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#Tell your girlfriend her hands are pretty she’ll die
adabear · 10 months
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I wrote a supercorp ficlet about hands because I’m gay gay homo gay I’ve never written fiction that wasn’t a comic before shut UP (I’m embarrassed)
hands
“You have such pretty hands.” Kara held Lena’s hands, open, small, and pale on top of her own. Lena’s hands were elegant, long fingered, with carefully maintained nails (black today) splayed out for Kara’s careful gaze. The kryptonian closed her grasp around Lena, just a little, and ran a careful thumb down the interior of her middle finger. A callous, from holding a pen maybe. And there, on her thumb was a flat, silver scar, so small you could miss it. 
“I was nine. Playing with a soldering gun,” Lena helpfully supplied, the promise of a laugh in her voice. 
Kara closed her hands around Lena’s fully, weaving their fingers together and wiggling their joined fists playfully. A little squeeze. She’d held Lena’s hand before, plenty of times. She knew them like- well like the back of her own hand. But things had felt a little… different lately. They had lunches, and game nights, and movie sleepovers. They’d always had those. But something about them lately seemed significant. A little more important. Kara couldn’t really explain how it just. It just was. 
It was silly really, a quick movement, playful affection between friends when suddenly Kara found herself unable to resist drawing Lena’s pale knuckles to her lips and kissing them. Giggly, chaste little pecks that made Kara’s chest feel so full she had to drop Lena’s hands back in their laps, and laugh, and hide her face behind her own journalist’s palms. She heard Lena laughing too but couldn’t look. 
“Sorry! Sorry, having a silly day. I’ve been thinking about going back to Catco and I’ve been writing all these articles because when I ask for my job back I want to have something good and I’m just,” Kara paused, finally coming out from hiding. “I’m being goofy,” she laughed, cheeks rosy, finally looking Lena in the eye.
And oh… she had expected Lena to be laughing at her antics too, or maybe picking at the half finished salad left by the demolished remains of Kara’s own lunch. Instead, Lena was giving her one of those looks. Those significant looks, the kind that made their time together feel so important lately. Her gaze, so green, was open and warm and just so, so fond. It sent something crackly and electric ping ponging around in Kara’s chest. She wanted to look away, to hide again, felt her face burning so hot it ached in the tips of her ears, but Lena didn’t look away. Instead, the promise of a smile tugged at her vermillion lips. Kara’s breath caught in her chest.
And Lena looked down. The broken gaze was permission to breathe again. Kara huffed out another little giggle and looked down too, relieved and disappointed that whatever that was had ended. The tingle of adrenaline slowly dwindled down to her fingertips. 
Kara watched Lena run her own pointer down the back of tanned, strong hands. 
“You have pretty hands too,” Lena murmured. And oh no. The buzzing crackle in Kara’s chest roared back to life. She didn’t dare look up, watching Lena’s black nail trace each finger from knuckle to tip with a featherlight touch. Out and back again, a careful, tactile observation.
“You think? I dunno I guess I never thought about them you know they’re just my hands so I see them everyday and-“ Lena stopped Kara’s babbling by turning her wrist, splaying both of Kara’s hands palm up. Why was THAT so affecting?
“Th-they-“ A false start. Oh jeez. The blonde watched Lena knead the pad of her thumb into Kara’s palms, gently massaging them. “I almost wish I could get scars sometimes, you know? Your hands have a story to them but mine are just boring old h-hands!” 
Kara knew her voice was steadily rising in pitch but found herself entirely unable to control it. The brunette had moved on to squeezing each digit delicately and oh Kara would not have expected that to feel so nice. The little buzzy feeling in Kara’s chest was growing, sizzle hot and ticklish, and she felt she might burst. 
“I like them,” Lena said simply, raising Kara’s palms to her face. The Kryptonian watched the motion, utterly dumbstruck, until their eyes met over their shared grasp. Kara froze, held in place by a gaze as effective as Kryptonite. Lena’s eyes were half-lidded, laughing, her lips upturned in a fond, lazy smile. Like she knew exactly what these moments were, where they were going, like she savored lingering in them. 
Kara had a half a second’s notice to realize what was about to happen. A warm breath gusted, ticklish, across the pulse point in her wrist. Lena broke their gaze, eyelashes fluttering low over her cheeks as the brunette looked down. And pressed a single, lingering kiss to the heel of Kara’s hand. 
Something like a squeak must have come out of Kara’s mouth because suddenly Lena was laughing. She returned the superhero’s limp hands to her own lap. Kara found herself flushed and a little miffed. Utterly incapacitated by green eyes and careful fingers. Oh Rao. 
“Are you alright, darling?” Lena laughed, blessedly turning back to her salad so that the blonde could begin the process of returning to her body. 
Kara struggled for only a moment before squeaking, embarrassed and affectionate, “You’re teasing me!!” 
At that, Lena only smiled, unapologetic.
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chuunai · 5 months
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fem girlfriend dazai ! who is whipped for you. her heart can’t contain all the love she feels for you, her darling belladonna. the one who she clings to nonstop and covers in lipstick marks. kunikida doesn’t approve of it at the office, but she sure does. besides, sitting on your lap and burying her face in your tits is way nicer than documents that atsushi can do.
fem girlfriend dazai ! who clasps your hand openly as you two walk home from the office, whining about how ‘boring’ and ‘horrible’ it was without you when she had to go on a solo mission. the chime of a door opening as you two buy canned crab for dinner because your girlfriend can’t cook and neither can you. her voice calling out to you as she begs you to buy some shitty matching couple’s shirt. you’re too broke to buy it, so you go home.
fem girlfriend dazai ! who lazes around on the couch staring at you as you make a makeshift meal of canned crab, sake and some random vegetables. her lap is your seat—no other option is available. she always steals your food, it’s practically impossible to eat by yourself at this rate. imagine trying to eat a snack in your closet, only to feel her hands come out from nowhere and take your food because turns out she was in the closet too!
fem girlfriend dazai ! who helps you clean dishes afterwards, seeing the suds gather on both your hands as she playfully bumps her hip against yours. drying both the dishes and your hands off as she nibbles on your ear for fun. although the sight of your skin wet with water has got her prepping her tongue muscles for a long night.
fem girlfriend dazai ! who happily spends a night between your thighs, lips wrapped around your clit as her fingers knead at your thighs and hips. death by suffocation of your thighs is a great way to die. her last meal, too—the way her tongue licks a long stripe up your pretty cunt, juices coating her chin. it doesn’t matter how many times you’ve came already, you can give her just ‘one more’
fem girlfriend dazai ! who eventually gives you mercy, wiping off the mess between your legs with a towel before snuggling up to you. she’s always been too tired for proper aftercare, but she doesn’t hold back from cuddles and kisses. telling you about how good you were, her head nestled on your chest. her pretty girl makes her heart beat so much and fast.
fem girlfriend dazai ! who watches you drift off to sleep, her insomnia keeping her up. watching how your chest rises and fall with each breath you take, the gentle murmur of her name—‘osamu’—slipping out as you dream. probably about her. she wouldn’t blame you, though. she’s irresistible, yet you’re so out of her league.
fem girlfriend dazai ! who wonders why you picked her as your girlfriend. in her opinion, you could’ve had anyone, yet you picked her fucked up self. the weight of her past and all that it means for the future. god, you’re too good for her. she’s not good enough to put a ring on your finger. not good enough to wake up next to you every morning as you smile and kiss her. but she’s too attached to leave. ever.
fem girlfriend dazai ! who ultimately decides to sleep, eyelids slowly closing. it’s been two years already, you and her. the relationship. maybe soon, she’ll be good enough to take you to that one park nearby—with the pretty pond and tulips and roses—where she’ll get down on one knee, pulling out a box and asking that dreaded yet needed question.
fem girlfriend dazai ! who can’t bear to not be yours.
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upat4amwiththemoon · 8 months
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hi! saw that your requests are open and if you want to could you write a fic with amelia shepard x reader. kind of a mental health fic where reader is struggling (depression or something) and either amelia and reader are a couple or reader is someone coming into the ER (or something else) but either way amelia decides to help R and eventually they become a couple (if they’re not already). i hope you understand what i mean?
anyway, thank you!
i’ll die anyway.
Summary: It’s still hard to find reasons to stay alive.
Pairing: Amelia Shepherd x female!reader
Warnings: depression
Word count: 824
a/n: Amelia Shepherd please cure my mental illnesses <3
masterlists | guidelines
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Even though Amelia is oftentimes busy with her work, being the self proclaimed best neurosurgeon, she still makes time for her girlfriend, who unlike her, doesn’t have such a mess of a schedule. However, she just came to the realization that date nights haven’t happened in a while. She really hasn’t properly seen Y/N in a while.
Which is why, after arriving back home, Amelia’s first mission is to find Y/N. She goes up the stairs, towards their shared bedroom, still wearing her scrubs. She frowns as she steps into the room. No one is there. It’s dark and the bed is messy, which indicates Y/N has been there recently.
The sound of water hits her ears. Amelia knocks on the door opposite of their bedroom, trying to open it, but it’s mocked. “Y/N?” She calls out, growing worried at the silence coming from the other side. “Are you okay in there?” There’s slight humor to her voice, but it’s only there to mask her anxiety.
A quiet yeah comes from the other side of the door, but it doesn’t ease Amelia.
“You think you could open the door for me?” It takes a while, but eventually Amelia can hear the soft clink of the lock. She opens the door carefully, only peeking her head in first. When she sees fully clothes Y/N sitting under the running shower, she steps in the room fully, closing the door behind her so the warmth of the water wouldn’t escape. “What are you doing?” She has a gentle smile on her face as she kneels near Y/N. She recognizes the look in her eyes.
“I think I’m getting sick.” She whispers. Water droplets are getting all over her eyes and mouth, but she doesn’t seem to care.
“Sick?” Amelia shuts the shower off, getting no reaction from Y/N. She sets the back of her hand to her girlfriend’s wet forehead. “You don’t feel warm.” She states quietly.
Y/N hums. Her hands are hidden in the sleeves of the hoodie she’s wearing. It’s oversized, one of her favorites, mostly because it’s technically Amelia’s hoodie. Her eyes are unfocused, so she rarely blinks, only when water slides over her eyes.
“Maybe getting out of the wet clothes would help?” Amelia’s tone makes the sentence sound like a question, but it’s more of a request, as she is already helping Y/N up before she has a chance to answer. She leads her into the bedroom, not caring about the trail of water dripping to the floors. “I’m going to get you some clothes, okay?”
Amelia starts looking through their wardrobe, picking the coziest looking clothes for the both of them. She helps Y/N out of the wet clothes and into the clean ones before she changes out of her scrubs.
“Have you eaten today?” She’s pretty sure she already knows the answer, and it worries her, since she had a ten hour shift today. Y/N shakes her head, confirming Amelia’s fears. “Okay, I’m going to order us some food.”
After leading Y/N to the bed, she picks up her phone and orders the food that’ll arrive to their house the quickest. She sets her phone back down, making sure it’s not silenced so she’ll hear when their food arrives.
She sits down next to Y/N, leaning her bad against the backboard, she pulls Y/N’s back into her chest. “Can you tell me how you’re feeling?” Amelia pulls the covers over them before wrapping her arms around Y/N.
She sighs, slowly leaning the side of her head against Amelia’s. “I don’t know.” She whispers, her voice slightly wobbly. “I don’t feel anything but I’m feeling everything at the same time. It’s like I’m stuck in a hole and I can’t scream for help.” Taking a shaky breath, her voice turns almost too quiet for Amelia to hear, “it feels like it doesn’t matter if I’m dead or alive.”
“Maybe we could go meet up with a psychotherapist together tomorrow?”
Y/N hesitates. Asking for, or receiving help has never been something she can do easily. “I don’t think it’s that big of a deal.”
“But it is.” Amelia states in a way that leaves no room for arguments. “Mental health needs to be always taken seriously.”
Emotions mull through Y/N’s body. She feels guilty and bad for letting Amelia see, for making her worry, that’s not what she wants. She feels like going to psychotherapy would mame it worse, it’d solidify the fact there’s something wrong with her.
Amelia’s embrace turns tighter, bringing Y/N back to the present. Her hands have started shaking, she didn’t notice. “You don’t have to decide now.” Amelia whispers into her ear. “We’ll think and talk about later, okay?” Y/N nods, letting herself relax for now as she lays on her girlfriend, and tries to forget her worries.
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boldlyvoid · 3 years
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Wheels Up
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Characters: Spencer Reid, Reader (Y/N), Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Savannah Hayes, Emily Prentiss, Elle Greenaway, Tara Lewis, Jennifer Jareau, Matt Simmons, Luke Alvez
Summary: JJ goes on maternity leave, Spencer falls in love with her replacement that he's supposed to be mentoring, Emily Prentiss and Elle Greenaway work a case together that brings Simmons and Alvez in for help...
Warnings: Genius!Reader, mutual pining, idiots in love, drinking, star gazing, lots of fluff, mentions of past assault, grooming, drug addiction, spencer's trauma, Abductions, Rape, Murder (typical canon violence)
word count: 9.4K
a/n: this is for @starry-eyed-spence and @simmonsmilf CM fanfiction week, Day One: Favorite Character... only I couldn't pick just one.
To say Spencer fell in love at the least opportune time was a bit of an understatement. Everyone he’s ever come close to admitting his love to has either left him or died. Now he’s stuck with loving someone in secret, keeping it to himself and hoping that one day she’ll love him back.
He fell in love with a co-worker once again… which wasn’t the worst thing, office romances happen and it’s quite frankly all Rossi’s fault that they even had to worry about fraternization policies. The part that makes liking Y/N so difficult is that he’s supposed to be her mentor, he’s 5 years older than her, and if he was to ever make a move she would feel inclined to reciprocate in order to keep her job because that’s the unfortunate truth behind office relationships with significant differences in positions.
And worst of all… she doesn’t like him that way at all. She’s called him the brother she always needed, a best friend, the best mentor ever. She wasn’t interested in him in the slightest.
“And why would she be?” He’s said this to everyone who knew about his crush on her. “I’m old and boring and she’s so cool?”
But he didn’t get it. He didn’t understand that every time she asked him to hang back to help her file something, or when they would buddy up in hotel rooms to discuss cases all night and end up down some star trek rabbit hole instead, every time he talked to her she was falling in love with him right back.
It once again all circles back to Rossi, if it wasn’t for him, Spencer wouldn’t even know her. She wouldn’t have ever been introduced to the unit, he wouldn’t be attached to her at the hip and he probably wouldn’t be as happy as he is with her in his life. Even if she wasn’t his girlfriend.
He’ll never forget the day Rossi asked him to meet her, to help her settle in…
“Spencer, can I talk to you for a minute?” Rossi called him into his office.
He sighed, putting his book down and walking up the stairs to his office. He closed the door behind himself and smiled awkwardly, “what’s up?”
“Sit,” he gestures to the chairs in front of his desk, where Spencer pulls one out and proceeds to sit down, anxiously. “As you know, both Kate and JJ will be out of the field in the next few months to have their babies and we need to bring someone in to fill the void until they return, so I reached out to the academy to see if they have any up and coming Dr. Reid like agents that they could loan us.”
“Why?” Spencer laughs at the choice of words.
“Well, honestly, why get new 2 agents when we could have two Reid’s? JJ will be back after a month or 2, it’s better to have more brains than brawn.”
“So they found someone and you want me to be their chaperone?” Spencer clues in. “Who are they?”
“Y/N Y/L/N, she’s a wonderful agent, but she’s pretty quiet, I don’t know much about her personally.” Rossi prefaces. “She’s a genius, high IQ like yours and just a plethora of knowledge inside that mind of hers. You’ll like her.”
“Alright,” he nods. “When do they start?”
“When JJ’s water breaks, but I’d like you to meet them and maybe even have them shadow you for a day?” Rossi asks, “I’ve actually arranged for you both to get dinner at a friend's restaurant?”
“Is this an arranged date or purely business? Don’t send me in there blind,” he worries. “I need at least a week's prep before I go on a date again.”
“It’s not a date, kid,” Rossi laughs. “She's just a lot like you were when I met you, and I know from watching you all these years that it’s not easy to do it alone, so can you just walk them through it?”
“Of course.”
That first dinner Rossi set up for them was more exquisite than either of them prepared for.
They spent the whole night discussing dissertations and their independent journeys through becoming a genius. He understood perfectly why Rossi and the Academy would think she was a lot like him, she was a genius, but she was awkward. It took a while for her to break out of her shell and open up, but by the end of the night, he already knew they were going to be friends.
“So,” she smirks, “would you mind telling me honestly how hard this job is?”
“Why?”
She sighs, “I’ve heard a lot about Thee Doctor Reid and how you were the youngest hired to the BAU and all the shit you’ve been through.”
“What are the rumours these days?” He awkwardly smiles back, rolling his eyes slightly.
“That you were brain dead in a cemetery from an overdose and yet you’re so smart you came back from the dead to kill the unsub and escape…” she looks more and more disappointed in the rumour as she tells it.
His tongue hits the roof of his mouth as he opens it to speak, making a tsk noise as he shakes his head. “Well, I did OD but it was the unsubs main personality that resuscitated me.”
“Holy shit,” she whispers.
He nods, “what about you? I’m sure you have a reputation based on a rumour?”
She presses her lips together the way he always did, just as awkward. She sighs, huffing the air out of her nose and looking fed up. “I was groomed and assaulted by an older boy who then told kids I had a stalkerish crush on him so if I was to ever tell anyone what happened, then no one would believe me.”
“I’m so sorry,” Spencer knows the words don’t make up for what happened. “I’m guessing that’s why you wanted to get into profiling?”
She nods, “I got away with some PTSD and trust issues, most girls go through much worse… they deserve someone who gets it to look into their cases.”
Spencer nods. “That’s how I felt after my kidnapping too. It took a while for me to look at crime scene photos and not think about how they felt, and wonder why I lived when so many die?”
“I’ve never been a religious person,” she prefaces. “But I do believe we are here for a reason. Whether you choseto be here after your last life or this is some learning opportunity, or God is actually real? And you’re supposed to do good.”
“In narcotics anonymous, they reference god a lot, it’s helpful for the addicts, but I never get into it,” he opens up with her more than he’s ever opened up with any friend. “If my Devine purpose is to suffer in order to relate to those I’m supposed to help that’s a load of bullshit… honestly, I can get pretty angry thinking about why I’ve gone through what I’ve gone through doing this job, but it’s not as bad as what happened to me growing up, and it leads me to believe that I probably wouldn’t have had an easy time no matter how I live.”
She nods, “I know, I get that.”
“Sorry,” he snaps out of it. “I didn’t mean to trauma dump on you.”
“It’s exactly what I asked for actually,” she reminds him with a soft smile. “If you can still come to work every day, after all that, you must be incredibly strong— and if I’m anything like you the way people say I am, I guess I can do it too.”
He had no idea she would end up being his best friend.
She shadowed him just once in the office, picked up everything right off the bat and immediately made a name for herself in the unit. Derek tried multiple names on her before one stuck, and they knew it stuck when even Hotch called her Baby Genius.
She brought a different knowledge base to the team, similar to Spencers but visibly younger. She fit in with the crowds of kids they had to interview, she understood why kids reacted the way they did to trauma and abuse, and she was still a kid at heart. It was the reason Spencer fell for her.
She allowed him to feel free again. They went out together outside of work, going to events he always wanted to go to with a partner but never had a chance. She loved all the same things as him, and she takes him to places he’d never imagine enjoying before her.
Like laser tag… that was an afternoon he’ll never forget with her.
When JJ went into labour, that’s when Y/N started full time and Hotch hired Tara Lewis in the same week. The team barely had time to adjust to being undermanned before they were restocked.
Joining Spencer every morning for every case, she waited out front of her apartment for him to pick her up most mornings, sticking to his side throughout the long days and nights until he drove her home again. Even at work, they were partnered up for everything: heading to the M.E. together, bouncing facts back and forth at the precinct, playing good cop bad cop with perverts, and her personal favourite… Making the geoprofile.
And Spencer liked doing that part with her as well. Because it typically meant they were completely alone in a room, spreading out a map and leaning in close to each other as they placed every sticker and marker. Brushing hands, bumping shoulders, longing glances as they made connections… he also just liked to watch her hands move.
She was delicate and careful and precise… and he was falling in love with everything about her as the days went by.
Everyone on the team had noticed. It was really hard not to when they’ve all known Spencer for almost 11 years now. He was so different with her in his life, he was happy and giddy and dressing even better than before. His hair was perfect and he was glued to Y/N’s side. Or she was glued to his.
Even though they were mentally similar, physically they were polar opposites. Y/N wore all black and was a lot more outgoing than they expected. Rossi thought she’d be quiet… But she was constantly talking. To Spencer, to other officers, to witnesses, she never stopped talking and starting conversations, and thank god she did because she’s cracked 4 cases that way.
The biggest surprise the team learned about her happened on a case in Florida, a shooting in a local park in broad daylight with lots of witnesses meant the whole team was on the boardwalk asking questions. She went out to do her thing, talking to the local skaters, asking them if they knew anything but they didn’t want to cooperate.
They were too cool for the feds.
“Can I see your board?” She asks, “if I do some tricks will you answer some questions for me and Doctor Reid?”
“Knock yourself out,” one of the boys laughs as he hands her his board.
She hands Spencer her gun and shoots him a wink before taking off to do a few tricks. The whole team watches in awe then as Y/N showed off. Cruising along the halfpipe effortlessly like she was a professional.
“Okay Tony Hawk,” Morgan teases her, “where did that come from?”
“Skateboarding is easy, it’s just physics,” she shrugs. “I can figure skate too…”
“What do you want to know?” The boy takes his board back. “We always see some sketchy guys around here.”
Morgan pats Y/N on the back with a smile, applauding her ability to get anyone to open up before leaving her to take the statement.
“Agent?” One of the girls pulls her aside just before they are about to leave, “how did you do that kickflip? I’ve been trying to learn and the boys won't help me.”
“Sure thing,” she takes the girl's board and demonstrates a kickflip first.
“So, you see as I start the kickflip I bend my knees?” She shows her another kickflip all while explaining it. “Much like the with an ollie, I’m building pressure so I can apply it to the tail, making the board pop. The one thing that makes this trick different from the ollie is that instead of sliding my foot up, I just flick my toe out to the right of the board, by doing this, the board flips in a 360-degree motion.
She demonstrates again and it’s another flawless kickflip, and a huge smile on her face as Spencer watches her.
“How fast the board spins depends on how much force I put into it when I flick it out. As soon as the board flips in a full 360, your feet should connect and drive the board back to the ground.”
She hands the board back to the girl, “your turn.”
She takes a deep breath and shakes her nerves out before taking off on her board, looping around and carefully bending her knees, she follows every step and it’s a flawless kickflip.
“Flawless!!” Y/N claps. “Those boys better watch out, you’re a natural.”
“Thank you,” she wraps her arms around Y/N and gives her a hug, “it’s taken me so long to be able to do that, you’re so cool.”
