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imagining-in-the-margins · 3 years

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The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 3)

Summary: Reader earns her nickname, and Spencer sinks to a new level of sin. A/N: Here, take your first dose of smut 💊 ✨ Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Drinking, alcohol, masturbation (male) Word Count: 5.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

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If I had to pick my favorite thing about working for Spencer Reid, it would probably be something that most people wouldn’t expect. Sure, it was nice to be able to work with a human encyclopedia, and he was definitely very nice to look at, but neither of those things contributed to my love for my job.

It was the sense of belonging. An overwhelming feeling of serenity that existed, flowing freely beneath the surface like a network of roots twined together. I never felt out of place when I was with Spencer — which couldn’t be said for basically any other time. Especially not now.

Halloween is one of my favorite holidays because it’s just absurd. You harass your neighbors while dressed in a costume and they reward you with something sweet (or, in some cases, change). As I’ve grown older, not much has changed aside from the creativity and length of the costumes.

... and the sweet treats being replaced by the bitter sting of alcohol.

“You do realize that guy was hitting on you in there, right?” my friend shouted from less than a foot to my right.

“He was just being nice.”

“Yeah... in a bar,” another girl chimed in, “On Halloween.”

I tried to remember the face of the man they were talking about, but my memory of his eyes blended into the flashing lights of the club. Even if I wasn’t drunk, I knew it would have been hard to remember him. Because the truth was that he wasn’t the person I wanted to see when I closed my eyes.

“Leave her alone. She’s trying to stay pure for her professor,” my friend snickered.

Despite the treachery, I still caught her before she almost pushed us both straight off the curb in her drunken state. But it wasn’t her opinion I was worried about, because at that point, I was certain she would remember none of it by the time class rolled around come Monday. It was our other acquaintance that I responded to, with a very squeaky and unreliable, “I am not doing that!”

“Yeah, what she wants isn’t pure at all,” the mess on my shoulder droned. That was enough of a reason for me to drop her, although it really resulted in both of us barely staying on our feet on the somewhat crowded sidewalk.

“Stop! It’s not like that!”

“Sure it’s not.”

Then, something else caught her attention. Knowing her, I figured that it was either a man in a scandalous costume, or it was a two for one drink deal plastered in front of a bar. I assumed it was the latter, because as soon as she finished talking, she grabbed hold of our hands and yanked us against the brick wall of the next bar.

“So you wouldn’t mind if, theoretically, Professor Reid saw you in your costume?” she asked.

I like to think that I am a relatively smart girl. After all, I had made my way to graduate school, and Spencer seemed to think that I wasn’t a complete hopeless idiot. But in that moment, I couldn’t understand why on earth she would ever think to ask me that.

Running my hands over the fuzzy pink bodysuit I was wearing, I tried to picture his reaction. As soon as I tried to look down, however, the two floppy bunny ears affixed to the hood dropped over my eyes.

“I-I mean, I guess not…?” I mumbled, my face growing hot from something other than the alcohol, “I’m wearing it in public, so...”

But then she said it — the most terrifying two words I’d ever heard in my life.

“Okay – good.”

My eyes shot up immediately, trying to follow her eyes through the crowd of drunk, costumed people. By the time that I spotted him, somewhat thankfully dressed in normal clothes, I was powerless to stop it.

“Dr. Reid!” My friend’s voice rang out into the night, “Dr. Reid, come over here!”

The moment our eyes met, I knew I was fucked. Totally, completely, and utterly fucked. A clever little grin filled his cheeks as he quickly spotted me trying to hide under my hood.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” I shrieked, but he was already on his way over.

“You said you didn’t mind!”

In a panicked whisper, I bit back, “I didn’t say call him over here!”

When he grew closer, though, I corrected myself. Because it was not just Spencer who was walking over. There was someone else with him. Another man, just as tall and just as beautiful as Spencer, but with a dark complexion and an even more wicked smile.

As for my company, they had already scattered into the bar behind me, leaving me with a wordless, dumbstruck look on my face that was very poorly hidden behind bunny ears.

“H-hey Prof— Dr. Reid,” I managed to get out.

“Hey,” he answered in a tone I’d never heard before. A slightly guarded, very entertained but mostly awkward stretch of the vowel.

The man beside him, however, was quick to question.

“Who’s this?”

As I said before, I like to consider myself a relatively bright person. But the alcohol that night had been both free and strong. So, when I was asked by a handsome man who I was on the Devil’s night, I answered honestly.

“I’m a bunny!” I cried, bringing my hands together over my chest and turning to present the small pink pompom affixed to my lower back.

“I can see that,” the stranger replied through a genuine chuckle. But while the action was amusing to at least two of us in the conversation, Spencer looked mortified. It wasn’t necessarily negative, though.

I couldn’t be sure, of course, considering that I had already consumed more liquor that night than I had in the past month, but something told me that Spencer was less humiliated by me, and more worried about how blatant his response to my answer was. Because when he spoke, he did so through a smile.

“She’s uh... my teaching assistant.”

“Teaching assistant, huh?” his friend repeated, clearly amused.

There was almost a challenge to the title. Something about the way he said it setting my heart into overdrive. Unable to control my own treacherous tongue, I continued to dig myself a wonderfully sized hole to jump in to.

