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nocasdatsgay · 18 days

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Spring Time Affairs

Day three of @polyacotarweek : Secrets

Summary: Flora likes to rile her husband up, especially if it means she gets to play with Elain in the process.

MasterPost | Poly Week Master Post| AO3 Link

Pairings: Tamlin/OC/Elain/Lucien | Rating: E🌶️| Word Count: 1890

Warnings: smut

A/N: relationships should never have to be a secret. Pretending it is for the thrill however, that is acceptable.

Tagging: @saltedcoffeescotch @ysmtttty

Flora should have been ashamed of herself. Should bring the operative word. But the way Elain’s thigh was shaking where it was draped over her shoulder, she could only focus on bringing her over the edge. How she ended up kneeling under Elain’s pale yellow skirts in the small library on the east end was irrelevant.

Elain was whimpering above her as she sucked and swirled her tongue on her clit just like she liked. Stubborn, she thought. Elain was deliberately fighting her orgasm. Flora knew it. She stopped thrusting her fingers and instead wiggled the pads of them, pressing on that spot that had Elain crying out above her. She grinned as Elain came, damn near soaking her face and hand. Flora licked it all up, pleased when Elain started to push her away because it was too much.

“I swear you stay under her skirts more than I do.”

Lucien’s voice startled her as she pulled away and moved to stand. He was grinning wickedly at his mate, who Flora was pleased to see had a flush on her face and was still catching her breath.

“I can’t help it,” Flora made a show of licking one of her fingers. “She tastes so good.”

“You’re lucky Tamlin is looking for you,” Lucien said. He did look ready to bend her over the table behind her. His gaze turned to his mate. “You are a wicked little female.”

“Whatever do you mean, Lord Lucien?” Elain straightened her skirt with her palms.

Flora’s eyebrows shot up. Elain always flirted by riling Lucien up. And the best way to do so was to address him formally. Flora learned that herself the hard way.

“Flora, lock the door,” Lucien did not look at her as he spoke. “I think I need to have a conversation with my mate about inappropriate uses of the mating bond.”

Flora did not suppress her grin. “Of course. Have fun.”

She left, shutting the door and waving her hand to lock it. She tried to not giggle at the squeal she heard Elain let out as she went down the hallway. She went to her husband’s office first. He was normally there most of the day nearing the end of the year months. Sure enough, Tamlin was at his desk, looking over papers. He looked up as she entered and shut the door.

“Lucien said you were looking for me?”

She walked past the chairs and his desk to sit on the table against the window behind him. It was a test; he knew that. She could tell he knew by the way he rose from his chair and turned to her with a predatory look. She smoothed out the skirts of her sky blue dress. He came up to her, nudging her legs open with his own, his nostrils flaring as he leaned into her.

“You smell like Elain. Gods, were you in the library again?”

“Maybe.” She grinned and watched him plant both of his hands on the table, caging her in.

“Wild flower.” Tamlin growled in her ear. “Are you trying to get caught?”

“Why would I do that?”

Tamlin took one hand and pushed up her skirts further so he could stand between her open legs, forcing them to spread further. He pulled back and stood straighter.

“Because you’re a minx,” he tilted up her chin. Green eyes blown black. “I don’t even remember why I called you in here.”

Flora hummed as he tucked a loose golden brown curl behind her ear.

“What a Lady of Spring you are, smelling like another male’s mate. What would the servants think?”

So that was the game they were playing. The ‘pretend the whole court doesn’t know’ game. Flora liked this game, if only because Tamlin could pretend to be possessive.

“Fuck the servants,” she gasped.

He gripped her hips and pulled her to the edge of the table and pressed his body against her. The bulge of his pants rubbing against her. Her underwear was already soaked from playing with Elain. She whined and pouted when he pulled back. A hand on her thigh inched up under her skirt until a claw hooked her underwear. She lifted her rear up so he could pull them off. He scowled as the blue lacy scrap of cloth came into view.

“Who bought you these? It wasn’t me.” He lifted them higher to look at them better. “They’re too slutty for my tastes.” A lie.

She bit her lip. He knew who, but he wanted her to say it. “Lucien.”

His gaze narrowed on her as he tossed the underwear aside. “You want them to know what a little whore you are.”

“No,” she shook her head.

“You do.” He tsked at you. “This is the third time this month I’ve caught you smelling like them. Do you want the court to think I can’t satisfy my wife?”

She almost snorted. Instead, she feigned shock. “No!”

“But you do. They don’t know our little secret, do they? They just see you, walking around and smelling like this. Makes you look unfaithful. Do I need to remind you who you belong to?”

She tried to not grin or seem too excited as he unlaced his trousers. He reached up and grabbed her chin forcing her to look at him.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes sir.”

He let go of her chin and his trousers fell to the floor. She looked down and watched him stroke his hard length, the core of her clenching at the thought of what was about to happen. She inhaled as he stepped close to her, wanting nothing more than for him to take her.

“What did you do with Elain?”

Flora looked up, mouth agape. “I- I was under her skirts. I used my mouth.”

Tamlin reached around and grabbed the back of her head, not undoing her braids but holding her still as he pressed his lips to hers. She let his tongue in and he growled while he probed around. He could taste Elain still on her lips and tongue. Flora did not move. He pulled back. He said nothing; only stroked himself once more before pushing into her heat.

Flora fell back on both her hands, head also falling back as she let out a moan. He gave her no time to adjust, not that she minded. She was content to let him take what he wanted from her. Tamlin had other plans.

“Look at me,” a command, laced with the authority of Spring. She lifted her head up, eyes wide open. “Who do you belong to?”

”You.” She whimpered with each thrust, his length hitting that spot inside her. “You, Tamlin.”

He growled again. “And what are our rules?”

”We, fuck, we keep- Tam,” She wrapped her leg around his waist. “We keep it secret.” Another lie.

“Exactly.” He thrusted into her harder, stroking the pleasure in her higher. “What we do in our bedroom is no one’s concern but our own.”

“Yes, Tamlin.”

“If you’re going to smell like sex during the day, you’ll smell of me.”

“Yes sir,” she cried out. “Only you.”

Tamlin sank his teeth into her neck, causing her to arch against him and yell with her eyes rolling back. He then pulled back and licked at the bite. Her legs tightened around his waist again while he continued to thrust into her, one of her hands going into his blond hair.

Then the doorknob turned and for a moment her heart stopped. She moved her hand and slapped it over her mouth, crying out as she came suddenly.

“Am I interrupting?”

It was Lucien, the bastard. He had the audacity to look innocent as he slipped into the room and shut the door. She was still pulsing around Tamlin, who stopped to look at him.

“What?” He asked, breathing heavily. As if his trousers weren’t around his ankles with his cock buried in his wife.

“The emissary from Summer is here.” Tamlin growled and Lucien grinned. “I just wanted to inform you, High Lord.”

“Get the fuck out and don’t think I won’t punish you for bothering me.”

“Maybe you should punish your wife, since she came the second she thought she was caught.” His eyes flashed at her as he grinned. “I know what you sound like when you cum, Flora.”

“Get out Lucien.” She rolled her eyes. “Weren’t you just with Elain?”

Lucien clasped his hands behind his back. “Elain is a bit tied up at the moment. I can have you join her if Tam wants.”

“Get. Out.”

Command laced Tamlin’s snarling tone. Lucien didn’t drop his grin but exited as requested. Tam threw out magic, locking the door. He turned back to her with a look in his eye. In quick movements, he pulled out of her, pulled her off the table, stood her on her feet and pushed her down across the table. Her skirts were thrown up onto her back and she gasped when he smacked his hand hard against her rear.

“Naughty girl.” He kicked her feet apart and smacked her across her wet cunt. “I didn’t tell you to cum.”

“I’m sorry Tam.” She stood on her toes, hoping he’d do that again. When he did, she moaned loudly, clenching around nothing. “Are you going to punish me?”

“I should.”

She heard him shuffle and felt him push his length back into her. He pulled her upright to be flush against him so he could whisper in her ear.

“You and Lucien both have been so bratty. But I have a meeting. So I’m going to finish fucking you and when I’m done, you’re going put those slutty little panties back on and let my seed drip out your cunt for the rest of the day so everyone knows who the Lady of Spring belongs to.”

“Please.”

He chuckled in her ear, pulling his hips back to thrust up into her. A clawed hand came around her throat while his arm wrapped around her waist as he continued. It didn’t take long for him to finish, growling in her ear as he did so. When he pulled out, she squeezed her legs together and waited. She straightened out her skirts and waited while he pulled up and fixed his trousers.

“Look at my good girl,” he chuckled, coming up beside her to hand her the panties he’d pulled off.

Flora didn’t say anything as she carefully stepped into them and pulled them up. She shivered as she felt his cum slip out of her slowly after she unclenched her legs. She turned to him, batting her eyes innocently at her husband.

“May I be dismissed, High Lord?”

“By the cauldron you make it difficult.” He came up to her, grabbing her by the hair to press his lips to hers before pulling away. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she pressed a quick kiss to his lips one last time. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

She waited by the door until he threw out his magic, unlocking it. She slipped out as if nothing happened and headed straight for Lucien and Elain’s bedroom. Lucien dropped that information for a reason when he barged in and she was about to make use of it.

#poly+acotarweek2024 #poly+acotarweek2024 d3 #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #tamlin #OC acotar #tamlin x oc #Tamlin x Flora #elucien #poly week acotar #Spring Time Affairs

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mechformers · 1 year

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Ma Miles - Ch. 11

3.1k words

Bold letters are spoken in English by the Reader to Quaritch.

'ts I, the easy writer that spews words in excitement after getting compliments... It's almost embarrassing by now lol Anyway, here's another, smaller, chapter for you!

(If you want to be tagged with the updated chapters, please leave your @ myusername in the comments! )

Previous chapter | Masterpost | Chapter 12

Humiliated. That’s how he felt. Utterly humiliated. Embarrassed that he’d let his emotions develop into something so meaningless as infatuation. Being sweet on a hostile, no matter how pretty, was beneath him. It didn’t mean squat that she’d been his son’s mother all these years, didn’t mean shit that she’d raised him to be a confident and happy boy. It was wrong, and deep down, he knew that.

Except… that wasn’t right. Immediately, the thought makes his chest hurt, makes his stomach cramp uncomfortably, the cruel lie proving too much for him. Shaking his head, he pinches the broad bridge of his nose as he closes his eyes. Taking deep breaths to calm his frozen, racing heart, he eventually manages to ease the queasy feeling he’d been keeping at bay for the past hour. Stepping up to the ceiling-to-wall window, he looks out at the Pandora night skies. Distantly, behind the Kill Zone, the jungle almost twinkles with the bioluminescent glow from the trees and plants.

Sighing deeply he rests his forehead against the cold glass. This was a mess. He knew that he couldn’t blame you for pulling away, for rejecting him. He was basically your jailor, the one who had kidnapped your son and held you prisoner, allowing for the events of your torture to happen. Still, he thought that he had read the signs right. Thought he had recognized mutual attraction when you sought out his touch, but he must have been wrong. You looked so uncomfortable when you had pulled away, giving the sorry excuse that you needed to get back to Spider. Your son was a teenager, he didn’t need his mother with him 24/7, but then again, a part of him understood. This was not an ideal situation…

Still, his pride had taken a major hit, one he needed time to heal from. So he did the only thing he could, he separated himself from you. When your worried eyes had searched for his during breakfast, he had ignored you, instead continuing to push his food around. He knew that the action not only hurt you but Mansk as well. The younger man wouldn’t say anything, but Quaritch could see it in the way his ears drooped. He obviously thought that he had failed to impress his leader. Quaritch would have to do something about that.

“Won’t you fix me up a box of this, kid,” He drawls as he steps up to Mansk when everyone had finished their breakfast.

“Yes, Sir,” Mansk’s ears flip up to attention immediately, his tail swishing lazily behind him.

“You did a good job with this,” The praise takes the younger man by surprise, the notion obviously not a common occurrence by the way Mansk reacts. Quaritch makes a note to praise his unit more often. Taking the box from the younger man, he turns to leave, only to run straight into you.

“Pardon me, ma’am,” Quaritch dips his head, avoiding eye contact.

“I need the talk with you?” You ask him, your voice almost small, but still determined and to the point.

“I’m late for a meeting, it’ll have to wait,” He doesn’t wait for your reply, instead he strides down the hallways as if a thanator was on his tail.

“Lyle, you’ve got lead today,” He shouts as he’s out of there like a bat outta hell.

Willingly, he walks into the General’s office, prepared to bullshit a direct report just to fill a couple of hours of his day. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have anything to do, but this would be the less boring option. Making a face at the pile of paperwork on his desk in his room, Quaritch decided that the General definitely was the better of two evils.

“Genera Ardmore,” He greets after she beacons him inside after he knocked.

“Colonel, what can I do for you?” The woman smirks and immediately, Quaritch regrets his decision.

“Figured a direct report was owed, after the mediocre paperwork, ma’am,” Quaritch bullshits through his teeth, but a shift in the General’s face is all he needs to clamber onto.

“Go on,” Ardmore folds her hands over the desk as she leans back in her chair.

And so he covers every base, going into detail about what they’ve learned, about how they mostly understand the ins and outs of Pandora and how it works. He reports how his unit is quick to catch on and how, with each day, they manage to handle the wildlife that poses a threat to their operations. The General eats it up with seemingly undivided attention, but there was something burning behind the General’s features.

“The native has officially connected us to their deity, by way of the queue in the back of our heads. We are now able to connect to places. I reckon we’ll be able to move out on Sully soon,”

“Well, that was a thorough report, Colonel,” General Ardmore starts, her beady eyes staring into his. “Good work,”

“General,” Quaritch nods, holding eye contact.

“There’s something more I want you to do, however,” She continues, an unsettling smile crossing her thin lips. “I need you to mate with the hostile, to bind her to you. We need her to be completely under our control,”

“Pardon?” His ears slick back against his skull so fast it almost hurts.

“You would have no problem with that, would you, Colonel? By the looks of it, you might already be bedding the female,” The smirk on the General’s face reminds him of a swindler back on Earth.

“I’m not sure I get what you’re referring to, General,” He doesn’t know what else to say, the implication, one he doesn’t want to even consider.

“Oh, come now, Colonel,” Ardmore starts, “She’s exotic for sure, the adoptive mother of your predecessor’s child, and in your new, young body, I'm sure you’ve got certain… biological needs. I’ve been willing to turn a blind eye to those needs as long as it hasn’t interfered with your mission,”

“I have not and will not mate with the native, General.” For long moments the room falls silent, the two of them staring at each other.

“Then I suggest you find someone who will,” The General leaned forward, her beady eyes narrowing as she scowled at him. “Or I will find that someone for you.”

Nodding, Quaritch doesn’t say anything before he’s dismissed. Leaving the General’s office, he wanders the halls of Bridgehead city as his mind races. Just the mere thought of finding someone to mate with you sent his blood boiling, his tail whipping angrily behind him as he walked. There wasn’t a recom that was worthy of you, yet, he had to choose between them, take their and your freedom away for the sake of control. Could he even do that to you? A darker side of him clearly said yes, stating that the mission was more important than any one individual. But a stronger side of him told him that even the human Quaritch built strong bonds, bonds that would never be broken because his loyalty was unwavering. Unless you had betrayed him, he would walk through the jungles of Pandora at night for you without a second thought. He took care of his own, so why was this any different?

The thought of binding you to him, to make you unhappy made his stomach turn. He couldn’t do that any more than he could mate you off with someone who would make you equally unhappy. This would be the hardest decision of his life, one where there would be no satisfactory result. The better of two evils… Sighing deeply, he decides to let it go for now. There would be no decision made today anyway. He mostly managed to hide from you the rest of the day, only getting caught when he needed to eat or needed a word with Lyle. He somehow always managed to weasel away though, but by the time night fell over Bridgehead city once more, your patience seemed to ebb out. Your voice was sharp as you called for him, but like a coward, he slammed his door shut before you could reach it, a sorry “No time, sweetheart,” thrown back to you.

He was certain that you would take one look at him and just know. Know that he would seal your future happiness away, rob it from you like a… like the sky demon, the very monster your people thought him to be. Flopping onto his bed, Quaritch sighs deeply as he stares up at the ceiling. His datapad dings and he just knows that it’s Lyle checking in on him. Rubbing his eyes roughly, Quaritch turns around in his bed, smushing his face into the bedding. It smells of you and immediately his anxiety and stress mellow out, evaporating from his body like the morning fog. In the back of his mind, he wants to hold you close, to breathe you in while he wraps himself around you. Shaking his head at his ridiculousness he turns around on his back. He would take Spider out in the morning and when they returned, he would take you out for a way overdue heart-to-heart.

Knocking on your door the next day Quaritch waits patiently before your voice sounds from the other side before opening the door. Your eyes look tired as you stare up at him, but instead of the annoyed lecturing he’s expecting from you, you just smile gently at him.

“Good morning, ma’am,” He greets formally, devoid of all emotions.

“Good morning,” You repeat, uncertainty entering your features as he continues to stare at you.

“I’m taking Spider flying today,” Quaritch informs you, watching disappointment spread over your face.

“Are you well?” You look up at him, hope entering your beautiful eyes.

“I am well,” He replies, biting his tongue hard before he says something more, something entirely stupid.

The silence stretches for an uncomfortably long time, long enough for Spider to walk up to you, a questioning look on his face before he crosses his arms and stares up at Quaritch - taking your side even though he doesn’t know what’s going on between the two of you. Chuckling at the ridiculousness, Quaritch throws his hands up in surrender. It’s enough for Spider to uncross his arms and look up at his mother.

“Go with your sempul, my dearest,” You tell Spider, and oh - Quaritch recognizes that word.

“I know that word,” He mumbles, his mind blank, while his ears turn attentively toward you, “Sempul, it means…”

He can’t help his eyes from growing big. You were acknowledging him as Spider’s father, even though you rejected his advances, even though he had pushed you away to lick his wounded pride. Even though he knew you were disappointed with him, you found it in your heart to give him this, not for your own gain, but for his happiness. You smile gently up at him while ushering Spider towards him.

“Have a nice day,” You tell him before turning to your son - your son, his, and yours - “Be careful, okay?”

Staring at you for a moment longer, you just smile gently at him, the silence no longer uncomfortable. You’re letting him come to you when he’s ready, once more surprising him with your patience. He doesn’t want to leave, but Lyle is walking up behind him, Z-Dog in tow, and then he turns and walks away, following his son as he chats animatedly while they walk toward the hangar. Securing him to Cupcake’s back, they eventually take off, leaving you and Bridgehead city behind. As morning turns into day, he leads his unit to explore the shorelines for any sighting of either the Sully family or the insurgency, while Spider excitedly tests his Na’vi. To say he’s not doing as well as he’d like to, would be the understatement of the year. Even though he’s here with his son, his mind is still miles and miles away.

“Okay, this one; I see you,” Spider grins up at him while doing the hand gesture that follows the phrase.

“Oel naati kameie,” Quaritch pronounces, hand gesture and everything, just the way you and Spider had taught him.

“Ngati - ngati,” Spider repeats with fond laughter in his voice, a big smile plastered on his face as he looks up at him.

“That's what I just said, isn’t it?” He has to ask, feeling that he nailed the pronunciation near perfectly. “Oel ngaati kameie,”

“Not naati - ngati,” His son twists his body towards him, placing his small hand on Quaritch’s knee. It’s so small against the blue of his skin.

“Ngaa… Ngaaa-ti, alright. Like comin' out your nose or something - ati,” He thinks he got it this time, Spider’s guidance a big help when it came to the nasal stuff. Somehow, you always skipped this one rather quickly, your eyes never really meeting his. He made a note to ask Spider if it had another meaning to the Na’vi.

“Boss,” Lyle cracks through the comms, pulling him out of his thoughts, “Long-range parole picked up a radar ahead, a rogue gunship,”

“Where?” Immediately, his mind starts racing. This had to be Sully and if it wasn’t, it would be heading toward him.