“You’re welcome,” she smiles. “Good luck out there.”
She waves as she takes off on her board, leaving Y/N with a smile as she turns to Spencer. “I miss being that age and thinking everything is so cool.”
“You are really cool,” he agrees. Smiling softly as a blush fills his cheeks. “You’re always surprising me. Is there anything you can’t do?”
She laughs, “yeah the one thing I want to do the most.”
“Which is?”
She sighs, “maybe I’ll tell you someday.”
He’s sitting beside Penelope and Savannah, watching Derek and Y/N get drinks for what’s left of the group as the night drags on.
“When are you going to tell her?” Savannah asks.
“What?” Spencer pretends he doesn’t know what she’s talking about.
“You have a crush on the new girl…” she pokes his cheek as he blushes and gives it away. “Tell her, what’s the worst that can happen?”
“She could feel forced to say yes because I’m a supervisory special agent and she isn’t and she wants to keep her job so she feels like she needs to,” Spencer worries. “I want her to like me back because she fell for me and I want her to initiate it because then I’ll know it’s not just a power dynamic issue.”
“Have you tried asking her, genius?” Penelope teases. “Because if you asked her then you’d know she has a crush on you and she’s afraid you’ll turn her down because you’re an SSA and she isn’t.”
“When did you hear that?”
Penelope pretends to lock up her lips and throw away the key, making Savannah laugh loud enough to get Derek's attention at the bar. When he and Y/N return, that’s when the questions start.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” Spencer gets up and leaves the booth, walking out towards the smokers' exit at the back of the bar, getting a moment of semi-fresh air to think about what Penelope said.
“Spence?” She calls to him from the door, “are you okay? Can I come out here?”
“Yeah,” he nods. “Sorry, I needed some air, it’s nothing.”
“Do you need a hug? I read it helps the most when people are stressed out,” she plays it off with a shrug.
“So you do have a crush on me?”
“She told you?” Her face lights with fury, “what the fuck, Penelope?”
“She didn’t mean to,” he tries to cover it up. “It was only brought up because I have feelings for you as well.”
Her eyes widen, her brows raise and her mouth slowly opens as she freezes.
“Y/N?”
She blinks a few times and shakes her head, “impossible. There’s no way.”
He laughs, “I’ll take that hug now?”
She lunges for him and wraps her arms around him so tight. Breathing him in, her hands wander his back as she takes in every second if it and he does the same. He can’t believe she’s that close to him, her hair smells nice and she’s so soft in his arms.
It’s quiet outside, they can hear the music behind the door, the people in the ally talking and the crickets in the night. It’s just them outside, holding each other in the smoking section with smiles on their faces, amazed that it’s finally happening.
“Can we keep this between us?” She whispers into his ear. “Just for a bit? I don’t want to go through all the paperwork and have to separate in the field if it doesn’t work out?”
“Wait,” Spencer pulls back. “Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”
She nods, “well yeah isn’t that what happens when two people have a mutual crush? They date?”
“Okay,” he smiles, staring at her lips and then flicking his gaze back to hers with a blush. “I have more than a crush on you, I really, really like you.”
“Prove it,” she teases, “let's go on a real date soon?”
“You know what, let’s get out of here. I have something I want to show you,” he takes her hand and waits for her to nod.
“Take my lead okay? You don’t feel good and you’re going to wait outside while I say goodbye,” she has a plan right away
“After you,” he holds the door open for her and lets her inside first.
“I’m taking Spencer home, he’s not doing well,” she’s a much better actress than Spencer expected, patting his back and watching him leave the bar before her like she asked him to do. “He’s really anxious?”
Penelope looks worried, “oh no, I fucked up. I told him you like him.”
She just shrugs, “if he didn’t know that already then I guess he’s not as smart as he pretends to be.”
“See,” Derek looks at Savannah. “I told you everyone else also thinks he’s faking being that smart.”
“Shut up,” she shoves him and turns her attention back to Y/N. “Go make him feel better, he’ll like your company.”
“I’ll see you guys at work on Monday,” she waves them goodbye, surprised they bought it as she rushes her way back outside to Spencer.
He’s already in his car, engine running and waiting for her with a smile. “Come on,” he hurries her inside and is taking off down the road before she even has her seatbelt on yet.
“What’s the rush, Spence? It’s only 1 in the morning I’m sure tones of places are open still?” She teases.
“You’re going to like this, I used to go here all the time when I started with the bureau,” he explains, leaving the main road to take a back root, and eventually they’re driving on gravel.
“If you’re taking me here to murder me this is a dumb way to do it because they all know I left with you,” she teases. “At least when you go to get rid of me, do yourself a favour and dig 6 one-foot holes instead of one 6 foot hole…”
He laughs, “would you really give your murderer tips?”
She nods, “my goal would be to piss him off so much he either lets me go or murders me quickly. I don’t want to go through all the pain.”
“It’s not fun, that’s for sure,” he shrugs it off but she knows it hits too hard.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, reaching her hand out for his to hold by the gear shift. “I think you’re like the strongest guy in the world, you know that, right?”
“Why?” He asks as if that's a preposterous thing to say.
“I think if I got kidnapped and tortured at 24 I wouldn’t still be working in the FBI,” she admits. “I barely made it through the academy, I know this job is intense but I don’t think I could handle being in that situation.”
“If it’s up to me,” Spencer squeezes her hand tighter and brings it to his lips for a kiss. “You’ll never experience anything like that.”
He’s so good at making her feel safe that she almost believes he has the power to do that. He would do anything and everything to move fate for her safety.
He turns down another back road then, around the edge of a lake and towards a clearing. He follows old tire tracks and parks by the dock. “I found this spot one night on a random drive to clear my head.”
“I thought you hated driving?” She quizzes him.
He shrugs, “I like to drive at night when no one else is on the road because then I don’t really have to worry about anyone else. I hate driving because I can’t always anticipate other drivers' movements. If I could read minds, then I’d drive more.”
“Valid,” she nods, “now why is this such a special spot that you needed to show me right away?”
“Well, I have a telescope and it’s been in my trunk for the last 13 years so that every time I come here, I can look up at the moon…”
“You brought me here to look at the moon with you?” She swoons, “that’s so cute.”
“You think?” He looks like his heart is doing the same swelling as hers.
She gets out of the car before she can lean over and kiss him the way she wants to. In his trunk, he does have a telescope, and a blanket, which they set out on the dock and sit upon.
The sound of the lake, the loons in the distance, frogs and crickets and music travelling from somewhere down the lake. The moon was big, the stars were amazing, and this was the closest she has ever seen them. It's amazing, and of course, it was Spencer showing her everything.
He was everything to her.
And it didn’t take long for him to become everything to her either.
Joining the BAU was a dream to many at the academy, but Y/N never thought that she would get the job, overjoyed that she did. They were a family unit; they got the job done, they protected each other, and it was a wonderful environment to be a part of. She obviously liked Spencer the most out of everyone. He took her in, he made her feel comfortable and safe and she opened up more with him than she has with anyone she’s labelled a “best friend” in the past.
She liked everything about him. The way he talked with his hands, how his sweater, vest, shirt and tie always match, his gun looks a little out of place on his belt, like it’s too big for him, but it’s cute. His hair’s been getting longer too, sometimes he wears glasses and sometimes if she’s lucky, he doesn’t shave every day.
She can’t take her eyes off him when he’s busy and won't notice, just to then move her focus away when he stared at her. She only wishes she could see the way he stares at her in awe, because if it’s anything like how she looks at him, he must love her.
She keeps her hand in his, trading the telescope back and forth in turns, her face was close to his every time they switched and she kept getting bolder with each exchange. Letting Spencer look, she kept her face close to his, kissing his cheek softly as soon as he was busy peering up at the moon.
He turned to her with a gasp, “what was that for?”
“You’re cute,” she shrugs. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while.”
“How long?” He teases, leaning in closer and kissing her nose to make her laugh.
“Since you dropped me off at my house after that first dinner…”
“So this is me,” she nods out the window, “thank you for the ride, I appreciate not having to be in an Uber all by myself.”
“Anytime you need a ride, you can give me a call?” He asks. “Seeing as we’ll be going to the same place anyway.”
She nods with a smile, “I’d love that, do you live close to here?”
“Just up the street,” he nods. “So we could carpool?”
“I can drive some days if you want?” She asks, “I know you mostly take the subway, and I know that because I’ve seen you reading on there before.”
He can’t help but smile, “so you never thought to say hello?”
“No,” she shakes her head, “you looked peaceful, and I’m sure you don’t get many moments like that in your line of work.”
He sighed, knowing she was right. “If it ever gets to be too much for you, please never feel like you have to pretend to be okay? None of us expect you to be stone cold, none of us are either. The job gets to us, just tell me if it gets to be too much?”
She looks from his lips back to his eyes and over again, “thanks, Spencer.”
He does the same to her, “anytime. Should I walk you to your door?”
She shakes her head, “that’s okay you’ve done enough for me tonight.”
“Fair enough,” he laughs. “Have a good night Y/N.”
“You too, Spencer,” she smiles before she exits his car, smiling at him from her porch before he drives away.
“So it’s been mutual this whole time?” He shakes his head at the absurdity. “I’ve been so lonely for so long and then I found you and you make me feel like I don’t need to be alone anymore.”
“You complete me too,” she makes one more comment before connecting their lips.
It’s like the world stops then. It’s silent and serene and everything she thought kissing Spencer Reid would be.
She pulls back with a smirk, “oh no.”
“What?” He worries.
“I’m going to want to kiss you all the time now…”
“Good,” he mumbles the words against her lips before reconnecting them.
At work on Monday, it’s very hard for them to look at each other without remembering that they’ve kissed. Spencer’s practically glowing with admiration for her that he gives it all away. He’s overly happy, offering to do things for others, standing way too close to her and bringing her coffee all morning.
“Okay, pretty boy,” Derek takes him by the scruff of the neck and redirects him into his office. “What’s going on with you today, I know you’re not this happy for JJ’s return?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you get laid or something?”
Spencer laughs, “no, you know I don’t get laid. You actually remind me of that fact quite often.”
“You’re so happy I’m worried you’ve moved to crack,” he says it. “Okay, you were acting weird on Friday, you missed brunch on Sunday and now you’re waaay too happy.”
“I’m not on drugs again,” Spencer assures him. “I’m just letting myself enjoy my time with Y/N, if she falls in love with me in the meantime that would also be nice.”
“Oh, so you’re doing this to get laid,” Derek teases him again. “That’s good, I’m sorry if I triggered you by asking, but I had to make sure you’re okay.”
“No, no,” he places his hands on Derek's shoulders, “thank you for caring.”
“Always—“
“Guys!” They hear Hotch yelling from the bullpen, cutting the tender moment short, saving Spencer from spilling the truth.
Rushing back, he sits beside Y/N at the briefing room table. “We have a bad one,” Emily Prentiss of all people walks in the door, followed by Elle Greenaway.
“We’ll have time to mingle in a minute, right now there is a woman who needs our help,” he announces.
Spencer quickly reads over the case files, recognizing Elles handwritten notes, she was a private investigator now. “With Penelope’s help, I’ve been able to set up alerts in College chatrooms in the area so that I can help to missing and assaulted women right away.”
“She’s alerted when someone reports a missing woman and she has advertisements for people to reach out to her for help,” Penelope explained.
“I’ve been working on these cases for the last 9 years,” Elle announces. “This morning Aasia Desai called me saying her sister Bahni never showed up for lunch and it’s not like her, we know she went clubbing last night and so far Penelope’s tracked her down an ally and then she’s gone.”
“Her parents are British diplomats so Interpol has asked me to join, luckily I was just in Ontario so it was a short trip over,” Emily adds. “JJ will be here in half an hour for her first day back, and we will celebrate when we can, but I see we have some new faces here?”
“Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N,” she waves, still glued to Spencer’s side. “I’ve heard a lot about you both from Doctor Reid.”
“Doctor Tara Lewis,” she stands and shakes Emily’s hand, and then Elles.
“So it says here that the first missing case was in 2006 just after you left the BAU?” Spencer changes the subject before anyone can pry into why he would be telling her about the women who worked there before her.
“I did,” Elle nods. “I was too late for her, by the time her parents realized she was missing and called me in the case was cold. I started this as a way to get ahead of it.”
“How long has she been missing?” Tara asks.
“She was last seen at 1:07 this morning,” Elle confirms. “We have 25 hours, maybe, to beat the odds.”
“Reid,” Hotch cuts in, “I would like you and Elle to go check out the street she was last seen on, find any private cameras or anyone who might have seen something.”
He turns to Y/N who just shrugs in silence; “it’s fine.”
“Tara and Derek, I’d like you to interview Aasia when she and JJ get here, Garcia can you do a deep dive into Bahni’s spending and academic records?”
“Sure thing,” she starts clicking away on her computer immediately.
“And Y/N,” Elle looks at her. “I need you to go over the footage of the man who followed her to the alley and get familiar with his face. We’re using you as the face of the investigation to hopefully draw the unsub out.”
“How would she be able to do that alone?” Spencer gets defensive, a way he used to with JJ when she was the media liaison.
“If she goes on the news and makes Bahni seem like a person while describing the unsub as someone who can help solve the case, it will draw him out,” Emily explains for Hotch, who is glaring at Spencer for second-guessing the plan already.
“And she’s college-age,” Elle adds. “If that’s who he’s been going after all this time he will want to come in and talk IF he can talk to her.”
She places her hand on his leg under the table, “it’s a good plan.”
“It is,” Hotch agrees.
“What do you not have a saying to replace wheels up when they stay in town?” Elle teases him.
“Wheels away?” Emily joins her, “that works?”
“just get to work,” Hotch tries not to smirk at them.
Spencer stands up to leave with Elle, “can I just talk to Spencer before he leaves?” She carefully asks Hotch.
“Make it quick,” he agrees reluctantly and lets her follow him down to his desk.
Spencer rests his hands on the back of his desk chair, holding it tightly in an attempt to calm himself down.
“I’m going to be fine,” she assures him. “I don’t think the guy on the tape took her, we’d see him leave if he did.”
“Unless he lives in the alley,” Spencer combats. “Can you ask Penelope to do a background check on all the cars coming in and out of the campus and that street between midnight at 2 am?”
She nods, placing her hand on his gently. “Good luck out there, okay?”
He nods, “it’s been 2 days they’re going to know by the end of the week.”
She laughs, “so be it.”
He says fuck it right then and there, wrapping her up in a hug and kissing the top of her head as the team watches in the briefing room. “I’ll see you later.”
“Yes you will,” she smacks his side as he lets her go. “If you’re going to make a scene at least give me a real kiss.”
“Hmm,” he teases. “No cause then I’d have to sign some paperwork and I’ve got to go…” he starts to back away.
“Coward,” she teases.
He just shrugs, meeting Elle by the door and heading towards the elevators in silence.
She doesn’t ask, not even when they get to the garage or inside the SUV. They’re driving down the road for maybe 2 minutes when Elle finally brings it up. “So—”
“What do you want to know?”
“It's that easy now? What happened to you?” She teases. “You’re so different from the baby Spence I left.”
“Well you missed my drug problem, my dad being a possible child molester, getting shot in the knee, getting shot in the neck, my girlfriend dying, and now my mom might have Alzheimer's so you know… I had to grow up a bit,” he lays it all out for her to ask any question she wants.
“Why don’t you ever call me? I would have been there for you through anything,” she reminds him.
“I know that,” he reaches over for her hand, “thank you. But I was a big fan of suffering in silence… and now I have Y/N and she makes me feel normal?”
“That’s good, you deserve some fraction of normal in your life and she’s really cute,” Elle smiles back at him before returning her focus to the road. “How old is she?”
“27,” he smiles. “She’s the best.”
“You love her,” Elle notices it.
He presses his lips together to fend off a smile as he nods, “I think I do.”
“Tell her, you deserve to hear that someone loves you back.”
She’s anxiously tapping her foot as she waits for the elevator to arrive with the suspect, Rossi standing just behind her. Only 15 minutes after being on the news, the man that was in the security footage contacted them. Making his way over for a voluntary interview.
He looks Y/N up and down with a smile, “I heard you were looking for me.”
“I sure was,” she plays along with it, smiling and making him think she’s interested as well. “I knew you’d get the message, we just need all the help we can get right now.”
“Of course,” he has his ego stroked so well that they can roll with it.
“Would you mind coming with me and Agent Rossi to talk about everything you saw?” She batts her lashes at him, really selling it.
“Sure,” he follows them down the hall.
Rossi opens the door and lets them in first, letting her get him settled and a glass of water. “So you can tell me everything from that night?”
“Sure,” he nods, explaining his taxi job, his run for the night and his alibi.
“So why did you step back into the doorway?” She asks as she sits in front of him. Straight-faced as she catches him off guard.
“Excuse me?”
“You stepped out of the way to let her pass and then followed her, she made no motion to say she wanted your services, so I’m just wondering why you would follow her before she disappeared?”
“Huh,” he suddenly feels played and his personality switches. “I thought this was just a chat?”
“I’m simply asking you questions? If you don’t have answers that makes you suspicious. An innocent person would have given me an answer,” she fights back.
“She’s right, you got very defensive very fast,” Rossi finally speaks up.
He shakes his head with a huff. “I was going to ask if she needed a ride, she looked pretty messed up. And then some guy came over and wrapped his arm around her and they walked off. They seemed to know one another. I thought she was safe in his hands.”
Only his tone doesn’t match the words. He sounds jealous— It’s not like she would have been a large tab, he wasn’t jealous because he lost a customer. No, he’s jealous like someone stepped in and prevented him from snatching an easy victim.
“Fair enough,” she pretends to believe him. “Thank you for your cooperation.”
“I can go now?” He changes right back to confused.
She nods, “I’ll escort you down if you’d like?”
“Thanks,” he stands and follows her to the door where Rossi stops her.
“Are you sure?”
She nods, “I’ll be back up shortly.”
She catches up with him by the elevators, “did you have to drive far to get here?” She makes small talk.
“Not really,” he shakes it off. “I like your necklace.”
She touches her necklace and her face drops, “thanks.”
“Necklaces are my favourite.”
“You don’t wear any?” She notices in the form of a question.
He shakes his head as the elevator opens at the ground level. “I think they’re nice gifts.”
She nods along, pretending that didn’t set off every ret alert and alarm in her mind, “well here you are. Thanks again for all the help.”
“No problem,” he goes to leave, turning to stop and block the doors from closing. “If you want, later tonight I can show you everything I saw at the alley?”
“Yeah, sure,” she agrees with no plan to go.
“8 pm? At Cafe Linda?”
“See you then,” she agrees and he steps back letting the door close and then she loses her cool.
Feverishly smashing the floor 6 button, and begging to make it back up to Hotch to tell him everything. But she also just wants to cry but she holds it in as she makes it to their floor matching past Rossi and right into the briefing room.
“He may not be our unsub but that man is a creep,” she announces. “He not only complimented my necklace but he asked me to come to the alley tonight so he can walk me through what he saw.”
“You’re not going,” Hotch announces.
“I didn’t plan to,” she snaps. “I think we need to look into him because he’s either giving little girls necklaces to keep them quiet or he’s taking necklaces after he kills women.”
“Kathy’s parents said she was in a necklace when she went missing,” Emily adds. “His connection to this case and being at NYU right before she went missing gives us enough probable cause for a search warrant.”
Hotch sighs, “fine. I’ll call a judge, you and Y/N can go and search his place.”
“So shouldn’t we arrest him before he leaves the building?” Morgan asks.
“He’s still in the garage, I’ve let the security know to stop him and arrest him at the gate,” Garcia adds, listening in and planning in advance.
“Thank you,” Hotch smiles at her, “you’re always reading my mind.”
Garcia smiles back at him, “always, sir.”
“Okay, let’s go,” she looks at Emily and waiting for her to turn to leave the room.
“Let’s,” she motions for Y/N to take the lead and follows.
The drive to his house is so weird… she doesn’t quite know how to talk to Emily, knowing only slightly about her and her knowing nothing about Y/N.
“So how long have you and Spencer been dating?” Her first question just gets right to the point.
She laughs awkwardly, “3 days…”
“Oh…”
She hums as she nods along, looking out the window and avoiding Emily’s eye contact. “It’s new, we’re both pretty infatuated with each other but we’re taking it slower than most people because I’m afraid to let my feelings change how I do the job.”
“Makes sense,” Emily replies. Her voice is so sweet, she has an aura of calm that follows her and lets Y/N feel safe. She gets why Spencer said she was his best friend on the team before her.
“The necklace comment… why did it make you so wary of this guy?”
“When I was in middle school a guy gave me a necklace while he was grooming me,” she whispers. Looking out the window and pretending it doesn’t bother her now. “It’s fine, I don’t have it anymore, but I knew this guy had that same vibe.”
Emily put her hand out, letting Y/N interlock their fingers and hold it. “I know I just met you, but you’re family now. I’m here if you’re ever suddenly not fine with it anymore…”
“Thanks,” she smiles. “Let’s get this fucker.”
By the time the warrant went through, Spencer and Elle had joined them to search the first suspect's house while Emily left to help the rest of the team with suspect two. Tracking all the license plates in the area like Spencer suggested lead them to a Chinese food delivery driver in the area.
That didn’t stop Y/N from destroying her suspect's house. They tore the house apart, searching every nook and cranny for any answer that would make sense. She was tempted to lift the floorboards up, call in SCSI to run ground-penetrating radar and search the fucking walls if they had to.
But then she found it.
A small metal box in the laundry room contained some tools and when she lifted up the fake bottom, she found 5 necklaces.
“Elle!!” She yelled through the house.
They both came running down the hall to her, “is this Kathy’s necklace?”
“Oh my god,” she whispered with a nod.
“I want to kill this guy,” she mumbles under her breath as she places the necklaces back in the box and closes it up.
“Spencer doesn’t need another girl he has a crush on to murder someone and get kicked out of the bureau,” Elle teases.
“What?” Y/N asks.
“Way to go,” Spencer nudges her.
Y/N stands up with the box and slides it into a large evidence bag before taping it up. “I guess he has a type then.”
“I don’t,” Spencer tries to cover up. “I mean, if I do then it’s people who are nice to me…”
She smiles at him, unable to even pretend to be jealous or mad. “It’s hard to be mean to you when you’re so cute.”
“Ew,” Elle announces her disgust as she leaves the room.
“Let’s get out of here before I end up kissing you in a murderer's laundry room,” Spencer teases, taking her hand and leading her out of the house as the rest of the forensics team takes over the bagging of evidence.
“Guys,” Elle rushes back to them with her phone pressed to her ear. “We have a bigger problem than we thought with Bahni.”
They rush into the SUV, putting the team on the speaker to hear the most unthinkable. “So I did what Y/N suggested and searched every single driver coming in and off-campus and the last street she was seen on,” Penelope explains back. “And I came across a man who was delivering Chinese food under the name Tom Larson… and it’s ironic his name is tom because he has a plethora of peeping offences and general creepiness alongside a metric shit-ton of abuse from his dad and dead mother.”
“Okay?” Elle follows.