“I’m also very good at hopping,” I said.

Once again, the better company of the two laughed. Spencer, however, covered his smile with a hand that brought attention to just how red his face had grown over the course of a few seconds. I was so distracted by it, lost in the way I could still see upturned lips just from his eye shape alone, that I failed to acknowledge the other man for a suspicious length of time.

“Well hey, don’t let me get in the way of you two catching up. Reid, I’ll go tell the hostess we’re here, so the others know where to go.”

With a firm pat on the shoulder, the man almost turned to walk away. But before he could, I drew him back again.

“Ooh, is there a party?”

Spencer, finally able to speak again, rushed his reply.

“No, it’s nothing.”

It was obviously not nothing, though. Judging by the toothy grin that his friend flashed, it was a very big not-nothing.

“Did he not tell you?” he asked with an incredulous, mischievous tone, “It’s his birthday.”

And it was, by far, the most insulting, scandalous news I’d heard that night. Enough to elicit a sharp gasp and hand reaching out to grab his wrist in a way I knew I shouldn’t have.

“You didn’t tell me it’s your birthday!”

My mind was racing, kicking myself for having not figured it out sooner. I was trying to recall the monthly staff newsletter, but then quickly remembered that I usually relied on Spencer to summarize them for me.

“It’s not my birthday,” he explained with a sigh, “It was a few days ago.”

His friend seemed pleased by my response, although he clearly saw it dwindling. My heels had already dropped back down with my hands that fell away, signaling a very different emotion than the excitement from seconds prior.

“We’re meeting up with some people for drinks and dinner. You want to come?” he asked, trying to convince me before it was too late.

But the moment had passed, replaced by loud, insecure ranting that insisted that Spencer wouldn’t have avoided telling me his birthday unless he didn’t want me to know. That meant he either didn’t enjoy making a fuss out of his birthday, or he didn’t want me to, specifically.

“Uhh...”

“Don’t answer that,” Spencer cut in, swiftly raising a hand to dismiss the other man whose name I finally learned. “Thanks Derek, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Suit yourself,” he mumbled back. But Derek, in all of his disappointment, didn’t fail to draw out one more flustered laugh from the two of us who remained as he gave a tiny half-wave and sang, “Goodbye, Bunny.”

Spencer’s neck craned back, never once leaving his friend until he had safely entered the restaurant. Once he was sure that he was safe from ridicule, or at least observation, his entire demeanor changed.

“I’m sorry about that,” he offered, but I couldn’t accept. If anyone had been a bother here, it was me (and my friends).

“No, I’m sorry I bothered you!” I rushed.

The silence stretched between us, an unsettling reminder that we rarely interacted outside of work. That he’d never known me to party, and I’d never thought of him doing something as routine and normal as celebrating a birthday. It shouldn’t have been strange, but it was.

Perhaps that feeling was what drove me to continue, proudly stating, “I promise that I will have all your work ready first thing in the morning.”

It wasn’t until Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed and his mouth opened in a strange, lopsided grin that I’d realized I made a mistake.

“Um...” he spoke through laughter, “Tomorrow is Saturday.”

“I’m very motivated?”

Thankfully, he saw the humiliation and was happy to offer me a graceful escape from my humiliation. “How about I give you until Tuesday, instead?”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best, huh?”

I gladly took it, staring down at my heels as I tried to find anything else to focus on. Anything that wasn’t his eyes that seemed even more powerful after dark. But true to the magnetism I always experienced in his vicinity, I was drawn back into golden irises full of an emotion that made my heart beat twice as hard.

“Where did your friends go?” he asked. I didn’t trust myself to answer, so I just threw my thumb over my shoulder and towards the bar behind me. I didn’t turn away from him then, too scared to acknowledge that I would be leaving him soon. That we would go our separate ways again and I would have to wait until Tuesday to drown in the honey of his eyes again.

Sure enough, Spencer gave a solemn nod and cleared his throat before mumbling, “Right. You should probably go find them, so they don’t get worried.”

But I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay with him, the rest of the world be damned. I wanted to feel his eyes on me longer, especially when they started to wander my figure that I’d secretly hoped he would see.

I could pretend to hate my friend for calling him over all I wanted, but when I slipped into the costume hours earlier, I’d wondered what he would do if he saw me like this. And now that the answer was in front of me, torn between the exposed skin of my thighs and chest, I wanted to experience it for as long as possible.

With my fingers on the zipper to try and calm my heart, the inebriation manifested in soft giggles as I replied, “I think I’m pretty safe with you, Professor.”

Spencer didn’t need to vocalize his disagreement. I saw his contention in the form of wayward eyes falling to my hands that fiddled with the tiny piece of plastic keeping me covered. When they trailed back up the zipper teeth to meet my eyes again, they were filled with a hunger that took my breath away.

Unfortunately for us, though, our smitten haze wasn’t shared by anyone else in the vicinity. Especially not the drunk pack of men who passed, completely unaware of the amount of space they took up on the sidewalk. I don’t even remember one of them running into me, but I definitely remembered what followed in extreme, vivid detail.

Spencer caught me, quickly and more gracefully than I thought him capable of moving. His arms were locked around me, not only preventing me from face planting on the concrete but causing me to press my face directly against him.