“Eastern sea, four clicks north,” Their course is set before he even thinks.

“Uh-huh…” Quaritch hums, his head dipping as his Corporal reads his intentions. Leaning to the left, he holds onto Spider’s small body as Cupcake shifts direction, “Hang on,”

Flying back to Bridgehead, he lets Spider wait with his unit while he takes Lyle with him to the ops center where General Ardmore is waiting for them. The glass of the holofloor slaps beneath his bare feet as he crosses the floor, the sound loud even in the noisy room. The General isn’t pleased with not having direct coordinates, but she knew as well as everyone that even getting this much of a pointer was a gift - she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

With the green light for a fleet and aircrafts, Quritch’s hyperfocus sneaks up on him once more. There’s nothing in his mind but Jake Sully and his wife while he prepares for the new mission. Almost nothing. While he moved, he felt like your eyes were watching him from every corner, judging him. He could hear your voice in his head, begging him, pleading with him to stop. But Quaritch couldn’t stop. Hunting down Jake Sully was the only reason he was brought back in this form, he would not fail his mission twice. If not for the RDA, then for himself.

His unit was a band of misfits, a pack… a dysfunctional family. Once someone was accepted, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for them. Families stick together, through tough times, through real hardship. And alright, maybe he could have handled the Sully situation differently, maybe he should have listened to Ja when he told him to be more understanding of the situation. But he hadn’t. He put his neck on the chopping block for Jake, gave him time he initially didn’t have, and all for what? For him to turn around and spit in his face, to betray the family - to betray him.

Marching Spider to the Ikran’s, Quaritch knew that this was wrong, knew that when you realized they weren’t coming back later that day, you would move the very foundation Bridehead was built upon to find your son once more - and when you did, he would have no more favors with you. Looking back in the direction of your room, he takes a deep breath before turning back to mount Cupcake. Getting a good grip on her handle, he makes tsaheylu, feeling her nervousness through the connection.

“What about mom?” Spider asks as they take off and for a little while, Quaritch doesn’t know what to say.

“Something’s come up, kid. You’ll get to see her tomorrow,” He doesn’t know if it’s a lie or not. Depending on what happens once they hit the island groups, they might be gone for more than just a day.

Meeting Scoresby, Quaritch immediately knew what kind of guy he had to deal with. The guy was as slimy as mankind came, living only to gain, damning everything in his way. It’s easy enough to convince the guy to play along though, something Lyle found hilarious enough to repeat to the whole unit once they gathered around for supper.

“You should have heard him!” Lyle wheezes, before doing the worst overly dramatic impression of himself that he’s ever heard before, “I’ll be nice, once - then I won’t,”

It has the desired effect though when smiles and chuckles spread across his unit. Even Spider huffs a chuckle while he eats. It soothes something deep within him to see his son smile again. Ever since leaving in a haste earlier that day, he had been down, keeping quiet and more reserved than usual. Sighing to himself, Quaritch promises himself that he will bring his son back to his mother again the next day.

But with most plans Quaritch makes, the mission doesn’t go as planned. He brought Spider with them to translate in the water villages, the kid being much less trouble than his mother, therefore an easier target to play for their gain. Which was a good thing. The Olo’eyktan speaks way too quickly for him to understand what he’s saying, his accent making it harder for Quaritch to make out the words. More than once, he finds himself looking at Spider while desperately waving his hand for his son to translate.

“Now what, what’s he saying,” He urges Spider, frowning as the leader keeps talking.

“They never saw him. These are sea people, forest people don’t come here,” Spider hurries the translation along, his son so obviously distressed.

“I ain’t buying that,” Quaritch sneers, looking back at the kneeling man before him.

Quaritch is used to playing hard to get what he wants from people who don’t want to give him anything, used to methods unfit for children's eyes. Hyperfocused as he is on finding Jake Sully, he forgets just that. He forgets that his son bears witness to him ordering the death of a sea creature, forgets that his teenage son is standing right there, desperately translating while he orders the death of the Tsahìk unless they give up Sully’s location. It’s only when his Spider starts begging him directly, eyes filled with unshed tears as his voice quivers with fear, that he breaks the surface of his hyperfocused insanity once more. By then, it’s way too late to go back.

He burns down three villages that first day…

Chapter 10 | Masterpost | Chapter 12

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zaraquinn · 15 days

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i wish you love.

chapter iii | valentine

—————

summary: after an odd parallel dream, reader and robert’s affections start to show; progressing their relationship to the most desired path.

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tw: MDNI!! smut (p in v, no protection {wrap before tap}, depictions and mentions of domestic abuse, manipulation and a toxic relationship

word count: +2.7k

female!reader x robert fischer (inception)

author’s notes and additional notes: sorry for the delay but here is the next chapter of i wish you love! a little confession: this chapter was in a stalemate status for a while. I thought since the second chapter didn’t get as much feedback and traction as the first chapter i thought interest quickly disappeared. but i had many people wondering for the next chapter, and it made me happy that people were still interested! thank you for all that have been waiting and reading, it means a lot. also, if you want to be part of the tag list, comment below and i will add you to the growing list on the series masterpost. it will be updated every time there is a new chapter uploaded. it keeps everything together in one (both the location of the tagged accounts and the chapters of the story) so it’s easier to access. anyway, enjoy the new chapter :3

xoxo

- zara q.

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! masterlist !

! series masterpost + tag list here !

—————

Robert blinks a few times, finding himself standing staring out his window in his high-rise office. His suit jacket hung on his chair and his sleeves were rolled up, showing his forearms. His ears feel muffled at first but everything comes back for a moment, and the voice that has been beckoning at him now becomes clear.

“Robert? Are you okay?” Your voice echoed through his office. He turns around with a confused look. His cheeks suddenly felt wet, and touched his face, realizing he was crying. You stepped forward, your smaller hand gently reaching towards his face to wipe away the tear falling. Your face, as angelic as ever is perfectly lit from the soft sunlight coming from his windows in the office.

Your hand then rests on his cheek, his hand immediately meeting yours and intertwining your fingers with his. He brought his other hand to cup your cheek, mirroring you. He looks at you with such adoration in his eyes, a sparkle that only intensifies when he closes his eyes to relish in the moment. Robert closed the gap between the two of you, his lips finally gaining the courage to touch land on yours.

His lips were so soft. They fit so well like it was meant to be there all along. Relishing in the kiss, he pulled away suddenly, taking a breath for a moment. His eyes stayed closed as he could feel the rush of emotion fill his body and flood his eyes. Your soft fingertip wiped away another fallen tear as one of his hands held onto yours on his face—keeping in place with such softness.

“I’ve dreamt every night about doing that to you.” He mutters; his voice as gentle as a whisper. You smile. “Me too.” You close your eyes and lay your forehead on his. Both of you breathe in each other’s scent as he moves closer to you, closing the gap once more.

He pulled you close, his hands travelling to your waist and all over your body. He wanted to relish in this moment, wanting to memorize every single part of you. You took a breath and moaned at his touch, feeling his lips travel from your lips to your neck. He gently pushed you back onto his desk, his hands now making its way up your skirt. Robert felt the soft fabric of your panties and slowly pulled them down your legs to the floor, using his hand to lay on your slick heat. You were already soaking, his hand already collecting your juices. You instinctively lifted a leg to wrap around Robert, and he adjusted accordingly, giving you more room for you to spread your legs. You felt your pink slit touch his pants, and Robert, as hard as ever frantically started to unbuckle his belt.

He let go of you momentarily, and you whimpered from the loss of contact. Once he was able to get his cock free he quickly attached himself to your lips and lined himself up at your entrance. “Make love to me Robert.” You moaned, desperate to feel him inside you. All he had to do was nod before he slowly slipped right into your dripping cunt. Your total slickness making it easier for his thick cock to fit right in. “Robert!” You yelped in pleasure as you felt him inside you, filling you up to the brim, making you feel full. He held you close, making sure to steady you on his desk as he slowly pulled almost all out of you. He then snaps his hips forward, filling you back up and just hitting that sweet spot that made you moan out loud. He makes a slight grunt, being in absolute paradise between your legs. “Y/N,” he said breathlessly.

He looks into your eyes as he starts a steady pace, sweat starting to build up on his forehead. His perfect brown hair bounces as he buries himself deep into your soaking cunt. “Y/N…” he says in between breaths. “Yes, Robby?” You return his words, moaning and squeaking through each pleasuring thrust he gave you. “I—”

Suddenly, his office doors burst open. His father and another man appear surprised in the hallway. That surprise suddenly turns angry as they yell the pair’s names at the sight. Robert stops and hugs you tight, protecting the scene and your body with his. You go completely still at the moment.

“Robert?” “Y/N?”

Maurice Fischer's voice booms in shock and disgust as Y/N’s boyfriend fumes in rage at the sight. His voice, louder than Maurice’s, echoes through the room. He quickly pulls out a gun and men start swarming the room, pointing it at both Robert and Y/N.

“What the fuck is this?” You quickly push yourself off and Robert fixes himself up. Afterwards, he pushes you behind him. One arm holds you close while the other is stretched out towards his father and Y/N's boyfriend.

“Let’s calm down, okay? We can sit down and talk about this. All of us.”

His voice is shaky but remains soft. You clutch onto the back of Robert’s shirt as you step beside him, holding your other arm in surrender. “Please, let us talk.”

Maurice gives one look at you, then to his son, and then the man you hated calling your boyfriend. He sighs. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, Y/N.” You look at Robert with pleading eyes as he grabs your hand. Maurice Fischer nods ever so slightly, and in a blink of an eye, Robert’s on the ground. A bullet through his chest and blood on the ground. The bullet coming from your boyfriend’s gun as he points it at Robert’s head.

Before you can even react to stop him, one of Maurice’s men’s guns goes off behind you, and for a split second of pain, it is also gone.

—

You wake up in a cold sweat and sit up from your pillows. You check the time on your bedside and realize it's 7:30 AM. Turning around slowly, you see the sleeping figure beside you with his eyes closed; like a dormant bomb, ready to go off. Pulling the sheets off you take a breath and get ready for work. The memories of your dream rush through like a current of rushing water. Robert’s gentle but fiery touch on your skin as his hands travelled throughout your body, the way his cock felt between inside you and the next was the fear, panic and pain that ended sooner than it started. You open your eyes and look in the mirror for a moment; shaking your head of the dream before it further distracts you from getting ready.

Robert’s eyes shoot open and he sits up from his bed. Lonely and all alone. He holds his head in his hands for a moment, replying to the last bits of the dream he had before it slowly fades away. He checks the time on his bedside table; at 7:30 AM. Tiredly flopping back down on his bed, he stares up at the ceiling for a moment. His eyes close for a moment and parts of the dream relapse in his memory: the way your soft skin felt when your hands admired your body, to how tight and warm you felt wrapped around his cock and then the sheer devastation his heart felt when he caught you on his arms with a bullet hold through your head. He had no time to react when he too, felt a pain hit his temple and then the dream was over. He gets up from his bed this time, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head. Robert promised you he was going to

—

You get to work, holding the coffee and breakfast sandwich you knew Robert favoured in your hands.

You felt slightly nervous to see Robert—even though it was a dream, you were worried that the feelings you had floated to the surface of your face and he would notice. So, you kept your eyes downcast when you knocked on his office door.

“Y/N.” his voice, gently beaming from behind you appeared as you turned around. You softly gasp as he puts his hands up. “It’s just me. I’m sorry I startled you.” Robert chuckles and glances at a coffee cup in his hand before handing it to you. His other hand making its way into his pocket. “I brought you this.” Your brows furrowed in confusion as you giggled at the sight. “Robert, you do know it’s supposed to be the other way around? The coffee should be in my hand, for you.” You playfully answered. He nervously chuckled. “Yes, but…” he paused and took a breath, gathering his thoughts. “This is a thank you; for last night. I needed something to take my mind off of and dinner with you helped.” You felt your smile grow wider at the gesture, and the blush creeping on your cheeks started to grow. “Thank you.” You replied, gently taking the cup from his hands.

“Plus, this could be an extra perk if you were having an…odd morning today.” He gives a small smirk, and you feel yourself stiffen for a moment. Does he know? Flashes of the dream reply in your mind for a split second and you let a small giggle escape your lips. “Um, yeah. I’m glad I’m not the only one.” You hint back to Robert with a smirk. His cheeks slightly burn pink at your reply and you feel yours do the same. You look down at your hands and you almost forget the coffee you got Robert as well still in your other hand. “Right, I almost forgot. Here’s your morning coffee for your day as well.” Robert gives a warm smile, taking the cup from your hands. “Thank you, Y/N.” his touch lingers on you a while longer before you let go of the cup with your blushed smile. You shyly turned around and headed to your office until…

“Y/N?” Robert said quickly. Approaching you slowly he let out a quick breath before chuckling to himself nervously. “Would you—“

*RING RING*

Your work cellphone interrupted Robert’s words as you immediately picked it up, before saying sorry as the habit of working kicked in for the day. “Fisher and Morrow. Yes, this is his assistant speaking.” Robert opened his mouth and then closed it, hesitating on what he was about to say. He clenched his fists and realized it wasn’t a good time.

Removing the phone from your ear and closing the call, you gave a sombre look to your boss. Who oddly enough, looked defeated. “I’m sorry that interrupted you Robert, but, you have a meeting to attend to at 11 AM for the draft and another lunch-in with—“ “Associates and finance. I remember.” Feeling defeated, Robert put his hands in his pockets.

“What were you saying though?” You quipped softly. The look you gave him almost wanted him to blurt out what he was going to say, but instead, he sighed. “It’s okay. When we have time, I’ll tell you.” He gave a tight smile, but you know it was bothering him. Although you didn’t know what it was, you made it a goal today to make sure he said his piece.

“Okay, no worries. I’ll come back once the day’s finished. Does that work for you?” Those words he’s heard ten thousand times from your mouth, but this time, it warmed his heart differently. He chuckles nervously once again looking down at his shoes before challenging himself to make eye contact with you.

“That sounds perfect.” That tight-lipped smile turned into a genuine one. The one you were always happy to see. You nodded in agreement and walked away to your office. Butterflies fluttering all over your stomach tenfold. Little did you know, Robert felt the same way.

———

Time passed faster than expected, as Robert didn’t realize it was the end of the day. He was anticipating what he would say and how to say it when you came knocking at the door. The meetings he was in were just white noise, and time to spend thinking about your arrival.

It was rare for Robert to be nervous. Especially like a man of his stature and reputation. This persona he had to uphold for the company’s reputation and face. He learned quickly after switching off auto-pilot on the businessman facade it drained him of his energy. You were the only saving grace to his work and made him still have the energy for late night hours at the office to thank-you-dinners.

That’s why he has to make this right. He doesn’t want to let you go. The company is on the verge of being at its most vulnerable and Robert knows he had to play his cards right. It’s now or never.

The three familiar knocks broke Robert out of his thoughts. He quickly put away his papers and tidied his desk, giving a short ‘Come in’ before you walked in. Holding your organizer, you stepped in and started to delve into today’s completed tasks and tasks for tomorrow. Then, you stopped and closed your organizer.

“So, what did you want to tell me, Robert?”

Robert could feel his heartbeat in his ears. His stomach felt like it was about to drop but he couldn’t stop staring at your dreamy presence. He took a breath and shook his head and finally looked at you. “Would you like to go to dinner with me? And not as a work duty.”

Your expression softened tenfold and you could hear the slight shake in his voice. You’ve rehearsed this moment thousands of times in your head, and you knew the answer before he could’ve even asked. “Yes. Yes, of course.” He let out a relieved chuckle and his smile grew wide, like a child of Christmas. “Great. Let's say tomorrow night, and I’ll pick you up at eight.” He says, almost beaming. “I would love that.”

——

Once you got home, you excitedly twisted your keys and entered your home. Startled at your boyfriend waiting for you, standing in the middle of the living room staring at you. “Jesus, you scared me.” You said softly, as he put your keys back in your pocket and laid your jacket and purse on the coat rack and foyer table.

“Where were you?” His tone was still, almost like he was keeping his anger on the surface. You looked away, avoiding eye contact. “Work, like always.” You said back, albeit softly. This isn’t the first time he’s done this, so you continue to play his bit so it can be done quickly. “Who drives you home?” “I took a taxi.”

That was when he charged at you. Slamming you into the wall and trapping you with his towering frame. The hit at the back of your head throbbed in pain. “I knew you were lying to me. You’re cheating on me aren’t you?” He held you trapped between the wall and him and you shook your head. “No!” Fear ran through your blood and you began shaking. “I called your work, and the receptionist of the building said you got a ride from Fischer. You’re cheating on me with your boss!?” He exclaimed loudly.

Your fear quickly subsided into rage, as you felt yourself getting quite tired of the abuse. And the mention of Robert was the last straw. If he was scared of Robert replacing him, he should be.

“You know what? I did lie. He did give me a ride home.” You said back, almost seething. Your boyfriend felt the rage boil at his fingertips. “You what?!” You yelled, his voice cracking as he felt betrayed. You reached for your keys in your pocket and with all your might, struck him on his head. Giving you ample time to escape being trapped between him and the wall, you scurried off, leaving lots of space between each other. “And I wasn’t cheating on you, because we’re no longer together. So get out of my house.” You held your keys tighter in your hand, ready to strike again. He held his ear, seeing some blood dripping from the skin. He glared at you with rage.

“You’re gonna pay for that, bitch.” Opening the door he steps outside into the cold night in nothing but his shirt and sweatpants. “Have fun fucking your boss and getting fired.”

And with that, he took his car and drove off. No amount of relief hit you more than that very moment after his car was out of sight. You closed the door and smiled.

——

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railingsofsorrow · 9 days

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chapter 1 | catharsis

summary: “Is there— is there something you need?” He's kind. He's so kind and his voice is better than she had ever imagined.

All of all the things she could have said, what came out is something else entirely.

“Your hair is shorter.”

w.c: 3.4K

warnings/content: mentions of mass food poisoning; implied unhealthy relationships (it will be explored later); germaphobia; fluff.

A/N: WE'RE FINISHED WITH THE LETTERS! I was too excited to start writing the longer chapters with a detailed narrative. I know it took too long but.... here it is, I hope you enjoy! annnd, they finally meet!

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LETTERS — [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9]

CHAPTERS — [1] [2] [3] . . .

❝Catharsis❞

[n.] THE EXPERIENCE OF EXPRESSING STRONG EMOTIONS THAT PREVIOUSLY WERE BLOCKED.

━━━━━━━━━ ✉ ━━━━━━━━

“Don't even start, Reid.”

Spencer pursed his lips, shifting on the passenger seat. “I didn't say anything.”

Derek scoffed, “I can hear you thinking.”

“Thought broadcasting is a common phenomenon that happens when one thinks others can hear your thoughts. That is not physically possible. It actually might be a sign of paranoia—”

Derek groaned loudly, begging for the gods above that the traffic went easy on him for five minutes. He needed five minutes to get to the other Interstate. Five. Minutes.

Spencer let out a snicker beside him, having too much fun in being correct as always. He had told Derek beforehand that the safest option would be to take the alternative route, even if that meant it was slightly longer than directly taking the I-95. They still would get to Norfolk University's Student Center faster.

Derek didn't listen to him and here they were, stuck in traffic just as Spencer predicted.

In some way, this was good.

Spencer hated being late to anything, which was why he always double-checks the time so he can get to any place earlier, just to be sure. Just in case. That's him. A pragmatic guy.

But when he heard where the next case was going to be, he backtracked a little.

Spencer has been corresponding with Iris Valencia through letters for the entire month of October. It felt like more, maybe years. He knows that this feeling is quite common for people who had found some sort of connection. They have affinity. A bond, if you will. It explains the reason for your comfort after you've just met someone. You used to be strangers, but you realise they like blueberry muffins too and then you have a coffee date scheduled in the afternoon. It is that simple, sometimes.

Spencer could never relate to that. Well, at least, not before Iris. Although he has never invited her over for coffee and they haven't spoken in person yet.

