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localgenius · 3 years

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The Romance of the Pear

Sorry I’ve been mia for the last couple of months! I’ve just finished high school so that has been taking up most of my focus, but in the meantime I’ve been working on this! I don’t really know what it is tbh, but I’ve enjoyed writing it and I hope that you’ll enjoy reading it!

A story about Spencer being in love with the reader, and the reader being in love with Spencer

tw: mentions of rape, murder, horrific actions towards women, swearing

Spencer Reid x fem!reader (13.2k) (the app might crash, so it can be an idea to read on a browser!)

The sky outside of the windows was painted a gloomy grey, raindrops falling and hitting the glass of the windows, making them the only noise in the otherwise quiet office.

Y/N was sitting at her desk, her hand fiddling idly with one of her pens as she read over one of the cases she was designated to counsel on. The knitted cardigan around her shoulder helped her to not feel the impending chill from the poor weather, and her feet had abandoned the heels and had found purchase under her body on her chair.

“Good morning sunshine,” a voice pulled her eyes away from the details of horrific killings of prostitutes in the case files.

“Morning Emily,” she smiled back, feeling her mood brighten just the slightest.

“Why are you in so early on a Monday?” Emily asked as she dropped her things down by her already cluttered desk, before she made her way over to take a seat on the edge of Y/N’s desk.

“Oh, I had to talk with Knightly down at sex crimes about this case,” she pointed down at the open case file, not protesting when Emily moved to lift it up to have a look. “And he’s going to Texas at nine, so I had to come in earlier.”

“He carves hearts into their chests?” Emily asked with disgust in her voice after she placed the file back down on the desk.

“Yeah,” Y/N dragged out the word, as she leaned forward to rest her face in her hands. “But not before he rapes and sexually mutilates them. Charming fella.”

“Sounds like a real prince charming,” Emily laughed before she moved to the kitchenette.

“Good morning Prentiss, Y/L/N,” a third voice entered the conversation as Hotch made his way through the glass double doors, rain droplets decking his coat, in a way that reminded Y/N of the way flower petals looked after a storm.

“Morning sir,” Y/N smiled at him and watched him close himself into his office for the day.

“Why hearts though,” Emily said as she came back to reclaim her spot on the edge of the desk.

“I really don’t know,” Y/N grumbled while she leaned back in her chair, “there’s the obvious correlation with love, but the way he treats them screams anything but love and affection. So, my guess is that it has something to do with the view of prostitutes and sex. You know, maybe he believes that sex is a sin, and the only right way to have sex is in marriage, and these prostitutes just throw out their love every time they’re with a new john. But I’m honestly as lost as you are.”

“That’s a good theory,” Emily bounced back, “many people do call it ‘making love’, so if the unsub thinks that the prostitutes are just selling their bodies without a care about love, he might do it to symbolize the love that they could never have.”

“Right,” Y/N was quick to scribble it down on the page as a possible motive for the signature, “thanks Em.”

“Did you know that the shape of the symbolic heart as we know it today originated in the bottom corner of a manuscript called ‘The Romance of Alexander’ dated around 1340?” a voice spoke behind them, as it moved across the room.

“Good morning Spencer,” both Y/N and Emily said, Y/N’s eyes still locked on the file she was scribbling in. “And no, I didn’t know that” Y/N said when she was done writing, letting her eyes meet his across the divider between their desks, as Emily scurried back to her own desk to avoid being a part of the incoming info dump.

“Yeah, and the first illustration of the amorous heart was in 1250 in a picture called ‘The Romance of the Pear’, where a pear, eggplant or pinecone, there is some debate, is an allegory for the heart,” he continued as he dropped his satchel by his desk and sat in his chair before turning on his monitor.

“A pear?” Y/N asked softly, letting her fingers start to mess with the pen again.

“Hm,” Spencer continued, his honey eyes meeting hers. “In western culture the pear is also a symbol of female erotic.”

“Ooh,” Derek’s voice interrupted the quiet moment, breaking the sweet gaze between the two profilers. “Female erotic, my field of expertise.”

“Jesus,” Y/N laughed and turned away from Spencer to face Derek as he draped his jacket over the back of his swirly chair. “Have you just dropped chivalry all together now, or what?”

“What?” Derek asked, as Emily joined in Y/N’s laughter, “I’m just being honest. What are you and pretty boy doing speaking about female erotic at 8:30 on a Monday morning anyway?”

“I was just telling Y/N the symbolism of pears,” Spencer said, not removing his eyes from the monitor, where he was checking his emails against his will.

A smile tugged on Y/N’s lips when she remembered him coming back from being called to Hotch’s office and telling her that he was being forced to get an email account by the bureau. Both Y/N and Penelope had helped him set it up, and he had countless times sheepishly asked Y/N to help him write out a reply.

“Ah yes,” Derek teased as he took a seat in his chair, “symbolism of pears. Just a regular conversation topic on this gloomy Monday morning.”

“I don’t even want to know how on earth you got around to that topic,” Rossi added when he came walking past the clutter of desks.

“It was just-“ Y/N started to explain the obscure conversation topic as Rossi moved up the short flight of stairs.

“No! Don’t wanna hear it,” Rossi called back as he closed his office door.

The four agents shared a look of amusement as they all started on their designated work for the day, the raindrops still trailing down the planes of glass of the windows.

After an hour of silence, only occasionally being interrupted by an agent coming or going or a phone call, Y/N felt herself becoming more and more disheartened by the case on her desk. After having worked at the BAU for approximately a year now, she would have thought that she would have gotten used to the evil the team faced on a daily basis. But something about this guy, ruthlessly raping and killing innocent women, hit her a bit different than she had anticipated.

Letting her feet down from her chair she put them back in her shoes before walking over to the kitchenette to make herself a cup of tea as a comforting hug.

As she stood idly twirling the spoon around in the hot water while waiting for the sugar to dissolve, she heard the signature sound of heels thumping against the floor.

“Good morning my dear angel,” Penelope greeted cheerfully as she came in with her pink octopus mug. Penelope had seemingly decided to take it upon herself to be the sun on the gloomy day; her bright yellow dress making Y/N smile and momentarily forget the case that was patiently waiting for her back at her desk.

“Good morning Pen,” Y/N said and leaned against one of the cupboards as she watched Penelope make her daily green tea. “How was your weekend?”

“Oh, it was lovely,” she exclaimed as she poured hot water into the mug, “I babysat Henry which is always a blast, and then I went shopping and I found the cutest earrings in this small shop. I have to take you at some point!” Penelope said, letting her words come out a mile a minute, only making Y/N’s heart grow lighter.

“I would love that Pen,” Y/N said as they started to make their way back to Y/N’s desk.

“Morning baby girl,” Derek said as he swirled his chair to look at the two girls coming back.

“Morning chocolate thunder,” Penelope said as she perched herself on the edge of his desk. “What did my wonderful Captain America replica do this weekend?”

As the two of them lost themselves in their daily flirtations Y/N made her way back to her desk, only to find the dreaded file missing from its place. She looked around confused, before seeing the familiar pictures over on Spencer’s desk, where he was writing at lightning speed.

“Spence?” Y/N asked softly, but before she could continue, he closed the file and handed it back over to her. He simply gave her a quick, tight-lipped smile before he turned back to his own mountain of paperwork.

Slowly, not taking her eyes from the genius across from her, she opened the file, and saw how he had completed the file for her. His chicken scratches took over where her handwriting had stopped. The time pressure he had been under was clear in the simple short sentences he had scrawled down at the bottom.

Before she could exclaim her gratitude, a bimble came from Penelope’s cell phone and she let out a sad sigh before getting up from her seat on Derek’s desk.

“Duty calls avengers,” she said as she moved to Hotch’s office, while the others started to go to the briefing room.

Before Y/N could get up, Spencer had already bounced up the flight of stairs and was quickly making his way to the briefing room.

“We have an icky case on our hands this time, my dear crime fighters,” Penelope said as she stood by the screen, remote ready in her hand. “Last night, a civilian found a leg wrapped in garbage bags when she took out the trash in central Indianapolis. The leg belonged to Louise Obsen, a 28 year old accountant. The remaining parts of her body were found wrapped in a similar way, dumped in various dumpsters around the block.”

The silence stretched across the briefing room as everyone took in the gruesome details of the murder.

“The dismemberment could be a forensic countermeasure,” Spencer said as he glanced over the file, “it’s easier to hide parts of the body than a whole body.”

“Do we know how the unsub dismembered the bodies?” Emily asked as she flipped through the pictures.

“Yes,” Penelope said as she swallowed harshly as she pressed a button on the remote. “The coroner says the limbs were removed with a standard saw, nothing special. But all of this happened postmortem, the COD was a gunshot to the back of the head.”

“Execution style,” JJ mumbled, “is this the only victim?”

“No,” Hotch said, eyes focused on the case file, “two weeks ago the Indianapolis PD found a young woman, Emma Day, dismembered and discarded in the same way. She was 29”

Penelope clicked on her remote, but she kept her eyes looking straight ahead. Y/N noticed the clear look of discomfort in her eyes, and silently reached down under the conference table and gave her hand a gentle squeeze of comfort.

“They certainly look alike,” Derek chimed in as he looked at the two women on the screen. “Pretty girls with black hair in their late twenties; they’re probably surrogates for the unsubs' real target.”

“What did Emma do for a living Pen?” Y/N asked, her hand still wrapped around Penelope’s.

“She worked as a caretaker at a residential facility, by all accounts she was very well liked there. Both of them were, in fact.”

“Both low-risk victims,” Rossi pondered as he closed his file, “that means that he probably doesn’t appear as a threat.”

“Which makes him all the more dangerous,” Hotch said as he collected his files, “wheels up in 30.”

The plane ride was mostly silent after the team had gone over the case once more.

Y/N was sitting by the window, book laying open in her lap, but her mind was flying with the fluffy clouds outside of the window.

One of her hands was fiddling with the pendant of her necklace as she observed the way the ground was moving underneath the jet.

“Metamorphoses,” a gentle voice pulled her out from her reveries, and her eyes drifted away from the window to see Spencer take the seat across from her, holding a cup of strawberry tea out to her.

“Excuse me?” she asked softly, still a tad too lost in her own head to be able to catch up with him.

“Your book,” he said, gesturing to the book in her lap. “You’re reading Metamorphoses.”

“Oh yeah,” she laughed, moving to shut the book and rest it on the table in between them. “I uh,” she started as she straightened up in her seat, “I took a class in classics at university, and I found my notes a few weeks back, and I remembered how much I loved Ovid’s writing and his stories, so I went and bought it this weekend.”

“Which one is your favourite?” Spencer asked softly, taking a sip from his own mug, undoubtedly filled to the brim with a concussion of coffee and sugar.

“Do you promise you’re not going to judge me?” Y/N asked, as she teasingly raised her eyebrows as she also took a sip of her mug.

“I promise,” Spencer laughed incredulously, “I would never judge anyone who voluntarily reads Ovid.”

“Okay fair enough,” she said and let both of her hands wrap around the mug to get some heat into her hands. “It’s probably ‘Apollo and Daphne’, very unoriginal, I know.”

“No, no uh-,” Spencer was quick to sit up straighter and lean on over the table while I cleared his throat, “that one’s really good. I love it too actually.”

“You do?” Y/N asked, unconsciously leaning in closer to Spencer.

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly, “I find that there’s something beautiful in loving someone who will never love you back.”

“Beautiful?”

“Yeah, you see, it’s kind of like the oldest story known to man. Unrequited love. And I don’t know, I guess I just know the feeling. To love something that’s so far out of my reach,” he explained softly, letting his eyes fall to the coffee in his mug.

“Spencer,” Y/N mumbled softly, letting her hand creep closer to where he was gripping his mug tightly. “Nothing will ever-“

But before she could finish her sentence Emily popped up and interrupted the two of them.

“We’re landing in ten, Y/N you’re with me, we’re going to go to the different dumpsites.”

“Yeah, okay,” Y/N said breathlessly, as she watched Spencer quickly regain his posture and leaned back in his seat as he fastened his seatbelt, pretending that he hadn’t just shared something that would now be permanently engraved into Y/N’s brain.

“What were you and Reid talking about on the jet?”

The question pulled Y/N out of her thoughts as she was reading over the case fil once more before they arrived at the first dumpsite.

“Huh?”

Emily turned her head to quickly glance at the younger agent next to her, her sunglasses covering her mischievous eyes.

“On the jet,” she further went on, “you both looked like you were seconds away from imploding from feelings.”

“Oh,” Y/N laughed awkwardly, straightening up her back, trying to square up a bit unconsciously. “We were just talking about this book I’m reading. He just gave an interesting input on one of my favourite stories.”

“Really,” Emily teased, carefully driving into the parking space next to the alley.

“Yeah, just talking about books,” Y/N said as she jumped out of the SUV, shutting the heavy door behind her.

The gloomy weather had thankfully stayed behind in D.C., leaving the team to soak up the lovely spring sun that shined overhead in them in Indianapolis.

“What was that about unrequited love then?” Emily continued to press on as they walked over to the group of policemen standing by the dumpsters.

“It’s the theme of the story,” Y/N grumbled before swiftly putting on a smile as a young man headed towards them.

“You must be with the BAU,” the man started as he held out his hand for the two of them to shake.

“Yes, agents Prentiss and Y/L/N,” Emily said as she shook his hand, “Are you the lead detective on the case?”

“Yes, detective Michaels,” he said as he lifted the yellow police tape for the three of them to step under.

“Nice to meet you,” Y/N said softly smiling at him, while Emily softly laughed and shook her head to herself at the young agent when she saw Michaels already developing what the team had dubbed ‘Y/N eyes’.

One of the things that the team noticed when Y/N Y/L/N had joined the team was her extreme kindness. It challenged even Penelope’s something that they hadn’t thought was possible. When they all first had been introduced to each other Y/N had made sure to look at each individual team member like they were the sun, her attention focused solely on the profiler in question. On every case the team had worked Emily hadn’t once experienced Y/N kindly greet the detectives working on the case, and often gave them her sweet smile that made everyone melt in their spot – often resulting in them giving her ‘Y/N eyes’ the rest of the case.

Her kindness had especially seemed to do a trick on the resident genius of the BAU; a fact abundantly clear for all of the team members except for the two of them. While the remainder of the team never was rude or unkind to him, they never seemed to engage with him the same way she did. There was a willingness to hear him ramble on about the most obscure things, a gleam in both of their eyes when they would talk about their favourite books in hushed voices on the jet when they thought everyone else was asleep.

“How long had the leg been out here before it was found?” Emily asked, breaking the detective out of his gaze locked on Y/N.

“Uh,” he said as he started to fumble with the notepad as Emily and Y/N shared a quick smile as they survived the dumpsters littering the area. “The coroner says about 24 hours.”

“So he dumped it in the evening the previous day,” Y/N said as she glanced around the alley. “How many buildings have access to the alley?”

“Three, these two facing this street,” the detective said as he pointed to the street Emily and Y/N had come from, “and then the other one facing that one,” he said as he pointed down the alley to the street at the other end.

“There’s a good chance that he owns a van,” Y/N said as she moved her sunglasses to the top of her head as they got deeper into the alley where her vision wasn’t obscured by the sunlight. “He could back in, get out, take the limbs out from the back and discard them quickly before being on the move again. It would just look like a guy throwing out trash for anyone passing by at that hour.”

“You’re right,” Emily said as she walked back over to Michaels and Y/N. “He discards them like trash, no signs of remorse of any kind.”

“What does that mean?” Michaels asked as they walked out of the alley and on their way to the next dumpsite.

“That he hates women,” Emily and Y/N said in unison, as they continued their tread down the silent street.

“It would be a good idea to have your officers make a door to door on the surrounding buildings of the two dumpsites,” Y/N said as she and detective Michaels walked into the precinct.

“Why?” He asked while holding the door open for her.

She shot him a small grateful smile as they made their way to the conference room the team had made their office for the coming time. “There’s a chance that some of the residents saw or heard something without knowing its importance, so just have them ask if they remember seeing or hearing anything on the evening of the 15th.”

“Will do agent,” he smiled back at her, and held the door to the conference room open for her as well.

As they walked into the room, they saw the entire team sitting around it, all with their heads deep buried in their case files, or in Spencer’s case, a map, and a plethora of coffee cups covering the table.

“What did you get from the dump sites?” JJ asked when she lifted her head to take a generous sip of her coffee.

At the sound of JJ speaking the entire team turned their heads to see who had joined them in their small room.

Y/N smiled and moved to take a seat in the chair between Rossi and Spencer. “We think he might own a van; the alleys are big enough for a van to back in there and block the view from the street. Emily stayed back to interview a woman that said she remembered a loud noise that evening.”

“That’s good,” Hotch said without lifting his eyes from the case file. “He might work as a carpenter, if he has a van and that his preferred method of dismemberment is with a saw.”

“But wouldn’t that still be a huge number?” Morgan asked as he sat back in his chair while twirling a pen between his fingers. “In a city like Indianapolis the number of carpenters must be quite significant.”

“You’re right,” Rossi mumbled before pulling his phone out, before pressing the familiar buttons.

“The oracle of Quantico at your service sir,” the chipper voice of Penelope blasted through the speakers of the phone, making everyone around the table break out a small smile.

“Garcia, how many carpenters are there in the hunting zone of the unsub?” Rossi asked.

“Uh, quite a bit sir,” Penelope said as she typed her fingers off on her end. “Do you have any other parameters so I can narrow this down?”

“Based on victimology he would be in his late twenties to early thirties, white and would own a dark van.”

“I will do my best sir,” she said as adieu, before she hung up.

The team went back to looking over the case files after Hotch directed Michaels to start door-to-door, silence taking over the room as they all looked over the clues hidden in the papers.

“Guys,” Emily said when she hurried into the room half an hour later, “I talked to a woman who said that she heard a noise the night the unsub dumped Louise’s leg, and she said she saw a dark van just like Y/N theorized, and she said there was a logo on it. So, I called Garcia and she tracked down the carpenter firm to be ‘Better Builders’.”

“Okay,” Hotch said, going up the board before looking over the collected evidence. “Reid, Y/L/N could you go talk to the owner of the firm? Go see if there are any employees that match the profile.”

“Yes sir,” they both said in unison as they started getting up from their chairs.

Spencer held the door open for Y/N when they walked out of the room, shy smiles exchanged between them as they moved through the precinct. The sun was still shining bright when the two of them exited the station, silence stretching thin between them, leaving them trapped in the space of their own minds.

“Have you gotten something from the geographic profile?” Y/N asked to break the silence between them as Spencer turned on the car and started to drive away from the station.

“Huh?” Spencer asked, seemingly too lost in his own head to having registered that he had been asked a question.

“The geographical profile?” she asked softly, letting her eyes trail over his profile.

“Right,” he exclaimed softly, “and no, not really. Just uh, that he probably lives or works in the area between the two dumpsites, but unfortunately-”

“We won’t be able to be more specific until we have another victim,” Y/N finished for him, letting out a sigh before turning her gaze out of the windshield.

“Yeah,” Spencer said softly, letting them drive in silence for a while.

Y/N sat with her head leaning against the headrest as she saw the city of Indianapolis pass them by, visions of mutilated women flying through her mind. She thought that after a year of working at the BAU she would have developed a thicker skin, just like the rest of the team. But she was still feeling nauseous every time she saw women being brutally mutilated and felt her heart break and tears press on when a child fell victim to the horrible desires of adults.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked softly when he noticed how silent she had become on the drive.

“Yeah,” she mumbled back softly, mind still sifting through the awful images haunting her mind. “Just thinking about what kind of monster could do this to innocent women.”

“That’s the question that keeps us in business,” Spencer joked light-heartedly, trying to get rid of the tension inside of the SUV.

“You’re right,” she joked along, “as always.” She felt the corners of her lips twist upwards when he barked out a laugh. “And I guess,” she continued softly, “I’m just wondering when I will stop being so soft.”

“What do you mean?” he asked genuinely when they stopped at a red light, cars piling behind them.

“It’s just,” she tried to gather her thoughts to the best of her abilities, feeling the pressure of his gaze on the side of her face. “I’ve been with this team for almost a year, and I still feel sick on cases like this. I still sometimes cry in the bathroom,” she laughed, hoping to reduce the melancholy air in the car. “I wonder if I’ll ever develop thicker skin like the rest of you guys.”

Her words hung in the air for a moment too long for her liking, before Spencer cleared his throat.

“Y/N,” he started softly, gently starting to step on the gas again, “you don’t have to develop thicker skin. You don’t have to do anything. Your gentleness and kindness are great virtues, that makes you who you are. Your empathy and love for everyone around you makes you the wonderful person that you are, and I think that they make you such a good profiler,” he explained, never letting his eyes stray away from the road. “I think sometimes the rest of us become immune to the monstrosities that we see, but you, and Penelope,” he interjected quickly, making a burst out a small laugh while her eyes glazed over with tears, “reminds us what it’s like to be human. To just want to make the world beautiful for everyone else.”

She kept her eyes fixed on him as he spoke. His gentle eyes still fixated on the road before them, his hair curling delicately around his ears. His lips had formed a kind smile as he spoke, and his hands were gripping tightly on the steering wheel as he navigated through the foreign city.

“That’s very nice of you Spence,” she whispered softly, “thank you.”

“There’s no shame in being soft,” he continued while he drove around to find a parking spot. “It’s a gentle reminder that you’re human, that we’re all human. And I’m very happy that you are the way you are, and I wouldn’t want you to change yourself for anything.”

He parked the car and the two agents just sat in the car for a moment longer. Each one basking in the softness of the love filled moment, each pair cheeks flushed red and fingers tingling with amorous sparks.

“Can I hug you?” Y/N asked gently, breaking the delicate silence.

“Uh,” Spencer cleared his throat before nodding his head, “yeah, yeah you can.”

She slowly undid her seatbelt before cautiously moving over the centre console and let her arms wrap around his shoulders.

She felt his arms slowly but surely slither their way around her waist, before he let his head fall and rest in the crook of her neck. His hazel curls were tickling her soft cheek, emitting a small giggle from her from the joyous sensation. He started to giggle softly along with her, their laughs dancing together in the vast space of the SUV.

“Thank you for finishing my consultation,” she whispered into the fabric of his cardigan, letting the scratchiness bring her comfort. She felt him scrunch up the fabric of her cardigan, before he nodded against her shoulder.

“Of course,” he mumbled before starting to release her from his grip, “any time.”

“We should go out there,” she said when they had pulled away, dopey smiles painting both of their faces. “And find that monster.”

“Yeah,” he said and opened his side door, “let’s get him.”

“It turned out that there weren’t any carpenters working for ‘Better Builders’ that matched the preliminary profile, yet the owner of the firm could confirm that one of their vans had been stolen about two weeks prior to the first murder,” Spencer said as he and Y/N walked into the room where Hotch and Morgan was sitting.

“Did they report it?” asked Morgan with his hands resting on the back of his head as he leaned back in his chair.

“Yeah,” Y/N said, as she took a seat on one of the swirly chairs, “I asked Michaels if he could pull up the report to see if there are any leads.”

“Good,” Hotch said before the sound of his ringtone cut the conversation short, “what do you have Garcia.”

“Sir,” she started, the sound of her clicking on the keyboard clear through the mic, “I found something funky regarding the two victims. So at first I couldn’t find any connection between Louise and Emma, but then I did some sleuthing and I found out that in the days leading up to their deaths day had both gone on a date. Not so weird you probably say, I say it’s weird when the date is with the same person, and from the looks of it they both met him on a dating app.”

Silence took over the room as the four team members processed the information.

“Can you find out who the prince charming is, baby girl?” Derek asked as he leaned on closer to the phone.

“Oh, I’m already ten steps ahead of you sugar, and the prince charming is Sheldon Green, but here’s the kicker. It’s not Sheldon Green.”

The room was once again silent, the puzzle pieces laying spread all around them, refusing to be put together. The silence was broken when an officer came in and handed Spencer the case file on the stolen van.

“What do you mean Pen,” Y/N asked, confusion clear in her voice.

“I’ll tell you what I mean sweetums,” Penelope continued, the tapping stopping on her end of the call, “I did my thing and pulled up the profile from Louise’s phone and quickly matched the person on the profile to Mr. Green, but the actual Mr. Green has a very legit alibi for both times because the first time he was at his boyfriend’s parent’s house for family dinner and the second time he was at a work conference two towns over.”

“So someone has used Green’s identity to lure the victims onto a date?” Y/N asked, still confused.

“It would appear so. I have successfully hacked into the account, and I have tried to track down the phone the creep has used but have come up blank. He is using some weird firewall, incognito thing that I have trouble working my way around it but trust me I’m trying.”

“Okay,” Hotch mumbled, deep lost within his own head. “Can you see if he’s arranged any upcoming dates on the app?”

“I can’t see any based on the messages he has on this app, but sir he could be on a lot, there’s so many dating apps and websites out there, and I have no way of knowing if he uses Sheldon Green as an identity on those as well, or if he uses another one,” she said already back to tapping away. “And by the way, all the women he has matched with look very similar to both Louise and Emma, so he definitely has a type. They were just the unlucky ones,” she said with sadness seeping clearly through the speaker

“Keep taps on the Sheldon Green profile and let us know if he starts to talk to anyone on there.”

“Aye aye captain,” she said before hanging up, leaving the room in silence once more.

“Fucking creep,” Y/N mumbled before standing up and abruptly leaving the room, an uncomfortable chill running down her back. The precinct was buzzing with phone calls and voices trying to talk over each other. Y/N was quick to move in and out through the clutter of desks and officers milling around, before she finally got outside.

The sun had set, in its place the moon was shining bright over head of her, a few stars visible from the bright lights of the big city. There were cars zooming by; fathers desperate to make it home and kiss their babies goodnight, mothers tired from an evening of soccer matches, husbands buzzing with flowers in the front seat and wives crying searching for refuge at their friends’ houses.

All so blissfully unaware of the monsters hiding out in the night. A blessing she didn’t have anymore.

She let her back rest against the cinderblock wall behind her and let her eyes drift shut for just a moment, letting her pretend she wasn’t in the midst of hunting down a monster. Pretending that she was 19 again, somewhere, still like the rest. Still so wonderfully naïve.

“You okay?” a voice pulled her from her silent reveries, and she quickly opened her eyes to see JJ, Rossi and Emily before her, all three of them with concern in their eyes.

“Oh yeah,” she brushed their concern off with a swift, dismissive wave of her hand. “Just tired.”

“Well,” Rossi started, moving forward to get a good grip on one of her shoulders, “it’s been a long day, hopefully we can all head back to the hotel soon.”

“That would be great,” Emily said as she and Rossi opened the door to the station, leaving Y/N and JJ out in the open air.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” JJ asked, leaning against the wall as well, hands folded together in front of her.

Y/N let out a deep sigh before letting her eyes fall shut again. “Penelope discovered that he uses a guy’s identity to get them to go on dates with him via dating apps,” she started to explain. “And she has no way of knowing if he uses the same identity on other dating sites, so we basically don’t have any way of getting to him.”

“But we will,” JJ encouraged softly, her hand rubbing up and down Y/N’s shoulder softly, “just like we always do.”