Before he had a chance to say or do much of anything else, I placed my hands on his chest and tore myself away from the warmth of his embrace. Because I was already drunk enough on the alcohol — I didn’t need to be any more inebriated from him.

“S-See? You caught me!” I squeaked.

I didn’t miss the fact his hands stayed on my waist even with the added distance, his fingers subtly digging into and stroking the plush fabric. I didn’t try to stop them, either.

“Are you going to be okay? Should I take you home?”

I knew it wasn’t how he’d meant it, but my inner voice still pleaded, Yes, God, please, yes! My outer voice, however, clung to reason and respectability.

“No! Don’t miss your birthday dinner!” I insisted, but he didn’t look convinced. “I’m fine, seriously. I just suck at walking in heels.”

Any part of me that would have normally been offended by his insistence that I couldn’t handle myself while drinking was quelled by my desire to keep his hands on me as long as possible. Although there was enough space for my arms between our chests, I swore I felt his fluttering heartbeat against my fingers. I thought of hummingbirds.

Resigned to my stubbornness, Spencer took a moment longer to stroke patterns through the pink fabric wrapped around my waist before he sighed, “If you say so.”

“I do!” I giggled, leaning closer like I might convince him not to leave at all, “So you better listen up, mister Professor man.”

The look he gave me was sweet, honeyed bliss. But even that seemed minuscule in comparison to the way his hands slid over my sides, making their way over my shoulders and gently brushing the errant bunny ears back out of my face. He left them there, too, with a barely-there caress of my face.

“You look cute,” he said, like it wouldn’t break my heart.

Shier than he’d ever seen me before, I somehow managed to still look him in the eye as I answered, “So do you.”

It was a good thing I’d been paying attention, too. If I hadn’t been staring into his eyes, I would have missed the flash of chaotic playfulness that appeared just as he glanced down at the space between our chests.

I wouldn’t have been prepared at all when he dropped one of his hands from my face to the zipper of my costume. Not to say that anything could have prepared me for the way it felt to have his knuckle brush against the skin just below the lace bralette that had been meant to protect my modesty.

Before I could even comprehend the delicious friction of our skin, it was gone. Spencer pulled the zipper up to my chin, releasing the plastic in favor of grabbing hold of my chin once more.

“Be careful with that zipper,” he instructed, “I don’t need you getting hypothermia this early in the semester.”

Unsure of how else to respond, my body responded on instinct as it stammered, “I-I promise.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again, and my autopilot continued.

“Double promise. Promise squared.”

“Okay. You have my number so... call me if you need anything.”

I absently nodded, but Spencer accurately concluded that I hadn’t actually processed what he’d said. When he let go of me, he took the time to smooth out the bunched up fabric over my shoulders. I tried to convince myself that he was just interested in the soft fluff, but it was hard to ignore the hunger that’d only grown stronger. The darkness that rivaled the moonless hallow’s eve.

“I don’t mind giving you a ride home if it means you get back safe,” he said with a deathly seriousness strongly contrasted by the flippancy that followed. “Otherwise I’ll have more work for Tuesday.”

I was grateful for the shift, because it made the loss of his hands hurt less. My chest filled with laughter that quickly burst from me with frantic, messy words.

“Of course! The work. For Tuesday. Okay! Thank you!”

“For what?” he also said through laughter.

“I— don’t know.”

Spencer turned away from me, looking behind him at the obligations that would tear us apart. I wondered if he, too, was busy contemplating how well it suited just how different we were. How two establishments side by side could house such different things. How we were frequenting opposite ends of the spectrum.

Whatever he was thinking about, however, it didn’t break his spirits too badly. Because before he sent me on my merry way, he flashed me the goofiest little bouncing peace sign before he sang, “Hop along, little bunny.”

So I did, turning back to my life and letting him return to his. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes following me until the darkness of the bar swallowed the space between us.

Still, I didn’t need him to be there to remember how it felt for his hands to roam my body like familiar territory. I saw that look in his eyes every time that I closed my own and remembered how it made my legs shake like weak stems bending to the wind.

I decided then that it wasn’t the worst thing in the world that he’d seen me in my costume. In fact, I think he quite liked it.

——————————————————

There are few things more relentless than Derek Morgan. Death and taxes, perhaps. When it came to mocking me, there wasn’t a single missed opportunity. Even at the darkest hour, I trusted him to be consistent and predictable.

That was precisely why it made no sense that I had made it through an entire dinner and drinks outing with the team without him mentioning what had happened. Not even once. I almost let myself be relieved. Perhaps time spent with a child that can talk back did him some good, I thought. But when the time finally came for us to take our leave, I realized my mistake. He wasn’t holding back out of the kindness of his heart.

No, Derek wanted to wait until there was no escape route. He wanted to have me trapped in a car hurtling down a highway before he spoke the words that he’d been waiting to say all night.

“So... Bunny.”

“Her name is (y/n),” I quickly corrected. Unfortunately, Derek wasn’t in a merciful mood. Although there was a notable smirk on his face, his next words were uttered with a hefty dose of skepticism. A warning that it was a subject that ought to be approached with a critical sincerity.

“Her name is Trouble. That’s what her name is,” he said, shaking his head.

