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#willing to throw hands with anyone he sees. would have been a big “huh??” moment for jason and co
starry-bi-sky · 3 months
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what piercings does Danny have in your CFAU?
Danny’s got double lobe piercings on both ears, and then helixes, and an orbital on one side! Then he’s got an eyebrow piercing on the right side of his face. I don’t have any particular reason for why he’s got piercings as an adult, I just thought it’d be a fun way to indicate a physical change from when he was 14 and last saw the Waynes, to the next time they see him. Although with this version of Danny (rather than my original, unserious beta version of CFAU), it probably would follow that he'd potentially get piercings when he was older. (So not a total shock)
#dpxdc#dp x dc#cfau#childhood friends au#cfau danny#piercings#danny did his lobe piercings at home but the upper parts were done by a professional in the ghost zone#his ghostly healing means he couldnt go to a human piercer it’d heal in an instant#i’ve considered giving him snakebites. or a tongue piercing#guys with piercings >>>#playing dress up with your characters is the best part of making an au!#its also lowkey a relic to what my original childhood friends au was like in my head when it was still more of a 'daydream au'#which was more cracky and unserious. it leaned more into danny being more like his pre-canon self ie: meekish and shy when he was in gotham#so him having piercings/being more confident/cursing/etc the next time they saw him would come off as more of a drastic change considering#the last time they saw him (when jason was alive) he was a skittish and quiet kid. bookish. him turning out all goth-rock and punkish and#willing to throw hands with anyone he sees. would have been a big “huh??” moment for jason and co#hey wouldn't it be fun if jason had a childhood friend who moved away when he was a kid and returned to kill#the joker after he died? and that friend looked almost unrecognizable from his memories?#'daydream aus' are what i call aus that aren't all that serious and stem from listening to music and daydreaming. they're largely silly#unserious. and more “hah wouldnt this scene/idea be fun” and would've been harder to write down as a longform au. cfau stemmed from me#listening to music and going and then it spiraled from there.
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Could you do scaramouche accidentally confessing in an arguement ? ( roommate au is u can? Plz i dont see enough of these 😕🙏)
OMG SAMEEEE —!!! Roomate AUs are such a rare breed 😭 and I’d be happy to write this ! Tysm for the ask, anon !!!
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[ The ACCIDENTAL confession ]
You scowled, your fist clenched around a crumpled piece of paper. After hours of searching, you’d finally found it crumpled up in the trash—
It was the assignment for tomorrow’s class, and it had been on the table when you’d left the apartment.
Your roommate, Kunikuzushi was lounging on the couch and scrolling through his phone, as though he hadn’t broken one of the ground rules…
“Kuni, I told you not to throw out my stuff.”
You spoke, your tone was slightly higher, likely due to your slight irritation.
You both had talked about this. When moving in together, you’d each set out a few ground rules— One of them, was to not throw out anything that was obviously yours.
Kunikuzushi looked up at you, scoffing as he set down his phone.
“I said if there was shit on the floor, especially papers, I would throw them away… Remember? I’m not in the habit of checking what things are, if it’s paper and it’s on the floor, it must be unimportant.”
Kunikuzushi spoke, his tone clipped. You grit your teeth, eyes narrowing in annoyance.
“It was on the table, in the kitchen—! I didn’t just throw it on the floor, you know?”
You grit out, and he shrugged.
“Shouldn’t have left it where it would fall on the floor, then.”
You bit your lip, tears building up in your eyes.
He could be such a jerk, at times!!! Yeah, he had his cool moments— That was the ONLY reason you could stand to live with him. He could be really fun at times, but still—!!
Still, rarely was he ever willing to take even part of the blame for something, if he felt he didn’t do anything wrong.
What made it worse was that it only seemed to be YOU that he treated that way. He was fine with working with just about anyone else, if he felt it was necessary— Why you?! Was it because you two lived together?!
That wasn’t an excuse! If anything, he should be more willing to work with you—! You shared a space, after all!!!
You rarely ever got any sincere apologies from him and this was just—!
“I’m not even going to get a sorry?!” You hiss, your voice shaky.
He looked up, his eyes widening a fraction at the expression on your face—
“Why should I? You left it where it would fall. It’s just a paper, and I know full well you type them first anyways. Just print another copy. You’re getting all worked up over nothing.”
He said, returning to his phone.
At that point, you let out a harsh breath, your vision blurred slightly by frustrated tears.
“You’re ALWAYS like this—! You’re never willing to bargain, or apologize, or admit to ANYTHING if it means you’re even slightly in the wrong! I’ve SEEN how you talk to others, too! Why is it only ME that you treat like this, huh?! Is living with me that horrible?! You’re so conceited !!! If you looked past that big ego of yours for a second, then maybe you’d be able to SEE how upsetting stuff like this is but NOOO—! You can’t drop the attitude for a single second!”
You burst out, your fists shaking.
Kunikuzushi stood up, gesturing to you with his hands.
“This is why! Besides, I’m not entirely in the wrong! Sorry for throwing out your shitty paper! I said when you and I first decided to live together, that I have a tendency to straighten things up! You’re so sensitive at times, like fuck! I can’t believe I fucking find you attractive!”
You’re about to yell out a response, when what he said processes in your mind—
Apparently it processes in his, too, as his eyes widen and he immediately makes a beeline towards his room.
“Wait—! Agh! Ughhh! I’m—! You! Kuni! Kuni, do you mean that?!”
You ask, the crumpled paper in your hand leaving your mind.
There’s a few moments of silence, until finally a muffled response is given.
“Yeah, I mean it… Sorry, about your paper, and whatever else I did wrong… You’re not sensitive, either… I’d be pissed too…”
You stare at the door, dumbfounded. The anger you felt earlier has entirely dissipated at this point, and now all you feel is a numb sort of shock.
“Okay… You’re not conceited. I was just mad… I’m sorry for yelling, and um… I like you too?”
You said, your tone still slightly shaky. You hear a harsh laugh from the other side of the door, and then movement. Kunikuzushi’s door swung open and the next thing you knew, arms were wrapping around you. Your cheeks burned and you returned the embrace, shakily.
This was proving to be one of the weirdest nights you’d ever had, but well—
It explained why only you two seemed tense.
You let out a soft sigh, pulling away from the hug.
“So are we dating…?”
Kunikuzushi gave you a deadpan look, “I would hope so, after all that…”
You nod, a small smile forming on your face.
You still had to reprint your paper, but that could wait a little bit longer…
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pttucker · 6 months
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WTF JOONGHYUK!
Is this why you told Dokja to prepare his heart? Was it actually because you were plotting to betray him?
Well, okay, betray is a bit of a hefty word considering the reason he did it and how it all ended, but still!
Oh man, and his reason. 😭 I actually thought quite a while back that maybe Dokja was (intentionally or not) preventing Joonghyuk from gathering enough stories to become a constellation by “stealing” all of his big moments but I never thought it’d end up like this. Yoo Joonghyuk of all people just completely losing all faith in himself and believing that he’s not the one to carry everyone to the end, Dokja is and Dokja keeps dying! (Who’s the sunfish now, huh?)
Dying and disappearing and who knows what else and Joonghyuk just wants it to stop. He wants to protect him from himself if necessary and is willing to make Dokja his slave and completely lose all future trust of his companions if that’s what it takes.
And he’s so concerned about their other companions! Oh man, he’s completely unwilling to express anything to anyone but the one place he can express himself is the silly little Midday Tryst that Dokja started all those years ago. He’s just been sending message after message off to Dokja about how worried he is about their companions. Messages that he doesn’t actually know will ever be read since he doesn’t even know if Dokja is still alive. Oh man, it's almost like he was speaking to Dokja's spirit all those years. 😭
"So you want the right over my life and death?" A calm anger flared in Yoo Joonghyuk's eyes. "At least this way, you won't be willing to sacrifice yourself again and the others… they won't do anything unnecessary."
Oh, Joonghyuk. Inside you are secretly the softest person in this whole dang novel, I swear. Ugh, and the Fourth Wall calling Dokja out on it all saying “you wanted this, you wanted to be Joonghyuk.” And now it’s completely screwed with Joonghyuk’s head because why do they even need Yoo Joonghyuk? They have Kim Dokja. He's a constellation, a demon king, and, most importantly of all, a ‘prophet’ who knows far more than Joonghyuk does, a man who’s able to weave his future knowledge into schemes that can neutralize opponents a thousand times his physical strength without losing a single party member. Ughhhh and even Dokja’s silly little “I am Yoo Joonghyuk” is probably screwing with his head because look! Kim Dokja can be Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk! The actual Joonghyuk is redundant! He’s a main character who has no story. 😭 The best he can do now is make everyone hate him by becoming a traitor and ensuring that Dokja doesn’t throw his life away. And it’s so extra painful because while Joonghyuk is thinking “it would've been better if I was like you” we have this on the other side: 「 On the other hand, Kim Dokja felt somewhat stronger. 」 「 It was a habit he had since his school days. In important moments of his life or in moments when his self-esteem fell, Kim Dokja would say, "I am Yoo Joonghyuk."」 (ch 197) Dokja started pretending to be Joonghyuk all those years ago because it made him feel stronger and gave him confidence and now the real Joonghyuk has lost complete faith in himself. 😭 At least, he’s lost complete faith in himself until Dokja shows him himself. I absolutely adored the fight and I really hope that this maybe leads to Dokja telling Joonghyuk more about how exactly his "prophecy" works. To help keep up his spirits if nothing else. Maybe not go into how he’s a character in a webnovel, but if Dokja can at least tell him that his future knowledge actually comes from Joonghyuk’s future efforts maybe it’ll help him?
He already knows that at least one version of himself took 1863 attempts so it's not like that information would cause any problems. Dokja can just tell him that he's been seeing that Joonghyuk's rounds this entire time or something. (Which is...not even really a lie. For once.) If nothing else, at least we got to see Dokja and Joonghyuk just laying on the floor exhausted after fighting, actually having a proper conversation. 😊
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mercy-burning · 3 years
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Your Favorite — Part 1
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: When Y/N comes home from college for the summer to meet her mom's new boyfriend, she finds herself in a rather tough spot when she can’t stop thinking about him— And it seems he feels the same... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, masturbation (female and male), minor exhibitionism kink, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative sex, breeding kink (kinda? i think? 😅) Word Count: 7.3k (do you see now why I had to make it a miniseries? alsdjfdk)
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST
DISCLAIMER: In this story, Spencer is dating Y/N’s mom while also having a sexual relationship with the reader herself. Because of that, there are obvious undertones of cheating, alongside some perv-y tendencies when it comes to a partner’s daughter. That being said, Spencer and Y/N’s relationship is consensual. However— If any of what I just forewarned is something that you think will make you uncomfortable while reading, please do not read! If there are any more disclaimers you think I may have missed, don’t hesitate to tell me! There is another post I made HERE with some disclaimers as well if you want to know more about what this story will entail.
NOTE: This intro is already too long, so I’ll just get this out of the way: you can find visual nsfw inspirations for this story over at @mercy-midnight, I’m working on a playlist for this story on my Spotify @/mercyburning, and I don’t know when part 2 and 3 will be out, but you can assume they’ll be here within the next few weeks.
———
JUNE 5th
I hate my mom's new boyfriend.
For the past three months she'd been telling me about this new guy who's "The One" as if "The One" hasn't been like four other guys in the past two years.
And as much as I'd love for my mom to find someone to spend the rest of her life with, I don't believe she'd ever find Mr. Perfect at this rate. Unless she spent more than a few months with them at a time before dragging me home from college for a weekend to meet them, I really don't see it happening.
It just sucks. Because every time she does this, every time I return home, I see the glimmering hope in her eyes and the diminishing spark in his, and I know. I know it won't last, and her heart will be utterly broken within the span of a few months.
I always thought maybe she just had terrible taste in men.
But this time around, when I begrudgingly walk through the door of my childhood home for the summer and see my mother clinging to a man who returns that glimmer in her eyes, I know she's picked a good one.
And I hate him.
His name is Spencer Reid, and he's a retired FBI agent who teaches full time at local colleges now.
He greets me with a bona fide, radiant smile, unlike all the others before, and it sets my insides on fire. And when we sit down for dinner, he's polite (but not in a fake way,) and he seems genuinely curious about my studies and my personality and my relationship with my mother. And when dinner is finished he offers to clean up while Mom and I settle in the living room.
I see the way he looks at me as I leave, a gentle, closed-mouth smile and eyes that linger a little too long on my exposed legs before averting, a glint of shame pooling within them, and it only spreads that fire in my belly.
Maybe I'd been imagining the whole thing, because deep down I wanted him to look at me the way he had... But it's hard to tell when my brain is mostly setting off sirens, blaring "THIS IS WRONG! THIS IS WRONG!" on a loop with blinding lights.
And they're even louder when my mom wraps her arm around me and lays her head atop mine. "Well, what do you think? He's great, huh?"
She's so lovesick, it hurts. It hurts even worse knowing that all I can think about is his big hands wrapped around my throat while he fucks me into the squeaky twin-sized mattress in my bedroom upstairs.
But I can't tell her that, obviously.
And so I decidedly hate him. And I have no choice but lie to her face, embracing her joy and hoping that I'll be able to survive this summer.
"Yeah, Mom. He's really great."
JUNE 19th
It's been two weeks and I can barely stand to be in the same house anymore.
I try to keep myself busy by going outside, to the beach or for long walks in the park; but it's too hot for my liking, and our town is so small that unless I want to spend my time in the grocery store or one of the three bars on Main Street...
I'm stuck either outside where it's hot and uncomfortable, or in the house where it's also hot and uncomfortable.
We have air conditioning, of course, but that's not the problem.
It's Spencer.
I thought by now my little crush on him would have gone, but the longer he hangs around the house, the stronger my feelings for him grow. They're not romantic—nor do I think they ever could be given the fact that if anything serious really were to ever happen between us, my mom would disown me for the rest of my life and murder Spencer with her bare hands—but that doesn't make it any easier on me.
Every day he just exists, right in front of me with that tug-able mop of hair, those warm honey eyes, and his hands that never stop moving. I swear, it's like every time he breathes, his hands are breathing too, challenging me to try and stop them.
But I refuse to touch him. Because I know the moment I do, all will be lost. I won't be able to control myself anymore. And if I don't drop to my knees and try sucking his dick at the dinner table, I'm sure I'll blurt out how I can't handle it anymore and that I need him, and either way I'd be royally fucked.
Right now he's in the dining room, teaching my mom how to do a disappearing card trick. She thinks it's utterly charming that he can do it at all, but mostly that he's patient and willing enough to teach her. And normally I'd agree, but I can barely look at them without wanting to waltz over, grab his wrist, and suck his fingers into my mouth.
It's truly pathetic.
So I try to focus on the television just a few feet away. It's one of those rare instances where I wish our house was bigger, because while I don't mind having less wall-space between rooms, I do mind not being able to watch TV without the kitchen table in my periphery at a time like this. And I think about going up to my bedroom instead for a moment, but I'd have to go past the kitchen, and I just know Mom is going to ask if I'd want Spencer to teach me his magic trick.
And I most definitely do not want that.
In another life, maybe, where he isn't a hot professor and rather an average-looking dude who's way too into fantasy football... But not in this lifetime.
So there I sit, concentrating so hard on Family Feud that my face hurts.
When I hear a flutter of cards and joyous giggling from the other room, it's more than my face that hurts.
It's also my chest, churning and tensing at the hands of the green devil.
Fuck!
I barely even know this man... I haven't really talked to him because I'm afraid that if I try to hold a conversation I'll snap. He's literally just some hot older guy who's dating my mom, and still, my whole body twists and aches with envy when they do anything together, and it fucking sucks. Not only because of the jealousy, but it's also the fact that my mom deserves to be happy.
This time it's different. This time, she's really found someone who returns her every loving gaze, who makes her laugh, who's kind and genuine and not a total douche. She's happier than I've seen her in years.
And the one time she finally finds "The One", every waking second of my life is spent longing for him fuck me.
But it's only been two weeks.
And it's also been nearly two years since I got laid, so maybe that's just my issue...
I figure it can't hurt, so in a spur of the moment decision, I turn the TV off and sprint towards the stairs, right past Mom and Spencer before they can ask questions.
———
I hardly even register the dimness of the light inside the house by the time I glide up the steps, fumbling with the key and trying to make my entrance as quiet as possible. Though, because I'm so used to the dark by this point, the light—no matter how dim—nearly blinds me. The door shuts louder than I'd have liked, and I cringe inwardly, pausing as if that will keep anyone from seeing or hearing me. Not like it'll matter, considering Mom and Spencer are the only ones that are staying here and they'd also been the only ones aware of my plans for the evening.
Well, somewhat, anyway. I told them an old friend invited me out and I probably wouldn't be home until late.
Regardless, that instinct of trying not to get caught coming in late at night is stronger than common sense. Throw a little cheap beer and some shots into the mix, and it almost feels like I'm a teenager again.
The only thing different now is that I have a pool of some stranger's cum soaking my underwear and a man in front of me who stands like an angel. An exhausted, almost scruffy-looking angel more like, but my point still stands.
"You're up late," Spencer observes. It's a simple enough statement— not really judge-y, but I can tell that regardless of his knowledge of my coming home late, he seems shocked to see me coming through the front door right now.
And it's hard to look away from him. Just like it has been for the past two weeks. Still, I try, just barely avoiding his eyes as I cross my arms and fight the urge to clench my legs together. "I'm a whore. What's your excuse?"
Maybe not the best thing to say. But like I said, common sense? Gone.
"O—oh... Umm..." Spencer stumbles through his words, obviously stunned by my response, and the look in his eyes kind of makes me want to curl up in a ball and die from embarrassment. Still, I stand my ground and wait for him to continue.
He settles on a short, "I can't sleep," and then there's nothing else.
"Ah," I express. One syllable. I don't draw it out, I don't exaggerate it... This is the first real conversation I've had alone with him, and I've made it extremely awkward, so I sigh and take a few steps forward, trying to walk past him. "Okay. Goodnight."
I only make it a few steps before he stops me, his hand reaching out to tap my shoulder. "Wait—"
The touch makes me jump, and he pulls it away immediately as I turn to face him. My heart is racing at the speed of light, my panties are soaked through, and if I'm not careful that whole 'no common sense' thing is going to bite me so hard in the ass I won't have one left.
"Can I talk to you?" His voice is barely audible, and the gentle rasp it has to it seems to make me even more wet.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
"Look, I um... Your mom has been totally transparent with me about her relationships, so I know that she's been through a lot of them in a short amount of time... And I know that must be a little difficult for you. Especially now that I'm here... And you've been... distant. And I know that I don't know you that well, so forgive me if I'm assuming anything, but I just want you to know that I don't have any intention of making things difficult for you and your mother."
Too late, pal, I think bitterly, the gentle authority in his tone setting my insides alight. I'm positive that voice could get me to do so many things...
That's the alcohol and sex talking, Y/N, just shake it and move on...
He starts again, but I cut him off with a short wave of my hand. "Look, I... I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I had a really long night, and I'm exhausted. I just wanna shower and go to bed."
I expect more resistance, but Spencer only nods. I still can't bring myself to look him in the eye, though this time I catch his hands clenching at the bottom hem of his shirt. "I understand. Sleep well."
Without another word I turn on my heel and walk a little faster towards the stairs, and I'm about to take my first step when I realize he's followed me. His voice calls out my name softly from a few feet behind, and it stops me in my tracks regardless of my desire to get out of there as fast as I can. And then I turn around and finally look directly at his face.
Big mistake.
His eyes are on my legs again, trailing slowly upwards until he reaches my face. The light over here is dimmer, barely noticeable at all, though I swear I can see red forming on his cheeks.
"I like your dress," he says softly. It's almost meek, like he'd been afraid to say it but took a chance anyway.
It's such a random, small compliment, but with the alcohol and endorphins flowing through my body after the night I'd just had, it nearly makes me quiver.
It also makes me incredibly stupid.
An amused, almost sensual grin forms on my face as I make eye contact with him, and I feel myself throb at the way I can just barely see his throat move. He looks like a deer in headlights, afraid to make one sudden move.
"Turning to flattery to try and win me over, are we?" I say slowly.
I almost think he'll stumble over his words once more, but again he surprises me with a full answer. It's only three words but it's clear, and his voice is deep, and I want to fucking jump his bones right then and there.
"Is it working?"
This has to be the alcohol making me imagine things... I swear I didn't even drink that much tonight, but it has to be an obvious lapse in judgement. The drinking mixed with the sex mixed with the dirty thoughts I've been having about this man lately have to be what's making this feel real. It's all culminating into this one big fantasy (or delusion, more like), and all I need is to shower and sleep it off.
That has to be it.
So because there's no other reasonable explanation that my brain can conjure up, I take a chance and throw Spencer a wink before turning and sprinting up the stairs.
And it's that same seemingly undeniable reasoning for this illusion that doesn't keep my hands from wandering in the shower. Even though those warning sirens in my brain keep blaring, telling me that the common sense is still there for me to utilize, they're drowned out by my thrumming heartbeat and the repetition of Spencer's soothing, authoritative voice, guiding my movements.
Keep rubbing your clit for me, baby... Just like that, nice and slow...
Warm water cascades down the front of my body as I lean back into the wall of the shower, but that's not why I'm so warm. This heat radiates through my insides, spreading like wildfire and bringing out small whimpers and mewls that I know I'll have to contain in fear of waking my mom from her bedroom right next door.
But then the thought of her hearing me next door as I cry out her boyfriend's name only excites me more. I keep it quiet still, but just knowing that someone else is in the house while I'm having these thoughts right now (one of them being the object of said thoughts) is what finally brings me over the edge.
I finish my shower on weak legs, definitely overstimulated now, but also feeling even more tired. I know that the moment I lay down on my bed, I'll be pulled into the sweet, soft surrender of a deep sleep.
Nothing else has ever sounded so pleasant.
———
When I woke up that morning after, I was feeling surprisingly calm. Realistically I knew that my whole 'this has to be an illusion' montage had been less truth and more inebriated babble, and the longer I sat on it the more I thought it'd all turned out for the better.
Turns out, tipsily masturbating in the shower to thoughts of your mom's hot new boyfriend was a surefire way to get it out of your system, right?
Wrong.
It really had been okay at first. I thought about Spencer almost immediately, and yeah, he was still hot as fuck—But there wasn't this overwhelming desire within me to jump his bones when I saw him that morning, his hair messy and his hands clutching a cup of coffee while Mom made breakfast behind him.
But that good feeling I had about all of this? It lasts only about a split second.
Because the moment he looks up and sees me, the mug falls out of his hand and shatters to pieces. His eyes stay glued to me, even as my mother darts over to pick up the pieces of the ceramic that are scattered about the table and the floor. And when she turns back to grab a paper towel, he still stares at me, once again at my legs.
It takes me all of four seconds afterwards to remember that not only did I talk to him briefly last night, but I also flirted with him after he complimented me.
That whole part seemed to have slipped my mind when waking up, and now that his gaze is bringing me back to that moment, that 'this has to be an illusion' montage is starting to become larger than I'd remembered.
It isn't until he finally snaps out of it and starts to help my mom clean up the mess that I snap out of it, too, going back upstairs to clear my head and cool the heat radiating over my skin.
———
There's a knock at my bedroom door about an hour later, and it sounds different than my mom's usually quick two-knock succession. That means it's someone else, and unsurprisingly, my stomach tightens at the thought of seeing him again.
"Yeah?" I call out, turning in my desk chair and meeting Spencer's figure in the doorway. He's changed, a rather nice pair of slacks and a white button-up shirt clinging to his limbs.
"Can I come in?"
"Mhm," I say. I still don't know if I entirely trust myself to say anything more than a few words to him, and as he enters the room and sits on the foot of my bed, I wonder if he can tell.
He tries, really tries, to look me in the eye, but I know that it's hard. I've been in the same spot. And then he takes a deep breath before folding his hands in his lap.
"Y/N, I want to apologize... When we... talked last night... It was kind of weird, and then this morning wasn't really any better..." He can barely get out the words 'talk' and 'last night'... And then he avoids my gaze altogether, staring at the floor and trailing off, trying to put his thoughts together it seems.
And that's when it starts to click into place.
There's one thing that both last night and this morning have in common, and I've noticed it almost every time I've caught him staring at me. At my legs. It's happened almost daily since I've met him. And then, the night I come home clearly having just been fucked, waltzing past him, entertaining his fascination with my legs and then masturbating to thoughts of him in the shower, he finally starts dropping mugs.
He must also really feel something here. Something similar to my own feelings. And really, that should be a red flag, because he's my mom's boyfriend, and it's a goddamned fucking mess...
But fuck, it excites me.
I'm still wearing my pajama shorts, silky and lavender in color, and I use them to my advantage, slowly crossing one leg over the other and just barely gaining Spencer's attention back.
"Yeah, what was that, anyway?" I ask him, amusement dripping off my tongue.
I can tell from his reaction that he wasn't expecting me to ask. A few times he opens his mouth to speak and then closes it , stumbling before panicking. He's been pretty good so far at coming up with answers and explanations, so the fact that this time I finally seemed to have broken him down makes it all the more clear.
He must have heard me in the shower.
Right?
I'm almost completely positive that's what this is about. And there's one way for me to get the confirmation I'm looking for.
"So you heard me, huh?"
I try to keep my voice as plain as I can as not to give away my motives, and with my luck Spencer is so flustered that he probably wouldn't have even noticed it at all. He looks up at me, his eyes desperately trying to find something he can use to make up a lie, but in the end there's no use.
I've caught him. And he knows it.
"Yes," he whispers. He looks exhausted, guilty, and also a little like he wants to cross the barrier and kiss me.
Okay, maybe that part's just in my head. I really can't tell. But I do know that hearing me call his name out in the shower last night is what brought him to this point of severe distress. As much as that excites me, though, it also embarrasses me a little. Maybe if it hadn't happened we could have avoided further destruction.
It must read on my face, because Spencer perks a little. "Oh! Y/N, I'm not... I'm not mad or anything. I really didn't mean to overhear and invade your privacy... Really, I-I'm sorry."
The fact that he's apologizing to me right now, rather than acting all grossed out that I even did it in the first place, tells me he either feels guilty for not being able to help himself from hearing me, or he's just a good guy who loves my mom and doesn't want to ruin it because of a little mishap.
Either way, it's frustrating, because I don't know what to do.
Well, I know what I want to do, but I don't know if I should hint at it.
But then he does something. It's small, and no one would have noticed, but I've been fascinated with his hands since the moment I met him, so my eyes are instantly drawn there.
They're clenched so hard, his knuckles are nearly white.
He's nervous.
To ease his mind a bit, I hold off on poking the bear harder (though it's really tempting to see what will happen if I don't) and nod, trying to make myself look as apologetic and small as possible.
"It's okay... I... I won't make it awkward if you won't?"
His shoulders slump, and his body seems to relax. "Y–yeah. Yeah, deal."
He gets up off the bed and blurts one final apology before heading for the door, but that part of me that wants to poke the bear further makes me stand up and follow him.
"Spencer?" I call out.
He freezes and turns to face me, and I don't think he quite expected me to be as close as I am. I have to tilt my head up to look at him, and the angle gives me an added layer of this innocence I'm trying to achieve.
"I'm sorry, too..."
No the fuck I'm not.
Whether he can sense my lie or not, he doesn't show it. But I think he at least knows that I'm pitching my voice a little higher on purpose, and if that doesn't give it away, the way I'm staring at him sure should.
Still, he only nods and retreats.
All there's left to do is see what happens.
JUNE 25th
For someone who agreed not to make things awkward, Spencer sure can't keep his eyes off of me.
To be fair, I have tried to keep things fairly normal. I only really interacted with him if I had to, I kept my distance, and I saved my skimpier clothing for the strangers I was regularly going out to see almost every weekend.
My lustful feelings for him aren't as strong now that I've been getting some on a semi-regular basis and keeping myself occupied. I've been doing my part.
But I still can't shake him entirely.
Whenever he spends the night (which is surprisingly most nights), the occasional wet dream about him gets me frustrated when I know he's just down the hall and sleeping soundly next to my mom. On those days I try to cut as much interaction with him as I can, though it doesn't keep me from seeing the occasional stare he throws my way.
I wish I could say that I hate it.
But I don't, and it increasingly gets worse. It's only been a week, so there's still time, but honestly, I don't think there's any shaking him.
Today especially is one of those days where it's hard not to give into the incessant need to tease him and coax some stronger reaction out of him.
I talked to Mom earlier this morning about getting some new clothes, and she had this brilliant idea to have Spencer take me. "It would be a good chance for you two to bond a little, don't you think?" she insisted, nudging him in the side and silently pleading with her eyes for him to agree.
I could tell from the look on his face that he really wasn't ready to be alone with me again, but that only excited me.
"Yeah, I think that's a great idea," I piped up, positively beaming.
Mom was so excited for us to 'bond' and also that I was gladly inclined to go through with it that Spencer couldn't have said no to her even if he wanted to.
And I was pretty sure he didn't want to.
Yet here we are, sitting in the car, the air conditioning so strong it's blowing some of my hair into my eyes. I think it had been his way of punishing me for choosing today to wear a short skirt, something I usually refrain from nowadays unless I'm going out, and it makes me smile. I can't help it.
I also can't help the way my fingers play with my skirt, dying to tease him some more. I just want to see, to know for sure that I'm driving him mad.
"No offence, but you seem weird today... Is there something wrong?" I ask him, lifting my skirt just a smidge. The air from the car blows the fabric in waves.
"You're acting this way on purpose."
Well, I hadn't been expecting that answer... All this time he'd hardly been confrontative, and now he's full-on calling me out. It's plain to see that he's finally snapped, and I would have felt sorry about it if I didn't find it extremely sexy.
"What do you mean?"
"Y/N..."
My name on his lips is a warning. He's clearly annoyed, exasperated, and I'm loving every second. "Don't act oblivious. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. I don't want to make you hate me or anything, but you have to know where I'm coming from. I was willing to let the shower thing slide... And you said you were too, for that matter, so I don't know what's changed, but it has to stop now. Understood?"
Oh, all I want is to argue with him. I want to point out that none of this is really my fault because he's the one who hasn't been able to stop staring at me all summer so far. I want to tell him that if he wants this to stop he has to make it stop.