“You’re right,” Y/N smiled gratefully, before quickly taking her phone out of her pocket and checking the time. “If you hurry, I bet you have enough time to call Henry and Will and read a bedtime story.”

They profilers shared a small laugh before JJ took her leave and moved inside, already pulling Will’s number up on her phone.

She let herself close her eyes for the third time, feeling how exhaustion was slowly making its home in all of her limbs.

“I brought you some tea,” a voice said gently, as if careful to not startle her too much.

She peeked one of her eyes open to see Spencer standing bashfully by her side, a paper cup filled with tea in one hand, and his worn, wool blazer in the other.

“They don’t have strawberry tea, so it’s just earl grey,” he said carefully as he carefully handed it over to her, making sure she didn’t spill any in the transfer.

“Thank you, Spence,” Y/N smiled sweetly, before giving the beverage a gentle blow before taking a sip.

“And uh,” he continued, looking down at his converse that seemed to try to bury themselves in the cement beneath them, “Emily said it was pretty chilly so I thought you might like a coat, and I know that you’ve said that yours isn’t very practical for chilly nights so I thought you might like mine, but it’s totally fine if you don’t, I just didn’t want you to be cold-“ he said, his mouth running 100 miles a minute, flustered cheeks blazing under the pale moonlight.

“Spencer,” she said, laying a careful hand on his forearm, “that’s very sweet of you. I would love to borrow your jacket if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course,” he was quick to exchange the jacket in his hand for the cup in hers so that she could put on the coat. He handed her back the cup silently, letting himself loose himself in the vision of her standing under a combination of streetlight and the gentle glow of the moon, all the while wearing his coat.

“Did you get anything from the police report?” she asked gently before moving to sit on the curb, he knees up to her chest and the cup resting on one of her kneecaps.

Spencer followed, looking apprehensively at the curb before joining her by her side, with his knees in the same position but his arms wrapped around his legs and his hands clapped together in front of his shins.

“There was a witness that had said that they saw a man lurking around the street for about an hour or so in the time frame of when the van was stolen,” he explained looking at her as she took sips of the tea while looking at the passing cars. “They gave a description, so we have turned that over to Garcia.”

“That’s good,” Y/N mumbled before taking another swig of her tea.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently, scooting an inch closer to her on the dirty curb.

“Yeah,” she sighed, her eyes meeting his gentle ones, “this case is just hitting a bit close to home, I guess. No idea why though.”

“We all get those,” he said, letting his eyes rise up to look at the mighty moon.

“Thank you for bringing me a cup of tea Spence,” she mumbled, scooting an inch closer to him on the dirty curb.

“It helps you calm down,�� he mumbled, eyes now no longer on the moon but rather at the shrinking space between their bodies.

“It does?” she asked, breath caught in her throat.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes flickering up to her face, “every time you drink tea you become calmer, and generally when you hold a warm cup, no matter the beverage, you pulse slows down.”

“I didn’t know that,” she said, letting her eyes flicker over his face.

Spencer just shrugged with a small smile before letting his eyes fly down to briefly take a glimpse at her lips before they went back to her eyes.

“Is that why you always bring me tea?” she inquired, letting her own eyes fly down to his lips, where his tongue is gently poking out.

“Yeah,” he laughed gently, subconsciously leaning into the heat that was radiating off of her.

She leaned into him as well, their noses barely brushing, their soft breaths mixing together, “that’s incredibly thoughtful.”

He swallowed around the lump in his throat before he dared to speak, “it’s what you do for the people you care about.”

They both leaned in closer, their noses now brushing up against one another, lips only a breath away from touching, “it’s what you do for the people you lo-“

His words were caught short from the sound of the door to the station bursting open, resulting in them pulling away from the moment in time they had created together. The team came bustling out, all of them looking mere minutes away from collapsing on the pavement from exhaustion.

“Y/L/N, Reid we’re done for the night, we all need to get some rest,” Hotch said when he noticed the two young agents sitting together on the curb.

“Oh,” they both said, hurrying to stand up and brush away any dirt from their time on the ground.

“I need to go grab my satch-“ Spencer started to say, already moving towards the door, but Derek was quick to lift up the worn satchel that he was carrying in his hand.

“Nope,” he said, turning Reid around and directing him to one of the SUVs as Emily linked her arm through Y/N’s and led her to the other one holding a bit further down.

“Nice coat,” Emily mumbled into Y/N’s ear, laughing quietly when the young agent’s ears started to turn red.

“Shut up,” Y/N said, hiding her smile behind the paper cup of lukewarm tea, as she watched Spencer pile into the black after Derek, a small smile shared between them, only for them to know about.

Her boots were clicking against the floor of the station as she made the first stop of the day at the coffee station. A few officers and detectives were there at the early morning hour, and the team was already setting up in the conference room, bracing themselves for the day to come.

She poured four packs of sugar into a cup, quickly dozing it in the hot coffee stirring it as she started to walk through the room to get to the team.

The weight of a blazer was heavy on her arm and the heat from the coffee cup warmed her entire body in the early morning hour as she discreetly opened the door and moved to take a seat next to Spencer as Hotch was talking.

“We need to go over victimology again,” Hotch started, and the team started to list all of the facts of the two victims.

“Here,” Y/N whispered softly, sliding the paper cup over to Spencer.

He averted his eyes away from where Emily was talking about the unsub having had a relationship with a woman that bore a resemblance to the victims.

“Excuse me?” he asked, his eyes drifting over her still sleepy features.

She nodded down to the paper cup between them, steam flying up and dancing between them. “Don’t worry,” she smiled at him, still keeping her voice low, “I made sure to put loads of sugar in.”

He smiled softly down at the cup, before looking up at her again with his lips pressed tightly together in a smile. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled back, finally letting the conversation between the rest of the team get her attention.

Unlike Y/N, Spencer’s attention was now nowhere near the conversation about who knows what. All he could focus on was the warmth radiating from the cup between his slender fingers and from the person sitting next to him.

He could still perfectly see her face and her sleepy morning smile as he stared down in the coffee. He could feel a smile pull at the corners of his lips as he went over the sweet interaction multiple times in his head.

An elbow to the ribs from his other side was what brought him out of his daydreams, and he lifted his head to see the entire team staring him down.

“What?” he asked, taking a sip of the steaming brew.

“Have you come further with the geo profile?” Hotch asked from where he stood by the bulletin board.

“No,” Spencer said, sitting up straighter in his chair, “I’m waiting for Garcia to look into the night where the van was stolen.”

Hotch made a sound of approval before he started to give out orders for the team. Y/N and Emily were to go join the officers in the door to door rounds along with the local officers, Morgan and Reid would go and take a look at the crime scenes and visit the morgue to see if they had missed anything and JJ, Rossi and Hotch would stay put and look through the details again.

Spencer caught the eyes of Derek over the table as they all started to move around, a teasing glint in the older agent’s eyes and a mischievous smile on his lips.

Spencer furrowed his brows in question, which only deepened when Derek nodded to the coffee in Spencer’s hand. Derek simply shook his head and laughed silently to himself as he shared a quick glance with Emily, who was sitting on the other side of Spencer. She also simply just laughed and waited for Y/N to finish the conversation she was in the midst of with JJ.

Derek was quick to walk around the table, grab Spencer around the shoulders and direct him out of the stuffy conference room and out of the station.

“Now,” Derek said as they had made it halfway through the precinct, “is there a reason why Y/N brought you, and only you, a cup of coffee?”

“Uh,” Spencer fumbled over his words as he stopped in the midst of a step at Derek’s words. “What do you mean?”

Derek simply laughed as he took a stance in front of Spencer, efficiently blocking Spencer’s only escape route. “Now don’t get me wrong, Y/N is a very sweet girl, but in the year that she’s been on the team, she has never brought a coffee for just me, if you know what I’m saying.”

“I don’t.”

“Of course not,” Derek just laughed again, and nodded his head to a thing over Spencer’s shoulder. When Spencer turned his head to look, he was met with the sight of Y/N that was still talking to JJ. “Did anything happen between the two of you last night?” Derek tried to reiterate his question when Spencer turned his eyes back to his friends after a moment off blatantly staring at Y/N.

“No,” Spencer said, brows deeply furrowed.

“Are you sure?” Derek continued, “there was nothing going on between the two of you when we went home last night? When you were sitting on the curb?”

“Oh, that,” Spencer said, a red flush covering his cheeks and ears at the fact that the rest of the team had witnessed the intimate moment that he had thought had been strictly between the two of them.

“Yeah,” Derek laughed and clapped his hand down on Spencer’s shoulder as he started to guide the younger agent out of the doors.

“She was just feeling a bit out of it, so I brought her some tea,” Spencer started, his mind running faster than his mouth could compete with, “she calms down significantly when she drinks tea, or just generally has a warm beverage in her hands. Actually a study has shown-“ Spencer started to ramble on as they got out of the precinct, the early morning sun shining down on them.

But before he could distract Derek any further, a voice called out behind them, cutting Spencer short.

“Spence!” she called as she hurried out of the double doors, with Emily tailing behind her with a smirk on her face.

“Yeah?” Spencer said and both he and Derek turned towards the other two agents.

“I uhm,” she started, slightly fumbling over her words, anxiously glancing from Reid to Morgan, who was also standing with a big smirk on his face. “I forgot to give this back to you yesterday.”

She reached her arm out between them, offering him the battered blazer. Spencer looked down at it for a minute before slowly taking it into his hand that wasn’t holding the coffee, images of her wearing it the prior evening flying through his mind.

“Right,” Spencer said, nodding his head.

“And I just wanted to,” she trailed off, quickly looking at Derek before looking back at Spencer.

Derek seemed to get the hint, because he silently made his adieu and joined Emily, who was standing and waiting by the parked SUVs.

“I wanted to thank you for yesterday,” she said, her voice light and feathery in the spring morning. “You were very sweet, and it made me feel a lot better.”

“Oh, it was no problem,” Spencer said, the blush returning to his face.

“Still,” she continues, taking a miniscule step towards him, “it meant a lot to me.”

“You’re my friend,” Spencer said softly, letting his eyes glide over her face, letting himself bask in the way the sun made her eyes gleam. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am,” she was quick to reply, sparing a quick look over to the two older agents that were watching them like hawks.

“I’m glad,” Spencer smiled down at her, tightening his grip on the blazer in his hands.

The spring wind was ruffling his hair around, making locks fall into his eyes. Before he could let a hand run through his curls, an unfamiliar hand beat him to it.

Her hand ran gently through his hair, making the curls fall back into the righteous place. She let the hand glide down to the side of his face, holding gently onto his soft cheek. Before he could fully grasp what was happening, she was throwing her arms around his shoulders, giving him a tight squeeze. She pressed a quick kiss to the cheek she had previously been caressing, before she pulled away from his body, his arms still hanging rigidly by his sides.

“Thank you,” she whispered again, before hurrying over to Emily.

Spencer watched her walk away, eyes following her retreating form as she dragged Emily into one of the SUVs, flipping Derek the bird when he called out a comment after her that Spencer didn’t hear because of the ringing in his ears.

“Pretty boy,” Derek called out, a know-it-all look painted all over his face, as he watched the young agent standing baffled in the middle of the sidewalk. “Are you sure nothing happened?”

Spencer could still feel the ghost of her arms around his neck, could still feel the pressure of her body against his and the softness of her lips against his cheek. His ears, that were a colour of red that challenged roses, were ringing, and his eyes were firmly locked in the place she had previously been.

“Reid!” Derek called out again, a loud laugh on the verge of spilling from his lips.

“Huh?” Spencer was finally pulled out from his reveries, making him acutely aware of the fact that Derek and Emily, and potentially many others, had witnessed the small moment between the two of them.

“Nothing happened between the two of you huh?”

“Shut up,” Spencer mumbled as he quickly walked over to the car, hopelessly hoping for a silent car ride, his mind already drifting back to just a moment before.

The room was cold.

She could feel her colleagues’ eyes on her from behind the one-way mirror behind her as she leaned back in her chair.

Her heels were clicking on the floor as she tapped her foot as she kept a firm gaze on the man in front of her.

Emily was sitting beside her, flipping through a folder as she was repeating the rights to the person in front of the two of them.

“Do you understand?” she finished, and her eyes joined Y/N’s and looked at the man on the other side of the table.

The silence stretched across the room, the only sound being Y/N’s heels and Emily’s ruffling through the file.

“Do you understand your rights?” Y/N repeated, brows furrowing as she stared down the man.

He continued to stay silent, his gaze locked on where his hands were cuffed to the table. His dirty-blonde hair was a mess and the glasses on his face were slightly broken from the run-in he had had with Morgan.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Emily sighed and let the folder drop down onto the table surface.

“So, Elliott, do you know Louise Obsen?” Y/N asked, her hands folding together in her lap.

He continued to stay silent, eyes never drifting away from their safe spot as the two agents continued to stare him down.

His baby blue button-down was wrinkled and the more Y/N continued to observe him the more she thought about how un-special he was. Nothing about him was noteworthy and she wouldn’t give him a second glance if he were to pass her in the street.

A murderer hiding in plain sight.

“What about Emma Day?” Emily took over and leaned across the table to get closer to him. She slid two pictures across the table to him; the faces of the two young, beautiful women staring back at him from where he cowered within himself.

“Nothing?” Y/N asked and stood up to get rid of the restlessness that was starting to sink into her bones and started to walk around the room slowly.

“Never heard of them before,” he finally grumbled but his eyes remained downcast.

Emily and Y/N’s eyes met from across the room, both pairs of eyebrows lifting in disbelief.

“Oh really?” Emily prodded.

“Yeah,” he said slowly, and Y/N moved to stand behind him and glanced over his shoulder at the two pictures.

“That’s a shame huh,” Y/N said with her arms crossed across her chest, “they’re two very beautiful women.”

“Oh yeah,” Emily agreed as she leaned back in her chair.

“Actually,�� Y/N said as if the thought had just hit her, “they kind of look like you Em.”

“Yeah,” Emily laughed a bit, “they kind of do.”

They waited for Elliott to react. From where Y/N was standing she could see the tenseness in his shoulders. His leg was bouncing up and down with a rapid pace and she was sure she could see a small bead of sweat trail down his temple.

Y/N glanced up at the one-way mirror that was behind Emily and could almost feel Spencer’s eyes catching her from the other side.

“But it doesn’t really surprise me,” Y/N continued and moved from her place behind him to lean up against the chair that she had previously been sitting on, “that you don’t know them I mean.”

“What do you mean?” he asked slowly, taking the bait just like she had hoped.

“Oh, you know,” she sighed, lifting her head up to glance at the ceiling quickly before letting them fall back to the man in front of her. “Why would two young, beautiful women know you? You’re just an engineer at a random tech company.”

“You’re right Y/N,” Emily continued and looked up at her colleague.

“Like, would you pay him any mind Emily? If he came up to you in a bar or something?”

“No,” Emily laughed loudly and glanced at the man that was slowly starting to simmer in his own anger.

“Not even entertain him for the fun of it?” Y/N continued, knowingly rubbing salt in the newly created wound.

“I have standards Y/N,” she played along, her eyes also locked on the man.

“That’s a shame,” Y/N said as she moved to sit down again, “I think you’re his type.”

From across the table the two agents could see the way he was gritting his teeth together and how his hands were wringing together in anger.

“I bet you would love nothing more than to take agent Prentiss home,” she continued slowly leaning across the table to get into his personal space. “Lure her with the promise of a good time.”

“And, when I would turn him down,” Emily started to participate and mirrored Y/N’s pose, “he would spend the rest of the night watching from afar.”

Elliott finally lifted his gaze and was met with two agents fake smiling at him from the other side of the table.

“He would wait until you were alone,” Y/N continued, making sure to maintain the eye contact that she’d finally established.

“But he wouldn’t have the guts to confront me,” Emily drawled on, fiddling with the many papers in the file.

“So he would attack you from behind,” Y/N took over, “like a coward”

“And he would put me in a car,” Emily said as she pulled out a photo of the ‘Better Builders’ van, “one that wouldn’t be able to be connected to him, because despite being a coward, he isn’t stupid.”

“Then he would take you somewhere isolated,” the other agent mumbled, letting her hands run through her hair. “Like a cabin or something.”

“Something like this?” Emily asked and pulled out another photo, this one of an isolated cabin they had been able to connect with Elliott.

“Yeah, exactly,” Y/N laughed and pushed the picture towards him. “Do you recognize this place, Elliott?”

“No,” he grumbled, eyes refusing to look at the pictures in front of him.

“Are you sure?” Emily asked, “because that cabin belonged to your father, and from what we have been able to find, said cabin now belongs to you.”

He just shook his head as Emily talked, eyes burning holes in the table beneath his hands.

“So he would take you somewhere isolated,” Y/N tried to get the conversation back on the prior path, “somewhere no one would hear you scream.”

“And then he would play around, terrorising me for God knows how long,” any kind of playfulness or teasing had left Emily’s voice and a sadness and anger had taken their place.

“And then, to finish it off,” Y/N said, her voice low and sad, “he would shoot you in the back of the head.”

“But he knows a body is too difficult to get rid of and even though the cabin is isolated the body would be found if he were to just dump it,” Emily continued, hard eyes looking at the suspect.

“So he would have to cut you up,” Y/N mumbled, “and discard the limbs and only hope that they won’t be found.”

Silence stretched across the room again. The two agents staring down the man before them. The man, who was shaking and whose face had become beat red.

“See Elliott,” Emily said, starting to collect the pictures that were laid out on the table before them, “that’s what we think you did to Louise Obsen and Emma Day.”

“And when we get a search warrant for your cabin, which is in the process, we will find something in there that confirms that you did this.” Y/N said moving to lean back in her chair. “A hair, a piece of a nail or a little drop of blood that confirms that you killed two innocent women.”

“And when that happens,” Emily continued, “you will get locked away for a long time. And trust me,” she paused and leaned in closer to him, “you won’t survive long in a federal prison.”

“But,” Y/N drawled out, “if you cooperate we could do something for you.”

He continued to stay quiet, eyes still not looking at them.

“Well,” Emily sighed and moved to stand up, Y/N following suit, “suit yourself.”

The two agents moved to walk out of the interrogation room, before a voice stopped them.

“I’ll tell you,” he said slowly, causing them to turn around and look back at him staring at the two of them. “But only you,” he stared at Emily with intent.

Y/N glanced at her co-worker and was met with a confident nod as she moved to take a seat once again.

Y/N looked back at the pair one final time before leaving the room to watch from behind the glass.

Once she stepped out into the hallway she was met with Rossi and Spencer shifting their gazes from the interrogation room to her as she closed the door behind her.

“Good work kiddo,” Rossi said, walking away from the glass and clapping her gently on the shoulder before moving past her, probably to find Hotch and inform him of Elliot being willing to cooperate.

“Thank you, sir,” Y/N mumbled as she watched him walk back into the hectic precinct.

“You did really well,” Spencer said as she moved to stand beside him and watch Elliott talk with Emily.

“Thanks Spence,” Y/N said, looking up at him as he looked down at her at the same time.

They stood there for a while, just listening to the confession that was pouring out of Elliott. From where she stood beside him Y/N could feel the heat radiating from Spencer. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his dark purple tie matched the light purple shirt perfectly.

Y/N shifted her eyes back to the interrogation but could still feel his eyes on the side of her face. As they stood side by side Y/N could feel a soft motion of a finger slowly moving across the back of her hand.

As she glanced down, she saw Spencer’s pinkie moving slowly across the plain of the back of her hand; she could feel the heat slowly spread across her face.

She slowly manoeuvred her hand around so she could rub her finger against his as well, before a loud voice forced their hands apart.

“Y/L/N,” Derek called from behind them, walking across the precinct and the two other agents turned around to see him approach them. “Rossi said that you got him to cooperate.”

“Yeah,” Y/N coughed as she cleared her throat and moved to fold her arms across her chest to try to delete the prior moment from Derek’s mind.

“How’d you do it?” he said as he moved closer to the pair and stood between Y/N and Spencer as he spied into the room with a knowing grin on his face.

“We just tried to get under his skin,” Y/N explained as she looked back into the interrogation room again and saw Emily scribbling down notes as Elliott spoke. “Showed him how much of a coward he is.”

Derek laughed and laid an arm around her shoulders and gave her arm an affectionate clap.

“Well, at least this one went pretty smoothly.”

Both Spencer and Y/N hummed their agreement, two pairs of cheeks burning from an erased moment in time.

“Garcia said that you were hungry,” Spencer said, making Y/N’s attention divert from the case file in front of her to the genius standing with a paper towel in his hand, “so I thought you would like this.”

He gently placed the paper towel on her desk, making sure that it didn’t land on one of the many files that were scattered on the desk. The paper unfolded and inside was a pear, cut up in four pieces, just waiting to be eaten.

All the while she gathered the pieces of fruit and tugged the paper towel closer to her, Spencer was standing, more like hovering over her, a nervous smile tugging at his lips. His hands were tangled together in front of his body, eyes following her every move as she started to munch on the cut-up fruit.

“Thank you, Spence,” she said, half a piece of pear already in her mouth, “this is just what I needed.”

“You’re very welcome,” he said with a big smile on his face, before he gathered a case file from his desk and bounced up the stairs to Hotch’s office.

“He’s never brought me a pear,” a voice pulled Y/N’s attention away from the now closed door, a smile ever so present on her lips as she slowly chewed on the piece of fruit.

“What?” Y/N asked, confused, turning to see Derek and Emily sitting with shit eating grins on their faces.

“Pretty boy,” Derek elaborated gesturing to Hotch’s office, “in the many years I’ve known him, he has never brought me a sliced-up pear.”

“Me neither,” Emily said as she twirled around in her chair.

“Well,” Y/N started to say, very much confused at where the direction of this conversation was going, “maybe he doesn’t know that you guys like pears.”

“I don’t think that’s why,” Derek laughed, throwing the pen he had been playing with in his hand down on his desk.

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked unconsciously, reaching for another piece hidden in the paper towel.

“What are we discussing?” Penelope broke into the conversation, a happy smile on her pink painted lips.

“Nothing,” Y/N was quick to say as she turned her chair back to face her desk, in hopes of ending the conversation before it even began.

“Pretty Ricky had heard from you that dear Y/N was hungry, so he cut up a pear for her,” Derek said, and even with her back to them she could practically hear the smiles on all of their faces.

“I haven’t talked to Reid all day,” Penelope said, happiness practically radiating off of her by the news.

“You haven’t?” At this revelation Y/N was quick to turn her chair around, confusion clear on her face.

“No,” she dragged out the word, letting a giggle slip out at the end.

“Then why would he say that?” Y/N asked as she chewed on another piece, her brows furrowed in confusion.

“Because,” Emily dragged out as she got up and moved to sit on Y/N’s desk, “he needs a middleman.”

“A middleman?” Y/N asked, even more confused.

“Someone to make it seem like he wasn’t noticing that you were hungry based on your behaviour,” Derek explained, sliding his chair closer to Y/N’s desk.

“He’s a profiler,” Y/N mumbled to the rest, “if my behaviour was showing that I was hungry, why would he be embarrassed to just give me something to eat. We’re friends.”

“Actually,” Penelope piped up, finally seeing it as her time to make an input into the conversation, “giving snacks to someone is something many consider a love language.”

Y/N choked on the last piece of pear in her throat and turned around to cough down into the paper towel that was still laying on her desk. Emily laughed as she clapped her between the shoulder blades.

“Guys!” she exclaimed once she had gotten everything under control again, “he just gave me a pear. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Emily sighed as she shrugged her shoulders up to her ears as she looked down at the younger, oblivious agent. “I remember a guy saying that once the pear was an allegory for the heart.”

Silence took its place between the four agents. Three of them with giant smiles on their faces as the fourth was simply staring out in space, trying to solve a puzzle that she didn’t even know existed. Her ears were ringing from the realisation, cheeks heating under the scrutiny from the three others as her mind slowly started to fill to the brim of all of her shared moments with Spencer.

“You think he likes me?” she asked quietly, only daring to let her eyes fall on Penelope, whose face was almost splitting in half from the giant smile on her face.

“Oh, I think ‘like’,” Penelope said as she brought her hands up and made citation quotes around the word, “is an understatement.”

“He said,” Y/N started, keeping her eyes locked with Penelope’s as she started to fiddle with her hands that were resting in her lap, “He said that he knows what it’s like to love something that’s out of reach.”

The group fell silent as they took in the revelation, the three of them waiting for Y/N to continue. “Do you think he was talking about me?”

“Duh!” Penelope practically yelled, which gained the attention of the agents dutifully working around the quartet. “That boy has been in love with you since you first joined the team. And I may not be a profiler,” she continued making her way over to stand next to the chair Y/N was sitting on, “but I think that his feelings are reciprocated.”

Before Y/N had the chance to say anything, the sound of a door slamming shut brought them all out of the small moment they had created between themselves. As she looked up to the landing, she saw Spencer walking down the stairs again.

“What’s going on?” he asked curiously, letting his eyes flicker from Derek’s smirk, to Penelope’s sparkling eyes, to Emily’s suppressed grin and finally to Y/N’s wide eyes.

“Oh nothing,” Penelope was quick to say, “just talking about the upcoming weekend.”

“Oh,” Spencer said as he took a seat in his chair, and let the folder he had with him drop to the desk, “do you have any special plans Garcia?”

“Uh,” she sputtered, clearly not ready to talk herself out of her lie, “yes, I’m going to go antique shopping with Emily.”

“We are?” Emily was quick to but in, disdain clear in her voice from the mere thought of going antiquing.

“Yes! Remember we talked about it a while ago,” Penelope mumbled before dramatically gesturing to the watch hanging on the wall, “would you look at that, I have to go back to my office to do,” she dragged out the words, as the four profilers looked at her with amusement on their faces, “to do hacking things. Bye!”

And before they knew she had hurried out of their eyesight, her blonde hair bobbing up and down as she moved as fast as her heels allowed her to.

“Weird,” Spencer said, sharing a quick smile with Y/N before they all went back to their work. Or, three of them went back to their work.

Y/N spend the rest of her afternoon sifting through every interaction she had ever had with the young doctor, from the moment they had met in this very bullpen, to the first time she had made him laugh over a joke, to the time she had successfully dragged him out to celebrate a successful case with the rest of the team. In the small year they had known each other they had created so many small moments together, so many fond memories that lived in her heart.

And at some point, in the small year, Spencer had managed to worm himself into a part of her heart that she herself didn’t even know existed. Sparks flew out of her finger tips every time they gently touched him. Her heart started to beat faster every time he would smile at her or she would hear his joyous laughter. She started to get lost in the depth of his warm eyes every time they made eye contact, drowning in a sea of honey that she refused to get saved from.

And, unknown to her, she had made herself a home in Spencer’s heart. Her gentle touch seemed to light a fire in him, making him burn to the bone every time her delicate fingers grazed his skin. His smile had become more frequent, and his laughter more boisterous ever since she had joined the team; her mere presence lightening up any gloomy day.