“Tom Larson lives near Bahni,” Emily explains, “I was just at his house where I found him and his father had been murdered.”
“So we have not 1 but 3 creeps in this case, and none of them are who took Bahni?” Spencer rubs his eyes. “Please tell me we know who was in Tom’s car last night.”
“That’s where it gets tricky,” Penelope says with the doles tones of keys clicking behind her words. “We were just contacted by the fugitive Taskforce because they believe one of the murderers they’ve been tracking took Bahni… but he has ties to a much larger scale global sex trafficking ring.”
Elle flies through the streets with their lights on, pulling back into headquarters and right up to the security check. “So who is this guy?”
“Once you get back up here, Agent Simmons and Alvez will explain everything,” Hotch confirms. “I’m taking Derek to see Cruze, we need to tell him what’s going on.”
“Sounds good,” Elle hangs up and throws the SUV in park.
Y/N hesitates, staying put and taking a few breaths as Spencer watches. Elle’s left the car and is already on her way to the elevator. “What’s wrong?”
“Can I just have a hug real quick?”
“Yeah,” he wraps his arms around her and holds her close. “Are you okay?”
She nods against him, “yeah it’s just good to have at least 8 hugs a day.”
“Hug me whenever you need to,” he whispers against her hair, kissing the side of her head before she pulls back.
“Kisses are helpful too?”
He smiles, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers, mumbling against them, “how many?”
She hums, “10?”
He pecks her lips 10 times and counts each one, making her giggle, it takes so much effort to hold her smile back to keep kissing him but she feels much better.
“Thank you,” she beams and she can swear Spencer's eyes sparkle as he smiles back.
She pulls him into another hug, “I hate that we have to go catch a killer right now.”
“Come on then, as soon as we get him we can go on another date somewhere?”
She shakes her head, “after this case I think we should take a nap together… I’m exhausted and I don’t want to let you go.”
Spencer shakes his head in amazement, “you really like me?”
“Yeah, maybe I do,” she teases him. “You should get used to it because it’s only going to get more intense and I will smother you with love.”
He just shrugs, “it’s about time—“
They’re startled with a knock on the window, “we get it you’re in love, can we go now?”
“Sorry!” Y/N calls back with a giggle, pulling him in for one last kiss before getting out. Spencer follows with a deep blush that everyone will see when they get back upstairs, but it looks cute on him.
Luke Alvez has been trying to catch one criminal for the last 2 years. Simon Garrett has been a pain in the ass for the FBI, the CIA and DEA. He first showed up on their radar when his DNA was found on 14 women’s remains, all of who had been missing for at least 5 years.
His DNA was then traced to his son in the foster system, who’s been off the radar for the last 10 years. Everette Garrett.
“Now he’s interesting because I’ve been investigating his sex trafficking ring between Canada and the United States,” Matt adds. “All 14 women his father's DNA was found on were thought to be in his ring, which means when they get too old he hands them to his father to take care of.”
Y/N shakes her head as she listens, “so if you’ve been looking for them for this long what makes you think we can find them in time to save Bahni?”
“We’ve been tracking him for a while, we knew that he had a new girl on his radar and when we heard it was Bahni Desai we knew it was time to get you guys,” Matt explains.
“So far we know that she has to be taken to this warehouse in Alexandria before she goes any further, we’re going to intercept them before they make it to the warehouse and then use their car to gain access to take the whole thing down,” Luke rolls out a map of the facility then.
“We need to have the place surrounded for any runners, SWAT is getting prepped, we’re going tonight at 3 am,” Matt adds. “Morgan, Hotch, Prentiss, Alvez and Myself will be running a team at each of the 5 exits. Once inside, each team's swat unit will deploy gas to carefully knock everyone out, from there we need someone to cuff everyone at least until we know who is a victim and who is working there.”
“We’re taking everyone alive?” Spencer makes sure he hears them right.
“We need to know what the step after this warehouse is if we want to rescue more victims,” Luke’s voice is gentle yet stern as he explains. “I’ve seen this man take too many women from good homes and ruin their lives, I’m not letting him slip out of my fingers.”
“We’ve had this planned for months, we just needed to wait for the next confirmed drop-off.”
“Who’s driving?” Y/N asks, having a feeling it was her and Spencer.
“He’s Reids age,” Hotch announces from the door as he walks in with Cruze, “so we’ll replace Everette with Reid and Bahni with Y/L/N.”
“Rossi and Elle will be there to apprehend Everette, we’re setting up a fake traffic spot to irritate him and inhibit him from running. You two will be in a duplicate car arriving at the warehouse at the arranged time,” Emily confirms. “We just have to prep SWAT and then we can leave.”
“Alright, let’s get ready.”
Pretending to be kidnapped in the back of a car driven by her boyfriend was possibly the weirdest way to spend a Tuesday morning. Driving the exact make and model as their unsub, her heartbeat was loud enough to cover the sound of the engine and distract her from the long drive. She was overly anxious, and rightly so, it was her first sting.
And she was doing it all without coffee. Tired but full of adrenaline, she wanted to close her eyes and drift off but she knew she needed to be ready to apprehend the men at the gate with Spencer.
She feels the large bump, indicating they just went over a speed bump and she knows what that means. The car slows and she can hear the muffled talking before swat steps in, soon enough Spencer is cracking the trunk open and reaching in for her.
“Are you okay?” He helps her to her feet and makes sure her bulletproof vest is on right before handing her, her gun and watching her clip it on.
“Yeah, what happened?”
“The guards are down, Swat moved in as soon as we arrived, now we have to stand here and wait for them to clear the building,” Spencer explains as they walk to the front of her car.
She draws her gun and keeps it pointed low, guarded as they watch the front entrance for anyone to escape. “Do you know if Bahni is okay?” She whispers towards him.
He nods, “they radioed in that they got her, she’s being airlifted to the hospital with JJ right now.”
She nods with a deep breath, “okay good.”
“It’s going to be fine, we have enough SWAT here to take the government,” he tries to joke, getting a laugh from one of the officers… very strange to see someone laugh while holding an assault rifle.
One of the swat side steps towards Spencer, “I’m hearing on the line that they’ve cleared every room. They’re cuffing everyone, you’re free to enter.”
“Thanks,” Spencer replies.
The high-pitched screech rubber gripping asphalt in an attempt to stop draws their attention backwards. Elle and Rossi jumping out with their guns drawn, ready to join even though the exciting part is long over.
“No runners?” Elle asks, holstering her weapon. “Aw man, I was excited.”
“Not a one,” Y/N adds, watching the front entrance for the rest of the team to start funnelling out with the unsubs.
Luke exits first with a big smile on his face, Simon Garrett cuffed and barely stumbling out the door in front of him. He finally got him.
“well done,” Elle congratulates him. “Let me help you get him in SWAT van.”
“I think she has a thing for Luke,” Rossi leans into Y/N to gossip. “she wouldn’t stop asking about him on the drive…”
“Ooo,” Y/N teases, getting more and more tired as her adrenaline drops. Her eyes are heavy and Rossi can tell.
“Why don’t I bring you and the good doctor home, I don’t think they need all of us for the wrap-up,” Rossi pats her back. “You’ve had a long night, kid.”
“Thank you,” she smiles, holstering her gun and turning with him towards the SUV. “I’m so exhausted.”
“Well you’ve been on the job for almost 24 hours now, you’ve officially made it through your first overnight sting op,” Rossi congratulates her like he’s her grandpa.
She turns back when she doesn’t hear Spencer following her, “Spence? Are you coming?”
“Um,” he has something to ask as he follows then but he doesn’t say it. “Yeah, sorry.”
“It’s okay, come sit with me in the back?” She asks, sliding in beside him and resting her head on his shoulder as soon as their seatbelts are on.
“Did you still want to have a nap together?” He whispers, feeling her nod against his shoulder before she pulls back.
“Come here,” she tugs him in against her chest, snuggling in as best as she could in their sitting position. Holding him close and feeling him drift off in her arms. She has no problem following suit.
When she wakes, Rossi is parked outside of her apartment, “here you go, Y/N.”
She hums as she comes to, shaking Spencer awake too, “Spence, come on, let’s get to bed.”
“He’s going with you?”
She nods, “don’t tell Penelope. She’ll have a field day, I just want a nap.”
“You better get more than a nap,” Rossi orders. “You guys need to actually rest before you come back to work on Wednesday.”
“Thanks, Dad,” she teases him. “We will.”
“Bye Dave,” Spencer whispers as he gets out of the car. “Thank you for the ride.”
“Anytime kid,” Rossi waves them off, waiting for them to enter the building before driving away.
“Finally,” she sighs, dragging Spencer down the hall and towards her apartment. “I’m so fucking tired.”
“me too,” he barely says.
He follows her inside like a lost puppy, taking off his vest and shirt, slipping out of his pants until he’s in an undershirt, boxers and his mismatched socks. She’s amazed by how comfortable he is with her, but she has known him for 3 months, it’s enough time to fall in love with someone… right?
She’s loved him since she started working with him. When she realized he valued her opinions, he looked at her as a person and he genuinely loved her company. She felt a real connection with him, not just childish infatuation. He was everything to her.
She slides into bed beside him and snuggles in, wrapping an arm around his middle and resting her head on his chest.
“I guess I really can do everything,” she smirks.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
She pokes his chest and giggles away the awkwardness, “the thing I wanted to do most, the thing that I couldn’t do… that was to fall in love with you, but I did it anyway.”
“Well, then I guess I can do everything too.”
She pulls away to look at him, “I love you, Spencer. I don’t know if it’s too soon, but I’ve loved you for a while.”
He pulls her in for a kiss, shocking her as he breathes her in and holds her there. “I love you, more Y/N.”
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541 notes · View notes
mediocre-writerr · 3 years
Text
safe and sound [jennifer jareau]
jennifer jareau x reader
requested by anon: Hi! I love your Criminal Minds fics and was wondering if I could make a request? Where JJ and reader are dating and it’s set during the season 7 finale where reader is the one who shot the robber and is the one who was taken instead of Will. JJ and reader reunite with a fluffy ending. 
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*not my gif*
Kings and Queens. Jacks and Jokers. 
Sound familiar, right? When you hear that you think of the playing cards, not some bank robbers who have been robbing internationally. 
It was a bank robbery. Something that you have been reported to at least five times throughout your career, but this time it was different. The robbers known as the “Face Cards” have been robbing banks all over the DC area, only this time were you called onto the scene.
You and your partner Will were driving around on patrol when your police radio went off, “All units in the vicinity of Penn and Southeast, robbery in progress at Colonial Liberty Bank. Shots fired. Repeat, shots fired at the Colonial Liberty Bank. All units.”
Will and you looked at each other as you grabbed the radio, turning the steering wheel to make a U-turn, “426 responding,” 
Will flicked on the sirens as you started to pick up speed. The two of you finally parked on the side of the bank to prevent them from escaping through the side doors, “Better pull back and see if they respond-” Will was about to go on went a shot rang out and a bullet narrowly missed his head. 
“Shit! Cover!” you yelled. 
The two of you took behind the car as you fired at the man who tried shooting Will. The bullet ripping through the man’s shirt and through his shoulder. You watched as the other man began pulling him away from the door and back inside. 
You called for backup and not too long after JJ came running towards you, embracing you in a tight hug, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah I’m fine, Will over here got pretty lucky,” you said with a smile on your face, patting his back. 
JJ scanned your face, her hands never leaving your cheeks. You grabbed a hold of her hands, pressing a kiss to the palm of them, “I’m okay, let’s just try catching these guys okay?” you whispered and she nodded letting out a sigh. 
Most of the day was spent talking to Chris as you all watched Oliver die. The only goal was to get the hostages out of there without anyone getting hurt, “No more feds. I want the cop who killed my brother,” you let out a sigh, placing your head in your hands.
You, Morgan, JJ, and Hotch all stood there in the van, “Well, I gotta go out there, don’t I?”
“No, absolutely not!” JJ exclaimed.
You looked at your girlfriend with a sad smile, “What other choice do we have?”
“Something! Anything else! They will shoot you the second you walk in, is that not running through your brain?!” she basically yelled.
Hotch and Morgan met your eyes and they took your face to give the two of you some space. Once they left, you looked at JJ and placed your hands on her waist.
She finally leaned in to your touch and placed her hands softly along your neck. You placed your forehead on hers as she sighed. You pressed your lips on hers, kissing her intensely. You wanted to show her how much you love her and care for her even if you’re about to run into a bank full of robbers who probably want you dead.
Once you pulled away, she noticed the determined look in your eyes, “No, no, no! You can’t do this! What about us? What about Henry?” 
“Four people are dead because I killed his brother,” I whispered. 
You pulled away from your short embrace, walking backwards towards the door of the van, “No please! Please don’t leave me!” she exclaimed, tears running down her face as she slid her back against the wall.
You wanted nothing more than to run up and hold her, but you knew that this needed to be done. So no one else could die for your mistakes. “I don’t have a choice baby,” you whispered again, “I love you and I love Henry. Remember that, always,” 
Hotch already knew what you were gonna choose, SWAT members hid behind the cop cars, already pointing their guns inside. You took a deep breath as you started to walk towards the bank. 
You could hear JJ’s screams as you slowly walked towards the bank, “Morgan! Let go of me! Y/N! Y/N stop!” 
You raised your hands up immediately, walking into the bank, “C’mon Chris, you got what you wanted. I’m here. Now please, let them go,” 
“You go,” Chris said, forcing a mom and her children out of there, “What’s your name?”
“Y/N Y/L/N,” you told him. 
There was no response from him as he just shot you twice. The bullets firing echoing throughout the entire building and outside. JJ scrambled in Morgan’s arms, her bright blue eyes widening, “No!” 
The team sat there in the van with JJ. All eyeing her like she was about to just explode. One wrong word would just cause her to go crazy, “Where were they shot?” she asked. Garcia just stared at her unsure of what to say, “Where were they shot?!” 
“I don’t know,” Garcia muttered. 
JJ picked up the stack of papers that were lying next to her and threw them at the wall of the van. Smacking her hands down onto the cool metal. Everyone just stared in shock, unsure of whether you’re alive or dead.
Luckily, he didn’t go for the kill shot.
You laid there as you could feel your body going cold. Your shoulder was bleeding out and the hostages who were helping you started to get a little blurry. 
All you could think about was JJ and Henry. The way Henry would run up to you when you’d go over to their house and hug you tightly. 
Or the nights where both you and JJ were off, Henry would lie in the middle of you as a movie played. Eventually, Henry would fall asleep cuddled up next you. Then JJ’s lazy arm would wrap the both of you. Once you made sure they were both sleeping soundly, you’d wrap your arms around both of them safely and securely. 
“I need to cause a distraction while you guys get out of here,” you told the man, who was applying pressure to your wound, “But I need you to tell my girlfriend Jennifer and her son Henry that I love them so much and I’m sorry,” 
The rest of the time you spent at the bank was a little fuzzy. You were more focused on trying to get Chris to turn on the woman and trying not to pass out from blood loss, than anything else. 
Before you knew it there was an explosion and you were just getting pushed into a car. The whole car ride, you focused your breathing, trying your hardest to stay awake. 
The only thing keeping you going were JJ and Henry. What you would do just to hold them one last time. 
Your thoughts came to an abrupt stop when you arrived at a fire station. The fireman helped patched you up much to Izzy’s choice. You watched as she shot him multiple times before sneaking into the firehouse to grab you a change of clothes. 
“You didn’t have to kill him,” you muttered.
“He was a witness, he needed to go,” she shot back without an ounce of remorse. 
Then the next thing you know you were transported back to the car. Everything was going fine or well okay for being a hostage to two psychopaths. Until Izzy just started opening fire on Chris.
“Well Detective Y/L/N, take Chris out of the car and get in the passenger seat. We’re going on a little drive,” she told you, the gun pointed straight at you, “Stop here,” she muttered after a little bit.
The backdoor opened to reveal the Joker himself. He was the former Marine who helped keep pressure on your wound. Your eyes widened slightly at the sight before ultimately remaining your composure.
“Hey Y/N!” he patted your wounded shoulder and you tried your absolute hardest not to wince, “Sorry, forgot about that,” 
“Drive,” she said again.
“Where?” 
“Take me to see your son,” Izzy said and you shook your head. Henry wasn’t your sign biologically, but the longer you and JJ dated the longer it felt like he was. Like your entire life he was actually yours, “I said, drive!” 
You took a deep breath in before driving towards JJ’s house. The drive was tense as your knuckled turned white from gripping the steering wheel too hard. You just hoped and prayed to whatever type of God there was that they could keep Henry safe. 
JJ would be able to get over the loss of you, but the loss of Henry. That’s a different kind of loss she’ll never be able to survive. 
You finally parked across the street. You smiled softly at the sight of Henry playing in the front with Miss Kate and her daughter. 
“He’s a cutie,” Izzy told you and your smile quickly faded, “Looks a lot like Jennifer. Where’s the hospitality Y/N? Come on introduce me!” 
You got out of the car slowly walking up to the house, “Y/N!” Henry yelled, running towards you as he wrapped his arms around your legs. 
You crouched down so his tiny arms can wrap around your neck. You held him tight and close, sucking in a deep breath. Just for a moment, you were transported back to one of your favorite parts of the week. Just for a moment, he was safe in your arms.
Until he wasn’t. 
You told Miss Kate that it was okay to go as Izzy followed you into JJ’s home. Once Henry ran off to grab some toys, you turned your head and looked straight at her, “You touch my kid and I will kill you!” you said with teeth gritted.
Izzy clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth, making a tsk noise, “Now do you remember the deal Y/N? You touch me and both you and Jennifer die. Who’s gonna take care of Henry then?” 
“Y/N! Come play with me!” he exclaimed, running back in.
You crouched down again, ruffling his blonde hair, “I would love to, but I can’t right now buddy. You see, I have to go back to fighting bad guys, okay? Izzy over here is gonna take care of you until mommy comes home,” you could feel the tears start stinging your eyes as you tried to stop them from falling.
“So you’re gonna be a good boy for Izzy, okay? Listen to everything she says, okay?” you ask him
“Okay,” he replies innocently. 
“One more thing bud,” you pull him close to you as you hug him tightly, “I know I am not your mom or dad, but I love you so much. Did you know that?” 
He nods and you smile softly, “I will never let anything hurt you. Everything is going to be okay,” 
“Everything will be okay,” he mumbled back, “I love you Y/N,” 
You sniffled, “I love you too buddy,” 
You take a deep breath and back away from him. Before you walked out of the house, you looked Izzy dead in the eye, pushing your shoulder against hers on the way out. 
You sung open the car door before slamming it shut, “What the fuck do you want?!” you asked. 
“Woah, easy tiger,” Matthew told you, “You’re going to listen to everything I say. If you as dare mutter the two lettered word, your boy is as good as gone. Or should I say Jennifer’s boy is as good as gone because he’s not yours. He will never be your own kid,” 
Matthew made you drive to the train station where he strapped a bunch of bombs to your chest and chained you up like you’re some random zoo animal. Then he ran, like the coward he is, he ran. 
You thought you were as good as gone. But that didn’t matter to you. All that mattered to you was that Henry was safe. He was stuck with the psychopath that is the quote on quote “Queen”. 
Just when all hope was lost Prentiss came running in, “I found Y/N!” 
She ripped the duct tape off your mouth, “Izzy’s got Henry. Forget about me! Make sure Henry’s safe, please!” 
“JJ’s there right now. She’s gonna keep him safe,” Emily tried calming you down, “I’m not leaving your side, I’m gonna get you out of here so you can be with your family,” 
Emily was panicking as she tried to find a way to keep you from blowing up into bits. She punched in one passcode and it beeped, showing that she only had two tries left. 
You shook your head, knowing that in a minute you’ll be gone, and Emily could not be here to be included in the damage.
“Emily, just go. Get everyone out of here,” you pleaded.
She shook her head, “No, I told you you’ll get to be with your family and that’s what’s going to happen. I’m not going to leave you,” 
When she finally unlocked the code, another box opened. 30 seconds flashing and taunting you. This is how long you have left live. 
“Emily, tell JJ that I love her and that I’m sorry,” you whispered, “Now leave please! There’s still a chance that you could save yourself so go!” you screamed. 
She sat there looking at the wires before out of nowhere without speaking she just cut one, “What the fuck?!” you exclaimed, shutting your eyes close.
After a couple seconds, nothing happened. You opened one eye and looked down at the timer. It stopped. You let out a breath and an empty laugh, leaning your head against the pole.
“Emily, I love you and I love that you’re JJ’s best friend. But let me just say, I did not think we’d get this close to where I trust you with my life...literally!” you joked and she let out a soft chuckle.
“Let’s get you to your family,” she told you.
As soon as the bomb squad came to disarm you, you wrapped your arms around Emily, pulling her into a tight hug, “Thank you,” 
“Of course,” 
You were finally discharged from the hospital after a couple hours. Rossi reassured JJ that she could stay home with Henry and that he’ll drive you to the house. She was hesitant at first, but Rossi basically forced her to stay home.
Rossi parked in front of JJ’s patting your shoulder softly, “Enjoy your time off,” he joked.
“Oh trust me, I will,” you fired back and the two of you let out a hearty laugh.
You walked into the house slowly. Henry’s little voice echoing throughout the foyer was like music to your ears, “Y/N! You’re back!” he yelled.
You kneeled down as he made a bee line towards your arms with your arm that wasn’t in a sling, you hugged him tight. Even with one arm you could tell that he was struggling to breathe at how tight you were hugging him.
“I am! Did you pick out a movie tonight?” you asked, raising your eyebrows up at him.
“Yup!”
“Which one did you pick?” you asked and he showed you the DVD case of Shrek 2, “Nice choice bud!”
You looked up to the sound of footsteps to see JJ walking towards the two of you, “How about you brush your teeth and change into your PJ’s and me and your mom we’ll get the bed and movie all set up? How does that sound?” 
“Great!” he replied with a big smile.
“Great!” you responded, ruffling his hair, pulling him into another hug, “I love you,” you whispered to him.
“I love you too,” he told you before running off. 
You stood back up to face JJ. At first she looked angry before her anger turned to sadness. You took her into your arm as she buried her face into your neck, “It’s okay,” you whispered, “Everyone’s safe. I’m safe, Henry’s safe, you’re safe. We’re okay,” 
JJ took your face into her hands, running circles on your cheekbones, “I know Henry’s not biologically mine, but he means the world to me Jay. I wasn’t going to let anything bad happen to him,” 
“You’re just as much as a parent as I am,” she whispered.
“But he’s not mine,” you told her. 
“Then let’s change that, Y/N Y/L/N, marry me. We’ll get married in front of all of our friends and family. Henry will be your son, blood or not. And I will be your wife,” JJ whispered.
You smiled at her softly, “You know, I always wanted a wife and son,” you whispered to her.
“So is that a yes?” she asked.
“In every single language,” you murmured, pressing your lips upon hers. 