But that isn't going to give me any of the answers I'm looking for or further proof of my theory that he wants me just as badly as I want him. And I am not going to fuck this whole situation up by making a poorly-timed move on him.
I have to know for sure.
So, I fold my hands neatly in my lap, sigh, and look dead ahead. "Right... We said no awkwardness. I'm sorry."
Spencer seems to accept my apology and continues down the road.
When we make it to the mall I think he's calmed down. At least, he seems a little more comfortable around me, and honestly I'm okay with it. As much as his spiel in the car turned me on, it also exhausted me to the point of silence.
Even as we walk around each store in the mall, I just lead and he follows, not saying a word when I pick out a top or a pair of pants or whatever else I need. And when it comes time to pay, he takes the basket from me and pays for it with no question.
Near five bags of clothes later, I figure I could get used to this new dynamic.
But then we pass a lingerie store, and I remember that the main thing I'd needed was new underwear. I start to turn into the store, but stop suddenly, pausing awkwardly and deciding to go straight ahead instead.
"You don't want to go in?" Spencer asks.
I shake my head. "No, it's fine. I can just pick some up later, it's not a big deal."
He sighs then, nodding his head towards the sign. "If you need to go in, you can... I'll just wait out here if you're uncomfortable."
I really want to call him out, ask him if he's the one who should be worried about being uncomfortable. But so far this afternoon has been pretty decent, and I really don't want to make things any weirder than they have to be.
Besides... If my theory is right...
"Sure. Thanks. Uh, how am I gonna pay, though?"
"O—Oh... I'll uh... I'll just watch the counter and come in when you need me."
"Orrrr, you could just give it to me?"
This time I get a laugh out of him. "Not a chance. Go in, I'll wait."
I smile at him and hand him the bags to hold onto while I leave, and it fills me with absolute amusement that he'd just given me one more ounce of proof that I'm right.
He's gonna have to come inside and pay for what I bought. He could have just given me the card, and maybe he truly doesn't trust me with it (which I don't know why he wouldn't honestly), but he chose to come inside all the same.
I browse happily then, going through the displays and picking out things I need, but also things I know Spencer will like.
Specifically, I stumble on a pair of lavender panties, embroidered with flowery trim up top. The pattern from the outside is lace, but there's a thin layer of cotton underneath designed to be more comfortable to wear.
I've noticed that he can never seem to look away when I'm wearing anything, really, but it's more intense when I wear one of two things. Florals, and any type of purple. And these fit both of those bills perfectly.
Now there's just one more bill to take care of.
I stride over to the counter and turn around, finding that Spencer's caught my eye immediately. Either he truly had been paying attention to the counter the whole time, or he'd been watching through the glass, following me with his gaze to the best of his abilities. Either way, he blinks a few times and looks like he's gathering the courage to go in before actually taking any steps.
I laugh to myself, eager to gauge his reaction to this next step.
Surprisingly, he holds up well. The air between me, him, and the cashier is obviously awkward, but he doesn't say anything and barely looks at what she rings up. (I say barely because he tries extremely hard not to look at the purple pair I picked out, inadvertently adding another checkmark to my list of proof.) She tells him the total, he hands her the card, and within a minute, everything is in our possession and we're leaving the mall entirely.
I don't think there are any more steps to my plan today once we get in the car and I tell him thank you. (To which he responds a short and simple, Sure thing, and turns the radio on.)
But then there's a note taped to the front door, and it instantly gives me another one.
My Sweethearts,
I got called in on a work emergency and won't be back until 7. I would have called but I figured you were having a nice time and didn't want to interrupt! I'll bring home dinner, and then maybe you can tell me about how your day went. Can't wait to hear it!
XOXO,
Eve/Mom
I check my phone, seeing that it's almost 3.
Perfect.
But I don't want to give myself away too quickly, so I thank Spencer again for taking me out and tell him that I'm going upstairs to make sure everything fits right. He nods and lets me go, though not without lingering eyes. I can feel it.
The smile never leaves my face as I try all my clothes on. Once each article has been fitted, I throw it in a laundry basket and move to the next, until I get to the last piece.
The lavender panties.
As expected, they fit perfectly, and as I look at myself in the mirror I picture what Spencer would look like when he sees me wearing them.
That's right. When.
I throw back on my earlier outfit and grab the basket, acting as bored and normal as possible to find him sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book.
"Hey," I greet him, setting the basket in front of me once I reach the bottom of the stairs. "Everything fits good, I just need them washed now. Could you run these down to the laundry room for me? I think I'm gonna make something to snack on before Mom brings dinner."
It doesn't surprise me to see him look at my legs before my face, even if it is brief. I want to smile, but I hold back, watching him nod with a tight smile of his own.
"Sure."
He disappears and then I wait.
One...
Two...
Three.
I sneak as quietly as I can to the laundry room once I hear the washer door open. I hadn't specifically asked him to put them in the washer for me on purpose, and it looks like now he's doing exactly what I thought he might.
My head peeks around the corner, barely in his range of sight as I watch him empty the basket. He takes one item of clothing at a time and throws it in the washer, and halfway through the basket he stops, just to place a pair of my new underwear on the dryer beside him.
My heart races faster the more I wait for him to get to the end of the basket. Once he does, he pauses again, and I think I know exactly what he's looking for.
Still, he sets the basket aside and picks up the stray pair of underwear, a simple black cotton pair that I'd been getting for years, and drapes it over his hands. My thighs instantly clench, and I try so hard to remain where I am so I can see where he takes this.
He takes it straight to hell, apparently, tentatively pulling his dick out of his pants and gripping it firmly. I can barely see since his back is partially turned, but I see enough, and god he's so fucking pretty. My underwear dangle from his left hand while the other works slowly over his erection, a soft sigh falling from his lips.
I fight to let one of my own slip as my hand sinks down the front of my body, past the lavender cotton and lace that I know he just wishes he had right now.
And then, a few seconds later he's already coming, using my brand new underwear to catch each rope of it, and the sight nearly has me on my knees.
And because I want to catch him in the act, I quickly draw my hand away from myself and step into the room, barely giving him time to recover.
"You come fast."
Spencer looks utterly devastated when he turns to see me standing in the entryway to the laundry room, arms crossed and an amused smirk adorning my face.
"Y/N... I—I... I'm so sorry, I didn't... I..."
"Don't worry about it," I say, taking a step towards him and shrugging. "You heard me, and now I heard you... We're even. Besides, I... figured you might be looking for these."
He's still stunned, but he looks down all the same, watching my hands slip under my skirt and glide the lavender panties down my legs. I step out of them and hold the garment up on one finger, a soft smile still on my face.
"I picked 'em out just for you, you know," I tell him, tossing them past his face and into the washer. "I've noticed that you like purple."
This time he's quick to respond. "Y/N, we... We can't... This isn't right."
"Says the man holding my underwear soaked in his cum..."
He looks panicked again, extremely guilty, but if this isn't going to end in a total disaster, then I have to reassure him that I'm okay.
"Spencer, I'm not mad..." I take another step forward, and it feels much like trying to approach a wounded animal. I can see in his eyes and in his posture that this conflict is killing him, so I decide to show some rapport. "And I know... I know this is messy... I love my mom... And I'm sure you care about her a lot... But are we really going to ignore this? We tried that, remember? And now look where we are."
"I..." He swallows, shaking his head and trying to avoid my eyes. "I can't stop thinking about you... I can't..."
My hand finds his arm, and the light touch has him sighing out, an incredulous, breathy laugh escaping him. "Y/N, please... Don't."
"Don't what?" I ask softly, praying he won't turn me away. If he does, we're just back to square one, only the square is jagged, sharper than ever before, and in serious danger of injuring someone.
When he meets my eyes, I see nothing but a desire for something he knows he can't have. "Don't want me."
Now it's my turn to laugh. My knees start to wobble as I go down, keeping my eyes locked onto his, and I swear I see them dilate fully. I scoot in closer, sliding my hand up his leg and finding the words in my heart to finally say out loud.
"It's too late for that..."
My face moves closer, and the hand of his that doesn't currently hold my underwear flies down to gently tug at my hair, keeping me in place.
"If you do this... God, Y/N, I won't be able to stop myself..."
A smirk dances over my lips as I lean in, breath fanning gently over his exposed skin. "Don't."
He swallows. "Don't what?"
"Don't stop yourself."
I barely get the words out before his hand is completely pulling me towards him, and the second my lips press against the silky skin of his hard cock, he loses it completely.
His fingers thread through my hair as I kiss and lick my way softly up to the tip. Once I'm there, I swirl my tongue out and taste the small beads of cum that had remained after he came, a low, satiated hum radiating through my body and making him shiver under my touch.
And then I wrap my lips fully around the head of his dick, and there's no stopping the most beautiful sound I've ever heard come out of his mouth. It's a broken, desperate whisper of my name. The crack in his voice when he says it spurs me forward, and I take him deeper into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat.
That's when he tosses my underwear in the washer and uses both of his hands to grab my head, roughly guiding me along his cock and fully taking control of my actions.
The fire in my belly doesn't ease up, not even once he's decided that he can't take it anymore and pulls me off of him harshly.
And that's only because now he's fully turned over, finally given into these desires that have been plaguing him presumably from the moment we met.
"I want you stripped and in your bed, on your hands and knees within the next five minutes."
I get up off the floor and walk up to him until our bodies are flush, my arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.
"What are you gonna do to me, Spencer?"
He searches my eyes, and his own grow dark with the purest form of sin I'd ever seen. And when his hands come up over the back of my legs, and under my skirt to grab my ass and pull me even closer to him, I can't help the little mewl that slips past my lips.
He smiles, and if it hadn't been for the grip he held on me, I would have fallen to my knees. "Little girl, when I'm through with you, you'll have to come up with some excuse to your mom about why you can't walk straight... Is that what you want?"
The mention of my mom should send me running in the opposite direction, but his threat only prolongs that fire in my veins and makes me want him even more.
I tilt my head up and press a gentle kiss to his lips.
"Do your worst..."
———
Turns out he was very true to his word.
Sitting at the kitchen table is somewhat of a relief, but I try not to walk around as much when Mom gets home. She'd asked me almost immediately if I was okay, and I told her I was just hungry and needed to eat something.
She seemed to have bought it, rushing to the kitchen to unpack the fast food she'd ordered for us. Over her shoulder, Spencer gave me a sly smile, and it took everything I had within myself not to crumble.
Through bites of food, I only half-listen to Mom telling us about the stuff she had to do at work because most of the words I'm hearing are in my head— A loop of endless dirty talk that plants deep into the soil of my stomach and spreads out through my whole body. It infects me, like the most beautiful poison, and I never want it to stop.
"Tell me, sweetheart, you ever let a man come inside you before?"
His weight on top of me coupled together with the heft of his voice has me whining out in pleasure, each snap forward of his hips over my ass as he pounds into me from behind the most delectable burn I've ever felt.
"Uh huh," I answer happily, twisting my head to feel his cheek against my own. "That night you heard me in the shower... I walked through the door with a stranger's cum soaking my panties... And you know what?"
He grumbles, his hips hitting into me harder as he waits for me to continue.
"I wished it was yours..."
My legs clench together under the table and I take a large gulp of water.
I feel something graze over my bare shin, and I already know it's Spencer's foot, a silent reassurance of his presence and that no matter what, he'll always be here.
"Here's what's going to happen..."
He has me on my back now, my legs hoisted over his shoulders and bent back so I'm nearly folded in half. His hips are flush against mine and I can feel his cock throbbing as he comes into the condom.
"You're gonna make an appointment to make sure you're clean... You're gonna make sure you're on good birth control... And then the next time I fuck this pretty little pussy, you're gonna really know what it feels like to have a man come inside you."
Right... Like I really need a reminder of his presence.
I can practically feel it still inside me, taking up every inch of space my body could provide. And no matter how long I go without seeing him, I have no doubt that it'll always remain.
"But that's enough about me, I'm sorry." Mom's voice shifts and breaks me out of my fantasy. "So, how did your day of bonding go? You have fun?"
Spencer and I share a look, a smile spreading over his lips that makes me smile in turn.
"Yeah, Mom," I say. "It was great."
He nods in kind. "Yeah... We'll definitely have to do it again."
His foot grazing over my leg under the table cements the unwavering smile on my face, as does the way my whole body burns at the memory of him fucking me upstairs only hours before.
I don't even flinch or get sick to my stomach when Mom reaches over and gives Spencer a kiss.
———
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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years
Text
In Bloom: Alpha!Geto x Fem!Omega!Reader
synopsis: take a look at this ask
wc: 2.9k
tw: NSFW
masterlist
Omega.
The lowest of the low.
You look at your reflection and ask the universe why you aren’t at least a beta. But today you and the other omegas would be passed off to various available and willing leaders of the pack, chosen only by scent.
“It’s not so bad,” your best friend, Geto Suguru, chimes in at breakfast, assuaging your fears. He’s an Alpha, but you know he wouldn’t choose you. You two were too close to consider being part of a household together; you had been best friends since you were young, and that was the extent of it - well, that’s what you knew was true. It’s not what you wanted to be true. “Plus, sometimes you’re not picked for mating, and you meet your mate later. It’s just an easier way to distribute enough people to avoid overwhelming each house.”
“The sniffing test sounds worse than it actually is,” your sister, Marie, chuckles, nudging her beta husband, Yuta. “You’ll see what I mean later.”
And later came sooner than you thought, you realize, standing in a room with the four other omegas in the pack who haven’t been claimed yet and are of age. Nostrils are flaring, eyes are dancing around, and your head is clouded with the smells of the other betas and alphas in the room in front of you.
“No one here is pleasing to me,” Nanami crosses his hands over his chest, looking at the head of the pack with disdain. Gojo shrugs, looking over the four of you with passing interest.
“Anyone?” Toji Fushiguro steps forward, eyeing you all carefully before picking Mei Mei, a small little thing that would definitely be dominated by him inside and outside the bedroom.
“I’ll add Mei Mei to my group.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, thankful that you wouldn’t be the one Toji picked. It was every girl’s worst fear - well, until he satisfied you in bed, of course. Rumors of his prowess in bed were enough to make any omega tense up, and he was famous for not having a single complaint come from his household about polyamory. In fact, both of his mates - Gunnar and Elizabeth - were some of the kindest and heartwarming people you had ever met, despite being mated the weapons handler for the pack.
“I’ll take Haibara,” Yuki, another Alpha, announces. You look over at the man - who had been waiting patiently for this moment - as he joined the only person he loved in the camp. Yuki’s choice had not been unexpected at all. But now it’s down to you and Urahime, and you eye her with curiosity. Would Geto choose her? Or would Gojo take her? Urahime was an introvert, and not really suited for being the head of the pack, so obviously--
“Urahime,” Gojo holds his hand out, and she shuffles toward him, her hair hiding the blush creeping up her cheeks. You look over to Geto, who smiles and crosses his arms over his broad chest before nodding at you.
But wait--
“Come on, y/n.”
Wait, but wasn’t he-- didn’t he say--
Aren’t we just--
You’re still dumbfounded as he walks you to his - now your - home, which isn’t too far from yours. Geto didn’t have a mate, nor did he have anyone else in the house. That was why he spent so much time with you and your sister in your home.
“Just see this as the main house,” Geto announces as you climb the stairs behind him. “We can bounce between your old one and here if you’d like.”
“Wait,” you finally murmur, finding your voice. “Why did you choose me? Was it because I was last?” Geto turns around, raising a brow as his hand lingers on the doorknob to his bedroom.
“I would’ve picked you first if we hadn’t cast lots to see what order we would go in. I lost this time.” He swings open the door, and you see the room has completely changed from what it used to be. What used to be a bachelor’s pad with flannel sheets, LED lights, gaming consoles, and a massive TV on the wall has become a light-filled room with grey curtains, cotton sheets, a bookshelf, and two comfortable chairs by the unused fireplace instead of swivel chairs and a banner that covered up the brick enclosure.
“You redid the room…” you breathe as you walk past him, and he smiles a toothy grin, watching you take in the transformed space. “All of this for me?” You touch the comforter, and eye the row of candles beside a wooden desk - all things that weren’t there before.
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Am I here just to take care of the home? I understand if that’s the case. I’d be happy to--”
“Let’s talk about it over lunch,” he murmurs, and you jog to the kitchen downstairs. Your sister is already there, apparently coming in through the side door that’s closer to your former residence. She’s just finishing up making pulled pork sandwiches, and you help her set them on the dining room table.
“Not so bad, huh?” she laughs at you, and you shrug.
“I mean, staying with Suguru and helping out until he meets his mate is enough for me,” you smile, placing a bag of chips onto the table. Your sister raises her brow but says nothing else while you work. When you finish setting the table, you all take your places and begin to eat, the silence deafening. You glance at Geto, hoping he will explain your duties while you stay here, but he just looks at Yuta, who glares back at him.
“Just spit it out, Suguru,” your sister gripes, and Geto sighs, placing his sandwich back on his plate.
“So, y/n. I know today you joined my household, and I want to tell you why.”
“Sure,” you shift in your seat, placing a chip in your mouth before Suguru announces,
“I want to be mated to you.” Saliva and chip pieces create a blockage in your throat, and you cough, eyes falling to your lap as your sister pats your back roughly.
“Me?” you finally croak, still choking a little. “Are you sure? We’re friends, Geto, not--”
“I would hope that would come with time. But I wanted to know if you would stay with me. You can say no and move back into the house with your sister; I won’t be hurt.”
“It’s not like you would be doing anything you’re uncomfortable with,” your sister adds. “All of this will be at your pace.”
You scoot your chair back, and whisper, “I need some time to think.”
_____________________________________________________________
Your time to think about everything lasted more than one night. It lasted almost a whole two weeks, you realize when you look up from your wooden desk. Geto had given you the room to yourself, choosing to huddle on the couch downstairs or retreat to his study when necessary.
You hadn’t really touched on the prospect of mating with him the entire time, not wanting to betray your feelings for him as a big brother, but the part of you that saw him as a handsome and caring man (and potential mate) wouldn’t go away. Actually, it just grew as you cohabitated with him and learned more about him.
But today would be especially difficult, you remember, rubbing your thighs together. You look over at the collections of pillows and one stolen hoodie from Suguru’s closet. You try your best to avoid being near him because you know what kind of overdrive your heat would throw him into. So you stayed in your room for most of the time, using the master bathroom, and only coming out to eat when you knew he left to run an errand. Your stomach growls angrily, and you clutch at it, hoping Suguru would go out for lunch and leave you so you could grab food and just be left alone to decide what you want to do if anything. You pick up your phone and frantically text your sister:
SOS, need food
Within a moment, your phone buzzes and Marie replies:
Can’t you ask Suguru?
You furiously type:
No! Last day of pre-heat.
Seconds later, a knock at your door startles you so bad that you almost leap out of your seat, and you call out, “Yes?” The door opens to your dismay, and Suguru peeks his head in, his wet hair and grey shirt appearing first. Should’ve locked the door.
“Marie told me to check on you, are you…” He examines the nest of blankets, pillows, and the stolen hoodie, and the confusion in his eyes vanishes. “Oh.” You try not to grimace, but he closes the door behind him, retreating down the stairs then reappearing with a carton of juice and a bag of trail mix.
“I keep these around, just in case,” he explains, then walks out of the room. “Lock your door,” he warns, then shuts it behind him with finality.
_____________________________________________________________
The knob jiggles in the middle of the night.
That’s when you know your heat has started.
“You okay in there, y/n?” Suguru murmurs, lips pressed to the crack of the door. You shift the large blanket off of you and wipe the sweat from your face.
“I’m fine,” you croak and rub your face slowly. “Just tired.”
“L-let me know if you need anything.” You hear him slump against the door and slide down, effectively blocking any and all exits. “Do you want to go home to your sister?” he calls out, and you groan.
“No.” You didn't want to inconvenience your sister and Yuta in this way, and she’d already snitched on you once in hopes that your heat would push you and Suguru together.
“Sure you don’t need anything?”
“N-no.” You whisper, and he falls silent, no doubt attempting to figure out how he can get on the other side of the door. No, you still had to decide. If you held out for long enough, you’d find out that his feelings were just figments of your imagination, and Geto couldn’t be interested in an Omega like you. He needed a Beta, a beautiful one that could match him in every way. You’re not that woman, and you could never be.
“Y/n…” You perk up at the way he whines your name, and inch closer to the door. “Let me in. Please.”
You hold a hand to the smooth wood, closing your eyes and letting it fall to your lap.
“You need a strong mate,” you answer, shaking your head. “I’m not the right one for you.” You stare at the doorknob with longing. You could open the door and let him in, but what would happen when he moved on to someone better? You’d be crushed, settling into the reality that you’re just a replaceable Omega.
“I don’t want anyone but you. No beta or other omega could be perfect for me. Not like you are, y/n.” When you don’t answer, Suguru murmurs, “Remember when we were in the park when you got your first heat?” You nod, even though he can’t see you. “I swore you knocked me flat on my ass right then and there. I knew I didn’t want anyone else from then on, but I had to fight Gojo once you ran off with your sister to go home.” He chuckles, as if this happened yesterday and not when you were seventeen, which was five years ago.
Your hand is reaching for the doorknob before you can stop it, and you unlock the door, anticipating Suguru to burst in and ravage you. But when he opens the door, he walks in slowly, taking stock of you on the floor and in an old t-shirt of his. He’s still in a grey shirt and joggers from before, his hair pulled back like always.
When he crouches down to face you, you’re shaking - whether it’s from fear or from excitement, you can’t tell. Either way, when Suguru places his hand on your cheek, you feel all of your nerves drift away. He taps a kiss to your nose, then tilts your head up to kiss you on the lips, holding you close by the neck. Once he’s done kissing your mouth, he trails below your chin, lips making a path to your collarbone.
“Get this off me,” you moan, and he flips his shirt off of you, tossing it into your nest before lifting you and taking you to the bed. He lays on top of you, spreading your legs wide while you jerk your hips up to meet his palm.
“I know you want to go fast,” he breathes, pressing another kiss to your mouth. “But let’s go slow. Take our time, hmm?” You whine, a fire building in the pit of your stomach while he smooths his fingers and lips over your skin. “I’ve waited for this for years.”
“Please take me now,” you plead, and Suguru shakes his head, diving past your underwear and sliding a finger into you easily.
“Patience, sweetheart.”
You don’t know how you got so turned on, but damn Suguru is going incredibly slow. You grunt in displeasure and your hands feverishly push down his joggers, letting his hard length spring free without hesitation. Suguru is taken aback at your show of aggression, but he follows it with his own, taking his teeth and raking them up your leg.
“Can’t hold back, huh,” he wonders, finally shucking his pants off. The dark-eyed Alpha removes your underwear and spreads your legs, pumping his cock a few times before nestling into your heat. You both give a loud groan of pleasure, which rocks you to your core as he sinks into you before pulling out, then thrusting back inside of you. You keen as he angles his hips so that your hips are meeting him easily without a single ounce of resistance.
“Please, Su,” you whisper, holding him close as he fucks you senseless. A haze settles in over you and you’re lost, wandering around aimlessly in your mind as he continues to pump into you. There’s no pain, no fear, no nothing. Just you and Suguru mating in your bed with abandon.
A stretching feeling fills you towards your entrance, and you pant, feeling even more full than before.
“S-Suguru…” you hiccup, but he hushes you, still pushing into you as his hand ghosts over your cheek.
“It’s okay… everything’s okay…” His fingers are shaking, but you don’t know why. Even so, something in you shifts, and you feel the burning fire roaring to life in your stomach. You grip him a little harder and cry out his name, which makes him lean forward, mouth open. At first, you think he’s going to kiss your neck, but when you feel his teeth graze a sensitive spot and then press down, you know what’s happening immediately. His scent explodes tenfold and you do the same, biting into his neck with equal pressure and feeling a trickle of blood run from the spot after a while.
The feelings that flood in are incredibly overwhelming, and you suddenly lose all sense of time, space, and knowledge. A loud exhalation is ripped from your throat, and Suguru echoes your sound a few moments later, spilling his seed deep inside of you.
A few minutes pass, and he’s recovered considerably, the mark on his neck still fresh with blood but not as red. His knot has only gone down a fraction, but you don’t mind. Your thoughts are like water and mist, just flowing past you easily, nothing sticking for too long.
“Talk to me,” Suguru whispers, but you can’t reply, your mind landing on one word, but then ghosting it away as soon as you go to speak it. All you can do is rest in his arms, nuzzling him close and closing your eyes.
BONUS:
As you rest with your back against Suguru’s chest, he’s making that sound while rubbing your swollen stomach. The sound is like a croon - bordering on a purr - and whenever he does it, it soothes you to the point of sleepiness. Your pup is tossing and turning despite Suguru’s soothing motions, and you wonder what your pup would be for a second before Yuki and Haibara appear in the backyard.
The sounds of greetings from the other pack members echo around the large space, and you watch them hand over a plate of uncooked steaks to Yuta, who is busy flipping the meat on the grill. Yuki approaches you, hands out to touch your bump as Haibara chats with Gojo and a two-year-old Yuji.
“I say it’s an Alpha by how much it keeps you up at night,” Yuki speculates, and you laugh, praying to God you wouldn't have a mini-Suguru running around the house any time soon. Gojo would very easily snatch him (or her) up and train them how to be “the strongest”, which wouldn’t bode well for your doors or kitchen cabinets.
“I’ve been telling her it’s an Alpha,” Geto chimes in, and you sigh, rolling your eyes.
“Are you going to also tell Yuki here what you said about the Fushiguro’s son?”
“What?” he asks innocently. “I only said Megumi would make a great Omega.”
“And Toji told you to eat shit.” Yuki leans back and cackles, holding her stomach.
“Sounds just like Toji.” You let the two alphas continue their conversation, tuning them out and watching Megumi run across the grass with Yuji and Nobara.
“You know, there’s only one thing worse than a curse user,” You hear Gojo mutter to Toji, and the green-eyed man nods.
“Yeah, a child.”
945 notes · View notes
ptergwen · 3 years
Text
web of lies
take a leap. if you start to fall, the net will appear to catch you.
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photographer!peter x journalist!reader || masterlist
w/c: 7.1k
warnings: swearing, one drinking mention, descriptions of anxiety, and angst if ya squint
summary: peter can’t stop holding your hands, betty and ned are the modern day bonnie and clyde, ned is a terrible guy in the chair, the osborn’s are up to something, and mj hates you all
a/n: y’all i’m super excited about this series like i haven’t had an idea i’ve really loved in months? so it’s good to be back !!! there are tons of things i have planned and i can’t wait to share them with all of you hehe i really hope you enjoy part one <3 happy reading
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to be honest, which is what you do best, you’ve had a thing for peter parker your whole time at the daily bugle. you actually almost told him once.
a couple months ago, peter walked you home on a night you worked overtime. he’d came in last minute to leave some pictures on your boss’s desk. no one else but you was there, hunched at your computer in the dim office lighting. peter was pleasantly surprised to see you, yet concerned for your well-being. you had to put your finishing touches on a story.
he didn’t feel comfortable letting you travel alone at that hour. so, he went with you when you were ready. his company was more than welcomed. you told peter about your article while you two sat on the subway. he’d listened intently, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm around you. he made sure you got to your apartment building alright as well.
“hey, peter?” you’d asked, halfway up the steps. he was waiting until you were inside and safe to leave. “hm? you good?” he’d smiled sort of expectantly. “yeah. i... i wanted to say...”
your words got caught in your throat when he gave you the softest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. you couldn’t do it. for some reason, you were too scared to confess how you felt. “thanks again for walking me home,” you’d settled on. he’d seemed disappointed that was what you wanted to tell him. nevertheless, he said not to worry about it before taking off.
that one moment perfectly captures it all; how yours and peter’s narrative plays itself out.
“we’ve got an update on hydra v. the people!”
“those freaky giraffes escaped the zoo... again.”
“shoot one more spitball and it’ll be your last.”
“does anyone have an aspirin?”
welcome to the daily bugle, where the chaos never ends and the calm never starts. you’ll find new york’s finest writers, publishers, and creatives of all kind right here. that would include you. you’re one of the top journalists in the whole building, according to mr. norman osborn. he’s the brilliant and slightly insane man who runs this place.
although it’s rare for someone in your field, you were hired straight out of college. norman read a few pieces you’d written and loved them so much that he offered you a job. full time, full benefits, no questions asked. there was something special about the way you wove your words together. your writing had its own voice. a strong voice, one the paper was severely lacking.
you’ve been with the bugle for just over a year now. it’s not the quiet, nine to five gig you were initially expecting it to be. you’re each very unique individuals in your office, and there’s never a dull moment because of it. your coworkers can be found hosting debates on the riskiest topics or tackling each other for blueberry muffins, and that’s just a regular tuesday. the place is stranger than strange. but, it’s become home.
thanks to mr. osborn being so accommodating, you actually settled in rather quickly. another big help has been the friends you’ve made. your first was michelle jones, who prefers to be called mj. she’s a fellow journalist with a wickedly dark humor that trickles into her writing. if you had to describe her in one word, it would be blunt. mj is as real as it gets, and also eternally loyal. she keeps her circle small, so you’re honored you get to be in it.
mj sits right next to you, which means you’re always talking through your days. that’s due in part to the way your office is set up. there aren’t any cubicles, tables and swirly chairs taking up their space instead. norman heard it was more progressive, probably from his son harry.
harry is about your age, only a couple of years older. he hangs around quite a lot, but doesn’t do much with his time besides that. according to norman, he’s still seeking out his passion. he’s banking on him finding a suitable career at the bugle. he’d like to pass this all on to harry some day, hopefully sooner than later. either way, you don’t mind having harry here. he’s super funny and friendly with everyone.
there’s also ned leeds, who’s an editor and reviews most of your pieces. he’s sweeter than candy, even when he’s ripping your grammar to shreds. on the rare occasions you’re not discussing breaking news, you two talk about movies. ned is a film buff and gives you the best recommendations. you’re convinced he was a critic in his past life.
last but so from least is peter parker. he only works for the bugle part time, since he’s still in school. you both graduated from your respective colleges the same year. peter wants to get his masters degree, though. he’s a photographer who’s aspiring to be a cinematographer. him and ned have their passion for the industry in common, and that’s what makes them such great friends.
you learned this and more from the times you and peter have partnered up on stories. he’s one of your best friends not only at the bugle, but in your entire life. the many long nights you’ve spent collaborating have brought you close to each other. they consist of drinking and deep talks, along with some actual work. he takes the pictures, you do the writing. you’ve been told you make a lovely pair.
peter says it himself, too. you’d like to believe he means it as more than coworkers. he’s so caring, and smart, and pure, and peter. yeah, you like him an awful lot. you can hardly stand the feeling of it sometimes.
the fact that you you haven’t come clean already is ridiculous.