So, there they sat the rest of the sunny afternoon; a boy and a girl so oblivious about the love that flowed so effortlessly between them. She could still taste the lingering taste of the fruit, and she swore her heart fluttered in her chest every time. He could still see the joyful look she had given him when he had handed her the folded-up paper towel, and his heart sang every time it flowed through his mind.

And without either of them noticing, the sunny day ticked by minute for minute. The bullpen had started to empty out for the day, leaving them some of the few agents left.

She could still hear Derek and Emily typing away on their monitors and have occasional chit chat, and out of the corner of her eye she could still see Hotch and Rossi in their respective offices.

As she was finishing up one of her last files, she noticed how Spencer slowly started to pack up for the day.

After a year she had learned his routine for when he would start to head home. Firstly, he would turn off his computer, secondly, he would stack all of his files into a neat pile, ready for when he came in tomorrow, thirdly he would start to pack his bag, double checking he had everything, before finally rising from his chair, putting on his coat and saying goodbye to those who stayed longer than him.

He was in the midst of the fourth step, coat being ready to be put on when they made eye contact over the divider between their desks.

He slowed his actions, taking his time to adjust the lapels on his jacket and picking up his satchel. It was as if everything that had been left unsaid by the two exploded in that moment. All of the gentle touches and the burning fires. All of the loud laughter and the timid smiles. A year worth of love combined into just a five second glance.

“Have a good night,” she said softly, eyes firmly locked with his.

“You too,” he said as he slowly walked by her desk, “see you tomorrow.”

She smiled at him, feeling all of the air leave her lungs when he smiled back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow as well genius,” Morgan called after him loudly, making Spencer walk faster out of the bullpen, and even from where Y/N was sitting, she could see the tips of his ears turn red.

“Y/N,” Emily said firmly when Spencer was out of ear shot.

“Emily,” Y/N said back, refusing to give the two cocky agents what they wanted from her.

“Go after that boy,” she said, walking over and hovering over her with her hands on her hips.

“What?” Y/N asked, still looking down at the paperwork in front of her.

“Are you kidding me? I just saw the two of you practically declaring your love for each other with just one look! And for some reason, you refuse to accept the fact that you two are in love with each other,” she said, one of her hands coming down on the younger agent’s shoulder. “Look, okay, I’m no expert at love or anything, but what the two of you have is something special. And I get it, okay. Love is scary, and with our job we see how easily our loved ones can be torn away from us, so I get it more than anyone that it’s scary to succumb to it. But, and this is just my opinion, it would be foolish to let a love like the one the two of you have go to waste.”

After her monologue Emily made her way back over to her own desk, eyes locked with Morgan, desperate to get him to help him. But before he got the chance, Y/N spoke up timidly.

“If I don’t come back will you finish my paperwork?”

“Yes,” both Emily and Derek said without hesitation, smiles spreading wider and wider when they saw the girl hurrying to grab her back and coat before quickly walking out of the office.

“Fucking finally,” Derek mumbled, letting his eyes follow the young agent out of the double glass doors.

Y/N stood by the elevator, repeatedly pressing the button in hopes of making the machine work any faster. When the doors finally opened, she was greeted by an out of breath Spencer, who looked like he had just run across the parking lot.

“Hi,” he mumbled softly, slowly stepping out of the box as she took a few steps back.

“Hi,” she said, “did you forget something?”

A moment of silence hung between them, both unsure of how to approach the inevitable conversation.

“I-“ he cleared his throat into his fist before continuing, “I don’t know.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling the burning stare of two pairs of eyes on her back.

“I,” he started, his hands hidden in his coat pockets and shoes shuffling around nervously on the floor, but she was quick to interrupt him before he could go on.

“Emily just reminded me of something,” she said, her voice small but confident. “Someone once told me that the pear was an allegory for the heart.”

At her words Spencer’s eyes widened the slightest, and a pretty blush started to paint over his cheekbones.

“That someone would be correct,” his voice was low but clear, intending to keep the conversation strictly between them.

“And you gave me a pear,” she continued, her hands wringing together in front of her. “And someone would say that means that you, in some way, gave me your heart.”

They both stared at each other, oblivious to the gathering that was happening in the bullpen behind them. Emily and Derek had now been joined by Penelope and JJ, all eyes set on the two of them, and even from their distance they could feel the tension between the two almost lovers.

“That’s one way to understand it,” he said, taking a miniscule step closer to her.

“Is it the right way?” she asked, mimicking him and tipping a millimetre closer.

“I think,” he started, letting his hands come up from his coat pockets and let them slowly intertwine with hers. “I think that I gave my heart to you a long time ago.”

“Really?” she moved closer towards him, letting her fingertips spark at the feeling of his gentle touch.

“Yeah,” he nodded, curls falling into his gentle eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” she whispered, squeezing his hands before removing them from his when he nodded his head nervously.

She let them slide up his arms before they found their place on his jaw, soft skin meeting her cold fingers. His arms found their purpose around her soft waist, giving him the opportunity to pull her in closer. She let her eyes roam his face for a second, before she leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. His nose was cold against hers, his lips chapped from the colder weather, but none of it mattered. They stood no comparison to the way his hands were grasping at her waist, or the way she could feel a smile on his lips against hers.

They pulled apart slowly, both of their eyes still closed, both of them just existing in the moment they had created between them.

“I gave you my heart a long time ago too,” she whispered to him, letting her arms wrap around his neck and gave him a tight hug. “But I will be happy to give you a pear as well.”

He laughed at her comment, before he pulled her into another kiss, letting himself taste the sweet taste of pear that lingered on her lips.

“Pears cannot ripen alone. So we ripened together” - Meridel Le Sueur

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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princessofprocrastination · 3 years

Text

You Live In Sweatpants And Hoodies (GeorgeNotFound)

MASTERLIST

pairing : georgenotfound / george x influencer!reader.

summary : george and your fans realize that under all the sweaters, you have a body.

a/n : if you are wondering what dress i was talking about, search up jennie short black dress :)

before social media, you studied law and got a degree in it but ended up not using it due to your social media career sky rocketing.

but you never thought studying was a waste, that could be your backup, after all. social media doesn’t last forever. and you were ready to accept any difficulties since you knew you had plan b.

you, till this day, could not describe what you do on social media. it started with tiktok. everything nowadays started with tiktok. but you were one of the first people who was on it.

and then tiktokers would make their way onto youtube to sustain their “career” and grow. so that’s what you did. you never abandoned that app, though. especially not now, everyone on that app is seriously hilarious.

your content on youtube was all over the place. once, for a video, you talked to weird men on omegle and tinder. another time, you would try different aesthetics on yourself.

but here’s the catch, you’ve never really worn revealing clothes. your mum had always told you to never deprive yourself from what she says “fun young girl things” which is dressing up, or down, in her say and go have fun with your friends.

but since the pandemic hit, you have had no where to go anyways, and you never really liked to show off your body. it’s not that you felt uncomfortable doing it, it’s just that you’ve never had the reason to.

you also didn’t grow up girly. you hated dresses, especially short and tight dresses. and you weren’t a fan of wearing shorts either. you always opted to go comfy.

whenever you post a tiktok, you always wore your signature hoodie and sweatpants that were clearly sizes too big for you. but you liked it, it’s comfortable to sleep in.

and whenever you had to pan down to show your outfits on youtube, you were always caught wearing jeans and a baggy shirt, just styled differently, according to the aesthetic of the video you were filming for.

you heard your phone ring from the couch. you picked it up, knowing who it was anyways. “morning, cutie.” you stared.

“morning b.” george greets you, hair everywhere, clearly just woken up.

you and george met on tiktok, just like all good friends do. he had duetted a tiktok of yours and you found him hilarious. you quickly followed him on every single social media platform he was in. you even set an alarm in case he ever streams and you’re asleep.

you two are close. some would say you two are dating, but you two haven’t figured it out yet. you two didn’t really want to disclose it anyways, you two knew your not so secret feelings for each other, anyways.

remember when he called you ‘b’? yeah that stands for ‘bub’. he thought it would be cute for him to have a different nickname than the usual “baby” or “babe”.

you two actually live very near each other, making it way easier as a couple, but since england was put into a quarantine order, you two didn’t meet often.

some would probably ask why you’d have to set an alarm when he streams when you two clearly are in the same timezone? well, that boy had no sense of time and a terrible sleeping schedule. it amazed you at how early he got up today.

that facetime call lasted about half an hour before you told him you needed to stream on twitch today, to which he responded to you that he’s watch it later.

today, you had a surprise. for the world. you can’t believe you even thought about this but it was about time you showed off to the world what assets you’ve been blessed with.

speaking of showing off. no, you weren’t a particularly insecure person, you were just comfortable in the clothes you’re in. but celebrating the long time you’ve been on social media, and it being your birthday, you thought it might be fitting.

george and you agreed to not make anything special about your birthday. you hated parties and large gatherings, and since you were still in the middle of a pandemic, you used that as an excuse to not go out.

you spent the longest time searching for a good enough outfit for this day. and you found it. you decided to pick a pretty simple dress, a black short dress that went to your mid thigh, that showed off your waist, spaghetti strapped and a little backless.

you walked out the shower, your robe on as you walked to your bathroom counters to dry your hair. you didn’t really bother to style it, just leaving you straight long hair down.

you put on the most basic white sneakers you could find to still make it casual, and you thought it went well together, anyways.

you finished you makeup and took a good look at yourself. you had been aware that you only wore baggy clothes, so this was a huge change. you twirled yourself, feeling confident.

you couldn’t wait for people to have heart attacks.

you sat on your gaming chair, getting ready to start your stream.

before you started your stream, you made sure you left your facecam turned off first.

you went live. chat was confused since this was the first time that you’re not on facecam. all they could see at the moment was the caption “IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!” that you typed on your notes app on your computer.

“hi, chat.” you said, to calm them down a little.

you heard your phone go off, a text notification. which you knew was george since he had a special notification ping on your phone.

it said “did you forget to turn on your cam?”

you laughed at that. “no, chat, i haven’t forgotten to turn on my facecam, just wait for a sec, please.”

you felt giddy, excited for the reactions.

instead of wearing your cute cat headphones, you wore your airpods instead to get the whole look going.

you let out a sigh before moving your mouse cursor to linger on the ‘start recording camera’ button. you clicked on it, before moving your chair back to fully say hi to your chat.

you brought your hands up to wave to the camera. you tilted your head slightly. “soooo, it’s my birthday.” you said.

chat was going crazy so you stopped reading them so you wouldn’t get a headache. the donations went crazy too, but you tried your best to read them all.

you thanked the people who subscribed to you or gifted you subs.

“360 of this dress? sure, i’ll give you a twirl.” you replied a dono.

you stood up, and rolled your gaming chair away so that they can see your whole outfit. you spun around once, quickly telling them where you got the dress from.

you tried to hold your foot on one hand, balancing yourself to show them that you could go casual in this dress too.

what you noticed was that, your phone hadn’t stopped beeping from a text notification, which belonged to the one and only georgenotfound.

and since maybe he noticed that you won’t check your phone, he sent a donation instead.

“WHAT THE FUCK.” the monotoned voice read out the donation, which was from george.

you facepalmed, knowing exactly what his reaction is like at home.

“I’M COMING OVER.” the voice said again. you laughed at his antics.

“see you then.” you replied, laughing, knowing he was joking around anyways.

GEORGE’S POV

she thinks i’m joking, isn’t she?

well, she gave me her spare key for a reason, and this would be the best reason.

i knew i wanted to come around anyways. just after her stream. i promised her no going out, but not no gifts and ordering in.

sneaky, i know.

i had a plan brewing in my mind. to walk in her house as quietly as possible, to surprise her.

after seeing her in that dress, i don’t think i can stand our fans not knowing we aren’t dating.

i know, i haven’t really asked her out, but we kinda both agreed that there was no use, knowing each other’s feeling was good enough and that we didn’t need to do anything extravagant.

i don’t know what she’s tell her fans but i’m sure i hadn’t disclose our relationship. the fans shipped us, sure, but i don’t think i’ve ever said it out loud.

we knew we’d have to say it someday. so i thought, why not today? as i surprised her at her own house.

her fans watching her stream are tweeting at me like crazy. no one had seen her like that. she practically lives in sweats and hoodies, constantly.

the most fitting thing i’ve seen her wear is skinny jeans, but she would always wear a baggy top with it. people always say she drowns in her clothes, but i never complained, she looked good either ways.

but seeing her in that dress, damn. i needed to be there and hug her, kiss her. i couldn’t wait to see her in that dress, right in front of my eyes.

our observant fans or close friends have asked if she dresses the same at home, and my answer always stayed the same. that she lives in baggy clothes.

there are some creepy people out there who would ask that question in a sexual way. thinking i’ve seen her in less. but truthfully, i haven’t. we’re not pass that stage, and we prefer it this way.

what the fans see is what i see on the daily, too.

and no, me going to her house to see her more clearly in that dress doesn’t mean we’re doing anything. i just want to observe her beauty. see what she’s hid from me.

YOUR POV

chat was going crazy over george’s donation. but you still laughed it off. it’s all a joke anyways, him coming over.

he was coming over later, after noon, so he wouldn’t just drop everything to see you right now.

“geez. chill out, chat, george was joking.” you told them.

you sat on your gaming chair more comfortably as you started playing a couple rounds of among us with your fans. you told them not to cheat and watch your stream as they’re playing ad lucky you, they listened.

for some reason, your chat still kept blowing up with george comments. maybe they were still caught up on that comment he said earlier.

but you hadn’t thought that he’d be behind you the entire time, telling the chat to not make it obvious.

“happy birthday, b” you heard a very familiar voice from behind you.

you almost had a whiplash from how quick you turned your head to see who was behind you.

you stood up to hug him, almost falling to the floor, stumbling on your own feet.

with the way you ran to him, he almost fell to the floor. “you’re here, you’re here.” you kept repeating it to him, not believing that he actually came. you knew he’d come later, but not this early.

george moved you back gently to see your full outfit. you two were aware that the facecam is still on, and pointing to you two, seeing every move.

“come here.” he whispered to you before grabbing your waist, to kiss you.

you two took a little while enjoying each other’s company, still in front of everyone on twitch.

he moved you back a little, turning you to face your gaming monitors. “MY GIRLFRIEND, EVERYBODY. isn’t she so hot, oh my god.” he said to the stream.

you laughed at his stupid antics, covering your face with your hands as you blushed.

your chat didn’t stop talking about the interaction, not believing that their ship was finally sailing.

you played a couple more rounds of among us with them, george taking over sometime or making funny comments to entertain your chat while you played.

after the stream, george and you took time to enjoy the time alone, ordering in your favourite food and opening gifts that he bought you.

you forgot to mention that both of your twitter was blowing up too much that you had to mute it for a while. you knew that a lot had screenshot the cute moment.

you took note to screenshot some of the photos on twitter later.

#georgenotfound #georgenotfound imagine #georgenotfound imagines #georgenotfound x reader

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lsholland · 3 years

Text

London Lights (pt. 1) - Tom Holland

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (1st person)

Genre: Party!Tom

Warnings: swearing; alcohol; nothing much but I don’t recommend -18 to read.

Word count: 1.9k

Author’s note: Hey guys! That’s my first story on this blog. I hope you’ll like it. I’m not native so there may be a few mistakes. I’m trying a new genre of fiction. It’s my first Tom Holland fiction. It’ll be a series of 2-3 chapters. If you want to be part of the master list for Tom please like this post and message me.

Synopsis: Quarantine has been tough. I’ve lost my boyfriend, and I’m feeling lonely. Clubs and restaurants are open again, but I feel like it’ll never be like it used to. My friends have been pushing me to install Tinder and go on dates. Well, tonight, I’m going on a date. I don’t really want to but I’m going to try and have fun for once. Just a few drinks and I’ll go home. What else could happen?

PS. You can read the story on Wattpad.

What am I doing here? I think to myself.

I matched with this guy on this famous dating app . . . And now I'm supposed to meet him here, at this bar. But I don't want to. I'm just hoping he won't show up so I can escape from this shit-place.

I've been seated at the table for a good 5 minutes. The waitress cleans up the table next to mine and asks if I'm ready to order.

No, I want to leave.

I quickly glance at the drinks menu.

"Ehm . . . A pour over Irish coffee, please."

She nods and leaves. I don't even know what I just ordered. I hope it tastes good. Hopefully it'll make me drunk enough not to remember this awful date.

It hasn't even started yet.

I'm sweating.

"Hey there" says a husky voice right behind me.

I turn around and see my date. His name is Jordan. He's good-looking and I bet he's intelligent, but I don't have this feeling with him. I don't know why I accepted to go on a date in the first place. It's awkward.

"Hey!" I grin.

"Have you ordered something already?" he asks, touching his short, clean beard. "I'm thirsty!"

He looks nice.

The waitress hands me my third drink. They help the clock tick a little faster.

He's been talking about his job, his passions. He loves football and practises daily. He has 2 sisters and lives in Camberwell.

Cute.

For a moment, I feel sad for him. He drove all the way to this East London bar, put effort trying to look nice and being cool . . . and yet, he doesn't know it but he has no chance to get lucky tonight. Not with me.

I shouldn't be sorry.

But I am.

I glance around looking for something that might be a little more entertaining than him. I realise I've avoided eye contact since he arrived. I finally glimpse at him. He has beautiful hazel eyes.

Still not enough.

I quickly check my phone. It's getting late. I don't know how to end this.

"Look," I slightly bend over the table. "I'm so sorry but I don't feel like it tonight"

"I noticed." He smirked. "Kinda awkward, innit?"

I chuckle. I am so embarrassed.

"It's okay, though." He added. "I'm just trying to meet new people. I broke up with my ex-girlfriend a few weeks ago. My mates told me I should try these apps."

Okay, now I feel worse than ever. He's been so nice with me and that's how I treat him. I grab my drink and gulp it down.

I shouldn't have done this.

"Let's go dance. I owe you one." I say as I grab his hand and walk towards the dancing area. It becomes difficult to keep my head straight.

I'm drunk, I must admit.

I'm going to regret it, my sober-self shouts in my head.

I don't care is what I reply.

The dancing area is not crowded, but there are already a few people. Most of them are girls.

Girls . . . I wish my friends were not so busy all the time. I would've come to this bar with them instead of wasting my time with strangers.

I start dancing. I stare at him. He looks amused.

A group of guys join the dancefloor and all the girls on my right start screaming. It's so high pitched I cringe.

"What the fuck guys?" I shout, trying to focus on the music.

"Woah, that's Spider-Man!" says my date. He grabs my chin and makes me look in his direction.

No way, I think. It's actually him.

I know he lives in the area, but I've never met him before. It's always weird to see movie stars in real life. They look so much more attractive.

He is so much more attractive.

I try not to be a drunk fangirl and shyly wave to him. He doesn't notice.

"You wanna go and take a picture with him?" my date asks.

"Oh, no, no!" I answer. I'm blushing. "I don't even know what I'd tell him."

He laughs.

The worst thing that could happen is to annoy him during a night out. He needs privacy and I must respect it.

But it's so difficult.

I can't stop staring at him. I don't even control it. Being drunk doesn't help.

"D'you want a beer?" I ask my date whose name I completely forgot.

He nods.

I weave my way through the crowd. I can't believe there are so many people on the dancefloor. The area is so busy since the Spider-Man actor walked in.

Even the bar area is crowded.

I let my body rest against a barstool but quickly lose balance and almost fall on the dirty floor. The flickering lights are making me feel dizzy. I grip the counter and get up. I peer around to make sure nobody saw me.

He did.

I dust off my dress trying to save the dignity I have left.

"Want something?" someone asks behind me. I turn around, it's the barman.

"Two pints of Guinness, please."

I glance back at the same spot, but he's gone. It must've been a dream. I'm so drunk I can't trust everything I think I see.

I'm grabbing both my drinks and look around trying to find my date, but there are too many people. I take a sip of my beer and hold the other one above my head.

Someone hits my arm.

Oh no.

"Oh my God I'm so sorry!" yells the drunk blond girl.

I look at my dress. It's soaking wet. I politely smile at her. "It's okay," I mouth.

What a mess. I glance at the lavatory door. I need to go and save my dress.

"You haven't been lucky here."

I turn around to find out who's talking to me.

It's him. Tom Holland. Talking to me.

"What?" is all I manage to say.

"Do you need a hand?" he politely asks.

I blush so much it's noticeable in the dark.

I'm choking. I'm panicking.

I give him my two beers and walk towards the lavatory. I'm surely starstruck. And drunk. This isn't a good mix.

Once in the room, I grab a handful of tissues and try to soak up my dress. I groan. Did I expect to make that beer mark disappear? Yes. Did it work? Of course not.

I watch my face in the mirror.

I look like shit, I think.

A door slams shut. Two young girls just walked in.

"OH, MY G—THAT'S TOM HOLLAND!" shouts one. They are both panting.

I roll my eyes.

Oh . . . I've given him my beers. What about my date?

"Shit!" I hiss.

I violently open the door and frown my eyebrows as the lights blind me.

He's just here gazing at me. Two beers in his hands. One of them is half empty, the rest being displayed on my dress.

"I'm so sorry!" I say embarrassed as ever.

He smirks. "No worries." He hands me the full glass of beer.

I give him a questioning look as I grab it. What about the other one? Oh, right—He's drinking it.

"What's your na—"

I stop him.

"I know who you are." I peer down. "I'm sorry I didn't wanna disturb you" I say as I'm walking away.

This time I'm smart enough to avoid the crowd on my way out.

"That's rude to leave without saying goodbye!" Tom shouts from a distance.

I turn around and stare at him. He's got a soft smile; he doesn't look drunk at all. I wave him goodbye.

Now, he's approaching me.

"I meant to your boyfriend" he nods in the direction of my date who was dancing with a group of other people.

"He's not my—" is all I can say before he chuckles.

"I figured."

"How?" I clench my jaw. I'm hypnotised by his hand running through his hair. And his smile. And his lips.

"I can barely hear you," he points at a booth in the corner of the room "maybe we could sit there" he suggests.

My mouth softens into a smile.

It's difficult to walk with Tom Holland. Every couple of seconds he's stopped by fans requesting a picture. And he accepts every time.

I'd never be so patient.

"What's that?" he asks.

"It must be so annoying sometimes." I tell him as I sit on the booth.

"When they're nice and ask me, it's cool." He chooses to sit next to me. I can feel his arm touching mine. My heart is racing. He uses his other arm to hold his chin; he looks at me with so much intensity. Sometimes peering down my lips.

His face is so close, but he keeps talking. I can feel his breath on my skin. I'm going to burst into flames. "But when they're taking pictures without asking first, that's delicate."

I nod. I can't really listen to what he's talking about. I'm trying not to lose control.

"So, what's your name?"

He smiles when I tell him. "Why did you leave your date alone?" he asks.

I'm so nervous I stutter. I can't find my words. "I . . . I wasn't in the mood. He knows it. I shouldn't have come here."

"I'm happy you came." He says looking me in the eyes.

I raise my eyebrows. "Are you flirting with me?"

He barks out a laugh and breaks the eye contact. He rests his head on the wall behind us.

He isn't as confident as I thought he'd be. I don't know what's up with him, but I enjoy it.

I suddenly remember he's a movie star. He's always being watched. I glance at the crowd and see flashing lights. They're taking pictures of us.

I'm getting dizzier.

I don't want to see my face on a dumb article talking about Tom Holland's mysterious partner. I don't even know him.

"This is stupid" I mumble.

Tom is intrigued. He hasn't got a clue what I'm talking about. He hasn't even noticed the fans stalking him.

"I'm sorry, I gotta go" I abruptly say as I stand up. "Have a good night."

I grab my phone and leave the venue. I'm upset because I really wish I could've met him in a different context. I open my Uber app: there's no driver available.

Shit.

How's that even possible on a Friday night? In London?

I refresh the app, but it doesn't work. I guess I'll have to walk home.

A part of me wants to go back in this bar and spend time with Tom. He's sweet and I'm sure we would've had so much fun together. I glance through the window trying to see his face one last time, but I can't find him.

"What are you looking for?"

I cringe.

"Oh, sorry I didn't mean to startle you."

It's him. It's Tom.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"Going home too. The fun of the party is leaving . . ." he sighs. I smile back at him. I'm embarrassed.

I stand in front of him, none of us say a word. It's awkward. I'm getting anxious and walk away. I'm so overwhelmed.

He grabs my shoulder. "Wait, are you walking home?"

"Yeah, it's okay don't worry." I smile.

"I can drive you home."

"Sorry, but you've been drinking. I won't let you drive me." I curtly say.

He grins. He looks at one of his mates and nods.

"No way I'm letting you walk home alone," he sighs "besides, you're drunk."

"Come with me then" I instantly reply without thinking.

He nods.

What?

He's coming with me. My heart is racing. I won't survive a 30-minute drunk walk with him.

Not with his beautiful glossy eyes staring at me.

Not with my burning desire to kiss him.

#tom holland #London lights fic #Tom Holland one shot #tom holland fiction #Tom Holland imagine #Tom Holland x reader

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cosmicluka · 3 years

Text

Digital Lover

Anime: Haikyuu

Character: Kenma Kozume

Warnings: None

(y/n)plays is live now!

You adjusted your headphones as you shifted in your chair, seeing your face pop up beside the Genshin Impact opening page. “Alright! While people join in, we’ll start collecting the daily rewards.” You moved to your keyboard to set about doing your daily tasks while watching your viewer number shoot up. You greeted them with a smile while you moved your character to the Adventurer's Guild to get the rewards of the day. After they had been collected, you moved your attention to the chat, where you saw multiple comments asking you to visit other worlds, hoping that one of them would be able to play with you. “So is that what we’re going to do today? That sounds fun! Let’s go carry some people.” You laughed and clicked the co-op button.

“Oh! A Noelle account! Let’s see. Kozukenken, will you let me join your world?” A few moments went by and there was no change in the screen, so you prepared to find a different account when you were suddenly transported to the new world. “Nice! We’re in.” Your character loaded next to the other’s Fischl in the middle of Mondstat. Clicking open the chat, you were quick to send the first message.

(y/n)plays: hey!

(y/n)plays: need help with anything?

Kozukenken: electro hypostasis maybe

Kozukenken: i’ve only been playing for a week so i’m still working on building

(y/n)plays: ofc i’ll help. Let’s go!

“This is it, guys. Finally a chance to show off my new babies!” You cheered, going to change out your characters to Rosaria and Yanfei before you met your new partner near the hypostasis’s location. Awkwardly running around each other for a moment, you both took that as your cue to start the fight. Your partner had their Noelle and Qiqi on their team, which you let them use for a few before you got a chance to use your ‘ult’ skill from both of your girls which finished off the hypostasis, the flower growing nearby. “Ha! One shot! I’m almost as hot as Papi Tartaglia now, huh?” You giggled as you read over the comments, each talking about the previous fight and comparing you to the other well-known players who main Tartaglia and Zhongli.

From there, the two of you fought a few more bosses, hit a couple of domains, and wiped out a handful of hilichurl groups guarding chests, all the while, you both making jokes back and forth to each other through the chat. Your stream chat was blowing up, though you didn’t notice while you were distracted by your partner. If you had just paid attention to the chat for a moment, you would have realized what your viewers did. You just happened to be playing with one of the highest viewed streamers on Twitch.