You and JJ stood there for a minute, just relishing in each other’s embrace. Your lips moving in sync. When all of a sudden you hear a little, “Ewwwww,” 
The two of you pulled apart and you saw Henry all dressed up in his Captain America pajamas, “Who are you ‘eww-ing’ Mr?” you asked him and he giggled as he ran away from you.
You immediately ran after him, JJ yelling after you, “Y/N! Be careful of your arm!” 
Henry squealed as you picked him up with your one healthy arm, spinning him around the bedroom before dropping him onto the bed. You crashed in your usual spot next to him as JJ put on the movie. 
You felt Henry’s little arm wrap around your body and once his grip loosened you knew he was asleep. Your eyes glanced over to JJ who was sleeping safe and soundly, her chin resting on top of Henry’s blonde head of hair. 
You sighed contently, as you turned on your side, wrapping your arms around the two of them. Henry’s head close to your chest as your forehead rested on top of JJ’s. 
Just for a moment, everything was right where it needed to be.
404 notes · View notes
pippytmi · 3 years
Note
16 + 4 + 2 (werewolf supercorp?)
It is not uncommon for Kara to wake up in a puddle of blood.
At this point she is immune to the shock that comes with it, really. She has adapted; knows all the best tricks to get stains out of her clothes, knows all the best laundromats that don’t ask any questions. Heck, she even has Alex’s ex-girlfriend on speed dial, just in case there is a freak chance the blood Kara wakes up in might be human (it has not happened yet, knock on wood).
But there are other parts that still take some getting used to. Like, for example, the loss of memory that comes with every night of the full moon. Because yeah, she understands why she wakes up in a pool of blood. What she doesn’t understand is why this time around she wakes up in a pool of her own blood, and in so much pain that it hurts to open her eyes.
“Ow,” Kara whispers to herself, twisting onto her side with a groan. Her clothes are gone—no surprise—but even as she is laying down on the cold, rocky forest floor, the only thing she can focus on is how much her head hurts. She’s dealt with branch scratches, sore legs and arms, the occasional plethora of bug bites, but never a headache. Her one comfort is that at least she has made it into the backyard of Sam’s cabin. It takes a considerable amount of strength to push herself up off the ground; walking is going to be much harder than anticipated.
If Alex saw her now, she'd—well first she would hit Kara over the head and yell at her about being dumb, but afterwards she would snicker. And probably hit her over the head again for good measure.
“Oh my God—!”
Okay, it’s official. Kara is now dead. Even if the stranger gawking at her is not the one who kills her, Alex definitely will.
And it’s that thought that makes Kara drop right back down on the floor, knocking the wind right out of her lungs, and she groans into the dirt pitifully.
“Oh, fuck,” the stranger whispers, almost as if to herself, scrambling to come to Kara’s side. “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck this shit. Fuck!” Said stranger belatedly claps a hand over her mouth, green eyes widening in horror. “Holy shit, are you alive?”
Kara pitifully rests her cheek against the ground and tries not to look too offended. “Uh, kind of,” she replies. (So this must not be Sam’s cabin, then.) “Sorry. Am I in your yard? It is a very nice yard. Five stars.”
“No, it’s not my—I’m house-sitting,” the woman explains, though she is giving Kara a look that says really? That’s what you want to focus on right now?
“Well, it’s still a nice place,” Kara says, because she is polite and small talk is always a good thing to fall back on when you’re naked on a pile of dead leaves. “Wait, I don’t suppose you’re house-sitting for Sam, are you? Sam Arias, super tall, has a daughter who is freakishly good at checkers?”
Stranger-who-swears-like-a-sailor frowns. “How do you know Sam?” she asks suspiciously.
“She dated my sister. It was a whole—it’s a thing,” Kara says. “You know?”
“Wait. Are you Kara? Are you Alex’s sister?”
“Yes! So you do know!” Kara would grin if her face were capable of any emotion besides mind-shattering pain. “Then you must be Sam’s friend…uh, bear with me…Lena? Or Jess?”
“Lena,” says the woman, still notably wary, so Kara makes the decision to wiggle until she can prop herself up her elbows and look less, well, like a corpse.
“Hey, got it in one!” Kara says as cheerfully as she can muster. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. And can I just—uh, say—that you don’t have to worry. I won’t die here or anything. I know you would obviously be the number one suspect for murder and it wouldn’t be nice of me to put you through that.”
“…right. Never mind that you would be dead, or anything.” Lena begins to shakily unbutton her coat like a woman possessed, as if her doubt has morphed entirely into concern now that she has confirmation the freak naked in Sam’s backyard is not an entire stranger. “Here, this is long enough to cover you. Do you—do you need help getting up?”
“No, no, I’ve got it, thank you,” Kara insists, and gradually, she manages; she shifts sideways and then tentatively onto her butt, and accepts the coat when it’s all but thrown at her face. There is blood mixed in with the leaves and general guck beneath her, and she winces at the sight. “I’ll come back and clean this later,” she’s quick to add, and Lena frowns in response.
“Are you serious? Forget cleaning, you need—stitches, at the very least. I can take you to the hospital if—”
“Oh no, you don’t have to do that!” Kara blurts out, and with the adrenaline from that burst of energy she’s able to scramble to her feet. She is shaky, unsteady, but she manages to stay upright at least and she’ll count that as a win. “Shoot. I’m sorry for yelling. I just—no hospitals. I can’t do hospitals.” She has never had to form an excuse for this, and her mouth can’t quite wrap around the right words.
But Lena—green eyes wide and unsure, skin pale in the early morning light—nods, like she understands. “Okay,” she says. “No hospitals.”
“Thanks,” Kara mumbles, wrapping the coat tightly around herself. There are startling black spots in her vision and her head still feels like it was used as a piñata; she wonders what the heck her next move should be now. If Sam needs someone to house-sit, she must be out of the city. And if Sam is out of the city, Kara can’t exactly waltz into Sam’s house to wash all the blood off her body (and then call up Alex from the couch while stealing whatever ice cream Ruby picked). Sam lets her do that, sure, but that’s Sam. It would be pretty rude to do that when Lena is right here.
“Do you…” And Lena pauses, nose scrunching up as if something has just occurred to her. “I can give you a ride somewhere else, if you’d like. Back to your house?”
“No, that’s okay,” Kara hurries to decline, because how can she really explain that she lives in an apartment, and that if little old Mrs. Jensen saw her coming up covered in blood she’d finally succumb to her third heart attack? “Can I just use Sam’s phone to call my sister? Then I’ll come right back out here, I promise.”
“Why would you come back out here again?” Underneath her coat, Lena is wearing plaid pajama pants that are rolled at the ankle (Sam’s, most likely), and a tank top that is extremely fitted. Very, very well fitted. Like, you-can-tell-it’s-frigidly-cold-outside-kind-of-fitted.
Kara coughs and tries not to let on how her train of thought has twisted. “Because…I’m a stranger?” she tries. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Remember, if you die I’m going to be the first one they question,” Lena says, tilting her head expectantly in the direction of Sam’s cabin. “Come inside, warm up. Call your sister.” All things considered, she is far more concerned than Kara expected her to be—as if, somehow, ridding herself of the weirdo walking around bloody and probably concussed isn’t the very first thing on Lena’s mind.
So Kara doesn’t look a gift horse in the mouth; she accepts the offer. It’s a small comfort that if she really does get murdered by a total stranger, it won’t be while cold and naked.
Lena goes right into Sam’s room the instant they go inside, already gathering a million outfits for Kara to pick through. “The shower is fickle, but it does have hot water,” she says, adding a towel to the pile in Kara’s arms when she re-emerges. “You just have to—”
“Hit the wall twice, and give it a few seconds,” Kara finishes. “Yeah, Sam reminds me every time.”
“So you…visit Sam often, do you?”
“Uh.” And suddenly, despite the long, cold night she’s had, the air indoors feels a bit warmer than is comfortable. “Only sometimes.” Once a month, Kara thinks, and Lena crosses her arms and just stares.
Really stares, dragging those sharp green eyes up and down Kara’s whole body. Squints at the scratches on her face, scrunches her nose at the way Kara awkwardly shifts from side to side. Finally Lena speaks, and it’s only to say, “It’s you, isn’t it?”
“...come again?”
“It’s you. Sam told me she’s been helping out a friend with a—furry predicament—”
If it were possible to choke on air, Kara would be dead right now. “Did she really call it furry? But she’s also—!” She has to pause, now, because she feels an urge to clarify, “Wait. Are we talking about the same thing right now?”
Lena narrows her eyes slightly. “You mean talking about how you’re a werewolf?”
“Oh!” Head lighter, Kara sucks in a laugh that makes her ribs feel like they are splintering open. “Then yes. That’s good, I didn’t want you to think I was a—anyway. I didn’t think Sam told anyone.”
“Sam and I have been friends for a long time,” Lena says slowly. A beat. “She actually ate my hamster once.”
Kara winces. “Recently?”
“No! Back in the fifth grade,” Lena frowns, like she might’ve added dumbass at the end of the sentence. “I’m a grown woman. I don’t own hamsters.”
“What? Come on, having pets isn’t just a kid thing,” Kara says. “I used to have a cat, but he…”
“Oh my God, you ate him?”
Kara’s jaw drops. “What—no! He turned out to already have an owner, so she took him back. He just liked to wander into my apartment.” She hugs the clothing pile tighter to her chest, and tries her hardest to scowl. “I’m responsible, okay? Most of the time. I’m not dangerous.”
“Except to deer, or rabbits, or whatever else you killed last night?” Lena quirks an eyebrow, but surprisingly not in a manner that’s judge-y. Just…curious.
“Right,” Kara says defeatedly, and her head throbs enough that her grip on Sam’s clothes begins to falter. “Sorry. I wasn't trying to be defensive or anything.”
“That's alright.” And stranger still, Lena reaches out to gently touch the side of Kara’s head. “So does the same thing happen to you?”
“Huh?” The proximity has scrambled Kara’s brain momentarily, and she finds herself unthinkingly holding her breath.
“Do you also black out,” Lena clarifies. “Like Sam does, every time she shifts.”
“Oh. Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s—a universal wolf thing,” Kara says.
Lena hums, and her hand retracts. “And are you a serial killer in wolf form?”
“Uh, I hope not? I’m pretty sure all this is…” Kara gestures over her body with one hand, still hugging the pile of clothes with the other. “Not human.”
“Okay.” Lena casually walks away, but pauses to throw over her shoulder, “I’ll help you clean up your head once you’re out of the shower. I’ve helped Sam a hundred times.”
“Are you—do you have some kind of healing magic, or—”
“Close. I’m an ER nurse,” Lena says amusedly, and when she smiles a dimple emerges on one cheek. “All the witches I know have fled the city, so I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”
“You joke, but Alex dated this witch once, and she hexed my sister to spill her first sip of coffee every time she went to take a drink for three weeks straight after they broke up,” Kara says, and Lena again scrunches her nose in that quizzical way.
“Seriously? Witches are real too?”
“Duh,” Kara says lightly. “What, you thought it stopped at werewolves? Please. I’m pretty sure the neighbor two doors down is a gorgon.”
“Well, it would explain her fondness of statues,” Lena says, strangely nonplussed. “I’ve never asked, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at this point. How do you take your coffee?” As she asks, Lena deposits a few fingers of whiskey into a mug, and at Kara’s questioning look says, “Sorry, we’re all out of painkillers. This is as good as you’re going to get.”
“Maybe I’ll do better if it’s straight,” Kara says, unable to hide her grimace, while Lena shrugs a shoulder as if to say it’s your funeral.
So after Kara showers, she sits on the couch and sips gross whiskey out of a chipped mug that reads World’s Best Mom in bright pink letters. Lena has turned on the TV to the local news station—clearly she has stayed with Sam before—and a man on screen is recounting a tale of how he hit a giant wolf strolling too close to his farm with a baseball bat.
“If I had my shotgun I would’ve killed the fucker,” he swears, red in the face, and above her Lena gives a little scoff.
“What a dick,” Lena says, her hand steadily stitching up the wound on Kara’s scalp, and her voice has a hint of an accent; it’s really cute, actually, and Kara doesn’t even mind that the next poke of the needle is sharper than the others.
It is the strangest morning Kara has ever had. Drinking whiskey before eight in the morning, with a kind stranger who she’s barely met but is suturing her skin together, who smells faintly of lavender soap and strong black coffee.
“—National City is not safe when wolves are wandering close to homes—”
The scent of rich hot chocolate bubbling on the stove is beginning to fill the room, the ancient pipes are rumbling throughout the walls, and Lena’s fingers are soft against her head. Kara closes her eyes and decides that she will wait a little longer before she calls Alex to pick her up.
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Text
0X1=?, m | jjk
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
summary: You were one and he made you both zero. He has it all, a stable life, all that money, a wife lined up, and your body as his drug, him coming back for hit after hit. They called you a bad influence. You called yourself Jeon Jungkook's ex.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; angst; cheating; stereotyping of tattoos; reader is verbally abused by JK's wealthy parents; JK and reader are foolish, wounded animals and act accordingly; rough hate sex (fem reader, biting / marking / scratching, f and m-receiving oral, cowgirl, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS - exes, tattooed, rich!Jungkook x rebellious!reader, ft cameo of Kim Taehyung as JK's best friend
now playing – 0X1=LOVESONG (i know i love you) by txt ft. pH-1, Woodie Gochild, Seori
"I hate you."
"Join the club. Current members, me."
He narrowed his eyes and tossed his keys onto the table next to the door, kicking off his sneakers.
"We gonna fuck or what?"
You raised an eyebrow. "You tell me you hate me and then you want to fuck?"
"Stranger things have happened. I could tell you I love you."
You made a gagging noise. "Disgusting."
He pretended to be shocked. "How could you say such a thing?"
You slammed the door shut and walked past him, not saying anything. You heard him stride behind you, following to your bedroom.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"Right, and I'm a dog. We done lying now?"
"You are a dog," you replied, falling onto the bed.
His head popped into view, long black hair hanging down, half of it pinned back to reveal his undercut and two dangling black earrings on his right ear.
"You fuck dogs? Nasty. I'm not into bestiality, sorry."
You narrowed your eyes at him. "Shut the fuck up, Jungkook."
Jeon Jungkook cocked an eyebrow, adjusting his black turtleneck by hooking a finger on the collar and sliding it from side to side, the small tattoos on his knuckles and fingers dancing with the action.
"Why are you stressed like a nun?"
He clicked his tongue. "Her idea of getting freaky was trying to chew my neck off. Went full piranha on me."
You snorted. "Maybe you deserve it. Would have saved me the trouble."
"Ha, ha, very funny."
He glared at you and you glared back from the bed.
"So, how was fucking my best friend?" he snapped.
You scoffed. "I didn't fuck Taehyung. I told you already."
"That's not what he said."
"So what? I've never seen his dick or had it near my pussy. If he wants to make up shit, that's his prerogative."
Jungkook didn't look like he believed you, but you weren't the one cheating on your girlfriend with your ex, so it wasn't something you cared about. He narrowed his eyes.
"Swear."
"On what?" you shot back. "Your right nut?"
"Your life."
You snorted. "Well apparently to you, that ain't worth shit."
He was reaching for the bottom of his turtleneck and pulling it up and over his head. You felt a tinge of annoyance, seeing the dark, spotted bites on his side and shoulder. He yanked the article of clothing over his head and you spied the one on his neck, a blotted, messy patch of red-purple. It was ugly on his pretty tan skin.
You could do better.
"Your girlfriend know the meaning of sexy?"
"She's not my girlfriend."
"That's not what she or your parents think."
"She and my parents can suck each other's dicks."
"Didn't know you liked dick. Guess that's why we didn't work out."
He tossed his turtleneck aside and growled, crawling onto the bed. Large, powerful, shoulders flexing, copious black tattoos covering his right arm and shoulder, a full sleeve. On the inside of his right bicep was a skull with a knife in its head.
You picked that one, a long time ago.
You looked into his eyes.
He had noticed you glancing at it.
She's ruining your life! Look at you! Tattoos all over your arm and hand! How could you get these ugly things?
Jungkook didn't say anything. He just grabbed your arm and started yanking your clothes off, just like how you grabbed his pants and started pulling them off his body, throwing them violently aside.
Don't you dare speak to our son ever again, you good-for-nothing whore. You think we wouldn't notice your poisonous influence sullying him? It took us months to find a nice, sensible girl willing to put up with your mistakes!
Hands and skin and teeth and hate, tumbling onto the covers, the taste of his flesh on your tongue and his cologne attacking your nose, his large hands gripping your soft thighs, pushing them apart, looking down into those chocolate eyes, the voices melding together, arguments, tirades, chaos, a fucking mess of you biting your tongue while Jungkook stood there and did nothing to defend you.
I hate you so fucking much, Jungkook!
And calling my parents dogs licking the shit off countryside roads is any better? The fuck is wrong with you?!
They were eating me alive in there and you said nothing! Absolutely nothing! I'd go to hell and back for you and you couldn't even say a single fucking word!
You were in hell. You came back.
And now you were in hell again.
"Damn, she must be fucking horrible at making you feel good if you keep coming to me."
Jungkook rolled his eyes and you clamped your thighs around his head, nearly a triangle choke as you dragged him along the sheets, him half-crawling to follow you, shuddering at the close proximity of your pussy to his face. When he spoke, his warm breath saturated your wetness.
"She doesn't even taste half as good as you and never fucking listens when I tell her what I like," he grumbled.
"Yeah? You tell her you like it when you shove your face into pussy?"
He scowled.
"Like I said, she doesn't taste good. I never give her head."
And he attached his lips to your heat, slurping noisily, sighing in satisfaction as you squeezed his head with your thighs, hot and slick tongue sparking your sensitive skin, fuck, yes, this is what pussy should taste like, so sweet, fuck, familiar and erotic, his hands sliding up and gripping your ass, firm and solid while staring up at you, opening his mouth and letting you see the pink, wet muscle flick and dance over your clit, ghosting it with pleasure but not giving it to you, your honey-like juices glistening on his lips and chin.
You clenched your jaw. "Get serious already. Stop fucking around."
Jungkook narrowed his eyes.
"I'm always serious with you."
His lips closed in and he made your mind go blank, soft black hair fanning out on your thigh, fast, swift, powerful licks all over your sensitive bundle of nerves, sending shocks and jolts of pleasure shooting up your spine from your core, one of your hands twisting in his hair, bunching it up, his sharp jaw cutting into your inner thighs because you were squeezing so hard, but Jungkook didn't care, always saying, do it, choke me with your thighs, if I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die eating you out, his long fingers splayed out over your ass and pushing your hips into his face, making you hump his waiting mouth and his punishing tongue, hot flames of desire taking over, your head tipping back, pulling on his long hair, moans of his name tumbling from your throat, suck harder, fuck, seeing black from the sudden blinding tension, his skillful tongue fiercely teasing your engorged clit in the overwhelming tightness, snapping the strings of sanity.
"J-Jungkook!"
The impossible high, the violent shivers, shooting into accelerated free-fall, your fingers unclasping from his hair and pushing his head into your throbbing core, his tongue shoving into your folds and moaning at the sensation of your muscles clamping around it, sucking it all out, your orgasm consumed by his greedy mouth.
Your name vibrated in your own pussy, delivered by sinning lips and hazy dark brown orbs drugged with lust.
Back then, when it was falling apart, you told Jungkook all sorts of things and he said all sorts of things back. Painful things, hateful things, pitiful things, pointless things, never having a real conversation about how deeply he hurt you.
Only later, a strange moment, seeing Jungkook at your front door, seeing it in his eyes. Something different.
He asked you if you wanted to fuck with no strings attached.
You bit back, as wounded animals do.
Why? You were such a waste of time.
Jungkook didn't know it, but his next words made you agree to this ridiculous arrangement.
Yeah, but I was your waste of time and that's all I ever wanted to be.
When he kissed you now, it was hungry and heady, drunk on your taste and you, forcing his tongue into your mouth and thrusting into your lips. Tangled bodies, tangled tongues, tangled minds, falling into the bed, his hands in your hair and yours in his, whispers of, she'll never make you feel as good as I can make you feel, your lips and tongue all over his jaw and ear, biting down on it, earrings jingling against your cheek, his moan above your head as you traveled down, marking his skin with sharp bites and thick swipes of saliva, pretty pink marks all over his torso, contrasting the bruises.
"Of course not," Jungkook panted, a shuddering groan torn out of his throat as your nails raked down his back and then glided back up, fingertips pressing into the irritated skin, soothing it. "She never fucking listens to me or my body because she's an idiot."
You traced the curves of his muscles, lips ghosting kisses, hot and soft and sharp from breath and tongue and teeth, his body becoming yours from persistent, familiar touch, his name in your mouth and on his skin, your saliva dripping over his hard, thick length, and then your mouth was on it, his taste on your tongue, in your throat, and in your memory.
Jungkook moaned your name.
With longing, pain, and love.
When's the wedding?
Next year.
Huh. Good for you.
No, it isn't, and you know it. Bet you're glad I'm going to be miserable forever.
You've made me miserable forever, so serves you right.
"Get off, I don't want to blow my load in two seconds, fuck!"
You swallowed him as deep as you could and then pushed your head down so the tip was buried into your throat, swelling and twitching at the unbearable, euphoric constriction.
"F-Fuck, please, let go, fuck... oooh, shit..."
Your tongue outlined the underside of his length, humming around his cock, rubbing the base of the head and straining to slurp at it, letting him hear you, lewd, obscene, unafraid.
If he really wanted to, he could pull out now.
Jungkook breathed your name, savoring every syllable.
You stared into dark brown eyes, black pupils expanded, watching his jaw flinch and his shoulders shake, black tattoos shivering as you slowly removed your tight mouth, popping it off his cock with a wet plop.
His normally smooth, silvery voice was trembling, the pleasure deepening it.
"God, I hate you."
Jungkook and you could say it a thousand times, a million times, for all of time, and both of you would know neither ever meant it.
I love you.
Get out, Jungkook.
But–
Get the fuck out! You think you can fuck me and tell me you love me? Like that's going to somehow negate all the previous bullshit you put me though? No. Take your clothes and your pathetic self and get out. Come crawling back to me on your knees when she reaffirms to you that I'll be the best fuck you'll ever have.
He would. He did.
Over and over.
You towered over him now, waiting for him to roll the condom down, watching his face as you sank down onto his stiff length, seeing the elation, the gratification, the absolute bliss in the way your pussy suffocated him, tight, wet, his, your head dipping down and taking his lips, yours, fitting yourself around his girth that became harder as you bottomed out, his moan feathering over your lips as you rolled your hips into his with a firm smack.
"Oh, fuck, feels so fucking good..."
He knows you're not going to fuck someone else. You have to see other people so he finally realizes how important you are to him.
That's the stupidest shit I've ever heard in my life, Taehyung.
If you don't refuse him, he won't change.
I was never important enough to him in the first place.
Those chocolate orbs watching you, his strong hands on your hips, fingers pressing into your skin and leaving crescents of his nails, matching your pace, harsh, deep slaps of skin to skin, your name on the tip of his tongue, balanced in the tightrope of all or nothing, zero or one.