“goddamn. not again,” you mutter out. “em, you better come look at this. it’s bad.” mj wheels over to you in her chair with a puzzled look. her eyes follow yours, landing on your computer. “leeds just sent this? to everyone?” she questions, your reply a short hum. you’re both staring daggers at the email your screen displays.
ned is responsible for assigning each journalist their own topics to cover. he’s been lacking a bit recently, having you write up think pieces on fluffy things. in other words, stuff that no one cares about. he asked you to compare oat milk and almond milk just last week. you’d hoped this week would be better, but here you are.
“this is ass. who does he think we are, buzzfeed?” mj scoffs at her own words. the daily bugle prides itself on being a reliable news source, on paper and tv. you’re starting to stoop down to the low level of your competitors. “he assigned me some tiktok dance trend. i’m not writing a single word about that app.” she sets her elbows down on the table, head in her hands.
“aw, why not? grandma mj isn’t down with the kids?” you tease and click out of the upsetting email. “i don’t write for kids,” mj deadpans. she pushes her glasses up on her nose. “what’d you get?” “the evolution of memes,” you gloomily reply. you’re surprised norman has been approving these topics. then again, ned is the head editor. he can do whatever he wants regardless of approval.
mj glares over at the kitchen, where betty brant currently resides. she’s making two hot chocolates instead of her usual one. “i blame her,” mj mumbles to you. your eyebrows furrow. “dude, what? betty is an angel. she doesn’t even work in editing.” betty is the bugle’s highest rated anchorwoman. her and her news team are on people’s televisions every night.
“no, but she has been spending a generous amount of time with leeds,” mj grumbles. she’s admittedly very nosy. the upside is that she tells you any juicy office drama there is. “my theory is betty’s making him give us crap stories so she can report the good ones.” she glances over at you to see what you think. “no way. that can’t be allowed... or legal,” you laugh back.
as if on cue, ned appears next to betty in the kitchen. he takes the extra hot coco that’s piled high with whipped cream. betty tucks a sheet of paper into his suit pocket and kisses his cheek, then he’s gone. you can only gasp as you watch this unfold. what has she done to poor, clueless ned?
“not such an angel anymore, huh?” mj smirks in satisfaction. “suddenly, she has red horns and a pitchfork,” you bitterly agree with your tongue in your cheek. betty waves to you two on her way back to broadcasting. mj gives her a fake nice finger wave, you ignoring her. “we can’t sit back and let this happen, em. we have to do something,” you decide. “let’s tell norman.”
uninterested, mj takes off her glasses and starts to clean them. “like he’ll believe us. yeah, golden girl betty brant is sabotaging the writer’s room,” she rewords her previous statement to put its stupidity in perspective. you throw your hands up. “she is, though! we literally watched it happen!” mj puts her freshly wiped glasses back on and sighs.
“i doubt norman would care, y/n. every newspaper to ever exist is corrupt somehow.” your pessimistic old pal has a point. however, you’re not so willing to accept it. “why can’t we be the first one that isn’t?” you offer a small smile. mj snickers, wheeling back to her own computer. “those are words of the innocent.” she’s already tapping her fingers across the keyboard.
“i thought you weren’t doing the tiktok piece,” you say under your breath. you’re slightly pissed mj turned you down, since she’s the reason you know about betty’s meddling. “i’m not,” mj answers sharply. “i’m gonna email quentin and ask if we can change our topics. happy?” quentin beck is another editor in the building. he’s not bad, but he is intimidating. no one typically goes to him as their first option.
“i’m thrilled,” you confirm and grin at mj to emphasize it. “thanks for stepping up. you’re forgiven.” “i didn’t realize i had to be sorry,” mj notes, this time in a playful manor. she shakes her head as she begins writing. “you and your morals.”
what you value most in your career is honesty, under any circumstances. of course, the other daily bugle writers are the same. norman strictly prohibits clickbait and crazy headlines because that isn’t real news. you leave that to companies like buzzfeed. you’re honest in the sense that you say whatever has to be said, what everyone else is too afraid to. you’ll speak your truth no matter who tries to stop you.
it didn’t used to be that way. there’s some childhood trauma that remains deep in the back of your mind. you’ve left that behind you now, having over a decade to cope with it. hey, they say the past is in the past. what’s important is your takeaway, that you would never let yourself or anyone else be silenced from there on out. never again.
quentin ends up giving you the okay to write different stories. he lets you and mj choose choose your own because he’s got “better things to do” and you’re “big girls.” what a peach he is. mj goes with how capitalism is continuing to provoke global warming. she has something to say about every major world issue, and you admire the hell out of her for it.
you’re a bit stuck when it’s time to write your article. it’s terribly ironic because you pushed for this. you aren’t too worried, though. the city is crawling with material, so you’ll find what you’re looking for eventually. lucky for you, some much needed inspiration comes skipping out of the elevator.
“morning, peter,” you hear liz greet him at the front desk. she’s your floor’s receptionist. her wisdom and patience keep this place going. “hi, liz. how’s it going?” he asks. “things have been quiet... mostly. can i do anything for you?” liz peers up at him. peter sports a shy smile. “uh, yeah. mr. osborn wanted to see me?” “right. hang on.” she nods, dialing his office phone number.
it’s endearing how peter calls him mr. osborn, seeing as the rest of you go with norman. he’s probably the politest guy you’ve ever met.
grinning, liz puts down the phone. “you can go in whenever you’re ready. good luck!” peter laughs nervously and turns to leave. “thanks, you too.” his face falls when he realizes his mistake. “wait, i- i didn’t mean to say that. that was stupid. you’re not-“ “it’s fine, peter,” liz reassures him. his anxiety makes him trip over his words sometimes. that, and he’s a bit dorky in general. you find it rather adorable.
you also wonder what exactly he needs good luck for. he’s not even supposed to be working today, so your curiosity as to what’s going on has been piqued.
“um, i’m gonna go now. bye!” peter rushes off, his face tinted pink from the embarrassing encounter. you’re hoping he’ll stop and talk with you for a little while, but he heads straight to norman’s office. your whole body deflates at that. mj notices from her peripherals.
“what’s the matter? missing your hubby?” she coos, her words dripping in sarcasm. “no,” you lie. “i’m... i don’t know what to write about.” ok, there’s some truth. mj gives you a couple pats on the shoulder. “ask parker for help. you two work... well together. don’t you?” this must be the zillionth time you’ve heard that.
“we do,” you murmur and glance at norman’s closed door. peter is hidden behind it. “i just don’t wanna bug him. he has finals soon, and whatever norman is putting him up to. it’s my job, anyway.” mj pokes your arm. “those sound like excuses to me,” she concludes, still jabbing at you childishly. “you really just don’t wanna tell him you like-“
“can you keep it down?” you hiss, yanking your arm back. “he’s literally right over there.” peter stands up and shakes norman’s hand. you catch it through the blinds on his window. “y/n, you were drooling over his mere presence only minutes ago,” mj prefaces, a smile pulling at her lips. “you can handle three little words. i like you, that’s it. spit it out already.”
you’ll never admit this to mj, but she’s right. you lost your momentum after your first failed attempt to say the three little words. you’re still not sure what stopped you. you’d shared the details of that faithful night with her, and she’s been pushing you to try again since.
the door to norman’s office opens, and out walks peter. he’s beaming after their conversation, which seems like a good sign. harry passes peter on his way in to pay his dad a visit. he claps him on the shoulder, peter happily accepting before continuing his stride back into the main office. it takes a moment to register that he’s coming towards you.
you quickly set your focus back on your computer so he doesn’t think you’ve been watching him. even though, you definitely have.
“y/n!” peter calls your name. he’s on the opposite side of your table, in front of you. “peter!” you match his tone. “i was just dropping by. i thought i’d say hey while i’m here.” he’s still grinning. “what’re you doing?” he looks cute as ever in an oversized and cream colored sweater. his curls are slicked back with a tad too much product, cheeks rosy. you gaze up at him when he rests his arms on the table.
“pretending to be productive,” mj answers for you, pressing her lips together. peter cocks his head to the side. “pretending?” “ignore her. she’s being a shit stirrer today,” you explain. “like every other day,” he jokes, earning a laugh from you. mj just tuts and keeps writing. “talk about me like i’m not here,” she mumbles to herself, then gets back into her article.
“anyways, i thought you didn’t work today?” you ask to take the attention off yourself. also, because you’re curious. “oh! get this.” peter perks up even more, if that’s possible. he has energy like no other. “you know alex in broadcasting? betty’s camera guy?” “what about him?” you wonder. “he called in sick earlier this morning, with the flu or something.” he’s oddly excited to announce this. that prompts you to make a funny face.
biting back another smile, peter elaborates. “mr. osborn needed someone to fill in for him, so he picked me. i’ll be here all week.” it makes sense, since peter knows how to work a camera and does so wonderfully. you give him a celebratory push at his chest. “peter, that’s amazing! this is the perfect way to transition from pictures to film, right?” he’s nearing his finals at school, which consist of more movie-like projects. the news will be great practice.
then, he’s off to hollywood. you’ll put that out of your mind for now.
“exactly! i think it’ll be a good place to start. the pay isn’t bad either.” peter wiggles his eyebrows at you, you giggling once again. you do a lot of that when he’s around. that’s going to be more often now. “plus, i get to see you. everyone wins.” he squeezes your hand that was just on him. your heart begins to thump. “except alex,” you challenge, playing with his fingers. “but, for real. i’m happy you get to do this and that we’ll be spending more time together.”
“thanks, y/n/n. me too.” peter grins and leans over, taking a peek at your computer screen. there’s a blank word document on it. “you never told me what you’re up to,” he chuckles. “guess mj was right... nothing.” “i’m always right,” she chimes in from next to you. you look between the two of them with a scowl. “i haven’t found my story yet. i don’t know, this never happens.” peter nods as you share your dilemma. “no good ideas are coming to me,” you murmur.
“they will. you have a way of attracting things.” he licks his lower lip, your heart completely stopping this time. “well, i gotta go set up for rise and shine with betty brant.” he waves his hand like he’s presenting his words. that’s what betty calls her morning news segment. “be careful with her. she’s being really sketchy these days,” you warn peter, mj grunting in agreement.
confused, peter purses his lips. “really? ned says she’s a sweetheart. they’ve been going out for a while.” mj pops her head up and adjusts her glasses. “did ned also tell you she’s bribing him to give her all of our scoops?” she’s asking rhetorically because she already knows the answer. of course he didn’t. “it’s one thing to not like her. you’re just making things up now,” peter huffs.
mj kicks your foot under the table. “i told you no one would believe us. not even peter gullible parker.” “it’s benjamin,” he corrects her. “whatever,” she brushes it off, resuming her work.
peter does tend to be sort of naive, to only see the good in things when there’s plenty of bad. you’re the same in that way, unless you hang around mj for too long.
“is that true? betty’s stealing your stories?” peter turns to you and asks. you gesture to your screen. “i don’t have one, so you do the math.” he hums sympathetically. he’ll listen to you, never mj. “i’m sorry. thanks for telling me, y/n. i’ll watch out for her.” he bends his fingers to look like goggles, putting them around his eyes. you sigh lightheartedly.
“are you twenty two years old or twelve?” mj remarks, but not without a comeback from peter. “you’re, like, eighty five. worry about that.” they’ve had this type of banter for as long as you’ve known them. it’s equal parts amusing and exhausting. “don’t be late on your first day.” you snap peter out of it with a knowing smile. he returns it.
“i hope something crazy happens so you can write about it.” he’s walking backwards now, towards the elevator. “see you later, pete,” is all you say back, yet another laugh threatening to escape you. “see you. bye, michelle,” peter says just to bug her. “it’s mj,” she groans without looking up. he shrugs. “not so fun, is it?”
after peter is gone, you try to get back into work. or rather, you try to start your work. what he said about you having a way of attracting things keeps ringing in your head. was he flirting? no, he couldn’t have been. peter parker doesn’t flirt. words aren’t his strong suit, and you have countless memories that prove this to be true. earlier with liz, for example.
you’re probably reading way into this. peter was simply doing what any good friend would do and gave you advice.
it’s late in the afternoon when anything worth mentioning happens again. peter is still with betty, as far as you know. they’re probably preparing for the nighttime news now. all you’ve done since seeing him is nibble on snacks and bug mj, who’s almost done with her story despite your distractions. this is really bad, considering your deadline to submit is at the end of today.
you’ve never missed a deadline.
mj emails her work to quentin while you repeatedly bang your head on the table. she hits send before deciding to entertain you. “whatcha doing over there?” she cautiously prompts, powering off her computer. “trying to get an idea. i’m desperate, if you couldn’t tell.” your voice is muffled. “i could.” mj grabs your shoulders and pulls you back so you’re sitting up. you childishly pout.
“y/n, the only thing that’s gonna give you is brain damage,” mj says sternly, then softens her tone. “why don’t you ask for an extension? norman gives me them all the time.” whining, you slump down in your chair again. “yeah, but you’re you! we do things differently, have different expectations put on us.” she’s back to cold mj after you say that. “alright. at least i did something today besides pine over that little-“
mj’s insult for peter is interrupted by harry. “ladies, what’s shaking?” he comes up to you two with a the hint of smirk on his face. you manage a nod to acknowledge him. “oh, hey... harry,” mj unenthusiastically replies. she’s the one person who isn’t really a fan of him. “not much. y/n was just having a tantrum.” “she was not,” you dismiss her. “it’s work stuff. you know your dad.”
harry clicks his tongue in a teasing way. “yep, the grind never stops in this joint. boss man is...” he does the sign for cuckoo with his finger. you laugh a little at that. “in a good way,” you add on. mj only watches you two, blinking blankly. harry gives you a definitive pat on the back. “before i forget, he wants to see you.” that gets mj talking. “norman?” she questions. “your dad?” you choke out at the same time.
“who else? he said you two have to talk.” harry flashes you a weary smile. “have fun in there, old sport.” you’re too busy biting the skin off your bottom lip to respond. “mhm... she will,” mj speaks on your behalf. even she sounds worried. saluting you both, harry leaves to go pester your other colleagues. you’re completely and totally fucked.
“that’s it for me!” you grin sarcastically, freaked out by harry. “i’m fired, aren’t i? i’m definitely about to get fired, and it’s all because-“ “relax!” mj cuts off your rambling. she reaches down and grasps at your wrists. “get it together, y/l/n. you’re the best we have, okay? you aren’t going anywhere.” your grin becomes a frown. “then why does norman wanna talk to me? and, why don’t i have a story?”
mj always has the answers, but this time is the execption. she lets out a breath. “i don’t know. you’ll go find out and tell me what happens.” there’s no use protesting. you’re going to have to face whatever you’re about to at some point. “ok,” you give in, defeated. “i’ll be back soon, i hope.”
the walk to norman’s office feels like a walk of shame. mj can do nothing but sit back and observe it. if this ends the way you think it will, you’ll be collecting your things and won’t ever return. norman is a kind man, and he’s usually pretty understanding. he doesn’t mind the workplace shenanigans as long as you get your job done. unfortunately, you haven’t today.
you hear your boss’s booming voice when you approach his door. inhaling deep, you knock on it, and the room goes silent. “come in,” norman responds after a few seconds. mustering up a smile, you open the door to be met with your doom. “hi, am i interrupting something?” you check. “not at all! you’re just the person i wanted to see. sit, sit,” he beckons you over. he’s not using his angry voice, so maybe you’re in the clear. you enter the room as told.
you’re shocked to see a terrified peter is already in one of the chairs. he visibly relaxes a bit now that you’re here. what the hell is happening? whatever you were expecting, this was the last thing.
taking the armchair next to peter, you sit facing norman’s desk. you nudge his arm to get his attention. his big brown eyes lock with yours. “what’s going on?” you whisper. “no idea,” peter whispers back. the two of you turn to norman again when he claps his hands. he’s plopped down into his cushy leather seat.
“so,” he begins, gaze flicking from peter to you. “you kids know why you’re here?” “is it because i missed my deadline?” you blurt out. you’re once again a nervous wreck. peter doesn’t speak, just winces. “not that. although, i did hear from ned that you turned down his assignment.” norman flicks at a post-it on his desk. “i asked quentin for one instead. me and mj,” you explain, peter’s eyes going wide.
“you talked to quentin? that guy’s bad news,” he murmurs to you. “how so?” norman questions, since it’s his employee. “he- he, um,” peter clears his throat before answering, “he’s super critical, you know? hates all my pictures.” “i love your pictures,” you assure him, the corners of his lips turning up. “your style is so cool. yeah, though. quentin’s pretty bitter.”
considering this, norman drums his fingers on the desk. “i’ll look into that. but, that isn’t why you’re here. i’m letting you off the hook this time.” your whole demeanor changes and a huge weight lifts off of you. “really? you are?” “i have a scoop of my own that i want you to cover,” he continues, peter bumping your knee happily. a toothy grin takes over your face.
“since peter will be sticking around for a while, i want him to join you.” norman waits a beat in case you have any questions. it’s been a minute since you last worked together. peter laughs in disbelief. “you want me to take over for alex and do this?” norman nods proudly. “y/n will need the extra hands, if you have them.” “yes, sir. i do,” peter immediately confirms. “my last class is next thursday, so i have the time.”
“wait, so you’re almost done? that’s awesome!” you bump peter’s knee this time. “yup, all that’s left is finals... and studying.” he mindlessly takes your hand, lacing your fingers together. you’re enjoying his gentle touches. “thank you so much, norman. seriously, i appreciate this a lot,” you tell him and mean it. “hey, no problem,” he chuckles at your eagerness. you grip peter’s hand tighter.
“what’s the story?” “ah, yes. the most important part,” norman starts, peter sharing an excited look with you. “how familiar are you two with spider-man?” his excitement fades at the question posed. it’s unbeknownst to you, caught up in the moment. “uh, same as everyone else, i guess,” you casually reply. “how come?” “he’s your subject.” norman points at you both. “you’re gonna study him over these next few months.”
peter’s hand goes limp in yours, and he gulps hard, throat feeling dry. “you mean, like, an exposé?” “no, no. there will be no exposing,” norman clarifies. “i’m sure he wears the mask for a reason.” that settles peter only slightly. you’re not sure why he’s so tense all of a sudden. “what’s our aim here, then?” you steer the conversation.
“see what new york’s favorite hero gets up to every day, how his life is beyond the crime fighting,” norman further describes your task. peter exhales a shaky breath, shifting away from you in his seat. the golden sun hits his face and reveals a bead of sweat dripping down it. you stare at his figure in worry. “you okay, peter?” “fine. i’m just... hot,” he murmurs back. his sweater does look pretty heavy, so you concede.
getting back to norman’s story, you grimace at the idea. “do you really think people will want to read that? for lack of a better term, it sounds kind of...” you pause. “basic.” “i thought the same thing at first,” he surprisingly agrees with you. “harry pitched the idea to me this morning. you won’t believe it! the other night, he caught spider-man hanging outside his window.”
“harry... harry saw him?” peter squeaks out. he uses the wool material that feels like it’s swallowing him to dab at his forehead. “he stopped on his balcony. must have been pretty late, the kid’s a night owl,” norman says about his son. your face lights up as you listen to him. “he took some shots of spidey in action, when he swung off. i saw a few. they were pretty great.” he’s grinning at his son’s success.
“maybe he’ll get into photography with you, pete,” norman suggests. peter gives him a weak smile in return. “we’d be happy to have him.” he usually has a lot more to say about his career than that. his behavior is starting to genuinely concern you. “anyway,” norman gets back on topic, “it got me thinking. how much do we really know about this guy? we’re supposed to blindly put our trust in him?”
you’re beginning to see the appeal now. you’ve written your share of pieces on the avengers and their methods, tackling the same questions norman just asked you. spider-man shouldn’t be overlooked, especially when he operates so close to your home. this could be another revolutionary superhero story in the making. and, you get to bring peter along for the ride.
“you know what? this has a lot of potential,” you smile at norman, then peter. he has his phone in his lap, fingers flying across the screen. it must be something important. you’ll discuss with norman while he takes care of that. “we could make it a weekly thing, about spider-man’s adventures. find out what we can about the man behind the mask...” peter shoots up in his seat. “without taking it off,” you finish, putting his mind at ease.
“see, i knew you were gonna love it! it was a blessing in disguise, you missing that deadline.” norman bangs his fist on the table with a hearty laugh. “what do you say, peter? you still in?” peter slips his phone back in his pocket. his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “oh, of course. i can’t wait to work with you, y/n/n,” he speaks in a monotone voice, adding on, “again.”
something is definitely bothering him, and it isn’t the weather.
“i gotta go. betty needs me upstairs, so,” peter moves to get up, his body stiff. you assume that’s who he was texting. “thank you again, mr. osborn.” he’s rushing out of the room just like that, until you call after him. “um, don’t you wanna set a time to meet up? so we can get started?” you reasonably ask. “i... i really gotta go. find me later,” peter tells you, giving you both a tight lipped smile and running off.
“the dynamic duo is back!” norman announces to you. you’re disappointed you can’t share that sentiment with peter.
he’s absolutely booking it down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the next elevator. this is bad. this is a nightmare.
peter went from having one of his best days in a while to the worst in not even a full round of work. today started off fine, and got better when norman promoted him. it got way better when you came along. he saw your smile that makes his insides tingle, heard your laugh that’s the prettiest sound to grace his ears, held your hand that he never wants let go.
things went a bit downhill after that. betty was pushy and yelled at him a lot, demanding he only film her good angles for the segment. you and mj weren’t wrong when you told him to be careful.
later on when he saw you again, everything was okay. he was physically shaking as brad told him mr. osborn requested to see him. brad is mr. osborn’s assistant. a try-hard for sure, but good at his job. why did mr. osborn call him in? did betty complain already?
they’d been sitting in mostly silence, save for small talk until you came knocking on the door. simply being next to you was enough to ground peter and his racing thoughts. it was enough, then it wasn’t.
the whole day had gone to shit after he found out you were going to be writing stories about his alter ego. not only that, but he was helping. during the pitch, he’d texted ned to meet him in the bathroom. he was really anxious and needed a friend who understood why.
ned accidentally found out peter is spider-man last year. it’s a long story that involves peter hiding from some bad guys in the building and ned shrieking so loud the lights flickered. they’re cool now that peter talked things through with him. his secret has been kept, from what he knows.
pushing open the men’s bathroom door, peter is a mixture of sweat and ragged breaths. he’s panting from his fast descent down the staircase. he takes in his disheveled appearance using one of the mirrors. his styled hair is now damp and undone, hands trembling and palms sweaty, chest heaving. here’s his daily reminder that anxiety is not cute. as if he didn’t know.
his stupid, gigantic freaking sweater is only making things worse. it’s suffocating him. no one else is in here, so peter pulls it over his head and tosses it to the ground. he’s got a t-shirt on underneath that happens to be black. what a convenient day for him to wear the hottest material there is.
peter splashes his face with some cold water next to try and cool himself down. that doesn’t do much for him. his face still feels like it’s on fire, but now it’s wet. he takes his hands through his mop of curls, backing away from the sink.
“fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck,” peter repeats to himself. he’s silent for a moment, then rage overcomes him. he kicks open a bathroom stall. “shit! i can’t do this. what am i supposed to-“
the door creeks open, so peter shuts up in case it isn’t ned. it thankfully is, and he wears a deep frown at the sight of his best friend. “dude, what happened? you look...” “terrible. i know,” peter finishes for him. he tugs at his locks in another attempt to tame them. ned approaches him carefully. “you’re not, like, dying... are you? because betty was telling me you have to-“ “of course you were with betty,” peter exhales in frustration. “no, ned. i’m not dying.”
in ned’s defense, the text he received was very alarming. all peter wrote was, ‘EMERGENCY. SOS.’
“i mean, yeah. it was my break.” ned sits on the ledge by the window, close to peter. “you do the same with y/n.” the mention of your name upsets peter all over again. he hides his face in his hands as ned watches. “if you’re not dying, then what’s the problem?” ned finally asks. “me and y/n...” peter removes his hands from his face, meeting ned’s worried eyes. “mr. osborn wants us to do a project together.”
“uh, peter? you’ve been saying how much you miss her forever, dude! you’re not excited?” ned snorts at him. he means well, but he has no clue what he’s talking about. “no. it’s supposed to be about spider-man,” peter answers angrily. this isn’t the support he was hoping for. realizing the severity of the situation, ned gets serious.
“oh... but, you’re still doing it?” he questions. “i didn’t have a choice,” peter scoffs out. “i can’t let either of them down.” “you’ll expose yourself!” ned escalates things further. “it’s not like that. we’re gonna follow spider-man around and post updates on him,” peter says, technically in the third person. he’s given an are you insane? look from ned.
“you are spider-man! and, no offense, but you’re not so good at hiding it,” ned refers to himself finding out. “how are you gonna be in two places at once?” damnit, peter hadn’t thought about that yet. he can’t be taking pictures of spider-man and swinging from building to building simultaneously. “i- i’ll figure it out,” peter stammers, unconvincingly.
ned looks him over in a disapproving way. “jeez. you’re really putting your life on the line for this girl-“ “woman,” peter interjects, not loving ned’s attitude towards you. “have some respect.” unfazed, ned gets up from the windowsill. “speaking of women, remember betty? you’re still on the clock,” he changes the subject. peter nearly forgot he has to go film her segment.
“i’ll head up to her now,” peter gives in. he scoops up his discarded sweater, not bothering to check his appearance again. ned follows behind him to the door. “we wrote her script together, you know,” he gladly informs peter, who already knows from you. “not really a flex,” peter mumbles his response. “peter, lighten up.” ned hits at his shoulder. the two of them exit the bathroom.
“you’ll figure this out later. i can always help.” he shoots him a sugary sweet smile. “thanks, ned. for talking with me and everything.” peter doesn’t smile back. they do a quick bro handshake, then they’re going their separate ways. “have a good show, dude!” ned yells back, to which he doesn’t get a response. peter doesn’t have it in him.
he allows himself to take the elevator back up to broadcasting. he’s so drained from the several anxiety attacks he endured. while peter waists for the elevator, he contemplates all the issues he’d better solve. it’s a relief to hear it ding because it brings him back to earth. that doesn’t last long because both you and betty are there when the door opens.
you’d each had the same idea, to find peter. unlike betty, your intentions were good. you asked liz if she saw peter leave. she told you he went downstairs, so you did also. betty was already in the elevator when it got to your stop. she was looking for him because, you guessed it, he had to record the news. the small space was filled with tension as you and betty occupied it.
“perfect. we’re going right back up,” betty beams, motioning for peter with her index finger. “hop in!” “coming,” peter does as told, going to stand between you and betty. she presses the button for your floor and theirs. the doors close. “pete?” you speak up, voice soft. “you kinda ran off earlier. i thought you were with betty.” “clearly, he wasn’t,” betty sneers.
you’re less concerned with her and more with peter. the sweater he looked so huggable in is now folded in his arms, his face splotchy and jaw clenched. he must have gotten triggered by something back in norman’s office.
“are you sure you’re okay? you... you can talk to me about it.” you take a step closer to peter, your doe eyes searching for his. he meets them with a tiny smile. at least, it’s real this time. “i’ll be fine, y/n/n. ‘s nice that you came to check on me, though.” “don’t mention it.” your arms loop around his neck and bring him into a hug. peter hugs you back by your middle, chin resting on your shoulder, breathing out in relief.
you keep your hands on his shoulders when you pull back. his stay on your sides, a lopsided grin now crossing his features. “spider-man...” you quirk an eyebrow. “how are you feeling about that?” “should be cool,” peter somehow maintains himself. “i’m mostly looking forward to doing it with you.”
listening in, betty joins the conversation. “what’s happening with spider-man? anything i should know?” her hand reaches into her bag and emerges with a notepad. does she ever think of her own content? “she’s nothing if not persistent,” you grumble to peter. chuckling, he pulls you into his chest. if he didn’t hold you back, you would’ve pounced on her.
“we’re gonna do a piece on him,” peter tells her. “you can’t copy or steal this one because it’s already been approved,” you contribute, smiling smugly as peter holds you tighter. betty is taken aback. “are you accusing me of stealing? who said i-“ “ned ratted on you... sorry,” peter says in a sing song voice. squealing, you jump away from him. “he did? we were right?”
“mj’s never wrong,” he reiterates. “mj knew about this? oh my god, i can’t believe her!” betty stomps her foot. “we got you on candid camera.” you make a clicking noise with your mouth. peter mimes taking a picture to back you up. “alright, alright. i won’t do it again,” betty mumbles, turning away from you two in annoyance.
“finally!” you hold up your hand for a high five, which peter gives you. “we really do make the best team,” he hums. your fingers intertwine with peter’s, and he lays his palm flat against yours. he prays extremely hard you don’t notice that it’s sweaty. you do, but you couldn’t care less.
“i was wondering when you’d wanna start our... research?” peter asks you, his lip between his teeth. “you were saying something earlier. maybe we could make a schedule.” “how elaborate of us that would be,” you tease. that earns a breathy laugh from peter. with a knowing smile, you put your free hand back on his shoulder.
“what are you doing tonight?”
-
peter parker taglist
@saturnpeter @tpwk-grande @itstaskeen @missyouhollnd @becicamina @dummiesshort @zspideyy @watchitimreadinghere @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines @dpaccione @karispotters11 @theofficialzivadavid @thehumanistsdiary @kelieah @aayaissaa @petersgroupie @annab-nana @tayyx @swtltlmrvlgrl @magicalxdaydream @haoluvver @kjune113 @captainamirica @marvel-dork98 @emmastarz @killingbxys @viriditie @misshale21 @veryholland @liliswifts @tommydarlings @rebelemilu @peterspideysense @cr-uelsummer @dreamy-clousds @quaksonhehe @quxxnxfhxll @blackbat2020 @babyblue19 @falconxbarnes @zachary-s @dirtytissuebox @dracoswhore007 @heavenlyholland @thsquad @etheralholland @dhtomholland @awh-lilies @tomshufflepuff @multifamdomfan12
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if i forgot you please lmk!