Hours must’ve passed that you played with ‘kozukenken’ and finally you left their world before you said goodbye to all of the people who had watched you stream. Logging off, you took a deep breath and rubbed your eyes, not realizing how much they were hurting until you took them off of your screen. You went to your bathroom to begin the process of getting ready to go to sleep since it was nearing three o’clock in the morning when your phone chimed to alert you about a new message on Discord. Opening your screen to see the Genshin Impact loading screen you had forgotten to click off of earlier, you almost exited the app when you saw a red exclamation mark by the Paimon Menu. Clicking on it, you saw that you had an unaccepted friend request from the player that you had just finished playing with. With a giddy smile, you accepted it and moved to check Discord.

The two of you talked for a while the next day on voice chat and you learned that he lived only an hour away from you. You also happened to learn exactly who he was when you checked out the link to his Twitch and realized he was one of the streamers that inspired you to start streaming yourself, though you didn’t recognize his username at first. After a brief moment of panic, which he had the audacity to laugh at you for, he made the suggestion of streaming together one day. You were quick to agree.

“So since we’ll be streaming soon, we should plan a day and time.”

“Yeah! And what we’re going to be doing.”

“So I have an idea. Let’s see who can get the most hilichurls. If you win, you get a special tour of my teapot.”

“Kenma! That’s awfully bold! We just met and you’re already trying to show me your teapot; how scandalous!”

“I- that’s- wait.. I didn’t mean.. That’s not-”

“I know what you meant, Mr. Freaky.”

“You know what I meant, (Y/N). I’m going to sleep since you have nothing better to do than tease me.”

“It’s just too easy, Kenma. Anyway, I’ll talk to you later!”

He hung up the call, leaving you staring at your phone slightly awestruck. He wanted to game with you again. You found a hard time comprehending that. Letting out a laugh of disbelief, you flopped back on your bed and closed your eyes until a ping from Discord let you know of a new message.

Kozukenken: “I’m looking forward to our teapot date :)”

I swear Kenna’s Genshin team is Noelle as the DPS, Fischl as Sub DPS, Jean as support, and Qiqi as healer bc you know he’s not f2p 😩

Also, I used my main team for the reader which is Xiao as DPS, Yanfei for Sub DPS, Venti as support, and Bennett as healer

Part 2 will be up soon!

#haikyuu #kozume kenma #kenma #kenma x reader #haikyuu x reader #part 1 #series #fan fic #timesskip au #time skip #au #Genshin impact #co op #teapot #serenitea

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imaginedhaven · 3 years

Text

Reluctantly Rooming: Part Twelve

Link to Masterpost

I didn’t think I’d have this done so quickly, but here we are!

Content/Warning: While not intended to be a main focus of the work, this chapter does contain discussion of sexual orientation and the revelation of a side character as a trans man (who is almost assuredly not trans in the original canon). While I definitely want to be as respectful as possible even though I’m only barely broaching the topic, I cannot claim to be trans myself, so if I’ve gotten something wrong in my admittedly-minimal talk about it please tell me!

Today’s prompts:

Aelin getting stood up for a date

and

Inappropriate exclamations during an innocent massage

~*~*~

Aelin crossed her legs, leaning forward with an interest she was struggling to feel. “So, Ilias, you said you’re here for work? What is it you do?”

Ilias grinned a little too sharply at her, amusement flashing in sea-green eyes. “I work in… private security. I’m afraid I can’t say more than that.”

“Right.” She began to fidget with the skewer that had held her drink’s cherry, searching for something else to say.

“You seem uncomfortable. Want to get out of here?”

Oh gods, was he really…? Yes, he was leaning in, and the way his eyes flitted down her torso and then back up meant he was saying exactly what she thought he was saying.

“You know, if I’m being honest I don’t know if this is going to work,” she blurted out. “I mean, with you being based so far west of here, and traveling all over for your work… I’m not looking for forever on a first date, but maybe something a bit more stable than that.”

Ilias’ brow furrowed, then he nodded with an easy grin. “Fair enough. I definitely can’t promise stable.”

~*~*~

It had been a while since Aelin had been on a date with a woman, but she knew without a doubt that wasn’t the cause of the nerves settling in the pit of her stomach as golden eyes flashed at her from the barstool beside her. “Can I ask you a question that’s probably a bit rude?”

Her companion—Manon, that was her name—merely raised an amused eyebrow.

Aelin blurted out the question that had been at the tip of her tongue for the past several minutes. “Do you find that people being both scared and turned on is a normal reaction around you, or is it just me?”

Manon smirked, flicking her platinum braid over her shoulder. “It’s what I aim for,” she replied with a flash of sharp teeth.

Aelin laughed. “Okay, if I’m being honest we’re probably a terrible romantic match, but I like you. This is probably weird, since we’re on what’s supposed to be a date, but I have this friend who I think would absolutely love you…” Aelin trailed off, scrolling through the pictures on her phone.

Pointed nails dug into her shoulder as Manon peered at the screen. “I’m interested.”

Aelin blinked. “I haven’t told you anything about Elide.”

“I can see what I need to know about her from the way she’s holding herself in that picture. I’m willing to meet if she is.”

“I’ll introduce you on the condition that you teach me that trick you used on the guy you passed on your way in.”

“Deal.”

“You’re the best.”

“I know.”

~*~*~

Aelin sighed from the corner of the bar, shaking her head as Lysandra gave her a questioning stare. Ress was late. Incredibly late, not just something she could attribute to traffic.

She swirled the whiskey in her glass, watching the amber liquid to stop herself from checking her phone for the fifth time in as many minutes. He would show up if and when he showed up, and she was determined to not be bothered by it even though it bothered her immensely.

Maybe she should take Lysandra up on her offer to set her up. It couldn’t be worse than her experience trying to find people on dating apps.

Finally, her phone chimed as the screen lit up with an unfamiliar number. Aelin, it’s Ress. I’m so sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. There’s been a huge disaster at work and apparently I’m the one who gets to clean it up.

Aelin sighed. Well, at least he’d texted her.

~*~*~

“Three flops in as many weeks, Lysandra, I think I’m cursed.” Aelin sighed and nestled further into the couch. “I mean, I went on a run today to try and calm down. Who goes on runs?”

“Rowan goes on runs,” her friend replied wickedly. “And I told you from the start that dating apps were hit or miss. This isn’t college anymore.”

“I didn’t have to worry about it in college,” she reminded her.

“That’s right, you were doing that thing with Sam where you thought you were a lesbian and Sam hadn’t fully come to the realization that he was a guy yet. You know, I still can’t believe you two wound up staying friends after how that fell out.”

Aelin grimaced. Some days she couldn’t quite believe it, either; she had hardly been graceful about it in college. “It took a lot of distance and a lot of growing up,” she admitted. “And a lot of admitting that I said a lot of things I didn’t mean.”

“Anyhow, if you’re ready to hear my ideas, I could set you up with Archer.”

Aelin frowned, rubbing at a sudden cramp in her calf muscles. “Is that a person’s name, or a profession?”

“It’s his name. I can help you with that, if you want.” Lysandra leaned forward and took over, deftly massaging her leg.

“And how exactly do you know this Archer?”

“I worked with him at that massage parlor in Rifthold.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?” Lysandra’s brow furrowed in confusion.

Aelin scowled. “No one from Rifthold.”

Green eyes softened in understanding. “He’s not like—”

“I don’t care. No.”

Thankfully, her friend dropped it there, instead focusing on working the knot out of her sore muscles. “I could also set you up with Rowan.”

Aelin groaned. “Oh gods, Lys. No.”

“What do you have to lose?”

“My dignity? My ability to live with him, and therefore my home?” She turned her head just enough to glare at her friend, otherwise remaining practically boneless as she sprawled across the couch.

Lysandra laughed. “You think Aedion wouldn’t kick him out over you?”

“I don’t want it to come to that. So no, you’re not setting me up with him.”

“But you could go on runs together, and when you push yourself too hard he could probably carry you home.”

“You’re a terrible influence. Remind me why we’re friends again?”

“Because you’re a worse one,” her friend grinned. “Besides, I can do this.”

A few deft strokes of Lysandra’s hands had the tension leaving her leg, and she moaned in relief. “Gods, that feels so good.”

“See? Everyone likes my hands, they’re one of my best features.”

“Don’t get all smug with me—yes, right there!”

A loud noise near the doorway had them both freezing and looking over, only to discover that Rowan had gotten home early and looked absolutely mortified. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Aelin, you have a room.”

Aelin blushed hotly as she played back the last several moments of their conversation. Exactly how much had he heard? Hopefully it was just the last part; as awkward as it was, it was easier to explain than her misplaced attraction to him. “As trite as this sounds, it’s not what it looks like.”

“So you haven’t brought one of your recent dates home?” As odd as it was to think, she was relieved by the scowl on his face; the expression combined with his words indicated that he hadn’t heard them talking about him.

“Gods, no. This is Lysandra. From the bar, remember?”

Bless her, Lysandra stood and waved with a grin. She was less thrilled with what her friend proceeded to say, though. “Your friend here pushed too far running and hurt her leg. I was just helping with that.”

Immediately Rowan’s gaze fixated on her legs, obviously searching for any obvious sign of injury. Aelin sighed. “I’m fine, buzzard. It was just a muscle cramp.”

He nodded, the motion sharp and jerky, and strode into the kitchen, fetching a glass of water with almost mechanical precision. “I guarantee you didn’t drink enough water before you ran. This should help prevent it from coming back.”

She scowled, but obediently sipped from the glass after he handed it to her. “I thought you weren’t supposed to right before running. Doesn’t that upset your stomach?”

“I’m talking about yesterday, Aelin. You should be keeping well-hydrated on a daily basis if you’re going to take up running.”

“You just want me to drink more water,” she accused. “That sounds made up.”

“Just try it,” he replied. “You’ll thank me later.”

Her head jerked back toward the living area at the sound of a door closing, only to find that Lysandra had taken the opportunity to quietly let herself out. Her friend grinned and waved from the driveway when she saw her, clearly realizing she was caught and utterly unrepentant.

Aelin sighed and turned back to Rowan, who was watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite identify. “You’re really okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “I just needed something to help me not think for a while after these shit dates I’ve been on lately, and I’m told drinking alone is a sign of having a problem.”

The corner of his lips quirked up in the barest hint of a smile. “They must’ve been really bad, to make you consider running as a viable option.”

Aelin shrugged. “I mean, I’ve had worse, but I’ve also had better? It was just one miss after another, you know?”

He glanced at her again, then turned toward the refrigerator. “I think I have everything we need to make pasta, if that’ll help you feel better.”

“You’d actually make me pasta?” She frowned; there had to be some kind of catch. There was no way he would simply allow that many carbs to be on his stovetop at the same time.

“I would,” he replied, heading toward the pantry and grabbing…

“Wait, that’s not pasta,” she blurted out. Gods, she knew there was a catch.

He laughed, rolling up his sleeves before grabbing their eggs as well. “It’s not pasta yet.”

“You can’t seriously mean—” There was no way he was actually making pasta from scratch. There was a reason it came in boxes, she was sure of it.

“I can and I do. Now either stop talking and watch or get out of my kitchen.”

Aelin chose to watch, and the play of muscles in his forearms as he made and kneaded his own pasta dough was almost enough to make her forget about why she’d thought it was a good idea to try dating again in the first place.

Almost.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou @mymultiversee @swankii-art-teacher @rowansfirebringer @livsdriverslicense @courtofjurdan @danibutterr @woollycat22 @rowaelinismyotp @sleeping-and-books @acciowests @stardelia @anidealiveson

#rowaelin #haven writes #reluctantly rooming

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berrynarrybanana · 3 years

Text

sounds just like a song - ws pt. 3

A/N: This is a rewrite...I did not edit...and I just...might have added a few things that some people will hate me for. I love you all though :)

Warnings: Mentions of ex girlfriends, mentions of bullying, self doubt, smut for sure, alcohol obvi, and...maybe other stuff?

Word count: 10K

Watermelon Sugar masterlist

July 14, 2018 Bea’s POV

“I find it kind of hysterical that we had to sneak off to a bathroom to say goodbye properly.” I let out a series of girlish giggles, dropping my head against the door as Harry continued to kiss down my neck. “Harry-”

“I don’t want to say goodbye yet.” His words were muffled by the skin of my neck. “Give me five more minutes.”

“Champagne makes you needy.” I gasped, lifting my hips up when he bit a little harder than the few times before, his tongue immediately swiping over the skin. “Fuck, that feels so nice.”

“I bet it does.” He hummed out, his chest vibrating under my palms as he tilted his head up to nip at my earlobe. “I can’t wait to have you all to myself.”

“Believe me, I can’t either.” I pressed my palms against his chest, slightly holding him back from my body. “But you have to get to soundcheck eventually, and I have plans with the girls.”

“I know.” He sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. “I just….fuck, I think I’d take you with me everywhere if I could.”

“I’d gladly follow if I didn’t have prior engagements.” I gave him a soft smile, brushing my thumb over the collar of his shirt. “We’ll only be apart for a few hours, that’s not so bad.”

“It can be when we know our time is limited together.” He nibbled on his lower lip. “We only have until Tuesday-”

“Which means we still have three days.” I reminded him. “Besides, I’ve spoken to Claire about Saturday, and I think I might be able to sneak away.”

“Yeah?” His brows lifted, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Well, I guess it’s a date then.”

“I guess so.” I chuckled. “Now, give me one more good kiss before I go.”

Harry smirked, his dimple flashing as he leaned forward like a shark chasing after it’s prey.

🐙🐙🐙🐙

Harry’s POV

I pressed the key to my Tesla into Bea’s palm as I kissed her forehead.

“Don’t argue with me.” I whispered, glancing down at her as she squinted up at me. Her empty hand rose to her forehead, shielding her sensitive, blue eyes from the california sun . “Just take my car so you don’t have to uber around, and we can drive it home tonight from the venue.”

“But Harry.” She sighed, licking over her bottom lip as she looked back at my car. “That thing costs more than...well, everything I own.”

“Shut up.” I snorted, rolling my eyes at her before I stole another kiss. “Take it, okay? It’s just a car, and it literally can drive itself. If you have any questions about it, just shoot me a text and I’ll respond.”

“This is unnecessary, but I really appreciate the gesture.” She smiled. “Thank you for not leaving us stranded.”

“I would never.” I pressed one more kiss to her lips, my fingers squeezing her sides. “Alright, go have fun with your friends. Send me a few pictures while you’re out, yeah?”

“I will.” She took a step back, watching me with an almost sad smile. “I’ll see you in a few hours, darling.”

“I’ll see you in a few hours.” I repeated back to her. “Be safe, and have fun.”

“You too.”

I turned on my heel, checking both ways before I jogged across the street to the car Gemma and Michael drove to brunch. I slipped into the passenger side, shutting the door with a quick huff as I reached for my seatbelt. I looked across the street as Bea turned to Claire, her arms crossing over her abdomen as the wind blew her long cardigan around her body.

“She’s a wonderful girl.” Gemma gave me a smile, her eyes practically sparkling. “Mum thinks so too.”

“You’ve told Mum about her?” I asked her, pushing my sunglasses up with raised brows as Gem smiled wider. “Gemma, tell me-”

“I didn’t tell Mum, The Daily Mail did.” Gemma rolled her eyes, putting the car in drive before she pulled out of her parking spot. “The bloody paps have already sold pictures of us at brunch to the rags, and I guess a few fans got some snapshots of you and Beatrice entering and leaving the bathroom.”

“Grand.” I huffed, slumping in my seat. “I didn’t want that for her.”

“Harry, she’s a smart girl.” Gemma said. “She knows what she’s getting into with you. She might not know the extent of what she’s getting into, but she knows enough about it.”

“I just don’t want them to chase her off.” I mumbled, pulling my phone out of my pockets, pressing my finger to the home button. “She’s got such a good heart, Gemma. She doesn’t deserve to have her name raked through the mud because of some asshole like me.”

“She doesn’t think you’re an asshole, and I guarantee if I asked her right now, she would say that you're worth it.” Gemma glanced at me with furrowed brows. “Don’t be bothered by it, Harry. Beatrice seems like a strong girl, and she’s got a decent sized support group to look after her.”

I sighed, biting my lower lip before I nodded.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” I whispered. “I just can’t help but worry about her.”

“I think that’s natural.” Gemma hummed out. “But I do have to say, this is the first time you’ve ever been worried about your bird and not yourself when it comes to being in the papers. You aren’t even a little bit annoyed that they plastered your face on the front page.”

“I couldn’t care less about myself right now.” I cleared my throat. “She’s not used to this, I am.”

“Well, maybe you should just have a talk about it.” Gemma said. “And you should definitely call Mum before she decides to fly over here to meet Bea herself.”

🐝🐝🐝🐝

Bea’s POV

“Do you think I can pull this off?” I held the maroon colored bodysuit up, twisting the hanger around as I looked at the lack of fabric. “I mean, it’s really cute, but I’m just-”

“Perfect in every way, shape, and form.” Tara pressed her hands to my shoulders, kissing my cheek as I rolled my eyes at her. “I think you would fucking kill in that thing, babe. It’s perfect for your body shape.”

“My body shape is blob, Tara.” I glanced back at her with a wild expression, shaking my head as she laughed. “What could I do for this thing?”

“You have a fucking hourglass figure.” Jackson snorted out a laugh. “And you keep it locked up all the time, so let it out.”

“But I have a tummy.” I lowered the bodysuit, turning towards my friends. “Won’t that look a little unflattering if I just walk around with my stomach sticking out? And my arms-”

“Go put the damn thing on.” Tara carefully ushered me towards the dressing room, snagging a belt and a leather jacket along the way. “Try it, I think you’ll like it.”

I inhaled sharply, pushing the velvet curtain aside before I slid it shut again. I put the items down on the bench in front of the mirror, wiping my palms on my pants as I tried to soothe my nerves. It wasn’t like I was anxious about trying on clothes, I just hated the entire process. I had to undo my shoes, slide my pants off, put the bodysuit on, and then put my pants back on. After I finished all of that, I’d have to do it over again to get redressed. I started the process, balancing my hand against the wall as I stood on one foot. It took me a few minutes, but when I finally finished getting into the bodysuit, I looked at my jeans with a heavy frown.

“Hey, Tara?” I moved the curtain aside, catching her attention. “Can you find me black jeans? I don’t think this shade of blue is gonna look good with the maroon.”

“Yeah, give me a sec.” She turned on her heel, strutting towards the jeans without a care in the world.

I pulled the curtain back before I turned to face the mirror.

The bodysuit had a bottom that was far more comfortable than any other bodysuit I’d worn. It was almost as if it had a pair of boyshorts at the bottom, the material stretchy and comfortable as I moved around. I especially enjoyed the zipper on the side that made it easy to slip on. I didn’t have to flail around like a fish out of water to pull it over my hips or to get it zipped up either. It was absolutely perfect, and the more that I looked at myself in it, the more I loved it.

I twisted and turned, looking at myself from different angles as I waited for Tara to return with a pair of jeans for me. As I turned around, admiring my bum in the pair of cheeky boy shorts, an idea popped into my head. Harry did ask me to send him pictures throughout the day so that he would feel like he was with me. I rolled my lips in, holding back a giddy laugh as I thought of sending him a picture of me in just the bodysuit. It was quite a scandalous idea to me, though I knew there were people who’d sent pictures of far more intimate things to their boyfriends.

I nibbled on the inside of my cheek as the wheels in my brain turned. On one hand, I knew that Harry would never say anything insulting to me about my picture. He would never point out a flaw, or offer a backhanded compliment. He would tell me that he loved it no matter what I sent, I knew that...but I was still nervous to show him my body in such a vulnerable state.

I didn’t even know how to pose for those types of things, and surely someone else would need my dressing room before I finished figuring out the perfect post. I hesitated, my heart beating faster and faster in my chest. I finally grabbed my phone with a heavy exhale, trying my best to expel all of the negative energy from my body as I swiped over to my camera app.

I held the phone up, tilting myself to the side before I looked at the screen of my phone.

I groaned when I saw how I actually looked in the bodysuit.

My legs were far too short, and my skin was far too pale.

I looked like an old picture of me as a chubby child in a bathing suit, my stomach pushing out ever so slightly and the skin of my thighs dimpled. I rolled my eyes, pushing away the tight feeling in my chest as I lowered my phone down. It was no use even trying to take a picture of myself for Harry. The lighting of the dressing room wasn’t exactly helping me too much either.

“If you want to take a picture, you weren’t doing it right.” Tara’s voice interrupted me, causing me to jump as I looked back at her. “You need to learn your angles, babe.”

“How long have you been standing there?” I asked, pressing my hand to my chest.

“I walked in when you started pouting at your phone.” She snorted out a laugh, tossing the jeans onto the bench. “Give me your phone.”

“I don’t think-”

“Listen to the master.” She glared at me, holding her finger in the air. “Do exactly as I say, and we’ll get the perfect set of naughty pics for your man.”

“Tara-” I felt my cheeks growing warm, my eyes growing wide as she swirled her finger around.

“Turn around and drop it girl, Harry will literally have a heart attack.” Tara said.

“I’ve never dropped it, and I never will.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not….I don’t like my ass, okay?”

“It is one of your best features, babe.” Tara looked at me over my phone, a soft look in her eyes as she sighed. “Do you feel insecure?”

“No, I just…” I shifted on my bare feet. “I’m just not as confident as I could be, that’s all. I’m working on it.”

“I truly think this will help.” Tara said softly. “We’ll save dropping it low for the wedding pictures, okay? For now, just… turn towards the mirror and stick your left over your right...that’s perfect Bea! Now just turn your head to the side, hold your hands in front of your stomach, and glance back at me like you’re modest.”

“I am modest, you heathen.” I grumbled, following her instruction as she snapped a few pictures. “How did that look?”

“Perfect.” She said. “Your hair did a lot of work, and we got the perfect shot of your ass without making it the focus.”

“Oh my god, I don’t want to see it.” I groaned, turning towards her with a pout on my lips. “Can you see-”

“How positively exquisite you look in that bodysuit?” She asked. “Yes, you can. Now put the pants on and sit on the bench for me.”

I did as she said, sitting down on the edge before I crossed my legs. I extended them out, pressing my palms to the edge of the bench before I turned my head just like Tara asked me too. I wasn’t sure how she managed to avoid putting herself in the photo, but she did an excellent job of getting me in a raw, natural state with a smile on my face.

When we were done playing around, I changed back into my old clothes before tossing the bodysuit, the belt, and the jeans over my arm. All three articles of clothing would be going home with me, and they would carry this memory with them forever. Tara handed me my phone back with a proud smirk, the device buzzing in my hand as I noticed a picture of Harry on the screen.

“You sent them already?” I asked her. “Fuck, I’m not prepared.”

“Go take the phone call.” She said. “Give me your shit, I’ll get you checked out.”

I handed her my purse and the clothing before I answered the phone, holding it to my ear.

“Hi.” I said softly.

“You’re trying to kill me.” Harry whined out, his voice strained. “When I said send pictures, I meant ones with you doing innocent things. Now I have to wait for hours to touch you again, and all I can think about is you in that changing room.”

“I thought it might be a nice preview of things to come.” I bit my bottom lip as I crossed my free arm over my stomach. “I hope that you liked them.”

“I fucking loved them.” He said. “I plan on having them framed.”

“No you don’t.” I rolled my eyes. “No one wants to see those hung up in a gallery anywhere.”

“That’s not a bad idea…” He hummed out. “I wonder if the Guggenheim will take them?”

“Stop being so cheeky.” I tossed my head back, laughing loudly. “I allow you to put one in your wallet, so that you shall have to squint to see any flaws.”

“That just won’t do.” He tutted softly. “I’m putting them in my house, in large frames! I might even commission an artist to paint you like a little renaissance princess...but you’d have to send me one without the lacy thing for that.”

“In your dreams.” I mumbled, snorting out a soft laugh. “Have you done rehearsals yet?”

“Just about to go on stage and test it all out.” He said. “I was at the mic stand when I got those pictures by the way. I might have had to wobble off stage to take care of some things before I called you up.”

“Did you jack off to those?” I asked him bluntly. “Holy fuck, there’s no way-”

“Um, yeah, I did.” He said plainly. “My girlfriend sends me pictures of herself in lingerie, giving me bedroom eyes, and you expect me not to get hard? You’re insane.”

“You are insane.” I chuckled. “I’m happy to give a little inspiration to you in such desperate times, darling.”

“You sound so smug right now, honey.” His voice was soft, but there was a teasing edge to the tone of his voice that sent shivers down my spine. “Just you wait until I get on that stage tonight. I’ll have you dripping down your legs the second I walk out, and you know it.”

“Fuck.” I all but wheezed the word out. “Maybe I should cut my shopping trip short?”

“Now, now.” He taunted. “I don’t think your friends would like that very much, honey.”

“Alright, I’ve learned my lesson.” I cleared my throat. “Don’t tease if I don’t want to be teased back.”

“My clever girl.” he laughed. “Thank you for the pictures, honey. I think you looked positively stunning, and I really love them a lot.”

“You’re welcome.” I smiled, looking down at my feet. “I’ll see you soon, darling.”

“See you soon, Beatrice.” He whispered. “Be good.”

“Same to you.”

I hung up, taking a deep breath in attempts to hold in a squeal.

I fucking loved having a boyfriend.

🍯🍯🍯🍯

Harry’s POV

I slammed my fist into Dave’s covered palm with a loud grunt, biting down harder on my mouth guard as I ducked to avoid his right hook. I didn’t need a bruise on my face during the last show of my world tour, even if everyone would love that. I jumped back up, swinging my arm around for a side hit as Dave grunted in front of me. I took a few steps back, exhaling heavily as I heard chatter around me. I turned my head, my eyes landing on Beatrice and Claire standing by the ring. Claire was busy talking to Gemma, but Beatrice had her eyes glued on me. Just as I lifted my hand to wave, I felt a hard hit land on my ribcage, causing me to fall to the ground.

I heard Bea gasp as Dave laughed loudly.

“You shouldn’t have let your guard down, mate.” He tapped my hip with his glove. “Number one rule.”

“You prick, I was admiring my girl.” I groaned, falling onto my back. “It’s not my fault she’s so bloody gorgeous.”

“Oh my god, you’re ridiculous.” Bea’s laughter caught my attention, my head lolling to the side to see her standing at the side of the ring with one hand pressed over her lips.

“You think this is funny, huh?” I asked her, my words muffled around my guard. I turned my head to the opposite side, spitting it out before I looked back at her. “You wanna get in here and show me what you’ve got?”

“No thank you.” She laughed. “I’d rather stay down here and watch.”

“I see.” I looked up at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath before I sat up straight. I started removing my gloves, pulling at the velcro around my wrists with my teeth. “Come in here and give me a kiss at least?”

“If you insist.” Beatrice mumbled, pressing her hands onto the floor of the ring before she hoisted herself up with a small grunt. “This is too much physical exercise for me, Styles. I’ve already done one workout with you.”