They want me to take over the family business.
Having a trophy wife is important for that kinda shit.
You're the perfect trophy.
Yeah, me and my mechanical heart.
Jungkook switched your positions, rolling over and pinning you down, perfect white teeth sinking into his pink lower lip, the black mole underneath prominent against his tense jaw, fucking you into your mattress, panting, giving you his all, aching pleasure with every rough thrust, your back arching and hands on his long black hair, clutching his head and raising your hips to meet that full hardness and to hit your favorite spot, sending bursting sparks of ecstasy up your spine and into your lungs, rendering you airless.
Nothing but pleasure, nothing but need, nothing but physicality.
“Look at me,” Jungkook rasped, hoarse from breathing so hard.
You lowered your head and raised an eyebrow. His parted lips had small cuts from stress-biting them. His tan skin was as lovely as ever, dotted with small moles on his nose, cheek, neck, underneath his lip, kisses from the moon, not bothering to wear makeup to cover them. He never did, not with you, not when his time could be better utilized being all over you. Dark brows and chocolate eyes, large, sharp, expressive, beautiful, your Jungkook.
Your country, your world, your universe.
You smirked as you looked at that face. He cocked a brow, black curls falling over his eye as you lifted your hand.
“You know what would piss them off?”
You didn’t need to say who.
He clicked his tongue and slammed his hips down on you, but you only clenched around him, causing him to pause and savor the feeling. His length wrapped in your warmth, connected in the most visceral way, his breath mixing with your breath. Dark brown orbs on you, half-lidded and shadowed by his lashes and long hair.
“What?”
You pushed his hair aside and traced his right eyebrow, stroking the hairs of the tail.
“If you got a face piercing.”
Jungkook grinned, low chuckle in his throat. “Yeah?”
You lifted yourself up to smack your hips into him, holding onto his broad shoulders with your other arm to balance yourself, devious smirk on your lips.
“You won’t do it.”
He leaned down, putting more force into each thrust. Your grip tightening, gasping into his face, eye to eye, dragged along by Jungkook’s intensity and passion, breathing in his exhale, drinking in his fervor, blind to the wrongness, deaf to everything but the sound of bodies, wetness to hardness, and the way he said your name, like there was nothing else, nothing but you and him and ecstasy, nothing but the sensation of how hard and how full his cock felt when he was inside you, nothing but how strongly and viciously you pulsed around him, toppling over the edge, moaning his name and staring into his eyes, into the eyes of the one that made you orgasm and mean it with every fiber of your being.
“Jungkook…”
He sucked in a breath and gasped your name, cock twitching and spurting into the condom, plunging forward, kissing you hungrily and deeply, shoulders shaking in your hands, stealing your breath, muffled cries sliding into your throat from his, anguish at the force of his climax, sweeping you up with him.
It was a long kiss.
He finally broke it, heavy exhale against your lips, not lifting his head, his black hair spilling all over your face, not letting you see anything.
Mouthing words against your cheek that you could feel, but it was a silent utterance, a soundless scream into the abyss that he alone was sinking, living a life without you.
Enjoy your piranha.
Ha, ha, very funny.
She’s not gonna notice?
He hadn’t said anything, pulling his turtleneck over his head and shaking out his long black hair like a dog. You had pulled your blankets over your naked body and looked away, not wanting to see him any longer.
You’re trash, Jungkook.
Yeah, but I could buy you a Louis Vuitton bag, easy.
You’ve been hanging around your parents too much. I don’t give a shit about your money or your influence and I never did.
Everyone likes money.
Everyone likes you too. Oh, wait, except me. I guess I’m excluded from everyone.
He hadn’t said anything more. You didn’t tell him goodbye when he left.
You waited until your heart became numb again. Then you mechanically crawled out of bed and cleaned up all traces of his existence, going all the way outside to dispose of the condom and the wrapper so you wouldn’t accidentally look at them in the trash later. You put your clothes back on, one by one, and went about your day. And the next day. And the next. And the.
And.
“Are you okay?”
“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine,” you would say to whoever asked. You would smile and nod.
Time went on.
You would open the door and no one was there.
You would close the door and go back inside.
You would open the door.
And Jeon Jungkook was there, with a cut on his lip and a black-purple bruise underneath his left eye.
His right eyebrow was slightly swollen, two stainless steel balls connected by a silver bar pierced into the end of his brow. His clothes were torn up, his white dress shirt dirtied and his dark wash jeans torn, brown mud caked on one knee. He looked at you, chest shuddering, wheezing for breath.
“Hah…”
He smirked, the gesture not reaching his eyes. Those dark brown orbs were desolate, numb. He wiped his lip with the back of his hand and winced.
“I think they’re mad at me.”
You raised your eyebrows.
He flicked a hand through his now short black hair and ticked his head. “They told me not to show my face in front of them ever again and that I can kiss my inheritance goodbye.”
You leaned against your doorframe. “They took the silver spoon from your mouth over an eyebrow piercing?”
Jungkook shrugged. “I guess it pissed them off when I said I wasn’t going to take it out.”
He made eye contact and you saw him trying to tell you that he had changed.
Well.
Was forced to change, now poor and cast away.
“I know you said I was a waste of time,” Jungkook sighed, heavy and remorseful. “But I was your waste of time and that was all I ever wanted to be.”
You looked into those chocolate orbs that always told you they loved you.
“They knew, huh?”
He smiled ruefully. “I didn’t try to hide it. She knew, they knew, they probably all knew where I went.”
“And what will you do when they ask you to come back?”
Jungkook stood at your doorstep and told you words that you had always wanted to hear, but he had been too afraid to say, afraid of the repercussions, confused of his own feelings, too selfish at the time to realize how much he had hurt you. Time and emptiness had taught him pain and taught him what it meant to be without.
The time taught him how it felt to be not one, but zero.
“Tell them I should have left a long time ago and stayed with you, because you always let me be whoever I wanted to be even though all I was doing was wasting your time.”
He faced you, you and your mechanical heart that he created with his silence.
“I’m sorry.”
His apology meant nothing to you, far too late.
“Now I have nothing but time.”
It never mattered. You always knew Jungkook was sorry from the moment he asked to fuck with no strings attached. It was for him and for you. For him to touch you once more, even if it was all a lie, and for you and your mechanical heart, cleaning off the rust and giving it a moment to feel. He knew. You knew.
Without each other, you were both zeros when you could have been one.
And it was all his fault.
I know you’re not here, but I love you, Jungkook.
You sighed.
Then you shrugged.
“Yeah, well, I got nothing but time too.” You tilted your head, chuckling. “And even now, I waste it on you.”
Jungkook smiled sadly. He didn’t ask to be forgiven. He didn’t ask to be invited in. He just stood at your doorstep, finally able to say the words he should have said. He didn’t ask you to love him. You already knew he loved you. He mouthed it all the time, I love you, against your cheek, after each and every rendezvous, without fail.
Now he had nothing.
But you could see he was going to give it his all this time.
You stepped away from the doorframe and turned around, waving him in.
“If you’re gonna be my waste of time, at least wash your face.”
-
continued in LO$ER=?, m | jjk
--
masterpost
508 notes · View notes
infernalrevenge · 3 years
Note
Hello, hello! I was wondering if I could possibly request your take on Reader and each of the Dimitrescu Daughters with how they show affection? Nuzzles, kisses, hugs/snuggles, terms of endearment, gifts, nsfw, etc. One big fluff-ball. Just bury me in the warm fuzzy. Thank you!
This is excellent timing, anon friendo because I had been thinking of making a Love Languages Headcanon List for some time now, so this is a great way to start on that! I hope this satisfies your mushy fluffy warm fuzzball desires (that I kept relatively PG) :P
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Bela Dimitrescu
Bela felt that she had a reputation to uphold as the eldest daughter of the Dimitrescu family, ever so meticulous yet also eager to please. But she does know her boundaries.
More often than not, she finds herself busy with her mother in helping run the business, hoping to one day become a proper heir. I mention all this so you know her situation -- she's a working gal and you gotta respect that.
However, she is not one to leave her loved ones hanging. The best way she shows her love is by spending quality time with you, doing things that you might enjoy. It gives her a chance to better get to know her love.
Of course she would have her way as well, doing activities she liked such as art, music, and more. You two might even try something new to the both of you, just for some added thrill.
It doesn't always have to be "something" to do though, she's more than happy to just simply be in the same space as you while you do your own thing. That counts as "doing something together", right?
You could be reading a book on one corner of the room and she could be reviewing some important notes on the bed, but you two are just so comfortable in the quiet space you've made for yourselves that it feels like you two are side-by-side.
She just likes to know you're there, your presence alone is a great source of comfort to her. She loves to see you happy and content, especially knowing it's because she's around. Once you get into it, there is no such thing as an awkward silence between the two of you.
I imagine she's not that big on initiating physical affection, but she would be hard pressed to deny you anything. From something as simple as holding her hand, to spooning and cuddling, to a full-on make out session -- all you have to do is ask. She's more than happy to deliver.
Her favorite position is being the big spoon in bed, finding a lot of comfort in knowing that you are in her grasp, safe and sound. She also enjoys planting a few kisses on your shoulder and neck in an attempt to rouse you from slumber.
While she was still courting you (because I like to imagine she's a bit of an old-fashioned romantic, but she would have courted you regardless of your gender), she would often bring you gifts. They weren't extravagant, but they were definitely meaningful, and often related to things you two had talked about in the past.
She didn't use pet names very often but she will call you "love" on occasion, especially if there was a chance you would call her that in return. She may not openly admit it but she just melts every time you call her that -- made it feel like having a crush on you all over again.
Even though she may seem distant on the outside, Bela is truly a woman who makes the most of her time with people she cares about. You are no exception to that, and she wants that to be known to you as much and as often as possible.
Cassandra Dimitrescu
Cassandra, much like her older sister, believes she too has a reputation to uphold within the family. Can't have her be seen going soft for just anyone.
But uh, plot twist: Girl just wants to be loved, and she doesn't even know it.
In private, she really really loves physical affection. She shows her love by clinging onto you as tightly as possible, melding so closely to you that it becomes hard to tell where her body ended and yours began.
She loves pressing her cheek and ear against your chest to hear the calming beat of your heart, the warmth of your skin just under her fingertips, and her head tucked right under your chin while you two lay in bed together.
Truthfully, she started doing this when you first got together because she enjoyed how flustered you seemed when she basically had herself wrapped around you. But over time, the both of you realized just how much she liked being this close to you too. You teased her for it once and she shut you out of your own room for a while. (She only let you back in because she suddenly missed cuddling you.)
This was a trait that kind of carried over from her hunting instincts, but she was very observant of others -- their tics, habits, routines, and all the like. She took notice of a lot of things other people did, didn't do, and couldn't do. It made her very attentive to her loved ones.
This manifested in the form of performing acts of service. Toward you, it ranged from simple things like keeping objects that were usually out of your reach to a more manageable height (either by her own action or an order to a servant) to helping you relax after a long and tiring day, to even performing your chores for you if she knew you were having a hard time with them.
Anything that she could help with to make herself useful, she would do. She wanted her loved ones to move around comfortably and without much worry, and she would take on that burden if that was what it took.
Granted it didn't necessarily mean she did well in these endeavors, but the effort did not go unnoticed. And you would never see the girl try to half-ass anything -- once she started on a task, you bet your sweet ass she was going to get it done too.
Her terms of "endearment" were very teasing and, out of context, could be downright insulting. You would never hear anything so generic as "baby" or "sweetie" (unless she was being condescending.) "Little shit" (affectionate) was more her speed.
If you also called her nicknames with a similar amount of creativity, she would return it with the same enthusiasm. She didn't take those things to heart anyway. If insults were a love language, this would be one of hers.
Cassandra is a little rough around the edges when it comes to love and intimacy, but she loves so fiercely. It's like a fire, raging on the more you feed its maw -- the only difference is that this fire would never die out.
Daniela Dimitrescu
Daniela is the most affectionate and most likely to be a hopeless romantic in the family. She always daydreamed of having a "knight in shining armor" of her own, but honestly she'll take anyone who would love her for herself.
Definitely the type to show off her wonderful significant other, either "subtly" through a bit of PDA, or more overtly through a lot of PDA and more grand gestures of love. Just let her do this, she has so much love to give and she needs that energy to go somewhere.
Even in private spaces, she would never let go of your hand if she had her way. Trying to separate from her when she wasn't in the mood would get you the "kicked puppy dog" treatment from her. It's not her fault you were so warm and nice to be around.
She loves being the little spoon in bed. There's just something reassuring about having a warm presence right behind her, your arms wrapped around her middle. You could even kick a leg on top of her waist -- all she wants is to get as close to you as she possibly can.
When you're working on a desk and sitting on a chair, she will inevitably sit on your lap and snuggle up against you while you try to do whatever it is you're doing. No matter how many times she promises that "you won't even know she's there", it's kind of hard to ignore the way she just buries her face into your neck and the little snores coming out of her if she falls asleep like this.
Calls you very cheesy and almost strange pet names like "honey pie" and "sweetie baby boo". You're never sure if she actually meant them or was messing with you because of her tone, but you can tell she was always amused by your reaction to them, which was part of the reason she kept saying them.
She did also have an inner poet though, so she may suddenly pull lines like "the moon to my night" that would make you stumble and wonder what had possessed your girlfriend. And then you would remember how much she enjoyed reading romance novels, so it made more sense.
Sometimes she'll pull them out early in the morning right as you two were just waking up, limbs entangled with the other's. Then you'd hear her call you "light of my life" in her deep sleepy voice, and you just have to hide the big goofy smile on your face behind a pillow or something.
She also loves to give you gifts, mostly because she liked how your face would light up whenever you received one. Oftentimes, they are little trinkets that remind her of you that she spotted one day and thought to give to you. Kind of like a cat presenting a dead mouse or bird to its owner, but not as gross.
She says "I love you" and any similar declarations pretty often, but the words never lose their meaning. Just know that she always says them with her whole heart, regardless of the tone she takes on when she does.
She also enjoys doing random acts of affection because she likes seeing how you react to them, whether you get all blushy and a little embarrassed, or you return them in kind. Either way, she is very happy and it gives her the warm fuzzies when you play along.
Like I said, Daniela just has so much love to give, and she would be so happy to see that energy enthusiastically returned. Just give her a chance and you'll never have to doubt her feelings for you.
225 notes · View notes
tennessoui · 3 years
Note
would you ever do a hunger games au? like anakin and obi-wan in the arena and doing a katniss and peeta thing where they both survive? anakin maybe killing the competitors so obi-wan wouldn't have to? (just thinking that child killing is in character for him) anyway no pressure or anything I just haven't stopped thinking about a hunger games au of obikin and. I thought maybe you could do something with it!
i need you to know i shamefully snorted at the child murder thing i'm sorry and i'm also sorry this took so long and it's a bit all over the place and doesn't actually get into the Games at all (+ it's been years since I read the books so all inaccuracies should be tastefully ignored pls) this may not be what you asked for tbh but here you go!!
(content warnings: hunger games typical discussion of child murder, but nothing graphic)
(1.7k)
Anakin’s first emotion after his name is called is a strange sense of relief.
Good, he thinks. I’ll get to go with Obi-Wan. He won’t be alone.
He dutifully steps forward out of the crowd towards the stage, where the announcer is waiting next to Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan who is looking at him with an expression of naked devastation.
Anakin tries to convey that it’ll be alright, that it’s fine, that they knew this was a possibility. Sure, it’s Anakin’s last year eligible to be in the Games. Sure his nineteenth birthday is in two weeks, at which point he would become too old to qualify as a child to the Capitol, but what’s done is done.
Obi-Wan will be his mentor, because Obi-Wan has been the mentor for District Four ever since he won his own Games seven years ago when he was sixteen and Anakin was twelve.
That year’s known unofficially as the most boring Games in Panem history, but the Capitol loves how handsome Obi-Wan’s grown to be. So what if he didn’t kill his competitors messily or with a bloodthirsty joy? He’s so polite in his interviews all these years later, and look at those dimples!
It makes Anakin sick, every time Obi-Wan has to leave District Four and travel to the Capitol to be fawned over and stroked and used. His nightmares are always worse the weeks after he gets back, and he never lets Anakin hold him during them.
And it’s even worse during the actual Games, when Obi-Wan is put in charge of two children’s lives only to see them brutally murdered on screen a week later. The cameras always show his reaction when the competitors from District Four die. They must think he cries pretty or something.
Anakin hates the Capitol. He hates them for what they’ve done to Obi-Wan. What they’ve made him into
As he gets close enough to the stage, he notices that Obi-Wan’s hands are shaking slightly.
He doesn’t even listen to the name of the girl being called. She’s not important. She’ll be dead in a few days time. What’s important is Obi-Wan. What’s important is comforting him, is reassuring him. Is coming back to him.
This is the moment when Anakin resolves that these Games will become known as the quickest in history.
---
The girl is understandably sullen and upset on the train. “I should get a different mentor!” she demands. “It’s obvious you’re going to play favorites with him.”
Anakin doesn’t snap back because she’ll be dead in a few days. Though she really shouldn’t use that tone with Obi-Wan.
“I’m not playing favorites,” Obi-Wan insists. “I don’t have favorites.”
“You literally just wiped sauce off his mouth with your finger,” the girl points out. “And then he licked it!”
Anakin smirks at her. Of course Obi-Wan has favorites. Of course Anakin is Obi-Wan’s favorite. It took him years to wear down Obi-Wan until he allowed him this close, and years after that until he finally got to kiss him for the first time, just a few months ago.
If she thinks he’s going to give up any of his Obi-Wan time so she can get her hopes up about not dying in a few days, she’s got another thing coming.
But Obi-Wan shifts away from him and he looks guilty.
If Anakin could get away with killing the other person from his district, he would. But it’d probably make Obi-Wan sad.
“Is whining part of your strategy?” he asks waspishly instead. “I don’t think it’ll make you many allies.”
She has the nerve to look offended.
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan chides. Underneath the table, he squeezes his knee.
“Everyone in the district knows about you two,” she glares at him. “You haven’t exactly kept it a secret.”
Anakin hasn’t exactly tried to keep it a secret. The first night Obi-Wan had kissed him, he went straight home and told his mother, his neighbor, his schoolmates, his cat, and his ex-girlfriend.
(No one had been surprised, except maybe the cat.)
“It’s not fair,” she cries. “Who can I talk to to get a different mentor for me?”
“The ethics board,” Anakin smiles, all teeth, settling back into his seat and slinging an arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulders.
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says again, this time more exasperatedly. “Robin, I promise I will be the best mentor you can ask for. It is my wish to see you survive as long as possible in the next few weeks.”
The girl jumps to her feet in outrage. “You can’t even say you want me to win!” she yells. There are tears at the corners of her eyes. If she were a little less annoying, Anakin would feel quite bad for her. Obviously Obi-Wan doesn’t want her to win. Anakin’s right here.
She storms out of the train compartment, her face in her hands. Anakin barely waits for the door to close before he’s slipping into Obi-Wan’s lap and throwing his arms around his neck with a groan. “God, I thought she’d never leave.”
He isn’t pushed away. Obi-Wan must realize they only have a handful of days left to be together before he goes into the arena.
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says wearily, even as his arms encircle his waist.
Anakin presses a kiss to his nose and then another to his cheek. “It’s alright to have favorites, Obi-Wan,” he murmurs. “And she should know there’s no way she’s winning anything. Don’t waste your time.”
“I will do everything I can to make sure she survives as long as possible,” Obi-Wan repeats. “I don’t think I can survive anything else.”
Obi-Wan’s voice sounds shaky, so Anakin presses their lips together. Best not to talk for awhile.
------
“We should discuss strategy,” Obi-Wan says later that night through frantic kisses. “Sponsors, story, training--”
“I have a strategy,” Anakin murmurs back as he moves further down the bed, rucking up his partner’s shirt. “Win.”
----
“You look absolutely radiant,” Anakin tells the girl in an undertone while they’re in line for their interviews. She turns around to glare at him. The designer for their district has gone for the typical fish designs that people always associate with District Four, and they’ve dressed her up in a shimmering iridescent gown that flares at the ends like a fish’s tail.
Anakin’s own outfit is mostly a fishing net draped over one shoulder and a pair of tight pants. The designer, much to Obi-Wan’s embarrassment and Anakin’s satisfaction, had taken one look at his shirtless chest and decided to dress him in as little clothes as possible.
“Weird braid,” is all she says.
Obi-Wan had done it late last night when both of them had tired each other out and Anakin had curled up on his chest. After his Games, Obi-Wan’s hands like to do something. The repetitive motion of braiding and unbraiding Anakin’s hair soothes his demons.
It’s one of the reasons Anakin’s grown it out to his shoulders, much longer than is practical for his district.
Obi-Wan had gone to unbraid it, and Anakin had stopped him. He wanted to keep it. To wear it into the Games.
“Thank you,” he says generously. “I saw your score. 7’s not too bad.”
She sneers at him. “Did you celebrate your 11 with your boyfriend?”
“Oh sorry,” he winces. “Did you hear us? I’m just so bad at biting my tongue when he does this thing with his.”
She scoffs in disgust and turns back around. “I hope he has to watch you die.”
Anakin glares at her back. He knows he can’t kill her himself. But there has to be a way to hurt her and her chances and still have plausible deniability.
When it’s her turn for an interview, she’s vapid and pretty. She laughs and touches the interviewer’s arm.
“I’ve never spent much time in District Four,” the interviewer says jovially. “But tell me, really. Is everyone there as beautiful as the people you keep sending us? I mean. Obi-Wan Kenobi, ladies and gentlemen, am I right?” The audience laughs and hollers. Anakin hates them all. “And now you, Robin, and Anakin Skywalker. Damn!”
Robin--Anakin needs to stop forgetting her name--giggles high in her throat. “It was a very, very enjoyable train ride up,” she says with a stupid wiggle of her eyebrows. “Just this side of too long.”
The audience loses it.
Anakin loses it.
He can’t believe she’s sitting there publicly suggesting that Anakin shares Obi-Wan with anyone. With her. The nerve.
The camera pans to Obi-Wan in the crowd, who looks shocked, embarrassed, and deeply troubled.
Anakin won’t let this stand. He just hopes Obi-Wan forgives him.
The interviewer greets him excitedly when he walks out, and Anakin gives him a sheepish sort of smile.
“Lady killer Skywalker!” the interviewer says. Anakin laughs along with him. “All the girls back home must have been heartbroken to see you leave.”
“But I’ve heard they love watching me go,” he jokes with a charming smile. If that girl--Robin--can do it, he can do it much better. “There’s really only one person for me though,” he murmurs, letting his smile die.
“Oh?” The interviewer asks, leaning forward with interest.
“But sometimes I wonder if they’re only using me for my body,” he says, casting his eyes down. “I love them. Heart and soul, everything I am. But when I told them, they just laughed.”
This is technically true. The first time Anakin had told Obi-Wan that he was in love with him, the older boy had laughed his confession off, saying he was too young to know what he wanted.