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xsugarysweetsx · 3 years
Note
Congrats on 2k mama sweet,,,!! :))
Since there is no sk8 requests yet how about option 2 - Kaoru x reader <3 Had this thought after reading ur arranged marriage fic... how about at the start of the marriage reader thinks that Kaoru is cheating on her when he sneaks out at night but after he tells her about S, reader feels kinda silly for thinking so.. next thing you know Kaoru is taking reader to all the beefs as his lucky charm. Reader even has a matching costume and the others start calling her "Lady Cherry" or smth,, teaches reader to skate (she's lowkey jealous of carla >.<) + some domestic fluff (what if reader finds out she's pregnant....) This doesn't have to be connected to the other fic & you can ignore the cheating part if u like... :-*
A/N: :0 Lady Cherry is a super smart name!
other fic here
Please enjoy~🍰
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There he went again...
The sliding door of your shared room altered you from your sleep. This was the 6th night in a row that he left without a word in the middle of the night. The first 2 nights you thought he was simply tending to business and was just busy. After the 4th day, you were suspicious and a bit hurt. He did tell you he didn’t want to hurt you and treat you right....so where was he going?
This was another night he had gotten up, so instead of staying in bed you followed him. 
“Carla, make sure to lock the doors when I leave“ he said to his AI
“Yes, master“ you scoffed. You had to admit the stupid computer got on your nerves. He practically loved talking to her and every time she answered him, he gets all giddy. You were really jealous but you wish he’d get that way with you.  
Just as he was going to leave you called for him
“Kaoru?“ he froze and turned around “It’s late...“ you said coming closer to him. That’s when you noticed what he was wearing, he was in a sleeveless yukata with a black mask over his face, and a...skateboard?
“Y/N I...um...“ being that he can’t speak about S he was contemplating whether to tell you or not. But you were his wife and he wanted to be open with you on everything. However what you said next caught him off guard
“...if there’s someone else please just tell me...“ and the way you looked when you said it just broke his heart. Did you really think he was cheating? Even though this was arranged, he couldn’t ask for someone better to be his wife. You were smart, shy but bright, not to mention beautiful.
“Y/N“ he walked to you and rests his hand on your shoulder “I would never cheat on you and I assure you there is no one else.”
“Then why do you leave at night?“ you ask
“*Sigh*....I go skating.“ he said bluntly. There was nothing to hide from you and it was all true
“...huh“ he lifted his board for you to see
“Some friends and I go skateboarding in a secret location for races and such. We only go at night so we go unnoticed.“ he held up a small pin “It’s called S..now that you know you can’t tell anyone. Now go throw something on, we’re heading out.“
Just as he said you were heading out in the dead of night. And of course you had to ride on Carla, every time he spoke to her it was like he was talking to his crush. As you approach a gate with two guards he gives you a larger sticker of the letter ‘S’. You show them to security and make it inside where people had started screaming. You knew he was popular among women but this was more than you thought
“Lord Cherry!!” one screamed 
“Kao-”
“Cherry” he interrupted 
“What?”
Getting his bike to a stop he helps you off and says “we don’t use our real names here for security reasons. Here I’m Cherry blossom.” 
So what he was telling you was true. You honestly felt a bit silly for jumping to conclusions so quickly. Before he was off to what he called a ‘beef’ he introduced you to JOE. You were surprised to see the popular chef here as well, although you knew they had been friends for years. The large screen in the area showed you just how goof he was at this. 
He was fast but graceful, sharp an precise on corners. The crowd only cheered louder than before. 
“So, you’re the one he’s been talking about huh?“ Joe asked 
“He’s been...talking about me?“ you asked
He nodded “He was gone for like 3 days in a row not to mention he was brushing off more women now. That’s when he told us there was someone he wanted to be loyal to.” okay, now you felt really silly. After the race was done and over with Cherry had made his way back to you. He comes and embarrass you and whispers in your ear
“You brought me good luck.“ you felt your heart skip a beat from the feeling of being close to him
“oooo, look at Lord Cherry with his lady~“
“Shut up you big oaf!!“
<>
During the next few months you had gone with him to almost every beef. You had even gained a name for yourself, ‘Lady Cherry’. You had become quite popular among some men there and even cherry’s female fans. He would usually bring you as his ‘lucky charm’, it was cheesy but sweet at the same time. They also had a habit of saying 
“The Cherries have arrived“ 
On his free time he would actually taught you how to skate, well he tried anyway. Balance wasn’t exactly easy and being from a traditional family, this was unusual for you. You’d be holding on to his shoulders while his hands held your waist
“Don’t let me fall“
“You’re doing just fine dear. Why don’t we try some tricks“ he offered  
“Are you sure you’re the man I married?“ you ask with a smirk
“The one and only dear“ he kissed your cheek 
It was honestly so cute to him. You’d have a scared but excited look on your face. Your cheeks would turn pink and it just made his heart fluttered. On top of all that you were willing to indulge in something he has loved from a young age. He always took you with him to each beef he attended. Both for showing you off an he is in love with the idea of winning every race for not just himself but for you as well.  
Although tonight you wouldn’t make it to the beef. He was going to race Joe but that was put on hold. You had been feeling sick all day and you just finished emptying your stomach. As much as you told him to go, he refused to leave.
“You’re my wife and you’re clearly not okay“ he said helping you up off the floor “you come before any beef or competition. Now come on, let’s get you to the hospital and get you checked out.“
A short drive to the general hospital was taken that night. No, he would not wait until tomorrow morning. He wanted to know that you were okay and didn’t have anything terminal. After speaking with the nurse and giving some blood and urine samples you both patiently waited. You leaned against him playing with the digits of his fingers. 
*Knock knock* “Ma’am we have your results” the doctor says holding up a couple of papers and even some medicine. “well, you’re clear for any terminal conditions or diseases. although you have some hormonal imbalances and some new ones kicking in.”
“Meaning?“ Kaoru urged him on
“Congratulations, you’re 4 weeks pregnant.“
“....“ you both sat in shock at the news. You were pregnant? Well, you two were active, and maybe Kaoru has his own little rituals. Either after or before a beef he’d get frisky and was set on pleasing you both. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that this would have happened, still it was shocking news
“These are some prenatal vitamins you’ll need to take for the month. Make sure to make an appointment to check on the baby alright?” giving you the vile of pills he takes his leave leaving you both in silence. What were you supposed to say? How were you going to deal with this? Were you even ready?
“-together.“ you didn’t catch his whole sentence 
“I’m sorry what was that?” you ask him
“We’ll this together alright?“ he took your hand in his “believe me I’m as shocked as you are but, we’ll figure this out together okay?“
“Alright“ you smile back 
“We should probably start with a bigger house for the three of us“
<>
“Kaoru, come on it’s just paint I can-“
“You are not moving a muscle“ he cut you off “I want you to rest all you can. You’re making a baby and that’s enough.“
To say he was strict during your pregnancy was an understatement. As soon as your belly started showing you were no longer going to beefs with him. You were currently 6 months along, and expecting a girl! Kaoru was over the moon to know it was a girl. he would have been happy with a boy too, but a little copy of you was like a dream. He couldn't wait to see the little girl that would look like you and act like him.
Today was nursery day, which meant painting, building and organizing. Kaoru had you only fold and organizing the clothes and things while he painted. Of course being your idea you had called the boys over to help. Joe was building some stuff along with Shadow. Langa and Reki were actually helping to paint the walls. 
“I appreciate you guys coming to help“ you smile 
“Hey it’s no problem, at least you told us about it“ Joe commented. Oh yeah, he also wanted to keep it a secret so that 
‘the idiot wouldn’t ruin your pregnancy‘ which made you laugh for a good 5 minutes. But they were very good help and made the process easier 
“Hey so what are you naming the baby?“ Reki asked 
“Well, Kaoru kind of wanted to associate it with his skate name so we agreed on Sakura.“
“AAWWHH“ everyone said out load slightly teasing him. Without turning from the wall he said
“....I just wanted a beautiful name for her was all.“ although he was cold at times they knew he meant well especially for his family.  A while late Joe made a small dinner for you all to enjoy. You thanked them for coming over and you were done for the night. You were putting on some lotion over your rounded middle when Kaoru came behind you. He wrapped his arms around and over your own hands and rested there for a moment
“Who would have thought we’d be here huh?” You whisper
“In all honesty I was hoping for it” he admired “before we married you were described as a caring and sweet woman. But you were so much more once we were married. You’re compassionate, intelligent, stubborn, beautiful, and absolutely perfect” he said kissing the side of your head “and now, you’ve given me the gift of being a father. Thank you”
Turning in his hold you wipe away small tears “oh Kaoru , thank you too. You’ve treated me like I’m the only person you need. On top of that you take care of me but still give me my freedom. I love you..”
“And I love you” he rests his forehead against yours as his fingers trace over your baby bump.
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I hope this was okay!❤️
855 notes · View notes
telfordelle · 3 years
Text
Naughty
Characters: Filip "Chibs" Telford x Y/N
A/N: I just had to get this out of my system, I guess. Also, here's a recipe for the Purple Nurple
Words: ~ 2.2k
Warning: Smut
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You were in the Clubhouse, sitting in front of the bar. Nobody in the club knew that you two had something going on. You weren't sure why Chibs hadn't introduced you yet, but you were fed up with hearing his excuses over and over again. Therefore, you figured that it was time to provoke your man a little bit. You knew that the club was having a party this evening, so you decided to dress up and surprise your favourite Scot. Your black lacy lingerie was brand new, and he hadn't seen it yet. He was in for a surprise when he'd undress you this evening.
"Another beer, honey?" Gemma asked you. You nodded and thanked her after she had slid the beer over the counter to you. Gemma came around the bar and sat on the stool beside you.
"Is everything okay?" she wanted to know. You chuckled - Gemma had always been good at sensing your mood.
You had known Gemma since you were young. Her son Thomas had been your best friend in kindergarten and first grade. It had broken your heart when your best friend's health was getting worse and worse, and after his death, you had been devastated. From that time on, Gemma had taken you under her wing.
"Nah, it's nothing. Work's just a bit stressful at the moment," you lied, hoping that she wouldn't notice it. But of course, she would. After all, it was Gemma you were talking to.
"Honey, I know that this is not your 'my work sucks' face but your 'men problems' face."
You sighed. Why was she so good at reading you?
"You're right," you admitted.
"So, what kind of man is troubling you?" she asked.
"The kind who doesn't seem to be sure if he wants a serious relationship or not."
"What makes you think so?" she asked, "Did he say that directly?"
"We've been together for a while now, and I know that he’s the type to be in a serious relationship, but he doesn’t want to make it official and introduce me to his friends,“ you complained.
"Well, did you introduce him to yours?" She raised an eyebrow as if to prove her point.
"Gemma, that's not the point. I mean, he made it pretty clear that he isn't interested in that. So he probably also isn't that interested in me," you replied sulkily.
"Honey, maybe he just needs some time. Also, men can be pretty dense sometimes. You two should probably just talk it out, trust me. I've been with the most stubborn and dense men you can find in Charming," she said, laughing heartily. Hearing her laugh, you couldn’t help it and joined in.
"Well, I hope everything will work out in your favour. I'll see you later!"
You nodded and smiled at her. Talking to Gemma always lifted your mood.
You grabbed your beer, took a big sip, and looked around the Clubhouse. You were familiar with most of the club members, but as always, there were also some people you didn't recognize - especially the Crow Eaters. Sometimes you wondered if Chibs still hung around with some of them. Whenever you tried talking to him about making it official, he was blocking you. He said that he had his reasons, and at first, you believed him, but as the situation didn't improve, you got increasingly frustrated. And speaking of the devil, or rather, thinking of the devil, there he was.
You gulped, why was he so sexy? You took another sip of your beer, debating whether you should just go to him or leave the decision up to him. Mentally, you slapped yourself to stop staring at the Scot. To your displeasure, you found that others were also interested in your man. Fucking Crow Eaters. One of those bitches was clinging to the Scot, ogling him. You clenched your fists as soon as she started to caress his shoulder in a flirty way. Forcing yourself to look away, you exed your beer, giving the guy at the bar a sign that you wanted another one. Or even better, something stronger. You ordered a Purple Nurple, hoping that this one would numb your thoughts - and feelings.
Still, you couldn't help it and had to sneak a peek. And what you saw made you hold your breath. That bitch from before had her hand in your man's back pocket, and it seemed as if she was biting his earlobe. Instead of pushing her away, he was - grinning?
You saw red. Alright, two could play this game. It was time to take some action. You knew that Tig was always up for some fun, no feelings attached, so you made your way over to him.
"Hey, Tigger," you greeted him. You used the nickname because you knew that it would make Chibs furious - albeit knowing that he couldn't even hear you at this moment.
"Y/N, what's up?" he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Wanna dance?" you asked.
"Sure, babe," Tig replied, smirking. He took your hand and led you to the centre of the room.
You circled each other, gazes remaining locked. You knew that the other Sons were watching you, so you were fairly certain that Chibs' eyes would also be on you. Tig wiggled his eyebrows as you danced towards him, lewdly swaying your hips. You gently rested your hands on his chest. Slowly, your hands slid down his body as... you could hear someone clear their throat.
"Am I interruptin' somethin'?" that someone asked with a thick Scottish accent. You turned around and were greeted by an angry-looking face. Chibs nodded at Tig, who got the hint and excused himself.
"What's your problem?" you asked, knowing that the question would get him even more agitated. His eyes turned dark.
"You're mine," he growled.
"Well, last time I checked, you weren't willing to tell anyone about us," you snapped.
"Then it's time to change that," he replied, scowling.
"Oh, all of a sudden?" you retorted. You knew that you got what you wanted, but it still made you angry that you had to play the jealousy card.
"Lass, ye'r comin' wi' me," he said huskily. Chibs grabbed you by your wrist and pulled you with him towards the door. While being dragged away, you caught a glimpse of Gemma, who was smirking. Of course, she would connect the dots immediately.
Instead of going to his bike, he went for one of the trucks.
"Get in," he growled, holding one of the doors open.
"Why should I?" you replied, arms crossed in front of your chest.
"I'm not discussin' this wi' ye," he answered. You knew that both of you had done their wrongs, so you got in without another word.
The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. You just hoped that you would get to your flat soon. Your eyes kept wandering to him. Did you finally fuck up? Was this the point of no return? All you wanted was for him to finally acknowledge you in front of the others. You sighed. You sighed. Finally, you arrived at your flat. He went straight for the door. Reluctantly, you got out of the truck. Had you pissed him off so much that he would end your relationship? Hands trembling, you opened the main entrance and went up the stairs. You could hear him follow you. Luckily, your apartment was on the second floor.
"I'm so angry wi' ye right now, I cannae put it into words," he snapped.
 "Tch, what are you angry for?" you huffed. 
He growled. "Ye'r MINE, lass." His eyes had a dangerous glint to them. If you hadn't been so angry, maybe you would have been turned on by now. Scratch that, you definitely were turned on. But you still had to stand your ground.
 "Yours, huh? Certainly didn't seem like it when that fucking Crow Eater was feeling you up. You don't even have the balls to tell the others about me! Maybe I'm just tired of waiting, Tig didn't seem to have a problem being seen with me in public." You looked at him challengingly.
And Chibs snapped. He saw red, thinking back about you dancing with Tig, touching him. He pinned you against the door and kissed you hard, wandering from your mouth to your neck. You moaned into his ear, which only turned him on even more. You could feel how hard he was, and you began stroking him through his pants.
"Bed," he growled while picking you up. But instead of just throwing you onto the bed, he sat on its edge and bent you over his knees.
"You've been bad, lassie," he murmured while grabbing your ass.
"Guess I have to punish ye," he drawled, accent getting thicker the more turned on he got.
"Lift yer ass," he said, tone demanding. You did what he said, and he immediately pulled down your shorts, taking in a sharp breath as he saw your new lingerie. It seemed as if your surprise was working. Frantically, he also took off your shirt.
"Ye look good. But don't think you'll get off your punishment just because of that," he hummed, rubbing you through your pants. You hissed - you were already wet. He began rummaging through the bedside cabinet where you stored your toys. He chuckled, which probably meant that he had found what he had been looking for. He blindfolded you and you could hear him opening a bottle. You shivered in anticipation. He pushed your panties aside and let two fingers glide between your buttcheeks, making them slick with lube. You gasped as he entered your hole.
"Relax," he murmured into your ear. You concentrated on his voice.
"Maybe this will help you," he said. Before you could ask him what he meant, he shoved something into your mouth. "Suck on it," he commanded. You recognized the shape as one of your buttplugs. You squirmed under his touch, excited for what was about to happen. Maybe you should be naughty more often if that meant that he would punish you this way.
He removed his fingers, only to replace them with the buttplug shortly after. You drew in a sharp breath.
"Ye like that, dinnae ye?" His thick voice made you even wetter, which he immediately noticed.
Still bent over his knees, he spanked you a couple of times. Each time his hand connected with your ass, a wave of pleasure surged through you. Blindfolded, every sensation felt more intense. You bit back a moan.
Sternly, Chibs told you to get on all fours and lift your arse. You could hear from the sound of his voice that he was annoyed with you. He was displeased with your behavior at the clubhouse. Now he had to make you behave again.
You heard him opening his jeans and sliding them down his hips. They fell to the floor with a thud. You were so wet, he would be able to slide into you at once. You bit your lip, and your hips rolled involuntarily at the thought of this. You needed some friction, right now. You needed HIM. You gasped as he opened your lips with the head of his hard cock, teasing you because he didn't immediately put it inside you. It felt like an eternity. Chibs ran the tip of his cock up and down your folds, making you long for more.
"Filip," you whimpered, begging him to finally fuck you.
"Don't come. I'm going tae fuck ye just a little 'n' slowly. Don't ye dare come before ah say so."
He thrust into you, at last giving you what you so desperately needed. Spreading your buttcheeks, he stroke over the buttplug with his thumb, making you moan out loud. Chibs leaned over you, bringing his hot mouth toward your ear.
 "Who's the only one allowed to touch ye?"

"Y-you," you barely managed to get out.
"What was that? Say it louder," he demanded. Why was his voice so sexy?
"You!" you cried out with pleasure.
"Good girl," he murmured into your ear before grabbing your hips and beginning to fuck you harder and faster. You were almost there, but he hasn't allowed you to come. You spread your legs wider, rotating your hips and meeting his movements. Your breath became short.
"Do ye want to come?" Not being able to form any coherent sentence, you just nodded.
Instead of answering, he took off the blindfold, flipped you over, and kissed you hard. His thrusts became more erratic. He brushed your hair out of your face and leaned his forehead against yours.
Your orgasm hit you like an earthquake, bucking your hips you enclosed Chibs with your legs, wanting to feel him even deeper inside you, be even more connected with him. He groaned and you could feel his cock twitching as he came, shuddering. He kissed you deeply, almost tenderly, conveying all his feelings for you.
------------------------------------------------------
Both of you were still shaking, as you snuggled up to him.
"When are we going to tell the others?" you wanted to know.
"Lass, I don't think there's a need to do that anymore - they already know now," he laughed.
You punched his shoulder, glaring at him.
"Alright, alright, I got the message. Tomorrow, okay?"
Well, you could live with that. Smiling, you cuddled up against him, never wanting to let go again, ever.
268 notes · View notes
literaila · 3 years
Text
hopeless reality
BAU team x reader 
request: Hii! I’m in serious need of some angsty sshhiiiit and I love your writing... Could you maybe write some platonic BAU x reader where the reader is the youngest, idk she can be like 20 or something, and a case goes TERRIBLY wrong and she’s injure dying and everyone’s like but she can’t die, she was supposed to outlive us all!
warnings: kinda sad, panicked everyone, hotch basically abandons all of them, some spoliers past season 6, no concrete ending.. 
a/n: I’VE NEVER WRITTEN ANYTHING LIKE THIS ITS SO DIFFERENT 
*
“I can do it.” 
Those words weren't surprising for any of them. 
As the youngest, Y/N was always looking for new ways to prove herself to all of them. She was used to the staring, and the scoffs people made when they saw her next to the all mighty prestigious BAU team. She was used to people looking at her and wondering if they had picked someone up off of the highway, or if she was a murder just riding along with them. She was used to being undermined and underestimated by everyone. 
Age was a tricky little thing people didn't seem to look past. 
But it wasn't as if she put up with it. When the local police officers were making side remarks about her right behind her back, she didn't keep her mouth shut. Didn't stand there and listen to them expect nothing of her. 
And she enjoyed the looks on their faces when they realized she was listening. She liked the stammered apologies that came out of their mouths while she stared them down. 
She wasn't one to bite her tongue. 
And she had something to prove, to herself and to all of her teammates. She had to show them that she was valuable, that her age didn't affect how much she could do, how much she was willing to do. 
And so, it was expected when she offered herself up like a doll for sale. 
It's what happens during every case. 
This time though, all of her teammates nodded along with her. It was a man closer to her age, only a couple of years older, and she was the most likely to lure him. The most likely to trap him in the prison of being caught. 
“Okay, Y/L/N will go in, Morgan and Rossi follow her in as backup, blend into the crowd.” Everyone awaited Hotch's formal orders, ready to finally be done with the case that had taken them days to solve. “You three need to remember, he's going to be on the lookout for us, he's definitely seen the news by now.” 
The three of them nodded, Y/N already antsy on her feet as she waited to leave. Definitely the most willing to catch him out of anybody else in the room. 
She nodded at the rest of the team, smiling at Garcia’s “See you soon Neptune! Be careful.” from the phone on the table. She grabbed her bag, filled with clothes that would help her fit into the bar scene, and her vest. Just in case. 
She started to walk out the door, trailing after Morgan and Rossi as they got ready to leave when Hotch called her back into the room. 
Everyone else had already left, and her nerves were telling her to continue walking and get to her job, but out of anyone else there, she was used to being pulled back behind. 
“Yeah, Hotch?” 
“You shouldn't hesitate to call in Derek or Dave, this unsub isn't going to stick around if he suspects something. You know that?” 
It took all of her willpower not to roll her eyes at his protective instincts, instead going for a smile, hoping to ease whatever paternal nerves he could be feeling. 
“Course, Hotchner. I know what to do.” 
She nodded at him, choosing not to stay any longer than she had to, saving herself from his double-checking, and reassuring. 
She waved with one of her hands walking out the door. 
*
Wearing a dress and both a bulletproof vest was extremely uncomfortable. Especially when it was supposed to be discreet. 
Y/N sat in the middle of the bar, sipping on a fake drink, throwing smiles to anybody who seemed to look at her, waiting for the one person she needed looks from to approach her. 
She knew what to expect, an alpha male, expecting her to fall under his wing and go with him home- which of course would be when he would torture and murder her like he did all those other girls -and she wasn't going to let herself slip up when he was so close. 
A couple of guys had come up to her already, asking her if she was new around if she needed some help getting home, if she was lost in a bar like this one. All things that she tried not to show disgust at, smiling and telling them she was expecting someone. 
Though, when she saw him, she knew he would be different. 
He was carrying himself differently. Smirking at everyone else, unlike a normal too confident male would. It was more threatening, like he expected everyone in the room to do whatever he said, whenever he said. 
An alpha male. 
Y/N could tell in almost an instant that this was her guy, and that it was time to put on a show. 
*
It was an easy catch. The bait pulled him perfectly. 
And she played the part just as expected. 
Laughing at everything he said, smiling at him whenever she got the opportunity, drinking the drink she knew he was planning to spike soon. 
It was a rehearsed part, one she was exceptional at. 
But, when he started pushing her, begging her to come home with him, promising her that he would make it worth her while, she didn't know what to do. 
With the last girls, he had waited longer, drugged them before he even dared to take them home, stayed at the bar with them so that they would be more comfortable with him. 
But it had only been twenty minutes, only a short minute since he had first looked at her. 
He was devolving too fast. 
Y/N smiled, trying not to let the sudden nerves she felt show in her eyes, trying to keep herself comfortable sitting so close to him. 
She looked over to Derek, who was sitting across the bar, pretending to drink while he listened to their conversation. He was looking back at her, giving her a look that she knew was asking if she was okay, if she knew what to do. He was worried too. 
She took a quiet deep breath in. 
“I haven't finished my drink yet,” she said, playing dumb, trying to act like she was innocent enough, trying to test him. 
“I have plenty of drinks back at my place.” 
She giggled, playing with the bracelet on her wrist, looking back over to Derek. 
“It's so early in the night…” She whispered, flaunting her confidence, playing off her “drunkenness” as best as she could while still smiling at him. 
But she could tell that he was getting impatient, and wasn't willing to wait anymore. 
“What game are you playing?” 
And she could hear his real voice. Not the man that went to strange bars to pick up women, but the man who murdered them as soon as he took them home. The man who was planning to murder her. 
She looked over to Derek once more, once too much. 
The unsub was looking with her, glaring eyes meeting Derek’s, and the reaction was written out in front of all of them. 
He had seen Derek on TV. Seen him with the FBI. 
He turned back around, his hand slipping to his pocket. 
“You’re with them huh?” He was whispering, but his voice was demanding, furious. 
And the giggle that came out Y/N wasn't fake this time, just nervous. 
“What are you talking about?” She asked, her feet tapping on the barstool, her body getting ready to run, trying to smile. 
“The FBI.” 
He spat the words in her face. The smile falling from her lips. 
The hand moving to point at her. 
What was it she wondered? 
What was pain? 
“Physical pain inspires the worst kind of helplessness.” 
*
Ambulances were surprisingly loud. 
Louder than you’d assume. 
They were threatening, and dangerous, and did nothing to help give you hope. 
Derek didn't get scared. He didn't need hope to keep him upright, he wasn't threatened by any of the ambulances that he had seen before, he didn't find them too loud. 
But he was supposed to be protecting her. 
They all knew, going into the bar, before the bar, that it was dangerous. They all knew that there was a strong possibility that she could get hurt. But she was cautious, and she was brave. So he didn't worry. He didn't think he had to worry. Even with an unsub who was known for lashing out, for making big decisions with no thought. Hotch had told Derek, all of them, that this would be harder than normal, that they needed to be more watchful, more careful. 
She’d been laughing with them in the car on the way over. Telling them that if either Derek or Rossi got in the way of her job, she’d disown them as her friends. She’d laughed and joked with them, not an ounce of fear in her eyes, no anxiety resting upon her body.
But he saw that look in her eyes. 
That strange scared look. 
It was unfamiliar, an anomaly to him. He’d never seen her eyes like that. 
She was the youngest, the most daring, the person who offered to do anything that no one else wanted to. 
She laughed when one of them said they were too tired to go out for drinks, offered to watch both Hotch and JJ kids when they were busy. She moved between them like she was mending with them, and she was everyone's best friend. 
She took too many risks, moved too fast, thought too hard. She did everything on a whim, but it was impossible to stop her. Impossible to fade her from the scene. Impossible for anything to scare her like it would any person. 
He’d never had to worry about her before. 
She’d made it clear that she could take care of herself, that she was strong, that just because she was the youngest and most inexperienced, it didn't mean she couldn't do what any one of them could. 
She was so strong. 
And he’d never seen that look in her eyes before. 
Desperation, trepidation. Two things that had never filled his body like in that moment. 
He could see the unsub moving, he could see her worried eyes, her panicked posture. He saw everyone else around them, moving normally, none of them quite as scared as she was. He saw Rossi looking over at him from the bar. 
And he saw the gun in the unsubs hands. 
He wished he had been paying attention more, watching her, checking to make sure she seemed just fine. He wished he had watched the unsub, checked to make sure he couldn't see any weapons on him. He wished that he could’ve done it all over again, asked her to step back, to let him catch the guy. 
And he wished he could’ve been fast enough. 
The unsub had pulled out the gun, had stared at her with his threatening eyes, and she moved back, tried to get away but, she wasn't fast enough, and the unsub was too quick. 
Derek had watched her stumble backward. He watched the pain light in her eyes and the panic fade out. 
She used to tease him about watching everything. 
“We aren't at work, you don't have to profile everyone in the room, Derek.” 
Then she’d pass him a drink. Tell him that it was supposed to be fun, that they all needed a little more fun in their lives. 
But now, all Derek needed was to get her eyes out of his head. 
Her eyes were so desperate and panicked and worried for everyone, for everything. Her eyes were usually so brave and so curious. 
He needed to get them out of his head, he needed this moment to be over. 
He needed to not be sitting in the back of an ambulance with her. 
It was surprisingly loud. 
And scary. 
He’d never been scared like this before. 
*
Rossi wasn't worried. 
He wasn't. Really. 
He knew her, knew how fast her body would spring back, rejuvenate itself. He knew that she was strong, that she could stand any amount of pain, that when he saw her next she would be smiling, and she’d ask him if this meant they could have a party. 
He knew she’d be fine. 
He wasn't allowed to go in the ambulance with Y/N and Derek. The paramedics assured both him and Derek that only one could go, and Rossi could see the time slipping past them. He could see the clock ticking and he knew that they had to speed things up. 
So, he’d pushed Derek into the ambulance. 
He wasn't worried, so why would he go with her? 
Besides, Derek was scared. He was shut down and focused so much on her, Rossi thought that Derek would have fought him for the place in the ambulance. 
He thought about all the people he’d seen get hurt while working this job. Thought about all the times one of them made a mistake, or someone wasn't quick enough. Most of the time, they were fine. Not many people got hurt on the job. 
There was always a couple weeks of leave, a couple weeks to get themselves back together, but they always came back. 
He hadn't seen too many people die. 
So he wasn't worried. The odds were that she would live. The odds were that she would be completely fine by the time he got to the hospital. 
Because she was strong. She was healthy, had a young body, and more energy than she needed in the first place. 
Rossi thought it might be good for her to slow down. This might be a good experience for someone like her. Someone who takes too many risks, goes out on a whim, and doesn't slow down even when she has the chance. 
This might help her become a better agent. Someone more careful. 
He wasn't worried. 
She’d be fine. 
Really. 
*
JJ got the news first. 
Back at the police department, while they were clearing up. She knew that Derek, Hotch, and Rossi all knew. She knew that the unsub had clued into who Y/N was, she knew that Derek and Rossi hadn't been enough to protect her. She knew that Y/N was on her way to the hospital, that she’d been shot in the field. 