“I’m just getting you prepared.” I smiled up at her as she stood over me. “I want you nice and prepped for our big workout tonight.”

“You two are disgusting.” Gemma groaned, her face twisting up. “I don’t want to hear this.”

“Bugger off then!” I laughed, tossing my hand about. “I ain’t gonna stop now, so here’s your warning.”

Beatrice dropped to her knees beside me, holding back laughter as she grabbed my arm.

“I knew you boxed, but seeing it in person is extremely erotic.” She mumbled, pulling the velcro away from the glove before she pulled it from my hand. “You’ve already seduced me, you don’t have to keep trying.”

“That goes both ways.” I let out a breathy chuckle, shaking my head at her. “What on earth possessed you to take those pictures in the changing room?”

“You.” She glanced up at me as she started to undo my wrap. “I was sitting there, looking at myself in that bodysuit...and you just popped into my head. I wasn’t gonna do it first, though. I couldn’t get a good picture by myself, so Tara helped out a little.”

“Remind me to buy her a car or something as a thank you.” I teased, bumping my shoulder into her arm. “You do know that you’re beautiful, right? Like...not to be a proper dick, but you’re one of the fittest girls I’ve ever seen in my whole life, and that’s coming from my heart and not my trousers.”

“Harry.” She laughed, shaking her head as she moved to the other wrist, her eyes avoiding mine at all costs. “You don’t have to sing such high praises-”

“Apparently I do, because you don’t seem to get it.” I whispered, sliding my free hand to her side for a quick squeeze. “You. are. Beautiful.”

I watched her cheeks turn red, her hips shifting about as she pulled the other glove off.

“I won’t stop saying it until you feel it.” I leaned closer, pressing my lips to her collarbone as she started working on the wrap. “I’ll say it a million times a day.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you see me that way, Harry.” She mumbled. “It’s just that I can’t believe it or see it myself, you know?”

I stopped, looking at her as she continued to work on my hand.

When my wrap was fully removed, I lifted both of my palms to her face as I sat up on my knees in front of her. I brushed my thumbs over her cheeks, my brows pulling together as she swallowed harshly. I could see a light glaze over her eyes, almost as if she were going to cry.

“Who made you feel like you’re not beautiful?” I asked her, watching her eyes cast down towards her knees. “Who hurt you?”

“No one.” She mumbled. “It’s not like I can sit and point fingers at every major company or magazine that put me down because of my weight or my body. I can’t individually list every person that’s ever called me names. I can’t sit and add it all up, because that makes it worse. So I just...let it go. You should too.”

I watched her look up at me with an unsure smile, and it nearly broke my heart.

“You are perfect the way that you are.” I moved my forehead closer to hers. “Fuck them all, Beatrice. From the magazines, to the fashion industry, to the people around you that make you feel less than perfect for feeling comfortable in your own skin. I saw how much fun you were having when you took those photos, and I knew that you were feeling good about yourself...so why let those people drag you back down?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I guess that’s just how the female brain works. We take one step forward in progress and then we leap five steps back when we get a glimpse of peace.”

“Well, we’re not taking steps back anymore.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead, closing my eyes as I inhaled the scent of her shampoo. “I know it’s hard to love yourself, especially when the whole world is telling you not to, but we have each other now. We’re not alone in this.”

I watched her eyes narrow, her head tilting to the side as she stared at me.

“What?” I asked.

“Who hurt you?” She asked. “Harry, please tell me that you don’t...if anyone in this relationship is perfect, it’s-”

I pressed my lips to hers, sliding my palms to the side of her neck as she let out a surprised squeak. Seconds later, she melted into my kiss, her fingers gripping my shirt tightly as I brushed my tongue over her bottom lip. It took us seconds to find our way to the floor, her legs spreading just enough for me to slot my hips between them. I felt my hand slip down, cupping her breast over the thin, satin tank top that she put on. The soft pink color looked beautiful on her, and I was envious of the blouse as it clung to her body in such a flattering manner.

“Don’t ever do that.” I pulled back, looking into her eyes as she tried to catch her breath. “I know that the world has me on some pedestal, but I’m just Harry. I’m your boyfriend, and I’m going to make mistakes just the same as you. I’m not any better than you, Beatrice, and I never want you to feel that way. We’re equals, and I will never let you put yourself down just to build me up.”

“Kiss me.” She gripped my shoulders, pulling me into her lips again.

I felt the stirring in the lower pit of my stomach, a soft burn accompanied by the blood flowing straight to my cock. I groaned, sliding my tongue past her lips just so I could hear those beautiful noises she made in the heat of the moment. It was almost as if she couldn’t contain her feelings in her body, so they had to escape in soft hums. I felt her fingers gripping at my arms, desperate to pull me closer to her body as she shifted her hips against the mat.

I pulled away, pressing my forehead to hers as my chest heaved.

Kissing her made me more breathless than my workout.

“You’re intoxicating.” I let out a breathless chuckle, sliding my palm from her breast to her neck. I brushed my thumb over her jaw, closing my eyes. “And you smell fucking amazing, what is that?”

“I spoiled myself with a new perfume today.” She chuckled, sliding her fingers over my forearm before wrapping them around my wrist. “It’s by Chloe.”

“It smells delightful.” I ducked my head down, brushing my nose over her skin. “Like roses.”

“I think it’s called Roses De Chloe, if I’m not mistaken.” She let out a shuddery breath when I kissed over the skin of her neck. “You’re dangerous, Harry Styles.”

“You have no idea.” I chuckled, lifting my head up. “C’mon, I need to shower before dinner.”

“And I need to be present?” She lifted her brows up as I settled on my knees.

“I would prefer that you’re present.” I chuckled, reaching for my water bottle. “I want to hear about your day.”

“I suppose that’s fair.” She sighed, raising her upper half with her palms behind her on the mat.

“And maybe, I can sneak in a couple more kisses before tonight.” I watched her drop her head back, laughing until a little snort slipped out. “Just when I think you can’t get any cuter, you do something like that.”

“Oh, yes, the snort is so cute.” She rolled her head forward, sending me a blank stare. “Let’s go, casanova, you do need a shower.”

“Rude.”

🐟🐟🐟🐟

Bea’s POV

“I almost got a haircut today.” I scrolled on my phone, curling my feet under my legs as Harry continued to shower. “I mean, that’s not that interesting seeing as I didn’t, but I thought about it.”

“I think you would look cute with short hair.” Harry called over the spray of the shower. “I just don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have something to pull into a ponytail when you’re-”

“Don’t say it.” I glanced over my phone, watching him smile at me through the steamed glass of the shower.

“C’mon, you know you’d miss that feeling.” He chuckled, sliding his abnormally large hands over his head as he tilted it back towards the spray of the shower.

“I’ve only given you one blowjob, sir.” I tilted my chin up. “I don’t know that I would miss it.”

“Giving me blowjobs or having me pull your hair?” He asked. “We can test both of those theories out right now if you want.”

“Maybe later, darling.” I rolled my eyes, glancing back at my phone. “Are you excited for tonight?”

“I am.” He said. “I’m so thrilled to get this tour over with, honestly. I love every single moment of it, don’t get me wrong, but I need some time off.”

“You’ve been a busy boy.” I nodded. “You never really took a serious break between the band and your solo stuff, squid.”

“I didn’t want to.” He said casually. “I need to be working, Beatrice. I literally don’t think I could ever stop.”

“I know what you mean.” I chuckled, shaking my head. “I mean, I’m not necessarily pulling the hours that you are, but I am a workaholic like you.”

“That’s not good.” He turned the shower off, talking through a soft chuckle as he pulled the door open. “If we’re both workaholics, who’s going to take time off to visit the other.”

“You.” I pointed at him with my phone, offering him a smile. “You’re the one on break, aren’t ya?”

“Touche.” He stepped out of the shower, reaching for the towel on the hook next to the sink with furrowed brows. “Why are you on the floor?”

“It’s comfier than sitting on the sink.” I shrugged, looking up at him. “You smell delectable.”

“Thanks.” He leaned down, stealing a kiss. “Want a taste?”

I rolled my lips in, looking into his eyes as he toweled his hair off.

“Yeah, actually.” I mumbled, dropping my phone to the floor on top of my shoes. “I might want a taste.”

Harry’s eyes snapped to mine as I rolled onto my knees, pressing my palms to his damp thighs.

“Fuck.” He whispered. “I didn’t actually think… you don’t have to.”

“I want to.” I dug my nails into his thighs, smirking when he hissed out. “Lean against the sink for me? I don’t want you to fall.”

“Okay.” He shuffled back a few steps, pressing his bum to the edge of the sink as I moved closer to him.

Harry’s eyes were glued to me as I kissed over the small tattoos on his legs.

They were mostly silly little words, but I found them adorable.

I let my right hand move from the tiger tattoo on his thigh to the base of his cock, my fingertips trailing over a vein in his shaft. I watched his cock twitch, a small drop of precum bubbling from the red tip. I was curious to know more about Harry’s body, and the things that I could do to it. He was only the second guy that I had seen naked like this, but I was proud to say that he was my favorite. I liked his cock, and I loved how it reacted to the smallest of touches from me.

“You have a very pretty cock.” I mumbled, glancing up at him as he gripped the edge of the sink with white knuckles. “It seems to like attention, huh?”

“Just yours.” He cleared his throat, shifting his hips around. “Please, angel.”

“Be patient.” I whispered, sliding my forefinger over his tip. “I’m admiring it.”

It was slowly growing harder with each second that I stared at it, my fingertips still lightly tracing over the shaft. Harry was breathing heavily above me, his chest heaving and his grip tight on the porcelain behind him. I loved watching his thighs and his tummy tense when I leaned closer, my breath brushing over the sensitive area ever so slightly. I had him wrapped already, and I couldn’t wait to test just how much willpower he had.

Part of me wanted him to tangle his fingers in my hair before pulling my mouth onto his cock. I wanted him to groan and growl out filthy words while I gasped for air. I wanted to be everything he wanted me to be while I was on my knees in front of him. I knew that he had a bit of a dominant streak in him, just like I had a submissive one in me, but we weren’t quite there yet.

“What are you waiting for?” I glanced up at him. “I thought we were testing out if I’d miss having your hands in my hair while I sucked you off?”

“You are trouble.” He lifted a hand from the sink, cupping my chin gently. “I see it in your eyes, you know? I know what you want me to do, but I won’t do it unless you beg.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” I said sweetly.

“Don’t play coy, angel.” He brushed his thumb over my lower lip as he mumbled, causing me to smirk up at him. “You want me to fuck your mouth, don’t you?”

“Sounds pleasant, I suppose.” I shrugged my shoulders

Harry’s lips curved into a smirk that reminded me of the cheshire cat.

“You’re a bit of a brat, aren’t you?” He tilted my chin up higher, watching my face as I tried to contain my smile. “Sweet Beatrice, you are treading on very thin ice.”

“Am I?” I asked softly. “I feel like I’m being such a good girl.”

“You know that you’re not.”

I moan when I felt his thumb slip past my lips, brushing over my tongue before he pulled it right back out. I leaned forward, pulling it back into my mouth as Harry’s eyes turned from light to dark. I could see the intense look burning behind the soft Jade color of his irises.

“You’re teasing me again.” He let out a shuddery sigh, closing his eyes as he tilted his head back. “You’re going to be in so much trouble when I get you home.”

I pulled back from his thumb with a pop, smiling up at him as his hand gripped the base of his cock. I watched him stroke over the shaft twice, holding back soft whimpers as he did.

“Open your mouth.” He said it sternly, but I could see the hint of softness left in him.

He wanted to make sure that I was okay.

I stuck my tongue out, settling my palms on my thighs as I waited for him to finally give me what I wanted. He rested the head of his cock on my tongue, the salty taste of his precum mixed with a hint of his body wash. I closed my mouth around the head, lapping my tongue over the slit of his cock as he hissed. Seconds later, his right hand was digging into the roots of my hair.

“Your fucking mouth, angel.” He dropped his head back, letting out a high pitched whine. “Feels so good wrapped around me, Beatrice.”

I hummed softly, moving as far as I could go on his shaft.

He was thick, but not overly so, and the length of his cock was perfect for my mouth.

I could hardly make it to the base of his cock, but I was happy with making it halfway at least. I pulled back, suckling harshly when I made it to the tip. Harry’s hips jutted forward in response, causing his cock to slip right back into my mouth. I moaned around him, closing my eyes as I dug my nails into his thighs. I moved my head slowly, trying to figure out the perfect pace.

I hadn’t had much practice, but this was my third blowjob, so I liked to think I had the basics down. Harry seemed to think so too, his fingers pulling my roots tighter as he moved his hips gently in and out of my mouth. He was nowhere near my throat, and I was thankful for that. I wasn’t quite ready to test out that area of pleasure when it came to blowjobs. I didn’t know how I would handle having someone literally pushing into my throat just yet.

“I’m gonna cum.” He whimpered. “Open your eyes, Beatrice.”

I did as I was told, looking up at him.

“Use your hands and…” He inhaled sharply when I suckled on the head of his cock again before moving my lips down. “Please just play with my-”

I knew what he was trying to ask, my fingers already finding their way to his balls.

I brushed my thumb over the skin at first, testing out the waters before I started to really massage them between my fingers. Harry’s hips stuttered forward as he cursed loudly, dropping his head forward as I stared up at him. The second his glazed over eyes locked with mine, it was all over. He lowered his left hand to my head, sliding his fingers through the roots as he held himself in my mouth, his cum coating the center of my tongue as he cried out.

When he was done, he pulled himself out, and I swallowed with a scrunched up nose.

“You didn’t have to swallow.” He chuckled, reaching down to brush his thumb under my lips. “I would have moved for you.”

“It’s okay.” I shrugged. “I didn’t mind it.”

“Your face said otherwise.” He laughed a little harder. “Thank you, honey, that was really nice.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” I rolled my eyes, holding my hands up towards him. “Help me up, my knees are sore.”

“Sorry.” he grabbed my hands, pulling me up to my feet. “Give me a kiss.”

“You want to kiss me?” I asked him, pulling my head back as he leaned forward. “Don’t you want me to like, brush my teeth first?”

“No.” His brows furrowed. “I want your lips.”

“But...I thought guys didn’t like…” I paused, tilting my head. “Nevermind.”

“No, finish that sentence.” he said. “You thought guys didn’t like what?”

“Kissing someone after they’ve...you know?” I felt my cheeks heat up as Harry stared back at me.

“Is that what the guy before me said? The guy that you tried this out on a while ago?” He asked softly, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand in soft circles.

“Yeah.” I mumbled. “He also kind of didn’t give me a choice on the whole spit or swallow thing.”

“He sounds like a fucking prick.” Harry’s jaw tensed as he inhaled sharply, shaking his head with a stern expression. “Don’t ever let a man treat you like that again, do you hear me? I don’t ever want you to do something because you think I’ll like it. We both have to enjoy it if this is going to work.”

“I wanted that with you.” I brushed my palms over his pecs, sliding them up to his neck. “I just...I didn’t know.”

“Well, you do now.” He leaned forward, brushing his nose against mine. “I’m a lucky bastard for being able to have your mouth like that, the least I can do is kiss you after and call you a good girl.”

“Don’t call me a good girl.” I closed my eyes, pressing my thighs together.

“S’that turn you on?” He laughed, sliding his hands to my lower back. “But you were so good for me, angel. After you were a total brat, of course.”

“That’s my favorite part.” I opened my eyes, offering him a smile. “I like being a brat.”

Harry let out a soft sigh, his lips pressed together as he tried not to smile.

“We’re going to have so much fun.” He whispered, leaning closer to my lips with his own. “I’m going to wreck you.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” I snorted out a laugh, but Harry cut it off with a kiss. “You really are the type to kiss someone in the middle of-”

His lips pressed into mine again, and I melted.

🍆🍆🍆🍆

Harry’s POV

Beatrice and Claire were a force to be reckoned with.

Three tequila shots and a watermelon margarita later, and they were both ready to party. I watched Bea toss the tequila shots back like water, reaching for the lime as her nose scrunched up ever so slightly. I tried to hide the proud smile I was wearing, but it was hard to do that when my girlfriend was crushing my favorite liquor like it was water. Gemma wasn’t quiet about catching my smile either, her elbow digging into my side.

“You’re in love.” She sang out. “Look at her, like another version of you.”

“In my younger days.” I snorted, crossing my arms over my chest. “I can’t party like that anymore.”

“Yes you can.” Gemma rolled her eyes. “You’re dramatic.”

“Eh, just a little.” I smiled over at her. “Have you two been getting along?”

“We’ve talked some, yeah.” Gemma nodded, digging her spoon into a mountain of mashed potatoes. “She reminds me a lot of you in certain ways, but there’s something about her that I can’t put my finger on.”

“Something that you don’t like or?” I waited for her response as she let out a soft noise of uncertainty. “What?”

“I just think that she’s one of those people that puts her own needs aside to please everyone else, you know?” Gemma sighed. “It's not a bad thing, but it can be harmful.”

“I’ve noticed that too.” I scratched at my jaw. “But it doesn’t make me want her any less.”

“Oh, I know.” Gemma rolled her eyes. “When you fixate on someone, you’re like a fucking dog with their new favorite toy.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I bumped her shoulder with my own. “I get it, you think I’ll forget about my favorite sister.”

“You did when you were with Hannah...and Madison...and Samantha-”

“Got it.” I said sharply, glaring at her. “Gemma, I know that I’ve been a proper dick about relationships in the past, but I just...I want someone to love. Is that such a bad thing?”

“It is when you put everyone else aside and focus on someone toxic.” She was such a smart ass sometimes, and I hated it. “But I don’t think Bea is toxic. I just think she’s a little innocent.”

I snorted, but I quickly wiped my hand over my mouth.

“You’re disgusting.” Gemma narrowed her eyes at me. “I meant in worldly matters, not in the bedroom.”

“She’s pretty innocent in the bedroom too.” Claire’s voice made me jump, my hand pressing to my chest as Gemma turned her head back. “She’s still a virgin...right, Harry?”

“Oh my god.” I felt my face heat up as Claire plopped into the seat beside Gemma. “Can I see your spoon, Gem? I would like to scoop my eyes out now.”

“So many things that I didn’t need to know.” Gemma mumbled, glancing at Claire. “You’re insane, I like that.”

“Good.” Claire smiled at Gemma, reaching over to steal a green bean off of her plate. “I think you’re pretty fucking awesome too.”

Gemma laughed, shaking her head at Claire as she reached for a water bottle.

“In all honesty, she is pretty innocent, but she’s also pretty smart.” Claire said. “Even though she’s most definitely losing it with Sarah over there.”

I turned my head around, watching Sarah and Beatrice lean into each other as they both laughed. I raised my brows, looking back at Claire who just shrugged her shoulders.

“They both had an emo phase, and to them, that’s hysterical.” Claire sipped at her water. “I didn’t know Mitch’s birthday was yesterday, by the way.”

“Oh, yeah.” I nodded. “We did a pre-party for him, it was fun.”

“I feel bad for stealing his birthday thunder.” Claire pouted her bottom lip out. “Had I known, I wouldn’t have soaked up being in the spotlight light last night.”

“I’m sure Mitch enjoyed it.” Gemma said. “He’s not one for being the center of attention.”

“Very odd, isn’t it.” Claire hummed. “For both of us to be cancers, but to be so different.”

“Natal chart.” Gemma pointed her spoon towards Claire. “It makes a world of difference.”

“On that note, I’m leaving.” I stood up from my chair, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Gemma’s head before I nodded at Claire. “I’m keeping my eyes on you two tonight, you seem dangerous.”

“Wait until she starts trying to take her clothes off.” Claire moved her eyebrows, biting her tongue between her teeth.

“Oh fuck me.” I groaned, dropping my head back before I walked around the long table, heading in the direction of Sarah and Bea.

“You two look like you’re having a good laugh.” I looked between them with raised brows.

“Sarah showed me a picture of her hair in highschool.” Bea pressed her palm over her mouth, her eyes watering as Sarah laughed harder next to her.

“Oh my goodness.” I chuckled, sitting down next to them. “I haven’t seen that, let me see.”

“No, for Bea’s eyes only.” Sarah wheezed, snatching her phone against her chest. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“You’re stealing my friends.” I glanced back at Beatrice as she silently laughed, hunching over as I let out a breathy laugh through my nose. “Is this the tequila, or do I need to get you an inhaler, honey?”

“I’m fine.” She waved her hand about, taking a deep breath before she wiped under her eyes to collect the fallen tears. “I just haven’t laughed like that in a while.”

“I’m glad my hair was amusing.” Sarah giggled, patting Beatrice’s thigh. “I’ve got to go find my boyfriend, I haven’t shown him this picture yet.”

“So everyone gets to see it but me?” I watched Sarah nod as she stood up. “Rude, Sarah Jones.”

“I love you, Harry Styles.” She dropped her hand to my head, ruffling my hair. “But, no.”

Beatrice let out another round of giggles at that, and I turned my eyes towards her.

“I’ll get you for this later.” I reached over, tickling her side before she squeaked out. “You seriously can’t get any cuter.”

“Stop.” She groaned, swatting my hand away as she pouted. “I’m ticklish.”

“Good.” I chuckled. “I’ve been away far too long, where is my kiss?”

“Needy man.” She leaned forward, pressing her lips to mine. “I’m excited for the show to start, I can’t wait to see you dancing around like a fool on stage. What was it that you said earlier? You were going to have me dripping down my legs?”

I inhaled sharply as she tilted her head, kissing the soft spot below my ear.

“Claire warned me that tequila made you horny.” I brushed my palm up her thigh. “Easy there, honey.”

“Oops.” She pulled back, her cheeks practically glowing red. “I forgot about the other people in the room.”

“S’alright.” I lifted my hand, brushing my thumb over her chin. “Just don’t want to get worked up before I have to sit in the hair and makeup chair.”

“Oh, makeup!” She exclaimed. “I still have to get ready.”

“You can get ready with me.” I said. “We’ll sit side by side.”

“How cute.” She pouted again, tilting her head to the side like she’d just seen a cute puppy dog walking down the street. “You’re sweet.”

“And you’re tipsy.” I laughed. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

She shook her head. “I was waiting for you.”

“C’mon, let’s grab a plate or two and figure out what we want.” I reached for her hand, standing up before she followed suit. “One more kiss?”

“Okay.” She pressed up on her toes, kissing my cheek. “Oh, I wonder if you have fries around here somewhere. You know the old saying, fries before guys.”

“Excuse me.” I followed behind her as she giggled, shaking my head. “No, it’s guys before fries here.”

I was going to have my hands full with this one.

🍟 🍟 🍟🍟

Bea’s POV

When I walked out of the bathroom, pulling my faux leather jacket on, my jaw nearly hit the ground. I stopped in my tracks, looking at Harry with parted lips and wide eyes as he turned around and held his arms out for Lambert. I watched him shrug his jacket on, shimmying his shoulders until it rested comfortably on his frame. Harry looked up at me, shooting me a grin that made me knees feel wobbly. I cleared my throat, adjusting my own jacket before I walked closer to him with sweaty palms and a frog in my throat.

“You look gorgeous.” He leaned forward, holding my elbow with his massive hand before he pressed a kiss to my temple. “Have you put on the lacy thing for me?”

“Yeah, I have.” I sucked in a breath as he lifted the lapel of my jacket, his eyes burning when they landed on the bodysuit. “Better in person?”

“Much.” He mumbled, glancing up at me with a lopsided grin, his dimple just barely visible. “If there weren’t other people in this room, I’d kiss the breath right out of your lungs.”

I pressed my lips together, holding back a groan as his voice dropped.

“Sadly, there are plenty of people!” Lambert interrupted. “And I refuse to see this shirt ruined by that gorgeous red lipstick you’ve got on, Beatrice. What is that?”

“Um, Revlon.” I said softly. “I think the shade is Black Cherry or something like that.”

“Revlon.” Lambert muttered. “You wear it well, darling.”

“Thank you.” I felt my cheeks heat up as Harry smiled at me, almost as if he was proud of my ability to impress his friends.

“Now, you two are off to watch Kacey’s set, but please be careful with the jacket.” Lambert brushed his hands over Harry’s arms. “We don’t want too many sequins gone before your set.”

“I’ll try to keep the dancing to a minimum.” Harry laughed, shaking his head at Lambert. “Thanks for being such a wonderful addition to the team, mate. I don’t know what the fuck I would done without you.”

“Probably would have worn those dreadful black skinny jeans on stage for the entire tour.” I tried to hold back my laugh, slapping my palm over my hand at Lambert's words. “And those chelsea boots, the tan ones? I’m getting nauseous thinking about it.”

“Oi, I was fit!” Harry exclaimed. “I pulled it off well, didn’t I Bea?”

“There was a reason Niall was my favorite.” I shrugged.

“Excuse me?” He blinked at me, his face blank. “Niall looked like a fucking frat boy-”

“You had a phase.” I pointed out. “You all went through a frat boy phase with your snapbacks and your cut off shirts.”

“But I was the only one who pulled it off well.” He held his finger up, waving it about. “Niall was nowhere near as attractive as I in the snapback.”

“You fucker!”

Harry and I snapped our heads around at the new voice in the room.

The second I lay my eyes on the dirty blonde Irishman, I felt like my heart was going to fall out of my ass. Niall stood there in the doorway with his hands held up, a look of mock offense on his face. I turned to Harry, my jaw practically on the floor as he stared at his old mate.

“Niall!” Harry said. “You made it, lucky charms!”

“I heard what you said, Styles.” Horan pointed his finger, putting on a fake angry expression before his eyes darted towards me. “Is she alright?”

Harry looked back at me, his brows raised as I looked between him and Niall, my finger weakly pointing at my childhood crush.

“That’s Niall Horan.” I said softly as Harry walked up to me. “That’s Niall Horan.”

“Okay, let’s breathe.” Harry chuckled, brushing his hands over my biceps, holding me in place as I tried to peer around him. “I’m offended that you weren’t this shell shocked when we met.”

“You aren’t Niall Horan.” I said, looking up at him. “That’s….I had such a huge crush on him.”

Harry ducked his head down, his breath tickling my ear.

“Do I need to take you into the bathroom and remind you who you’re here for?”

I felt my eyes flutter shut, a soft whine catching in my throat as Harry nipped at my earlobe before pressing a quick kiss to my pulse point. I almost felt dizzy when he lifted his head up with that dazzling smirk on his lips. I cleared my throat, shifting on my feet.

“Answer me.” He said. “Do you need that?”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

“Oh, angel, you look flustered.” He cooed, brushing his knuckles over my cheek.

“I’m good.” I cleared my throat, willing my voice to go back to normal. “I was just a little shocked, that’s all.”

“Gimme a kiss.” He puckered his lips out dramatically, and I let out a breathy laugh. “There she is.”

I pressed up on my toes, kissing his cheek.

“Sorry.” I mumbled, avoiding his gaze. “I just...he just popped up out of nowhere. I need a warning for these kind of things.”

“Next time I’ll sing a good ol’ pub song while I’m walking down the hall so you know I’m coming for you, love.” Niall laughed at himself, and I couldn’t help but laugh along as Harry turned around with an unamused expression. “You gonna introduce us, Styles?”

