. Some chipotle mayo dribbles down his chin and he swipes it away while pulling out his phone.

He checks his messages. One from Sarya and one from Veda. He taps on the one from Veda first.

Connor went home sick. Pick me up after school today?

He checks the time and swears. How did he not realize he took such a late lunch? She needs to be picked up right now. He dials her number as he stuffs his arms into his coat.

“Veda needs to be picked up,” he tells Varric as he shoves the remainder of his taco in his mouth.

“Got you covered,” Varric replies.

He mumbles a garbled, “thanks” then takes off down the street. Solas is just a block away from his car in the parking garage when she picks up.

“Hey papae!”

“Hello. I apologize. I just now saw your text. I will be late.”

“No worries. I can always watch the band practice until you get here.”

“I will be there soon.”

“Okie doke.”

He says he loves her and hangs up. Sprints the rest of the way down the street, half choking and wishing he’d at least drank some water but makes his way to his little car without incident. He hops inside. Starts it and zooms out of the garage. He’s speeding which has him checking his rear view mirror constantly. But of course, the city has a million stop lights and he hits every red one. He gets to her school later than he ever intended.

He parks, shoving his glasses all the way up his nose, and searches for Veda at the stadium. He spots her in the bleachers, chin resting in her hands and her copper braids coming undone in the breeze. He takes the stairs to meet her two at a time.

“I am so sorry to make you wait,” he says as he wraps her in his arms.

“Seriously, papae. It’s not a problem at all.”

“But what if it had rained? Or stormed like yesterday?”

“I would’ve just stayed inside. Besides, that didn’t happen.”

He sighs, berating himself a little internally. Then he walks with her back to the car. Slides in and clicks his seatbelt in place.

“What’s this?” Veda asks.

Solas glances over at her. She has Sarya’s camera in her hands. He hadn’t even noticed it there. He calmly says, “a camera.”

“Pssh, obviously. But I don’t remember you having a camera.”

“It’s a friend’s,” he says. “We went out for lunch and they must’ve left it.”

“Oh,” she says. “How was work today?” She’s still fiddling with the camera.

“It was work,” he says. Thankfully she easily dropped the subject. “Not much was accomplished.”

She gasps. “Your friend is so pretty. You’ve never mentioned her before. New coworker?”

“No. Just a new friend I met.”

“She looks familiar—and she’s a wonderful photographer. Maybe we should have her take some pictures of us. We haven’t updated our family photos since I was ten.”

“That’s a wonderful idea Veda. However, my friend is only visiting for a short while. I’m not sure there would be enough time to squeeze some family photos in.”

“Bummer. You look so happy around her.”

“I don’t always look happy?”

“You look a different kind of happy with her. It’s nice.”

He takes her words and holds them close to her chest. “Anything interesting happen at school today?”

“Yeah,” she says, then she unloads a multitude of stories. How one of her friends got their tooth knocked out by a basketball in gym. How she accidentally used Elvhen in her Tevene class and didn’t notice until the whole class was just staring at her.

“Did you feel embarrassed?” he asks as they pull into the garage.

“A little. But I mostly found it funny. The way the other kids looked so confused.”

“Does anyone treat you differently when you speak Elvhen?”

She shrugs. “There’s a couple of kids who say stupid things but I don’t hang around them.”

“Veda, I’m happy to speak with the administration if your having trouble with other students—“

“While I appreciate that, I can handle a couple of kids who are jerks.”

“Very well but if you ever—“

“I know.” She slings her backpack in her back then kisses his cheek. “Can I go to Varric’s house? I want to see the cats and hang out with Cole for a bit.”

“Yes, so long as you check with—“

“Already did.” She steps out of the car. “Going to drop my stuff off inside then I’ll see you later.”

“Text me when you want to leave. I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay. See you later, papae.”

Solas sighs. He’s glad she still talks to him and he still gets to see her but there’s also this tiny ache in his chest that misses her always being around the house. But he reminds himself that this is a good thing. It’s just new and he pulls out his phone to read his messages from Sarya.

Hey I’m going to try and stop by your work around 3:15 today.

I stopped by your work but you weren’t there. Saw Varric though! He introduced me to everyone and it was fun! I really like Sera. She’s hilarious! And Merrill was so sweet! Anyway, hopefully I’ll see you sometime soon. 😉

—

“I fold,” Sarya says, she takes a drag from her cigarillo. Then throws her cards face up on the table.

“Already?” Han asks. “What a shame.”

“Your mind must be elsewhere, Sarya. I’ve never known you to throw a game,” Vilanti says as she shows her cards.

Han takes the game and lets out a whoop as he gathers them all to shuffle.