“She’s just my teaching assistant,” I said like I might actually convince myself, though we both knew that I wasn’t going to convince him. “It’s fine.”

“Is that what they’re calling it nowadays?”

But that time, it was me who issued the warning.

“Stop,” I ordered, meeting his eyes to find him hiding his genuine concern under jokes that weren’t really jokes at all. “I respect her. She’s very bright and she earned her position.”

“I never said she didn’t. I know she’s probably smart, but I also saw the way you looked at her.”

The words felt like a blow to the stomach — yet another reminder that my affections for her were so thinly veiled they might as well be scrawled across my skin. He didn’t need to be a profiler to notice that I was fond of the girl, but it certainly made it worse.

Because he knew that I was lying when I muttered, “You don’t need to worry about it.”

He knew that I was lying, but he still asked, “Why’s that?”

“She’s...” I started, pausing while the word tried to form on my tongue. The word that had haunted me ever since those damned girls mentioned it. That short, simple little noun that had taken a cursory affection and turned it into full blown lust.

“She’s a virgin.”

Derek’s brows jumped up his face, his jaw dropping the same way mine had when I first heard the news. Then, just as I had, he put the pieces together and realized that it should have been a foregone conclusion.

“Trouble with a capital everything,” he half laughed.

But this wasn’t a joking matter, and I really wished that I could make him believe that. That definitely wouldn’t happen, though. Not when he looked up to see me hiding behind my hands, sinking into my seat like it would get me out of the conversation.

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s obviously waiting.”

It was the wrong thing to say. I should have seen his response coming from a mile away. But I didn’t, and so I was forced to listen to his childish giggles that were followed with an even more lighthearted crooning.

“Yeah, waiting for the right professor to come teach her the lesson on the birds and the bees.”

“Cut it out.”

Without even looking, he astutely observed, “Kid, you’re blushing.”

“Yeah, because you’re talking about me fuc–”

The word never made it out, getting caught between my teeth as I bit down on my tongue damn near hard enough to make it bleed. I wished it would. I wanted the iron to drown me and rid me of the sinful things it sought to do, instead. Opting for a more… distinguished explanation, I eventually stammered the rest of the thought.

“You’re talking about me... deflowering my significantly younger employee!”

“You can say fuck, Reid,” he deadpanned, “I think you’re old enough now.”

“I don’t want to. It sounds too... crude.”

I didn’t expect him to understand. How could he? He’d only seen her when she was at her most provocative… by far. Part of me envied him, to be able to sequester her innocence and view her as just another girl.

But she wasn’t like anyone else. She was an untouched bloom, a magnolia of unearthly shades. A beautiful blossom that had broken through the concrete walls I’d maintained for so many years. A tantalizing taste of the life outside that I refused to let in.

A fucking tease.

“Too crude for little miss innocent bunny?” Derek cooed, and it was so uncomfortably close to my thoughts that I couldn’t help the way I snapped back.

“Are you done?”

As we pulled into my parking lot, Derek just waved off my hostility, recognizing it as nothing but misfired shame and anguish at the thing I wanted being out of my reach.

“Yeah, I’m done. I hope you had fun, even with the teasing.”

I chose not to dignify the second half of the statement, climbing out of the car like I couldn’t step away from the conversation fast enough. But of course, I knew that only made my guilt more apparent. My culpability was clear and conclusive. There was no argument to be made.

“You know I’m right!” he shouted just before the door shut. A final reminder, one last cautionary call for the beast inside of me to keep itself hidden lest I allow myself to sink my teeth into something pure.

“Goodnight!”

Few things changed when I reached the confines of my apartment walls. Fantasies had only devolved into a vividness that was borderline frightening. How easily I could get lost in visions of her, only promising my return in exchange for my imagination agreeing to become a reality that I would get a chance to experience.

But that wasn’t fair to her. She was just a girl doing her job with an astounding amount of patience and understanding for her hopeless romantic of a boss. For a moment, the guilt became so overwhelming that I let it win. I managed to swallow my newly acquired memories well enough to navigate my nightly routine without wishing she was there every step of the way.

Wishing that she would call me. That she would grant me the excuse to return to her, to touch her as freely as I had earlier. I imagined a world where, upon arriving to her destination, she invited me in.

As I collapsed on my bed, I wondered if she would have preferred the privacy of my home. A place far enough away from other students and academics to finally see me as something more than a superior. Something attainable in a way she never seemed to be.

Just as I closed my eyes to give in to the dreams, my phone buzzed. The sound set off every nerve in my body, all of them very poorly coordinating to allow me to grab the device and turn it on to reveal her name.

“Hey Professor! I just wanted to let you know that I got home…”

I’d never opened a notification so quickly, but I should have waited. I should have paused and taken the time to notice that what I was opening wasn’t just a collection of letters and symbols.

It was a set of pictures.

Pictures of her.

“Safe and sound and zippered up. No hypothermia for this bunny tonight,” she tagged onto the end, “Sweet dreams!”

How could I ever dream of anything but her? How was I meant to turn off my phone now, knowing that she was there; her drunken, lustful stare on display? I only tore my eyes away from her face long enough to notice her surroundings. I took extensive, painstaking notes on the color of the sheets on her bed and the way the zipper I’d tugged at to control myself from taking her had fallen away again.