“Oh, to be young and in love,” the interviewer sighs theatrically. “So your plan is to win the Games and then win her heart when you get back home?”
Anakin makes himself look sad. Tragically sad. Like he can’t bear to go on.
“They came with me,” he says.
If the audience’s reaction to Robin’s fake confession was huge, its reaction to Anakin’s words is even bigger. Of course they think he’s talking about the girl. That’s exactly what Anakin had wanted. Now he’s the broken-hearted boy and she’s the vapid, self-absorbed bitch. She'll have a hard time finding sponsors now.
It’s very, very hard to hide his smile, a task made exponentially more hard when he sees Obi-Wan bury his face in his hands.
“It’s alright,” Anakin tells the interviewer, without taking his eyes off of Obi-Wan. “I’ll survive.”
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rayderock · 2 years
Text
Poppy wanted to spend time with Bea but Bea is busy so Poppy tries to distract her.
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P: Yeah sorry Ms. Hughes I’m afraid Bea can’t really attend the dinner event sadly, she’s really busy with her project at the moment.
Ms.H: I understand, well tell her to at least eat something and for the love of God get some rest. God knows how long she intends on staying up to finish.
P: Yes of course ma’am. Good night.
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Poppy hangs up her call with Ms. Hughes, Bea’s mother to tell her they had to cancel their plans for a family dinner due to Bea focusing on her project.
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P: Hughes you’ve been working on that thing for 3 hours now, you barely had anything to eat, hell I would dare say you haven’t showered at all since the morning, can you please take a goddamn break? You’ll burn yourself out! How am I supposed to enjoy time with my girlfriend if she’ll end up dead?!
B: Sorry Pops with all this extra drama with Persephone and Apodeia shit I didn’t really have much time to catch up and do my college projects plus I’m pretty sure I won’t die from 3 hours of not eating or showering, also let’s not kid ourselves you sorta had a hand in this too Pop since I also had to focus on you running for the top spot. So if you’ll excuse me I need to get back to work, we’ll spend time together when I’m done.
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Poppy was thinking hard on how to get Bea all to herself because like it or not, Bea’s right. She had it a bit easier because she could just ask someone to do her shit and pay them after, Bea wanted to do it herself so she could learn and she always admired that about her but Poppy wanted to be selfish and have Bea’s attention all on her. She slowly started climbing on Bea’s lap.
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B: Pops what’re you-
Bea watched as Poppy finally straddled her lap facing her, faces inches apart, her face was neutral but her brown eyes are filled with determination, longing and fear.
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P: Hughes this is ridiculous, you can’t seriously work on this project all day with no breaks! You might be crazy but not stupid, well maybe sometimes but either way I will not stand by and watch my girlfriend work herself to the bone with no rest or care. Plus according to your schedule this project is due within a month, so why? Is it to avoid me? Am I not good enough to be your girlfriend? Please tell me Hughes, do you regret it?
Poppy was scared. It wasn’t the first time someone using her just because of her name and status, so she knows not to expect much but she knew Bea wasn’t one of them and she genuinely cared for her but there will always be that voice in her head that tells her otherwise.
B: I’m...I’m sorry you felt like that Pops and no of course not, you’re the perfect girlfriend for me, yes you may have done some shitty things, yes you aren’t the definition of perfect but you’re enough for me Poppy and I will never regret being your girlfriend, I’ll say it a thousand times until you finally know it. As for the project I just wanted to finish as soon as possible so we could spend more time together on the long run, that’s all Pops. I promise I’ll eat and shower regularly too!
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Poppy closed her eyes and gave a small smile while moving her face closer to Bea not enough to touch but just enough to feel her hot breath on her face, hands caressing her face while Bea’s hands were hugging the strawberry blondes waist.
P: Hmm I’ll accept that answer, I guess it makes more sense. I’m sorry for doubting your intentions, I know you wouldn’t do something like that. You can continue doing your project or “Poppy gave a small smirk while moving to Bea’s ear and lowering her voice to a whisper” You could have me, right here right now, however rough you want. I know you want me Bea, I know you can feel how much I want it. Give in Bea, you can finish the project another time, we barely spend any time together now and I’d like to make up for that lost time. So what’ll it be Bea? Will you be a good girl?
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Bea was conflicted, she wanted to finish her project early so she could spend time with Poppy but at the same time Poppy is offering herself to her in exchange of doing her project at a later date. The answer was obvious so with that Bea leaned in to kiss Poppy while Poppy reciprocated the kiss which soon turned heated. When they parted they were breathless and blushing.
B: It’ll always be you Poppy. No matter what
P: Good girl
@jmojellybae @baexpoppy @minsinclair @samanthadalton​
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chil2de · 3 years
Note
Hi!! if possible can i please request yuuta having a girlfriend that’s his childhood friend? (So like instead of rika it’s y/n and she doesn’t die) that loves to dote on him cause that boy needs some love. Thank you!! <3
PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE THIS MADE ME SO SOFT!!!!! ohmygod!!!! growing up with yuuta would be THE best onshdhfsh thank you sososos much anon this was such a pleasure to write! i don’t know why but the “and she doesn’t die” had me screaming LMFAOOOO
enjoy! no warnings, just old fashioned cute fluff and heart wrenching moments! thank you for giving me the opportunity to write for the best boy mwaaah you deserve eternal happiness! hope no insects bite you during these warm months <3
“okkotsu!” you cried out, feminine and shrill voice ringing in the air. the cicadas chirped melodiously, calling out their delightful songs in the spring air.
the young boy staggered around, losing his balance from spinning too fast. his fragile hands reached out, pulling in small grabby motions towards your innocent and joyous face.
you were always so optimistic, even when you were younger. yuuta could only huff and wail as his caretaker hauled him away from the playground, gesturing it was time for him to come home. thick and messy tears spilled out the corners of his eyes which hadn’t yet endured countless sleep devoid nights.
he was so far away, but that was okay because you knew you’d see him the very next day.
“okkotsu! promise to play with me again tomorrow!” you cupped your hands, exclaiming as much as your little lungs could endure. yuuta could see the tears heavy in your gaze, but even then, you prevailed. you grinned, all for him.
ever since the very start. till ‘death do us apart.
-
“okkotsu! come oooon, don’t cry, okay? (y/n)’s got your back! see, see?! look! they don’t bite!” you braved a smirk on your features, beckoning the shy and introverted young man over. his face looked uncertain and his lips wobbled as though he could crack at any moment. he took a few cautious steps, maintaining his distance between you and the furry animal on the floor.
“r-really? it won’t bite?” he coughed, reaching his unstable fingertips out.
“eh?! that’s the first time you’ve spoken to me! your voice is so nice! it’s so cool! hey! can i hear it again? pleaaaase? i know you’re shy but i’d really like to hear it! hey, okkotsu, say my name? pretty please?”
“um- i, uh.. it’s okay.. you can call me yuuta.”
-
“yuuta! you’re going to be late for your first day of junior high! i totally told you to wake up on time too!” you stood with your hands rested firmly on your hips, face stern and tone impatient.
“sorry! sorry- it’s um, my hair. i don’t know how to style it.” he admitted, albeit sheepishly by trailing the last few words off into a murmur. you only gave him a sigh before kneeling down behind him, propping yourself up to take a look at his hair in the reflection of the mirror.
“how on earth are you so tall already? we eat the same food, you know. slouch over a little.” you pinched his cheeks before glossing over his hair.
when you ran your fingertips through his hair, you felt butterflies and anxiety rock your stomach.
that’s never been there before.
you’ve touched yuuta countless times, whether that was accidentally hitting him, holding his hand to cross the street…
so why was it different?
you could feel yuuta’s body tense up and run rigid underneath your touch.
that definitely wasn’t there before.
“relax. it’s me.” you cooed quietly, roughing up his hair into different styles.
“like this? looks like you just woke up, sorta, but i think it’s cute.”
yuuta’s heart rate skyrocketed through the roof and his breath hitched.
“cute?” he reiterated, chewing out the phrase like he’d never heard it before in his life.
“hm? yeah-“
you caught his gaze in the mirror, eyes half lidded and attention averted. the tips of his ears were tainted a deep red with small flicks of blush painting his cheeks.
“eh?! nononono- not like that i’m- i just think it suits you, you know? oh, crap, would you look at the time? okay we gotta go and leave!” you clambered out of his bedroom, thudding the door shut behind you.
yuuta only gawked at you with bewilderment, lips slightly parted and fingertips outstretched in his failed attempt to stop you.
he turned to himself in the mirror, studying his features before running one hand through his jet black locks.
“cute, huh?” he muttered, avoiding his own judgemental gaze.
-
the bittersweet part about growing up with a childhood friend is change.
for all the time that you’d spent with yuuta, you didn’t realise that your relationship with him was something to not take for granted.
especially with those around you who would kill for what you two have.
you’d always get mundane questions from high school girls who thought they could have a shot with him, “what’s his type?” “do you think he likes me?”
meanwhile you only played along with their charades, laughing inwardly when he was actually extremely introverted.
“so? what’s the deal with you and okkotsu-san? you guys dating?”
“no. we’re just friends.”
“seriously? you guys are always glued at the hip. you know he has a picture of you in his locker, right?”
“yeah? so do i. it doesn’t mean anything.”
“it’s kind of a shame, he’s such a nice young man.. gone to waste like that..”
“what’s gone to waste?” yuuta inquired with an indifferent tone, plopping down beside you with his bento box. the classmate sat opposite you only gave him a phony cheerful temperament, twirling her index finger around her hair.
“oh! okkotsu-senpai! we were just talking about you! how was your da-“
“please leave.”
you could only gape at him in your peripherals, sputtering on your sandwich as you watched the life drain from your classmate at his monotony. yuuta didn’t spare you or the girl a glance as he worked to unpack his lunch, hell the guy even murmured a small itadakimasu as if nothing happened.
“wh- okkotsu senpai?”
“listen.” he let out a deep sigh before proceeding.
“whatever shot you thought you had with me? it’s gone out the window. don’t disrespect (y/n) in front of me like that again.”
“you’re making us uncomfortable, so get up and go.” he motioned with his chopsticks, giving her a dead gaze towards another table.
the girl scoffed, mouth hung wide open as she picked up her bag and stormed out of sight.
whilst your face was as blank as a stone, internally, you were only screaming in the depths of piping hot hell visible from the sun itself.
baby girl? that was when you noticed how fucking fine of a man yuuta grew up to be.
“that was seriously nerve wracking.. my stomach hurts so bad right now” yuuta coughed through a bite of his sandwich, refusing to meet your gaze.
you slapped his back, because, holy shit??? awe painted your face like you just witnessed your own child talking or walking for the first time.
“what the shit? yuuta? are you kidding?”
“oh, huh? did i overdo it or something?“
“no?! are you kidding? that was fucking awesome! i swear! this is why i love you-“
oh.
uh oh.
oh no.
yuuta let out a shrill squeak unbeknownst to any human being able to produce such a volume. it was a cross between a floorboard creaking, a mouse sniffing and him choking on his food. the poor boy had to excuse himself to the bathroom, hacking and sniffling in an ugly fit of coughs from the food that got caught in his windpipe.
your blood rushed to your head, veins lit ablaze, bones rattling as you could hear the chatter pound and drill into your skull, scoring you deep and down into your bones.
“did she just say she loves him?”
“i totally knew they were going out!”
“i can’t believe it…”
“do you think he’ll reject her?”
it replayed over, and over, and over. what a fucking fool you felt. did he even feel the same?
that’s why i love you.
i love you.
i love you.
a blob of black clouded your vision and you could hear the glass breaking.
yuuta sat himself back down, excusing himself.
you could hear nothing but the tune of his heartbeat. or was it yours? it sounded too heavy to belong in either of your bodies.
his voice came as a wobble because of his anxiety, but this was the one thing in his life he’d be absolutely certain of.
“that’s okay. i love you too.”
-
“yuuta? you okay? you’ve been spacing out for at least five minutes. something on your mind?” you lightly shake your boyfriend, grip reassuring but firm. it takes a couple of seconds for his gaze to gloss over as he returns back to reality.
“sorry. was just thinking about our childhood, that’s all.” his voice comes out deep and masculine. it doesn’t have that tremor as it used to before, like he’d break down at any minute.
you can say with absolute certainty as you stare up your entire 5’10 boyfriend that he’s matured well.
his hand snakes around to your waist, pulling you into him for comfort.
some ways better than others, you suppose.
“can we stay home today?” he hums, resting his chin on top of your head,
“same as ever, yuuta, aren’t you? it’s fine, i’ll tell nobara my period’s making me act up. she’ll understand-“
“hm? you’re not due for another week though, right?”
you crease your eyebrows as you type out an apology to nobara for cancelling plans, glancing up at yuuta curiously.
“how the heck do you know that?”
“i’m not supposed to? i’d always count your cycle so i wouldn’t irritate you on the wrong day. besides, don’t you think it was too convenient for you to always find snacks in your locker when it rolled around?”
“those snacks were you?! oh my god! i was trying to figure that out for forever!”
“i know. i remember you ranting to me about it.”
“you just sat there?! yuuta! you’re so cheeky sometimes, i swear!”
“only for you.” he chimes, peppering a soft kiss onto your head. you smile against him, though unfortunately pry out of his familiar and welcoming touch.
“i’m gonna step out for a second tho, ‘kay? i think that’s itadori at the door with my chocolate and painkillers” you snort, giving yuuta a bold wink as you put on your best act, keeling over and clutching at your abdomen as though you’re on death’s door.
“you’re awful.” yuuta chuckles, slumping down onto the sofa to hear the events unfold right in front of him.
you clear your throat and slouch your shoulders as you pry the apartment door open.
“(y/n)-senpai! i came as fast as i could and i brought you some of your favourite sna- oh, okkotsu-senpai! hello!”
“hi there.” he leans his head back, giving itadori a small wave.
“i won’t interrupt you guys so get well soon! and fast! cause i wanna hang out with you! bye!”
you cradle the necessities itadori brought whilst gleaming at yuuta with a wicked grin plastered on your face from ear to ear.
“you want anything?” you cock an eyebrow, showing him the arrangement of snacks.
it’s not the answer you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t unwelcome. it made you feel warm inside, like eating warm and soothing soup on a cold winter’s day. this, for you, was okkotsu yuuta at his best, stripped clean and vulnerable.
you’re the only one who he can relax around, act like the world is carefree. like he’s young again, prancing around in that dingy colourful playground he met you at.
“i want you to kiss me.”
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thedarkeside · 2 years
Text
as long as he's happy
Summary: Pain is something you endure, especially for those that you love.
Pairing: Kirishima x Reader
Content Warnings: angst
Word count: 1,632
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I’m gonna do it.”
“Oh? You will?”
“Yup,” he bounces up and down a little bit, a determined expression painting his face. “Imma do it. I’m finally gonna do it.”
“Mind walking me through what exactly you’re planning on doing?”
“I’m gonna go up to her, maybe buy some flowers before that… girls like flowers right?”
“They tend to, yes.”
“Good. Good… well, I’ll give her some flowers-” he jerks his head up to you, red hair swinging with the momentum. “What kind of flowers? Like, what are the best flowers for this? I don’t know what her favorite is.”
You tilt your head to the side. “Roses or tulips. Both are love confession flowers.”
The boy nods his head firmly. “Okay. Tulips it is. Roses are too generic… she’s… not. She is so... special~” he looks up at the blue sky, at the fluffy white clouds floating oh so effortlessly. His face has adorned a dreamy look, his vermillion eyes shining in the sunlight before he snaps out of it, looking back at you to continue his plan. “I’m gonna give her the tulips, I’m gonna smile and be confident, and I’m gonna ask her to go to the cherry blossom festival in Hirosaki Park next weekend. She’ll - hopefully - say yes. Then we’ll go, we’ll walk around, see the sakura blossoms, then at night, when the lights are lit up and the flowers look like they’re glowing- you remember what they looked like last year, don’t you? Yeah, well then I’ll- I’ll ask her to be my girlfriend.”
“That sounds great Kiri,” you smile softly, leaning back on your hands. Kirishima's bright smile warms your heart, his excitement nearly tangible. “I’m sure she’ll love it.”
Kiri looks at you with that gleam in his eyes. “You really think so? I hope so. I mean, even if it doesn’t end with her wanting to be my girlfriend, I just… want her to smile. I want her to be happy,” Eijirou sighs blissfully, finally sitting down beside you on the ground.
Reaching up, he pushes his hair off of his forehead. It’s down today, it being a weekend and him not having any other plans then hanging out with you. No need to waste the hair gel when he’ll just be spending time with his best friend.
You click your tongue, reaching for the bandana you have tied around your wrist. Getting onto your knees, you crawl behind him before pulling his hair back and tying the bandana into place. This one is violet. It’s a pretty contrast with his hair.
“One of these days you’re going to end up stealing all of my bandanas, Silly,” you joke, poking his cheek once you sit back down to his right.
Giving you a goofy smile, Kirishima looks at you. “Don’t worry, I’ll give this one back, promise.”
Except he never does. There’s an entire drawer in his nightstand filled with bandanas and other hair ties that you lend him. Almost every weekend, another gets added to the collection. But you just keep buying more, always picking up hair ties with cute patterns because you like how they make him smile.
But you don’t tell him that. There’s no reason for him to know that he’s the reason you spend most of your allowance on the abundance of hair accessories that you never even use.
“Sure you will, Sharkboy.” Your tone is full of warmth and fondness.
“No, honestly! I will this time!”
The two of you fall into laughter. The ongoing inside joke of his constantly stealing your things always makes you smile.
But he hasn’t just stolen your belongings, has he?
Once the sun starts to set, the sky melting into a series of pinks, and yellows, and oranges, the two of you stand up.
As the both of you walk out of the familiar park that has become the setting for your weekend meetups, your playful banter continues. It’s always so easy with him.
Eijirou Kirishima. Your best friend, your ride or die, the man who has always had your back, and in turn you’ve always had his. You were there when he first dyed his hair, helping him to reach the hard to get spots in the back. You were there when he decided he was going to apply to UA highschool. You were there on exam day, having wanted to try and remain by his side throughout the next three years. You were there during the USJ incident, cheering him on at the sports festival, supporting him when he tried rallying 1A to go and rescue Bakugou.
When you two reach the park exit, you part ways, him going left and you going right. Splitting up like this isn’t a big deal, you know you’ll see him again soon. Tomorrow, most likely, in class. You know he’ll be a nervous wreck about his impending confession.
The confession.
Man, that’s gonna hurt.
Two months ago when Eijirou came to you, pink in the cheeks and giggly over some girl, you put on your smile. You asked the right questions- “What’s she like?”, “When do I get to meet her?”, “Am I invited to the wedding?”. The way he got flustered made your stomach spasm with both butterflies and dread.
He had constantly gone to you for advice, trying to work up the nerve to ask her out multiple times. By the fourth try, when he fumbled and didn’t go through with it… you were… relieved? You thought that perhaps he wouldn’t do it. He would forget about her. The wave of guilt you felt from even thinking that was overwhelming.
I want her to be happy.
You can share that sentiment. It’s your own fault that you never ended up shooting your shot. Because whenever you would even consider it, your cowardice would nearly make you break down.
He’s your best friend. Always has been.
And three little words could ruin that.
Perhaps not ruin it. Kirishima is the nicest person you’ve ever met. So understanding, so supportive. No, telling him you’ve been in love with him for years wouldn’t ruin your friendship. Just… change it. Change it in a way that you don’t think you’d want.
So you smile.
You ignore the way that your heart skips a beat whenever he gives you a compliment. Or when he smiles at you.
You ignore the way your stomach drops so drastically whenever he brings her up. Or whenever he calls you his best friend.
Because that’s what you are. His friend.
And you’re fine with it.
You are. Why wouldn’t you be?
It’s not like you’ve ever been anything more than that.
So why does it hurt so badly?
Next week, he’ll end up calling you, or throwing rocks at your window at 3 AM to tell you about his date.
He’ll tell you about how great it went. How her eyes twinkled in the moonlight, how her hair smelled like cinnamon when he hugged her, how she beamed when he asked her to be his girlfriend.
And you’ll smile. You’ll congratulate him. You’ll tell him you knew it would be okay, despite his fretting and his insistence that you help him with his hair despite the fact that he does it every day, because this time he wants it to be perfect.
Because you did know that it would be okay. You knew that this girl that he’s so infatuated with is smart enough to realize how great of a guy Eijirou is.
You’ll choke back those tears.
Force down the full body sobs that will take over as soon as he leaves.
Don’t let him see you unhappy.
He deserves this. Deserves happiness.
His entire life he has struggled with his confidence, with his self worth. You always tried to cheer him up, make him see how amazing he is, but… when you’re just a friend, your words don’t always reach that place in someone's heart that makes what you’re saying really matter.
So, while he and Little Miss Perfect stand beneath the cherry blossoms, holding hands, staring into each other's eyes, you’ll be at home. You’ll be blasting music into your headphones, or watching a movie, trying to drown out the thoughts of self pity, trying to not think about how much you wish you could be in her place.
And when he does finally introduce you to her, you’ll be nice. You’ll suppress all of your thoughts of bitterness and resentment.
You won’t be rude, or passive aggressive, or demeaning. She doesn’t deserve that. She must be a perfectly fine girl, more than fine, really, if she managed to catch Kiri’s eye.
It’s not her fault that you can’t be her.
Even if the two of them are all over each other, acting the way that lovesick teenagers tend to, you’ll keep your mask on. You won’t flinch when he leans in for a kiss, or excuse yourself for the bathroom whenever Kiri looks at her like she’s greater than the sun, the moon, the stars.
Just take deep breaths, come on, you can do it.
If things work out between them, they’ll work out. If they don’t, then… you’ll still be there. Be there to hold Eijirou as he cries, and vents, and copes with his first heartbreak.
But you hope that doesn’t happen.
You hope that he doesn’t have to experience what you currently are. You hope that he never has to feel this pain in your chest, the puffy eyes in the morning after a long night of crying.
You hope that Eijirou Kirishima will be happy with this girl.
Because as long as he is happy, you can find the strength to still smile and pretend.
As long as he’s happy.
34 notes · View notes
shorkbrian · 3 years
Text
Guided
Okay I’m posting on mobile so bear with me
Was gonna do a thanksgiving feeder fic but I’m tired lol
So instead like imagine Kuroo helping Kenma lose his virginity 😳
(Warnings - NSFW! Rape, obvious denial (by Kenma, he knows it’s bad), Kuroo bein a creep, Kenma being a creep. Just general not good vibes)
Like Kenma isn’t exactly anti-social, it’s just he’s a lil shy and prefers to stay in his comfort zone, which involves gaming and little else.
One day the team will not stop bugging leetle Virgin Kenma about getting a girlfriend (“online girlfriends don’t count!”), and he gets a bit self conscious.
Goes to Kuroo, his best friend, his bro, his homie, asks Kuroo what’s the process - how does he get a girlfriend and lose his virginity?
Kuroo is almost taken aback at first, simply cause he assumed Kenma was either gay or just plain not into dating. But after he gets over his shock, he’s so pumped to show his bro the ropes.