“This is my girlfriend, Bea.” Harry slipped his hand over my back. “Beatrice, this is Niall.”

“Hi.” I held my hand out, but Niall swatted it away before opening his arms.

“I like hugs.”

“She’s not hugging you.” Harry held me back, scowling at Niall.

I turned my head back to look at Harry, my lips pressed together and my brows raised as if to say ‘oh, really?’ to his comment. I could hug whoever I wanted, and right now, I wanted to make Harry jealous by hugging Niall fucking Horan.

“I’m hugging him.” I said, moving closer to Niall. “Don’t be sour.”

“He is a bit of a sour patch kid, isn’t he?” Niall laughed as I wrapped my arms around his middle, giggling when he tossed his arms around my shoulders. “I can’t believe Harry’s got himself a decent girl.”

“You just met me, you don’t know that I’m decent yet.” I pulled back with a laugh, retreating to my spot next to Harry. “But I’ll take the compliment all the same.”

“Thatta girl.” Niall winked at me before stuffing his hands in his pockets, turning towards Harry with a bright smile. “I’m excited to see your show tonight.”

“It’s gonna be weird, knowing that you’re out in the crowd watching instead of performing with me.” Harry blew out a nervous breath, shaking his head. “And it doesn’t help that you’re not the only one here. Liam is coming tonight, fucking Kendall will be here...I’m pretty sure a few other people will be here tonight too.”

“Well, Kendall is fucking tone deaf, so I don’t think she’ll notice if you fuck up.” Niall cackled, tossing his head back. “And I doubt you’ll fuck up at all, you’re a star mate.”

“So are you, Horan.” Harry reached out, tapping Niall’s shoulder. “I’ve missed you.”

“Yeah, I’ve missed you too.” Niall’s voice was softer, a happy smile still on his face. “Can’t believe it’s already been two years apart.”

“I’m gonna cry.” I whispered, waving my hand in front of my eyes as they started to water. “I’m having flashbacks of the History music video, I don’t need this today.”

“You got yourself a fan.” Niall asked, his brows shooting up towards his hairline. “Is that why she was so wigged out a second ago?”

“Yeah.” I spoke up. “You were my favorite.”

“I was?” Niall asked, his head tilting to the side. “Am I not anymore.”

“I mean…” I turned towards Harry, sliding my arm around his waist before I looked back at Niall with a small giggle. “Look at this one, mate! He’s so dreamy and he’s romantic.”

“I can be romantic.” Niall exclaimed.

Harry snorted, turning his head to spit out a fake cough to save himself.

“What was that for?” Niall said. “I can be romantic!”

“Sure, mate.” Harry reached out, patting Niall’s shoulder again as a knock sounded at his dressing room door. “Oh look, more people.”

I turned my head to the doorway, suddenly intimidated by the three women walking in.

Claire, Kendall, and Hannah (Harry's most recent ex) walked in together.

I automatically felt inferior to them, and not just because I was much shorter.

Even my own best friend fit in better with that group than I did, her perfect brown skin and long legs practically identical to the other two women. Harry clearly had a type for summer goddesses with a knack for modeling, and it made me wonder why he didn’t pick Claire over me. They would have made such a beautiful couple.

“I want you to meet Kenny.” Harry squeezed my side. “She’s a good friend of mine.”

“Sure.” I gave him a tight smile, swallowing my nerves as I felt my palms sweat.

I didn’t know a lot about Kendall or her family, but I never heard anything good.

I also didn’t know how to talk to someone of her status.

“Ken!” Harry said her name so casually, like he was used to calling it out. “I’d like you to meet someone.”

Fuck.

She set her eyes on me, scanning me from head to toe before plastering on a smile and strutting over in her mega high heels. I owned a pair similar to hers, but mine came from Walmart, and hers were probably from Dior. She stopped in front of us, affectionately touching Harry’s bicep with a soft hell before she turned to look down at me.

“Hi.” She said. “I’m Kendall.”

“Beatrice.” I stuck my hand out to her nervously, but she just looked at it. I had a feeling that she wasn’t a hugger like Niall. “Um, you can call me Bea though.”

“Bea.” She nodded as I pulled my hand back. “Where did you two meet?”

“At a bar last night.” Harry laughed softly, squeezing my side as he shot me a wink. It eased my nerves just a little. “Swept her right off of her feet.”

“So that is how we’re telling the story?” I chuckled, turning my attention towards him instead of the nerve wracking situation in front of me. “I suppose you’re not entirely wrong.”

“I never am.” He sighed dramatically, pursing his lips before he leaned in for a quick kiss. “So, Ken, where’s your man tonight?”

Oh, thank god.

“He’s just talking shit with Jeff, I think.” She turned her head, scanning the dressing room before she rolled her eyes. “I honestly don’t want to see his face tonight, he’s being annoying.”

“Oh no.” Harry laughed softly. “What have you done?”

“Me, I did nothing?” She pressed her fingers to her collarbone, scoffing playfully. “I merely said we should vacation in Mykonos with my family-”

“There it is.” Harry interrupted.

“What’s wrong with vacationing with my family?” Kendall asked, tilting her head to the side with a frown. “Everyone loves it!”

“No, they don’t.” Harry shook his head. “I remember your Mum made us-”

He stopped, shifting on his feet as he looked at me.

“Don’t mind me.” I said. “You can keep talking, I can go find Claire or-”

“That would be great-”

“Don’t go-”

Harry and Kendall spoke at the same time, and I rolled my lips into my mouth as they both looked at each other in shock.

“Um, well,” I stuttered, slowly pulling myself from Harry’s arm. “You clearly need a moment, so I’m just gonna go somewhere that isn’t right here.”

I turned, walking towards Claire and Niall like there was a fire under my ass.

“Oh my god.” I whispered, grabbing Claire’s arm. “I feel like I was just met the fucking queen or something! I mean, the way she looked at me, Claire-”

“She’s not very nice.” Claire laughed, sliding her arm around my shoulder. “It’s alright though, I’m a much better model than her and I plan on dragging her ass down the runway one day.”

“Thank you.” I squeaked out, letting out a laugh as Niall chuckled in front of us. “Sorry, I know you’re probably friends with her too, I just-”

“Not friends.” Niall said, shaking his head. “Never have been, never will be.”

“Fair.” I sighed, taking a few deep breaths. “Oh, Claire, it’s Niall!”

“Yeah, we’ve been chatting for a minute over here babe.” She laughed. “He introduced himself.”

“Right.” I laughed nervously. “There’s a lot happening.”

“You need a break?” Niall asked. “Because the three of us can sneak off for a drink, I doubt anyone will notice we’re gone.”

I turned my head, looking at Harry as he laughed with Kendall and Hannah.

It hurt just a tiny bit to see him so chummy with his exes, but who was I to judge.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” I turned back to Niall with a fake smile. “Let’s go.”

Harry’s POV

“So, what’s the deal with this new girl?” Kendall asked. “She’s...different.”

“I don’t like what you’re insinuating.” I said slowly, my brows pulling together. “Why did you say it like that?”

“She just, doesn’t seem like your type.” She shrugged, brushing it off as if it was no big deal. “I haven’t seen you with someone like her before.”

“Kenny has a point.” Hanna interrupted, looking at me with raised brows. “You don’t typically go for her type.”

“Okay, you’re both being vague and annoying.” I let out a frustrated huff. “What are you getting at?”

“She’s not stepping on the cover of Vogue anytime soon.” Kendall shrugged. “That’s all.”

“Because-” I waited for them to speak, but they both glanced at each other.

“Well, she’s bigger than what you normally go for, and she’s a little plain.” Hannah said. “It’s not really like you to downgrade.”

“Right.” I let out a bitter laugh, lifting my hand to scratch at my jaw as I felt anger boiling up from my chest to my throat. “Fuck you...both of you. I don’t know where you get off insulting someone you don’t even know, but that shit doesn’t matter to everyone. Beatrice could put a paper bag over her head, and it wouldn’t make me want her any less. Do you know why?”

They both stared at me as I waited for an answer.

“Because she has a fucking heart, and a beautiful mind.” I snapped. “You two are a bunch of gossiping trust fund babies with no morals.”

I turned around, stalking towards the door of my dressing room without second thought.

I slammed it behind me before I turned down the hall, walking straight for catering.

When I walked into the room, Beatrice was sitting between Niall and Claire sipping on a watermelon margarita with pink cheeks and a bright smile. I felt my anger dissipate in my chest, her laughter distracting me from the cruel words replaying in my head. I let out a sigh, feeling my shoulders slump before I walked towards the cheerful group.

“Hey.” I said, dropping into the seat next to Bea’s. “I missed you.”

“Did you?” She asked me, squinting playfully with pursed lips. “You seemed like you were having fun.”

“It was dreadful, believe me.” I leaned closer, stealing a kiss from her. “Are you having fun?”

“So much.” She smiled, kissing me once more. “I can’t wait to get out there though. I think Kacey is on in ten minutes.”

“Sounds right.” I let out a breath, pressing my palm to Beatrice’s thigh. “Finish up your drink, honey. I’ll have Larissa make us more before Jeff takes us to the side stage.”

“Okay.” She gave me a bright smile. “Thank you.”

“For what?” I asked, tilting my head to the side curiously.

“For being so sweet.” She mumbled. “I adore you.”

My heart practically screamed in my chest, the hairs raising up on the back of my neck as I felt my lips pull into a huge smile. I let out a giggle, ducking my head down as my cheeks warmed.

Beatrice brushed her fingers over the back of my neck as I moved closer to her, wrapping my arms around her the best that I could from my chair.

“I adore you, too.”

#honeybee #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles x ofc #harry styles series #harry styles multi-chapter fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry fluff #harry smut #harry angst #tw: kendall jenner #tw: bullying

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ginkgomoon · 3 years

Text

Happy MLQC Anniversary To Me 🥳

Posting this one so I can look back and laugh at myself and JUST INCASE I FORGET ANYTHING FROM HERE IN THE FUTURE.

It was a fine autumn day… (This is how I wished it would go in my head LOL)

I remember vividly where I was the first time I had laid my eyes on the four boys. It was actually from a video about an upcoming anime.

At first, I didn’t think about it as much. This man throwing his motorcycle helmet at me? AWESOME.

I don’t watch anime, and neither do I play any games on my phone. But the one time I saw it on the App Store, I had recognised it, then downloaded it. Apparently, it was the same day that the had anime first aired! Then of course, I was then greeted by someone yelling at me about some report that I needed to do-

I’VE JUST BEEN BORN INTO THIS WORLD PLEASE SPARE ME.

It seemed like a nice little game but I wasn’t used to the game style. Unfortunately, I deleted the game shortly after.

*Insert me mindlessly living my life- no Gavin, no nothing*

Then, I saw this one man on YouTube. How interesting! *Click*

It was a Gavin date.

I fell down the MLQC rabbit hole after having an mini Gavin date marathon. It was also the perfect timing when the anime episodes kept coming out and I felt inclined to watch it! I also started watching videos of the main storyline for later chapters in the Winter World AND I SAW GAVIN HOLDING MC AGAINST THE WALL DEMANDING HER NAME WITH THISE COLD EYES.

AND I KNEW HE WAS THE ONE.

So I re-downloaded the game, heading straight for Gavin. Beautiful heavenly voice.

Through in exchange for Gavin’s love, I had to go through the main story plot as well, which I had no idea. Absolutely no idea what was going on.

But I was intrigued and I went searching for more content, continued further down the storyline and discovered that there were multiple servers! Including Chinese! For me, it’s really nice to see my culture being made more well known in other parts of the world. Even I had learnt a lot and still am.

I did a lot of digging online to see what other MLQC content I could find, and BEHOLD. TUMBLR. YOU EXIST!!

I started reading some analyses of the storyline and slowly as I progressed through the game, I started to have a slight idea of what was going on.

Back then, I didn’t have an account for Tumblr because I didn’t even know how to use it. I didn’t think that would will ever need to make one or learn how because I was just merely a casual reader. (I say as I spent weeks trying to figure out the MLQC universe.)

But there was this one particular blog that I found myself returning to. And one of the reasons why this account and very post exists. I will say this now and will continue in the future-

*Plays Osborn’s song*

@cheri-cheri, IT’S YOU, IT’S YOUUUUU!

I had to bookmark the @cheri-translates website and kept going back to check everyday if you had updated. (It sounds really silly now that I remember LOL)

But after, I made my own Tumblr account so I could follow and keep myself up to date on the content more easily. I conquered my fear of Tumblr!

But that was as far as I could see it. I didn’t see myself able to analyse the game or post like everyone else. Plus, I was fine with just reading CN content. And I stayed within my comfort zone like that until early this year.

Another thing that also helped me strengthen my connection to the game was the music. Whether I’m listening to it during my long study hours (*plays Gavin’s S2 Blue Temperature while writing essay*), or just relaxing on a Friday night, it has always allowed me to take a break and escape for a little while.

MLQC and Tumblr has really helped me get through my classes and just life in general. And especially now when I’m making content daily. So thank you to everyone for supporting this game as well as reading Cheri’s content, other blogs, my posts and this right now. We’re all in this together and with you being here with me just makes it even more fun.

Thanks for reading to the end!

💙❤️💛💜

#EMOTIONAL #moral of the story- Cheri is the best #mlqc #mr love queens choice #love and producer #恋与制作人 #mlqc en #mlqc gavin #MLQC anniversary #mlqc victor #mlqc lucien #mlqc kiro #mlqc shaw

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sweetswesf · 1 year

Text

Check In

What I Did

Worked out

Sent off more gifts

Bought more gifts

Watched a video on an algo

Diarrhea from conveyor belt sushi again…

Thanked my pastor for sending me some Christmas cash

Vocalized a boundary with a family member

Chatted with my cousin

Packed a bag for the LA trip, felt guilty about it, because, although they did me sheisty, when my mom came to the Bay and didn’t see me, that hurt me so much and I have not been able to forget it, so I wouldn’t do that to anyone else in my family, so I turned the invitation down…plus, the girl that invited doesn’t really want my companionship, she just wants a warm body in the car; staying in the Bay this Christmas…

Asked my gym crush’s colleague if he was single

Me: Do you work here?

Her: Yes

Me: You know [gym bae] at the front desk?

Her: Yes

Me: Is he single?

Her: I think so…he’s younger than me.

Me: Oh okay…I think he’s cute

Her: Yeah. A lot of women think so.

Oooff!!

What I Learned

How to find the longest palindrome in a string

Feeling

Kinda dumb…I need to focus more on algos

Healing a bit…getting to a place of accepting my relationship with my family…it sucks, but I’ve put forth a lot of effort, time & tears…possibly too much

I THINK my gym crush likes me…I hadn’t seen him since Wednesday, so I could feel the enthusiasm in him when we finally got to talk! I hope I read him correctly, because I anticipated our convo! He told me he was out sick, and I was so enamored that I reacted to that part late :/ I totally ignored the other dude in the convo who was scheduling my training session that my gym bae recommended I check out

Takeaways

I NEED to wake up earlier and get more algos done…I don’t prioritize the right things in my day…

I need a break from Twitter…I have not been exercising good control

I need to refocus

How I Got Myself Out of a Rut

A little chocolate

Prayer

chatting with some friends

social media

Aneesha Adams’ video on Jamaica! Seems like a beautiful, slow life

youtube

Goals Completed

Found a therapist

Stopped listening to people worried about their own circumstances and remembering God works on his own time and that I am in no rush...

Got back on the ball

Being kinder to myself and stopping guilting myself if my energy isn't always on 100%

Goals After Today

Strengthen my relationship with God

Understand the main concepts I need to from Interview Cake, AlgoExpert, etc. in 6 months, NOT less than 3

Drop my body fat percentage to Marion Jones, Michaela Cole, or Jade Cargill levels

Consistently fight urge to fill up my time with social media/YouTube

Fully forgive my family & build a great relationship with them

Be more confident & faithful

250 steps/hour & 10k steps/daily consistently

Drink more than 64oz a day consistently

Go on a date with a guy I actually like who actually likes me too

Learn more about my gym crush & get him to ask for my number

Get a house similar to that one in Spain

Update my personal app

0 notes

honey-dewey · 3 years

Text

Finding the Right Voice

Frankie Morales/Mute and chronically ill Reader

Word Count: 1,804

Warnings: Reader is both mute and has gastroparesis. Reader throws up once.

After much pestering from the boys, Frankie reluctantly signs up for a dating app, intending for it to be a joke. Until he falls in love. You and him text daily, getting to know each other so intimately despite never meeting. At least, never meeting until Frankie wants to take you on a date. So how the hell are you going to explain to him that you are constantly ill and will never speak again?

Frankie had always thought dating apps were a waste of time. Who the hell actually met the love of their life through the Internet?

Frankie Morales, that’s who.

Of course, he’d been hesitant to tell the boys he’d found someone, mostly because he knew they’d give him shit about it. And they did, of course. But now, months after meeting someone, they realized Frankie was genuinely happy and toned the teasing down.

“I’m just worried!” Frankie said, staring at his phone. “They haven’t responded in days.”

“Dude,” Benny said, gesturing with his beer bottle. “They’re probably just busy. Or out somewhere with shit cell service. I dated a girl like that. She went on vacation with her parents and didn’t call for like. Two weeks. Thought she’d died. But when she got back.” He leaned back, smiling drunkenly. “The apology sex was mind blowing.”

“Okay!” Santiago interjected, throwing an arm around Frankie’s shoulders. “You think they’re on vacay, Fish?”

Frankie shrugged, grabbing his own beer. “I dunno. They aren’t the vacationing type.”

William snorted from across the table. “Just like they aren’t the phone call or meet in person type?”

Immediately, Frankie knew where this was going. “Ironhead.”

“I’m just saying!” William pointed out. “How do we know that Catfish isn’t being, well, catfished.”

Frankie sighed into his bottle. “I don’t wanna talk about it Will.”

Santiago, who was somehow the voice of reason here, nudged Frankie. “You texted yet today?”

“No.”

“Why don’t you?” Santiago suggested. “Then leave it alone for a while. I doubt they’re meaning to leave you, they seem too nice.”

Frankie picked up his phone and opened his texts. Aside from the group chat he had with the boys, the aforementioned number was the last one he’d texted.

Frankie: Hey, haven’t heard from you in a bit. You doing okay?

Twenty miles away from the bar Frankie was in, you were leaned over the toilet in the hospital, hurling away what little applesauce you’d eaten for dinner.

Sitting back against the cold tile of the hospital bathroom wall, you sighed deeply upon hearing your phone ping. Who the hell wanted to talk to you right now?

Of course, it was Frankie.

Settling down in the bathroom, you unlocked your phone and texted him back.

You: I’m so sorry Fish. I’ve been a bit sick.

Fish: You don’t have to apologize for that. Are you feeling any better?

You snorted softly. As if.

You: Not really. It’s just gotten worse. Spent most of today throwing up.

Fish: You’re drinking water, right? Gotta stay hydrated.

You snapped a photo of your half full water bottle a nurse had brought you and sent it to Frankie.

You: Yep! Gotta finish this before I go to bed.

Fish: That’s good

Fish: Wait a second. Are you in the hospital?

You swore silently. How the fuck? Unless he frequented the same hospital as you, how the hell did he even know where you were from that blurry water bottle photo?

You: Yeah, I got here today. Nothing too serious, I was just too dehydrated

You felt bad lying to Frankie, but you really didn’t want to tell him the truth. The truth was too long, too complicated. Frankie would probably leave if he learned the truth.

Fish: I’m not too far away, if you’re at the hospital I think you’re at. Want me to drive you home when you leave?

You: Nah. I’m staying with family rn and it’s a haul to get out there

Another lie, another stab of pain through your heart.

Fish: Okay. I still wanna take you out though. We could get dinner and walk around the park.

You almost started sobbing.

You: Oh Frankie. I wish I could.

As soon as you typed the message, you deleted it. Best not to let him think anything was wrong. Instead, you took a minute and finally replied with,

You: That sounds lovely Fish.

Fish: But?

You: But I don’t think I can.

Back at the bar, Frankie was slumped over the table, staring at your tiny message of rejection.

“Dude, that’s hard,” Benny commented. “I’m starting to think Will might be right.”

“I’m sorry?” William said, coughing as he swallowed wrong. “Say that again?”

“No.” Benny leaned over the table and patted Frankie’s wrist. “I got nothing dude. Nothing.”

Santiago sighed. “Why don’t we stop giving Fish a hard time?” He said, seeing the hard lines in Frankie’s face appear. “They said they were in the hospital, so maybe it’s really bad.”

“You think?” Frankie asked, looking up with wide eyes.

“Maybe,” Santiago said. “They might not want you to worry about them.”

Frankie looked back at his phone, at the waiting message. He picked his phone up and typed one more message before shutting it off and pocketing it.

Frankie: I just wish I could get to know you. For real.

You stared at your phone, tears sliding down your face. Frankie would never know, if you could help it. He’d never know that you were so sick all the time. That you couldn’t eat anything without hurling it up hours later. That you hadn’t uttered a single word since you’d turned sixteen. That you’d never speak another word again.

Putting your phone away, you abandoned the water bottle and shakily crawled back into bed, sobbing silently into your pillow until you fell asleep.

The next morning, a team of nurses checked you over and deemed you okay to leave the next day. You nodded numbly, absently fiddling with a small stuffed toy as they started your laborious morning routine.

“This came for you last night,” a nurse said as everyone left your room. She placed a worn out baseball cap and a folded note on your bed. “From a very nice gentleman who seemed rather heartbroken.”

The nurse left, leaving you to grab the cap and the note.

The cap was worn out, the edges all frayed and the logo on the front nearly illegible. The note was in much better condition.

Hey.

So, I’m sorry about what I said last night, and I feel like a text wouldn’t have made it better. This is my favorite hat. It’s seen some shit, just like me. And just like you, I think.

Look, last night, I sounded like a dick. I want to make it up to you, I really do. But I don’t know how to take you on a date or anything. I sure hope it isn’t because of me that you don’t want to meet. I know my nickname is Catfish but I promise I’m who I say I am.

Tomorrow, I get off work early. If you’d let me, can I pick you up and take you out? Or at least take you back to my place for a movie or something? Please.

Love, your Frankie.

You ran your fingers over the lettering, memorizing how Frankie wrote every single word. Maybe, maybe it was time to open up. The worst that could happen was rejection.

Scooping your phone up, you texted Frankie back.

You: Tomorrow at 4, that’s when they discharge me. Get here early tho, I have some stuff to explain.

The next twenty four hours were hell for the both of you. You were both plagued by so much anxiety it was hard to do even the most basic of tasks, but you managed. Eventually, you received the text you’d been dreading all day.

Fish: I’m here. Visiting room B.

You took a deep breath. All your personal belongings were in a drawstring bag you put over your shoulder. You headed out of your room and slowly down the hall, towards the visiting room.

Opening the door was the hardest thing you’d ever done.

Once you’d opened the door, you stopped in the doorway, taking Frankie in.

He looked exactly the same as he did in his photos. Tall, handsome, kind. He smiled upon seeing you, and you swore your heart stopped.

“Hello,” Frankie said, moving towards you and holding out his hand.

Hello you signed, waiting for Frankie’s reaction.

He paused, his hand falling to his side. “Mute?”

You nodded.

Frankie simply smiled again. “So that’s why you don’t like phone calls,” he said. “It’s okay. I know some ASL.” He paused, taking you in. “Can I hug you?”

Yes please.

He wrapped you in a warm hug, allowing you to collapse into him. Months of text messages and listening to his voice mails were nothing compared to this.

Eventually, he pulled away, and you two sat on the uncomfortable couch.

“So what’s with the tube?” Frankie asked, gesturing to your face.

You pulled a whiteboard out of your bag and began to write, going slowly so you spelled everything right.

I have a condition called gastroparesis. My stomach is paralyzed and won’t move food to my intestines. I “eat” through a port in my side and this tube in my nose leads to my stomach, so whatever I drink can be drained out. I went mute before I got diagnosed with this.

“Oh.” Frankie blinked a few times. “So I guess dinner is off the table too.”

You snorted, laughing as best you could with no voice. No dinner. you signed happily. But a movie would be nice.

“A movie it is,” Frankie said, standing. “C’mon. I’ve got a bunch of movies at my place. And I think the boys are coming over tonight.”

You stood, following Frankie to his beat up old truck. He talked your ear off about all sorts of things while he drove home, and it wasn’t until he’d pulled into the driveway that you’d remembered his hat.

Close your eyes. You signed, digging around in your bag.

Frankie did, laughing when you snuggly placed his hat on his head.

“Thank you,” he said, taking your hands. “I was really worried you’d catfished me at first. I didn’t know what to think when you didn’t want to call or meet. I dunno, I just thought you weren’t, y’know, you.”

You shook your head, pulling your hands out of his. I wouldn’t dream of it.

Frankie smiled. “I love you.”

I love you too Fish.

That night was the happiest you’d been in years. Frankie’s friends were all amazing people, and all three of them immediately overlooked your muteness and illness. You were happy and Frankie was happy. To them, that was all that mattered.

“So Fish,” Santiago said, leaning across the couch to nudge Frankie’s bicep. “Aren’t you glad we forced you to download that dating app?”

Frankie looked at you, curled up under his other arm, sipping water and waiting for the feed bag with your dinner in it to finish draining into your port. You looked up at him, smiling and nestling closer.

“Yeah. I am.”

#triple frontier #frankie morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal #my writing

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skinsharpenedteeth · 3 years

Text

Coming Up Easy - The First Dance

You can also check this out on AO3!!

Michael reclined in bed against the pillows he’d stacked against the wall so he could read his phone, drink a beer, and be semi-comfortable. It’d been a long, long day and he was having trouble winding down from it. He’d put on one of Isobel’s Spotify playlists on random while he dicked around on his phone. He knew what he wanted to do. He’d been scrolling through his photo’s gallery for ten minutes staring at the few pictures he had of them together. He wished he had more. He was pointedly trying to stay out of the private file he had that definitely showed more of them together because he’d been visiting that file way too often since Alex had moved.

Finishing his beer, Michael chucked the empty bottle into the trash and opened a new one. Feeling daring, he shot Alex a text.

Me 10:02 p.m. >> You up?

Alex 10:03 p.m. >> I am. In fact, I’m cooking.

Me 10:05 p.m. >> I call bullshit. You hate cooking.

<<Alex is requesting a video chat session: Accept?>>

Biting his lip, Michael had a second to wonder how he was going to look before saying ‘Fuck it’ and pushing his thumb against the accept key. Alex’s face filled his phone screen and Michael would be lying to say his heart didn’t flutter a little at the sight of his slightly red, smiling face.

“Oh my God, I missed your face,” Alex said without preamble. Michael found himself smiling despite himself.

“Yeah? Need me to send you pictures daily?” Michael teased.

“No, I don’t want to get spoiled. This is a treat for me. I’ve been looking at strangers for weeks now,” Alex replied. Michael was trying not to stare because Alex looked so good and it just made Michael want to go over to his place and tackle him against the refrigerator. He couldn’t though. That sort of thing would take planning and plane tickets and passports and so much more work than it did a month ago. Sighing to himself, Michael tried to keep the conversation flowing.