Yet.

But it felt like it. It felt like he has known her for a long time.

The case was in Norfolk University, 165,7 miles from Quantico. The place Iris worked as a microbiology professor and which she described that her whole department fell sick because of a supposed food poisoning.

That hasn't been the first time a university has had that kind of situation. As she mentioned in one of her letters, the Old Dominion University — another university located in Norfolk — was also on the news about food poisoning. The difference was that it had been only a small group of students that suffered the outcome. NSU had it worst, a large group of people had to be sent to the E.R.

The BAU was called in because of recent deaths in the area. When they eventually connected it to the food poisoning cases happening in the universities, Hotch divided the team into pairs to cover more ground. The suspect list was narrowed down to three students from Norfolk State University.

“What did you say?”

“You and Morgan are off to the M.E's office.” Hotch repeated as they left the precinct.

“You're going to Norfolk State University?” Spencer asked a little dumbfounded. Derek gave him a confused look.

Hotch halted beside the car door, the crease between his brows deepening. “That's where our first victim lived... Reid, are you alright?”

That finally seemed to be the minute Spencer snapped out of it. “Yes,” he said, clearing his throat. “Yes, sorry. I was just making sure. We'll— we'll go now.”

He felt like a thirteen-year-old boy with his first crush. The accelerated heartbeat, the shaky limbs, the sweaty palms. The not knowing what to do and mostly, what Emily always teased him about and what he only recently noticed: his IQ is, in deed, slashed to half when he's attracted to someone.

Spencer had not met Iris yet. But he felt all of those things. Through letters. For the first time in his life he couldn't find a scientific explanation for what he was currently feeling. He hadn’t met her, he hadn't seen her, let alone heard her voice. He's only seen her delicate handwriting with her t's curved at the base and her barely noticeable s's and he was quickly roped to her personality. What Iris shared with him so far, that is.

Spencer studied people for a living. That's a quick way of putting his occupation. He investigated behavior and he entered minds that were just as twisted as the crimes they committed. Some cases stay glued on his brain more than others — it's not like he was able to forget anything, although sometimes he wished he could.

Iris had interested him more than any quantum physics book ever could.

Spencer knows she likes birds. That's one of the first things she shared with him, actually. He also knows that her favorite author is Haruki Murakami and Spencer has read all of her recommendations, he even bought more books besides the ones she mentioned. He knows Iris hates loud noises, clowns and that she takes her coffee black and plain. He knows how much she cares about her students and that she probably loves what she does because of the way she writes about it. He knows that she doesn't believe in magic, but he's determined to change her mind.

To Spencer, Iris was like a book. He had no idea what the cover was like and he had not read the synopsis, but from the first page and on, he decided he wanted to know everything there is to know about the story. He wanted to see if there were small notes at the edges of every page or if there were underlined quotes. He wanted to figure out the mystery before the next chapter arrived, even if the ending might be completely different.

He had come to terms with the fact that he wants to meet her in person for a while now. But Spencer didn't plan when that would happen or if it would happen. He doesn't even know if she would want to meet him.

Now, he was walking into the University she worked at with her letter tucked into his satchel bag as he forced his brain to focus on what was supposed to be focusing on: the case.

"Finally." Emily raised a brow as they walked into the room. According to JJ's message an hour ago, they were talking to the Head of the Biology Department because of a lead on one of the suspects. Hotch and Rossi were speaking with Penelope through the speakerphone in a corner of the room. "Took you long enough."

Spencer shrugged at her jab, pointing at Derek. "I told him, he didn't listen." He was softly shoved in response.

"Shut up, Reid."

"We're waiting for Mark Dawson to come back with a professor who supposedly has some information on Meredith Fitz." JJ clarified before Spencer could question her why they were all reunited in a professor's office. "They're all in class, we don't want to raise too much attention."

"Sorry to keep you all waiting."

A blond man walked into the room with a brunette woman on his trail. He was dressed in a color-coordinated attire, a russet dress shirt with slightly darker khaki pants. A complete contrast with the woman beside him, she wore light blue jeans along with a maroon V-neck sweater vest and a white t-shirt below. Her hair was in a loose bun but some thick curls were falling off. She was tucking them behind her ear constantly.

Spencer noticed she seemed annoyed.

"This is Doctor Valencia, she's our microbiology professor. Meredith is one of her students."

Valencia? As in—

"I can speak for myself." Dr. Valencia said through gritted teeth, shaking hands with every agent. Spencer was too busy sweating like crazy in nervousness to take notice of Emily's and JJ's pointed gaze exchange after the professor's harsh statement towards Professor Dawson. "It's good to meet you, Agents, but I spoke to the police last night, I already gave my formal statement regarding the occurrences of the last week."

The last person to be introduced was him.

He heard something that sounded distinctly like a choked-up sound. He didn't pay much attention until Hotch started conducting questions regarding the case. Because that was what he was focusing on, the case. His hands tingling as she drew hers back, barely giving him a look.

"The FBI?" Iris blinked in surprise. Only now did she seem to really acknowledge everyone in the room. Her shoulders tensed up. "So that wasn't just accidental food poisoning."

"We're investigating that," Hotch said, being vague on purpose. "It came to our knowledge that Meredith Fitz is one of your mentees?"

Iris nodded, running a hand through her face. "Yes, yes, she is. Meredith is, um, completing her master's degree in post-mortem microbiology."

"Does she have access to your lab?"

"All of my students have," Iris said. "We have practical classes." She visibly stiffened. "Is she a suspect?"

“We're looking into it,” Hotch responded.

Iris stepped out of her frozen state, interrupting another question being thrown her away.

“This isn't— This isn't right.” She begun. “Meredith is one of my top students. She's a nice girl, she wouldn't do this.”

Emily nodded sympathetic, “as he said, we are still investigating that information. But we do need to speak with her so that can be clarified.” Before Iris could speak, Mark beat her to it.

“She didn't come to class today, so that won't be possible, will it?” Mark sent a look towards Iris that anyone in the room could read it as a pretty clear insinuation. Iris wasn't paying attention to him, she was lost in her thoughts, gaze focused on a corner of the room.

Spencer was itching to say something, but he stood quiet.

“Neither did Fabian Helley. Another top student of Dr. Valencia here.” He added, leaning back on his desk. “You know, maybe you should investigate this particular pattern.”

Derek let out a sigh. He was done with Dawson's little game. It was clear that the guy was trying to antagonize Iris.

“Sir—”

“Please stop.”

Every eye in the room snapped towards her voice. Iris clutched the back of her arm as if she was trying to give herself some form of grounding. Spencer could see how much she cared for each one of her students. He's read about it, it's all in her letters, but even his coworkers who didn't have that bonus glimpse into her character could tell that.

They could also tell she was greatly bothered by Mark Dawson. And Spencer himself was starting to get bothered by him as well.

“I'll answer your questions and anything else in my office. Is that okay with you?”

Nobody protested against that and Mark stood by his desk, arms crossed much like a petulant child. They followed Iris towards her office while exchanging curious glances. She did answer all of their questions, hesitating slightly whenever the questions were directed towards Meredith Fitz and Fabian Helley, mostly because she did not believe they could have done such a monstrosity as mass poisoning.

“What happened to being a germaphobe, pretty Ricky?” Derek nudged his shoulder, earning a confused look from Spencer. “You shook the professor's hand. Not a single complaint as always.”

“I was being polite.” His cheeks were burning. Did he shake her hand? Thankfully she wasn’t close enough to listen to their conversation.

Derek disguised a chuckle by soft coughing and Spencer glared at him.

"I'd like to apologize about Professor Dawson. He's been on edge ever since all this started." Iris informed as Rossi and Hotch left the room to call Garcia.

"We can see that," Emily smiled reassuringly at her. "If you don't mind me asking, is there a particular reason why he seemed displeased about Fabian Helley?" Iris shifted on her feet and everyone else in the room pretended they were not listening in on the conversation since Emily had approached her in a rather private manner.

Still, Iris did not relent.

"Mark is always displeased by something or someone." It was the last thing she decided to share after pondering to herself.

It wasn't until Hotch came back into the room to send each of them to interview a few other witnesses — except for Spencer, who he requested to start the geographical profile since they had enough cases as of now – that Iris seemed to glance in Spencer's direction.

Dr. Reid, who she shook hands with and didn't even properly notice until now. Iris was generally a perceptive person, she caught things quickly. Though she's having trouble focusing ever since this morning, perks of a bad night's sleep. She blamed that for not realising him sooner, that was the only possible explanation, really. His honey-brown eyes switched to his colleagues as soon as she caught him looking.

Iris’ breath caught in her throat. The Behaviour Analysis Unit is here. Spencer mentioned in one of his letters that he works for the FBI... She truly was slow today, wasn't she?

“Dr. Valencia?”

She snaps out of her daze to stare at a pretty blonde woman in a dark blazer, she wore a blue t-shirt below. Agent Jareau. That's her name.

“Sorry,” Iris cleared her throat, feeling her cheeks heat up at being caught staring at him. She must look like such a creep. “I zoned out. Were you speaking to me?”

She offers her a sympathetic smile before saying, “we don't want to take much of your time. We know you have lectures to teach. Thank you for your patience.”

“No need to thank me, Agent. It's all good.” Just as each of them gave her their farewells, she was stuck in an inner argument about whether or not she should talk to him. It's not appropriate. He didn't even recognize you, wake up.

Not appropriate. Not appropriate. NOT APPROPRIATE.

“Uh, Dr. Reid?” It was barely above a whisper as if she had been scared of saying it too loud. His body turning around fast was the indication she needed that he had heard her. Thankfully, his team was a little further down the hall to notice the small exchange. “Sorry, I don't mean to get in your way—”

She's completely awkward all of a sudden. Iris couldn't grasp her mind that she's been talking to this man for over a month, flirting, trauma bonding and now she couldn’t utter a word without sounding like she didn’t know a word in the English language.

“Is there— is there something you need?” He's kind. He's so kind and his voice is better than she had ever imagined.

All of all the things she could have said, what came out is something else entirely.

“Your hair is shorter.”

Well, fuck, Iris. Congratulations, you have officially made a fool out of yourself!

“I did not intend to say that out loud, I am so so sorry, Spenc— Dr. Reid. I just, I saw a picture of yours because of an article that I read and—”

“Iris.”

“And I—” she froze, watching a smile grow on his lips, which immediately brought warmth to her chest. Somehow, it didn't feel as if he was laughing at her. If he was then it's a beautiful sight to uphold regardless. “Yes?”

“I thought you didn't recognize me.” Spencer bit the inside of his cheek, shifting on his feet. She observed the worn-out sneakers causing her lips to twitch in amusement. One of Iris's assumptions was that Spencer was the kind of guy to wear fancy shoes — it only made sense because of the way he dressed — but that surprised her. At least she’s not the profiler. “You know, we've only been corresponding through letters so I figured you wouldn't...”

Her lips parted in astonishment. “You recognized me?”

His brows furrowed slightly, “yes. Your name is literally on the case file.”

“Oh.”

His eyes softened at her widened eyes as she processed the information. And then his brain pinched him with the fact that that's not how we're supposed to meet. Not because of a case. I'm supposed to invite her for coffee just so I can certify if she actually takes her coffee plain black with barely any sugar on it. Or a library, so we can ramble together about our favourite authors and books.

Not.in.the.middle.of.a.case.

“You probably have a whole file about me, huh?” Her tone was playful and Spencer remembered how he grinned whenever he read her sarcasm through paragraphs of her handwriting. He learned to find Iris's humor through her words. Seeing it displayed right in front of him, full of vivid colors and a voice he tried to imagine for so long what it was like... He's speechless and already addicted to it.

“Our technical analyst probably has.” Spencer croaked out, forcing himself to avert his gaze to his feet instead.

Iris’s eyes acquired a spark of excitement.

“Is that the one with the clingy hugs?”

Spencer let his mouth quirk up on the edges, “yes. That's Penelope.”

“So you know all of my dark secrets before we even share them to each other.” He could hear her playful tone that carried a bit of uncertainty in the end.

“I have no reason to read your file,” Spencer said. Because he didn't. Not unless she was an official suspect. “So no, I don't know about any of your dark secrets.”

“That's good. You won't run for the hills yet.”

“What makes you think I would ever run?”

Their gazes remain on each other for a brief moment until one of them eventually caved and looks away, necks reddening, heartbeat increasing.

“Call me Spencer.” He said, squeezing the strap of his work bag until his fingers turned white. His phone vibrating in his pocket alerted him he'd taken too much time talking and less time working. He didn't want to go. “I-uh, I've read your letter. Just in case you think I've been ignoring you... I haven't. I just haven't had the time to write you back properly.”

Iris tilted her head as she leaned against the wall. “Maybe you don't need to write me back.” What am I doing? She thinks.

He cast her a look of puzzlement before his disappointment could take over, Iris was quick to clarify what she meant.

“Maybe we could talk instead of write.” She added carefully. Confidence wearing thin. “Over coffee? Not today, of course, you're working and I'm working and we wouldn't have time but... It's—It's a stupid idea, isn't it? I'm sorry. Pretend I didn't suggest—”

“I would love to talk instead of write.” Now that I can finally hear your voice, I can stop trying to image what you sounded like through your letters. I don't want to ever stop listening to you.

Iris gave him a look of surprise as if she had been expecting rejection because that just might have been the most out-of-place idea she had. Asking Spencer Reid out on a date while he's in the middle of a case where she works?

“You need to go.” She mused, giving a pointed look at the vibrating cell in his hands.

“As soon as the investigation is over.” He told her after they'd exchanged numbers through their phones. Iris nodded, smiling wildly as he took a few steps back to leave her office but still didn't quite leave.

“As soon as the investigation is over, Dr. Reid.”

Spencer halts, holding onto the doorway as if stopping himself from leaving — or staying. She didn't know which.

“Call me Spencer.” He repeated, grabbing his phone to pick up the call. Slowly, a smile etched its way into her face and his mouth followed the same action.

“Okay, Spencer.”

Spencer nodded, holding in a smile. “I have to go.” I don’t want to.

“Please do. I don't want the FBI locking me up because I held you against your will in my office.” A joke. He liked hearing her jokes instead of reading them. “Be careful.” She requested in a slightly more serious tone, just like she always wrote in her letters addressed to him.

“You too,” he said, taking his time to look at her one last time before he had to sprint off to where Derek required him.

It was very nice seeing you, Iris.

━━━━━━━━━ ✉ ━━━━━━━━━

A/N: hey everyone, welcome to the next phase of SBPP. I'm excited. next chapter you'll have a deeper glimpse into iris' character and some things will come to light. i'd love to read what you guys are thinking of this fic!

taglist: @lilyviolets ; @chayceschultz ; @cultish-corner ; @lover-of-books-and-tea ; @theonecalledrue

#sun-bleached paper petals #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x original character #spencer reid x iris valencia #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #sun-bleached paper petals fic

18 notes · View notes

justimajin · 7 months

Text

The Profit & Love Statement » Pt. 15

↠ Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

↠ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst

↳ 4.5k / CEO AU

↠ Updated Summary: Through hours of endless training and hard work, Kim Seokjin is finally the CEO of Kim Electronics. He has everything at his hands - status, money, power. He owes it all to you, his rigid and sarcastic mentor who overseed his entire training. But as he steps into the shoes of becoming the CEO, he can only wonder what it means for your relationship now.

GIF credit.

↠ Next Update: Tuesday, October 10 (series masterpost here)

Heading into the office is like mission impossible.

The first thing that catches your eye is the sheer amount of photographers surrounding the building, prohibiting your pathway and denying any access to the front door. You glance around with a frown at the display, attempting to politely ask for a pass through.

It completely fails; the photographer briefly sends a glimpse in your direction before turning around all together.

You try again and again, before giving up and ultimately having to shove your way through just to make it inside.

Unfortunately, the interior isn’t any better either.

There’s crowds of people littering the area, clumped together in suffocating groups. The sound of loud buzzing chatter barely gives you a chance to make out what’s going on, left simply staring in utter puzzlement.

A call of your name has you swiveling around.

Hoseok’s eyes light up and his hand reaches out, gesturing you towards him. You stride over and he pulls you aside, far from the accumulating crowd.

You end up following after him to a less crowded elevator, sucking in a harsh inhale.

“Good morning.” You manage to get out.

Hoseok chuckles at your exhausted tone, “Good morning to you too. I hope your day hasn’t been too rough.”

“Aside from all the lovely guests I had to encounter this morning?” You sarcastically retort, “Of course not! It’s been wonderful.”

Hoseok snorts and the elevator finally dings, greeting you a handful of five people inside right off the bat. You and Hoseok manage to squeeze through before the doors close and although it’s still not ideal, you’re grateful for the reduced quantity of individuals.

“What’s even going on here?” You retort, mind swimming with the amount of excess people flooding your office. Sure, you’ve had your busier days with plenty of meetings, but this was getting more and more absurd by the minute.

Hoseok shrugs, “I’m not too sure.”

You raise an eyebrow at that, but the curiosity is all thrown away once the elevator doors open again to another flood of people. You and Hoseok end up being pushed towards a corner, to which Hoseok ends up sheepishly laughing while you glance around in annoyance.

However, your curiosity spikes up once again when you notice that the people surrounding you aren’t in business wear, with no indication of name tags either. Instead, there’s camera’s looped around their necks and notepad’s lined in their hands.

You’re close to making a joke to Hoseok that it almost looks like there’s a celebrity within your office, but the realization dawns as the smile fades from your lips.

The elevator reaches your floor and all the individuals crushing you immediately exit. You’re left staring at their backsides, frozen in place.

Hoseok swivels, “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

“The date today…” You whisper. In an instant, you’re rummaging through your belongings, fetching your phone and unlocking the screen.

Surely enough, it seems like your hunch is right.

“Y/N? Hello?” Hoseok waves a hand in front of your face, catching your attention.

In a hurry, you begin to explain, “It’s been two months since–“

“Mr. Kim, this way please!”

Your eyes flicker for a moment, solely picking up on the multiple heads surrounding one particular office until your vision finally focuses.

Your jaw drops wide open.

Because among the swarming group of people is a former intern that you can barely recognize.

Standing near his new office’s door – he dons a beige suit, dress shirt actually tucked in and jacket properly enveloping his shoulders. His hair is neatly combed and pushed back, a small smile lining his lips as constant flashes go off nearby him.

You’ve never seen him so put together before.

“Seokjin?!” Hoseok exclaims, whipping his head around, “Does this mean–?”

A lop-sided smile rises on your lips and you cross your arms, “Looks like the rest of Kim Electronics is meeting their new CEO for the first time.”

“No wonder….” Hoseok laughs in astonishment, “Should we go congratulate him?”

Hoseok shares the same thoughts running through your mind. You’re truly experiencing a mix of genuine surprise and joy, gladly seeking the opportunity to give congrats and playfully chide Jin for not telling you about the upcoming news.

But your feet falter upon seeing the sheer crowd surrounding him as he plasters on a smile.

“Maybe later.” You bring up, “I’m sure we’ll get an opportunity to officially give our congrats.”

Hoseok nods and the two of you depart, swiftly weaving yourselves through the multitude of people to reach your work stations.

You, truthfully, couldn’t have been more wrong.

To be fair, you expected this. For the longest amount of time, whether it was through training Jin as an intern to working alongside him in the office, his lingering deadline was always out there and you knew that in time, he would ultimately step into the position he came to uptake since he arrived.

But you weren’t expecting this, that he would constantly be encircled by hoards of people, each demanding his attention in different ways. You weren’t expecting the sheer load of scrutiny on him, everyone either wanting to catch a glance at their new CEO or lined up for him to have work to do as the new head.

It’s all out of your expectations. You suppose that overtime, a part of you completely forgot why he was here in the first place.

And you also can’t help but wonder… if a part of you actually misses hi–

The door yanks open and slams shut, causing your shoulders to jolt. You twist around in puzzlement, only for your eyes to enlarge.

Because standing before you with his back turned, is Jin.