Kenna’s expecting like, a talk, or maybe Kuroo will give him tips about how to pick up cute girls, or something like that.
What he was not expecting, was you.
Sitting on the edge of Kuroo’s bed, sniffling, hands balled into fists on top of your skirt.
And Kuroo’s so excited, quickly ushering Kenma into his room to proudly show off his cute little neighbor. You don’t seem happy, but Kuroo ignores that, so Kenma does too.
There’d be no buildup. Just Kuroo pushing Kenma towards you, before taking a seat in his desk chair.
“Go ahead and touch her.” He prompts.
Kenma hesitates, looking at Kuroo with knitted brows.
“Do you not know how?”
Kenma shrugs. He stands in front of you, raises a hand to your shoulder. You flinch when he touches your shirt, when the weight of his hand rests against you. He plays with a piece of your hair, looking at your face, your body, the cute way you’re trembling and shaking like a scared little kid.
“I’ll talk you through it.” Kuroo offers. He’s clearly impatient, but in an excited way, foot tapping against the ground as he leans forward.
Kenma’s glad Kuroo will be giving instructions. He feels a bit awkward like this, and he doesn’t want you to laugh at him.
“You’re sure she’s fine?” Kenma checks. You look scared and you’re crying a bit, which is kinda hot, but Kenma doesn’t want you telling people he assaulted you or something.
“Yeah, she’ll be alright. We had a little chat before you came over - she’s good with this.”
The way you glare at Kuroo through your tears confirms to Kenma that you probably aren’t as okay with this as Kuroo makes it seem. But Kenma kind of doesn’t care, because he’s chubbing up in his pants as he thinks about what’s about to happen.
“Alright, (Y/N), scoot back on the bed so Kenma can sit.”
You promptly obey, and Kenma slides onto the bed in front of you, following Kuroo’s implied suggestion.
“You should always give ‘em a kiss first. You can use tongue if you want, don’t be afraid to really get into it.” Kuroo continues.
Kenma shuffles closer, gingerly grabs your shoulders. He’s starts out with a peck to your lips, the stereotypical sound of kissing is made as he does so.
Kuroo encourages him to do it again, this time for longer.
Kenma indulges, lets himself linger over your lips. He can taste your chapstick, and it’s not unpleasant. Your lips are soft, and your warm, and Kenma quickly decides he likes kissing.
Then Kuroo tells him to use tongue, which Kenma does, and the younger man cringes at the feeling. He doesn’t like using tongue.
But he enjoys kissing, so he goes back to that, almost sucking at your lips, pressing himself close to you. It’s intimate, and it’s kind of exciting, and Kenma finds himself wanting more.
“You can use your hands y’know. Feel her tits, they look nice.”
Kenma does exactly that, and you squeak into his mouth when his hands grab at your chest. Admittedly, he’s probably a bit too excited, cause the second he feels soft flesh under his hands he’s pinching and groping and pulling, and you’re making pained little noises that Kenma discovers he likes.
Kuroo chuckles. “Damn, you’re going pretty hard there. Didn’t take you for a sadist. You can touch other places too, by the way. Anywhere you want.”
Anywhere?
Kenma pulls back from the kiss, his hands abandoning your breasts to roam over your sides, feel the curve of your waist, circle around to palm at your ass. He’s never touched a girl like this, it’s so different from what he knows of his own body.
That goes on for a little bit longer, but Kuroo’s quickly moving him along.
“Okay, you can lay her onto her back now... or I guess you could go doggystyle.” The older man leans back in his chair. “It’s up to you.”
“Okay.” Kenma breathes. He’s fully hard now, and it’s a bit uncomfortable, his cock tenting his pants like that. But he doesn’t know if now was the right time to undress, so he just does what Kuroo says.
He pushes you to lay down on your back - he wants to see your face. It’s a bit puffy and red from the crying, but it makes you look pretty. Plus, Kenma likes your eyes.
He looks over to Kuroo for what he should do next.
“She’s not wearing anything underneath the skirt.” Kuroo grins, and he looks so utterly pleased with himself, but Kenma doesn’t even register that because he’s flipping up your skirt to see for himself.
And fuck, you really aren’t.
He’s seen porn, he knows what he expected to find. But it’s so different in person. He wants to touch, to feel, so he does. Kenma grabs one of your legs, carefully pulling it to the side so he can see a bit more, and you let him, thigh muscles clenching.
Then he’s running a single finger over your folds and holy shit, you’re so warm and pink and his cock is throbbing and he doesn’t know how much longer he can wait.
“You can take your dick out now. She’s all prepped and stuff, so just go for it.”
Kenma pushes his sweatpants just far down enough that his dick can spring free - Kuroo knows how he is about his body, and Kenma doubts you’ll say anything because you’re staring blankly at the ceiling.
It’s a new experience, so it takes him a second to figure out that he has to part your folds with one hand, guide his dripping cock to your home with the other. You keep... fluttering down there and it’s driving him crazy, he can’t even imagine what that’s going to feel like
The second he pushes inside (you’re all wet and hot and tight and - oh you feel so good) he can’t stop the embarrassing noise the tumbles out of his mouth. His cheeks color red, but Kuroo’s quick to reassure him.
“Don’t worry, keep making noise - girls like hearing that you’re feeling good. And you can talk to her you know.”
“You’re-you’re cute.” Kenma blurts, voice shaky. He’s too overwhelmed to do much, he can hardly breathe right now, he can’t think.
“.... how does it feel?” Kuroo prods.
Kenma has to take a second to calm himself before stuttering out “G-good. Really good.”
He was barely a third of the way in, and the way your walls were pulsing around him, sucking him in, trying to milk him was almost too much. He groaned, hands coming to grip your hips, push your legs up and out of the way.
“Kuroo, it feels so good, she’s so tight. H-holy fuck, oh god, this is-“
Kenma gave a little thrust, and whined, almost crumpling over top of you, panting.
“Take your time, there’s no rush.” Kuroo reminds him, and Kenma huffs.
He’s right next to your face like this, and so he moves just a little bit so he can kiss you again. You don’t do much, but Kenma doesn’t know if you’re supposed to. He just hopes that he’s doing an okay job. Maybe you’re a virgin like him, and don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like? Kuroo would be considerate like that, take into account Kenma’s insecurities.
“Yeah, there you go. Move your hips a little.”
Kenma does, gives a few tiny, explorative thrusts. Then a few more, a bit more confident this time. And then he keeps going, and he finds his cock rutting into you steadily, and he doesn’t know how else to describe it other than it feels fucking divine.
He breaks from the kiss with a low moan, looks at your eyes. You’re crying again, cheeks red, avoiding his gaze. That’s okay. Kenma knows eye contact is hard.
Faintly, he registers the sound of Kuroo’s heavy panting, the low curses coming from where his best friend is sitting. He can’t focus on that though, not when his system is short circuiting.
It’s too much stimulation, and his dick has never been this wet and warm and massages like this before, and then Kuroo’s telling him to pull out and jack off over your face, or your skirt, or wherever, and Kenma doesn’t want to because you keep sucking him in hungrily.
But he knows in the back of his mind that pregnancy is a thing, and he’s not thinking straight, wanting to stay inside you forever. That’s why Kuroo’s here, to tell him what to do.
So Kenma pulls out, whimpering at the temperature difference his cock encounters. He’s so sensitive and keyed up that it barely takes a stroke or two (holy shit, your cream is all over his cock and it’s so wet and he’s going to die of pleasure, fuck) before he’s cumming hard.
He hadn’t moved, so his cum shoots onto your skirt, some of it falling onto your bare skin at your hips.
Kenma finishes, and he doesn’t know what to do. Seconds pass, and his breathing evens out, and he can think again. The younger man pats your cheek softly. “Thank you, you uh, did good. Felt nice.”
Kuroo snorts.
Kenma’s incredibly thirsty, and his dick is still out, and he wants to clean it off.
“You have tissues?”
Kuroo scrambles out of the chair, digs in his bedside drawer before a travel size packet of tissues thumps into Kenma’s lap.
“I’ll go get you some water.” He offers. “You did good sweet cheeks, knew you would.” He tells you, before exiting the room.
Kenma clumsily cleans himself off, then tries to wipe his cum out of your skirt. That’s pretty much hopeless, so he quickly gives up. He notices the slick shining over your folds, so he holds up a tissue.
“Do you uh, want me to-“
“Please stop.”
You’re barely loud enough for Kenma to hear. The man shrugs, before tucking his cock back into his sweatpants, pulling them so they’re snug against his hips again.
He clambers off the bed to throw the tissues away, gets met at the door by Kuroo, who’s holding a cup of water.
“So? You feel like a man now?”
Kenma gives a lopsided grin. He feels proud - the other guys can’t tease him about this anymore, he’s fucked a girl.
Kuroo pats him on the shoulder, before handing over the cup of water. “Hell yeah man! Here, I’ll go finish our girl off.”
Finish her off?
Kuroo catches Kenma’s confused look, and he does his best not to chuckle, but Kenma’s known him long enough that he can’t hide his laughter like that.
“She didn’t cum.” Kuroo offers. “Not your fault, it takes a bit more practice. But hey, you can watch how I do it, yeah? Pick up some technique for next time.”
A quick glance to the bed shows you’ve barely moved, just curled up on your side, arms wrapped around your chest.
“Oh, okay.”
Kenma sits in Kuroo’s desk chair, takes a sip of water while he watches Kuroo unbuckle his belt.
He feels good.
1K notes · View notes
wolferine · 3 years
Text
Unforgivable - Part 3
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Summary: When the reader loses their temper, it causes them to commit an act they can never take back...
Warnings: Violence, blood, language
Word count: 2413
Part 2
Tags: @yeetus-thyself @phoenixofash @lilclownx @yeeterthekeeper @alessiapn @diaryoflife @user19422004 @zoldszemulany56
You sit alone on a park bench, wearing a heavy black backpack filled with Hammer’s latest invention. He’s here too, more than a mile away, watching you from the shadows. Your task is to do all the talking and distracting; Hammer wants to take the kill shot. You don’t really care, as long as Tony Stark dies for what he did to Natasha. 
At midnight exactly, Tony walks up to you, wearing a hoodie, jeans, and his signature sunglasses. However, you know from experience that Jarvis is inside the sunglasses, providing him with information about you and his surroundings.
“It’s a little late to be wearing sunglasses, isn’t it, Stark?” you say, standing up. Hammer lined your backpack with lead so Jarvis can’t see into it, but you’re still nervous.
“You know I have astigmatism,” he says.
“I don’t really care,” you respond. “Take them off.”
He doesn’t need a second warning.
“So, what’s up with you, Y/N?” Tony pockets the sunglasses. “Where have you been lurking all this time?” He stops about ten feet in front of you.
“Just…working through some things,” you reply.
“For six months?” Tony scoffs. “We waited for you to come back.” 
“You know I couldn’t do that.” Your jaw clenches. “But for you, Stark? I’d make an exception any day of the week.”
“What’s up with all the theatrics tonight, huh? Would’ve been a lot simpler to have this chat at the Tower,” Tony says.
“I’m not an Avenger anymore.”
“Says who?”
“Says me,” you snap, trying not to let your impatience show. You’re waiting for Hammer’s signal, but he seems to want to take his time. Your eyes drift to the glowing blue arc reactor in the center of Tony’s chest and you put your right hand in your pocket casually.
“Just spit it out, Y/N. Why am I here?”
“You’re here to die, Stark.”
“Well, have at it.” He opens his arms tauntingly and you tense, ready to tackle him to the ground and beat his head inside out. 
“You killed Natasha,” you snarl, and his expression changes. But you don’t have time to process it, because suddenly, the watch on your wrist vibrates. 
Hammer’s signal. 
You take your hand out of your pocket, now holding onto a tiny sensor disk, which you throw at Tony’s chest. It latches onto his arc reactor and powers it down instantly, preventing him from activating his Iron Man suit.
Then you dive to the ground, because Hammer starts blasting away with his rifle.
Tony catches a few bullets in his chest and legs, unable to react to both threats at the same time. He falls onto his back, blood pooling around his body as he gasps for air. You activate Hammer’s suit, which tears out of your backpack, covering your torso and limbs in a thin layer of metal armor.
You climb to your feet, your helmet snapping over your head, and charge towards Tony. But something—or someone—completely blindsides you, sending you skidding in the direction of the carousel.
It looks like a variation of Iron Man, although the suit is smaller and more feminine. The colors are black and red, evoking a pang of familiarity in your chest. You stand again, an eight-inch blade shooting out of your right wrist, and you beckon the Iron Woman (?) to come at you.
She does, but when you swing your blade at her, she blocks it and punches you so hard in the chest you fly back into the carousel and knock a horse completely off its pole. You’re pretty sure you cracked a rib as your breathing sends a stabbing pain up your side. You hang onto a bench to get up, and suddenly the carousel comes to life, lights flashing and music crackling through the speakers.
You’re transported back to the day you were last here with Natasha, when you asked her to be your girlfriend.
Both of your horses are out of sync. When she goes up, you go down, and neither of you can stop laughing. You’re pretty sure you’re the oldest adults on the carousel without kids, but you don’t care.
The way her hair effortlessly blows in the wind and the way her eyes crinkle when she laughs lights up your heart, and you still can’t believe she chose you over everyone else in the world. You’ve never been so in love with another human being before, and you don’t think there will ever be another like her.
When the rides end, you take her hand and lead her to an empty patch of grass in the shade of a tree.
“Natasha, will you go out with me?” you ask, your voice trembling. She nods and brushes her fingers over your cheek. “I promise to keep you safe and love you every day for the rest of my life—”
“Calm down, it’s not a marriage proposal.” Natasha laughs as you sweep her off her feet. “Not yet, anyway.”
“Just preparing.” You kiss her and feel her smile against your lips. You’ve never been happier.
You’re so stuck in your head you don’t even notice the Iron Woman coming after you until she punches you in the face. You stagger back, stunned, as she punches you several more times. The face of your helmet snaps off and you feel your nose bleeding. You slash out with your blade wildly, forcing the Iron Woman to back off.
“Y/N,” the Iron Woman says, and you don’t even care how she knows your name, “You need to stop.”
“Get out of my way.” When you leap towards her, she lifts her foot and kicks you in the chest. You somersault backwards, head over heels, as she retreats. The rotating platform of the carousel does nothing to help your balance and the lights and noise distract your focus. You crouch behind a stationary horse, searching for her amongst the painted animals.
You break the blade off your wrist, poised to throw like a javelin. When the Iron Woman pops out from behind a black horse, you bring your arm back to throw the blade, but she fires from her gun before you can. The bullet bounces off a pole and buries itself in your left cheek.
The pain is like a branding iron as you scream and fall to your knees, the blade slipping out of your fingers. Blood pours out of your mouth, the taste of metal coating your tongue as you gingerly reach in to swipe the burning chunk of lead over your teeth. You finally spit the bullet out, but the pain persists.
The Iron Woman holsters her gun and approaches you, thinking you’re too distracted to notice. But you do, another blade flicking out of your left wrist and you ram it into her thigh as hard as you can. The blade crunches through the plates of her armor, but she elicits no reaction to being stabbed.
“Y/N,” the Iron Woman repeats.
“Just die already!” you scream, withdrawing the blade and trying to stab her again.
The Iron Woman’s helmet slides back and you freeze when you see her face.
It’s Natasha.
Immediately, your anger melts into confusion and happiness.
“H-How…How is this possible?” you stammer, more blood spilling from your lips. “T-They…They told me you died.”
“No.” Natasha shakes her head, kneeling to your level. “But you never came back for me.”
“Because I hurt you—” Hammer had said she was dead, and that Tony—no—you—had killed her.
“I forgive you, Y/N. For all of it.”
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness.” You stumble back, tears and blood mixing on your face.
“Please come back to me, Y/N,” Natasha begs, as your head spins from the turn of events. “I still love you.”
Suddenly, it’s like all of Hammer’s training reverses. Tony was never the one responsible for harming Natasha—you were. And now Tony’s bleeding to death, which was again, your fault. You won’t let this rest on your conscience. You’ve done enough damage and now it’s time to redeem yourself, as little as you can.
“This is all Justin Hammer’s doing,” you say, letting Natasha pull you to your feet. “He’s had me kidnapped for the past six months. He thought I would be able to help him kill Tony, but he’s not going to be successful anymore. Because you weren’t part of the plan.”
Natasha smiles and you feel your heart melt. Whether or not she’ll take you back, you owe this to her.
“He’s about a mile out, west from here. He has no guards—arrogant bastard—it’s just him and his rifle. You go get him and I’ll get Tony,” you say. Natasha nods and flies off. For a moment, you’re filled with jealousy over her suit. How come Tony never made you one?
You make your way off the carousel and find Tony still on the ground. You check his pulse. It’s weak, but there.
“Tony, I’m so sorry,” you say, as a spray of bullet rips through the ground. You grab his arms and pull him to take cover under a bench.
“Y/N?” he mumbles.
“Yeah. I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”
“No…” Tony says, grabbing your hand. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I was a complete asshole to you that day—”
“No, I’m the one who tried to shoot you, for God’s sake—” You rip his shirt into ribbons to wad up against the wounds in his chest and legs. “You’re gonna be okay,” you promise. “It’s Justin Hammer who’s behind all of this.”
“I recognized his work from your suit,” Tony gasps. “It looks like shit.”
“You can tell him that yourself.” You find yourself smiling despite the circumstances. “He wanted my help to end his ultimate rival. He manipulated me into thinking that Natasha was dead and that you were the reason for it—” You pause. “Thank you for taking care of her.”
“It was the least I could do for you.”
“I know she probably won’t want me anyway after all this, but it was good to see her again.”
“She only wants you. It was always you or no one.”
You throw yourself onto Tony when the bullets start again and you feel them bounce off your back and legs. Fortunately, when Hammer made your suit bulletproof, he probably didn’t think it would have to bulletproof against his bullets.
Suddenly, the gunshots stop and the silence is deafening.
When you finally look up, you see Natasha flying over, holding Hammer by the collar.
You don’t even mind when your face splits into a painful smile. “That’s my girl.”
***********************************************************************
Two weeks after Hammer is arrested, Natasha convinces you to come by the Avengers Tower. It’s a strange feeling as you walk in for the first time in over six months. When you left, you’d never thought you’d be back, but here you are. Your only belongings are a single duffel bag with some clothes stuffed inside.
You ride the elevator up to the Avengers’ quarters. You’re a little more wary of the SHIELD agents that pass you, wondering if anyone will double-cross you again, but you remain courteous. You punch in your code to see if it still works and it does, the doors opening.
“Look who’s finally come home.” Tony’s there to greet you and he hugs you tightly.
“How are you feeling?” you ask, still guilty you almost got him killed.
“Good, no thanks to you.”
“Sorry again.”
He waves you off.
“Where’s—” you start, but then you see her. She comes around the corner in a wheelchair. Your heart drops to your feet.
“Things have been a little different since you left,” she says. So that’s why she had no reaction when you had stabbed her at the carousel. She has no feeling left in her legs after your bullet pierced her spine.
“Natasha, I’m…I didn’t know. Shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be here.” You turn around, but she rolls into your legs and grabs your hand.
“Please stay,” she says. “Like I told you before, I’m not mad.”
“But you have every right to be.”
“Can we talk?”
You nod numbly and let her lead you back to where your shared bedroom with her was. Nothing inside has changed. In fact, your clothes are still hanging in the closet like you’d never left. You sit on your side of the bed.
“What do you want me to say, Y/N?” Natasha asks.
You shrug. “Call me an asshole for what I did. Tell me you’d never want me back.”
“Okay. You’re an asshole for shooting me and leaving me,” Natasha says without hesitation, and you flinch. But somehow, you find solace in hearing her say the words you’ve played over and over in your head for months. “And yeah, after the whole thing happened, I didn’t think I could ever take you back. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you and told myself if I ever saw you again, I wanted you to know that I forgive you.”
“But I don’t know if I could forgive myself,” you whisper.
“Well, I forgive you, and I think if I can do that, you can, too.” It hurts her to see how much you’ve changed in the past six months. Your face and body are thin from malnourishment and Hammer’s torture. Your eyes are dull and permanently swollen from basically crying every day for six months. Some of your fingers are crooked from not healing correctly and you have scars running up your arms.
She reaches out and touches the puckered mark on your cheek from the bullet. “Besides, we’re kind of even now.”
“Hardly.” You chuckle.
“We can start slow,” Natasha says, putting her hands on your shoulders. “Because I’m not sure what still works down there, anyway.”
You smile, and her heart warms at the sight.
“Can I lie with you?” she asks and you nod, scooping her up and carrying her to the bed. You put her down gently and lie next to her. She pulls you close until your foreheads touch and you close your eyes as you breathe in her familiar scent. “Why did you pick the carousel as the meeting place?” she asks.
“I…I don’t know,” you mumble. “For some weird reason, I thought I’d see you again, at least in my memory. But then I did in real life, too.”
“I’m so glad you came back,” Natasha hums, brushing her lips against yours.
“I’m so glad I did, too.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
AN: The end! :) Fun facts:
-Part 1 was inspired by the scene in X-Men: First Class where Magneto accidentally deflects a bullet into Charles’s spine (which resulted in Charles’s paralysis). -Part 2’s Iron Black Widow suit was inspired by a concept art photo I saw that was cut from Avengers: Endgame. Here’s the link to that post. -Part 3’s carousel scene was inspired by the season 1 finale of Netflix’s Punisher.
Join my taglist for future stories here! Thanks for reading, and until next time...
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Text
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
Are you sure about that, Loki? Are you extra, extra sure about that?