I could feel the softness of her skin against my knuckle again. I heard the way her breath nearly broke at the force with which she sucked in air at the feeling of me touching her. How hard she pressed herself against me, how her back arched when I held her and how she never even tried to stop my hands from finding new places to rest.

They worked diligently now, too, trying to keep her awake and with me for as long as I could, but also wanting to free myself of obligations so that she wouldn’t notice how long I’d stared at the pictures she’d sent.

“Goodnight, little bunny,” I sent before adding, “I’ll be counting rabbits instead of sheep tonight.”

As if to reward my efforts, another picture flooded my screen. Her face was scrunched up in an adorable innocence, half covered with her hand but still effortlessly beautiful.

I stopped myself from responding again. I forced myself to stop, to prevent treacherous hands from calling her and begging her to let me come to her. It wasn’t fair — it was manipulative, downright evil, even — to take advantage of her inebriated state to hoard any insight she might provide.

But she’d already sent these… So, would it be so wrong to indulge in her? By touching my own body to the thought of her, would I taint her? Did I care even if it did? Maybe it was for the best to plant the seed of impurity now, to strip her of her power over me.

But deep down, I knew that I would still want her. I would still wish that the hand that sneaked beneath the sheets belonged to her. I could almost feel it as my hand traversed familiar territory. It would be new for her, and it would be new for me to feel the delicate, unmarred skin of her palm slowly sliding down my stomach. Her fingers bashfully brushing through soft curls at the base of me, still too nervous to hold me the way I needed her to.

Her face would be buried in my shoulder, with dew from her breath wetting my neck and raising the hairs on my arms. I would take her hand in mine and guide her to wrap her trembling hand around my cock.

Just like I was doing to myself now, with my other hand still holding the phone displaying the image of innocence. My hand wasn’t as soft or inexperienced as hers would be, but as long as my eyes stayed on her half-lidded gaze staring back at me, I could pretend.

I could hear her panting my name— my real name, Spencer— in my ear, praising the feel of silky skin beneath her fingertips. She would whisper about how she wanted to feel it elsewhere, too. She would beg for me to replace a hand for her most precious place.

That damned angelic girl showing her hand on the zipper would beg me to steal away her innocence. She would unveil herself slowly, knowing that I needed the time to memorize every inch of her skin as it was seen by another for the first time. Seen by me, and only me. The vision would be for my consumption and indulgence.

I wanted it. I wanted her.

My stomach tensed as I pictured the girl staring back at me straddling my hips. I stroked myself harder, faster, letting my thumb trace down her body on my screen.

If I stole it from her, would it be mine?

Would she be trapped as I was, only able to feel anything when I was with her? Would she dream of me? Would she cherish each and every memory of my touch and play it back in her mind? When she felt the urge to break and burn, would she picture my hands lighting the match?

If I ruined her, would she be mine?

I pictured the girl on the screen with tears in her eyes, her mouth stuck open in a silent scream and her hands clutching desperately to mine. I imagined how tightly her body would grip me as I fucked her. How hard it would fight the intrusion of my sinful touch. How I would hold her down despite the resistance until she gave in to me. Until I broke her, thoroughly and irreparably.

She would be mine.

That was the thought that took me over the edge, all energy that was not delegated to my hand feverishly stroking my cock remained with my other hand to hold her picture in front of me. It never even wavered, never once shaking and risking losing any clarity. Even my eyes refused to close all the way.

She would be mine.

The warm, sticky mess of my desire coated my hand and stomach, but all I could think was how it would feel to mark her as mine. To feel the excess drip back down my cock as she collapsed against my body. To know that she would never be the same, never be wholly herself again. That she’d let me inside of her soul and that when I left, I hadn’t left empty handed.

She was already mine.

——————————————————

| Part Four |

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reidgraygubler · 3 years

Text

just my type (spencer reid/reader)

Title: just my type

Request: kinda, not really

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (daddy kink, loss of virginity (reader), praise, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, after sex cockwarming, groping, heavy petting, tipsy sex, innocence kink, hair pulling, crying during sex (but the VERY end)), dom!Spencer, sub!Reader, Professor!Reid, age gap, aftercare, swearing, drinking, making out in public places, incredibly brief mention of necrophilia, mentions of absent father, ooc!spencer, professor/student, brief mention of drinks being drugged (not actually happening)

Word Count: 8,194

Summary: Reader sleeps with a man she met at the bar. The next day she finds out that man was her new professor, Spencer Reid...

A/N: this was writing for pom’s discord server fic swap! My partner doesn’t have tumblr, but their wattpad is babyleaf1! I took a few of her favorite tropes and prompts she likes and came up with this! It’s loosely based off the song campus by vampire weekend. Spencer and reader’s ages are undefined, but there is a gap between the two. thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

Going to the bar wasn’t exactly my scene. Sure, it was nice to kick back and have a drink after a long day. I’d rather be at home with a glass of wine and watching a movie. But when a friend I haven’t seen in a long time asks to go to the bar, I’m gonna go to the bar with her.

My eyes scanned the crowded room, searching for my friend who was no doubt already drinking. The room was filled with drunk people. I didn’t expect so many people to be drinking on a Tuesday night… who am I to judge though?