You blink wide-eyed, about to open up your mouth to ask what on earth he was doing in the printing room, until he slumps down and plants a hand against his forehead.

“Oh, thank god.”

Being left speechless, you decide to clear your throat.

Immediately he pivots around, expression full of alarm. But upon seeing you, he freezes.

“Y/N?”

You’re still not accustomed to seeing him look so professional, too used to his laid-back demeanor.

“It’s nice to see you, CEO Kim.” You politely smile, reacting as if you were mere strangers.

His features sour in an instant. “Oh, please. Not you too.”

Your professional smile breaks as you laugh and he sighs, playfully shaking his head.

“What’s wrong? Didn’t like me using your new official title?”

“You mean the title everyone has been calling me for the past couple of hours?” He chuckles, “No thanks.”

“Congrats, by the way.” You bring up with a grin, “Me and Hoseok saw you this morning, but I didn’t get the chance to tell you.”

“You did?” He says in surprise, “Why didn’t you just come over?”

“I mean, I could have, but I’m not sure I could have made it through the crowd that was surrounding you.”

“Ah, that’s true...” He agrees with a grimace, shaking his head.

“I know it’s just the first day, but how’s it been?” You wonder, “Training was enough, or no?”

“The training was enough, that’s for sure,” He states, “but it’s…a lot. Definitely a lot to handle.”

You hum and he continues, “It’s like I know what I’m doing, but there’s too much to do.”

“Right,” You nod in acknowledgement, “There is a huge difference in working at the company as an employee versus trying to run it.”

“Exactly.” He laughs underneath his breath, appearing a bit defeated. “I think I might just start living in my office if things keep going like this.”

You chuckle, “Well if I get the chance to step away from my work today, we should grab a coffee so you can get a break of some kind too.”

Jin’s eyes brighten, “Yeah, we should. That sounds really nice…”

Your wide smile matches his own. But then he tilts his head to the side and crosses his arm, raising a playful brow.

“Wait, aren’t I technically your boss at the end of the day?”

Your nose scrunches up, “Oh, please.”

Jin loudly laughs at your subdued reaction, something he truthfully hasn’t seen from anyone all day.

“Woah, woah!” Hoseok waves his hands, staring at you flabbergasted, “Rewind a little!”

Your brows furrow, “What do you mean?”

“Wait, the guy I met was the Kim Seokjin?” Jungkook interrupts with wide eyes, “And he’s the CEO of the company?!”

Yoongi pats him on the back, “You’ve got a lot of catching up to do, kid.”

Jungkook glances at him in disbelief, but Hoseok shushes them, “Wait a second! Y/N, you have to go over everything again!”

“What is there to go over?” You wonder, noticing even Yoongi and Jungkook turning their attention over to you. All of you were seated inside the break room, taking your lunch breaks together. For the most part, the conversation lingered on how Jungkook was finding his new job, but then Hoseok brought up Jin becoming the new CEO – which led to many questions on Jungkook’s behalf – and you had mentioned running into Miyeon, which spiralled into–

“I was over at his house and had breakfast with his family in the morning,” You mention with a shrug, “Afterwards, he dropped me off at home.”

Hoseok lets out a gasp and Jungkook’s jaw drops. Yoongi stares at you with wide eyes.

Their collective reactions have you raising an eyebrow.

“What?”

“You were at his house for the night…” Yoongi calmly says, despite his perplexed expression.

“–and had breakfast with his family–“ Hoseok pitches in.

Jungkook quite literally stands up. “And then had the CEO of the company drop you home?!”

You furrow your brows, “You guys are literally just repeating what I said.”

“Because you make it sound so normal!” Hoseok loudly says, right as the door to the room opens and two individuals emerge.

Taehyung grins, “Hi guys!”

Behind him, Jimin peers around with curious eyes.

Yoongi snorts, “You’re just in time.”

“Time for what?” He wonders, slipping into the seat next to Jungkook. Jimin walks over and sits next to you, greeting you with a kind smile that you return.

“Time to hear that Y/N apparently went over to Seokjin’s house, met his family and then was given a ride by him in the morning.”

Taehyung nearly chokes, “You what?!”

You stare at all of them with unamused eyes, “Why am I getting the sense all of you are blowing this out of proportion?”

Jimin innocently taps your shoulder, “Sorry, who is Seokjin? Your husband?”

Your mouth falls agape and Jungkook bursts out laughing. Jimin’s eyes widen slightly and he glances around in confusion.

“I-I’m sorry, was I wrong?”

“Don’t worry about it, Jimin.” Hoseok says with a grin, taking in your expression, “But I think Y/N’s finally discovered what we’ve been trying to tell her.”

You shake your head with a huff, snapping out of your daze. “I didn’t go there on purpose! Remember Miyeon? My friend who I reconnected with?”

“Sorry, I completely forgot about it once you mentioned the CEO.” Jungkook brings up with a cheeky smile and you scoff, rolling your eyes at him.

“Anyways, yes, the person you bumped into is the CEO.” You mention to Jungkook, before turning to Jimin. “Kim Seokjin is the new CEO of the company, but he was hired as an intern and trained by some of us before taking up the position.”

Jimin hums in awe, all the loose dots finally beginning to connect.

“Our training was truly the best for him.” Taehyung brings up to his new friend, “He wouldn’t have made it without us.”

Yoongi frowns, “Didn’t you train him for the shortest amount of time?”

Taehyung pouts. “Don’t undermine my contributions.”

Jimin furrows his brows, “How long was his training? If I can ask?”

“About two months.” Taehyung mentions.

Jimin blinks, “Two months?”

“The original head of the company and who is also his father, CEO Namjung, was looking to retire.” You explain and Jimin nods, “When Jin first came as an intern, it was already planned that his training would lead up to him becoming the CEO.”

“Wow….” Jimin whispers baffled, “I don’t know, that just sounds like a lot.”

“It is.” Hoseok glances at you, “Speaking of which, he did look pretty stressed this morning.”

Yoongi hums, “I can’t imagine having all these reporters around was pleasant either.”

“Taking up the position of new CEO would be stressful and unpleasant to anyone.” Jimin concludes from their thoughts.

You slowly nod, agreeing with their notions. Although Jin seemed fine to you when you spoke earlier, you distinctly recall the words he had used – that this all was just simply a lot to handle.

After a very long conversation at lunch with Hoseok constantly pondering if there was something going on between the two of you during lunch, you ultimately headed back to your work area. In light of the company going through changes and having a new head, it seemed that your workload had simply increased with more things on your plate than you would like.

You decide to take a break after a couple hours pass by and there’s one too many yawns slipping by your lips. Glancing over at Yoongi’s side, you were able to question if he wanted to tag along with you – but then you realize he’s preoccupied with his own tasks, namely being on the phone and scribbling down a bunch of numbers on a notepad as he stares at his own monitor.

Heading over to the break room, you vaguely recall promising Jin that you would drag him out from the confines of his office if there was a chance you could step away from work. Your feet falter, and it’s not long before you’re standing near the cubicle, a crease in between your brows.

You know that the conversation you were having today at lunch was simply just joking around, that Hoseok and Jungkook were merely pestering and probing you about the encounter as much as they could. But it’s at this moment, you can’t help but think things might have shifted.

Namely, you would have never hesitated to drop by Jin’s work area and ask if he wanted to grab a coffee together. But things are different now and on top of that…

Is it just you or does the door to the CEO’s office right in front of you seem a bit daunting?

You pursue your lips.

Should you even ask? Would that be weird?

You stand frozen there, still contemplating the choice. If anything, the recollection of Jin quickly slipping into the printing room with ease and barely reacting to being called CEO emerges, and you have to remind yourself of something you did when you first met him.

Regardless of his new status, he’s still the same person that throws out casual self-praises and will tell you terrible jokes till no end.

Raising your hand, you knock against the door.

It takes a moment for it to open, but when it does, your hopeful smile falls.

“Yes?” A young man in a formal black suit greets you. There’s an employee tag hanging from his suit, but otherwise from that, you can’t recall seeing him around anywhere.

“Uh, I needed to speak with the CEO…” The request feels odd to say, but the man nods, opening the door for you.

“He’s currently in a meeting right now, but should be back soon.” He states, guiding you inside, “Can I ask what you need to discuss with him?”

“Oh–“ You hesitate, not really expecting him to ask you. In an attempt to quickly conjure something up, you blurt the last thing you were working on from the top of your head, “I-It’s about the budget for the latest product.….”

He nods, gesturing to a chair in front of a long desk, “Please be seated.”

You do as you’re told and the man turns, exiting the room. Letting out a breath of relief, you muse over your poor attempt in creating an excuse just to see Jin and you can only wonder what his response would be.

“Seriously? You came to talk to me about a budget?” He shakes his head, “Are you holding a grudge against me or something?!”

A light laugh leaves your lips, but you quickly conceal it when you realize you’re still sitting in an office that technically belonged to the head of your company.

A deep sigh escapes you. You know you convinced yourself that this isn’t at all strange, but it’s harder to abide by that when you’re seated in front of a huge room that’s twice the size of every office you’ve been in.

Time stretches out longer than you would like and when you find yourself gazing outside the glass door only to catch employee’s working for the CEO, the more it dawns on you.

Maybe you can just postpone… You think, It’s just coffee…and it’s not like you can’t see him outside of the office.

Standing up with an exhale, you decide it would be best if you had just left.

However, that’s when your knee bumps into the desk in front of you.

A pile of files spill onto the ground, spreading out in different directions. Sucking in a sharp inhale, you rush to grasp onto them, quickly stacking them together with occasional glances at the door.

You reach out to grasp the last one, stuffing the contents back in until you realize–

There’s a red seal on it.

A frown mars your features, having never seen the specific marking on a company file before. Carefully placing the papers back in, your eyes unconsciously land right onto the detailed writing.

“Building approval….” You mumble. Was the company moving elsewhere? “Contractors agreement…budget of–“

You blink at the moment, knowing that it wasn’t possible for such a low budget to exist within your company.

You focus back onto the contractors agreement, “Equipment and furniture must be bought, as well as labour that will be include servers and chefs–“

Your eyes flicker for a brief moment, as if all the loose dots have been connected. Blinking your eyes rapidly, you quickly secure the files back and place them back onto the desk.

Turning around, the door to the office is open and leaning against it is the same man that approved your entry.

He frowns, “Is everything okay?”

“Uh, yes–“ He doesn’t seem to have noticed that you basically knocked down a hoard of confidential files, “I-I should get back to work. You can tell Ji– I mean the CEO that he can follow up with me later.”

The man’s frown doesn’t change, but you decide not to stick around for that. You walk away before he can question you more, heading straight back to your work station.

Only this time, your mind is buzzing with a million thoughts.

“You’re back.”

Yoongi remarks, watching you return back to your cubicle with a small smile. There’s a couple of sheets with filled out paperwork in front of him, namely the ones he was working on before you left.

You sit down silently, brows furrowed.

“Y/N?” Yoongi calls out in concern. Your daze snaps and you whirl around, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Huh?”

Yoongi raises a brow, “Everything okay?”

You blink, “Uh, yeah…I just–“

You pursue your lips and Yoongi glances over in confusion, leaning closer to you, “What is it?”

“Well…” You warily peer around, something Yoongi notices. “I went to go see Jin…”

He also notices that you’re whispering, “Yeah, and?”

“And he wasn’t there, so they let me in and told me to wait…” You quickly explain, “It was taking a while and there were a lot of people around, so I decided to come back to work but then I knocked over some of his files.”

Yoongi has a puzzled frown. “Okay…”

“And well–“ A corner of your mouth quirks, “I found plans in it. For a new restaurant.”

Yoongi’s eyes enlarge. “For the company?”

You shake your head, “As a project. Like, something he was working on the side.”

He blinks, “I don’t understand…why would he try to open a restaurant on top of everything he has to do here?”

You faintly smile.

“It was a childhood dream.” He clarifies quickly, eyeing you carefully as you nonchalantly stare back, “Just a dream, but I…I thought one day, it would be cool to own one.”

“I think of a couple of reasons,” You remark, “but it seemed like it was still in the planning stages, and some of the plans were even dated back a few years…”

Yoongi brings up, “So it’s been in the works for a while–“

“And maybe he hasn’t gotten the chance to complete it, until now.” You finish.

“I guess so.” Yoongi says, “I don’t know if it’s such a good thing though. He’s just become CEO and now to open up a restaurant?” He shakes his head, “Sounds a bit risky.”

You hum, recalling the low budget and how none of the plans had been finalized, “It looks like it could work, but it just needs some–“

“Support?” Yoongi raises a brow, staring at you suspiciously. You laugh sheepishly, avoiding his scrutiny.

“I’m just saying–“ You protest, but Yoongi isn’t having any of it.

“But are you?”

“Fine, let’s stop talking about this.” You raise your hands up in defense, “I just thought I’d bring up and we could discuss it through–“

Yoongi’s smile stretches, glancing at his monitor. “As I so coincidentally happen to be well versed in numbers and finances?”

You grow flustered with his keen observation and he laughs.

***

As much as you’d hate to admit it, Yoongi is right to a certain extent.

Seokjin’s plan, as pre-planned as it is, is risky and you would be blind not to see that. But it didn’t come off as much of a surprise to you as it did for Yoongi, already being able to piece the dots together.

However, the plan can only remain a thought if there are no practical implications. You can already identify that the budget is far too less, not being able to cover additional costs associated with promotions – something the lack of finalization just further proves.

In addition to this, you believe some of the plans are far too detailed. It almost makes you think that Seokjin perhaps had a specific image in his mind that he was trying to create, as ambiguous and interesting as it is. But for a project that’s just begun, there has to be leniency – flexibility to say, in case future profits and revenues don’t meet up with expectations.

You let out a sigh, knowing that one simple glimpse at the contents in the files is making your mind run haywire. It isn’t enough to say it grabbed your attention, but when you can see the potential, see through his perspective, it’s difficult for you to erase any lingering thoughts about it.

Aside from him, it’s risky on your part, but somehow you can't help but wonder if you can do something.

Heck, you want to at least try bringing it into fruition.

But where would you even begin? You’re a sales representative – someone who has basic understanding of how the logistics work but not exactly enough expertise for execution…

A shoulder roughly bumps into yours, nearly knocking you backwards. You stagger for a moment, but two hands shoot out, steading you immediately.

You’re left making eye contact with a familiar face.

“Are you alright?” His deep voice ponders, concerned gaze latched onto your features. You blink for a moment, a smile instantly breaking out onto your features.

“Namjoon?”

He peers at you, a bit confused until he mimics your smile. “It’s been a while.”

You warmly nod, “I’m alright, by the way. Was just a little surprised.”

He hums in response and you step off to the side, assuming he was headed somewhere. But when he turns to leave, your lips suddenly move and–

“Say, do you have a minute?”

“Of course.” He instantly spins around and shifts closer.

Your eyes squint, “Have you had the chance to check in with Seokjin lately?”

“Uh– a little.” He sheepishly laughs, “I have seen him since he’s become CEO, if that’s what you’re wondering, but talked to him…I’m afraid I haven’t gotten the chance.”

“I see…” You mutter.

“What is it? Did you need to tell him something?”

“Oh, no. I was just…. curious about a matter.” You pursue your lips, “Do you know about any side projects he’s been invested in?”

“Side projects…” Namjoon questions, a little taken back with your inquiry. His expression is telling enough of his knowledge, a deep frown etching onto his features.

“I don’t think so.” He responds after a moment, “The most I’ve heard him discuss something other than work is about his cooking hobby.” A grin surfaces on his features, “I remember he once asked me what it would take to open a restaurant in theory. I told him it was an ambitious move that he would have to put a lot of thought into.”

Namjoon tenderly laughs from the memory, but your eyes flicker, staring at the man in awe.

“He was asking about opening a restaurant….?”

“Yes, in theory.” He shakes his head, “I doubt he would ever seriously consider it.”

You gnaw down on your lip, Namjoon’s words swaying you elsewhere.

“And what if he was?”

His brows knit together, “What do you mean?”

Sucking in a sharp inhale, you detail the encounter the same way you had explained to Yoongi, giving him a general gist. You watch as Namjoon’s eyes grow wide with every word you speak, his expression clearly showcasing he was not expecting the turn of events.

Once you’re done, he’s shaking his head, “I….I can’t believe he was even considering this.”

You shrug, “Me either, I just happened to come across it.”

The daze in Namjoon’s eyes breaks and his gaze shifts over to you, intent residing within them.

“And is it safe to assume you brought this up to me with a purpose?”

You nod, “I want to know if anything can be done. If you can see the same potential that I’m seeing.”

Namjoon blinks wide-eyed, not expecting that response.

A small smile curls at the corner of his lips. “I can see your train of thought, but it highly depends on the current plan.” His eyes grow stern, “When will this all be finalized? Who are we getting permits from? How much are the costs? The questions are practically infinite.”

“But not impossible?” You remark and there’s a certain glint to your eyes that Namjoon is quick to pick up on.

“But not impossible…” He retaliates in confirmation, sharing a knowing glance with you.

He clears his throat. “When do you want to get started?”

Your response is instant. “As soon as possible, if that’s okay.”

Namjoon nods in agreement, his smile not fading. The two of you part ways in opposite directions, but there’s a determined look in your eyes that only seems to mimic the intrigued ones Namjoon holds.

36 notes · View notes

preciouslandmermaid · 2 years

Text

nothing’s gonna hurt you baby (carmy x f!reader) - part 10

Note: I have an order for Yearning, table of 1. Also, I love the trope where the man is so in love that it makes him a pathetic loser. I love that shit.

Warnings/Tags: None

Synopsis: It's fourth of July and Richie invites you to come see some fireworks with everyone. You decide to go even if Carmy isn't. Some secrets can only be told the dark, in the space between bursts of color, when everyone else is distracted.

(Read on Ao3) /// (Masterpost)

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

Most businesses were closed for Fourth of July. You, however, were not. You were on custom-orders only, which meant no one could enter without proof of an order slip, but somehow—Richie got in. He swaggered into your office with a big grin, opening his arms like he’d hug you, before dropping them at your cold, serious look.

“What, no love for the guy who beat up your dad?”

You rolled your eyes, pointed to the invoices on your desk with your pen, “I’m working.”

Richie stepped behind and leaned over you while holding the back of your desk chair. It wobbled a little with the new weight and pressure. You resisted the urge to elbow him off.

“Doesn’t look as grim as Carmy’s office.” He said with a snort before pushing away and you caught yourself against the edge of your desk before your chair could roll forward. You frowned at his words. How much trouble was Carmy in? You still didn’t know even after helping him with the IRS situation. All you had were hints and clues and none of them boded well. If only he’d ask you for help, you could probably help him arrange for a first-time business owner loan or a bailout.

He peered at the whiteboard on the wall, grabbing a marker without asking, and wrote ‘I love Richie’ in bold letters. You sighed and reorganized your paperwork into a neat, color-coded folder.

“Are you just here to annoy me because the Beef is closed?” You asked. “Because if so, I’ll put you to work. Unpaid.”

Richie’s laughing blue eyes cut to you, mid-drawing of Fak holding a dick, “Hah! Nice try, but that’s illegal. I’m not here to be your bitchboy.”

“What a shame.” You joined him at the whiteboard and started erasing his artwork. He leaned his shoulder against the wall, folded his lanky arms across his chest and grinned. You noticed he wasn’t wearing his wedding ring anymore.

“Oh yeah? You into the dom-stuff?” He asked with far too much interest for your liking. Was he trying to flirt with you? Or did Richie still assume you and Carmy were together? You huffed through your nostrils. You and Carmy were friends. That was it. You hoped to pursue something romantic with him, but not now. Everything was too chaotic, too stressful. If you tried a relationship, you’d be a mess, and he deserved someone more put-together, more perfect, more healed.

You said, “I’m into you leaving my office.”

“Rude.” He replied without heat, “What’re you doing tonight?”

“Oh my god! Richie?!” You dropped the eraser and placed your hand over your heart, “Are you asking me out?” You mocked with fake surprise and glee.