They didn't tell her where. Or how she was doing. 
JJ had been here before. She had been in the situation of not knowing, of constant anxiety, of the questions that just bang back and forth in your head until you can get your answers. 
She knew how that felt. 
She looked over to Spencer and Emily, both of them clueless to what was going on, to their friend being brought to the hospital. 
“Have you got the unsub detained?” She whispered, leaving the room, trying to gather all of the facts before she made assumptions. 
“Yes. He's on his way to the police station now.” 
“And no one else was hurt?” 
“No.” 
JJ nodded to herself, feeling relieved at the news. 
The questions were in her head, spinning around. She knew that she wouldn't have any of them answered any time soon. Not until they could get into the hospital and see her. 
“And JJ?” 
Hotch’s voice was the same as always. Demanding. 
“Yes?” 
“I need you to tell Spencer and Emily.” 
“Hotch-” 
“I’ve got to go.” 
And then she was left. With her news. And her questions. 
And her confusion. 
Of how this could ever have happened. 
*
Hotch wasn't allowed to have a reaction. He wasn't allowed to think about it. 
He was working. He had to do his job. 
Members of his team had been shot before. 
They all knew the risk there was in going in. They all knew how disguises couldn't hide everything. And they all knew that people got hurt doing the job. 
It wasn't surprising. Wasn't anything new. 
But she had reassured him. She had told him she knew what she was doing, she knew what she was doing. 
He had believed her. 
He could hear his voice in her head, telling all of them that she would do it. Like she always did. Like every other time, she got the chance. 
She never took a step back, never looked at the situation before offering to go. 
It was reckless and stupid. 
No one ever said a thing. When she offered to be the bait, all of them accepted it, expected it. They all knew that she would be the first to jump at the chance to go out in the field. They all knew that she was smart and strong, and she knew what she was doing. 
None of them ever said no. It was so hard to say no to her. 
But she had reassured him, Hotch had double-checked this time, just to make sure she would be safe. He put two experienced agents as her back up, two people that he trusted and knew would protect her. 
“I can do it.” 
She could do it. 
She’d been shot. 
And he felt like blaming himself, felt like being angry, furious at her for offering to go, for reassuring him and lying, and he felt like being angry at himself for letting him go, for not properly preparing her. 
But he didn't have time to ponder those thoughts. 
He didn't have the time. 
He couldn't have a reaction. 
He had a job to do. 
He was working. 
He wouldn't think of it. 
*
Emily probably knew better than anyone else. 
She was probably most familiar with pain. With hurt. 
She knew how this would affect her, she knew how she would feel. She knew how it would change her even after she was healed. She knew how the scar would never leave her body, and that she would wince every time she saw it. 
No matter how much Emily wished she wouldn't understand, she did. 
She knew what would happen to Y/N. 
If she lived that is. If she was strong enough, if the bullet wasn't stronger than her. If she wasn't too late, if the doctors could save her. If she would stay alive. 
And she would be there this time. 
If she died. If the world was cruel enough to take her away. 
She would have to be with her friends, she wasn't allowed to run away again. She wasn't allowed to go across the world and break alone, she wasn't allowed to turn her back like she had before. Even if she wanted to. Even if running away seemed like the only thing she could do. She would stand by them, and learn what it felt like to have your friend die. 
But she wouldn't come back. 
That was probably the hardest thought. 
If Y/N died, she wouldn't have the opportunity to come back. She wouldn't have the months to heal, the job across the world, she would have the pain of knowing that her friends thought she was dead, but she also wouldn't have any pain. 
She’d be dead. Gone. Forever. 
And Emily knew what that meant. 
It almost killed her to know that. 
When she watched Spencer freeze as JJ told both of them, when she saw the worry in JJ’s eyes, she knew that the only thing she could do was be there for all of them. For her, if she could. And for them, if she had to. 
It was a scary thing to know your friend was hurt. To know that while everything else in the world stayed the same, several hearts were breaking with the knowledge of the pain their friend was in. It was crazy to think that not everyone's world changed. 
It was selfish of her to be thinking of herself, to be avoiding the memories and the thought that came with Y/N being dead. It was selfish to assume she was. It was selfish that she wasn't doing anything to help her friends, to help herself. It was terrible of her not to hope, not allow herself to feel some relief. 
But she had to protect herself. 
Expect the worse, welcome the best. 
Emily was scared. She was scared for Y/N, scared to be there this time, scared to have to hold everyone together like she couldn't before. Scared for the worse to be the reality. For her friend to really be gone. 
She could hear her laugh in her head. She knew that it wouldn't leave. It wouldn't go away until Emily could hear it again. 
Pain. 
She was so familiar with. She was so used to. 
Pain. 
Emily probably knew that better than anyone else. 
*
38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year. 
An average of 100 a day. 
That's all Spencer knew. 
He didn't know what was going to happen, if she would live, if she would die, if she was okay, if she wasn't. He didn't know what they would do without her, what would happen if she really did die, if the youngest died before any of the oldest could. 
He didn't know how everyone would feel, how he would feel if she died. 
He didn't know what any of them would do without her laughter, without her pushing for them to have fun when work was over, without her running around the office, making everything seem bright when it was nothing but dim. 
He didn't know what would happen. What was happening? 
But he knew
38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year. 
An average of 100 a day. 
He knew that if he could see her, if he had more information about what had happened, he could figure out the probability that she would live. He knew that if he had been there, he would know how to feel, what was going to happen. 
But they were sitting in the hospital waiting room. They couldn't see her yet. 
Derek hadn't said a word. Emily was sitting next to Spencer. JJ was walking around, checking on all of them instead of herself, being as selfless as she could while they were all stuck in a state of panic. 
Rossi was talking to the nurse again. 
There still wasn't any news. 
None of them were sure how she could’ve been hurt, with her vest, and her self defense techniques. None of them were sure how hurt she could be. 
But 
38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year. 
An average of 100 a day. 
Spencer held onto that. 
She wouldn't be one of the hundred. She wouldn't. 
He thought of the sleepovers Y/N, Garcia, and he had. Like children. He thought of how both of them spent the entire night picking on him, trying to make him laugh. He thought of how she always convinced the two of them to come over, told them that it was movie night even if it was a completely random day. 
He hated the thought of not doing that anymore. 
38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year. 
An average of 100 a day. 
She was the youngest. Everyone teased her about it. They all expected her to live for a hundred years, far longer than any of them could. She was the youngest and the brightest and the bravest. She wasn't supposed to die before any of them could. 
38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year. 
An average of 100 a day. 
When she had offered to be the bait, Spencer hadn't felt worried. He didn't even think of her getting hurt, only felt relieved that this case would finally be over, that they could all go home. He didn't worry at all. 
But he should have. 
Because she always did this, she always offered, and no one ever turned her down. The odds were that she should’ve gotten hurt long before this. 
Odds were that she was extremely lucky. 
Except for now. 
38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year. 
An average of 100 a day. 
Spencer didn't know what would happen. He didn't know if she would live, if she would die. He didn't know what would happen. He barely knew anything at all. 
But Derek wasn't talking, Emily was silent, JJ was avoiding the topic, and Rossi had asked the nurse for an update eight times in the last thirty minutes. 
He didn't know. 
38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year. 
An average of 100 a day. 
She wouldn't be one of the hundred. 
She couldn't. 
*
Before JJ had told her, Penelope knew something was off. 
No one had called her to update on if they had got him or not. Her phone had been completely silent. 
That was off. 
She called her Neptune. 
It was one of the planets that couldn't be seen from Earth. 
She’d always asked where the nickname had come from. 
Penelope had called her that because Y/N was unreachable to her. She held so much, all this brightness, and you could barely even tell from the surface. 
It was a nickname that seemed to fit her more than anything else. 
And she couldn't help but think of it as soon as she got the call. 
Neptune. Her best friend. 
She didn't understand much about profilers, but she knew that Y/N was different from all of her other friends. She didn't know if it was because she was younger, and less experienced, or if she just carried something different to her. 
But it was a smart decision to be her best friend, to depend on her. 
They’d spent nights together, laughing, creating insanity with every sentence, every hour that ticked past on the clock. They’d spent time laughing, and crying, learning everything they could about each other. 
‘Best friend’ was a loose term, one that didn't extend far enough for their relationship. 
And Penelope had known something was wrong, as soon as no one had called her. 
The first thought was that the unsub had gotten away, that he was going somewhere else and they still had to catch him. 
But she knew that wasn't true, because they hadn't called her to help. 
And then she thought that maybe he had been difficult, that maybe it was taking all of the team to help deal with him. 
But, that didn't seem quite right. 
And then she thought of all the other times something like this had happened, when she hadn't gotten a phone call, and there was nothing but silence for a couple of hours. 
And all she could think of, was the day Emily almost died. 
And then the bullet Spencer had taken to the leg. 
And then the stabbing Hotch had been through. 
For Penelope, after those thoughts, she didn't have any choice but to find out where they were. 
So, she hacked their phones. 
It wasn't completely rational, but Penelope had never proved to do things that were rational before. And she was far too protective to not do anything. 
JJ’s phone showed up at the police department they were working from. So did Emily and Spencers. Hotch was somewhere across town. Rossi was still at the bar, and Derek was at the nearby Emergency Room. 
By the time she had gotten to Y/N, she knew something was wrong. 
One of them was hurt. 
*
When she finally got the phone call, she had already pulled some of her hair out, stalked the news, tried to hack into the hospital's patient list- which she couldn't because not all of it was digital -and bitten off almost all of her nails. 
JJ had told her, just like JJ always did, informing all of them the best she could. 
And they didn't know enough. 
Penelope had no idea how her best friend was, and even though she’d asked over and over, what had happened, JJ didn't have any answers for her. 
It was a stupid situation. 
Penelope hoped she wasn't hurt. That the bullet hadn't gotten anywhere near anything important, that she would live just as Penelope had years ago. 
If she had lived, so could Y/N. 
She was young and strong and she had been wearing a vest, and there was nothing wrong with her, if they didn't know anything it was good. It was good that no one had told them anything. 
That meant she wasn't dead yet. 
And that's all Penelope had to hold onto. 
She called her Neptune. Because she was unreachable. 
She would be fine. 
*
Her eyes. They looked so scared. Derek was so scared. 
She would be fine. Rossi knew. 
JJ didn't know how this could have happened. 
He wouldn't think of it. He was working. 
Emily knew better than anyone else. 
38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year. 
An average of 100 a day. 
She called her Neptune. 
She was the youngest out of all of them. 
She had to be okay. 
*
my masterlist here. 
900 notes · View notes
sinisterlyhan · 3 years
Text
03. seo changbin /  9211 words
sugardaddy!changbin, virgin! sugarbaby!female reader, faint daddy kink, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, fingering, romance
tw: none, except for a small disclaimer that this is pure fiction and hyunjin would in no way disrespect anybody in real life, he is a very good boy. 
cw: body image (reader is on the skinner side)
a/n: this took me so long and the smut isn’t even that good, i’ll unfortunately admit 😭 and i’m sorry i couldn’t fit everything the request asked for in a oneshot. 
req:
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changbin found it absolutely endearing that you went out of your way to research how to properly behave in an extravagant business party after he invited you to one. yet, even then, you still trailed behind him timidly as he threaded through one big name after another, throwing out company finances and business plans in between all the courtesy talks.
that was disregarding the fact that you looked stunning in the silk dress and diamond jewelry he prepared for you beforehand. the curves of your body further accentuated through the tight-fitting material, and your skin glowed under the old money hung around your neck.
he almost wanted to ditch the party so he could spend the rest of the evening with you back in his apartment, specifically at a spot where the big windows stood overlooking the vibrant city of seoul.
but it was an important party he has to attend, out of business purposes, so he had no other choice but to keep his lust (and possessiveness, as everyone seemed to be undressing you with their nosy fucking eyes) hidden in the secret glances, the suggestive whispers, and occasionally grabby hands.
besides, you still haven't quite agreed to the sex part of the contract yet. you were still a little anxious about it, he supposed. after all, it would be your first time if you agree to do it with him. either way, the farthest he could go was a make-out session with roaming hands, and that seemed to be enough for him.
"ah, shit."
you heard changbin curse from next to you, his low voice hidden under his breath so nobody would hear him. you glanced over, surprised. he has been so calm and collected this evening, with all his time spent speaking eloquently and intelligently. this sudden outburst completely deviated from the atmosphere he was carrying tonight, and you wondered what got him so agitated.
moving your eyes toward where he looked at, your brows raised at a familiar face standing in a circle of people. you were never extremely invested in the business field, as your brain was diving headfirst into the art field (one which changbin has shown to fully support, with both his money and his heart), but you still knew that face.
hwang hyunjin—the young and outrageously successful entrepreneur whose face was plastered all over the media because of his underdog story and womanizing tendencies.
and who, also, as you knew, has unfortunately grown to be very arrogant and condescending after his lucky success. and if there was one thing he has made clear during interviews and conferences, it was that he despised old money.
or, simply put, the kind of people hyunjin liked to fuck around in the head with was changbin.
"do you have to talk to him?" you asked, scooting closer to his side and taking your eyes off the blond-haired man.
"i would look petty if i talk to everyone but him," he muttered back, leaning toward you without tearing his eyes away from the man. "i just... i was hoping we can have a one-on-one conversation instead. that way i can be a piece of shit without any witnesses."
"huh..." you frowned, not understanding the logic going in his head.
it wasn't like everyone was sweet and polite in here, especially not hyunjin, out of all people. why not be blatantly rude as well if it was to return to favor? this wasn't an 'employee and customer' situation, like in the coffee shop you worked in where you always had to blame yourself for the customer's wrongdoings.
changbin is a rich, powerful man. he shouldn't have to be forced to take the heat in if he doesn't want to.
"if you're thinking i can do whatever i want just because i'm rich, you're... well, you are partially correct," changbin hummed, shifting his weight to the side. "but not in this situation."
"really?" you crossed your arms, your naked breasts pushed up with the action and luring his eyes to cast down, but he kept his gaze at your face, amusement lingering at your curious expression. "care to enlighten me about it?"
"hmm..." he pursed his lips, pretending to contemplate before he shrugged. "i will, if you will talk to me about your artsy things."
"why do you want to know what i'm learning!" you asked, happily exasperated as you took a small step back, laughing.
"what? i'm super curious!" he exclaimed incredulously, a smirk growing on his lips. "i see those paintings on your lecture slides all the time but i have no idea what those are!"
"would it make you happy if i tell you about it?" you asked then, having calmed down lots after learning that he has been paying attention to what you do on the dining table in his apartment. "it might be a little abstract for a businessman like you."
"abstract? baby, please, you underestimate me," he cooed, pinching your cheek playfully before his hand soothed out over your face, gripping your jaw. he smiled, fondly. "come on, give me a kiss before i have to talk to blond boy over there."
"boy? he's an adult," you laughed, and instead of letting him reply, you leaned in to press your lips against his.
changbin smiled, the words falling off his tongue upon the taste of your sweet lips.
it has taken him a while to be kissed by you. you were such a shy girl; when he so much as suggested the idea of it during his offer to become your sugar daddy, your face immediately flushed red, and he had been reluctant to talk to you about the more... sexual aspect of the contract.
but you had grown to be more comfortable around him now. kissing him hasn't come naturally yet, but you were willing to do so when he asked for one, whether it was around the apartment or in public places.
he could still remember the first time you pressed your lips against him—it was like he became a high school boy again, all giddy and excited on the inside but having to act calm and confident on the outside.
but you could tell he was satisfied with it as he had impulsively bought you an array of art supplies the next day. he didn't know what you wanted, so he went ahead and got whatever he heard was good. and now you've probably got semesters' worth of paint stacked in your dorm room.
"ah, well, i am still years older than him," changbin said after pulling away, his hands settled on your waist despite the public eye. "which i reckon you have a thing for."
"what? older man?" you joked, giggling with your hands flat against his broad chest. "hmm, maybe just you."
christ—where did that confidence come from? the giggling, the hands, and the words. you were driving him nuts, alright! was it the clothes, or even the atmosphere of this extravagant setting? ugh, either way, he loved it! he loved seeing you all giggly for him.
"you're gonna make me melt, baby," changbin whined under his breath, causing you to laugh a little louder.
"thank you, it's what i aspire to do in life," you commented, patting his chest in comfort before your hands roamed up to his collar. you carefully tightened his tie, keeping the warm smile on his face. "do you want me to join your conversation with mr. blond boy?"
he hummed, his eyes squinted as if he had to think, which he didn't. he knew he wouldn't want you in any part of his work, not even the casual chatters of it. besides, having hyunjin stand within your vicinity might not be the best idea for him. after all, no matter what, hyunjin was still a young, youthful, and wealthy man. and he likely knew a thing or two about snatching unavailable women.
not that changbin didn't trust you. but you two haven't gotten far in terms of a relationship yet, and it wasn't like you were already taken by him. he was your sugar daddy. you were stuck in a situation where you could always leave for a better option, and hyunjin might just be the better option for you, he was afraid.
"definitely not. you can join the snacks table at the side until i come to find you, and no flirting with anyone unless you're trying to talk me up, okay?" he said, sternly but with a hint of mischief. his eyes cast to the side, and his brows furrowed for a brief moment before he turned back to you. "and kiss me again, because i think the blond boy is ogling you."
he had no idea how he kept his voice so calm. hyunjin was blatantly staring at the curve of your hips wrapped in the tight, silk dress. whatever was going on in his mind, it wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure out after seeing the smirk that arrived at his face.
oh, how changbin wanted to hide you from his sight. what dilemma—he both wanted to shield you and show you off. as if you were an art piece in a museum. and you most definitely were one in his eyes, one that he could auction his life for and still be unworthy for.
"really? this dress is doing more numbers on people than i expected," you said before leaning in, sealing your lips in a sweet kiss.
changbin laughed at your comment.
no way, it was definitely your face that was doing numbers on people. the dress simply accentuated the effect.
"okay," he nodded, "time to go to hell."
"good luck, binnie," you cheered quietly, waving your hand as he left your side, his rough hand slipping away from yours until he was too far out of reach.
you watched him approach the group of people, your eyes lingering on his back before they shifted up to meet eyes with hyunjin. your heart shuddered when you found him staring straight back at you, intrigued and curious, and you found no trouble in tearing your gaze away.
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changbin paced around in his room, agitated from the commotion he just caused in the business party he impulsively left.
it wasn't so much about the way others would perceive him after tonight's unfortunate event. he had faith that everyone in the room knew much about hyunjin's tendency to step on nerves, and that he wouldn't be the irrational type simply because of one mishap. especially not when it was made very blatant that hyunjin was, once again, going after a 'taken' woman.
what changbin was concerned about was the fact that his actions tonight spoke millions of words he has been trying to suppress for months. the fact that you saw how protective he was of you when he saw your uncomfortable expression, how angry he got when hyunjin so much as looked at you the wrong way, how hard he had shoved the young boy when his fingers brushed past your waist.
those were all obvious tell-tale signs that he might just care about you over the extent of just being your sugar daddy. and he was panicking because he had no idea how you would react if you pieced it all together that he has fallen quite hard for you. not just as a sugar baby, not just someone who provided him company because he was a lonely, rich man.
he has fallen for you as yourself, as an equal partner, as a close friend. everything about you he adored—your passion for art, your shy personality, your bad jokes on dates, and your unforgettable gratitude toward all the money he could never wait to spend on you.
changbin almost wanted to laugh. he has probably heard you say 'thank you' more than he has ever heard you say anything else.
he loved you, every aspect of you, and he didn't know how to deal with it aside from hiding the truth.
"hey..."
your meek voice paused him in his tracks. he turned to look at you, his glare harsh until he saw you move away from the half-opened door. you were drowned in one of his white dress shirts, the sleeves going over your palms and the hem overflowing to your upper-thigh. you wore nothing else but undergarments, he knew, because you knew he liked it that way.
he won't see what's underneath, but he liked the idea of it, and it was good for him that you were willing to wear so little in front of him despite your initial awkwardness.
christ, you knew him too well, and you were far too considerate. even at a time like this, you remembered to do something that would lift his sour mood. and many other times, whenever he was upset or stressed or frustrated, you always knew to put down your task at hand and console him with your lips all over his face.
what has he ever done to deserve that?
"hey," he muttered, looking away with a defeated sigh.
you frowned, deducting that he must have been very ill-affected by the previous incident. that simply made you feel even more guilty than before. you were so sure you have got the situation under control, but it wasn't every day that a rich, handsome, young man comes advancing toward you like hyunjin did. you were caught off-guard, and the next thing you knew he has your small waist squeezed in his hand.
it wasn't your fault that changbin had to jump in, but you sure felt like it was so. and now he was suffering from what he did.
"are you upset...?" you asked softly after approaching him. you stood before him, head up and eyes round as you looked at him.
he gave himself a moment to soak you in, letting the sight of your face consume him. then he sighed, his hand reaching up to caress the side of your head, an act much too gentle to be casual. "yes, but not with you, baby."
leaning against his hand, you gave him a short melancholic glance before you carefully walked closer to him with your arms held up. they went around his neck, pulling him into a genuine hug where you buried your face to his shoulder and spoke with a muffled voice.
"i'm sorry. thank you for standing up for me back there, even though it risked damaging your image."
you had a thought about it when you were alone in the guest room of his apartment. it has partly become your room if you could say so yourself. living in the dorm alone could not compare to having someone's presence around when you were about to fall asleep, and changbin always stayed up late enough for you to sense him until you drop into slumber.
but you were thinking, as you changed out of the silk dress and put on something you fished out of the closet in the room, about everything that went down tonight and how it had made you feel.
for sure, you had a sense of guilt because what changbin did was definitely going to be deemed as unprofessional in others' eyes. but a part of you was quite giddy and warmed that he cared enough to step between you and hyunjin. 
and it wasn't out of possessiveness; not because he didn't like to share you, or because you were strictly his to touch. simply because you obviously looked uncomfortable, because he saw that you didn't like the proximity hyunjin closed on you both, and he was annoyed that the boy didn't choose to respect your boundaries.
not for you to applaud a man for doing the bare minimum, but in the face of someone who didn't even meet the bare minimum line, changbin sure was attractive in that fleeting moment. not to mention, your heart was already wavering for him anyway. rather than making you fall in love, the act merely magnified your feelings.
"of course," changbin said, patting his hand against your head. "no one should ever touch you when you don't want them to, okay? and it's not your fault when they do."
you nodded, a hum of agreement going directly to the fabric of his shirt before you slowly moved away from the safe spot where you laid on your head on. your eyes searched for his face then, your affection for him hinted all too obviously on your face. and when your hand moved away from the back of his neck to his jaw, you couldn't wait for a second more to kiss him on the mouth.
changbin reciprocated immediately, his eyes shut tight as he melted into the sweet taste. the hand that went around your back shifted to your waist, holding you securely as he brought you forward to him, your breasts pushing against his chest more prominently than before.
your mouths moved together perfectly, sparking up a sensational heat within your chest that even the sun couldn't rival. it wasn't the first time you two have kissed with such passion lingering in your movements, sometimes just a casual make-out session would go for long because neither of you knew how to stop, but you could never bring yourself to get enough of him.
unconsciously pushing him backward, changbin continued to stumble upon the strength you added when you leaned your weight on him for more. when could feel the back of his legs touch the back of his desk chair, he moved a hand over to turn it around so he could slump down on the seat.
you chased after him, your torso leaning down to catch his lips as your legs moved to climb on top of his lap. your knees met at the side of his hips and his hands circled your small waist, holding you in your place carefully as you kissed him without a care.
changbin's heart was thumping quickly. mostly from the fervent way you were sucking on his lips, making him feel swollen and red. you always felt so eager, making his lonely heart feel appreciated and wanted. it was times like this, or just any moment he spent with you, when he was able to stop self-isolating.
but the more overwhelming feeling laid beneath his body. the fact that he could trace the curve of your bare skin underneath his thin shirt, and your lower body sat weighted closely against his erection was making his heart wage war against his conscience.
all he could think about was how much he wanted to go further than just making out with you. he wanted to touch you, intimately; he wanted his lips all over your beautiful, scorching body; he wanted to make you feel good, really good.
lord, he wants to fuck you so bad. he wants to fuck you so, so, so damn bad.
"oh, there is something i want to show you. don't make fun of me, okay?" you giggled after pulling away, your hands fumbling with the button of his shirt as a blush crept up your cheeks.
you began to slowly pop open the buttons, revealing more and more of your naked body until you finally shrugged the shirt off your shoulders, pulling the hem behind you to reveal the set of lacy lingerie you wore underneath.
lord have mercy on his soul—what was happening? the first time you found the set in a box shoved in his closet, you had thought they were art supplies he got you again, only to be dumbfounded to see undergarments that probably cost you your year's worth of paycheck at the coffee shop.
"i thought it might make you happy since you seemed like you wanted to see me in it the time i found it in your closet," you muttered, fiddling with your fingers as you looked at him through your lashes. "oh, wait! don't–don't stare at me like that! i feel like you're judging me!"
changbin shook his head, still in complete awe but he found it in himself to snap out of it.
he had bought that without the intention of asking you to present yourself in it, he simply got it because (a) he has the money, therefore why not? and (b) he thought you would look amazing in it, which you have proved him right, you do look spectacularly enticing in the set of lacy lingerie.
your perky breasts sat prettily under the floral-patterned pads, the roundness pushed up perfectly with the tightness of the bra. the black, lace garter belt cinched in your waist and draped over your panties, little ribbons handing around the hem of the clips.
and, of course, his dress-shirt falling off your dainty shoulders, adding a hint of adorable innocence in the face of absolute sex.
he held your waist, his calloused hand quite a contrast to the softness of your skin, and he eyed you up and down before taking a deep breath. you were both exposed and not entirely naked, your barely visible body urging him to just tear the lingerie off of you so he could worship your body right then and there, so he could finally let loose and fuck you senseless.
control. he let out a shivered breath. self-control.
"do... do you like it...?" you asked meekly then, fully meeting his eyes with small and shy gestures hanging off your hands.
"oh god, baby, please," he replied. "of course i do, you look stunning."
you smiled, beaming in relief, and you leaned forward to shut his eyes with an excited kiss. changbin moaned a little at the force, feeling your hip rub against his clothed member when you pushed toward him.
he figured it was just a mistake, perhaps you were as shocked at the friction as he was. but instead of pulling away, all you did was continue to grind down on him, trying to meet his arousal out of rather needy attempts.
oh, he couldn't do this. too much, too much. he has to get inside you, he couldn't even think.
"oh, actually–wait, hey."
snapping his eyes open, changbin gently pushed you away from his neck when he realized you planned to move even further down, your lips planting kisses so calculatingly he almost got lost in them. he swore he thought his heart would rip him apart and jump out right there.
you looked at him, bewildered. "what...?"
he stared at you, unsure. if you wanted to go further, he surely would comply with you. lord knows how long his cock has been aching for your permission. but if this decision was made out of the fleeting guilt you felt because of what happened tonight, he didn't want it. he wouldn't want your first time to be out of the need to provide compensation, he needed it to be special for you, and he was well-prepared for the person to never be him.
"hey, look at me," he pressed his palms to your cheeks, "i know how you are about sex, and i know you feel like you don't give me enough because you won't go to bed with me when i–uh, when i obviously wanted to."
you furrowed your brows, your eyes rounding innocently at him as he squeezed your cheeks together.
"i'm sorry if i have ever pressured you into feeling like you have to. you absolutely do not have to do anything of that sort for me, okay? your first time should be with somebody you love." he rubbed your cheeks, pressing his forehead against yours with a faint smile. "i will be just as entertained if you want to sit here and tell me all about frida kahlo."
you watched him, unblinking and unmoving.
one of your favorite artists. you never even mentioned it but she was all over your room. he must have noticed.
see, this is the kind of man he is. you have seen him through and through.
starting from the unbelievable tip of a hundred dollars he left you at the coffee shop, to your awkward first date at an expensive restaurant where you used his hundred dollars to pay for the meal, to the first time he held you in his arms because you got overwhelmed by his support of you choosing art as a career path, to the millions of times he has ensured you that you could just stand around in his apartment and he'd be happy to just feel your presence,
he has only been gentle and considerate, generous and patient—so, so patient—with you. and you could see him, thoroughly, not just as somebody who paid for your tuition and brought you to pretty places.
changbin was someone who kissed you goodnight after a nightmare, who took time out of his work to visit your university art exhibition, who was willing to sit through a ramble of things he couldn't care less about, because he loves you.
changbin was someone who loves you, and you loved him with just as much soul you could give.
"who said i wasn't trying to do it with someone i love...?" you whispered, looking into his eyes as your hands moved up to cup over his own. "who says you aren't the person i love?"
changbin took in your words. wavering strongly was his beating heart, uncertain and hoping that you meant what you said.
you sealed his confusion with another kiss—a much tentative one; careful, slow, and confessing. you were imprinting your affection for him with your lips, leaving a mark in his mouth he could never forget.
and there was only one thing in your mind when you brought his hands away from your face, your head moving lower to his neck, and his collarbones, until finally your feet touched the ground and you were kissing him through his clothes until you knelt at the floor between his legs: you were to make changbin feel good, you were to give him all the love you could offer, to both his heart and his body.
changbin stopped breathing at the sight of you kneeling before him, your hands slowly caressing up his inner thighs until they met at his belt. the permanent pout on your face as you undo his belt made him go batshit crazy imagining how those pretty little lips could wrap around his cock.
you popped the button open and unzipped the fly, not bothering to slide his pants down as your fingers tugged at the waist of his boxers, pulling it low enough for his cock to spring out from underneath. you flinched, startled, and your eyes widened in surprise at his size. it was only how you remember you have never actually sucked anyone off before, and neither have you watched a lot of people do it.
oh hell, you would have to wing this.
suppressing the urge to laugh, you let the curiosity overwhelm you and, finally, moved your hands up to wrap themselves around his thick shaft. he sucked in a breath, the warmth of your hands engulfing him as you slowly pumped up and down. your movement irregular but solid, your palm squeezing around his tip whenever they meet, adding pressure to his nerves and causing pre-cum to leak from his tip quicker than he thought.
your hands got sticky really quickly, the whiteness coating between your fingers as you continued to pump his cock until you saw that his tip of red and protruding. bringing yourself closer to him, then you brought your face toward the tip and, before you put your lips on him, you looked up to catch his eyes.
changbin's head rattled at your gaze—so naive-looking yet so affecting. you held more control in this situation, in every situation, even though you were always the more shrunken one.