When I finally saw my friend, I rushed to her. She was sitting at the bar with a drink already in hand. I wondered how many drinks she had before I arrived.

The moment I appeared by her side, she let out an excited squeal before throwing her arms around my body.

“It’s so nice seeing you!” she squealed into my ears. I laughed as I carefully pushed her off my body, and tried to regain some personal space. “It’s been so long!”

“Yeah, yeah. Been busy. School and stuff starts this week.” I nervously laughed as I sat down on the stool beside her. She leaned over the bar as she called for the bartender.

“That’s right! School!” she exclaimed as she looked back at me. I looked away from the bartender and at my friend. “That’ll be fun!” she added, trying to sound excited, but epically failing.

“I sure hope it’ll be fun…. But it’s hard to say. You know, college,” I chuckled and looked down at the counter. The bartender placed the two drinks on the counter, pushing them towards us. My eyes widened once I saw the brightness of the drink. The brightness of the liquid was unnatural. So of course I was going to drink it. What’s the worst that could happen?

A couple hours had passed and the conversations between us seemed to flow fluidly. I was thanking God that that was the case because I don’t think I could do awkward drinks. I like to think I was concentrating on her and her words pretty well.

And then he happened.

A man walked up to the bar and looked right at the bartender. He held up one finger as he sat down behind my friend. He had an exhausted look in his eyes, which were hidden behind shaggy brown hair. Suddenly my concentration was out the window and I couldn’t take my eyes off the man. My friend definitely noticed too, but thankfully she didn’t comment on it.

Then he looked over at me, and I was met with honeyed hazel eyes. They were more intoxicating than my drink. A small smile grew on his lips when he realized he captured the attention from someone.

I just assumed he would have gotten his drink and returned to wherever he was sitting. But I was so wrong. Maybe the bar counter was where he was sitting and he just got here...

“So… What’s your type?” my friend asked, looking over at me with a small smile on her lips. I struggled to look away from the attractive man sitting just behind her. It was a relief when his gaze dropped from mine when my friend asked the question. But a small smirk grew on his lips as he, and my friend, waited for my answer.

“I… I, uh,” I finally looked away from him and down at my drink. The two black stir straws leaned against the glass, and I realized that I should probably stop drinking soon. My face grew really hot, and I couldn’t tell if it was from the alcohol I had consumed, or the thought of telling my friend my type in men I’m interested in, or even worse… That the type of guy I’m interested in standing right behind her…

“C’mon, can’t be that bad… Unless you’re like… A necrophiliac,” she laughed as she leaned closer to my body. I moved away from her before looking back at the man behind her. He was looking back at me, an amused smile on his lips. “Well,” she asked, slipping closer to me. I locked eyes on the man before licking my lips lightly.

“Older…” I made sure to be loud enough that I knew he would hear. I watched as he choked on his drink before looking over at me.

“Ooo! Girl,” my friend exclaimed as she moved closer to me, “How scandalous,” she whispered as she wrapped an arm around me, “How old are we talking?” she looked up at me. Her eyes were glossy, and I knew there was no winning this one.

“Is this really a conversation we… we should be having?” I asked, my voice shaky as I spoke. She looked at me with wide eyes.

“We talkin’ old enough to be ya daddy… if ya know what I mean,” she mused as she began falling into my body. The man behind her looked over at me, his smile telling me he was clearly listening in to our conversation. And he obviously enjoyed what was happening in front of him.

“Ye-No!” I cut myself off with a shout, “No! Not at all!” I continued, backing away from her body. I couldn’t tell if I was being serious or not, and something was telling me my friend and the man didn’t believe me either. “Wh-why are you suddenly…” I let my words trail off as my train of thought suddenly vanished.

“Because… You’re young, you’re single… And you’re… you know…” this time it was her words trailing off. I looked at her with wide eyes, my face getting hot again. “A virgin,” she said in a normal tone, even though I think she thought she was whispering. The man behind her choked on his drink again before slowly turning to face me and my friend.

“Will you shut up?” I whispered as I tore my eyes off the man and looked down at my friend. She sat back in her seat as she looked at me with a smile.

“OH!” she shouted as she looked down at her drink. She slammed the rest of it in one go before standing up, “I have to pee! Stay here! If I’m not back in 10 minutes, assume I went off with that hot guy.” She slipped off her chair before pointing somewhere in the bar. I looked over my shoulder and at a group of guys who were closer to our age than the guy behind her.

“O-okay,” my words stumbled as I carefully pushed her body off mine. I held back my chuckle as she stumbled away from me and towards the bathroom.

I turned back to the counter, my head dropping so I was looking at my drink. My fingers fiddled with the straws as I waited for my friend to return. The bright blue liquid sitting with ice wasn’t as good as it looked. Which was very unfortunate because I’ve had maybe two of them… Working on my third...

“Your friend… She’s rather excitable,” someone spoke from beside me. The seat my friend was once sitting in was now occupied by the man who sat beside her. I perked up and looked away from my drink. He was hunched over the bar, holding a small glass with an amber liquid.

I didn’t realize I was staring at him till he cleared his throat and looked back at me. I jumped, looking down at the bar. I didn’t exactly know how to respond to him, words not coming from my mouth properly as I struggled to speak. So, I shrugged and stared at him.