“You wish, sweetheart.” His grin widened. “Nah, we’re having fireworks at Seward Park. You know it?”

You nodded and Richie said, “You should come.”

You eyed him dubiously, “You got a permit to launch fireworks?”

Richie laughed.

“Fuck no.” He peered down at you, “I just know the beat cop working the area and asked him to look the other way.”

Richie came all this way just to invite you to an illegal firework celebration. Incredible. Your phone was heavy and silent in your pocket. Why didn’t Carmy tell you about it? Did he think you wouldn’t want to go? Was he going? You tried to imagine it, Carmy in a state of relaxation, and your nose crinkled even as a smile pulled at the corners of your mouth.

“Oh, I know that dopey-eyed look.” He teased.

You lightly shoved him, “Shut up, Richie, and get out of my office.”

He took a pointed step backward, hands up in surrender before tucking them into the pockets of his track pants.

“Just come, alright? Bring some fucking crêpes or whatever.” He backpaddled out of your office and you heard him yelling farewells to your staff. The marker left residue on the board, like an echo, a faded ghost of Richie’s shitty drawings, and you chuckled to yourself with a small shake of your head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You decided to go to Steward Park even if Carmy wasn’t there. Because otherwise your evening would consist of take-out and watching re-runs of the Great British Bake Off. It’ll be good to get out of the rut of routine and be social for one night. You could afford it. It would be good for you (or so you hoped).

You trekked across the damp grass toward the cluster of people silhouetted by camping lanterns and the tiny, telltale reddish glows of lit cigarettes. You’ve got a tin of cookies tucked under your arm and a special cupcake with extra frosting for your favorite annoying string bean of a man. You noticed Carmy among them, talking to a blonde woman, and you quashed the unnecessary jealousy that burbled in your stomach.

Marcus was the first to notice you, his smile bright and welcoming, “You made it!”

“I made it.” You placed the tin of cookies onto the white, folded table on the grass. The food laid out is standard Beef affair—hot dogs with toppings on the side, roast beef sandwiches, and a cooler with ice and cans of pop. Eva, clearly up past her bedtime, immediately grabbed for the cookie tin with her mom trailing behind.

Marcus asked, “Did you make these?”

You shook your head. “Dani.”

“I’m sure they’re fire.”

“Try ‘em first.” You replied, shrugging, though your grin is proud and earnest. You recognized nearly everyone here—except for the blonde woman talking to Carmy a few feet away and the dork in the sweater vest. The needle in your chest dug deeper. You ignored it. Tina introduced you to her son. Angel introduced you to his sister. Syd introduced you to her dad. Everyone had someone with them, and you bit the inside of your cheek. Richie didn’t mention shit about bringing guests or dates.

Speaking of Richie….you find him in the crowd.

“Hey! Richie!” He looked to you, “I brought you something.” You announced, holding his cupcake aloft and raising both eyebrows at him.

He chortled.

“Sweetheart! You shouldn’t have.” His hand extended for the treat, and you pulled it out of his grasp while grinning.

“Open your mouth.” You said, giddiness building in your chest, with a desperate attempt to hold back your smile in case he caught onto your plan.

“Wow!” Richie looked to the others with a toothy grin. “All this time you’ve been holding a torch for me, angel? Goddamn.”

He tilted his head, “You know my ex-wife is here, right?”

“Are you going to chicken out because she’s here or are you going to let me feed you this cupcake?” You challenged.

Richie leaned forward, getting to your eyelevel, and you wasted no time whatsoever—you smashed the cupcake into his cheek and only barely hitting the corner of his mouth. The circle of Beef employees that were congregated around you burst in uproarious laughter.

You found Carmy’s laugh, like a frayed thread in a ball of yarn, and held it close to your heart.

“God!” You laughed, tears springing to your eyes at Richie’s shocked expression. “I’ve been dying to do that since the day we met.”

“Oh yeah!?”

Richie wiped some of the frosting and crumbs from his cheek with his fingertips and swiped at your face. You laughed harder and stumbled backward, hitting someone’s chest as Richie smeared icing against your temple, and it caught in the hairs at your scalp.

“it’s actually pretty good though,” He declared while sucking the frosting from his fingers.

You spun, meeting Carmy’s eyes, and realized it was him who you bumped into. Even in the low light, you saw the amusement dancing in his blue eyes, the lines that crinkled around them. Your heart illuminated like a firework, sending phosphorus smoke through your veins.

“Hi.” You couldn’t think of anything more eloquent or witty to say.

“Hey.” He responded softly, “You’ve got—” His fingertips grazed across your temple, dusting away crumbs and icing, and your breath caught inside your chest.

“Yeah, yeah.” You choked out, your mind went haywire at his casual, intimate touch. “Worth it.”

“Hm.” His lips flattened into a thin smile, “Totally.”

The unknown blonde and guy in the sweater vest approached you. You angled your body away from Carmy, forming into a semi-circle, and offered them a neutral smile. Was this Carmy’s date? And if so, who was the guy with her? Maybe the reason Carmy didn’t tell you about the fireworks was because he was bringing someone. Your stomach twisted and you wished you had something to fidget with between your hands.

“Hi, I’m Natalie.” She offered her hand to you.

You were the world’s biggest idiot. It wasn’t his date. It’s his sister.

She gestured to the dorky man next to her, “This is my husband, Pete.”

“Howdy.” Pete said, “Nice to meet you.”

He started babbling about your grandfather, citing magazine articles, and popular restaurants in the area. You rubbed the back of your neck and adjusted the weight of grief on your shoulders. You foolishly thought that no one here would bring up your granddad tonight. You hoped to have a reprieve. Apparently, no such luck existed in the world. You tuned out Pete, listening, instead to snippets of conversation around you: Richie talking to his daughter about Dinosaurs, Syd talking to Tina about mashed potatoes, Ebra explaining to Fak that he doesn’t want to celebrate Forth of July and is only here to see if Richie lights himself on fire.

“Anyway, I guess what I’m really trying to say is that it’s really cool—what you’re doing, I mean.”

You blinked, surprised, “W-what?”

“The bakery.” Pete clarified, albeit sheepishly, “He never tried to do that, right? So, you’re kind of like, trailblazing, huh?” He said while nodding.

“I – yeah? I guess.” The back of your neck tingled. You glanced to Carmy beside you and his smile was light and faintly hidden by his knuckles as he scratched under his nose.

Carmy said, “Hm, he’s right.” The subtle, white glow of camping lanterns softened Carmy’s curls falling across his forehead and painted gentle shadows of his eyelashes across his cheekbones. His golden chain peeked out from the collar of his pristine shirt and your heart somersaulted.

“It’s incredible.” He said with a meaningful look to you. One that made you feel like you were stripped bare, rearranged, and reconfigured like you were a well-loved recipe carved into delicate, coffee-stained paper. All the atoms inside your body electrified and vibrated beneath his stare and your tongue was heavy and wordless between your teeth.

“Alright!” Richie clapped his hands, breaking the moment, “Get comfortable! The show’s about to start.”

“Yes!” Ebra clapped louder, “Yes! Go white boy!”

Carmy and Pete moved away, leaving you alone with Natalie, an opportunity which she took full advantage of.

“I’m glad he has you.” She blurted before you could join the others on the blankets. You stared at her, wide-eyed, before regaining your composure.

“It’s good that he has friends.” She continued, “Even more so that those friends are people outside of work.”

“I am across the street.” You said, in case she didn’t know, or had forgotten. In full view, you could see the similarities between them now. They carried the same shadow of grief below their eyes. Although Natalie’s eyes were softer, and the faint lines on her forehead that suggested she often furrowed her brow. You wondered how the family dynamic played out now that Mikey was gone. Natalie was the eldest, did she feel responsible to Carmy?

“Yeah but,” She shrugged, “That place is a black hole.” She didn’t even try to hide the sadness or the anger from her voice. “And he needs people—good people—to lean on.”

You smiled. “What makes you assume I’m a good person?”

Natalie doesn’t miss a beat. “I know you were the one to call in the favor at the IRS.” She said, “And believe it or not, it takes a lot for us Berzatto’s to let people in, let alone someone like him and…”

She trailed off, her gaze drifting across the lawn to Carmy sitting alone on a blanket, his arms resting on his bended knees. His hair blew softly in the breeze. You clenched your fingers into fists at your side with shameless longing to walk over and card your fingers through it. Even surrounded by laughter and sparklers, Carmy appeared forlorn and pensive, and your chest rattled with sympathy.

“Anyway,” She cleared her throat, “I’m happy we finally had the chance to meet in person.”

You dug at the grass with the toe of your sneaker, “Maybe you’ll see more of me.”

Natalie reached out and squeezed your forearm, “I hope so.” She said with a quick, friendly smile.

She left you to join Pete and you stood in a weird pocket of space, watching the blankets and lawn chairs fill up, your hands numb and quiet at your sides.

Tina tossed a blanket over her sons’ shoulders and kissed his cheek, muttering something in Spanish, and he groaned—embarrassed—in reply. Tiffany sat on a woven, red lawn chair with Eva in her lap. Pete put his arm around Natalie after opening a can of pop for her. Syd draped a blanket over her dad’s lap, talking low and quiet, before laughing at something Marcus said. Fak and Ebra were at the table, still chatting, while scooping condiments onto their hot dogs—their paper plates balanced precariously in hand.

The word came to mind like rainwater to glass: Family.

Your throat tightened and an itching desire to turn and walk away before anything started buried under your skin. With a strange, magnetic force, your gaze pulled to Carmy – sitting alone. You hesitated at the edge of everything and considered your worthiness to sit among them. You took a cautious step forward.

Richie shouted, “Here we go!”

Carmy’s head turned away from the fireworks and toward you. His profile illuminated in a burst of red, hissing light. His large nose, and greasy curls were briefly set alight, washed in crimson like an ambulance siren. An emotion swelled in your chest, too big and too terrifying to name, as the park erupted in loud golden sparkles and a chorus of ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ echoed through the dark, smoky air.

You were at the precipice of cowardice and desire. You could turn, flee into the shadowed park, and tell Richie something came up. Or you could step forward, into the bright unknown, into the messy future.

The world flashed with color and bright, booming sound.

Carmy’s hand twitched, a quick motion that you almost missed in the erratic light of the fireworks, and you realized with a mind-numbing surprise that he was beckoning you. His eyes met yours, honest and expectant.

A firework whistled, arching across the sky like a shooting star, blue and white and lovely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carmy’s heart thundered inside his chest. The distance between you was less than ten steps, but it felt like a hundred miles.

Every firework cast a sudden, colorful radiance to your skin. Your eyes glistened and crinkled softly at the edges, like the pages of a worn cookbook, when you smiled at him. He doesn’t use the word ‘beautiful’ often. But there was no better way to describe you. You were beautiful. His beautiful, ambitious, and achingly wonderful friend.

He only came tonight because Richie mentioned he invited you. Now, he couldn’t help but feel grateful that he did. He wanted to remember this moment forever. He ignored everything else—the laughter, the exclamations of delight, the faint smell of smoke in the air and cars drifting down the street.

There was only you, and him, and the footsteps that separated you. A firework blazed green and blue and the tightness in his chest unraveled as you started walking toward him. He scooted to make room for you on the warm, flannel blanket.

Your shoulder brushed against his, but you didn’t move away. The sky sizzled, smoke trailing like the exhaled breath of a great monster, and you tossed the extra blanket over your bare legs.

You asked, “What truck bed did Richie buy these fireworks from?” During a brief respite of Richie setting up the next round.

Carmy scoffed, “Like he’d tell any of us.”

“Hm. Good point.” Your lips pursed, and he’s never wanted to kiss you more than in this moment. And it’s not just because you slept together in the past. It’s something else. Something newer and scarier and less defined. It would be so easy to incline his head forward and brush his lips against yours.

Carmy tore his eyes away from your mouth before he did something outrageously stupid. He wanted to keep your friendship more than he wanted your affection. He tugged at the edge of the blanket over your legs, adjusting it, so he’d have something to do with his hands.

You said, “I talked to your sister.”

“Oh yeah?” He couldn’t imagine what Sugar would want to talk about after Pete’s weird fanboy moment. Although he could begrudgingly admit that Pete’s admiration of you mirrored his own and he supposed that wasn’t the worst thing to have in common with his brother-in-law. You were amazing. He wanted more people to recognize that, to see you beyond your family, and all the things they accomplished. You deserve to have that.

“She said she was glad we’re friends.”

“Mhm, well, I’m a loser.” He gestured to his chest, “I don’t usually have friends.”

“You have me.” Your voice was soft, and oh-so-gently teasing that his jaw clenched. Yes, he had you. His chest warmed and he peered over at you through heavily lidded eyes. Your front teeth pressed into your lower lip, a tempting sight, and Carmy forced himself to look into your eyes.

He muttered, “Present company obviously excluded.”

A fresh display of brilliant fireworks erupted in the sky, cutting your conversation short, though Carmy only half-heartedly watched them. He kept glancing over to you, seeing your face illumed in a rainbow of colors, brief and gorgeous flashes of pleasure in the relaxed slack to your jaw and the slight widening of your eyes. He savored every second with a subtle, quiet smile affixed to his lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The nerves danced in your heart, walked a tightrope across your stomach, but the curiosity would burn you up from the inside-out if you didn’t ask. You leaned into Carmy, pressing your face into the side of his head to speak into his ear, as fireworks boomed overhead. Their noise was your courage and your protection. No one would overhear this. This question was for him and him alone.

“So, no…girlfriends or boyfriends then?” You asked. You could assume his answer, but you wanted—needed—to know for the sake of the future. For when you were healed enough, and less broken, and less messy and you could ask him out properly and do things that couples do. Your breath quieted inside your lungs as you awaited his answer.

Carmy snorted with laughter, shaking his head, “No way.” He paused, swallowing. “You?”

The sky was silent with tendrils of smoke and scattered stars.

Maybe his answer meant he liked you, maybe his answer meant he didn’t like serious relationships, or maybe it meant nothing more and was simply a statement of a fact. Regardless of what could be read between the lines, hope took root inside your chest, twining around your ribs, and refused to let go.

“Nah.” You shrugged. In the gesture, his warm, solid forearm skimmed across yours and your skin prickled with goosebumps. He was so close, yet he wasn’t close enough.

“But…um…that might change in the future.” You admitted softly. “I mean I hope it does. I’d—I’d like it to.”

You searched his face, watching his clear, blue eyes register with shock and his brow crinkle.

He looked toward Richie in the distance setting up for the finale.

This was your confession, your secret, and you offered it to him on a blanket beneath a sky of ghostly fireworks. It’s not that you wanted a random relationship in the future. You wanted one with him. You twisted your fingers in your lap, knuckles popping, as Carmy’s silence continued for an agonizing amount of seconds.

Carmy nodded, “That’s—that’s good.” He said finally.

You blinked, swallowing your disbelief, and tilted your body away from his. You drew your knees to your chest, arms wrapping around them, and joined everyone in clapping for the final display of fireworks. You could feel Carmy’s eyes on you, but you refused to face him, because you were afraid he might see the hurt and confusion on your face.

You were lost in the enchantment of the moment and lulled into believing that he felt something more for you. Especially after how he looked at you when the fireworks began. You crawled back into the protective shell around your heart. It was better like this, wasn’t it? It was better to be his friend than to be nothing at all.

Richie ran across the grass, cigarette dangling from his lips, and barreled onto your shared blanket with Carmy. He nearly headbutted you in the process. You and Carmy shouted with surprise and annoyance as Richie literally shoved himself between you.

You pushed at his shoulder though it was like pushing stubborn stone, “Richie! Fuck off.”

He groaned, “You have the best seats.” He stretched out and puffed smoke around your head.

“Come on, cousin!” Carmy snapped, “What are you doing?”

“I don’t need you sucking face in front of Eva.” He said before Fak lit the fireworks and all conversation was drowned out through the dazzling lights and sound. You stole the cigarette from Richie’s mouth, ignoring his shout of alarm, and took a fortifying inhale of nicotine. He smoked the same brand as Carmy, and your heart fluttered with the memory of his mouth on yours and tasing like this.

You blew smoke to the stars. You took that fragile, rooted hope in your chest and buried it like a promise. A promise to heal, to grow, and learn from this. You would be the best possible friend to Carmy notwithstanding your romantic feelings. You caught Natalie smiling at you from her spot. You smiled back, hearing her words: ‘I’m glad he has you’ repeated inside your head.

You were glad to have him. You weren’t going to lose him.

“You’re such an asshole.” Richie said, chuckling, when you returned his cigarette back to him.

You smiled. “Takes one to know one.”

Richie squinted, holding the cigarette to his lips, “Hmph. You’re not wrong.”

“She rarely is.” Carmy muttered, casting his gaze heavenward, the smoke from Richie’s cigarette curling around his eyes and obscuring them.

“Cousin, you are so whipped it’s not even funny anymore.”

You and Carmy said, “Shut up, Richie!”

“I rest my fucking case.” Richie stood, flicking ash on the blanket, “G’night, simps. You’re welcome for the whole fucking show. Maybe next time have a little gratitude because otherwise I’m not inviting you to shit. Capisce?”

You rolled your eyes, brushing ash away with your hand. “Dick.” You said once Richie was out of earshot. You caught Carmy’s eyes, “Was he always like this?”

He looked at you questioningly.

“Before…” You let the words hang unsaid in the empty air. Before Mikey.

“Yeah, I – I think so. It was just…” Carmy frowned, “Mikey was always the loud one, you know? Richie’s gotten louder since he’s—he’s been gone.”

You nodded. The voids people left behind are complex and nuanced and hardly straightforward. You only know pieces of Michael through Carmy, and through Richie’s personality, but you have a rough sketch of the eldest Berzatto. You imagined the void Mikey left behind must be massive. Like a black hole, you thought, remembering Natalie’s words again.

You tapped your fingers against the flannel, “Can I ask a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Walk me to the L?” You asked sheepishly as if he might say no.

He swallowed and you allowed yourself to marvel at the muscles of his throat.

Quietly, he said, “Can I walk you home?” His words were so unbelievable that you wonder if they’re a hallucination. “I know your station, but – um – it’s a holiday and people are crazy and—”

“Okay.” You interrupted before you thought better of it and before you could talk yourself out of it.

“Sure, sure, yeah.” You shrugged, wearing easy confidence and nonchalance like glass armor, and hoping your true feelings don’t shine through.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The stairwell creaked beneath your sneakers, and you fiddled with your apartment keys. The L train had been one of the fastest in recent memory. You talked about the day-to-day at the bakery, sharing some of the core moments, like Leslie’s ex-girlfriend ordering a wedding cake. He shared with you a story about Mikey, and Richie, an agricultural goddess known as Ceres and featuring guest star Bill Murray.

You held this story close to your chest and recognized it as precious. Any story with Mikey, in your eyes, was to be treasured because Carmy spoke so rarely about him.

“Here we are.” You unlocked your front door and pushed it inward. “I hope this doesn’t mean you’re going to murder me with one of your fancy chef knives.”

You hadn’t anticipated him following you all the way up here. But he did and a very selfish, quiet part of you wanted him to stay.

You looked back at Carmy. He was leaning his temple against the wooden doorframe and gazing at you with his exhausted yet mournful, pretty eyes. You squashed the desire to touch him. Your keys jingled loudly in your grasp, their cold metal teeth bit into your skin. He looked so fucking tired.

Selfish desire won out against rationality and the question fell from your lips, “Do you need a couch to sleep on?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes, with a soft exhale. “No, no, no. I’m good.”

“Damn.” You clicked your tongue, “I was really looking forward to our first sleepover. We could stay up late talking about boys and I could braid your hair.”

Carmy managed a brief, fragile smile. “Maybe next time.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” You slowly opened your arms, “Goodnight?”