“I still can’t believe Dallen just up and left us. Did he say anything to either of you? About his plans.”

Both of them shake their heads.

“It’s really odd.”

“I don’t know why you care. Easier to keep yourself from using him. Easier for him to be happy this way,” Han says.

“Ouch,” Vilanti grimaces, then gestures for all the cards to be handed over. She shuffles.

“I do agree with that actually. It’s just that most who move on from our happy little family tend to give us more of a notice. We didn’t get to give him a proper goodbye.”

“I don’t mean to sound callous here Sarya, but you were the only one who cared about the guy. Makes sense why he moved on.” Vilanti deals.

Sarya picks up her hand and stares straight through the cards. “That’s not true.”

“Basically,” Han argues. He draws a card.

“Sometimes you both are mean.”

“Not mean. Just honest,” Han says.

Vilanti draws. “On another note, I heard Makon made a new friend today.”

“What?” Sarya nearly drops her cards. “Our Makon? Makon—stoic, quiet, unsociable Makon?”

“Yep. Met her at the gas station. She was passing through on her way to Wycome and her motorcycle broke down. He fixed it up for her on the spot and they exchanged numbers I guess.”

“What the fuck?”

“Good for him,” Han says.

Sarya draws a card. “Yeah, seriously. I hope that works out.”

“Our next gig is in Wycome and he plans to see her then.”

“Was it love at first sight or something?” Sarya asks. She folds and picks her cigarillo back up. Her interest in cards declining by the second.

Vilanti shrugs and plays her cards, taking the game. “By the way he keeps talking about her, I’d say yes.”

“What’s her name,” Han asks, gathering all the cards into a pile.

“Athi. Athi Lavellan.”

“Another Lavellan huh?”

“Guess so. Maybe she’s related to you two,” Vilanti says.

“Doubt it. Or if she is, it’s very distant,” Han says.

In the distance they hear yelling and smashing bottles. They all exchange looks.

“Wonder who the hell set Deshanna off—“

“Let’s go see if we can smooth things over,” Han says with a sigh.

“You two can go. I’ll probably make things worse. I don’t think he likes me much.”

“That’s because you push his buttons. Definitely better for you to stay here,” Han tells her.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Then she waves at them as they slip out the door and finishes off her cigarillo.

—

It’s dark and quiet and Sarya gazes longingly out the window at a small patch of stars. The only patch not hidden by the clouds. She sighs and startles at the sound of knocking. Straightening herself out, she rubs the redness from her elbows and opens the door.

“Solas,” she says it like she’s expecting him but she’s truly surprised. She steps out with him, shutting the door behind her.

“You forgot your camera,” he tells her, holding it out in his hands.

She takes it from him, hanging it around her neck. “Thank you. I should really start keeping better track of my things or you’re going to start thinking I’m trying to bait you or something.”

“I would bite every time,” he says, his hands clasped behind his back. There’s a certain sparkle in his eye and she can’t read him. But she knows she wants to kiss him. So without another thought, she stretches up on her toes and takes him by surprise. He is frigid and she panics, certain she has misstepped. After all, friends don’t kiss like that.

“I’m sorry,” she says, a little out of breath. “I don’t know what…”

Her words are caught on the edge of his lips as he captures her mouth again. His kiss is unreserved but not what she’d call passionate. Like the kiss of a long time lover. A kiss of promise. Of commitment. Her mind screams at her to let go while simultaneously wishing and longing for more. His leg is pressed into her inner thigh and despite the chill of the air, she’s certain she is on fire. Her nails are in his shoulder, the camera even hurts just a little as it presses into her chest, and she doesn’t mean to let out a moan but it’s too late for regrets as he pushes her against the side of her trailer. One hand above her and the other in her hair. With each breath she steals between kisses, she studies his face. Memorizes it and stores it for always. Freckles for days and the tiniest scar above his brow. The only sign of his age lies in the lines of crows feet near the edges of his eyes and she tells herself to ask if he has a skincare routine. He certainly seems the type.

She studies his closed eyelids, there’s two freckles on the right and a singular small one on the left and she notices that there’s even some red in his brows and wonders if they’d have red headed babies.

She gasps then. Pulls away. Why in the hell is she thinking of babies?

“Perhaps I should…”

“Kiss me again,” she says to him. She won’t let one ridiculous thought ruin the moment. She knows that she’s falling for him. Too fast, too soon but she’s holding on for another day.

When they break apart she doesn’t want him to go. But it’s too much to ask him to stay. So she waves goodbye then clicks her camera, saving the image of him walking away.

#dragon age #solavellan #modern au #solas x Sarya Lavellan #circus au #free falling #bear writes

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