“Y-yeah, yeah she’s like that… Especially when she’s drunk… She doesn’t know how to hold her booze,” I laughed as I lifted my drink to my lips. I searched for the two mixer straws with my mouth, closing my eyes before taking a sip. “Y-you didn’t hear anything she said,” I asked, my words slurring slightly from nervousness, "Did you?" I added as I leaned on the counter. The man looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

“Uh, erm,” he looked back down at his drink, not directly answering my question. I sighed deeply as I planted my face into my hand, leaning against the bar.

“She was being really loud,” I laughed as slowly slipped off my stool and into his body, “Oh, sorry.” I looked up at him as I held onto his arm, “I think I should stop drinking,” I laughed as I recollected myself and moved away from the stranger’s body.

“It’s okay.” The man looked at me, helping me get back on my seat, “I’m going to get you water.” He looked between me and the bartender.

“Listen, listen, yeah, whatever, like so what, I’m still a virgin… I just have my bar set way too high for men,” I started as I turned to face him, “I should lower that bar and my standards,” I mumbled as I leaned against the counter. The man looked down at me with a raised eyebrow. Why did I think my friend would be embarrassing to me when I can just do it myself?

“Definitely getting you water,” he laughed. After a moment of silence, the bartender placed two glasses of water on the counter in front of me and the stranger. The man looked over at me before pushing the glass closer to me. “Drink it, you’ll feel better,”

“Is it safe, right? Like…” I let my words trail off, hoping he’d clue into my worries. He looked at me with raised brows, like what I had said was absurd that I would even suggest something like that.

“It’s safe… just water and ice,” he returned, his tone telling me he was mildly offended that I'd think he drugged water. But to be fair, he's a random stranger in the bar, talking to a girl who's had a few drinks.

“Thanks,” I muttered before lifting the glass to my lips. The icy coolness of the water hit my lips and tongue and I already felt a million times better. I couldn’t help but let out a pleased hum.

“Spencer... by the way,” the man finally introduced himself to me. I swallowed roughly as I looked up at him. My eyebrows knit together as I stared at him, my words tumbling from my mouth as I introduced myself.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, looking around the semi-filled room of drunken adults.

“After work drinks,” he spoke softly. He didn’t sound too enthused by after work drinks. Part of me wondered why that was… Maybe all his friends ditched him too.

“Sounds boring,” I laughed as I looked back at him, “My friend wanted to get drinks… But she wanted to catch up and to… Well, just drink,” I sighed as I leaned my entire body against the counter, “As you can see, she ditched me… Like always,” I scoffed before looking over at where my friend actually was. She was standing beside the cute guy, leaning close to him. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d be gone with him the next time I looked over at her.

“Maybe it’s your turn to leave her at the bar.” Spencer watched as I lifted the glass of water back to my mouth. I nearly spat water all over the place with his words.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked as I moved my chair closer to him. He seemed content with where I was sitting, and how close I was to him. To be honest, I wished I could be closer to him.

“Could mean anything you wanted it to mean,” he replied with a shrug. I stared at him for a moment, slowly leaning closer to him, but not getting too close.

“You’re right.” I smiled as I stared at him. He looked away from his drink and nodded. “Like going home before her to go to bed early.” I laughed. Spencer returned the laughter and shook his head.

“If that’s what you want it to mean,” he smiled at me. I rolled my eyes and shrugged.

“Nah, I don’t think I wanna go home yet,” I sighed, resting my head on my fist, and my elbow on the bar counter. We both stayed quiet for a moment, letting the silence carry our “conversation”.

“So… Older men…?” Spencer asked after the long silence. He looked down at me with a smug smile. I froze in my seat, my eyes on the glass of, now, ice in front of me.

“You did hear that conversation,” I lazily laughed as I looked up at him. I couldn’t help but nibble lightly on my lower lip as I looked at him. “Nah…” I looked up at him, feeling a small smile grow on my lips. Spencer looked down at me with a raised eyebrow and a sly smirk. “Maybe… Possibly… Definitely older men…” My head fell back in laughter. Spencer kept his eyes on me and his smile grew more amused than smug.

Spencer definitely met my standards in men. He seemed to be older than me, I wasn’t exactly willing to question that though. There was a certain… gentlemanly-ness to him that I infinitely enjoyed. He was definitely not like any other guy I’ve talked to. And he 100% wasn’t some 20-something-year-old guy who claims he has all the experience in the world but doesn’t. Spencer seemed very experienced, in what? Well, everything I guess. I could just sense it by the way he talked to me and the way he held himself.

“My last boyfriend was 10 years older than me, and the one before that was 7 years older…” I paused, staring at him. I wondered what he was thinking, and if he was thinking what everyone thinks… ‘This girl has totally got daddy issues.’ “I don’t have daddy issues,” I rolled my eyes as I gravitated closer to his body. I looked up at Spencer, my hand falling to rest on his thigh as I moved closer to him. His body tensed slightly at my touch. I felt a little bad at first, but when I went to move my hand, he stopped me. His hand reaching out to grab my wrist.

“Even if you did, I don’t think that would influence your taste in men.” He looked down at me. It was then did I realize just how close our faces were to each other.