"may i?" you asked, your breath hitting his angry tip.
he hummed, groaning at the welcoming sensation, and he nodded. "yes, baby, please."
the gate in his chest opened when you finally put him in your mouth, releasing him of his suffocation and all the hidden stress he never let out. your gentle lips sucked on his tip, your tongue licking across his slit to taste the bitter pre-cum, and the whine you let out in distaste gave him shivers.
throwing your mind off the liquid on your tongue, you pushed yourself further down, taking more of him in you as you suck your cheeks carefully, hoping it was enough stimulation for him. whatever you were doing, it was all from hearing people talk about it and mirroring the little of what you've seen, and you could only hope that it was good enough for him.
and it was. it was so, so good, you wouldn't have any idea. your mouth felt so warm and soft and wet around him, your teeth just barely grazing against his skin, and your tongue flat against his visible veins. not to mention the occasional look of uncertainty you would flash him, your pretty eyes wide with your mouth stuffed full of his shaft as you asked him for approval.
he could only give them in grunts and moans. the stimulation was too magnificent, he was at a complete loss for words that he got the privilege of feeling you suck him off.
"ah... ahh, fuck–" he threw his head back, the back of his neck leaned against the soft cushioned headrest. when you hummed around him, acknowledging the pleasure he was feeling, he immediately hissed upon the vibration. "fuck, keep–keep going–ahh..."
you bobbed your head irregularly, your inner-cheeks hallowing to touch his shaft and to given him suction. your tongue continued to flick on his skin, adding a gentle sensation to the overall wetness. it felt weird to have something stuck between your teeth, but hearing the grunts above was nothing more than satisfying to you.
a short gurgle escaped the gaps of your lips when you suddenly went beyond the length you were already taking, letting his cock reach further into your mouth and stopping when his tip brushed against your throat. changbin let out a louder moan then, the softness of your uvula poked by his tip and making his mind shatter.
"shit, baby, ugh!" he groaned, his hand flying to your hair and grabbing a fistful of it. he tugged at your scalp, unable to control his movement when his dick was engulfed by the warmth of your mouth.
you pulled away after a quick second of deep-throating him, but you didn't let yourself pop away for air. instead, your lips sucked at the skin of his tip when you reached dangerously up, and before you continued by taking him in your mouth and bobbing your head along his shaft again, you let the droll hanging by the tip of your tongue roll out the mouth.
the wetness dripped down his cock, a feeling changbin never knew he would take such notice of, but he has grown as an obsession for you that he'd memorized the feeling of your saliva on his skin. and he certainly would have this moment memorized as well—your mouth taking most of him while your hands stroked where your mouth couldn't reach, and your eyes getting all wide and teary whenever your nose hit the base.
he was bucking his hip into you soon, wanting to go at a pace he liked. his hands spread across your head, pulling your hair out of your face while semi holding you in place, but still giving you the freedom to move as much as he could. he knew he wasn't going to last much longer, the tension in his abdomen was building him up to an eventual release he wasn't sure if he was to empty himself in your mouth yet.
you could sense his silent impatience. anytime you were to pull your lips to the tip, he would thrust his hip up to your face, wanting you to take him back in. and each time, after you quickly swirled your tongue around his soft tip, you'd listen to his pleas and take him in your mouth again. it was all rinse and repeat—suck and lick, up and down. until his grip on your hair tightened with a hoarse groan, and you felt immobilized under his hands.
changbin squeezed his eyes shut at the feeling, his head thrown back slightly as he lightly thrusted into your mouth to chase after his release. his cock pulsated, his skin moving as he shot his hot cum into your mouth with an uncontrollable moan.
you coughed at the taste, finding them unpleasant to swallow. when he finally pulled out of you, you coughed, and his cum trailed out with your saliva, dripping down your chin alluringly as you looked up at changbin as an instinctive response.
his chest heaved as his eyes flashed with a sex-crazed affection. he couldn't even care whether you swallowed all of him or not. the view of your lower face covered with white wetness—his cum—was so devastatingly sexy. and the way they dripped and rolled down your breast made him insides twitch.
he felt like he got a recharge, and he could go on and on, he could stay inside you for the entire night.
changbin moved his hand up from the nape of your neck, caressing the side of your head with a much gentler approach, almost in a praising effort. he smiled at you, endeared. "such a good girl... such a good girl for me."
you held down a beam, but the quirk at your lips still flashed shyly upon his praise. changbin watched you with care, his eyes hazing out as his lids dropped in a tender manner. you have always been such a sight for sore eyes, he knew, but he had no idea he could love looking at someone so much—just looking and nothing else. no hands, no words, just the eyes and the glorious view of you.
and it was enough for him, it really was.
you turned your head to kiss his palm after a moment of silence. and your body swayed for a bit, side to side, until your head laid itself on his inner thigh. you looked up at him, your eyes yearning as you glanced between his face and his glistening cock. the pout on your face, and the slow gliding of your hands, were suggesting something, something big.
he shivered out an exhale, anticipating what you had in mind.
standing up slowly, you returned to your previous position where you straddled him on the chair. changbin helped you navigate around, keeping you ground on his lap as you found a better position. you kissed him in the meanwhile, your hips moving awkwardly as your lips kept the weak man occupied. until you could finally grind down on his length, you kept his busy with the swipes of your tongue.
changbin gasped when he felt the shape of your heat against his shaft, rubbing for friction and warmth, asking to be pounded and abused. he pulled away, his eyes wide at your pink cheeks, and you could only hug him closer by the neck, a slight grin escaping your lips.
"i can keep going..." you said, laying your head on his shoulder and burying your face to his neck as you ground against his abdomen. a moan left your lips, high and whiny, and you begged. "i want to be fucked, daddy, please."
woah. where the hell did you learn to say something like that? not that he didn't enjoy it, he was just very shocked to hear such words leave with your sweet voice attached to them! and also very, very turned on. unexplainably turned on.
"did you just call me daddy?" he muttered out, pushing your away so he could see your face.
you pursed your lips and nodded. you never knew the term could be used in a bedroom before. albeit you found it quite fascinating at first, but after digging a little deeper into it, you started wondering if changbin would be one to enjoy the use of that title. it was a slip of the tongue, you didn’t plan to say it, but judging by the look on his face, he didn’t seem to oppose it either.
“yes… daddy."
he could only laugh.
big mistake.
you yelped when he stood up, his hands clenching your waist to hoist you up with him. he reached one hand over this desk, impatiently swiping the papers and books off the floor so he could sit you tight on the surface. he pushed your back against the table, his chest pressed against yours and his hands on both your waist and your arm, holding you down.
you couldn't find a trace of softness in his eyes now. they have gone dark and lidded, the way you have never seen him look at you before. his hand snuck through your body, trailing along your torso and meeting at your neck. his hand fit around the bone perfectly, giving you just a good enough squeeze to make you gasp.
"now where the fuck did you learn that, baby girl?" he whispered close to your jaw, a smile on his face.
you wanted to answer, but his hand was dancing down your body, quickly and energetically, and your mind simply vanished when it met at the hem of your lace pantie. changbin watched you carefully, with a hint of anticipation, as he slipped the tip of his fingers beneath the soft fabric. you pursed your lips, heart beating excitedly as his hand inched further and further down until his hand was cupping your pussy.
his curled his middle finger, making the tip trail along your wetting slit and dipping into your hole just slightly out of tease. your hand flew up to grab his arm, your eyes rolling down to stare at him; you weren’t stopping him, but you always couldn’t do anything but wait for his next move, so you just looked ahead, unmoving.
“ever been fingered before?” changbin asked suddenly, his cheek leaning against your covered breast as his fingers teased your entrance. 
“n–no.” 
“not even by yourself?” 
“just once–“ you gasped at the stretched out feeling when he slowly slid his middle finger inside. your legs trembled at the sudden intrusion, surprised, but changbin made sure to keep them open by pushing himself between your legs. 
this was not a new feeling—well, not new per se. you have fingered yourself once before, out of plain curiosity after changbin suggested the idea of sex to you when you two were discussing your give-and-take  relationship. but you could barely get past the first several shoves of your fingers before you had to pull yourself out and wash away the filth sticking to your hands. 
you had been too shy to do it yourself, and thus never once felt the true pleasure of having your walls rubbed with the delicacy of the human hands. therefore, when changbin began to pump his middle finger in and out of your wet heat, you could barely contain the shocked whimpers he was eliciting out of you. and the quicker they did it, the more he began to stretch you out with the insert of his fourth finger, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit, the more you shivered at his touch.
he laughed to himself at the way you gasped when he spread his two fingers inside you, stretching you out and gathering your juices on his skin. he was getting you prepped and ready for his cock, making sure you were all wet and slippery before he could safely slide himself inside you. yet, even though it was still just simple foreplay, you managed to give him such lovely reactions. 
“you feeling okay, hmm?” leaning up to your face, he asked in a huff before kissing your lips, muffing your incoming moans as he sped up the pace of his hands.
the squelching sounds became more audible from beneath your hips, making your ears perk up when you realized how wet you have become. changbin smirked at your expression, so hopeless and weak, and he asked, “daddy’s making you feel good, isn’t he?”
you nodded, focusing on the way his fingers moved in your, thrusting against your walls and adding pressure to your weak spots. "yes–yes... daddy is making–ahh!"
he placed a hand in your hip, forcing you down when your body jolted from the sudden head-rush of an approaching orgasm. he watched your face scrunch up, moans leaving your lips in splits and ragged breaths, and all he could feel was satisfaction. for how long has he yearned for this sight? for how long has his mind been infiltrated with the imaginary image of your naked body?
it was all under his fingertips now, everything about you.
he could feel your release approaching with the tightening of your walls, and that excited him, but instead of bringing you over the edge, he paused his movements and pulled out of you instead.
you went down from your almost high, your eyes snapping open at the ceiling and your head lowering to look at changbin. his fingers glistened with your essence, causing everything you wanted to say to him to fly out of your head. you watched him, wondering what he was planning to do with it as he raised it to face level.
"sorry about that. i promise all i want to do tonight is to make you cum," he said, bringing you closer to the edge of his desk with one hand harsh against the lower side of your ass. "but if you're gonna do that, i'd rather you do it around my cock."
your faces were close once again, but instead of kissing you like you thought he would do, he moved his hand up to your face and tapped your bottom lip with his wet fingers. you reluctantly parted your mouth for him, and he slowly slipped his fingers between, reaching in for your tongue and resting his fingers there.
"suck, baby girl," he demanded softly.
you listened to him, your lips wrapping around his fingers and you began to lightly suck on them. you hollowed your cheeks, tasting yourself on him as you let out tiny, silky moans between the action. changbin gave himself a second to watch your blissful face, the rounding of your lips a replica of when you had them wrapped around his cock.
his arousal twitched, horny and impatient. taking notice of it, he finally broke away from looking at you and stood forward. his hand left your ass to move to your lace pantie, and after giving the hem a few gentle tugs, he grabbed a firm hold of the weak fabric and tore it down in a swift motion. it broke at the side, the coverage dropping off your body and the front half of it falling off the edge of the table.
changbin looked down at your naked cunt, his eyes flashing with red lust immediately. leaving the broke undergarment underneath you, he moved his hand down to his cock where he pumped his length a few times before he positioned at your entrance without any notice.
when you felt his tip against your hole, you gave his fingers an abrupt suck, surprise ridding your body. changbin gently pulled his hand out of your mouth then, his face getting much closer to yours where he could judge his nose against yours gently.
he kissed the corner of your mouth, his dry thumb stroking your jaw. "are you sure you want to do this?" was all that he asked.
you scrunched your nose up into a smile, bumping your forehead against his when you nodded in agreement. "yes."
"okay," he took a deep breath, "this is going to hurt, so tell me to stop if it's too much."
you grinned, laughing your playful laugh that he adored. "yes, daddy."
he smirked—adorable. just when he thought he couldn't love you more. "good girl."
with that said, he carefully laid you on your back, pushing away anything that could be in the way before he moved down to you just for the sake of keeping you close to him. and he slowly and surely tried to ease himself into you.
you felt the tremor from your chest increase when your hole greeted his cock, finding the stretch unfamiliar and uncomfortable due to his astonishing size. your grip on his clothed arms tightened as he moved, pushing himself further inside you with suppressed groans of pleasure.
he thought he could control himself and wait, but you have proven to him time and time again that his self-control may not be as good as he coined it to be. especially now, when your tight walls suffocated his cock with such delicious pressure, he couldn't help but let his mind wander to a territory where he abandoned his sanity and allow himself to fuck you immediately solely to satisfy himself.
oh, but he could never do that. he could never prioritize himself over you. everything he does was for you now, from the workplace to the bedroom, everything has to cater to you now.
"are you okay? does it hurt?" he asked after he has himself stuffed inside you. placing his hand on your cheek, he hovered closely over your face and smooched your eyes. "are you feeling okay, baby?"
"yeah, it just–" you laughed, moving your head to shake off the breathlessness. as painful as it had been, the stretch was fascinating to feel, and it felt strangely good to be so full. "it hurts a little but i'm fine, you can keep going."
changbin moved slowly from the start, wanting nothing more than for you to adjust to him. he knew that if you wanted more, you would ask for it, and there would be tell-tale signs from your face and your actions that tell him exactly what you wanted. it hasn't been a terrible lot of such intimacy happening between you both—actually, this was the first time, but he has got you down at the back of his palm, from the scrunch of your face to the hiss from your throat.
changbin has got you memorized, like everything else he has ever cared about, like your paintings and your coffees. and being inside you now, hearing as your discreet pants slowly turn into loud, euphoric moans, feeling as his cock rub sensually along your walls to scratch up a heat that could never rival that of his affection, he knew he loved you.
he has learned to love you, just as you have learned to love him. and he wanted to continue to do so for as long as you allow him, he would be ready to do that whenever you are.
your hands began to fumble around his body, unsure of their duty and therefore aiming for the one thing you wanted the most. your fingers worked clumsily, popping the buttons of his shirt one by one, two by two, until most of his chest was exposed. you let out a giddy laugh when you could see the traces of his pecs and the smooth skin of his tummy, feeling rather drunk on the pleasure and more so on fascination.
"you have a little tummy, bin, haha!"
he looked down, not realizing you had opened his buttons. when he looked back up at you, there was laughter on his face and he reached up to pinch your cheek as he bit lower lip in embarrassment. "when did you do that, hmm?"
"like... a second ago...?" you replied, "but awe, that's very cute. i'm gonna kiss your tummy later."
and you would blow raspberries on his skin, and he would laugh, and you two would just be on the bed as any other lovers would.
changbin felt more than just adored at this point. growing up focusing on his father's business and expanding his studies to keep up with his father's expectations, even though he has always been a friendly one, he was never able to gain the romantic life he always longed for. the people he likes either don't like him for who he is, or he doesn't have feelings for those who do.
you were a miracle. you were his miracle. how did you land on his hands so delicately?
he kissed you when he decided to pick up his previously slower speed. the spur of sudden endearment made him want to give it all to you, and he wanted nothing more than to feel you quiver around him in a haze. moving his lips down your neck to give you space for your sweet noises, his hands moved to fumble with your bra, slipping them off below your ribs and exposing your round breasts to him.
you moved your legs with a jolt when he wordlessly began planting bruises across your breasts, but something told you he was beginning to a deeper part of you and spreading such electrifying flow across your body.
the scrape of his teeth was a frighteningly joyful sensation, the thought of him sucking hickeys in your chest for both of your to see also was a newfound thrill you never thought you'd enjoy.
everything he was doing brought you over the moon and back. his strong thrusts built up tension at your abdomen, and his kisses adding to the pleasure you were already feeling from his cock hitting against your sweet spot. your moans became shameless, your hands longed for more to touch, and your words were bold as you asked him for more, more, and more.
"oh god, changbin–changbin, right there," you squeezed his arms, "please, more, give me more."
your feminine, sultry voice made his head swoon, and he could do not anything else but to oblige you. he couldn't even bring it in himself to care about the sudden loss of his bedroom title, his name sounded awfully lovely in your voice.
a curse flew past your lips when he placed his elbow next to your head, his body leaning down for leverage so he could better utilize his lower body. he snapped his hips into yours, listening to your pleads and increasing his pace as you asked. you moaned and moaned against his ears, and your body hugged him tightly to you, making him feel engulfed and warm.
"bin, bin, i feel close–ahh!" you patted his shoulder, your breasts moving against his chest.
"good," he hummed, holding your hands down to your side as an instinctive response. "cum around me when you want to, just let go."
the taste of your skin etched against his lips as he kissed your neck during the last of your endurance. his pounded into you, his strength immeasurable along with the tightening of your walls, and you were falling apart in seconds.
changbin groaned, his eyes rolling up when you pulsated around him. the euphoric scream of his name went straight into his head, repeating and repeating itself to get him off. he snapped his hips into yours, feeling his own high approaching as your walls continue to tighten down on him as the aftermath of your first orgasm.
"oh, fuck–" he cursed, feeling a ting on his tip so he pulled out immediately.
your cum slipped out at the action, a watery noise accompanying the slip of your cum trailing out your pussy. you watched as he pumped himself, his length glimmering with your filthy essence and staining his hands once again. knowing what he wanted to do, you quickly sat up and gently pushed him a step back.
changbin looked at you as you got down on your knees in front of him, your hands replacing his own to rub along his length for him. your hands were slippery as you watched him with wide, blazing eyes. and, the more he breathed with heavy exhales, you finally picked your time to reach up to take him in your mouth again, the bitter taste of yourself more permanent this time as you had just came around him.
he cursed out loud at and tilted his head sideways at the feeling of your warm mouth around his cock, his hands meeting at the back of your head while he slowly rocked his hip into your mouth. you focused on his tip, swiping your tongue along his slit and hallowing your cheeks around the sensitive bud. it didn't take long before he emptied himself in your mouth again, his cock going limp against your tongue as you swallowed around his tip.
you pulled away with a pop, a saliva string stretching between your mouth and his tip, only disappearing when you wiped your mouth to clean yourself up.
changbin slumped against his chair then, exhausted from the high he felt. his eyes moved to your knelt form, and he softened. opening his arms, he nudged his head toward you and said, "come here, baby."
you stood up, feeling the faint soreness between your legs but continuing to walk toward him anyway. he pulled you to his lap when you were close enough, your legs straddling his hips once again, but this time without the arousal interrupting the moment despite your bare skin touching.
you laid your cheek on his shoulder, with your face turned toward his neck and your arms around his waist. changbin stroked your hair despite the drying wetness on his hand, his eyes hazy as he stared ahead of him.
"you did so well, baby," he praised after a moment, "thank you for letting me be your first."
you smiled, shaking your head slightly. "i should thank you for taking care of me, just then and for so long."
"you don't have to," he mumbled, tilting his head so he leaned against you. "i wanted to do that."
you pursed your lips to let out a hoarse hum. the sleepiness was taking over you slowly, and despite your burning desire to talk more, you could fight the urge to fall asleep against his chest and his protective arms. therefore, rubbing your cheek on his shoulder, you looked up and mumbled, "i want to sleep."
"oh?" he chuckled. "are you sure you don't want to take a shower first? i can run you a bath."
"sleep first," you yawned, adjusting your position before fully letting yourself slump against his figure.
he caught you in his strong arms by wrapping them around your small figure. his chest heaved along with yours, feeling your breath in silence with him, and he gave you a very tiny nod in agreement.
"okay," he said, caressing your arms. "rest well, baby."
and he would be here when you wake up.
641 notes · View notes
dawn8080 · 3 years
Note
How about an MC who doesn't like telling people it's their bday because they don't like big parties or people making a fuss over it, and the brothers come to know it's their bday on the day itself? (Obey me Headcannon please :3)
MC who hates celebrating their birthday
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(Big thanks to @obey-me-rules-my-life-now for the request!)
MC has never been one to celebrate their birthday. Parties were big celebrations, and big celebrations meant people in masses. So, to avoid having to face a party, embarrassment and disappointment, they told no one. They never brought up the topic and when a brother did, they shut it down. All too soon, the dreaded day approached. How will each brother react?
Lucifer:
He knew when MC’s birthday was. He read their file after all. But when MC never mentioned their birthday, the thought faded from his mind.
Lucifer could tell something was off; MC was being snappy and moody to everyone, including himself.
MC was extra snappy after yet another failed plan of making money that they were dragged into and wanted to be left alone in their room. However, Lucifer knew to address their snappiness and moodiness.
When Lucifer knocked on MC’s door, it was met with a grumpy “Go away”
Lucifer growled under his breath, “MC, we need to discuss your recent behavior.”
“There’s no reason. Now leave me alone.”
Knowing that MC wasn’t willing to tell him, he went back into his office, to do more paperwork.
After hours of working on paperwork, he took a moments break to look at his DDD, lighting up with notifications.
Diavolo: So Lucifer, how was today? Good, I’ll suppose?
Lucifer: What’s makes you say that?
Barbatos: Have you forgotten?
Lucifer: Forgotten what?
Diavolo: Today is MC’s birthday! Have you forgotten?
Lucifer understood all at once what had happened, and went to confront them about it.
When confronted, MC shrugged their shoulders and said, “So? It’s just another day. It marks another year of my existence. It just makes me feel older.”
Understanding where they were coming from, he sighed and said, “You’re still a guest here in the House of Lamination and as long as your in this exchange program, we are responsible for your safety and comfort. That being said,” as he takes MC hands, “Could I at least interest you in a dinner?”
MC looked calculating for a few seconds before saying “I guess just a dinner would be nice...”
Mammon:
Mammon was never trusted with any of MC’s personal information (understandably so). And he knew he and his brothers could be a bit too much sometimes! So he didn’t really question it when MC started getting a bit grumpier than usual.
It wasn’t until MC came home one day after a failed money making scheme, throwing their book bag at the wall and stomping to their room.
He immediately was concerned and was knocking on their door, begging to be let in. After 30 minuets of being told no, he stayed silent, but outside their door.
Soon, when he heard their shower running, he walked into their room to see what was so wrong.
He didn’t notice anything wierd until he looked at their phone, light up with notifications from their human relatives.
Curiosity got the best of him as he wandered over and read their screen. To say he was shocked is an understatement when he read how many Happy Birthday texts MC received.
MC then entered the room to see Mammon on their phone, which resulted in Mammon getting kicked out of the bedroom.
Mammon stood outside in shock; humans loved their birthdays, so why were they so grumpy? And more importantly, why didn’t the human tell the GREAT Mammon that it was their birthday?!
He went straight to Lucifer, head spinning in confusion.
After barging in and questioning Lucifer, he realized that maybe going through their phone wasn’t the best idea...
...or at least that’s what he realized as he hung from the ceiling in front of Lucifers office again.
MC was walking downtown he hallway when they heard, “Yo! Human! Come give me a hand!”
MC helped him, but then quickly started leaving. Before they could though, Mammon took their hand and said, “Now wait a minuet. Why didn’t you tell me today is you birth-”
MC quickly spun and held their free hand over his mouth to shush him. “Don’t speak of this day to anyone! Or I swear, Goldie will have a friend called Paper Shredder.”
Mammon moved their hand and said, “I already asked Lucifer if he knew. He did, no surprise. But why didn’t you tell me?”
MC then dropped their hands to their sides and said, “I just don’t like my birthday. I don’t like celebrating it.”
Mammon sighed, as if defeated. Then he brightened up again. “How about we just watch movies then?! You don’t need to say it’s a special occasion to watch movies with the GREAT Mammon!”
MC sighed, smiling lightly. “I guess it wouldn’t be weird, huh?” They then smirked suddenly, “Now how about Resident Evil-”
“MC NOO!”
Leviathan:
MC’s grumpiness really caught him off-guard. They were almost never grumpy, yet they’ve been acting this way for an entire week.
He heard the loud clash of a book bag hitting a wall and angry footsteps down the hallway, near his room. He peaked his head out of his room, only to see an angry/grumpy MC storming past him.
Ignoring him completely.
That... didn’t feel right. They always acknowledged him in one way or another.
So, rather than leaving his precious room, he grabbed his phone and started spamming MC questions.
Levi: MC?
Levi: Are you okay?
Levi: Hey, answer the phone!
He quickly realized they weren’t responding although he knew they saw the texts.
He sighed dejectedly. Who would want to talk to a gross, yucky otaku like him anyways?
As he kept wallowing in self-pity, he heard his phone ding with a text. He was reading the text in an instant, hopes falling with it.
MC: I have to cancel game night. Maybe next week?
Levi knew they never rescheduled his game and anime hang out sessions. Concerned, he headed over to their room for answers.
Levi knocked, and realized the door was open. But there was no MC. He glanced around the room and saw their homework on their desk, already completed.
He then sat on the foot of their bed, playing mobile games until MC came back. Where he would confront MC about the birthday.
That’s when he booted up one of the Devildom games that MC loved. Suddenly, it piped up with a notice on his login.
It was his mutuals friends birthday.
He covered his shock and set up a surprise for MC.
40 minuets later, MC came back into their room, only to see Levi sitting in front of his monitor, playing anime, while he was cuddling his Ruri-Chan body pillow.
To say they were surprised was an understatement, but before anything could be said, Levi dragged them down next to him.
“Hey, why couldn’t I know about your birthday?” Levi frowned and asked.
“I... just don’t like celebrating. Is that why you’re here?”
Levi shakes his head and offers a second head set labeled “Player 2” and MC accepts it.
“I just want to watch anime with you tonight. Maybe we can game next week?”
Satan:
Satan could’ve gotten his hands on your background, but he just had that golden opportunity to prank Lucifer too...! He, of course, chose priority.
He knew MC were moody before they did; becoming a master of masks made him very perceptive of others emotions.
He offered help with de-stressing and with homework, thinking that was the issue.
He did not think that his books would eventually be thrown into a wall as MC stormed to their room only days later.
He was furious at the treatment of the books that he lent, and went to confront MC about their behavior towards everyone.
He didn’t expect to hear the tail end of a call MC was having with relatives back home.
“Yes Mom, thank you. I’ll have a good birthday, now bye.” MC hung up the phone, tired out of their mind.
Satan stepped in, knocking on the door lightly. Though still shocked from the news he just received, he knew that he needed to stay silent. For now.
“MC, you threw your books in the doorway. They have been lended to you and you could damage them that way.”
“I’m sorry. I won’t be so careless next time.” MC replied, running a hand down their face in exhaustion.
Satan smiled and said, “You damaged the books I lent you. You could make up for that.”
MC audibly gulped, worried what they had to do.
Satan continued, “You could work in Hells Kitchen tomorrow to replace them? Or, you could stay here and read for a bit, if stress or unwanted events seems to be the issue.”
MC looked up, shocked. Then they smiled. “I prefer option 2 the most. Thank you.”
The two of them then sat side by side, reading books until MC fell asleep.
“Goodnight, MC. Have sweet dreams.”
Asmodeus:
Asmodeus didn’t understand why you were so moody and sassy so suddenly. He, too, figured it was due to stress, so he scheduled a self care night... on your birthday.
He knew the stress should be causing break outs so when he saw the first sign of acne, he practically screamed.
But we all know the gossipy demons habits. The day at RAD had been normal, until the walk home.
MC was walking faster than the others, and was radiating annoyance.
Asmodeus followed you as fast as he could, hoping to do the self care session before homework.
He didn’t expect you to walk so fast either. He was sweating slightly and had to redo his make up.
As he walked into your room, he saw you toss a letter into a nearby trash bin.
He was about to question it as MC said, “It’s nothing, Asmo. It’s fine.”
MC then smiled, letting him do the self care session and offering to do homework with him so it was “less stressing”.
However, as MC left to go get their abandoned books in the main hall, he couldn’t help but peek at the envelope, addressed from MC’a family.
Shock was very evident on Asmo’s face as MC walked in. Knowing what convorsation was to come from the party-loving demon, they shut the door.
“Asmo, I can explain-”
“MC, honey, it’s your birthday?! No one knew!” Asmo sounded distressed and MC awkwardly patted his shoulder.
“It’s fine Asmo. I just don’t like celebrating my birthday. It makes me feel... old.”
Asmo nodded, trying to understand. Some people just didn’t flaunt their age.
Asmo then sighed. “At least let us do something fun for your birthday then. Ooh, you can tell me how old you are!”
“Nope. Never telling my age.”
Asmo deflated like a kicked puppy, only for MC to pipe up.
“Asmo, we could watch silly movies if you want.”
He smiled and hugged MC.
“Thank you, MC. Now, what genre do we watch?”
Beelzebub:
He knew you were upset about something. And it upset him. So while you were moody, Beel was trying to cheer you up.
Did you not eat enough? Were you getting too little sleep? Were you getting to stressed? Poor boy just wanted to help.
Which is why he was carrying a plate of MC’s favorite food to their room, while he munched on his own snacks.
When he got to their room, he realized that they’d locked themself inside. He knocked on the doors and MC opened them minuets later.
Seeing their favorite food, MC instantly smiled.
And then froze.
“Wait, how did you know what today is?”
Beelzebub was confused and tilted his head to the side. “What is today?”
MC realized that he was trying to just be kind.
“Oh, nothing! Uh, thank you for the food.”
Beel wouldn’t let this drop so he followed MC into their room as they carried their food in, munching on his snacks while looking around.
“MC, what is today?”
MC sighed and said “Today is my.... birthday. But I don’t like celebrating it. Makes me feel too old, you know?”
He actually didn’t but knew that humans lives were much different.
“Well, we don’t have to celebrate it, but knowing would have been nice.” He looked upset and MC instantly regretted it.
“It’s okay Beel! Really.” MC smiled warmly at him. They walked over and hugged the big demon before going back to their food.
Beel sighed and said, “Can we cuddle tonight?”
MC turned, shocked. He didn’t specifically ask for cuddles often, so this was unexpected. MC instantly asked, “Because it’s my birthday?”
Beel shook his head.
“I really like cuddling with you.”
Belphegor
He was honestly annoyed at MC’s behavior. And worried. But if anyone asked, he was annoyed at it.
He was shocked- but still tired. So he pushed MC over slightly and layer down next to them.