“Any cute ones?” Michael asked, kicking himself immediately. Alex’s eyebrows drew together for a moment before he wiped the expression away.

“Uh, not yet. I’ll probably have to get on a dating app or something to really meet people,” Alex replied awkwardly, smile turning brittle as he spoke. Faintly, Michael could hear music in the background of Alex’s kitchen.

“So what are you listening to while you cook? And what are you cooking? You burned a peanut butter and jelly sandwich once!” Michael exclaimed, eyes flitting around the screen trying to see behind Alex’s head. Alex rolled his eyes, but his smile was more genuine.

“I’m listening to that new Miley Cyrus song “Can't Stop”. Have you heard it?” Alex asked, moving closer to his Bluetooth speaker and turning up the volume so Michael could listen in.

“No, I haven’t. I’ll have to listen to it later, sounds good,” Michael commented. Alex was closing his eyes and the phone was swaying like he was dancing to the music.

“Oh shit, I’m going to put you down on the counter. I gotta stir,” Alex exclaimed a moment later and suddenly Michael could see much more of Alex’s apartment kitchen and of Alex himself. He was wearing his old MCR t-shirt they’d spent one night turning into a tank top and sweatpants. The large, gaping armholes showed off the hint of muscle on his back and chest and made Michael’s mouth water and his entire body ache with want to touch him. He watched Alex grab a spatula and start stirring it around a frying pan, hips still moving with the beat of the song as he concentrated. Michael had to clear his voice as his mouth went suddenly dry at the visual of those hips in action. Alex had always been good with rhythm, but being best friends with Liz had also given him a swivel to his dancing style that was frankly indecent.

“So, uh, what are you cooking?” Michael asked again, trying not to get too mesmerized by Alex dancing and mouthing the words to the song into the end of the spatula when he wasn’t stirring.

“Stirfry. Something so basic even I can’t fuck it up, hopefully,” Alex joked. He picked the phone up so he could turn the camera for Michael to look in the pan. Looked like soggy frozen veggies mixed with overcooked chicken in something that might’ve been brown sauce.

“Looks great,” Michael lied as Alex put the phone back down. Alex looked at him for a moment and started laughing.

“Okay, it looks like dog vomit, but it’ll be edible. Someone never taught me how to cook, despite being excellent at it,” Alex joked, giving Michael a dirty look through the phone. Fuck, Michael wanted to kiss that look off his face.

“I was trying to make my friendship indispensable to you. Apparently, I failed since you moved to another country and left me to languish in the desert alone and lonely,” Michael said dramatically. Alex barked out another laugh before turning back to the pan and shaking his head down at it. He moved it off the heating element and flipped the dial. Michael watched him as he bent over and settled on his elbows in front of the phone. He looked… well, Michael was glad his own camera was facing front.

“You’re indispensable to me no matter what, even without the cooking lessons. Just you wait, you’ll come up here for a visit and soon I’ll have a roommate,” Alex joked.

“We’ll see about that,” Michael retorted as another song came on. The song immediately sent him back to a small, dusty shed that smelled like sweat, metal, wood, and damp cotton. He could feel Alex’s warm hands on his hips nudging him to shift with the beat to the left and right while they both stared at his bare feet.

“Is this….?” Michael started but stopped as he became sure that it was. Alex had been looking over his shoulder towards the speaker and when Michael spoke up, he turned back to the phone. His cheeks were slightly pink and he looked sheepish.

“Yeah, this is Hellogoodbye. Remembering the same thing I am?” Alex asked, looking at Michael nervously through the phone. Michael let his head fall back against the wall behind him and he took a long pull from his beer before answering.

“Yeah, I think so. You teaching me to dance for prom?” Michael asked, not looking at the phone but hearing Alex clear his voice.

“Yeah, that,” he answered, voice subdued. They fell into silence and Michael had no doubt they were both trapped in a shared memory.

“I don’t even want to go to prom. I’ve managed to miss every other dance in high school, I don’t see why Isobel is so insistent I go to this one!” Michael raged, walking the length of the Mane’s shed back and forth while Alex watched from the futon. They were both shirtless and slightly sweaty, only partially dressed after their makeout and hand job session. Alex was leaned over with his elbows on his knees watching Michael warily.

“It’s just a dance, Michael. Go if it’ll make her happy. I’m going, you can come hang out with me,” Alex said, tone slightly exasperated. He’d been listening to Michael bitch about Isobel’s insistence for him to go to prom for a week already and it was beginning to grate on his nerves. Michael stopped and looked at him, arms raised and expression clearing asking ‘Are you actually agreeing with her?!’. Alex just kept looking at him blankly. ‘Yes,’ his expression replied. ‘I’m agreeing with her.’ With a defeated sigh, Michael let his arms drop suddenly and slap against his sides.

“I don’t even know how to dance,” he mumbled, almost too low for Alex to hear him. Alex gave him a complicated look, somewhere between amusement and pity.

“That’s easy enough to fix. I can teach you that much,” Alex replied, standing up.

“What? No, I don’t want to know! It’s just going to be weird. I’m not going to have anything to do except stand around and drink punch. It’s going to be expensive and lame,” Michael whined, even as he watched Alex go over to his iPod and put it into the stereo he’d brought out to the shed. He ignored Michael’s protests and found a song with an easily recognizable beat. It started up, sounding poppy and electronic, and Michael rolled his eyes. Alex caught him at it.

“Hey, this is going to be easy. Quit being such an ass about it,” Alex griped, coming to stand in front of Michael. He placed his hands on Michael’s hips and looked him straight in the eyes. “Okay. Just follow my movements. Right now we’re just finding the beat.”

Michael swallowed and nodded, throat suddenly dry at the feeling of Alex being close to him and semi-nude and touching him. It seemed Alex put him on a hair-trigger to want sex. With a gentle push and pull, Alex moved Michael and himself back and forth until they were swaying with the beat.

“Okay, this is literally the most basic form of slow dancing. It’s just swaying from side to side. Put your hands on my shoulders and just keep following me,” Alex instructed. Michael raised his arms and lazily draped his arms over Alex’s shoulders like he’d seen every girl do in every teen movie ever. He’d rolled his eyes again as he did it and Alex pinched his side for his sass. “I’m doing you a favor, dipshit. Be nice.”

“Ow! Fine, fine. I’ll be nice. Now what?” Michael asked as they continued to sway. It felt so weird to be standing there in Alex’s shed just shifting his weight back and forth. Without warning, Alex began to pull Michael’s body closer to him while he moved back too. Michael stumbled a little, his foot stepping on the one Alex had kept still.

“Okay, sorry, I didn’t explain. That’s my bad,” Alex apologized once they’d untangled themselves. He grabbed Michael’s hips again and began the original swaying. Once they’d gotten back in rhythm with the song, Alex tried to explain. “So we’re going to basically be moving in a box. Whoever’s leading, so me this time, is always outlining the box with their movements while whoever’s following, you, is tracing the inside of the box.”

Michael gave him a confused look. Making a discontent noise, Alex stepped close until his stomach and hips were resting against Michael’s. Michael gave him a wide-eyed look, wondering if Alex had decided to save dancing for later and more fucking for now…

“Close your eyes,” Alex ordered. Michael closed them obediently, waiting for the gentle pressure of Alex’s lips against his. Instead, Alex continued talking. “Now follow my lead.”

Michael felt the pull of Alex’s body to the right and he instinctually followed. Then Alex moved him backward. It threw Michael off for a second, but then he felt the gentle pressure of Alex’s left leg pressing against his right and he moved that leg back. Then they glided to the left and then Alex was pulling Michael forward. This time he felt which of Alex’s legs was staying still and which was moving away and followed suit. They did this two more times before he felt Alex’s breath by his ear.

“This is a box step. You’re dancing,” he whispered. Despite the heat of the spring day which baked against the poorly insulated shed walls, Michael felt goosebumps break out along his shoulders and chest at the feeling of Alex’s breath against his ear. Opening his eyes, he pulled back to look at Alex’s face and immediately stepped wrong and made them stumble.

“Damnit!” Michael yelled, dropping his arms.

“No, Michael. It’s fine. It just takes practice,” Alex consoled.

“I’m just not made for dancing,” Michael grouched, turning away and taking a few steps to put space between them. The song changed to some other top 100 pop slow jam, and after a minute he felt Alex hook his chin over one of his shoulders and press his chest to Michael’s back. His arms wrapped around Michael’s crossed ones and he immediately started swaying them again.

“You are. Dancing isn’t so different from fucking. It’s about tempo and rhythm and matching or counterpointing movements. You’re great at fucking, you could be good at dancing,” Alex said quietly. He started kissing Michael’s neck and shoulder intently and heat started to pool in Michael’s gut at the feeling of Alex pressing against him and moving slowly. “Maybe you can dance with me at prom and I’ll make sure you don’t make a fool of yourself?”

“You want to dance with me at prom? Isn’t that a bit… public?” Michael asked. He didn’t really mind it being public, but he didn’t want Alex to say something and not realize the consequences.

“We’ll be out of here in a couple months anyway. Fuck ‘em if they can’t hang, right?” Alex said, voice tight behind his teasing tone.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll dance with you at prom then,” Michael replied easily. He turned his head and Alex kissed the corner of his mouth.

“You’re a good friend. I wouldn’t have anyone to dance with either without you,” Alex said. Michael’s heart ached against his ribs, but he nodded anyway.

“We didn’t get to dance at prom,” Alex said simply when the silence stretched.

“No, you had to go get into a fight with Valenti before I could get in from pictures with Iz and Max,” Michael agreed.

“Wish we had,” Alex replied, sounding wistful.

“Yeah, me too,” Michael agreed. The silence was sad now and he hated it. Michael tried to think of something to say. Clearing his throat, he went with the first thing that came to his mind. “So you adding rice to that stirfry or something?”

“Uh, I was going to just get some like minute rice and dump it on top when I reheated this,” Alex explained. Michael grimaced and Alex laughed.

“Jerk,” Alex said, but a smile was back on his face.

“Just let me know if you end up in the hospital with food poisoning. I’ll send you flowers,” Michael replied with a grin.

“Ugh, shut UP! It’s fine!” Alex exclaimed, grabbing a fork from a drawer and scooping up some onto it. “See?!”

He put it in his mouth and Michael waited. He saw him grimace and chew slowly.

“So good, right?” Michael teased.

“It’s fine,” Alex said after swallowing. Michael waited, Alex and he looked at each other through the screen, before Alex grimaced and then stood up abruptly. “UGH, FINE! It’s gross!”

Michael chuckled.

“Poor baby,” Michael cooed. Alex flipped him off but laughed along with him.

“Yeah, poor me. Well, shit. Now I have to clean all this up and I have nothing to show for it,” Alex groused. Michael watched him rub his hands over his face in frustration and stare at the pan of ruined food.

“Going to try again?” Michael asked. Alex looked over at him and shook his head.

“No. I gotta get to bed. It’s already late. This was just kind of a spur-of-the-moment decision anyway,” Alex replied morosely.

“Hey, you’ll get it next time. Just call me and I’ll walk you through it on video,” Michael offered. Alex sighed and nodded.

“Probably for the best,” he agreed. “Well, I better get to bed. It was nice seeing your face.”

“It was good seeing yours. Miss you,” Michael said before he could chicken out.

“Miss you too. Night,” Alex said with a smile.

“Night,” Michael replied before the call ended. He took a deep sigh and set his phone down on his chest before taking a sip of his lukewarm beer.

Damn, he missed that fucker.

#coming up easy #CUE update #wip wednesday #malex wip #malex

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bibbykins · 4 years

Text

Thrills Found On Solid Ground (M)

A/N: I snagged a work at home job! (yay!) Less hours though, which is bittersweet. I will be a little strapped for cash, so I will link my ko-fi below and anything helps, really. I am considering opening up comisions, if anyone would like that, let me know! Less hours means way more time to write so color me a happy camper. As way to celebrate positive changes, and in honor of me putting in my two weeks at my current job, enjoy the next installment in the Soft Yandere BTS fics! Let me know how you feel about it, and I hope you enjoy.

Genre: Fluff, smut, angst if you squint a bit

Word Count: 9.4k

Pairing: Soft Yandere! Namjoon x Reader

Warnings: yandere tendencies, toxic traits, obsessive and posessive male, subtly unhealthy relationship, vaginal sex, cunnilingus

Summary: You had always been an idiot, you mistook this as being a risk-taker, a wild adrenaline junkie. As a result, you found yourself on some dating app, then on a bad date, then on a skywalk 1,000 ft above ground. Looking down, you felt impending doom, clutching to anything, or anyone, you could. You couldn’t have known the stanger you clutched onto, in the middle of two skyscrapers, too high above solid ground, had no plans to let you go.

The sky was clear, the wind combed through your scalp gently, and you watched the world below go about their daily routine. It was a cool day with an overcast, especially for summer, and you would have much rather stayed inside to witness it.

The sky was an ocean to drown in, the air was unbelievably thin, and the people below just looked like little ants to squash with your body hurling to the concrete.

What the fuck were you doing up here?!

You never take risks like this. The harness was choking you out and all you wanted to do was lay down in bed, but here you were: 2,000 ft above your comfort zone and shaking in the middle of log suspended in the sky, the next step looking farther and farther.

It was a dumb idea to put adrenaline junkie in you online dating profile. It was even dumber of you to try and live up to it.

Namjoon, on the other hand, was making his merry way along the gapped bridge. He was in black slacks and a gray button-up, feeling a bit silly with the harnas as well as he walked along in his Oxfords. It was the perks of being a PR head, enjoying the more wild attractions sponsored by the company he was executive for. However, this time, he was to see if this was worthwhile to put the company's name on. Ever the stickler, he only ever trusted his opinion on the matter and not a subordinate's.

He hopped along each log with a small smile, dimples prominent. Yes, he was enjoying himself, but he did feel quite ludicrous in his work clothes hopping along the city skyline. He was still having a good experience, it was serene yet daring, he could see the prospective hype. He felt almost like-

“I'm gonna die!” Namjoon jumped at the pure panic less than five feet behind him, causing him to turn around and bear witness to the scene you hadn't intended to make.

There you were, lip quivering, knees shaking, body quaking entirely as your hands searched desperately for something to hold you steady, “I'm the biggest fucking idiot!” You wailed as staff members began to strap themselves in to retrieve you. However, when the bridge shook with one of their jumps onto the bridged, you begged them to stop, the tears pouring from your face in a way Namjoon had never seen, or bothered to look at before.

It was a pitiful sight, really. You were a pretty girl, and judging by your presentation, only did this as a way to boost confidence. In his study of you, Namjoon hadn't noticed the way you hopped onto his log the moment he was about to turn around. You grasped his hand and he could feel the gravity of your fear.

“Hey, hey.” Your eyes were screwed shut on the log as you held this strangers hand, his voice trying to bring you back to reality, “You… alright?” You shook your head.

For the first time in his life, Namjoon had no knowledge of what to do. A girl was shaking violently and looking to him, of all people, to soothe her. At work, most people avoided his eyes in fear of being reprimanded. He was domineering and had a demanding presence, but here you were, demanding some comfort from him.

“I'm stupid.” You mumbled as you pushed your head into his chest, making a blush of shock and embarrassment bloom on his cheeks. He wasn’t used to such skinship, let alone from a woman. This was more intimate than his run-of-the-mill tussle in the sheets with one-night stands. He should be shoving you away, but you were so, so, soft. “This is why I never leave my house.”

There was something endearing about the odd scenario that Namjoon fought down. He had been through such a song and dance. He's been the love at first sight guy and it never went well. He was not a boy anymore, he was a businessman, one of the most intimidating executives, and yet, you clung to him like a ledge keeping you upright.

Namjoon didn't know what else to do but comfort you as he embraced you shaking form in his arms, “I doubt it,” He spoke softly, “What's your name?” He didn't know what he was doing, but this felt right enough.

“Y/n, you?” You jumped when you felt the bridge move, squeezing the stranger before you a little harder, making yourself cringe at how unsightly you were being, sighing out in a labored cry, “I’m so annoying.” You whimpered.

In reality, Namjoon should let the workers come retrieve you. The logical part of him knew this much. This was more than likely not an uncommon occurrence and they were trained to do this sort of rescue mission. Even so, he wasn't ready to relinquish his rights as safe haven to someone who carelessly shook the bridge and you to the very core.

Namjoon glared to the worker, gesturing to the sign that demanded only two people on the bridge at a time, to which the worker retracted, “Namjoon.” He felt a wave of inexplicable panic crash through him when he felt your grip loosen from his shirt, “Are you ready to walk-”

You shook your head, “I'm an idiot for even getting up here.” Evidently, you couldn't think straight.

“You certainly don't seem like an idiot.” His deep voice soothed your racing thoughts, “Maybe a little naive but-”

“Tell me about it.” You breathed a shaky laugh, “Would you believe me if I told you I was on a date?”

His jaw tightened. Who in their right mind would consider this a good date idea for a recluse? He scanned the area only to see an irritated guy shaking his head before proceeding to the exit. Good. He would only get in the way.

“First one too, so I don't see a second one happening.” You chuckled a bit, enjoying the feeling of the mystery man rubbing your back, “Considering I look more like yours.”

Mine. Mine. Mine. It didn't have a bad ring to it. Maybe the isolation kept his sanity at bay as the smell of your hair grew more and more intoxicating.

“And especially since you've found a new date during it.” You could hear the smirk in his voice and the flirting distracted you from the way he picked you up ever so slightly and took a step towards the next log. His legs were long enough to walk over the gap of sky you so feared.

“What a terrible date you're on then.” You giggled a bit, eyes simply closed as opposed to slammed shut.

“I beg to differ.” He took another step as you were none the wiser, “I've known you for less than an hour and I'm already thinking of where our next one will be.” Now the only thing keeping your eyes closed was the embarrassment of the effect his deep voice had on you.

“H-Hopefully not stranded in the middle of two skyscrapers.” You offered a chuckle as Namjoon made it across to the last step.

“Who's stranded?” His smug voice prompted you to look down only to see concrete. Sweet, sweet concrete.

The shriek of joy you let out when you noticed the stable ground under you was reward enough for Namjoon. When you wrapped your arms around his neck to engulf him in your form, it was bliss, “You're a magician!” You gushed, “I didn't even notice! I barely even felt it! I can't believe I'm alive!” Never in his life had Namjoon seen someone so expressive and fearlessly full of emotion. You went as far as kissing his check, “My fucking hero right here!” You squealed.

Namjoon's body almost seized when he felt your soft lips on his face. You were indeed naive, however, he quite enjoyed what it meant for him. The feeling of your body against his and lips on his face was addicting. He didn't want to let you go. Ever. You were a feeling he had been chasing for what feels like years and he didn't even know it. You were a missing chunk to a fulfilling life he thought he had. He could not let you walk to ground level without a promise to see you again, and again, and again, and-

“Holy moly!” Your gasp snapped Namjoon back to the present. Your eyes were wide as you scanned his face, “You're so pretty!” Your hands cupped his face, “You're like straight out of a romance novel.” You mused mindlessly, you evidently had no filter or sense of personal space. He wondered if you grew up deprived of personal touch or with it all along. Namjoon lost himself in the wonder you held in your eyes. You had a certain innocence that he couldn't quite understand, so trusting. It was in his starlorn gaze that you shook yourself back to reality, “Oh my, I am making a terrible first impression.” You murmured, hands beginning to robotically retract only to have Namjoon hold them in place, “Just touching on you like that, so creepy.” You scolded yourself.

“I beg to differ.” He mused and you realized how well his voice fit his adonis-like face. His smile was warm, making you forget the chill of being up so high. His thumb stroked the back of your hand, “You're hands are… soft.” It was a warm smile with two of the cutest dimples you've seen to accompany it.

“I'm a sculptor-artist-uh-person.” You fumbled through the sentence, not wanting to seem like you're bragging or assigning a title to yourself, “Hence the touching, your facial proportions are really pleasing to the eye and-”

“So are yours.” The giggle that left your mouth was embarrassing to say the least. Never had you been this blatantly flirted with. Never had you liked flirting this much.

“You’re trying to make me swoon right off this roof, huh?” You smiled as you wiped the dried tears around your eyes, trying to salvage whatever makeup was left.

“If there’s anything I've proven today,” He leaned down to look you in the eyes, “It’s that the only way I’m letting you fall,” He brought his mouth to your ear and you shivered, “is if it’s for me.”

“You’re silly.” You broke out into a contagious smile.

----

“And just like that, he enchanted me.” You sighed willfully, “He’s really such a prince.” You mused, eyes closing to envision him, “We've been kinda seeing each other for a little over three months, and it’s been great, so I’m trying to surprise him today with a cute coffee break at work, but I’ve never seen him in action in the serious business world, so I’m nervous.”

The barista at the counter gave you an uneasy smile, “That’s nice, ma’am, so uh… would that be with cream and sugar?”

Your eyes snapped open, “Sorry, right, coffee,” You smacked your cheeks lightly.

“You’re holding up the line!” A man groaned behind you as the other two people behind him avoided eye contact.

“Like yelling at me is gonna make me go faster!” You retorted before turning to the barista, “Yes, please, sorry.” You smiled and he returned it before handing you your tray with two coffee cups and a scone accompanied by a chocolate croissant, “Thank you!” You called as you walked out of the shop, throwing a glare to the man, “Have a great day.” You quipped to him before making your way into the main floor of the skyscraper.

The secretary seemed to assume you were Namjoon’s assistant and informed you that he was on floor 27 and in meeting room 2. You didn’t bother to correct her, instead, you sent her a bright smile as you made your plight to the 27th floor. Your stomach was churning and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the climb or the impromptu date you were trying to have. What if he was embarrassed by you? He was evidently out of your league, even if he never made you feel like that was the case. He was the most gentle and kind man you had ever encountered, but he did say he was different at work. Would he not want you here? Were you being too clingy? He did say he missed you this morning, but he also could have been just saying that. It had only been a couple weeks since you have been dating and he hadn't even kissed your lips yet. Maybe he saw you as more of a friend instead of what you wanted. Maybe you should just go home.

The ding of the elevator told you it was too late to turn back now.

You put on a brave face as you turned a couple of corners to find meeting room 2. You opted to wait until the meeting was over prior to going on. At least that was the plan, until the door swung open to hit your head reveal a string of stiff men and women all leading up to a very straight-faced Namjoon. The man who opened the door seemed to be sweating with a fearful look in his eyes as you rubbed your head.

“Ow, sorry.” You murmured, “Definitely my fault for standing so close-”

“Hwang, what is the matter now…” Namjoon's stern voice quickly trailed off as he met your eyes. The hardness in his eyes immediately softened, only to harshen when he noticed one hand rubbing your head and a look of pain crossing your face, “Meeting is adjourned, we will continue after lunch.” Namjoon spoke up to the bewildered room as he strode to your side, replacing your hand with his as he swiftly took the carrier from your other hand, “Maybe then you will have something worthy of my time to show me.” He quipped as he walked you wordlessly to his office. You took note of the shiver that ran down each of the employee's spines, none of them even taking note of your experience with their heads down in shame or fear, or both.

Namjoon's office was spacious to say the least, most likely half of your apartment. He was so silent you had wondered if you made him angry too. However, as soon as the door shut, he placed the tray on a coffee table and pulled you into a hug, placing a kiss on your head, “Joonie-”

“Are you alright?” He mumbled on the small bump you were developing. You were bewildered at the sudden affection. It was a definite switch from the scary businessman you encountered earlier, “Sweet pea?”

You snapped out of your thoughts with a small jolt, “Yeah, it's just a little dink.” You smiled softly against his chest, “Nothing to fret over.” You sighed softly in his embrace as a smirk grew on your face, “Sweet pea, huh?”

His chest vibrated with a small chuckle as he loosened his grip to look at you properly. His hands cradled your face as he stared at you with a genuine smile, the one you knew and loved, “Sweet pea indeed.” He hummed, “I find it suits you well.” You felt your face heat at this and your face told Namjoon the situation on its own as his smile grew more smug, “So, what has you gifting me with your presence today?”

Namjoon was always happy to see you. Admittedly, too happy. He felt himself falling into a certain love for you that he found to be timed way too soon. He felt his emotions begin to scare him, and he felt a strong need to fire the idiot that hit you with the door. However, when you were with him, everything was okay, just like you said it was. You were the master to his emotions and it terrified him.

“I wanted to surprise you with a small coffee date.” You chirped, “Surprise?” You presented the coffee on the table with a small smile.

Namjoon sat the both of you down on the white leather couch he had in his office, “Thank you.” He was the first to break the silence and you returned it with a quaint smile, “However, I can't help but feel like you're muting yourself.”

You were stiff as a board when he said that. Initially, it was a surprise date, but the elevator ride gave you time to doubt everything. Ideally, you wanted to get clarification on what Namjoon wanted from you, but the words were like a lump of clay in the back of your throat. If you said one, they would all come out.

“Well, it's stupid, really.” You nervously let out a small chuckle, “Childish, possibly?” Your eyes were transfixed on the leather below you.

His hand went to grip your chin and pull your eyes back go him. Your gaze was a drug, “Give me your thoughts, sweet pea.”

You shivered as you looked into his eyes, “I just want to know if… you like me, like I like you.” You forced out, only to try to turn your head away in vain due to his grip, “Oh, I feel silly.” You struggled for a moment, only to huff, "What do you think about me?"

Namjoon fought the urge to clench his jaw. The truthful answer to your question wasn't healthy. He needed more time to work through his intense emotions for you prior to acting on them. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you roughly, pin you to this couch, and have you feel what he thought about after each of your dates. However, he should not, by any means, feel the need to do such. And yet, he did. The way you made him feel so needed and the way he craved you so intensely in return was intoxicating.

He, instead, gave you a polite smile as he took a sip of his coffee, "I think you're adorable." Not technically a lie, but not the full truth you wanted.

Namjoon looked down at the scone, missing your dejected face. What the hell did that mean? Did he not see you as a woman? Were you just his cute friend? Had you been that childish, pining after a man who did not feel the same? You quickly shook the thoughts when Namjoon looked at you and you returned the smile. He noticed how it wasn't nearly as bright as usual and your eyes didn't hold its usual sparkle. Had he done something wrong?

The date, you were less and less sure whether or not to even call it such, went on just as all your others had.

"So how is your exhibition coming along?" He asked as he sipped the coffee.

You smiled and melted at the dimples that came when he returned it, "It's a process," You droned, "Being an artist is all fun and games until you have to pick which snack table won't clash with your work, and don’t even get me started about the business-y things, so boring." You rolled your eyes, "I know what I’m doing, and I know I’m good at it but I almost wish I had a manager, but isolation has become a part of my aesthetic at this rate."

"Well, you always have me," Your heart tugged, "I could help you, always, even just picking a snack table."