To your immediate surprise and immense relief, Carmy stepped into your embrace. His arms encircled your waist and his face buried into your shoulder. You clung to him, sank into his warmth, and the faint aroma of cigarettes and sweat. Your body hummed with desire for more even with the knowledge that you’d never have it. You wanted to remain here until sunrise. The temptation to beg him to stay wrestled between your teeth and your heart burned with it.

Carmy sighed, his muscles relaxing, his weight leaning into you a little more. You held him with unwavering strength, rooted to the hardwood floor of your entry hallway, and smiled softly against his warm cotton shoulder.

“’m glad I came tonight.” He murmured. “Almost didn’t.”

“Me too.” Your eyes fluttered close, savoring this, savoring him. His sinewy biceps, his solid chest, and his hair tickling your cheek. His grip lessened. He pulled away, fingertips trailing across your hips, an innocent touch that painfully reminded you of decadent ones. You stopped the low whine in your throat.

“Goodnight.”

You held the doorframe, “Get home safe.” You didn’t shut your door until you couldn’t hear his footsteps on the creaky, wooden stairs anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Bonus Author’s Note: Reminder, this fic has the tag “lack of communication” LMAO. But this is our last yearning chapter. Promise. The slow burn is almost done.

#carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear fic #carmen berzatto #carmy x baker #carmy berzatto x you

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cantsaythetword · 11 months

Text

Finding A Motive

~A/N - OK HELLO I AM HERE!

Yes I know I have heaps of prompt fics I should be working on BUT I had to had to HAD TO write something for this post that Happy made about reward tickles cause ITS SO DAMN CUTE and it works perfectly for Jake from b99.

This is also my first ever b99 fic so I hope its good!! I just cannot get the idea of Jake being a massive lee out of my head hehehe.

I also have a v big thing about Gina knowing this about Jake and being super casual about it to the others (but ofc really teasy about it with him) hehehehe.

Also holy fuck this is long so hope you have the time to read it lmao, this might be my longest fic yet! (EDIT: YEP ITS DEFINITELY MY LONGEST YET HOLY SHIT)

(DOUBLE EDIT: I'm also adding a link to this clip cause it's adorable and is 100% Jake's tickle laugh hehehehehehe enjoy)

- Enoy! ~

Tag List: @happyandticklish

Masterpost Link

Amy Santiago was about to face one of the hardest challenges of her career.

Top drug lords, hardened criminals, serial killers - they had nothing on this. This was an impossible task. One that even the greats would never dream of tackling.

The job? Motivating Jake to fill out paperwork.

Considering the fact that a major portion of her job was often figuring out what motivated people (though usually it was what motivated them to kill), you would think this would be relatively easy. However, she knew filing was the absolute bane of his existence - something that would take him days to work up the headspace to even consider starting.

Nothing helped. She had tried every trick in the book. She had bought him some (BEAUTIFUL) new stationery and folders, scheduled time in the briefinf room so he wasn't distracted by noise, broke it into steps, bribed him with food, it was all useless.

It had been weeks, and the papers just kept piling up on his desk with no remorse. To make matters worse, his lack of motivation was starting to affect his mood. His usually cheeky quips marking his arrival towards whoever was listening had died down to nothing more than a nod of acknowledgement when he entered the office. Amy was getting desperate, and so she tried reaching out to the others.

Hitchcock and Scully's input was simply offering to do it for him, which helped ease some of the pressure but completely bypassed the point of the exercise.

Rosa's pure threats only managed to get him to sit down at his desk and stare at the paper for hours.

Terry's sticker reward chart ended up with Jake spending more time choosing what stickers to use than anything else.

And Charles' encouraging words started off strong - but quickly broke off when Jake suggested they take a lunchbreak (and the task was promptly forgotten).

It was beginning to look like all hope was lost, and as the team sat in the break room wondering what on earth to do, Gina Linetti waltzed through the doorway.

"Amy, Amy, Amy..." Gina sighed. "Why would you waste your time asking these guys for help when you have someone who's known Jake since the womb?"

Terry's brow wrinkled in confusion, "You guys aren't twins."

Gina shrugged. "We might as well be."

"You aren't even related." Rosa added.

"Guys?!" Amy interrupted. "Not important."

She turned to look at Gina, who was already walking towards Jake's desk with a confident flair only she could pull off. The group casually followed her out, curious as to what magic she was about to enact to get Jake out of his slump.

Amy watched as Gina leant down next to Jake's ear and whispered.

Somehow that was all it took.

Jake, with his face painted pink, sheepishly grabbed his stack of papers and moved past the group towards the records room without saying a word. It was like magic.

"You're welcome." Gina grinned as she sauntered back to her desk.

Now it was impressive in itself that Gina had managed to get Jake to start working, but it was astounding that he was still working almost an entire week later.

The man had become a paperwork machine, and an extremely effective one at that. The organization rivalled that of Amy's herself, and if she wasn't so awe-struck she might have been a little jealous.

She begged Gina to spill her tactics, but every time Gina responded with a laugh and some clever line around how "A lady never reveals her secrets.". But Amy had to know! She had to find out what was Gina's tactic.

Thankfully, she wouldn't have to wait for long.

It was a sleepy Thursday evening. The precinct was quieter than ever, and Amy was finishing off some last minute research. As she walked past the break room, she caught wind of a very particular sound. A shrieky, medium-pitched giggle that only came from one person doing one thing.

Well, more accurately having one thing done to them.

She peered through the window, and surely enough there was Jake. He was lying across Gina's lap, arms held above his head by one of her hands, legs kicking the couch cushions at the other end. Gina's fingers were going absolutely feral on his stomach, the speed and precision at which they moved was enough to give anyone butterflies just watching.

But it was Jake's face that was the most interesting part. Though it was a deep red and scrunched at every point, it was pulled into what was possibly the biggest smile Amy had ever seen. And nothing about it seemed forced, not even the laughter pouring out of his mouth. No, it seemed like Jake was actually enjoying it.

Well wasn't that cute. Amy laughed to herself at her little discovery. She'd have to try that out later, but for now she had to act natural.

She took a few steps past the doorway, just far enough to hear Jake's giggles subside as the tickling presumably stopped. Amy heard the door open, ducking behind a desk.

"Keep up the good work Jakey." Gina said with a smirk. "Same time tomorrow."

Oh my god.

That was it? Gina's incentive that worked perfectly was tickling? Amy was frozen in disbelief. It was so easy. So simple and yet it never would have crossed her mind.

The next morning, Amy argued back and forth with her own brain about whether to ask Gina about Jake's little quirk. On one hand, the more opportunities for motivating him the better. But on the other hand, perhaps this was something best left for childhood friendships. Should she ask to join in? Or would Jake feel uncomfortable about anyone other than Gina knowing?

There was only one way to find out.

"Hey Gina?" Amy asked nonchalantly, leaning over Gina's desk.

"Ames." Gina cocked her head in friendly acknowledgement. "How can I help?"

Amy took an awkward breath. "So last night..."

"Ahhh you caught me." Gina interrupted with a smile. "That's the best way to get Jake moving."

As if to prove her point, Jake came power-walking past with a stack of binders. Somehow, with the balance of a tightrope walker, he lowered a steaming cup of coffee onto Gina's desk before plowing off again.

Amy gave her a look. "And that's improving his productivity too?"

"Oh no." Gina laughed. "This just reminded me of how I got Jake to be my little helper through middle school."

"Moving on." Amy shook her head. "Do you think Jake would mind if I... knew? ... Or more accurately, if I... joined in?"

"Oh he'd love it." Gina grinned. "He's super fun to tickle, so try not to get carried away. Though he'd probably enjoy that too."

Amy beamed. "You're the best!"

"You know it."

Now it was just a matter of waiting for the right time to strike. And, with Jake's little productivity streak, the perfect opportunity presented itself quite quickly.

Amy spied her target almost immediately. He looked so out of place, sitting there hunched over his desk when everyone else (and usually himself) were out at lunch. The emptiness made for an ideal privacy level without putting any more pressure on the guy.

"You've been working hard recently." She commented.

Jake jolted out of his intense hyper-focused state. "Uh... Yeah. Yeah I've been... uh... On the grind. You know, it's just non stop with me!"

Amy took a moment to maintain her composure. "See I've been wondering what managed to help... Cause we tried everything."

Jake averted his eyes from Amy's gaze.

"So I asked Gina."

Oh that did it. Jake went bright red - almost as red as last night - and he brought his hand up, partially to card his fingers through his hair, and partially to hide his blushing face.

"Why didn't you just tell us?" Amy put her hand on his. "It's the easiest and most adorable solution I've ever heard."

Jake's head was now pressed into his palms. "I was worried you would find it weird."

Amy smiled genuinely. "I mean, it's not the usual route, but it's super cute."

The pair sat for a moment, before Jake broke the silence.

"Do the others know?" He asked, and Amy couldn't tell if it was worry or curiosity in his voice.

"No... Do you want them to?"

Jake hesitated, his mouth twitching into a nervous smile. "I don't know..."

"They won't find it weird either." Amy reassured.

"... I wouldn't mind..."

Amy couldn't help but break into a bright grin.

Later that night, Amy packed away the last of her work. More than ready for the weekend, she exited the bullpen to the sounds of Jake's laughter. Clearly Gina thought he had worked hard this week. And she had to agree, but her reward for him would have to wait.

Monday morning came and went, and Jake somehow still wasn't running out of steam. In fact, Amy had noticed that - since she found out about his little secret - Jake had volunteered to take some of her filing duties. While she would normally be slightly annoyed by this, she knew exactly what he was looking to get out of it. And who was she to deny him?

Once again, lunchtime proved the best chance for a little alone time with her target. As the rest of the force eagerly made their way towards the elevator, Amy inconspicuously followed Jake towards the records room.

As he pushed the door open and stepped through without a second thought, assumedly with the goal of letting it swing shut behind him, Amy slipped inside and cleared her throat.

Jake jumped, almost dropping the stack of manilla folders he was carrying. "Ames?! What are you- I mean, how come you're in here?"

Amy grinned. "Oh I was just hoping to let you know how good of a job you've been doing recently."

Jake blushed, eyes flicking to the floor, then the door, and back to Amy. "Ah... Well, thanks thats... Yep, thanks..."

Amy, barely letting him finish, took a step towards him. "I don't think you quite understand."

Jake's face tensed, his mouth twitching into a nervous smile and Amy could tell he was struggling to contain himself. His arms instinctively pressed against his sides, hands squeezing into fidgeting fists.

"What's wrong Jake?" She teased. "Is this not why you've been stealing my usual paperwork duties?"

Jake couldn't help but let out a singular barking laugh, rubbing the back of his neck (but making sure not to lift his elbow and expose his armpit).

"I'm taking your silence as a confession Jake, is this what you were looking for?" She smiled. Partially to further fluster the poor guy, but also as a subtle way of checking she wasn't taking this too far. Based on Jake's reaction, she was clear for landing.

As Jake stumbled over his words, trying to come up with some answer that wouldn't incriminate him but also wouldn't ruin his chances of getting wrecked, Amy dashed towards him.

And Jake crumbled.

It took only a few seconds of Amy's nimble fingers skittering across his torso before his knees gave out and he slid down the filing cabinet behind him. Amy followed, ending up half-crouched next to his legs, at the perfect angle to attack all up his sides and over his stomach. So that's exactly what she did.

As Jake haphazardly 'attempted' to grab at her hands and push them away, he let out the most precious giggles Amy had ever heard. The sounds of Jake's serotonin filled the room, and Amy was absolutely intoxicated.

While he definitely reacted more as Amy grew closer to his armpits, Amy found herself spending much more time around Jake's lower ribs. Something about that spot, the way the giggles just spilled out of Jake's mouth, the way he leant his head back so carefree, the way his hands gently gripped her wrists but never pushed her away (even though he definitely could). She was completely enamoured.

"You're adorable." Amy murmured before she could catch herself, taking a sharp breath when she realised she had said it out loud.

"Ahehehehames!" Jake laughed, ducking his head in embarrassment.

Grinning in relief that he either hadn't noticed or was too ticklish to care, Amy continued her soft syncopated two-fingered squeezes against Jake's stomach. This was even better than she imagined. And she was fully prepared to continue, until the sound of footsteps thumped outside the door.

Shit, how long had they been in there? The pair locked eyes, all mirth fading from Jake's as he took a much more worried demeanor at the risk of being discovered. Amy glanced at her watch - 1:52pm.

They had been in there for almost an hour? It had felt like 20 minutes... Probably even less to Jake.

Amy stood, offering a hand to Jake who clumsily took it - still a little too giggle drunk to stand on his own.

"I'll let you get back to work." She grinned on her way out.

Jake wasn't the only one who had work to do, as it was officially time for Amy to spread the word. And who better to start with than Terry.

It was such an obvious transition, Amy didn't have to think twice. Of all the people at the 99, he was the best balance of secret keeping without judgement. So as soon as Amy saw him, she pulled him aside into one of the interrogation cells.

"What's the matter?" Terry asked, immediate concern washing over his voice.

Amy pulled a slightly awkward face, perhaps she should have rehearsed this a little before jumping straight in.

Well, no use thinking about it now.

"Nothing's wrong." She began. "It's just about Jake."

Terry relaxed, half-sitting half-leaning against the table. "I've noticed he's been plowing through his work ever since Gina talked to him."

Amy nodded. "I figured out how she did it."

"And?" His eyes widened with intrigue.

She took a breath. "It's... He..."

Terry gave her a look of encouragement.

"Tickling."

There was a pause. And in that moment every cell of Amy's brain screamed into panic mode. Maybe she was wrong about Terry being one to tell? Maybe she was wrong about everyone? Would they all find it weird that Jake liked getting tickled? Would they all find it weird that she liked tickling him? Has she completely ruine-

Terry began to laugh.

Not in a ridiculing way, or even a nervous way. A genuine, entertained laugh.

"What?" Amy said, the panic still bubbling in the back of her throat.

"That is possible the most Jake answer I've ever heard." Terry said. "It makes total sense."

Amy breathed a sigh of relief. "It's definitely very Jake." She admitted with a smile.

"So," Terry cocked an eyebrow. "Have you tried out this method yet?"

Amy blushed slightly. "Uh... well, yes."

"And how did it go?"

After a conversation that lasted much longer than it should have - mostly due to Amy doting on Jake's reactions the whole time - Terry was more than eager to participate.

As the workload slowed growing closer to clock-off time, and the traffic within the compound faded to a trickle, Amy and Terry waited (rather impatiently) at their desks for Jake to return.

It was practically a ghost town, the perfect setup for their little attack, by the time Jake came back to his desk. He locked eyes with Amy, a glint of nervous excitement flickering across his pupils, and sat down. Completely missing the 6 foot 2 figure lurking behind him.

"So Jake." Terry said, having successfully snuck up behind the man. "Amy's just let me in on your little secret."

Jake's face burned, knowing exactly who it was without even turning around. Honestly, with the number of times he had gone red recently it was a miracle his face hadn't permanently stayed that way.

"And I'm keen to find out if what she's said is true." Terry continued, placing his hands on Jake's shoulders.

Jake's mouth squirmed in an anticipatory smile. Amy simply leant back in her chair, ready and eager to watch the show.

With more speed than expected for a man of his stature, Terry skewered his hands under Jake's armpits and lifted. Jake let out a shriek as his legs dangled above the chair he was sitting at moments ago, before descending into laughter as Terry's fingers started worming around his underarms.

It looked like the opening to the Lion King - just with much more laughter from this Simba. Terry conducted his tickling with the skill of a well seasoned Dad - as expected from a man with 3 daughters. Jake was unravelling in front of Amy's eyes, but he still had that huge smile on his face that let her know he was loving every second.

"Aw Jake this is adorable!" Terry cooed, unable to stop himself from dropping the tough guy facade he had put on moments ago.

"Shuhuhut uhuhup!" Jake squealed, his legs thrashing in every possible direction to relieve some of the ticklish torture that Terry was putting him through. "Saharge plehehease!"

"I can't believe I didn't know about this sooner!" Terry teased, beaming a smile in Amy's direction as he lowered Jake closer to himself. Trapping the man against his chest, he snaked his hands around Jake's still wriggling body, swapping what armpit each hand was attacking.

As Terry began to claw at the edge of Jake's pectoral muscles, Jake cackled. His body seized up, before slumping forwards into a pitiful attempt at a protective curl.

Terry's dreaded bear hug had him almost completely spent. Jake's laughter was becoming breathy, and his energetic thrashing had completely faded to the occasional twitch in his limp body when Terry hit a good spot.

"Ok Sarge I think he's had enough..." Amy said with a touch of concern, a soft smile still stuck on her face from watching Jake laugh.

Terry scrunched his face with a frown, obviously not quite finished with Jake yet. But, noticing just how tired the poor guy was, he slowly placed Jake back into his chair. Without a word (aside from the giggles still trickling out of his mouth), Jake folded his arms on the desk and resting his forehead on top.

"Are you alright?" Amy asked with a laugh.

Jake responded with a meek nod of his head. Amy didn't have to see his face to know there was still a bright beam of a smile splitting his cheeks.

Terry softly ruffled Jake's hair for a moment. "That wasn't too far, was it?"

Jake snickered in embarrassment. At Terry's worried face, Amy shook her head with a smile.

"I think that means it was great Sarge." Amy laughed.

Relieved, Terry patted Jake's shoulders. "I'll leave you two to pack up then."

Amy nodded, mouthing a 'Thank You' as Terry backed towards the elevator. He simply nodded, before turning to leave.

Over the next few days, while Amy contemplated who to tell next, she noticed that Jake had picked up some more errands for the Sergeant. And, with Terry being Terry, each time Jake put a paper or file on his desk for him Terry would give him a friendly poke or squeeze in the side and a few teases as an accompaniment. Each time Jake would walk sheepishly away from the desk, but his smile was unmistakable.

But the more public displays of Jake's reward method came with much higher risk of discovery. And of course, the most eagle-eyed member of the force picked up on the change pretty quickly.

On her way to the restroom, Amy noticed Rosa and Terry having quite the one-sided discussion in the briefing room. While initially she wasn't going to interfere, when Terry flashed her a 'help me' look she had no other option.

"Is everything alright?" Amy asked cautiously, moving through the doorway and standing next to Terry.

Rosa looked at Amy for a moment. "Do you have any idea why Sarge has been tickling Jake recentl-?"

"I tried to tell her it was just for fun!" Terry interjected, a slightly panicked look on his face.

Amy laughed. "It's alright, Jake's ok with people knowing."

Rosa raised an eyebrow curiously.

"It's the best way we- well, Gina - found to motivate him." Amy glanced at Terry briefly, who nodded alongside her.

"I thought he was working weirdly well..." Rosa considered for a moment, before giving a small chuckle. "Cute."

Amy and Terry shared another look, this time smiling softly.

Without another word, Rosa walked off with a smirk. Straight over to the man of the hour.

"Jake." Rosa gave him an inverted nod as she stopped next to his desk.

"Diaz, what's up." Jake replied, not looking up from his work.

"Amy told me about your tickling thing."

Jake lurched, caught off guard by the casualness of Rosa just announcing it. He struggled to get words out, some way to explain himself.

"It's fine you know." She grinned. "It's cute."

Jake blushed even more, bashfully scratching the back of his head.

"So." She continued, holding out a thin binder. "Reckon you could finish off this patrol report for me?"

Without meeting her eyeline, Jake nodded and took it from her hand.

"Thanks." She smirked, running her fingernails up the back of his neck a few times as she walked away.

Jake's shoulders twitched before relaxing into the sensations. As he began to read through the documents, a hand shielding his eyes from any onlookers, his mouth curled into a shy smile.

This continued over the course of the day. Rosa would hand Jake something to fill out or give him a task to do, and gently tickle the back of his neck each time. While Amy first assumed Jake would be disappointed by the lack of stimulation, she quickly realized he was almost glad of Rosa's near incognito method of delivery. Amongst Amy's, Terry's and Gina's exhausting sessions of what most would consider tickle torture, Rosa's soft scratches during team meetings or brief skitters as they crossed paths in the hall seemed to bring a sense of normalcy and casualness to the whole process. And those little ticklish appetizers seemed to keep Jake engaged and on task throughout the day between bouts of playful attacks from the others.