Him popping up in MCs room was honestly a normal thing. They’d do whatever they were doing and Belphie would claim their bed.
So when he slunk to their room, he didn’t expect to see them in their bed.
As he was falling asleep, he heard MC’s phone start ringing. She had set her ringtone from the human world to be berry annoying.
He picked up the phone and said, “They’re asleep.” Before he could hang up, he heard them yell, “Tell her we said happy birthday!”
He was confused. MC had been acting bratty... because it was their birthday?
He decided he needed a well-deserved nap first and that he’d handle it when he woke up.
They were both woke up a few hours later for dinner, and afterwards, MC retreated back to their room again.
Belphie snuck back into their bed, waiting for MC to finish their homework.
When MC finished, Belphie looked at them and said “Happy birthday.”
As MC spluttered and tried asking how he knew, he rolled his eyes and said, “You had family that called.”
“Oh.”
Belphie was by MCs side now, as they had been walking over to the bed during this ordeal.
“MC, I don’t need your reasoning for not telling me your birthday, but I hope I’ll be told next year?”
MC nods, smiling lightly.
“MC, will you watch the stars with me?”
(Aah, this took longer than expected!! I hope it’s what was expected)
149 notes · View notes
hopeamarsu · 3 years
Text
Of potions and myths - Chapter 8
William “Ironhead” Miller x f!reader
Word count 2,8k
Warnings: Some angst, but it’s mostly sappy and fluffy. 
A/N: This is it, the final chapter. I’m getting a little emotional over this, this is my baby and I can’t believe it’s finished. It’s done, complete, and OMG. I can’t believe I did it! Wow. 
Thank you so much for sticking with me on this ride, I can’t thank you enough ❤️ I hope you enjoy this morning with our bonded couple. 
Chapter 7 - Story masterlist
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The morning light sweeps across Will’s bedroom and you stir from your slumber as the rays tickle your eyes and nose. It takes a moment to orient yourself, but as you wake up a little more, you feel Will’s strong arm around your middle, keeping you tight against him, the other hand under your pillow and last night comes back in a rush. You burrow into his arms a little more with a smile, feeling his hot breath on your neck and relishing in his warm embrace around you. You feel well-rested and the thought alone makes you giddy. 
When the call with his uncle was finished, he’d swept you up from the couch, kissed you soundly and told you about the pull he felt, how it had changed in between you. There hadn’t really been a discussion on what it meant as you’d taken the celebration back to the bedroom and he’d made you cum hard twice until he’d rendered you boneless once again. After a short cleanup, you had settled under the blankets and into his arms, falling asleep tangled up together. 
Now, as you lay in his arms, you turn the words from last night in your mind. The pull was still there? But how come you didn’t feel it, only he did? It’s a little concerning, though it might only be because he is a wolf and you are not, but you don’t like it. Worry gnaws in your stomach as you keep wondering how and why it’s different for you now when it wasn’t before. Were you not enough? Was your mundane status not what the bond wanted after all? 
“Mmmm, y’think too hard, I can hear you from here,” Will mumbles, kissing your neck. “I thought I’d worn you out last night.” He trails a series of kisses to where he reaches, basking in the combined scents of you both and the heavy aroma of sex still lingering in the air. One of his hand trails down to your naked thigh and he squeezes the flesh gently. He nips gently at your shoulder, a low purr in his chest as his wolf rejoices in the connection you now share. 
“You did, I don’t think I’ve slept this good in a long while,” you reply, trying to keep your voice light and airy, but failing miserably. He props himself up quickly, all alert now, and holds your shoulder to push you under him. His eyes flash somewhere between red and blue, almost purple as they sweep your face and his nostrils flare as Will takes in the shift in your posture.  
“Hey. Talk to me sweetheart. What’s on your mind?”
You turn your head sideways, not wanting to look at him and his inquisitive eyes. You don’t want to tell him, to ruin the mood, but also at the same time you want to share, want to hear him tell you again that all is going to be fine. 
The emotional turmoil of the past week and now takes its toll and you can feel hot tears gathering in your eyes and you close them in effort to make them not drop. This is a happy moment, don’t ruin it, you remind yourself over and over again. It’s not a big deal, the elders surely have an explanation for this. And you do feel him, the touch is there! It’s nothing big, just tell him all is well. 
“Baby, please. Look at me,” Will pleads with you, watching as you shake your head minutely, mouth in a thin line and eyes scrunched shut. He’s getting more worried by the second and gathers you as close as he can, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck. 
“Please sweetheart, don’t push this away. Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it together.” Please don’t push us away, he thinks as he kisses your scar, hoping it will soothe you but it only makes your head shake harder. 
“Are you in pain? You’re worrying me right now.” He takes an alarmed look at you, shuffling back a little with eyes running across your body to see if something has happened during the night. A worrisome thought comes to his mind that maybe he hurt you last night, not enough prep or care taken in the frenzy. He itches to run his hands all over your body to make sure nothing is there.
“No, no… I’m okay, just. I think a lot is catching up with me now.” Your voice is raspy as you finally speak. You don’t look at him, opting to keep your eyes closed, a point that is not missed by the man in bed with you. Will lowers his voice a little, something hesitant creeping into his tone as he speaks. 
“Do you - ummmm - do you regret... what happened last night?”
He doesn’t want to ask it, he doesn’t want to hear the words if this is what has you upset. But he’s trying, he wants to make this work and this bond flourish and if asking things that make him uncomfortable to voice is it, it’s a price he’s willing to pay. You shoot him a look with wide, panicked eyes and you place your hand on his cheek, stroking the stubble gently. 
“Will, no, of course not! Last night was amazing, beyond anything I’d ever hoped for. I’m just… I guess I took the loss of the connection harder than I thought I would.” 
He breathes deep from his nose, his shoulders sagging in relief. For a moment he thought the worst, the old wounds and fears rearing their ugly heads and Will gathers you back into his arms, squeezing tight. 
Taking a moment to ground himself on you, he closes his eyes and draws in your scent, blissfully mixed with his. The scent of home. He reminds himself that he’ll need to open up about his own scars eventually too, but this is far too important to dismiss. He wants to help you in any way he can and if he can help it, he’ll take all of your worry and pain away.   
“Do you want to go back to the elders? Or maybe Frankie’s abuela could help, she’s not in the council but she used to be. She knows a lot and has a good sense of the spirit world. I could invite her over and you could talk. Or perhaps you would like to consult your colleagues?” 
He’s spouting off ideas, feeling somewhat helpless. He keeps the more ludicrous ideas to himself now, his agitated mind sprouting off ideas that range from turning you into a wolf (something Will has never done in his life) to running away to live in Norway, far away from any of this but if you want them, he’ll give them to you. 
“Will, I’m not…”
“Just say the word sweetheart, whatever you want to do.” 
You are about to answer him, when a loud knock on the front door interrupts and Will lets out a low growl. The knock is soon followed by another and another and then Benny’s voice booms from the door. 
“Come open the door, brother! And you better be decent, I’m not watching your bare ass this early in the morning William!”  He growls again, this time louder. You cover your mouth with your hand, trying not to make a sound. 
“I can hear you growling in there! Come open the door. The boys and I, we brought breakfast and we need to brainstorm how you are going to ask your lovely mate to MOVE IN WITH YOU AFTER THE BONDING!” That little shit. Will leaps out of bed, huffing and forgoing his shirt as he stomps towards the front door. 
He wretches it open, eyes flashing in anger as he glares at the three men on his doorstep, shit-eating grins on their faces. Benny winks and shoulders his way in, followed by Frankie and Santi, the latter clapping Will in the back as he squeezes past. The blond drags a hand across his face before closing the door with a sigh and follows his brothers to the kitchen, where Benny has commandeered the space. 
He moves around the space like he owns it, picking up items to use for breakfast while Frankie sweeps up the glass shards and Santi gets the coffee running. It’s a well-oiled machine, each of them anticipating the others move but this time Will opts to stay out of it, flicking his eyes between the closed bedroom door and his brothers. He longs to join you back in bed, ease up your worries over the connection and he needs to figure out something fast so he can get the boys out of the house.
But all his plans go out the window as you open the bedroom door and step out, bare feet padding on his floor and his flannel tucked around your body. You’ve dug out some college pants and a tank top to fit under the flannel and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you look more beautiful. All three heads pop up as they register the footsteps and Will smirks a little as he thinks of what goes on in their heads as you reach him and lean up for a kiss.
He tastes his toothpaste on your mouth and a little possessive but happy sound leaves his lips as he accepts the offered lips on his own. 
“So, no planning needed then, huh?” Santi quips, picking up a fifth cup from the cupboard. He doesn’t sound surprised, more like that he was expecting this. “I saw you last night as you hurried past, not exactly subtle behavior,” He winks at Benny, who has stopped peeling the avocados. 
“And you didn’t tell us?” Benny gestures at himself and Frankie with the peeling knife. The older man snorts. “He didn’t tell you, but I got a text full of emoji peaches and eggplants with the words Will and mate sprinkled in.” The dry tone of Frankie’s voice makes Will snort and he watches amused at his little brother pointing an accusing finger at the third man. 
“The fuck Pope?!” 
“Hey, you would’ve run your mouth and brought the whole council here had I told you. These two needed a night alone, without anyone hovering over them with research or myths or potions or pressure.” He looks at Benny, who has to shrug, agreeing with the statement.
“But you could’ve told me this morning…”
“Where’s the fun in that? And besides, this had the added bonus of embarrassing Ironhead when you yelled that comment, so I’m going to take my win!” Santi cackles and tries to hide behind Frankie as Benny suddenly gets the urge to throw something in his direction.
Will grips your side softly, steering you to the side, out of view. 
“Please excuse those assholes…” He murmurs, turning you so you are face to face and tips your face up from your chin so he can look into your eyes.” Are you okay?” He wants to ask more, but mindful of the men currently wreaking havoc in his kitchen, he keeps his words brief. “Do you want to talk in private?”
“I’m fine Will, really. It just hit me hard, but we’ll figure it out. I’m alright, I promise. We’ll consult the elders later, okay?” Your words feel like a balm on his heart.
“As long as you’re sure, sweetheart.” He rubs your arm before honing in on your bare shoulder peeking from under his flannel and this time he follows his instincts and wraps his arms around you and noses the flesh. It works well for him to hide his face as he speaks the next words, feeling both calm and timid at the same time. This was definitely not the way he thought about doing this but his brothers forced his hand. 
“I know you heard them yelling, so I guess there’s no point in hiding this.”
“Yes.” You answer him before he can even get the question out. He’s right, you did hear Benny yelling earlier (the whole street heard) and while it still feels crazy and too soon and out of this world, you know it’s what you want. What you desire. “I’ll move in with you, if that was your question.” 
Elated, Will sweeps down to claim your lips into a longer, heavier, more passionate kiss. He grips your hips as he draws you in and slips his tongue into your eager mouth. “Let me, umhmm, get rid of, mmmmm, these idiots and, uhnmmh…” He tries to whisper between kisses, but not a lot comes out. You finally regain your senses and end the kiss, small pants leaving your lips. 
You go to speak but Will shakes his head and kisses you hard again. “Just a moment, I want a second to kiss my mate good morning. My beautiful, gorgeous mate who is all mine,” He grins against your lips, relishing in the idea that you are his, he is yours and the bond is strong between you. All mine and I’m all yours, he thinks as he forgets the world and loses himself within your warm lips. 
Before he can turn it into a full-blown make-out session, you distance your lips from his, echoing your movements from before. You press your foreheads together briefly before straightening your spine. “Behave, mate,” you tease him and watch surprised at his unconsciously preening form over the word, tucking the information for later use. 
Will nearly whines at the loss of you, but your finger on his lips stops any of that and he nibbles on the digit, hoping you’ll entertain his idea of breakfast in bed, for two only, but you have other plans. “They are your brothers and considering our newly-bonded status, I would love to get to know your pack, your family, a little better.” 
“Our pack, our family.” 
Your eyes might be a little misty and your smile is splitting your face at his words, but sappy as they might be, it feels so right to hear the words from his mouth. You reach up to cup his face between your hands and you press a hard kiss into his plush lips. 
“Then let's go and tell them the good news.”  
You take his hand into yours and you return to the kitchen, snorting as something green hangs from Santi’s cheek. Frankie is washing his ballcap under the spray and his curls wild around his head as he glares at Benny, who looks mighty proud of his ability to swing guacamole ammo around the room. 
Will shakes his head in that exparated love in his eyes one can only have for family and you know that despite what the elders might have to say about the missing connection, or your bond or whatever, this is now your home. Even if the pull never comes back for you, this feels right and that’s all that matters. Despite the worries you had in the morning, they seem to evaporate as you work it out in your mind. You love this man and he loves you, he accepts you into his family. That’s all there really is to it, your mind whispers to you as calmness settles on your heart. 
You all sit down around the table and only slightly burnt toast is passed around. Once the plates are full and overflowing, Will tells them the good news. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and kisses your forehead and whoops of joy fill the air.
“So it really worked, huh? You are bonded now?” Santi asks, taking a sip of his coffee.
“Yeah, we are. We’re mates now.” Will nods and steals another small kiss from you, Benny groaning that it looks gross when it’s his big brother. This makes Frankie smack the younger man and grin in your direction. The tiny nod of approval from him goes unnoticed by all but you and you wink back at him.  
The boys gently rib at their brother while congratulating you and asking all the questions you don’t know all the answers to but it’s okay. Easy conversation fills the air as the men begin to plan moving all your things into this house later that afternoon and you lean into your mate’s embrace and smile. 
Whatever might come next, potion or myth, you know you have this and it makes your heart soar. 
It might be the first time a love potion actually led to love.
*
Of potions and myths taglist: @mylifeisactuallyamess​​​​ @luxmundee​​​​ @innerpaperexpertcloud​​​​
Everything taglist (I fully understand if you want to skip this one, please let me know and I’ll remove you!) @clydesducktape​​​​ @wayward-rose​​​​ @themuseic​​​​ @miraclesabound​​​​ @clydesfavoritegirl​​​​ @a-true-janian-reply​​​​  @10blurredsmoke10​​​​  @caillea​​​​ @mariesackler​​​​ @princessxkenobi​
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characteroulette · 3 years
Text
okay okay okay okay
now that I’ve finished DGS1 and can think of nothing else, let me elabourate on what I’ve been ranting about to Verse and my sister (thanks for putting up with me hahaha)
(spoilers for all of DGS1 by the by we going HARD)
So the overarching theme of DGS1 is Trust. How it’s built up, who deserves it, how to extend your hand to those who may not deserve it, and how to build it back up when it’s been broken. Each case builds on this as Ryuunosuke goes on his journey and I think it’s handled really, really well
Case 1, Asougi teaches you the basics of Trust. He tells you that he will trust you and follow you until the end. Twice, right at the beginning of the trial, he tells you that your actions are betraying his trust, even though Ryuunosuke thinks he’s doing it to spare his friend the pain.
(like, seriously, Asougi pretty much says “How sad. You don’t trust that I actually believe in you.” and then “You would throw that trust right back in my face by just accepting a Guilty verdict, huh?” it’s really explicit) (which is probs the only reason why I noticed it hahaha)
But as the trial goes on, Asougi’s unwavering belief in Ryuunosuke helps our protag boy believe in himself. And he trusts Asougi easily due to their close friendship, but you see the shift from “there’s no way I’m gonna be able to prove my innocence” to “I can’t do anything except prove my innocence” as the trial goes on, just because Asougi never stops believing in Ryuunosuke.
And then Case 2 hits and you have to learn to trust others who might seem like enemies at first. This chapter’s mostly for Susato’s growth, because she starts off absolutely not trusting you, but as you hang out and investigate together she just naturally slots into your little sister role and, before she even realises it, she’s trusting Ryuunosuke and working hard to help him prove his innocence. She admits in the end that she should never have doubted you, but you can tell this experience made a deep impression on her, as her trust in Ryuunosuke never wavers and I think that’s beautiful. ;w;
Next is Hosonaga! An odd addition, but he places his trust in Ryuunosuke pretty immediately and easily, showing just how much of an impact Asougi and Ryuunosuke’s relationship made on him during Case 1. The fact that he places any trust in Ryuunosuke at all is enough to bolster Ryuunosuke’s resolve, since Ryuunosuke needed to not be so alone while grieving for his best friend’s death on top of having to prove his innocence. (The whole of DGS1 handles grief really well, I think also, but that’s another essay I’ll have to write.)
And then the disaster man himself, Sherlock. (/Herlock) He’s the reason why Ryuunosuke’s been arrested again and it’s very, very hard to trust this man. I think they did a really good job of making his personality abrasive enough to be just exasperating enough that you can’t take him seriously, but also for you to feel fondness towards his dumb ass. (The perfect AA balance, honestly.) Sherlock is a hard nut to crack, appearing as if he never truly suspected you of any wrongdoing to begin with (it’s his whimsical nature that does it), but you really get a sense of how easily he builds up a rapport with Ryuunosuke from their first whole conversation.
Once you engage in your first Dance of Deduction with Sherlock, that’s it. You’re his friend now. And he basically is just treating you as such from then on, no hesitations on letting you out of your shackles and mischievously putting you right back in them once you’ve finished. Sherlock has seen your character and trusts you, even if he won’t say so outright.
(That one line really hits me, where he basically admits that he was treating this as a game and not fully realising how deeply the whole event has hit Ryuunosuke and Susato. Asougi was their friend, and his admitting that all of his mischief and jokes weren’t ever quite appropriate, given the circumstances, is touching and the actual moment, I think, where Ryuunosuke starts placing his trust in Sherlock in return.)
Case 3 is the big one. Ryuunosuke is sent to defend a man whom he’s not even sure is innocent. The trial goes along and you, the player, can do nothing even if you know what’s really happening. All you can do is trust that Ryuunosuke can handle things and it’s a huge, HUGE step for them to take to have your client mislead you like this. And so successfully!
But the damage is done and Ryuunosuke’s trust in his resolve, his friend’s belief, is broken. Not shattered, thankfully, but broken enough to make Ryuunosuke hesitant to place his trust in anyone again.
Unfortunately, Case 4 comes barrelling out the gate and you’re called upon to place your trust in someone yet again. Ryuunosuke is clearly not ready for it, his narration makes it clear, but you as the player ask Ryuunosuke to trust in you. He goes along and investigates despite being unsure, which as Susato points out (I think it was Susato), he’d made his mind up long before actually taking on the case.
This is also! Where we get to see that, despite all the airs and pretences Barok van Zieks puts on, he’s willing to place more trust in Ryuunosuke than he rightly should. Once Ryuunosuke has the truth in his sights, Van Zieks allows him to continue on his fancies. Van Zieks willingly engages him in discussions and helps iron out all the logic along the way. And though Ryuunosuke doesn’t realise it fully himself, he also starts to trust Van Zieks in return, thinking of him not as an opponent so much as a colleague. Maybe even a friend.
(All I can say is that it’s 1-3 Edgeworth all over again and I LIVE for this shit owo)
Since the truth is secured, along with your client’s innocence, Ryuunosuke’s willingness to trust has been mended somewhat. So we next turn to our client of Case 5, who needs to learn the same lesson after similar events have broken her ability to trust. Gina makes for an interesting parallel to Ryuunosuke in this regard, since they experience a whole slew of terrible events that test their ability to trust. The difference is simply that Ryuunosuke was willing to have friends, to keep trusting others, whereas Gina refused to have friends or place any trust in others even though she desperately wanted to.
That conversation she, Susato, and Ryuunosuke have about it at her cell is really good. The one they have during their night together at Sherlock’s attic is great, too! Iris admitting that she does have her own doubts and Gina, through no benefit of her own, going to confirm on Iris’ behalf because maybe this Sherlock person could be trustworthy after all. Ryuunosuke admitting that he had doubts about Asougi’s trust in him, but as the trial progressed, finding that it was an unwavering belief that Asougi placed in him and how it stopped even being a question in his mind.
Because, to place your trust in someone else, you must first trust yourself.
(shit I forgot to mention) This is a big breaking point for Susato, too! Because she loses her trust in the Law after both Case 3 and Case 4. She’s seen what the London courts will do and realises that, if others are going to play dirty, then it might be better to engage right back. But her unwavering faith in Ryuunosuke helps her realise that what she’s done is wrong and, though her faith in the legal system has taken a big hit, she knows that Ryuunosuke won’t give up the fight. Ryuunosuke will do everything he can to help his clients and she believes in him whole-heartedly.
And Van Zieks sees this, too! He sees this fierce dragon before him, fighting even the government of Britain to protect his client, and thinks to himself, “This is exactly what our system has been needing.” And he joins in the fight! The police hold no authority in the courts; to Van Zieks, it is just him and Ryuunosuke, figuring out the whole truth, no matter how painful it may be.
And Ryuunosuke takes this trust with him all the way through, even getting his permission to participate in trials revoked in order to save Gina.
And that’s why Ryuunosuke is probably the greatest lawyer next to Apollo in the whole series thanks for coming to my essay talk
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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years
Text
Promotion: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader
synopsis: You don't ever make it to the convention. At all.
wc: 2.4k
tw: NSFW
masterlist
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"Hey, y/n, are you coming out to lunch with us?" You turn your chair around to face your co-workers, all of them gathering their things to leave for the day. A half-day, right.
You'd completely forgotten about the half-day your boss offered as a reward for meeting every single editing deadline for a month straight. And now you were knee-deep in a manuscript, your mind completely focused on the task on the computer in front of you.
"I think I'll stay here and work on this for a little while. You all enjoy yourselves!" Your co-workers wave goodbye, chattering about their weekend plans as you turn back around, shifting the feedback sheet from your desk and onto the printer.
You dive back into your work - frowning as you come across a massive plot hole - the door to your boss's office flies open. You jump a little, startled by the sudden movement, and watch Nanami Kento adjust his clear frames before sliding them back on his handsome face.
"Y/n, could I speak to you for a moment? I'm sorry to interrupt your workflow, but this is urgent," he begins, and you stand from your desk, saving the work you've done before walking into his office. As you take a seat in the only other chair in the room, you cross your legs at the ankle, waiting for Nanami to take his place at his desk.
"Did you not want to take the half-day?" The blonde man wonders, sitting in his chair and unbuttoning his jacket.
"No, I really want to get as much work done as possible before the weekend."
"Big plans?" His brow lifts, and you inhale sharply, wondering what he's implying.
"No," you admit, looking down at your fingers and feeling your cheeks heat up. "I like to rest on my days off, is all."
"I won't keep you long, then. One of our managing editors - Hisoka - is leaving at the end of next week. You've been working very hard on making sure manuscripts are done right, clients are satisfied, and book deals go smoothly that I was wondering if you'd be willing to accept her position and her spot at the conference next week." A promotion? And a spot a the Editor's Conference?
"Sir, I'm flattered by your consideration--"
"Then it's done. I'll send over the paperwork on Monday morning, and I'll make sure you're settled in your new position by Friday." Nanami begins typing at his computer, and you stare at him, open-mouthed. "What's wrong?"
"I mean, this is all so sudden, I..." you trail off as Nanami frowns at you, his confusion evident. "Thank you, sir."
"You're the most qualified for the position, so I think you'll do just fine." He smiles as you stand to leave, giving him a slight bow.
"I'll do my best."
_____________________________________________________________
You shift nervously as the taxi takes both you and your boss from the train station to your hotel, where you hope the assistant booked you a decent room so you can get some rest before the big day tomorrow. Nanami is checking his phone, reading through emails before the taxi stops, letting you both out on the sidewalk in front of the ritzy hotel in the moonlight.
"I'll check-in for both of us," Nanami murmurs, and you go to sit in the lobby area while he speaks with the receptionist. Before long, you can hear a slight disagreement break out, and you turn your head to watch your boss approach you slowly, head bowed a little.
"What's wrong?" you wonder, clutching your bag close.
"Takada booked us only one room instead of two. I think she might have gotten the idea that since Hisoka left, that I would just be going."
"Well," you begin, standing. "Surely we can get another room."
"There isn't any room," he mutters, rubbing his eyes. "All of the hotels in the area are booked." You deflate, wondering what to do next. Nanami watches you carefully, picking up his briefcase before you reply,
"Well, I guess we have no choice, then."
He escorts you up to the elevator and swipes his keycard, pressing the highest floor before clearing his throat. You feel sweat pooling under your arms as you think about possibly sharing a bed with your boss. Yes, he's handsome as hell. But... sleeping in the same bed as a co-worker is... wrong. Right?
When the door to the suite opens, you look around at the lavish furnishings and beautiful view it affords you.
"I'll take the couch," Nanami announces, sighing as he drops his luggage beside the less than appealing couch.
"It looks uncomfortable," you state, and he takes off his glasses.
"I'm not going to assume you're comfortable with me sharing a bed with you, so I'm offering it to you by default."
"I'm sure we can both fit," you offer, and he glances up at you curiously. "Don't worry, it'll be fine." Nanami thinks for a moment, then moves his things into the bedroom, placing them on the other side of the king-sized bed. "And I promise I won't tell anyone," you tease, but he just gives you a blank look that makes you look away, cringing internally. Cool it with the jokes, you tell yourself.
As Nanami takes a shower, you pull out the various items you have to sleep in, groaning at your selection. There were only short, frilly things, instead of what you normally brought - baggy t-shirts and sweatpants. Why did you choose to bring these of all things?
Grumbling, you walk over to the mini-fridge and pull out a small bottle of Moët, tossing it back for courage. You feel the champagne hit your system moments later- and you wonder how you made it through college at this point.
The sound of the shower shutting off makes you squeak, and you throw on the silk slip before climbing into bed and facing away from the bathroom door. When Nanami emerges, you hear him shift around before climbing under the sheets, and muttering,
"Good night, y/n."
"Good night, sir."
_____________________________________________________________
Your arm is on someone's chest when you awake. You moan, lifting your head and coming face to face with your boss - who is already awake.
"Oh!" you shift off of Nanami, heart beating wildly. "I am so sorry, sir, I--"
"No, it's fine," Nanami chuckles. "It's not every morning that I wake up with a beautiful woman in my bed. Or have her talk about me in her sleep."
"Huh?" you stop, feeling your stomach drop.
"You said some... interesting things about me while you were asleep. If I had known you were a sleeptalker, I would have--"
"What did I say?" you whisper, frightened.
"Oh, nothing," Nanami chuckles, getting out of the bed and stretching. "Just something about how you found me good-looking and how you wanted to--"
You look away from him, rubbing your face in embarrassment. "I am so, so sorry, Mr. Nanami, it must have been the Moët I had before bed."
"Oh, I'm not upset. I just wish you would've said something sooner, y/n." You turn back to him, your eyes widening. "I find you attractive, too. But I had to be sure you weren't just dreaming before I said anything to you." He climbs back onto the bed, touching your face with a tender hand.
You instinctively lean into his palm, and he tilts your chin up, leaning forward. His lips ghost over yours before pressing against your cheek, and you moan. "Is this okay?" Nanami wonders, and you nod, feeling goosebumps run across your skin.
"Yes," you reply, and he leans forward again. This time, he kisses you gently, hands drifting from your face to your hips, where they play with the edges of your slip.
"Do you know how hard it was to sleep with you next to me?" he breathes, kissing down your neck. "Your beautiful hands fluttering from my face to my chest..." He cups your breasts over your slip and thumbs your nipples repeatedly, making you shudder.
"Nanami..." you exhale, and he removes one of the spaghetti straps of your slip slowly. "Sir, I--" He stops, replacing your strap quickly.
"I'm sorry, I'm not supposed to do this," The blonde man shakes his head, closing his eyes. Your breath hitches, but he doesn't move away from you, still. "I shouldn't--"
"Please," you interrupt him, grabbing his wrist. "Please." At your appeals, his lips crash into yours again and you tangle your fingers into his hair.
"Tell me when you want to stop," he urges you, hands running up your slip and gripping your bare thighs. But you allow him to lay you across the bed, tongues tangling as he undresses you with care.
"I need you," you breathe, and Nanami hums in response.
"We'll be late to the conference," he notes, but you shake your head. "We might not even make it the first day." But he makes no move to stop, again, rolling your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. "You alright with that?" The only thing you can do is moan as your body writhes underneath his grip, his hands orchestrating the symphonic melodies coming from your throat.
Nanami blinks slowly, leaning down to capture one of the buds between his lips. He sucks and pulls with precision, and your mind goes blank, not even registering that the color of the ceiling. All you know are the sensations you're feeling right now.
"How do you feel?" Nanami wonders, a hand sliding down to your core. As his fingers slide between your folds, you whisper,
"It feels good." He presses a finger into you before adding another, hovering above you as he strokes your g-spot.
"You're so beautiful," Nanami moans, eyes roaming over your exposed body as he drives you to madness, adding his thumb on your clit. You want to let go, you want to cum, but the fear of your boss seeing you in this way is just-- "It's okay," Nanami whispers, pressing his lips to your ear. "I promise I won't tell anyone."
"Oh my god," you shudder, his fingers being coated with your slick and cum liberally. Nanami croons at the way your hips jerk into his palm while you squirt all over his hand. You pant heavily once it's over, and he removes his shirt, revealing a body you've only dreamed about. His muscles are just as defined as you thought, and as he removes his pants dutifully, you watch his thick cock spring free.
"Can I?" he wonders, pumping his cock with his slick covered hand. You spread your legs a little more, inviting him to fuck you just like you've wanted for so long.
All those days he walked by your desk with his sleeves pushed up around his arms... all those times he stopped to speak with you about your day... and all those times you watched him give a presentation, imaging his lips rolling across your skin during the meetings... You would faint if you knew just how close you could get to him in one morning.
As Nanami sinks into you, you exhale deeply, and he grips your leg, leaning down and pressing himself onto you carefully. Your arm winds around his back and he stares at you as he pumps into you, his warm breath caressing your face. "Is that good?"
"So good," you whine, curling your nails into his skin. "Nanami, I--"
"Kento," the man whispers against your skin. "Please, call me Kento."
"Kento," you instantly moan, and he presses a kiss to your throat, picking up his speed. His free hand snakes behind your back, lifting you up a little as he fucks you. His breathing becomes ragged as his cock strokes your insides, pulling sounds out of you that you never considered being in your lexicon.
The smacking sounds and wetness between your thighs are enough to bring you to the edge, but Nanami slows his strokes, making them long and deep. Your orgasm abates, but you don't mind. Being beholden to Nanami is heaven.