You shook your head politely, "I wouldn't wish that on you, Joon." You joked, "You'd think doing the art would be the hardest part of an exhibit, but the stuffy details are agonizing." You droned on, you always felt so comfortable with Namjoon, even if his unofficial rejection weighed in the back of your mind, "Like, who cares about the champagne or dress code, just buy or enjoy my art." You huffed, "I understand I'm lucky to have a career, but sometimes my passion can feel like such a...job." You sighed, "I sound like a spoiled brat."

Namjoon placed his hand on your head delicately, "As someone around stuffy people, and a stuffy person, I understand it's exhausting." He gave you a reassuring smile, "You're not a brat, you're an artist." He placed a hand on your knee, "You put so much whimsy into the world and deserve to experience that in return."

You giggled at this, "Thank you, but you're not stuffy, Joon," You hesitated for a moment, "Heck, you're the coolest guy I know." You offered in favor of your thoughts swarming around. The pain getting harder and harder to ignore.

You made Namjoon laugh, he made you laugh. You both talked about work, but you chose not to comment on his work persona, less and less confident about what to even say anymore. You said goodbye to Namjoon with a small hug, as you always did, and left wordlessly.

Namjoon couldn't help but have a bad feeling as he watched you step into the elevator. Your lip quivered right before the doors shut. Something happened during your date, and for the first time, he had no idea. He surely had to be blinded by his own feelings for you to properly read you. Suppressing these feelings were evidently affecting him, but it was what he had to do to play the long game.

You began to cry when the elevator doors closed, eyes screwed shut as your shoulders shook with your sobs. Namjoon showed you that you wanted a relationship, and yet, it didn't seem like he wanted one, let alone with you.

"H-Hey, don't cry," A hesitant voice caused you to jump, face detaching from your hands as you turned to face the man from this morning.

"You're that...meanie." You sniffled, evidently confused.

He smiled awkwardly, "I'm sorry I was such a prick earlier." He looked uneasy, hand scratching the back of his neck.

You sniffled again, "No, it's not you, I just…" You choked on a sob.

"I doubted it was, but I also doubt I made your day any easier." He spoke softly, "I was visiting my sister at work and she's a nightmare, so I was just taking it out on other people."

"Nobody's perfect." You smiled a bit, before it quickly fell, "Especially me." You whined before sobbing again.

Your sobs were cut off when the man put a hand on your shoulder, "Bad breakup?" You shrugged and he sighed sympathetically, "I know this cry, I do have a sister, ya know?" You lifted your head a bit and his hands wiped the tears that nearly dried on your cheeks, "I can just tell you're a good person." He smiled a bit and you mirrored it, "Any other person would have smacked me sideways earlier, I would've." You breathed a small chuckle that only grew when he grabbed your wrist to make your hand hit his face, "Here, ow." He only ceased when the elevator doors opened to a busy lobby, eyes all on him.

You broke out into full laughter as you both stepped out of the elevator, "Sorry." You giggled to the people in the lobby.

"Nothing to see here." He smiled awkwardly as you both made a bee-line for the exit. When you breached the building you let out a hearty laugh.

"You're funny." You couldn't suppress your laughter.

"Yes, but I'm also Seunghyun, actually." He bowed dramatically.

Your laughter finally died down into a smile, "I'm y/n." You curtsied in response with a chuckle, "Thanks for making me forget about my morning."

"Why don't I give you a better afternoon?" He offered slyly and you paused for a moment. You were more than ready to say no. You had Namjoon after all, right? "I can take you to a nice lunch place and you can take as long as you want to order, I promise." You looked back at the skyscraper. Namjoon was always above you, wasn't he? "I may even pay."

You smiled graciously at Seunghyun, "Of course you will, you owe me." You playfully said, skipping ahead of the stuttering man.

Namjoon sat at his desk, back facing the window where his worst nightmare would be in clear view. Instead, he scrolled lovingly through the texts you both shared. He carefully thought about how to bring up dinner for tonight. Despite not even asking yet, he had already fantasized about what you would wear. Maybe tonight would be the night he would get a kiss from your lips. He sent the text in the midst of his fantasies. Would you wear lipstick-

You said no.

You rejected him.

You said you had a date.

Namjoon stood promptly to avoid crushing his phone with his bare hands. Never in his life had a woman rejected him, and when the one he craved so desperately did, he did not react gracefully. Not that anything he had done upon meeting you had been graceful. Even so, they were merely fail-safes, and he had failed.

He sprung into action immediately, opening his personal laptop to scroll through the contents of your phone. His company owning your phone provider did wonders for your accessibility levels. Even so, you hadn't received any texts. There had been no one else added to your contacts. How did you have a date? Did you lie to him?

Why would you be with someone else? What did he do? He groaned in frustration he didn't understand your more zany emotions.

He lifted his head up in realization. That's it! He needed to understand your emotions. You were one of a kind, but he was as much of a disaster as Yoongi, and Yoongi has a girlfriend.

Namjoon quickly dialed Yoongi's number. The older male answered with a bored, "What?"

"I need to talk to your girlfriend." Namjoon spoke with urgency evident in his voice, time was running out.

"No-"

"Min Yoongi!" The aforementioned female's voice could be heard in the background.

"Sunshine, he doesn't need to hear your voice- hey!"

There was an evident scuffle, "I'll put him on speaker, you big baby." She quipped before taking a breath, "How can I be of assistance?"

Namjoon sighed out, unsure of where to begin, "I have this girl I really, really like, but I know I shouldn't like her this much, so I'm trying to take it slow." He frowned, "But today, I don't know what I said wrong, and now she has a date with someone else."

There was a long sigh, "You guys are terrible with being honest." Namjoon could tell she was glaring at Yoongi, "You evidently said something dumb, did she ask you anything?"

Ask him anything? You asked him about his day. You asked him if he liked the coffee. What else is there to ask? Until it dawned on him.

"She asked what I thought about her and I said she was adorable." Namjoon explained, "I don't see what's wrong there, she is-"

"Yoongs, hold the phone, I might just smash it." The female was rolling her eyes evidently.

"What's wrong, Sunshine?" Yoongi spoke, "I don't get it, he complimented her."

"Ugh, of course you don't." She retorted, "Why did you think I almost went out the night we...got together? You weren't," She put her mouth close to the speaker to prove a point making Namjoon miss when she was still timid around him with the frown he deepened, "Being honest with me." She accentuated each word, "Poor girl can't read your mind, she doesn't want to waste her time pining after someone who doesn't pine back properly." The female sighed again, "Seriously, the seven of you are nuts, I know, but come on," She groaned in frustration, "You all have the looks and the status, maybe use your brain while you're at it."

Namjoon slumped in his chair. Yoongi's girlfriend had a point. Namjoon should have made it painfully clear you were his. Not just to you, but everyone else. Maybe he was crazy, but that didn't change the validity of his emotions for you. You were all he could think about anymore. He just wanted to have unrestricted access to you, but he took it slow, and now he's falling behind. You were trying to leave him. He couldn't let it happen.

He wouldn't.

This was a bad idea. You slumped against your seat as you twirled your straw. You were unamused and Seunghyun was becoming less and less funny and even less charming as time ticked by.

This date was going terribly. Seunghyun was undoubtedly obnoxious. You were agonizingly bored as you sat in the dimly lit restaurant which you were ill-dressed for. It was far too fancy for lunch, and you could not read the french on the menu, so you ordered a sandwich and a water. You watched Seunghyun with a tired face. He really thought you took long to order this morning? It had been 10 minutes of him asking about the wine menu. Namjoon always knew-

No, no, none of that. Seunghyun was a nice guy, everyone had their quirks.

You gave the waiter a sympathetic smile as he stalked off, "So," You drawled, catching Seunghyun's attention from his phone, "What do you do for a living?"

"I am a pharmaceutical rep." He stated, all too proudly, "I go to medical offices and get the doctors to prescribe the meds I'm in charge of, making a pretty hefty commission over some phony drops with a fancy label." Your jaw clenched at this. You had your time as a receptionist. Some were nice but most of the reps were pushy assholes with name brand and expensive meds.

Be nice. You chided yourself, "Shouldn't doctors prescribe what is best, not what is sold to them?" So much for that. You really didn't know how to shut your mouth, "Pharmaceuticals are a very controversial field." You pondered aloud.

Seunghyun seemed to pay you minimal mind, eyes already geared to his phone, he wasn't listening, "And what do you do?" He was on autopilot.

"I'm an artist." You spoke politely, “I do mixed media, but my favorite thing is to sculpt with clay.”

This made his head snap up, "Oh, and here I was going to see if you want to split the check, but I guess not." He laughed a little too hard and you blanched.

Okay, he's an asshole.

No, maybe you're misunderstanding.

"Why not?" You offered him a shovel to dig his way out through clenched teeth.

"Well, you know," He suddenly was a lot less cute, "You're an 'artist'," You wanted to bite the finger quotes off his hands, "Unless you, ya know, dance, then maybe you can pay for the meal." He dug himself deeper, and yet you felt stuck.

Nope, definitely an asshole.

You ate in silence, and you wondered how such a crappy sandwich could cost so much. Namjoon always took you to a variety of places with great food.

Namjoon. You missed him. You missed his soft touches and kisses on the forehead. You missed the way he made your heart flutter. You missed how he spoke to you, how he would profusely apologize if he had to take a phone call. You missed the way he was as equally interested in what you had to say as you were with him.

You felt dejected at the very thought of his name. God, you really were naive to think someone like him would just come to you. You needed to confess properly and move on if he rejects you. You would move on, but, your eyes flicked to Seunghyun as you watched him stare at his phone as he ate, you would be more mindful of who. This date was a waste of time and money on both parts.

When the check came, Seunghyun paid it in the most obnoxious way as he joked with the very uncomfortable waiter. Before leaving, you took out cash for a good tip, doubting Seunghyun had the decency to leave one.

Namjoon drove to your house and used your spare key to get in. He was not thinking as clearly as he should as he set up candles and dinner for you. You were his, though. He had to make it up to you for not proving it sooner. He could only hope you would be back from this date soon. He was beginning to get antsy, not even entertaining the thought of you not coming home. Never in his life had Namjoon felt such a sense of urgency.

After setting up the dining room, Namjoon sat in the living room, facing the door on your frilly sofa. He had been to your place several times. It was nice, and coincidentally, one of the complexes he bought when he was into property acquisition. However, he could hardly wait for your lease to end and you could live with him. Surely you would want to? His place had more space for your art and it was a more convenient area. He could give you the world if you just gave him another chance.

Namjoon jerked when he heard a key unlocking the door. All he could do now was hope you were alone. He had no idea what he would do to any man you brought home.

You closed the door with a defeated thud as you leaned your head against the door, back to the rest of the apartment. You heaved a sigh before removing your shoes. You shook your head at today's events. You should've just stayed home.

You rolled your shoulders back before turning to put your purse away… only to scream upon seeing a male figure on the couch, "What-I… Joon?" You cocked your head as he stood, making his way to you, "What are you doing here?!"

He gave you a small smile, walking closer to you, "Apologizing." He stopped a hair short of being pressed against you as he towered over your form.

"F-For scaring the shit out of me?" You gasped when he ran his nose along your neck, inhaling your scent, thankful to find no one else's, "Joon, what has gotten into you?" You spoke shakily as you took a step back only for his strong arms to wrap around your waist, pressing you against him.

"I don't just think you're adorable." He breathed as you shuddered at his voice in your ear, "I'm so absolutely smitten, I was too cowardly to say anything." Your eyes would've shot open had his lips not fanned over your neck, making them close in bliss, "But I can't stand by and watch someone else try to take you from me." His voice came out as a growl and you felt yourself tingle at his sudden dominance.

"Take me away?" Realization dawned on you as you recalled your last message to him, "The date was a mistake." You blurted out and Namjoon pulled away from you ever so slightly, "He was super boring, annoying, patronizing, but what mattered most to me," Your hands locked behind his neck, "He wasn't you." You mused, and Namjoon leant down to catch your lips between his own without missing a beat.

You immediately responded mirroring his desperation as you clung closer to him. The kiss was soft at first as he massaged your lips with his plump ones. You gasped when he nibbled on your lower lip, giving his tongue one of the openings he craved to feel. His tongue entered your mouth with a delighted groan on his end that made your knees week.

Namjoon was high on the feeling of your mouth as he explored every crevice. He groaned upon stroking your tastebuds, his own picking up how sweet you felt for him. You moaned out when he sucked on your tongue and you felt his teeth graze the pink muscle as he let out a short grunt.

Never in your life had you been kissed like this. He was soft yet rough and you craved him. You took the initiative to take his tongue into your mouth and return the favor, suckling on the muscle only to have his hands grip your hips harder while he grunted. You understood why he did it to you first, it felt good. It was oddly erotic, and the feeling only furthered as your lips were against his. The hand gripping your hip squeezed and you let out a small groan, the anticipation between your legs only growing as you felt you knees buckle, thighs clenching.

Your sounds were putting him in a nearly hypnotized state as his hand went to stroke your thigh and you shuddered with anticipation. He let his fingertips drag across the skin while both of your mouths melded to one another. You whined when his hand teasingly dipped towards your core only to quickly move to the back of your thigh.

Namjoon couldn't help the smile that grew on his mouth at your brattiness. You wanted him. You wanted him so bad. He was the center of your desires and the feeling was the only aphrodisiac he needed. He held the key to everything you want. He was in control.

"Joon, I want you." You breathed, air dripping with lust.

"Whatever you want, baby," He dipped his tongue into your mouth for just a moment, "Just say the word, and I'll give it to you." One of your hands trailed down his toned body as your eyes were hooded, head clouded with lust.

You glanced up at him just as you hand made contact with his prominent bulge through his undoubtedly Armani suit pants. You watched, tongue peeking out of your mouth, as his head lolled back a rumble in his chest as he grunted when you squeezed the outline of his base, "Give it to me," You gave another squeeze, reveling in his deep moan, "Please." You nearly moaned the magic word before breaking from his hold to prance ahead of him to the bedroom.

Namjoon couldn't suppress the laugh that left him as he watched your ass while you plopped on the bed. With an extra pep in his step, he followed you to the bed, loosening his tie as he made his way to you.

He was in control, but you knew just how to bend him to your will.

The gravity of the situation hit you like a train as Namjoon unbuttoned his blazer, eye contact unwavering as he tossed it on the couch. The white dress shirt outlined his sculpted body ever so slightly and you let out a shaky breath, letting you head hit the bed as you leaned back, panties mindlessly showing from beneath your sundress.

This wasn't a fantasy or a dream, it was your life. This man was about to fuck you into oblivion and you had no idea how to make him feel good. Your previous experience did not prepare you for this at all. Your previous lovers had all been both ugly inside and out idiots who could barely get themselves off, let alone you. Not that you were a sex god yourself. You never sucked their dick before, nor did you have any idea how to effectively. Not that they ever went down on you. Oh shit, did you shave? Does he care? How does your breath smell? How could you not have considered-

"Fuck!" Your back arched as Namjoon pulled your underwear to the side, tongue licking a stripe up you bare slit.

Namjoon hummed in delight of your taste, dark eyes making contact with yours. He was warning you. He was telling you not to wander away from him. While he loved your overactive mind, he required your full attention. He needed you 100% with him in this moment, "You taste divine." His voice was heavy, "More." It was almost primal the way he slipped your panties down your legs, enjoying the way the dainty dress looked framing the bare sex. He elected to keep the dress on for now as he pushed the flowy fabric up to your hips which he leaned into your pussy.

Your eyes rolled back at the sensation of his tongue licking a deeper stripe, parting your lips with the muscle as he gather your juices on his taste buds blissfully. Your body shuddered at your own pleasure, "J-Joon." Was all you could manage as each short lick went deeper making you squirm.

"You're so fucking sensitive, fuck." He grunted, the dress fabric he held at your hips wrinkling under his closed fists as he went to work on your clit, sending your over the edge as you came quickly and with minimal effort on Namjoon's part.

However, instead of stopping him, the flow of juices only further spurred his as his mouth went to pay more attention to the very hold he couldn't wait to have for his out as his tongue lapped up the liquid, the lewdness and oversensitivity making your body jerk in vain. Namjoon had your hips held firmly in place as he enjoyed his meal. His tongue entered you and he let out a moan against you at how tight you felt just from his tongue fucking you.

"Too much- it- I came already- shit!" You attempted to roll your hips against his mouth as he overstimulated the brain function out of you. His tongue fucked you better than anyone in your past had as his nose nudged against your clit. When he pushed his tongue as deep as he could he could feel you squeezing. With this encouragement, he began to move his tongue ever so slightly, sending you over the edge again as your back rose from the bed, chest to the heavens, "Joon!" You moaned wantonly before deflating as Namjoon slowly withdrew his mouth from you, "Fuck me." You were breathless, fingers weak as he watched you attempt to unbutton your dress. He hesitated, but nevertheless assisted you as your dress was now spread, your body nearly bare until you unhooked your bra, "You'll give me what I want, right?" You pouted as you gossed the bra off your body and he felt his mouth water as he soaked in your body.

"I'll always give you what you want, my love, but you should rest a bit-"

"But I don't just want it." You struggled to catch you breath in the lusty atmosphere, "I need you, Sir."

Never in Namjoon's life had he stripped himself bare so quickly. Your words sent him into a frenzy until he was just as bare as you. You outstretched your arms and he leaned down so you could run your hands over his toned chest and stomach. He guided in and he hissed as your nails scratched his muscular body at the stretch. Despite this, you were nearly drooling at the pain, Never had being stretched felt good, but you couldn't get enough. You wanted to be full.

You shifted your body down and both you and Namjoon moaned out in harmony as you were now wrapped around his entire length. He cursed, "Fuck you're so tight for me, sweet pea." His moans were low as he moved ever so slowly, shallow thrusts as you went wild beneath him, "Look at you, squirming, stretching, such a brat." He thrusted hard and you squeaked, "You can never have enough, huh?"

Another hard thrust shook your bed as Namjoon leaned over you, his forearms on either side of your head as your arms clawed at his muscular back, "Never enough of you, Sir." You could hardly consider your words, but they struck Namjoon as he caught your mouth in sloppy kiss as he sped up. You made him alive as the pleasure only added to the high. The ruthless pace shook the bed even harder, much to your delight.

"I love you, baby." He was beyond fucked out as he chased his climax inside of you.

You were even more fucked out as you felt another orgasm approaching, and quicky, "Fuck, fuck, I love you Joon, I-" You cut yourself off with a scream as you clenched around Namjoon's girth.

This, along with your confession, sent him over the edge as he came, deep thrusts slowing down as he painted you from the inside with warmth you enjoyed. He slowly slid out of you and groaned lowly at the suction you provided until he was fully detached from you. He let out a heavy breath as he leaned over your form, placing a kiss on your neck before burying his face in it. You welcomed his weight as you both gathered yourselves.

Ten minutes must've gone by until Namjoon broke the silence beyond bated breath, "I meant it." He murmured and your heart squeezed.

The fear of your next words dissipated the moment pushed himself up to look at your face. He looked as though he was about to back track, but you didn't let him, "I did too." You gave him one of your signature smiles, "I love you, Sir." You teased and gasped when you felt his dick twitch ever so slightly.

"Brat." He playfully seethed before attacking your face and neck with soft kisses, making you giggle.

----

You made your plight up the skyscraper for the second time with a less nervous aura. It had been a couple months or so since Namjoon and you had sealed the deal, so to speak. Things had been going great. He was the best boyfriend you could've asked for. He was supportive, kind, attentive, and all good things between. Recently, however, he had been extremely busy, and you had been extremely bored. You were in between exhibitions and had already beat deadlines for the next one, so you were left with cancelled dates and your hand. Of course you helped him with work with your limited skills.

The tray of drinks and a bag of food occupied your hands as you took a peek at your watch. Another day of overtime for your loving boyfriend. You just about had it eating alone for these past couple weeks. He fucked your brains out and then abruptly had no time to after a short two weeks of domestic and euphoric bliss. It wasn't fair. Thus, you took matters into your own hands. He had a strategy meeting which, as he explained, would consist of him scolding his employees. Logically, you would hate to intrude, but selfishly, you wanted to see him.

Surely he wouldn't spend over two hours overanalyzing his subordinates' work and scolding them?

Right?

"...Turn to page 13 of the report and see where I've highlighted the blatant misinformation on line 7." Namjoon's voice was sharp despite being as exhausted as his employees. Monday was a big presentation he had to entrust to the newer employees and upon reviewing the handouts to accompany a good-enough pitch, he was severely disappointed. There had been typos, incorrect graphs, and blatant lies littered throughout. To top it off, the slacking managers signed off on it prior to it reaching Namjoon. This left him no choice but to cut hours in the week to make time for this colossal scolding for lack of attention to detail, "It's beyond me how anyone expected this to be remotely acceptable to present in front of me, let alone investors. This fairy tale book was a grandiose waste of my time, and for what? To save some of you managers a couple minutes of revision?" The department heads shrunk in their seats under his razor sharp gaze. The booklet was littered with yellow and pink highlighter marks along with red pen notations, making them feel like school children. Even so, Namjoon had been known to terminate and replace entire teams in the span of time he spent revising the proposal. With this in mind, the workers were just thankful to have a job to speak on.

The atmosphere was tense, filled with anger and shame among the employees until, "Tsk, tsk, tsk, it's like the principal's office in here." Your cheery voice sliced through the tension as you clicked your tongue playfully, "Nothing like a good scolding from the boss man."

"Sweet pea?" You flashed a smile and the employees attempted to shield their whiplash from Namjoon's suddenly cheery tone, "What are you doing here?"

You held up the food, "Being selfish." You winked at him before addressing the sweating office workers, "Hello! My name is y/n, nice to meet you!" You politely bowed and were met with wary smiles. The workers glanced to Namjoon only to see an uncharacteristic smile on his face, “I’m Namjoon’s girlfriend, and I have heard so much about you,” You beamed, “Mostly good things, believe it or not.” You winked as you nearly skipped your way to the aforementioned boss man, “Don’t mind me, dear, I can wait for you.” You smiled cheekily as you sat next to an extremely sweaty employee.

“Well, darling, I imagine they have heard quite enough of me today.” Namjoon mused as his hand went to pat your head affectionately, not caring about his stunned subordinates, “I’ll let you decide what I should do from here, because I still have some materials to go over, but I’ll make an exception in favor of your judgement.”

Hopeful eyes darted to your form. The employees studied you. You were dressed in colorful clothing, playful earrings hung from your ears as your nails shined with the glitter you gleefully painted on them. Your eyes were bright, eager, ready to take on the world it seemed. The employees couldn’t help but wonder when they used to have that shimmer. Some of them had bitterly determined you were some gold digger or mindless trust fund baby. You hadn’t been the sharp, calculated, female version of Namjoon they would’ve pictured his girlfriend to be. That, plus Namjoon was very evidently in love with you. Never had they seen him cut a meeting short for anyone, even the other directors had to wait outside the meeting room.

You leaned your chin onto your palm, tapping your cheek in thought. Namjoon would occasionally ask for your advice, your minor in business management finally coming into use. You were definitely the good cop to Namjoon’s drill sergeant, especially when it came to this proposal, “Well, what say you all get an extra credit opportunity?” Your voice was melodic as you stood, “I was initially coming up here to redo the proposal myself, since Joon was going to… uh…” You trailed off, unsure how to put it.

“Y/n here was the lovely pink highlighter, has been offered the position of Co-Director by the CEO herself, and she has the credentials to replace all of you.” His voice made the crowd of office workers flinch, while some of them eyed your gleeful form in shock while you gave another smile, “I had been debating whether to suspend the lot of you without pay or terminate you, but it seems y/n is your savior tonight.”

“You give me too much credit.” You lightly slapped his bicep shyly as the employees held in a gasp at someone coming in contact with the ruthless and cold director, “Why don’t you all redo the proposal, hm?” You flicked your wrist to look at your watch, “You have about three hours before it becomes alarmingly late, it’s not safe to be in garages that deep into nightfall.” You showed them actual concern, “I’ll be more than happy to look it over when you believe you're done before it gets to the big boss man, here, but I hope you all will carefully check your own work too.” You were met with thankful glances, “I’m much more forgiving than Joon here, but if I find you squander this chance, not even I can save you, okay?” Frantic nods were tossed your way and you beamed at them with an infectious smile, “Great!” You clasped your hands together, “Joon and I will be in his office eating, I brought some little snacks for you all too.” You mused placing the plastic bag you had in your purse on the table, “Good luck!”

The moment the door shut to Namjoon’s office, you were in his arms, “Why don’t you talk sweet to me instead, baby?” He murmured against your ear, “I don’t like how they look at you when you smiled like that.”

You pulled back to place a quick kiss on his lips, “I don’t like how you don’t look at me when things like this happen.” You countered with an irresistible pout which he quickly kissed away, “Plus, they only look at me like that because you’re so spooky.” You pointed out as you sat on the plush leather couch.

"I have been pretty absent, huh?" He scratched the back of his neck as he plopped down next to you.

"We've only exchanged business emails about that dumb proposal basically." You huffed, "Then, you make me all flustered in front of the poor souls by-"

"Pointing out how amazing and capable you are?" His eyes flickered to you as he took a bite out of the meal your brought him, "I could see the way some of them looked at you, like you didn't know what you were talking about." He seethed, "Not to even mention how some of them looked at your body. It's so disrespectful, I had to let them know that if I had it my way you would be the only one in my department."

You placed a hand on the clenched fist Namjoon had. He always got extremely worked up each time you were treated as anything less than royalty. You could only thank the stars that he didn't know you while you were beginning your career as an artist, who knows what he would have done to the countless creepy property managers and haughty curators. Surely, it would be a bloodbath. Figuratively, you like to say. Namjoon would never hurt a fly, but when it came down to people who looked at you with anything he deemed an ill-intent, he would just about see red. You couldn't say you hated this trait, because an extremely selfish part of you enjoyed his undying love, and proved to reciprocate his resolve when the tables were turned. However, you were thankful you could quell the fire he stoked with rage. You were thankful he told you such emotions before they got out of hand.

You watch as his hand relaxed, gripping yours tenderly as he smiled, "Well, as long as they know you're not just mine, but you're the most invaluable asset I could ask for."

You chuckled at this, "You need to work on your sweet talk, it seems you're still in director mode." You placed as short kiss on his lips, "But I love you for it anyway." You giggled a little, "But if I go another stretch of time without attention again I'll be much more impulsive than a late night dinner." You couldn't call Namjoon the crazy one when his affection proved to be a drug you needed constantly, a drug you could feel the withdrawals from. Just like any addict, you could get unhinged without it.

Namjoon nodded, understanding better than anyone what you meant before bringing you in for a longer kiss. He knew better than anyone what neglect could do to the human mind, especially when the attention was so addicting. He knew what crazy meant, and he would never dream of making you feel as he does all the time. His skin pricks when your hands aren't on him, his hands tremor without your own within them, and he finds his mind wandering to darker places at the thought of all the people who look at you just as he can. He had too much power, too many resources at his disposal to be devoted to you. Maybe you knew this. Maybe you both had too much to loose if it meant losing each other.

Maybe being with a man as potentially dangerous as he could be was the adrenaline you needed all this time. An addictive thrill. Your constant fix of dopamine and you, his continuous flow of serotonin.

The both of you junkies for one another.

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