It was the perfect system. And though there was an element of 'if it ain't broke don't fix it', Amy knew the others would probably find out eventually. So better for her to fill them in, especially Charles.

"Why has Jake never told me?!" Charles exclaimed when Amy finally broke the news to him over a food truck hamburger.

"Well..." Amy grinded her teeth for a moment, looking for the best way to explain herself (or more accurately, explain Jake). "He's a little embarrassed about the whole thing, he didn't tell anyone about it himself."

"Who else knows?"

"Uh." Amy froze. "Only me, Gina, Rosa and... Terry..."

Charles scoffed indignantly. "So almost everyone else except for me."

"This is about Jake ok!" Amy interrupted, giving him a stern look.

And clearly it worked, as Charles calmed himself almost immediately.

"Of course." He said quietly.

"So." Amy continued. "If you see him working feel free to tickle the crap out of him OK?"

Charles grinned. "Oh I look forward to it."

With the newly accepted fact of both Jake's ticklishness, and his affinity towards it, Charles had a ridiculously easy time picking his moment of attack.

Jake had just finished his first coffee of the day, and was about to begin making his second when Charles approached him.

"We have to talk." Charles stated, using every ounce of self control to keep a stern face for his master plan.

Jake turned, worry reeling through his mind. "Yeah, of course man."

Charles gestured out of the kitchen and towards the break room. Jake naively followed, unaware of what was about to go down.

The second the door closed behind them, Charles tackled Jake onto the floor.

"Charles?!" He shrieked as the pair fell to the ground, Jake lying face down and Charles on top of him.

Without another word, Charles dug into his best friend's hips. The reaction he got was more than he ever expected.

"WAHAHAHAIT!" Jake cackled, thrashing awkwardly from side to side while trying to bring his hands down to pull Charles' off.

"How come you never told me?!" Charles interrogated, squeezing his way up Jake's sides and back down to those awfully ticklish hip bones.

"CHAHAHARLES PLEHEHEASE!"

"After all our years of friendship..." He continued, sitting more upright and attacking the muscle on Jake's back - just behind his ribs.

The poor man squealed in response, legs bouncing on the floor behind them.

"Did it all mean nothing?" The overly dramatic flair in Charles' voice soaked his words in playful sarcasm.

"CHAHAHARLES!" Jake begged, half managing to roll on his side until his attacker clawed at his belly enough to make him twist face down again.

"The betrayal!"

"I'M SOHORRY!"

Charles grinned. "How can i take this apology seriously when youre laughing?!"

At that, Jake's hands went from trying to fend off the tickling to hiding his poor face. "CHAHARLES PLEHEHEASE!"

"No can do jakey!" He tutted, but decided to have a little mercy on his poor friend. He slowed his fingers to a soft spider walk - just enough to keep Jake laughing but allowing the man to catch his breath.

"Chaharles... I... Please..." Jake giggled out, still not showing his face. "Lemme gohoho..."

"Nuh uh." Charles shook his head, not that Jake could see that. "You've been working far too hard this week for me to let you go that easily!"

Jake let out a giggly groan. "Nohohot youhou tohohoo!"

"What? You want me to stop?" Charles asked, a cheeky smirk across his face.

As his hands came to a stop, he watched the cogs in Jake's brain turn. Would he admit out loud that he wanted more? Or would he cave to his embarrassed state and stop the fun? Charles mentally crossed his fingers that he had made the right choice.

"fne..." Jake mumbled into the floor.

"What was that Jakey? I couldn't hear you?" Charles teased, pushing every button he could to get more of a reaction from Jake. God it was fun flustering his friend.

"... i said fine..." He repeated.

Charles couldn't help but let out a titter. "Still got nothing Jake."

"Chaaarles..." Jake groaned again, still covering his face (which Charles could only assume was the colour of tomato soup).

"Jaaaaaake." He mimicked. "Come on buddy, do you want to keep going?"

Jake shuffled a little under Charles weight, before nodding his head.

Charles let out a gasp of happiness, before clawing into the muscles on Jake's back.

"ACK WAHAHAIT!" Jake arched backwards, before crashing down against the floor again. He squirmed helplessly as Charles conducted the most pointy, ticklish massage he had ever endured.

Poor Jake was stuck at Charles' mercy for at least 30 minutes, before the detective finally released him. He flipped over and lay there on his back, gasping for air on the ground.

"So how was that?" Charles asked, elongating the last word in an unbearably teasy tone.

"Screhew you Chaharles." Jake grinned, covering his eyes with his forearms.

"Love you too buddy."

Life at the precinct had never been smoother. Hitchcock and Scully had the excellent idea to log Jake's work into a group-wide 'tickle tally chart' (Terry's prototype name that ended up sticking), which only prompted more work from the now unstoppable detective.

While the major displays of rewarding Jake's efforts were left to the more private hours of the work week, the building was more than familiar with the occasional shriek or giggle fit if someone had the opportunity to thank Jake in passing.

And, his closest friends definitely didn't shy away from teasing the poor man every chance they got - and, to be quite honest, Jake absolutely soaked up the attention.

"Ey look who's here!" Gina announced as Jake waltzed into the bullpen.

"Coffee for m'lady." He bowed, before handing Gina her starbucks cup. "And a donut for ma boy."

Charles gave a generous smile before eagerly tucking in.

"Damn." Rosa chuckled. "Really racking up those points today, huh Peralta."

Jake's mouth moved but no solid words came out, his confident swagger fading quickly.

"Now that you mention it, who is on jake duty today?" Gina blinked, looking around the room.

"Ginaaa!" Jake whined.

Terry grinned. "That would be me."

"You guys are so mean!"

"Oh Jake?" Amy asked genuinely, breaking the teasing tension that had been rising. "Don't forget you need to book your dentist appointment today."

Jake gave her a puzzled look, a little relieved she wasn't going to continue his torment but also a little disappointed. "How do you know about that?"

Amy rolled her eyes and gestured to his desk. "For the first time in your life you're actually using your desk calendar?"

"Oh... Thanks..." Jake muttered, moving towards his seat.

Amy tilted her head towards him. "So...?"

Jake groaned. "I have to do it now?"

"You do if you want tickles." Rosa smirked from behind him.

Caught off guard again, Jake spluttered out some semblance of an attempt at a sentence, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. The team's coos and teases about Jake's immediate reaction drove him to seek refuge in the copy room (plus some peace and quiet wasn't the worst thing for a phone call).

As he made his escape, Jake popped his head into Holt's office on his way through. He might as well check in and see if he was needed for anything before making his call.

"Anything I can do for you Captain?" Jake asked, leaning against the doorframe. Helpfulness seemed to be his default state these days, and who could blame him? He was hooked on the reward it seemed to get him, and it definitely helped to keep work flowing smoothly.

"You know Peralta," Holt began, folding his hands on the desk.

Jake tilted his chin up in acknowledgment, ready to accept whatever job he would be given.

"If you want to be tickled you can just ask."

#fic #mine #b99 #brooklyn 99 #jake peralta #brooklyn 99 tickle fic #jake peralta tickle fic #also not saying that this tactic would totally work for me but it would TOTALLY WORK FOR ME-#p.s. extra fic commentary: i am v v happy about the title of this fic hehehehehe i think its funny

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galactic-academia · 4 months

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Love One Another (As I Have Loved You)

Continuation to Finding God and Divine Wrath

Rating: M; minors, pass your way.

Category: F/M

Fandom: The Young Pope

Relationship: Lenny Belardo x F!Reader

Tags: language, sexy times drowned into metaphors, angst, unrequited (?) love, Chrismas mass, Reader smokes cigaret and has hair long enough to get pulled; TW: rejection, loneliness. Read as "The author chose not to warn for content, or Archive Warnings could apply, but the author has chosen not to specify them" on AO3. Don't hesitate to message me to get more informations if you want to read this story but don't feel like starting it without full warnings.

Words: 873

Notes: Set before Lenny became pope, but after he became Cardinal and the Archbishop of New York. Don't blame me, blame the Noots (don't, for I love my Noots).

Masterpost | Ask | Guidelines |

This is ridiculous.

You and Lenny… It has always been complicated. You’re both piggy-headed and have far too much pride for anything between the two of you being a bed of roses, even without considering his situation. But this outdoes all the shit you’ve come through.

There, on a Christmas day, you’re chain-smoking on your couch while glaring at your TV. Monseigneur Belardo is celebrating mass into St Patrick’s Cathedral before thousands of believers, since the whole affair is broadcasted on TV. And truly, this is ridiculous.

He’s been babbling for almost an hour now, about love, and peace, and forgiveness and you would laugh your heart out if you weren’t so goddamn mad. Please, Lenny Belardo doesn’t know shit about peace and has never practiced forgiveness. As for love… He shouldn’t be authorized to even spell the fucking word.

The first time you fucked Lenny, long before he became the a Cardinal and the Archbishop of New York, it wasn’t about love. Transgression, yes; sacrilege, certainly; but “love” was never mentioned. But when he cupped your hips in his large, almost trembling hands to receive the bestowal of your body like he would hold the chalice with the wine become blood of Christ; when he came to your altar as often - in not more - as he went to Jesus’ one, maybe it didn’t need to be told? Maybe Lenny didn’t need words and labels to love you.

What a fool you have been.

When Lenny’s been called to a “higher destiny” than the one he had in your humble city, you followed him. No question asked. You left your job and you sold your house and you came to New-York, ready for a new life, and you weren’t afraid, for Lenny was with you. Should have been with you.

But you wouldn’t believe what a fucking cardinal has to do. Meetings, business trips, phone calls to one end of the world and then the other. Masses, benedictions, public appearances, preachings… Maybe he has some time to pray, while he’s brushing his teeth…

He didn’t have time for you, and his secretary was beginning to be rude with you; when she hung up on you after one too many calls to his office, you lost it. You went to his place and cried for him until the security came and tried to make you leave and Lenny stopped them. For the first time in weeks, he finally was before you.

You weren’t prepared to get sermonized.

“This is my life, now”, he has said, “I’m a servant of God and I must honor Him”.

And it hurts you to think back about it now, the tears in your eyes and the tremor in your voice when you told him “I thought you loved me”. What a stupid thing to say in the first place…

“I only love God.”

Now, it seems laughable how, the closer to God he thinks to get, the more his heart desiccates. It didn’t make you laugh, then.

To see him spout all that nonsense in front of an adoring audience, it riles you up. You can feel it simmer low in your belly. Isn’t he pretty, that bastard, all in white; an albino peacock doing a cartwheel in front of its court. And that smile… You’ll never get tired of that smile. It calls troubles, fun troubles; a bratty behavior met with a few, powerful slaps and a punishing pace. You can almost still feel his hand pulling on your hair.

Fuck, you liked it when he lost control over himself and get a little rough with you. You suspect he came harder when he could see tears rolling down your cheeks.

As the choir ends and Lenny comes back to his pulpit, opening his arms and making his voice vibrate through the cathedral, you can’t help but rub your thighs together. It’s been too long. And why not, after all? Isn’t Christmas about love? It would be relevant, for once, giving yourself some love on Christmas day, yeah? So you drown out Lenny’s soliloquy - the man has always been his better audience, anyway - and let your fingers play another anthem; your eyes never leaving his angelic face.

You push yourself over the edge quickly, never better served than by yourself, yeah? Well… It’s efficient, at least. In a haze you see the assembly get up and turn to each other to shake hands, kiss on the cheeks - sometimes both - and Lenny stays there, petrified. Alone, standing high in a storm of people bending toward each other, let in peace to witness his fellow human beings show affection to one another. Just as he asked them to.

And, once again, you would laugh - if you couldn’t feel your heart shattering into your chest. He looks both so majestic and lonely in the center of that magnificent cathedral, surrounded by those ethereal lights. You miss him.

Not five minutes after the end of the Service, as you’re still breathing a little hard, your phone lights up and starts to vibrate. You shouldn’t pick up, not after the crap he dumped on you.

You shouldn’t pick it up.

You shoul-

Back to The Young Pope Masterlist

#jude law #the young pope #the young pope fanfiction #lenny belardo #lenny belardo x reader #the new pope #the new pope fanfiction #priest kink

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dronarryfest · 1 year

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Dronarry Fest Week 4 (Final Week) Masterpost!

And that's a wrap, folks! In week four of Dronarry Fest, we reminisced over nights of passion, explored cursed magical houses, baked together in Malfoy Manor, and discovered our soulmates, our latent Veela heritage, and our bisexual tendencies. This year's fest might be over (boo) but we certainly went out with a bang, so make yourself comfy and get stuck in to this fantastic selection of fics. Please make sure you mind the tags, and don't forget to leave a kudos or a comment for our wonderful MAs!

The anonymous masterpost will go up later today, and author/artist reveals will be on Wednesday!!!

[FIC] Try as I might, I could not bring myself to hold you || T || 6.7k

"Happy birthday, myself" writes little Harry on his knee, on his ninth birthday. "Happy birthday, you" answers little Draco on the other, just a few minutes after. "They're bound to die a tragic death" says Molly Weasley, to nine year old Ron, the next morning. CW: mentions of transphobia

Your storytelling is beautiful, I’m hooked on this premise and these reimagined characters! - Schmem_14

This was such a unique, well-crafted look at how complex yet loving relationships could develop between all of these characters. Thank you for sharing! Always fun to see Dudley included! - oknowkiss

[FIC] The Sun, Shining Above You || E || 14.5k

Since joining up with the dragontamers, Draco counts his days in nights. Nights spent drinking in the commune mess, making poor choices he doesn't regret, for once. Nights he doesn't remember, and nights he wishes he could stop remembering. Then there's that night in Spain, caught in the circle of Ron's arms. A year of nights in Norway, caught in the heat of Harry's gaze. His first night at the Burrow, caught in between them both. CW: references to depression and grief, open/ambiguous ending

Omg this is like… if this fic was a person I would marry them. It’s perfect! - Vawobe

Amazing amazing fabulous magnificent. A triumph. - Maesterchill

[FIC] Let Be, Let Be || M || 10k

Ron's never had a place to really call his own, so when the deeds to an ancient magical house in Bulgaria appear in his Gringotts vault, he ropes in his Curse-Breaker best friend (and his Curse-Breaker best friend's Field Healer boyfriend) to come and check the place out with him. What he doesn't expect is wanton destruction, a Veela transformation, and the need for some serious conversations between friends.

And whoever said Draco Malfoy was bad at sharing?! CW: jealousy, opening up an established relationship

Oh my goddddd. Ron being the veela! The house inheritance! The descriptions of Ron's wings! Harry liking both of them being jealous and possessive about him! This was really fun and such a delight. I'm so happy for them! -TheGoblinMatriarch

Help me Jesus, phwoar - Moonflower_Rose

[FIC] Bad Company || E || 86.5k

Draco has a hard time coming to terms with the world after the war. Stuck on house arrest in a rapidly dilapidated Malfoy Manor, he's more alone than ever before. If only his parole officer wasn't Auror Weasley, not to mention the increasing pile of unread Owls from one Harry Potter... CW: suicide of a minor character, infidelity

i just finished this story in one go and this was just so good... you could see the relationship grow, you could feel the bitterness melting, you could feel all the love - simarjotkour

i love your story so far. It’s the perfect storm of angst! - Schmem_14

#dronarryfest23 #dronarry #draco/ron/harry #dron #drarry #ronarry #rarry

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ghostofaboy · 4 months

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Rock Bottom - Group Activity

Summary: Frankie is spiraling after Tom’s death. Drugs lead to some unhealthy friendships, and too ashamed to reach out to his former teammates for help, Frankie is drawn into a world he’s afraid he can’t get out of.

Tilly wants to show Frankie one of the videos he collected from Gavin.

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morale/Original Male Characters Rating: Explicit. Serious over 18s only Word count: 2382 Chapter: 23/?

Warnings: Dubious consent, group sex, gangbang, anal sex, mentions of past drug use, double anal penetration

Note: This is a fic with gay and bi characters. Please make sure you read the tags/warnings. Header by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Part 22 / Part 1 / Masterpost

As the weeks turned into months, Frankie’s new reality slowly took shape. Having finished his notice at Malcolm’s repair shop, Frankie was now working full time for Tilly. While that mostly meant days spent in the garage tending to the classic cars or services some of Tilly’s regular vehicles, Frankie was now providing his other service more regularly as well.

Almost every weekend was spent at Tilly’s now. Usually just the Saturday, where Tilly would fuck him for a while before they both got on with the rest of their weekend. However, there was the odd time Tilly wanted him Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Those were usually for the more intense sessions, where Tilly would spend hours opening Frankie’s ass up to take a massive dildo or a fist. Thankfully, whenever one of those weekends was on the horizon, Tilly gave Frankie plenty of notice.

Things with Tyler were going well, and Frankie looked forward to precious moments with his young boyfriend. On the weekends he wasn’t with Tilly, Frankie would go to Tyler’s where they would spend every hour wrapped up together. Sometimes Frankie would help Tyler set up for a shoot, but more often than not they’d spend their time with one of them balls deep in the other. Sex with Tyler was always fun, filled with laughter and kisses; the complete opposite of sex with Tilly.

Then there was rehab, which Frankie was due to start soon. The program Will had found for him had sent him a pack through, detailing when and where he would be expected to attend each week. Finally, things with Benny seemed normal again. They had hung out a couple of times, with Will there, but Benny hadn’t brought up anything that Frankie had told him. Frankie was honestly grateful for that. As far as he was concerned, Benny already knew too much about his shameful bullshit. But, all in all, life looked pretty stable; from the outside.

Internally, Frankie was as anxious as ever. He knew, logically, Tilly was not a good person. Although he’d never seen any evidence of that himself, with Tilly treating him with care and affection, Frankie knew that this was not a man to cross. But for now, Frankie had to play the game. He had to open his legs on command and deal with it. At least until he could put together a plan.

After tidying his tools away, Frankie made his way into the main house at Tilly’s estate. His stomach growled quietly, eager for his lunch, as Frankie ducked into the downstairs bathroom to wash the oil and grime from his hands. He had kept meaning to ask Tilly if he could get a sink put in the garage, but so far the request had slipped his mind.

Drying his hands, Frankie opened the bathroom door and was about to return to the garage when he heard someone in the kitchen. Pausing for a moment to listen, Frankie strained to hear who was speaking. Tilly was meant to be at his office until five, but the more Frankie heard, the more he was sure it was Tilly.

As the voice got louder, Frankie wasn’t sure whether to stay and listen or leave as it became obvious that it was Tilly and that he was talking about Frankie.

“...you’d love him. Fantastic ass. Yeah? I mean, I can only ask.” Tilly gave a hearty laugh. “I don’t own the guy. Look, I’ll ask then if it’s a go I’ll set everything up. Ok, yeah. Ok. I gotta go. Talk to you later, Ian.”

Frankie could hear Tilly coming out of the kitchen and quickly dipped back into the bathroom. He could hear Tilly’s footstep pass the bathroom and the door to Tilly home office open. After a few seconds, Frankie didn’t hear the door close, so taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped out.

“Frankie?” Tilly called out immediately. His cheerful voice ringing out from the other room, the sound of it making Frankie’s cock react instantly.

“Hey.” Frankie ducked into the office to find Tilly stood by the window looking out onto the back garden. “I didn’t know you were home.”

“Yeah.” Tilly smiled, shrugging as he closed the gap between them. “Wasn’t in the mood to stay cooped up in the office. Besides, I wanted to see you, although I was going to wait until you’d finished today.”

“Oh? What’s up?” Frankie could feel his cock hardening and his face started to heat up. As much as he hated to admit it, he loved the effect Tilly had on his dick.

“I wanted to give you an update on the videos young Gavin took of you.” Tilly reached out, stroking along Frankie’s jaw as he spoke, his eyes drifting down his body. “I’ve had him tracking them all down. He’s been giving them to me, and yesterday he assured me that he’s found them all.”