"I'm going to make you feel some things," he warns, and you open your mouth to reply, but he continues. "You might not like being edged, but I want you to feel this next orgasm in your soul." Edged? He picks up his speed once more, knocking the thought right out of your head as you're jostled back and forth on the sheets. You can't really think rationally, anyways. Why bother?
"Mmmm," you grunt, face scrunching together as you feel another orgasm building again. And you think maybe he'll let you cum, but he slows down again, sweat dripping from his face onto your chest. "Kento, I can't take it!" you pant, but your boss nods.
"Just one more, y/n." You oblige, toes curling painfully as he quickens his thrusts and pulls you up and leans back, pumping into you from below. The sensation is remarkably different, you note, and his dick curves into you perfectly as he continues thrusting. You gasp, fingers curling into his shoulders as you feel the same orgasm building. "Ken--"
He slows down again, and you cry out, thighs quivering with the need for release. "Hold on to me," Nanami breathes, smoothing his hands down your arms and taking your fingers in his. "I'm going to let you cum this time." You tuck your face in between the crook of his neck and shoulder, moaning obscenely as he fucks you back to the brink of insanity. But this time, when your thighs clench and your hips stiffen, he keeps going, squeezing your hands carefully.
"Kento, oh my fucking god," you shout, losing yourself in the intensity of the orgasm. You might have blacked out if it wasn't for Nanami holding you against him and his hips stuttering violently as he came inside of you.
"That's it," your boss moans loudly. "That's my girl..." You're so overwhelmed that you don't register where he stops and where you begin. Everything is hazy, and you wonder if this is what it's like to be fuck drunk. You feel something being pulled over you and the way Kento holds you close, whispering sweet nothings to you as you try to keep awake, but your whole body surrenders to the finality of the moment, to the peace, and you fall asleep in his arms.
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nomtterwhere · 3 years
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come back to me || marco peña x reader
a/n: now that we have an official announcement for kissing booth 3, i figured i’d finish this little fic that has been sitting in my drafts. i combined two requests because they were kind of similar and i had an idea that would work the both of them in. hope you guys like it!
request: @dystopianchic13 requested: “Going on a date and finding someone better after Elle!” and @mansaaay requested: “marco befriended a girl before the elle thirsting over marco incident, and the kissing booth, marco and the girl sorta start talking again?”
summary: when marco starts at your school, the two of you quickly become friends. but when elle gets involved, your relationship takes a turn for the worse...
word count: 4.4k
marco valentin peña.
newest school heartthrob, with good reason, and very quickly set to possibly be the most popular guy in school. and yet, here he was sitting and eating lunch with you and your friends.
it’s not that you weren’t well liked or anything, but you and your friend group were nowhere near the status of the omgs. and considering the way everyone talked about him from the moment he stepped into the building, you had assumed that would be the direction he would flock.
but alas, on his first day at this school, he ended up standing at your table, tray of food in hand. your friend nudged you until you looked up from your lunch and saw him standing there. up until this point you had only heard of marco. you hadn’t shared any classes with him earlier in the day but throughout all of them you could hear bits and pieces of conversation about how attractive this guy was. and now that he was standing in front of you, those comments didn’t do him enough justice.
he was wearing the same uniform everyone else was, but he had rolled his sleeves up so they just passed his elbows, drawing your attention almost immediately to his forearms. trailing your eyes up his body, your eyes followed along his broad shoulders and up the length of his neck, glancing at his strong jawline.
you made eye contact with him, your breath quite literally leaving your body. his brown eyes were kind and inviting, friendly even, as if you hadn’t just been shamelessly checking him out.
“um, hi.” you say.
he smiles at you, nods to the empty seat across from you. “hey, i was wondering if that seat was taken.”
oh god, his voice.
you try and ignore the pinch that quinn delivers to your thigh underneath the table and shake your head. “no. um, it’s all yours.”
he gives you a full smile now, his perfect teeth on full display and you can’t help but smile back. he takes a seat, setting his bag down beside him.
your friend grant sits at his right side and places a hand on his shoulder. “you’re marco, right?”
marco nods.
grant squints his eyes at him and shakes his head, looking across the table at you and quinn. “unbelievable.”
he turns back to marco. “do me a favor and stay away from my girlfriend.”
“grant!” the girlfriend in question, jen, exclaims and gives him a look before turning to marco. “excuse him, he’s an idiot.”
grant releases marco with a laugh and takes a bite of his sandwich. “i was kidding! mostly.” he mumbles the last word through a full mouth.
marco laughs, waving it off. “it’s okay. trust me, i’m not here to steal anyone’s girlfriend.”
you take a drink from your water bottle, laughing at your friends. “yeah, this may have not been the prime table for you to choose to sit at.”
marco shrugs, giving you a half smile. “i like it. you guys seem very...”
“loud?” quinn finishes as one of the boys down the table shrieks as someone else pours water down his shirt. “disruptive? unfiltered?” she aims that last word at grant, who’s too infatuated with his sandwich to notice.
marco laughs again and you smile. he seems very open, you note. willing to go with anything.
“i was gonna say entertaining.” he shrugs. “but those work too.”
you and your friends quickly introduce yourselves and the rest of the lunch period resumes like it always would have.
marco quickly slips into the natural system of you and your friends, not even a little bit fazed when the entire cafeteria turned to see the commotion that you had caused when someone flipped their entire lunch tray off the table. he simply laughed along with you guys, giving himself into the moment. too soon, lunch is over and you and your friends are cleaning up your table and throwing out the trash. faintly, you hear quinn arguing with the boys, telling them you were the ones to make the mess so of course you have to clean it up! as you came back to your table from returning your tray.
marco looks at you when you return and stands. “hey, could you tell me where mr. peterson’s room is? i would have asked one of them but...” the both of you turn your heads to where quinn is supervising the boys picking up after themselves and the girls sneak off as best as they can before quinn gets to them as well. “...they seem a bit busy.”
you laugh, picking up your backpack. “just another day with this bunch, trust me. but lucky for you, i also have ap physics next.”
the bell rings and you turn to quinn, but she hasn’t let up on the boys so you just let her be. being late on the first day isn’t that big of a deal anyway.
you lead marco to the physics room, all eyes on the two of you as soon as you step into the room. you almost forgot that you had spent the entirety of lunch with the school’s newest crush up until this very moment. you could feel the glares directed at you radiating throughout the room and watched as heads of those who hadn’t seen him yet perk up as he entered.
“is it just me, or is everyone looking at us?” marco had bent down and was whispering in your ear.
you decide not to inflate his ego anymore and shake your head. “it’s just you.”
you take a seat at one of the lab tables, marco sitting beside you. you zone out as the teacher speaks, it was the first day so it was mainly rules and the expectations for the year.
so you don’t pay much attention until one sentence catches your ear:
“the person you’re sitting with will be your lab partner for the rest of the year.”
you and marco turn to look at each other and he grins.
“hi, partner.” he says, quietly since mr. peterson is still speaking.
“you should know, i have been yelled at in every lab class i’ve ever taken because i always forget the directions.” you warn him.
“well this should be fun. so have i.” he winks and you both laugh quietly.
the period passes slowly as most do on the first day. the bell rings but everyone stays in their seats since lab was next anyway.
you go over lab rules and discuss the first lab you will be doing next time and you raise your brows as he hands out the instruction sheet.
“yikes, this looks like a lot of steps.” you say to marco and he shakes his head.
“mm, yeah. next lab class should be fun, don’t you think?” he gives you a knowing look.
you can’t help but laugh at the thought of you in a lab class together, but the laughter is also for the fact that you found marco.
never in your life had you met someone who was so ready to quickly adapt and go with the flow. you had had no doubt that your lunch table would be enough to scare him off but he had already decided he would be coming back tomorrow. and so, that became the beginning of your friendship and many screwed up labs. marco inserted himself nicely into your friend group and the two of you especially started becoming really close. that was, until one fateful day.
“...hot.” is the only thing you hear over the loudspeaker in the middle of your english class and everyone around you looks up in confusion. “he’s just a guy...woah!”
you quickly recognize the voice as elle evans and also realize that she probably doesn’t know she’s being broadcast to the entire school right now.
“the omgs were right, this guy is a snack!” you hear her say and everyone in your classroom laughs, the teacher’s eyebrows raised.
you wince on her behalf. you’re not friends, but still. that’s embarrassing for anyone. everyone gathers pretty quickly that’s she’s talking about marco and you internally roll your eyes. obviously you know marco’s hot, you have eyes. but to have another girl describe just how hot he is over the loudspeaker during class makes you bubble over with annoyance.
and besides, doesn’t she have a boyfriend?
eventually, her tirade stops and your teacher tries to calm the class down so you can get back to work. but even as you leave your class, everyone is still taking about it and elle has been given the new nickname get it girl.
“ah, there he is, our very own full course meal. or was he the dessert?” grant asks as marco sits at the table.
“no, grant. he’s a snack, remember?” quinn joins in.
“how about all of the above?” you say and the table erupts into laughter.
marco shakes his head. “alright, alright. enough jokes.”
you get a deadpanned look on your face. “oh, no. we’re dead serious marco. you’re just that hot.”
grant wraps an arm over his shoulders and starts making kissy faces at marco which he laughs at and shrugs off.
“seriously, though. where does elle get off saying that kind of shit? doesn’t she have a boyfriend?” jen asks.
“she does, indeed.” you point a fry in her direction before popping it into your mouth.
“huh,” marco says as he takes a sip of his water.
“what’s that’s supposed to mean?” you ask him.
“nothing.” he sets down his bottle. “i just didn’t know she had a boyfriend is all.”
you give him a wary look but decide to drop it for now, hoping that elle evans was behind you. and she was, until...
“you what?”
marco sighs, sinking his pool shot before standing up straight.
the two of you were at the arcade, making the most of your last day of the weekend. the arcade was mainly empty except for a mother and her two kids who turned to look at you when you shouted. you gave her an apologetic look before turning your attention back to marco.
“i felt bad. lee can’t do the competition and she really wants to enter. what was i supposed to say, no?” marco says in response.
apparently elle and lee were supposed to enter a dance dance mania competition together, but since lee sprained his ankle, elle needed a replacement partner.
you don’t say anything, simply watching as he misses his next shot.
he looks up at you when he realizes you aren’t going to respond. “why do you even care if i help her?”
you feel your face get warm but you ignore it as best as you could, setting up for your own shot. it was your first shot of the game considering you hadn’t realized he was apparently a pro at pool.
“i don’t! its just that we have a take home lab due in two weeks and i don’t want to be stuck doing it myself cause you’re off dancing with get it girl.”
you call her by her nickname solely to spite him. why did you care so much? who knows, but you enjoyed seeing marco roll his eyes at the mention of the name.
“you won’t. and hey, relax.” he says.
you shoot him a glare. “don’t tell me to relax when you’re abandoning me.”
he chuckles. “no, relax.” he nods to the pool cue in your hand which you have in a death grip.
“oh.” you didn’t realize you had been taking out your anger on the poor stick. you take a deep breath, relaxing your grip and line up your shot.
“here.” marco walks over to you, disappearing from your vision as he stands behind you.
you quietly take a sharp intake of breath as you feel his body behind yours, his hands coming around you to lightly rest on the cue, shifting it slightly.
“what are you doing?” you ask, quietly but make no move to exit his embrace.
“considering i’m three shots away from winning and you haven’t made a single one yet, i figured i could help you out a little.” he says and you can hear the smile in his voice.
“oh, shut up.” you mumble, but you don’t put any power behind your words.
marco adjusts your grip on the pool cue, lightly setting his hands over yours. his chest presses against your back and you can feel the heat radiating from his body to yours. your stomach clenches as his hand grazes yours ever so gently as he settles in. he leans forward a bit as he helps you line up your shot and you try your hardest to focus on the task at hand. but his lips are right by your ear so you feel his breath as he whispers:
“and shoot.”
you tap the ball with your pool cue, watching as your striped 10 ball rolls into the left corner pocket.
marco lifts his arms in victory and you found yourself saddened by the sudden loss of his body against yours.
“there it is!” he exclaims. “alright, next shot is all you.”
you groan playfully, trying to ignore the butterflies that have arisen in your stomach. you spend the rest of your day in the arcade before calling it quits and heading home to finish homework.
when you get home, you mull over what marco dancing with elle in the ddm competition means. you try to remind yourself that marco said things weren’t going to change now that he was helping out elle, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t going to turn out like he hoped.
and you were right.
ever since they started rehearsals, you have seen less and less of marco. he even eats lunch with her, leaving his spot across from you vacant. you saw him during ap physics but that was the only time you talked.
and as for your lab, guess who had spent the past two weeks working on it herself? everytime you called him to get him to work with you, it was always “sorry, elle and i have a practice” or “elle needs me right now.” it was as if your friendship meant nothing to him.
“alright guys, labs are due friday. i want them on my desk by the beginning of the lab period.” mr. peterson says at the end of lab on tuesday.
“oh shit, i totally forgot about that.” marco says, turning to you. “how’s—”
“it’s fine. i’m almost finished.” you cut him off, packing away your stuff without making eye contact.
“okay...” he says this with a twinge of confusion in his voice and you can feel the anger inside of you. “there’s nothing i can do?”
“i don’t know marco, why don’t you ask my dozens of phone calls and text messages i’ve sent you regarding the lab?” you lock eyes with him, angry now. “does i won’t let you do this lab alone ring a bell? or have you forgotten about that too?”
he sighs. “y/n, you know i’ve been busy. and i’m sorry. i really didn’t mean for you to do all of the work.”
your teacher clears his throat. “mr. peña, ms. y/l/n. don’t you have a class to get to?”
you look up with a smile. “yes, mr. peterson, sorry. have a good day.”
you leave the classroom without another look at marco.
and so the continuing weeks followed as such, marco spending all of his time with elle and the two of you only speaking when you had class together. there were times you tried to reach out, to be a peacemaker, but he always responded to your requests to hang out with sorry, i’m busy. next time?
to no one’s surprise, there was never a next time.
and as much as you were mad at marco for essentially ignoring your presence ever since he started dancing with elle, you couldn’t help but tune in to the competition since it was being streamed live.
“give me a second!” you call to your mom as you sit in front of your laptop and watch as elle and marco are called to the stage.
you sit through the performance, unable to help the proud feeling spreading through your body. you and marco may not have been as good of friends anymore, but you were still happy to see him thrive. even if it was a result of ignoring you for so long. your proud smile quickly drops from your face though, as you watch elle kiss marco. your eyebrows raise and you inhale a sharp intake of breath when she wraps and arm around him and pulls him closer.
you shut your laptop quickly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. you press your hands against your eyes, refusing to let the tears fall. what would they be falling for? some guy that hadn’t shown interest in you and then abandoned you when you needed help? you were better than that.
so you left it alone. you didn’t know what was going on with elle and marco and it wasn’t any of your business. you had put it past you. you and marco were still friendly, but after the kiss with elle, he seemed even more distant than usual. and you couldn’t figure out why until the night of the fundraiser.
you were walking through the carnival, looking at different booths with jen when elle ran past us, accidentally bumping into you. she turned when she noticed it was you who she had run into and you notice her red rimmed eyes.
“oh my gosh, are you okay?” you may not have been her biggest fan, but you also weren’t a bitch. it was obvious she had been crying.
“i’m really sorry. just talk to him, okay? please.” was all she said before leaving the carnival.
“what was that about?” jen asks me.
“i’m not sure...��� you say, looking after her retreating figure.
but it didn’t take long to figure out because as we walked further into the booths, we saw marco walking away from the kissing booth. with his head slightly bowed and his hands in his pockets, it was obvious he was upset about something.
you and liz exchanged a look and she raised her eyebrow at you, nodding over in his direction.
“well? go talk to him!” she shoved you forward a little bit.
you sighed, knowing that you should. you assumed that’s what elle had been talking about. so you approached him slowly, just as he reached the outside of the kissing booth crow.
“hey.”
he looked up when he heard your voice, an almost grateful look on his face, and gave you a small smile. “hey.”
“can we talk?” you asked him and he broke into a relieved smile.
“yeah, i’d like that.”
you followed him to the outskirts of the carnival where the two of you sat on a bench right outside the exit. you sat first, crossing your legs as you faced the opposite side of the bench and patted the space beside you.
marco chucked and sat down, turning to face you as well. he drummed his fingers on the back of the bench, and you noticed his knee was bouncing. he was nervous. because of this you thought you would have to guide him into conversation, but to your surprise he began with no hesitation.
“i know i owe you an apology. ditching you like that because of my stupid crush on elle was not cool, especially after promising i wouldn’t let you do all the work yourself.” you winced at that, hoping it wasn’t too visible. you had known that marco liked elle, obviously, but to hear him say it aloud still hurt. “i’m so sorry. and not only about the lab but about our friendship. you were the first people that was actually real to me when i came here and you were my best friend. i let elle get in the way of that and i feel terrible.”
he fidgeted a bit in his seat. “i know i haven’t acted like it but...i miss you. a lot. i miss our terrible labs and arcade days and having lunch with you. i miss all of it. and i know it’s my fault that none of that has been happening. i really just...want to be friends again.” he looked up at you with sad eyes and you could tell he meant it.
and as much as you appreciated his apology and his honesty, you couldn’t just let him off the hook. “you really hurt me, marco. i get it, okay? crushes can make you do crazy things, but i told you that she had a boyfriend. you knew that and you still decided that she was worth risking our friendship over. while you were off dancing with elle, i was losing my best friend.”
“i know. and i’m so sorry. you’re right, i should’ve backed off the minute you told me that. but i really thought...” his voice trailed off and he shook his head. “but it’s not. and that’s done okay? she’s made it pretty clear i’m not the one she wants. and i hate that it took this for us to finally talk again, but i really just want to get back to the way we were.”
you smiled. “i want that too. and of course i’m upset but i can’t say i wouldn’t have jumped at an opportunity to hang out with someone i liked as well.”
“so?” he looked hopeful.
you laughed and stood. “so...marco valentin peña, you are officially forgiven.”
he smiled and stood up as well, pulling you into a hug. wrapping your arms around his waist, you squeezed him tightly as he did the same to you. you stayed like that for a moment before heading back into the fair. and just like that, the two of you were good again.
over the next few weeks, you and marco started hanging out again, he returned to your lunch table, and of course the two of you screwed up more labs than you could count. and over those few weeks, marco was getting over elle and he couldn’t help but think about you. the way you said his name, how you grabbed onto him whenever you were excited about something, your kind heart, and he especially couldn’t stop thinking about when you hugged him.
due to his height, his whole body ended to engulf you hen the two of you hugged, but you loved it. and you were an affectionate hugger. he wished he was the only one who received your hugs became they always made him feel so comfortable and at home. and when you let go, there have been more than a few times when he would pull you back in saying just a little longer. and you would laugh and snuggle yourself further into his chest. and there was nothing better than that feeling.
he really liked you. and he couldn’t believe he had wasted all that time on someone already in a relationship when you were right in front of him. so one day when you were at his house studying for your upcoming physics test, he decided to short his shot. sitting beside you at the dining table, he put his notebook down and turned his attention to you.
“hey, so y/n.” he said, his voice shaking a bit.
“mm?” you said, not looking up from the flash cards you were making.
“i, uh–” he cleared his throat. “i had a question.”
“shoot.” you said, highlighting the important information in your notes that you would copy onto your flash cards.
“um, do you–i mean, would want to go out with me? like, on a date?”
you paused your highlighting and slowly turned to face him. “i thought your question was going to be about physics...”
marco let out a short laugh. “yeah, well.” he just shrugged. when you didn’t say anything else, he got nervous. “is that a no? did i just make this weird? i definitely did, didn’t i?”
now it was your turn to laugh. “no, no, it’s fine. um, i would like to go on a date with you, really.” his face lights up but then dims again at your next words. “i just–i just don’t want to be your rebound from elle.”
“i can promise you right now, that is far from what you are. elle is in the past, i promise. i really like you, and i’ve just been too much of an idiot to see it. but you are not a rebound, y/n.”
“really?” he nodded. “because i really like you, marco. like, a lot.” you laugh and so does he.
he reached across the table and took your hand in his. “well that’s good to know.”
you watched as your hands intertwined, his hand squeezing yours lightly and you smiled. you looked back up at him.
“so yes, i would love to go out with you.” you said with a grin.
“perfect.” he whispered, leaning in.
you smiled and turned your head at the last moment, so that his lips touched your cheek. you felt his lips curve into a smile against your skin and he kissed your cheek again.
“physics first.” you said when he pulled away. “we do still have a test you know.”
you slid your finished flash cards over to him and he bit his lip, shaking his head. he took them, glancing over at you again.
“since when are you all about the work?” he asked.
“since we’ve almost failed every single one of our labs and need a good grade on this test.” you said teasingly.
“touché.” marco said, tuning back to his work.
but as soon as that last definition was memorized, marco took you by the hand, leading you to the doorway from the kitchen to the living room where a mistletoe hung. the peñas had decorated the house for christmas together but you could guarantee that this one had been marco’s idea.
you could only smile as he cupped your face in his hands, leaning down to meet your lips. you stop on your tiptoes to meet him in the middle and when your lips touched you felt the butterflies burst in your stomach. this boy you’ve had a crush on liked you back and now you were kissing him under the mistletoe. the thought made you smile and marco noticed.
“what’s got you so smiley?” he murmurs against your lips.
“marco peña is kissing me.” you said in response and pressed another kiss to his lips. “what’s not to smile about?”
a/n: idk about y’all but the best friendships for me came out of science labs, they are so funny for some reason.
taglist: @devilishdior @write-from-the-heart @minnyvees @lover1307 @sonnyalice @caro1115 @psg-for-life @mansaaay @thebookwormlife
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intheticklecloset · 3 years
Text
Break You Down (Haikyuu!!)
Primary Universe
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@ticklishfanart​ I’m honored that you requested something from me! I really tried my best to bring Bokuto and Kuroo to life properly, but it’s my first fic with them in it so I apologize if it’s not perfect. Still, I hope you enjoy! ^^’
12. “Am I teasing you too much?”
18. “Aw, look at that blush! Don’t hide it.”
19. “I see that smile. Come on, laugh!”
~
“You’re getting better at anticipating Bokuto’s spikes,” Kuroo said. He was speaking to Tsukishima, who was joining them in taking a seat on the floor, water bottle in hand. Their individual practice was running longer than normal, but none of them were willing to throw in the towel just yet.
“Thanks,” Tsuki muttered as he uncapped his bottle and took a long swig. “But I’m still not convinced it will make me that much better as a player.”
“Oh, come on!” Bokuto groaned. “What more do we have to do to get it through to you?”
“Nothing. There’s simply no convincing me.”
Bokuto and Kuroo exchanged glances. The former smirked.
“Careful, Tsukishima,” Kuroo warned, smiling. “I’m pretty sure you want to be careful about challenging our friend here on something like that. He has his methods.”
“Whatever they are, I’m certain I won’t be deterred.” Tsuki leveled a look at Bokuto. “I am quite firm in my beliefs when I need to be.”
“Uh-huh.” Bokuto grinned and jammed his fingers into Tsuki’s side, making the blonde jerk in surprise. “And I’m pretty convincing when I need to be.” Silence settled over them all, and the way Tsuki was staring at Bokuto made his grin turn into a smirk again. “What’s the matter, big guy? Ticklish?”
“No.” Tsukishima straightened, frowning, but his voice had gotten quieter. “You just startled me, punching me like that.”
“I did not punch you.” Bokuto sounded offended. He reached for Tsuki’s side again, but this time the blonde was prepared. He whipped out a hand to stop him.
“Don’t.”
Kuroo chimed in again now, chuckling. “We see that blush. Don’t hide it. You can admit you’re ticklish.”
“I’m not—hey!” Tsuki growled when Bokuto tackled him to the floor, scribbling his fingers everywhere at once. The blonde curled up, punching and kicking, trying to stay in control. “Don’t touch me! Let me go!”
“Uh, Kuroo? I could use a little help over here.” Bokuto laughed at Tsuki’s attempts to roll away from him, punch him in the face, kick him where it counted, or anything else he could think of. None of it worked, however, and soon the middle blocker felt fingers close around his wrists and pull his arms above his head. When he tried to yank them away, Kuroo sat on them.
“Stop! This is harassment!” Tsuki shouted, still kicking wildly.
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Bokuto replied, scribbling his fingers in the blonde’s now exposed underarms. “This has got to be the spot, right? Nowhere else seems to make you react like I want you to.”
Tsuki bit hard on his lip to keep his growing mirth at bay, but he was helpless against the wide smile that spread across his features.
“I see that smile!” Bokuto declared triumphantly. “Come on, laugh!”
“N-No,” Tsuki tried to growl, but it came out as more of a whimper, which made his face heat up in embarrassment. He squirmed, still trying to kick Bokuto, but finally his rival seemed to have enough of that. In the next moment he was straddled, fully pinned to the floor, with his weakest spot wide open. “No!” This time it came out as a plea rather than a protest. “S-Stop! Don’t do this!”
Kuroo spoke again. “You brought this on yourself, you know. I warned you not to challenge him.”
“Why are you helping him?” Tsuki spat, feeling completely trapped and hating it. “At the very least, couldn’t you have just sat aside?”
“Not this time.” At last, Kuroo did more than just talk – he took action, leaning forward to scribble in Tsukishima’s underarms himself.
Tsuki jumped, moving whatever part of his body he could while frantically trying to hold back the mirth that was threatening to spill out of him.
“Aww, look at that blush!” Bokuto teased, scribbling his fingers over their friend’s ribs and sides while Kuroo worked on his underarms. “Come on, man, let us hear you laugh. Please?”
Tsukishima wanted to declare he’d never give them the satisfaction, but the more logical side of him told him it would be an obvious lie. He was on the edge of breaking as it was. Instead he shook his head, biting his lip so hard it hurt. “Stop,” he managed, though through his huge smile it didn’t come off as very convincing.
Kuroo sighed. “Look, we’re being gentle with you on purpose. Do you want us to tickle you harder?” When Tsuki didn’t reply fast enough, he added, “Very well. Bokuto?”
“Oh, yeah!”
In the next moment both of them had dug their fingers deep into his sides and underarms, and at last Tsukishima couldn’t hold back anymore.
“Ugh, n-nohohohohoho,” he growled through helpless giggles, twisting his head to the side, trying to hide. “Stohohohohohop!”
“No way! Not now that we’ve finally got you giggling,” Bokuto laughed, pinching up and down his sides with glee. “You dirty little liar. You said you weren’t ticklish.”
“Lehehehehet me go,” the blonde demanded, twisting as much as he could at first, but then stopping just as quickly. Moving around while he was pinned to the floor like this only served as a reminder that he was unable to go anywhere, which was a feeling he didn’t particularly enjoy. Instead he giggled more openly to make up the difference.
“Ha! This is great! Karasuno’s big, scary middle blocker has a weakness, Kuroo!”
“Don’t get too cocky,” Kuroo shot back playfully. “You’re ticklish, too, in case you forgot.”
“Dude, don’t take this away from me.”
Tsuki had no idea what to do to get out of this. He didn’t know what they wanted from him, other than to admit he was actually learning things that would help him play volleyball better, perhaps. “Stohohohohop it. You’ve mahahahade your pohohohoint, now lehehehet me go already.”
“Don’t you ever laugh?” Bokuto asked, slipping his hands under Tsuki’s shirt to dig into his bare skin. “Come on, even you’ve got to have something that breaks you down.”
For reasons he couldn’t explain, hearing those words flustered Tsukishima immensely. He could feel his face heating up again. “Nohohohoho, I dohohohohohon’t. Lehehehehet me go.”
“Kuroo,” Bokuto whined, “try something different! I want to hear him laugh before we let him go. You’ve got the spot that made him break the first time.”
“I dihihihid not break,” Tsuki protested, but right at that moment Kuroo began to knead into his underarms with deadly precision, and his body reacted entirely on its own, jolting sharply while a sound that was suspiciously close to what Bokuto was hoping for escaped his lips without permission. “Gah!” Crap, crap, crap! “S-Stohohohohop it already, please, let me gohohoHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!”
Both Bokuto and Kuroo’s eyes lit up, and again they exchanged glances with each other, grinning widely. Victory was theirs.
“Aww, your laugh is so fun, Tsuki!”
“It is a nice change of pace from you.”
“STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” Tsuki screeched, giving up any last shred of hope he’d had of remaining in control and resorting instead to giving them what they wanted. “PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!”
“But why? Isn’t this more fun than practicing?” Bokuto beamed, resuming his side-pinching method from before. He chuckled. “Your laugh is contagious!”
Tsuki writhed. “LEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHET ME GO!! I MEHEHEHEHEHEAN IT!!”
Again Bokuto giggled. “Why? Are we teasing you too much?”
“We?” Kuroo challenged. “I’m doing no teasing.”
“You gotta work with me here, man.”
“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE, LET ME GOHOHOHOHOHO!!” Tsuki cried, sounding desperate now. “PLEASE!! I GIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIVE UP!! YOU WIHIHIHIN, OKAHAHAHAY?! JUST STOHOHOHOHOP!!”
Sensing genuine distress, both of the other boys let him go, climbing off of him and helping him sit up.
“That was great, Tsuki,” Bokuto said before the blonde could yell at him. “Seriously, hearing you laugh like that was the best part of my entire day.”
“It was pretty great,” Kuroo agreed. “Are you okay?”
Tsukishima had a million things he wanted to say right now. He wanted to yell at them, but then he didn’t, really. He wanted to punch them, but then he didn’t. He wanted to tell them he’d hated it, but…
“Just promise me something,” he said at last, his voice back to its normal, serious tone. He turned to look at them both. “Don’t tell anyone else. Please.”
“Aww, really?” Bokuto whined, pouting. “But it was so much fun—”
Kuroo smacked him, then turned to Tsuki. “I promise I won’t tell anyone what happened here today. Bokuto?”
“Ugh, fine,” Bokuto groaned. “I promise, too. But come on – didn’t you have any fun at all?”
Tsukishima grabbed his water bottle and stood up, walking toward the gym doors. He was done for the night. But before he’d left them entirely, he stopped and turned to look back at them, at their expectant – and somewhat anxious – faces. “It’s not something I prefer, but it could have been worse, I suppose. Good night.” Then he slipped outside.
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