Because you:
1. Joined a task force to look for Sylvie (even though you didn’t know her then) and entered the same tent she had just disappeared from mere seconds before;
2. Thought that she was you (which later she would disagree with and say “if anything, you’re me” but anyway) and therefore pretty darn easy to locate;
3. Wouldn’t at first accept the fact that she was superior to you (well, y’all are equals, and maybe she’s better than you, but we’ll get to that later);
4. Theorized with your new friend Mobius that she was hiding in apocalypses by stealing his salad and then proceeding to absolutely destroy it doing so;
5. Visited freakin’ POMPEII to prove said theory and then actually proved your theory correct;
6. Used a candy from the future as a clue to find out where she might’ve taken her next steps, and cross referenced it with the many apocalypses she might’ve been in;
7. Actually found an apocalypse that she ends up being in (Alabama 2050);
8. Went to said apocalypse to look for her (you seem pretty invested in looking for her at this point);
9. Found her first enchantment victim who then passed the enchantment onto her second victim (B-15, looking at you), whom you still thought was you;
10. Found her third enchantment victim who told you not to call her a Loki (which she’ll do again, don’t worry);
11. Acknowledged through her fourth enchantment victim that she was different than you for the first time (“I would never treat me like this,” you said);
12. Followed her through a Time Door back to the TVA after meeting her for the first time;
13. Somehow allowed her to get the best of you even though you probably didn’t mean for that to happen;
14. Grabbed her stolen TemPad and landed the both of y’all in yet another apocalypse, the worst one yet actually, one that she’s probably been to before;
15. Tried to shield her from a falling meteor, to which she said she didn’t need your help (I mean, did you have a reason to save her then?);
16. Called her weird (I mean, that’s funny as hell, I gotta give you that);
17. Opened a door for her and let her enter the mining shack first before you did;
18. Literally let down your guard around her (yes, you’re tired from all that running, but still);
19. Somehow didn’t even stop her from putting both her hands on your neck in an attempt to enchant you (it looked romantic as hell, dude, and how were you not even opposed to her doing that, given both of y’all’s antagonism toward each other?);
20. Told her mockingly “In my heart” when she asked you where you hid her stolen TemPad (I mean, you could have said literally anything else but you went for “in my heart”, okay, I see where this is going);
21. Kind of agreed with her when she said you needed her to get out of Lamentis, “you need me” being the key phrase;
22. Asked her where she was going, and followed her;
23. Acknowledged that she’s not a Loki (yay!), or at least the fact that she doesn’t want to be referred to as one;
24. Followed her into an abandoned mining town where you thought you could fool a resident who chose to stay (you couldn’t);
25. Let her get away with teasing you about your failed efforts;
26. Playfully grabbed her by the shoulders from behind as you used your magic to conjure up a guard’s outfit for yourself (which you looked absolutely hilarious in, by the way, that helmet did not help one bit);
27. Sat down with her at a booth on the train, just the two of you (I’m not calling this anything else other than a date, at this point, to be honest);
28. Told her a wistful story about your mother and how she taught you magic and how she believed in you;
29. Showed her a miniature version of the fireworks you said your mother once conjured up for you, in an attempt to make her happy (I mean, those are beautiful fireworks, and she likes them too!);
30. Playfully conjured up a feather and quill to tease her about saying “Love is hate” (she finds you funny, she just doesn’t want to admit it);
31. Asked her whether she’s got anyone waiting for her when her mission’s complete (well, she did give a sarcastic answer but that’s not my point);
32. Admitted to her that you courted both princes and princesses in the past as part and parcel of being royalty;
33. Disagreed on love being mischief (what does that even mean?!) and then told her that you might need a bit more of champagne to really get that line of thought going;
34. Sang (I’m sorry, serenaded is a better word) her a song about a fair maiden waiting for her beloved to return home (you’ll find out how prophetic that would be in due time, don’t worry);
35. Decided that a dagger was your best metaphor for love (what, does being inebriated make you better at metaphors now?)
36. Let her get mad at you for getting drunk on the train (tbh, that’s kinda your fault, but there was literally nothing else to do, so) and breaking her TemPad (honestly, how do you even break a TemPad when it’s hidden in one of your magic pockets?! How?!);
37. Asked her if she felt better after that frustration-fueled scream (I mean, that’s kinda the first time you’re looking out for her, because that’s about to get real routine);
38. Went along with her after she sarcastically suggested that y’all both should try to get the Ark off the moon, fully knowing the impossibility of doing so;
39. Bantered teasingly with her about enchantment;
40. Believed her on a dime’s drop when she said that everyone who worked that the TVA were Variants, just like the two of you;
41. Let her grab your hand before the both of you ran around the back of the Ark’s docking station in order to find another boarding point;
42. Asked her if she was okay after the both of you got knocked back by an explosion (aww, you do care for her, how sweet!);
43. Finally called her by her name just before the Ark exploded;
44. Apologized to her for ruining her mission and dooming the both of y’all to die on an exploding moon;
45. Sat and listened to her explain her motives for her mission, before telling her that though people like the both of you may lose in sometimes painful ways, y’all always survive one way or another;
46. Freakin’ COMPLIMENTED her (that’s a first), and while the both of you sat waiting for the explosion to wipe the both of you off the map, you took her hand for the first time after she put her hand on your forearm (lovely, by the way);
47. Looked longingly and sadly at her when the both of y’all were hauled back to the TVA for interrogation and then subsequently separated;
48. Denied, when interrogated (is questioned a better word?) by Mobius, that you and her are partners (ha, you’ll soon be, in more ways than one, if you weren’t already), with a look on your face that absolutely betrays your true feelings for her;
49. Couldn’t even sell your lie about meeting her to Mobius that he had to lie right back to you;
50. Thought she was dead and felt so worried for her (you should’ve seen your face!);
51. Asked if she was alive and then SIGHED IN RELIEF when you were assured that she’s still alive (oh, have you got it bad for her, and you know it);
52. Denied that she’s your girlfriend the first time Mobius teases you with that word;
53. Spilled your emotions and your feelings for her on the table when you told Mobius about how much you believe her about everyone at the TVA being Variants;
54. Didn’t even deny it the second time he called her your girlfriend;
55. When asked by Mobius if you cared about Sylvie, you didn’t know if “care” was the right word;
56. Straight-up told him, “I believe her” with such emotional conviction it’s hard to see it as anything else;
57. Nodded your head at her when the both of y’all were reunited at the very same elevators you met in front of (how poetic) and she asked you if you’re okay;
58. Literally had her back when the both of y’all fought the guards in the Timekeepers’ chambers;
59. Got distracted when she got knocked down to the floor by Judge Renslayer;
60. Were on the brink of telling her how you feel about her, telling her that revealing your emotions was kind of a new experience;
61. Decided the best option was to place your hands just by her shoulders for whatever reason;
62. Let go of her so that she wasn’t pruned like you were;
63. Admitted in a roundabout way in just three words that she was your glorious purpose (priorities shifted, eh?)
64. Proudly proclaimed that her being terrifying was the very thing that made her so brilliant;
65. Literally puffed out your chest when you said, “she needs me” (she will, much later, don’t worry);
66. Revealed that she’s the only one you do trust (oh, the way your voice just softens when you speak about her…);
67. Planned an unwise sneak attack (that would’ve involved stabbing a cloud, I mean…) on freakin’ ALIOTH because you believed that doing so would bring you back to her when you really had no idea whether it would or would not;
68. Ran down the hill you were on to reunite with her (classic reunion move, pity you didn’t complete it by hugging her, but I guess you’re not there yet) when she arrived by car and asked her if she’s okay (looks like it’s becoming a habit);
69. Hilariously tried to unsuccessfully argue, through telling her that you’ve been in the Void longer than she has (maybe for like, an hour or two? IDK) that stabbing a cloud with a dagger was your best line of defense;
70. Sat next to her and had a conversation with her, during which you…;
71. Said it was cold (whether it was or wasn’t, isn’t important), so you…;
72. Conjured up a blanket for yourself before asking if she wanted one as well and proceeded to deny that your budding romantic connection with her was the both of y’all’s nexus event;
73. Followed that up with revealing that your nexus event with her felt great, it was a nice moment (aww);
74. Proceed to deny it as another TVA lie (you really need to work on talking about your feelings!);
75. Reassured her that you don’t know what the both of y’all are doing with regards to this relationship you both have with each other;
76. Playfully wrapped part of your blanket around her shoulders (double aww, that’s the classic “I’m gonna fake yawn and drop my arm around her shoulders, y’all think she’ll notice” kind of move, and yes, she did, and she likes it) and smiled giddily like the lovesick puppy you are;
77. Acknowledged in a roundabout (and maybe not so subtle) way that she loves you;
78. Pledged to not betray her, to not let her down, because you’re not that kind of person anymore;
79. Adorably nudged her when you asked her what her plans were when all was said and done;
80. Suggested that the both of y’all could figure things out… “together”, you said (triple aww!);
81. Handed the TemPad she gave you to Mobius and told her, “You go, I go” (I mean…);
82. Let her take your hand before you went to attempt to enchant ALIOTH;
83. Interlocked both of y’all’s fingers while y’all were at it;
84. Walked hand in hand to the Citadel at the End of Time;
85. Asked her if everything’s okay after she becomes nervous before entering the Citadel;
86. Got really unimpressed when that creepy ghost clock offered the both of you a chance to rule the TVA together;
87. Stated that “We write our own destiny now”, cementing the fact that you and her are an item;
88. Warned her to not listen to He Who Remains;
89. Tried to stop her by warning her about the possible consequences of her actions;
90. Suggested that the best plan of action was to take a minute to think of whether allowing a multiversal war was better than the alternative both of y’all never wanted (unfortunate as it was to be a damned-if-you-do-damned-if-you-don’t situation);
91. Got upset when she told you she felt like you betrayed her (don’t worry, you didn’t);
92. Clashed blades with her even though you clearly didn’t want to;
93. Told her “No” when she suggested that you kill her and take a throne you never wanted;
94. Let her blade fall to your neck to get her to stop and consider;
95. Said to her that this feeling of revenge, bloodlust isn’t worth it because you’d once been in her shoes;
96. Told her that you didn’t want to hurt her (after acknowledging that she’s been hurt by the TVA for a lifetime) and that all you wanted was for her to be okay;
97. Shared a kiss with her.
98. Deepened that kiss (you know you did…);
99. Grieved the misfortune of not just losing her but also the outcome of recent events, knowing that what she had to do was her life’s mission that you’d previously supported her on;
100. Went up to a changed Mobius and told him by referring to her, “We made a terrible mistake. We freed the Timeline. We found him beyond the storm.”
And if that doesn’t say “she’s become my girlfriend and I’m damn proud of her”, I don’t know what does.
-
Go get her, Loki. Go get Sylvie back. We’re betting on it.
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bunnysuit-femboy · 3 years
Text
End These Games
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Armin x Reader
Word Count: 3.0k
Warnings: fingering, exhibitionism, mentioned masturbation - slight dub con
Summary: Reader has been watching her boyfriend play this stupid game for nearly an hour. She is in desperate need of some attention, but he is still ignoring her. Guess she’ll have to force him to pay attention to her by offering something he could never say no to.
Notes: I got inspired and wrote this in one sitting. Also, I don't know shit about Skyrim but... enjoy!
You never understood what was so intriguing about Skyrim. It was a low quality game about being an adventurer in a dangerous world. It was fun, sure, but not that much fun. It wasn’t fun enough to completely ignore your girlfriend after begging her to come over to your house. Nothing should be that much fun.
You watched from Armin’s bed as his fingers moved skillfully over the keyboard. His screen showed the game as his avatar maneuvered through the snowy woods. He talked into a headset, asking his friends where they were for the fight and where they were going next.
You had been watching your boyfriend for the last ten minutes, your face set into a permanent frown from boredom. You loved seeing him happy, but you preferred when his happiness was tied directly to you. Whether you were making him happy from the thing between your legs or from the words coming from between your lips, you didn’t care. You just loved making him happy.
You disappointedly threw your phone to the bed and slid to the edge. Armin didn’t notice anything in the room had changed, so you continued. You moved to his chair, placing your hand delicately on his shoulder before whispering sensually to him.
“Can I join you?” You asked, sweetly, your voice barely audible to the game-obsessed boy.
“Yeah,” Armin said quickly, moving back on his chair to give you enough room to join him. You grinned before swinging your leg over the boy.
He was used to you joining him while he was gaming, but never like this. He was used to you sitting on his lap, facing the screen and watching him play. You would even flick his fingers during stressful battles, much to his opposition. You would laugh as he playfully cried out, trying his hardest to keep his avatar alive on the screen, fighting battles with both you and the enemies from the game.
But, you now sat on him backwards than what he was used to. You straddled him, your chest close to his as you snuggled your face into the crook of his neck. He had his arms around your body, his fingers still moving across the keyboard. And, your arms were pressed in between your’s and his chests, bent at an awkward angle.
He continued to play, despite his initial confusion. He still talked to his friends through his headset and moved his avatar around the map. You thought sitting on his lap would be enough to calm your anxious heart, but you needed more from him. You didn’t like sharing your boyfriend’s attention with an inanimate object.
Inanimate objects couldn’t compare to you, they couldn’t make him as happy as you could.
“Armin,” You whispered into the soft skin of his neck.
“Yes, baby,” He said into the side of your head, giving a single peck to the hair above your ear.
“Remember when we first met?”
Armin smiled to himself because of course he remembered the day he met you. It wasn’t too long ago, but even if it had been a hundred years ago, he would have remembered it like it had been yesterday. He felt pity looking back on a version of himself that didn’t know true happiness yet, but he also felt warm and fuzzy remembering a time when everything you two did was new.
“Yeah,” Armin said with a grin, “I remember.”
The first time you had met Armin was purely accidental, a series of fateful events all leading towards the love of your life. You were invited to the event because of your close relation to Sasha, since you helped her study for her chemistry final exam. She wanted to pay you back for helping her get a good grade, so she invited you to Eren’s apartment for a small get-together.
At said get-together is where you met Armin.
You were awkward at first, sitting on Eren’s couch as they all played games on the tv. Sasha offered you excessive amounts of alcohol, to which you mostly accepted. Then, you drunkenly talked to everyone in the room, finally finding your way out of your own shell.
You made your way to Armin, the one person in the room you wanted to talk to more than anything. Ever since you walked into the spacious apartment, you found your eyes drawn to the blonde boy. You wanted to hear anything he could say. You wanted to be near him, you didn’t have to touch, just to feel his presence was enough.
That night made you certain that wishes came true. You talked endlessly with the boy - about anything and everything - and you even got his number before he dropped you off at your apartment. He went home thinking about you and you went home thinking about him.
It was the beginning of a cliche love story, and you liked that. You liked the boy so much that you even thought about him for the rest of night, with your hand in your pajama pants and panting breaths escaping from between your lips.
You leaned back from the boy, making eye contact with his blue eyes. You took in the sight of his up-close face, something so familiar yet so extraordinary at the same time.
“I think about that day a lot.” You smiled tiredly at Armin.
“Oh,” He said with perched eyebrows, “Why?”
You had directed the conversation to exactly where you wanted it. He was exactly where you wanted him to be. The prey making his way to the predator’s trap.
Your cheeks flushed and you looked away, feigning shyness, “No, it’s embarrassing.”
“I doubt it is.” Armin grinned. “Just tell me.”
“You promise not to make fun of me?” You tilted your head, smiling like a schoolgirl. Armin nodded, his mind no longer occupied on the game behind you. He’d rather talk to you anyway. “I have to hear you promise.”
“I promise I won’t make fun of you.”
Your grin was now gone, along with your feigned innocence. You leaned closer to the boy, your chest now flush against his own. Your hands found a new home on his sides, your fingers grazing over his ribs, feeling every bump under your fingertips.
You leaned your mouth to his ear, whispering sensually, “I masturbated to the thought of you that night. After meeting you, it hurt me, just how badly I need you - it hurts.”
Armin’s entire body fell into shock. His stomach tensed under your hands and his breathing came out ragged and broken. His lips were parted slightly, letting his breaths escape.
You knew him well enough to know what was going through his head. You knew he imagined the imagery you set before him. You knew he was thinking about you, lying all pretty on your bed, one hand down your pants and the other covering your eyes. As if you were ashamed to be unknowingly aroused by the idea of him being inside you.
He thought about the desperation in your voice as you confessed to him and he was suddenly hyper aware of your hands on him. You were so close to him, situated on his lap in the perfect position for him to hump up into the air and touch something. Something he suddenly needed as well.
“Oh,” Armin's voice came out as a whisper, “You did?”
You bit back your smile, “Yeah. I still think about it to this day. When I’m lonely. When you’re busy with class. I just think about you, and what I’d let you do to me.”
“And what would you let me do to you?”
Snap. The trap closed around the prey, much to the predator’s delight.
You looked intently into his eyes, “Whatever you’d give to me, I’d take it all.”
Armin’s thigh twitched at the sound of that. He thought about how many inches separated his cock from your entrance. And, his heart rate accelerated when he realized that it was only a few inches, maybe two or three. It would take one strong move and he could finally hear you moan out for him. But, he instead decided to work slowly.
One of Armin’s hands suddenly came to your arm, not even the slightest bit interested in the avatar running around a seemingly empty village behind you. He had his fingers wrapped gingerly around the plush of your bicep.
“Seriously,” Armin asked innocently, “You’d take anything?”
“And everything.” You stated with a glint of desperation in your voice.
Armin moved his arm under your own, his fingers now resting on your hip. You felt your chest tighten with the movement. You knew where his fingers were headed, and your heart couldn’t take the suspense of the moment.
“And,” Armin asked with a curious tilt of his head in your direction, “When do you want me?”
“All the time,” You whispered back to the boy.
It was exactly what he wanted to hear. He dragged his hand along the soft skin of your thigh, fingers digging into the skin and leaving temporary indents.
“And,” Armin said while he watched your eyes intently, “Would you let anyone else touch you this way?”
“No,” You said, “Only you. I only want you.”
Armin loved the thought of you subconsciously comparing everybody else you’ve ever been with to himself. And, he loved knowing they could never come close to him at the top of your mental list. He could even die happy knowing you would never leave him because you know that nobody would ever make you feel the same way. It didn’t matter how he treated you - though he treats you amazingly - he could destroy you mentally and you’d still come crawling back to him at the end of the day.
Armin brought his hand under the opening of your sleep shorts. His fingertips now played with the lacy fabric of your panties underneath. Even physical contact close to where you wanted it caused your core to throb desperately for more.
“Kiss me.” Armin demanded, insinuating a trade with his words. With every good kiss you gave, you’d get something you want in return.
So, you leaned forward and kissed your boyfriend. Your body moved closer to him with each second of the kiss, your back arching and your chest brushing up against his own. Your fingers, still on his sides, now dug into his skin, your nails leaving behind shallow marks to his soft skin.
The room, once filled with the sound of Armin’s mindless conversations with his friends about dragons and taverns, was now filled with the sound of lips smacking together desperately. You then pushed your tongue into his mouth to which he whined hopelessly onto your lips.
Armin’s hand made its way over the lacy panties under your shorts. His fingers brushed against your clothed core. Your boyfriend’s body lit with satisfaction at the knowledge of just how wet you were from only kissing him, sitting on his lap, and talking about how much you needed him. The wetness was already on his fingers, soaking through the thick fabric of your panties.
His fingers brushed the sensitive spot that needed him most and you moaned quietly to his mouth. His lips ate every whine you gave while his fingers brushed further into the sensitive area.
You moved closer to the boy as your hips tried to get even closer to him, desperately bucking into his hand as he teased your entrance. Despite the lack of space between you two already, you tried to connect further to both his body and hand. You wanted to feel everything he felt, you wanted to feel his body heat on top of your own.
Armin had now completely forgotten the game behind you. He wasn’t bothered by leaving his avatar in the middle of a random tavern that his friends had decided to meet up at. And, his friends weren’t bothering him through the headset, instead they all sat quiet on the other end of the call, patiently listening for your moans.
You didn’t know about the boys’ interest in your moment with Armin. And, Armin was too deeply indulged in you that the thought of muting his end of the call never crossed his mind. The boys’ made sure to mute their own ends though, right when they heard you say that first sentence of masturbating to the idea of him. They were sure the moment would progress and nothing was better than free porn, especially when the free porn was moaning so desperately into their ears.
You bit your lip, trying to quiet down your panting breaths, “Can you touch me more?” You whispered the words onto Armin’s lips. “I wanna feel you inside me.”
Armin nodded against your face, his lips finding yours before doing as you pleased. His fingers slipped past the wet fabric of your panties, pushing them to the side. His calloused fingers brushed the soaked area under the panties, dragging out a mostly quiet moan from between your lips.
“In, in,” You said desperately to his mouth, “I want them in.”
Armin smiled against your lips, “Be patient.”
You nodded and felt as his fingertips brushed delicately against the area. His fingers teasingly played with your throbbing core, only making the wetness problem worse. His middle finger leaned up towards your entrance, using the collected slick to enter without much trouble at all.
You let out a high pitched moan at the feeling of something being inside. You lazily kissed Armin’s mouth, leaving wet kisses down his jaw, neck and onto his collarbone as a silent thank you. He openly accepted the gratitude, moving his head up to allow more kisses.
You brought your hips further down, widening your straddle as best you could on the small desk chair. You opened yourself further, hoping the boy would get the memo of how badly you needed a second finger in with the first without you having to say it out loud. But, you knew Armin better than anyone, and you knew he loved to hear your hopeless pleas even if he knew what you wanted already.
“Please,” You whispered into the skin of his neck, “More.”
He listened to your pleas this time, whether because you asked so nicely or because he truly wanted to give you more, you were unsure. But, the logistics of the situation became irrelevant when he pushed the second finger into your entrance. You felt the pressure of the fullness of both fingers and let out a soft moan into his hair, trying to muffle the noise.
“I wanna hear you,” He said as he pushed the two fingers in and out of you, “If you want me to continue, tell me.”
“Please,” You cried out to him.
He loved seeing you so desperate. He loved watching just what a small part of his body could do to you. Whether it be his fingers or his tongue or even his half-hardened cock pressed against your ass while you make breakfast. He loved hearing just how badly you needed him, and only him.
You normally try to stifle your moans, hoping not to disturb a silent peace in the room. But, when Armin told you he wanted to hear you, he meant it as a bargain. If you were loud and desperate for him, he would give you something to be loud and desperate about.
And, loud and desperate was exactly what you were. You pushed your hips into his hands, trying to suck his fingers up further than what he was allowing. You let go of that mental filter in your mind and let your moans come out as they came to your throat. You sent each whine into the sensitive skin of his neck, to which he proudly continued pumping his fingers in and out of you.
The lewd noises coming from beneath your shorts could be heard throughout the entire room and even through the headset. The boys on the other end heard each squelch of your pussy, and mentally stored the sounds in their own heads. They could also hear your moans, and your desperate curses as Armin curled his fingers inside of you, finally letting his fingers hit your sweet spot.
“Armin,” You whined his name out, “I-I’m-”
“You gonna come, baby?” Armin’s voice asked sweetly, contrary to the crude words he had spoken. You nodded your head fiercely against his neck, in silent response to his question. “Then, come.”
And with that final word, you let yourself release on his fingers and in your panties. He rode out your high, letting his fingers stay put for a few moments while you tried to catch your breath against the skin of his neck. You gave the boy sweet kisses to the soft skin, silent thank-yous for what he had done for you.
“Baby,” Armin whispered as he pulled his fingers from under your shorts.
“Mhm,” You mumbled against his skin.
“Want me to fuck you?” His voice was once again sweet for such a crude question.
Your eyes snapped open, “Right now?”
You lean back and look at the boy in front of you. His blue eyes were darkened with a newfound lust from your shared moment. And, you could see he was smiling innocently, despite having just pushed you to climax only a few moments ago.
“Yes,” Armin said, “Right now.”
You nodded before nearly throwing yourself from the desk chair and off of his lap. On your way back to his bed, you ripped your shirt and shorts off before throwing yourself on top of his comforter. Once on the bed, your panties and bra made a dramatic exit as well, sliding off of your legs and arms.
Armin rose from the chair and quickly ripped the headset from his head. With the force of throwing his headset, they unplugged from the computer, much to his friends’ disappointment. Armin walked towards you, taking his clothes off as well and letting them mingle with your own on the floor. He then joined you on the bed, pulling you against him in one swift move and kissing you passionately.
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