“How many were there?” Frankie murmured as Tilly’s hand crept down his torso.

“A lot.” Tilly grinned as he cupped Frankie through his jeans, his thumb running along the length of his erection. “Most were of you and him, pretty run-of-the-mill stuff. You know, lots of oral, anal, and many, many close-ups of Gavin’s own cock. But there were a few of you with others. Would you like to see some of them?”

Frankie’s eyes snapped to Tilly’s as his heart jumped into his throat. “You have them here?”

“Of course Frankie.” Tilly locked eyes with him as he started to unfasten Frankie’s jeans. “I have to keep them safe. Can’t have them floating around out there for just anyone to watch. Why don’t you take your clothes off while I pick out something for us to watch?”

Frankie’s hands moved on their own, pulling off his clothes as Tilly keyed in the code to his safe and pulled out an external hard drive. Tilly went and sat at his desk, connecting the drive to his computer as Frankie removed the last of his clothes. His cock was achingly hard, longing to be touched, but Frankie waited patiently until Tilly was ready.

“There.” Tilly smiled, pulling open his own trousers to expose his twitching girthy dick. “Almost ready, bend over for me, Frankie.”

Frankie moved closer, leaning over the desk and spreading his legs as wide as he could. He could hear Tilly opening and closing a drawer. Frankie knew what was in that drawer, this wasnt the first time he’d been bent over this desk. Sure enough, the familiar sound of the click of cap could be heard before Tilly’s lubricated fingers entered him slowly.

Frankie let out a soft gasp as what felt like two of Tilly thick fingers plunged into his ass and began pumping. Frankie didn’t need to be prepped too much, but he knew Tilly loved to watch anything in his ass. Dildos, plugs, fingers were all regularly inserted into him, along with a few unusual things from time to time. A beer bottle, a candle and a cucumber had also been used on him over some of the more intensive weekends at Tilly’s.

After fingering Frankie for a few minutes, Tilly tapped him on the ass cheek. That was Frankie’s signal to move, to come and sit on his cock. Swinging his leg over Tilly’s knees, Frankie positioned himself, allowing Tilly to ready his dick before guiding Frankie down onto it. Inch by inch, Tilly filled him until Frankie was fully seated on Tilly and his back flush against Tilly’s chest.

“Are you ready?” Tilly reached forward towards his keyboard, shifting inside Frankie as he did, pulling a moan from both of them. “I picked one of my favorites.”

“Ready.” Frankie growled, his eyes moving to the monitor in front of them.

The video began as soon as Tilly pressed enter, filling the screen with what looked like a frat party. Groups of half naked young men were laughing and drinking while sucking each other off as the camera wandered through the party. Two large jocks were spit roasting a skinny blond guy on the dirty carpet, making the cameraman laugh, and Frankie recognized the voice: Gavin.

As Gavin continued on, the camera started to focus on a larger group in the kitchen, stood in a circle around a figure on the floor. Frankie’s heart started to pound in his ears, and his cock throbbed as he realized who he was looking at. As Tilly bucked up gently, urging Frankie to move, Frankie watched as his own naked form came into view on the screen. Past Frankie was on all fours getting fucked by a sweat covered frat boy, surrounded by about eight or nine others all in various states of undress masturbating furiously over him.

From of the look of him Past Frankie had already been fucked several times that night. Come spattered his face and body as he gasped, moaned and laughed. The guy fucking him finished, pulling out and Gavin zoomed the camera in on Past Frankie’s gaping ass. The crowd cheered as Past Frankie pushed a thick load of come out of his ruined asshole, laughing as it dripped onto his balls before pooling on the floor.

“Look at you.” Tilly whispered in his ear, reaching up to play with Frankie’s nipples. “You know how many I’ve watched this? You look fucking amazing and we’re not even at the best part.”

Frankie rolled his hips, relishing the growing heat inside him as he watched frat boy after frat boy fuck him in the video. The sound of skin against skin almost drowned out the sounds of moaning on the screen as Frankie rode Tilly. His cock bounced, gently tapping his stomach as Frankie let Tilly split him open while Past Frankie was spit roasted on the grimy frat house tiles.

The screen went black for a moment before flickering back to life, this time in a bedroom. Frankie felt Tilly’s breathing start to pick up as his hands went to Frankie’s hips. This must be his favorite part, but all Frankie could see right now was Gavin switching the camera between his own face and a very young looking student blowing him.

Tilly was thrusting up into Frankie now, his fingers gripping his hips as Frankie tried to focus through the intoxicating feeling spreading through his body. He wanted to watch the rest of the video, he needed to see what he used to do. He had no memory of this night, but it looked like he enjoyed himself, judging by the grinning and laughing.

Tilly was getting close to finishing and Frankie knew it, as he frantically fucked up into Frankie. Keeping his eyes glued to the screen, Frankie couldn’t stop himself from letting out a gasp as Past Frankie finally came into focus.

Gangbanged. Frankie remembered Gavin saying something about letting a bunch of frat boys gangbang him. Hearing it had been one thing but seeing it here in front of him was something else.

Past Frankie was sandwiched between two guys on his back, both their dicks stretching his wrecked asshole, with his head hanging backwards. Three more guys were taking turns fucking his throat while he held a cock in each hand. In total, seven guys were fucking Past Frankie at once, with more watching over their shoulders. His body was stained with come, with clumps in his hair and mustache. His legs were held open, displaying his hard cock bouncing with each thrust of the men as his body was used for all to see.

With a loud, strangled cry, Frankie came, shooting thick ropes over Tilly’s desk and monitor. His vision swam for a moment as the shockwaves overtook him, before Frankie slumped back, leaning against Tilly as he tried to catch his breath. Behind him, he heard Tilly let out a low, throaty groan and could feel the hot seed filling his ass.

For a few moments they sat there breathing heavily with nothing filling the silence except the obscene moans coming from the video still playing in the monitor. The frat boys were switching places, moving around Past Frankie, shifting him as they needed, before filling him with their cocks.

“I’m so glad you enjoyed watching it as much as me.” Tilly purred into his ear, leaning forward to hit pause. The still close up of Past Frankie’s hole stuffed with two cocks filled the wide monitor. “I love this one. Love watching take all that dick.”

“Fuck.” Frankie panted out, slowly standing up, feeling Tilly’s shaft leaving his ass. “I don’t remember any of that. But…” He trailed off as he rounded the desk, looking out towards the window.

“But you found it a turn on?” Tilly stood up, not bothering to tuck himself away. “Would you want to do something like that again? When you’re sober, so you can remember?”

“I don’t know.” Frankie murmured, looking out over the garden. He could feel Tilly come up behind him and push a finger into Frankie’s come filled ass. Arching his back, Frankie let out a soft moan. His cock was hanging limply, but he knew that wouldn’t stop Tilly and his libido.

“I have some friends. I’ve told them a little about you, nothing that could identify you, of course.” Tilly pushed in a second finger, pushing some of the come inside Frankie’s hole out. “We could have a little party. It’d be a better fuck than drunk frat boys.”

“I mean…” Frankie couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward, giving Tilly better access, resting his arms and forehead against the cool glass of the window. “It was… hot… sexy… I looked like I was having fun.”

“You were.” Tilly cooed, and Frankie could feel a third finger being pumped into him, pushing more come out to run down his leg. “I’ve watched everything Gavin has given me. You always look like you’re having the time of your life. It would be me and four friends. Nothing would be recorded.”

“I’ll… I’ll think about it.” Frankie stammered as Tilly removed his sticky fingers.

“That’s all I ask.” Tilly grabbed Frankie hip, turning Frankie to face him. “Now, come on upstairs. I’m ready for something a little more substantial.”

#frankie morales #frankie 'catfish' morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #triple frontier #francisco morales #frankie morales x male character #rock bottom fic #friends of juice collective

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hitori-alouette · 1 year

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Story Title: The Calendar

Author: HCMichele

Artist: @hitori-alouette

Rating: Teen and Up

Tags/Warnings: AU - Modern Setting, Kid Fic, Librarian Castiel, Firefighter Dean Winchester, Single Parent Dean Winchester, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together.

Summary:

When one looks at Castiel Novak, the director of the Kansas State Library, they don’t expect that shy, reserved guy to hang pictures of half-naked men in his office. Except that he does. And it’s not just any men. It’s Dean Winchester, the hottest firefighter (the irony wasn’t lost on him) to ever pose for steamy Calendar shots, and the only thing that gets him through the daily hardships of his job. It would be truly a terrible thing if Castiel’s favorite child in the children’s reading sessions at the library, who’s also Dean’s six year old son, somehow saw that.

Art Masterpost

Fic on AO3

#destiel #BottomCasReverseBang #supernatural #bcrb 2022 #fic post

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bonniebird · 2 years

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Tommy x Reader

Requested by @multifandomwriter56

Masterpost

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You waited in the small pub just outside of Small Heath. There had been gunfire and shouting. Men running back and forth. No word had been sent by Tommy but you still followed through with his plan to meet you at the train station.

“This is ridiculous. We should go back to London.” You sister chastised. She had come along to meet the family you had married into. The rest of your family disapproved and wouldn't come. By the way she was acting you assumed she had only come along to voice her disapproval in person.

“It’ll all be fine. It always is. He has a way of being fine.” You said calmly as you sipped your drink. You had been served at the table you chose, the crowd around the bar had been abandoned by the bartender who rushed to serve a Shelby lest something terrible happened in the pub.

"He's like a cockroach. Always survives." Your sister said with a touch of irritation. She had put her handkerchief down on her seat before sitting. She pulled another from her bag to clean the glass she was served and then set her bag on her lap where she clutched it. You had someone at the train station take the bags and keep them locked in the office so that someone could be sent to fetch them later, they of course agreed, your sister complained and insisted that you would be robbed. You felt there would be no point explaining no one would rob a Shelby.

“I’ll ignore that.” You muttered as you sipped at your drink. She scoffed, refusing to touch the drink beyond cleaning the glass. Both of you turned to the door when someone stepped in and the pub fell silent. “Tommy!” Getting up you hurried over to him. He was tucking his gun under his jaket. He embraced you as you reached him and looked over your shoulder to your sister who was giving him her hardest stare.

“The man who shot at me looked more friendly than you sister.” Tommy muttered.

“Be grateful she is the only one who came. There is fury over the secret wedding we invited them to, which they all refused to come to. They tried to introduce me to someone when I was up there. They’ve been informed I will not be going back until we have an apology. I think she came back with me to convince me to go back to my parents home.” You filled Tommy in. He chuckled and nodded as he listened, you had warned him that something like that had happened. He and his brothers had taken bets on the whole ordeal.

“I think I'd rather take on another gun man.” Tommy said but smiled as he approached your sister. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

“I imagine it is.” She answered curtly. Looking to you, she added. “Will we be getting out of this place?”

“Of course. I just need to make a phone call.” You excused yourself and left the two of them together as you asked the bartender for the phone. Dialling for Ada you informed her that your sister was behaving the exact way you had assumed and that she should go ahead and give Polly the ok for her plan to dazzle your sister with lavish decorations, food and company. Ada laughed as she hung up. When you made your way back to them you found Tommy and your sister stood in awkward silence.

Tommy Tag:

@lisainhell @spiderwebs-blog @gryffindorqueensworld @rockyrascal @twerp8999 @bluebear142077 @big-galaxy-chaos @greekktragedyy @ietss @alexxavicry @daughterofthenight117 @captivatedbycillianmurphy @sarcasm-n-insomnia @skylermoyer @favmeyou @kaylantus @skinny-bitch-juice @supernatural-wolfie @why-am-I-here-01 @alwaysadreamingoptimist @lyarr24 @love1deandra @archaeologydigit @im-eating-rn @bucketbunny @multifandomwriter56 @littlefreakingfangirl @thebookisbtr @gillybear17 @lchufflepuffcorn @dontjudgeabookbythecover

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #bonniebird

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belmottetower · 2 years

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Bel's AUgust Challenge — Masterpost

Yesterday was the last day of The Ted Lasso AU-gust Challenge (@ted-lasso-au-gust) and I wanted to share a masterpost of all the fics I wrote for this.

You can find them all in my AUgust Challenge series on AO3 as well the main AUgust Challenge collection along with all the other contributions, but below is a list of links to every one with a brief description and approximate word count.

I did 31 fills in total, because in a moment of madness I decided I was going to do a fic a day for every single prompt.

It was a choice, it was a bad one, but it’s done now. The current word count for the series is almost 76,000, but this will go up because three of the fills are multi-chapter with only the first chapter posted so far.

There’s a pretty varied range of pairings and ratings and characters focused on, hopefully there’ll be something here for everyone.

Regarding the basic tagging here — fics marked Canon Universe obviously may involve tropes like soulbonds, de-aging, time loops, elements that make them a Magical Realism AU rather than literally Canonverse. But you know what I mean. Also, the two marked Roy/Keeley + Jamie as opposed to Gen are pre-poly, where the vibe is definitely charged and would end up there down the line, but the story here isn't really about that.

Please do tell me what your favourites were - I would love to know!

#1 Tattoo/Florist: alstroemeria aurea (2k)

Roy’s an introverted florist, Jamie’s a tattoo artist looking for inspiration, and Jamie's weekly purchases have Roy growing more and more curious. Full AU, Roy/Jamie, G.

#2 Soulmates: loving the expanse between them (1.5k)

Sam’s trying to give Rebecca space, but the new telepathic bond between them throws a spanner in the works. Canon Universe, Sam/Rebecca, G.

#3 Role Reversal: lioness rampant (5.5k)

Keeley is the star footballer, Jamie is the model. Roy is still himself. Slightly pre-series, so Roy's still playing. Canon Universe AND Full AU, Keeley/Jamie + future Roy/Jamie, T.

#4 Crime & Punishment: The Pink Paper Job (1k)

Detective Kent is half-heartedly investigating the theft of artefacts "belonging" to Rupert Mannion. The thief leaves a distinct calling card when repatriating the items. Leverage vibes. Full AU, Roy & Keeley & Jamie, T.

#5 Crossover: star struck (3k)

In which Ted Lasso and Starstruck take place in the same London and new friends are made on a date night at a fancy restaurant. Canon Universe, Keeley/Roy/Jamie + Tom/Jessie, G.

#6 Historical: The 18th of November, 1914 (1k)

The year is 1914 and Jamie’s moved from Manchester to London for work. On his day off, he’s handed a poster asking if he’s a fast, fit, fan of football. Full AU AND Canon Universe, Gen, G.

#7 Science Fiction: the final frontier (2k)

A Star Trek AU - Rebecca is the Captain of the USS Richmond, Keeley's her first officer, and the rest of the crew is made up of familiar faces. Full AU, Roy/Jamie, T.

#8 Adoptive Family: funnier than step brothers (under 1k)

When Isaac’s mum marries Colin’s dad, Isaac is worried it’ll change things. Canon Universe, Colin/Isaac, T.

#9 Reboot/Fresh Start: jeff bridges (7.5k)

Jamie gets a magical do-over of his first season at Richmond. A season 1 redux with a twist. Canon Universe AND Canon Divergent AU, Gen, G.

#10 Espionage: honey trap (1k)

Keeley meets Rebecca early, and helps Rebecca get the evidence she needs to divorce Rupert. Canon Divergent AU, Keeley/Rebecca, T.

#11 Health & Medical: quae prosunt omnibus artes (3.5k)

Hospital setting. Keeley's a children's entertainer, cheering up sick kids on various wards, she meets a gruff surgeon and the junior doctor stuck on rotation with him. Full AU, Keeley & Jamie + Roy/Jamie, M.

#12 Mythology: the exchange of winnings (2.5k)

A Monty Python-esque spin on the Arthurian tale of The Green Knight. Bargains are made and kisses are exchanged. Full AU, Keeley/Roy/Jamie, M.

#13 Infinite Loop: the same, but different (2k)

Ted gets Groundhogged on his first day in London. Beard may or may not be to blame. Canon Universe, Gen, G.

#14 Where It All Went Wrong: one good reason (under 1k)

After the Bye Bye Bye rehearsal ends in disaster, Sam gets the sign to stay that he's been looking for. Canon Divergent AU, Gen, G

#15 Countryside: tho’ her precincts are confin’d (3k)

Keeley's the landlady of a country pub and her bartender Roy keeps bees in the orchard of Rebecca’s estate, where many other familiar faces also work. Full AU, Keeley & Roy + Roy/Jamie, M.

#16 Supernatural: flotsam and jetsam (1k)

A Being Human AU. A werewolf and a vampire move into a house with a resident ghost. No wonder the rent was so low. Full AU, Roy/Keeley + Jamie, M.

#17 Flatmates/Neighbours: the rookie (2k, chapter 1)

Roy avoided injury in 1.10 and is still a player in season 2. When the topic of Jamie returning Richmond arises, Ted has a condition inspired by an NHL tradition. WIP - more to come. Canon Divergent AU, Roy/Keeley + future Roy/Jamie, T.

#18 Childhood: Bradshaw’s Brew (6.5k)

Roy drinks a dodgy beer he finds under Beard’s desk. The effects are unexpected. Luckily Keeley and Jamie are great babysitters. Canon Universe, Roy/Keeley + Jamie, T.

#19 Horror Movie: final girl #13 (1k)

Horror movie tropes are no match for Jan Maas. Canon Universe, Gen, T.

#20 Roadtrip: International (1k, chapter 1)

It's the summer of 2017 and after attending an England match in Paris, Jamie needs a lift back across the Channel. Roy is happy-ish to oblige. WIP - more to come. Full AU, Roy/Jamie, E.

#21 Underwater: Inverfarigaig (under 1k)

Cryptozoology podcasters Beard and Dani are camping in Scotland to search for the Loch Ness Monster. Full AU, Gen, G.

#22 Fake Married/Dating: Suck, Bang & Blow (1k)

Keeley needs help to get rid of a creep in a bar. Jamie, her new best friend from the bathroom, is happy to oblige. Full AU, Keeley & Jamie + Roy/Jamie, T.

#23 Injured: Caledonian Road (4k)

A meet-cute in a Tube station featuring too-large suitcases, too many stairs, scraped knees and piggybacks from a hot personal trainer. Full AU, Keeley/Jamie, G.

#24 Pets: Mushroom Carbonara and Frank (1k)

Roy, owner of fat little rat dog Frank, is invited by Jamie, owner of rescue greyhound Mushroom Carbonara, to a local dog park social event. Roy's keen, Frank less so. Full AU, Roy/Jamie, G.

#25 We Used To Be: isn't it strange, how people can change (4k)

After karaoke in Liverpool Roy reflects on his casual fling with Rebecca as she watches him leave the club with Keeley. Canon Universe, Roy/Rebecca, E.

#26 Body Swap: gift, mouth (3k, chapter 1)

Jamie gives Roy a well-meaning but somewhat unorthodox birthday present. Hijinks ensue. WIP - more to come. Canon Universe, Roy/Jamie, M.

#27 Food & Beverage: cherries jubilee (4k)

Chef Roy and Man City star Jamie get to know each other better over a four course dinner in a continuation of my Grindr AU from all roads. Canon Divergent AU, Roy/Jamie, M.

#28 University/College: Gap Year (4k)

Jamie retires in 2032. With help from Keeley, Roy, and most of all his mum, he figures out what he wants to do next. Canon Universe, Gen, G.

#29 Superpowers: health and safety (1.5k)

Roy’s a superhero, Jamie’s his cleaner turned boyfriend. Roy gets called in to save the day at a really unfortunate moment. A riff on SuperBob. Full AU, Roy/Jamie, E.

#30 Post-Apocalypse: blue diamond (1k)

After the apocalypse, a rag-tag group of Richmond survivors reminisce about what they miss most. Implied main character death. Canon Universe, Roy/Jamie + past Roy/Keeley, T.

#31 No Football: Over and Out (under 1k)

Baseball coaches Ted and Beard have arrived in the UK to coach professional cricket. Ted has a lot to learn about the sport. Full AU, Gen, G.

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