“That’s good to hear because most people just automatically assume that I have daddy issues,” I murmured as I looked between his lips and eyes, “Although… It’s just a lie… I tell myself that because people always say women with daddy issues are sluts… But I’m not…” I whispered as I slowly moved closer to him.

“I didn’t think that,” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head, “And I’ve known you for all of 45 minutes,” he laughed as he removed his hand from my wrist.

“Good,” I laughed lightly. “Can I kiss you?” my voice was a murmur as I looked into his eyes. Spencer licked his lips before parting them slightly. He didn’t seem too shocked or taken aback by my proposition. But when he spoke he was a little… nervous.

“If… If that’s what you want,” he whispered as he looked at me. I took a deep breath, my hand resting on his leg shifting a bit as I moved closer to him. Spencer took a shaky breath as I looked up at him.

“Do you want it?”

“I… I’d be lying if I said no, but I don’t want to take advantage of a woman under the influence,”

“It’s what I want,” I leaned even closer, not even an inch between us. I could feel his breath through my nose, that’s how close we are. “And I’m not under the influence,” I spoke, losing my confidence with each word. It was also an obvious lie too. We both knew how many drinks I had. “I’ve had two glasses of water and a handful of bar nuts, and it’s been like an hour since my last drink. I’m okay,” I whispered as I leaned totally on him.

Spencer looked down at me, his face still as his eyes examined my face. He slowly brought a hand up to my face, resting it gently under my chin. I smiled, feeling my face heat up again. When he squinted his eyes, I felt my heart rate spike.

“Please,” I begged. The bar and world around me simply vanished as I became so involved with Spencer and everything about him. In that moment, I was obsessed with him. “Kiss me,”

Spencer let out a soft breath of air from his lips before pressing them to mine. If the cool water didn’t sober me up, this kiss sure did. But at the same time, it was so intoxicating. Sure I’ve kissed men before, but this time it was… Different. Something else was going to happen tonight, with Spencer. But I couldn’t exactly place what it was that was going to happen.

My free hand lifted from its place beside me and went to his head, my fingers getting tangled in his hair. My other hand stayed put on his thigh, my grip slowly hardening on his leg. I tried to be quiet as a moan came from me, but I obviously failed. Spencer moaned right back into my mouth. I suppose I was happy he didn’t have an issue with our volume. Thank God the music was loud enough to drown us out.

When I pulled away from him, I nearly fell into the bar. Thankfully Spencer looked at me, his hand going to my hip to keep me from crashing into the counter. I looked up at him, taking a deep breath to get my head clear. But it was hard when I went back to him, my arms wrapping around his neck as my lips crashed back into his.

Spencer’s hands moved quickly over my back, resting on my hips, lower back. Anywhere he could reach, he would touch. He turned more to face me, allowing me to stand between his legs.

“We… We should stop… Before one of us does something we’ll… We’ll regret,” he whispered softly. Spencer pressed his forehead to mine as he spoke. I took a deep breath, my chest rising and falling quickly.

“No… No, we shouldn’t.” I looked up at him, my hands getting knotted up in his hair again. Spencer looked at me, a certain softness on his face. “I think… You… You meet my standards, Spencer.” I blinked at him.

Spencer quickly looked over at the bartender before fumbling for his wallet. I looked at him, watching him pull out more money than needed and shoving it in the bartender’s hands. He looked back at me, wrapping an arm around my waist and guiding me out. I smiled as Spencer dragged me out of the bar.

For the first time ever, I was leaving the bar before my friend… And I didn’t care about her.

Spencer looked back at me as we stepped outside and the semi-cool air of the night felt really good against my hot skin. Inside I almost couldn’t breathe, but outside it felt like it just came to me. It was so… refreshing.

I didn’t realize Spencer had called a taxi till he was pulling me to the vehicle. I looked up at him, blinking slowly as he pulled the car door open. Swallowing down the sudden excitement and fear mixture, I slid into the taxi before him.

I wasn’t scared because I was having sex for the first time. No, I was scared that I was going home with a strange man. Anything could happen, honestly. What if he was a murderer?

“Where to?” The taxi driver looked up in the rearview mirror at me and Spencer. I was the quickest to talk, giving him my address before Spencer could give his.

Spencer glanced at me, watching as I nervously played with the hem of my dress. When I glanced at him, I noticed that he was turned to face me more, whereas I was still, facing the seat in front of me.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and soft. I moved my head a little too fast as I looked at him.

“Mm, yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’ve never done something like this before, that’s all,” I whispered, looking at him as I bit my lower lip. Spencer nodded as he looked at me, watching as I shifted closer to him.

“We don’t… We don’t have to…” Spencer started but stopped when I maneuvered to straddle his legs. He looked up at me as he carefully rested his hands on my hips. I swallowed roughly as I looked down at him. My hands pressed to his chest to hold myself upright, and my head occasionally hitting the roof of the taxi with every bump we went over.

“I know... I know we don’t have to do anything…” My heart slamming in my chest as I stared at him. I moved my hands from his chest to gently cup his face. His cheeks were stubbly, prickling at the palms of my hands as I held his face. With one final deep breath of air, I pressed my lips to his, this time a lot more passionately than before.

Spencer pressed his lips down my face, and neck while his hands roamed my body. My hands stayed planted on his face, keeping me in place over his body. I was so into him just… touching me that I didn’t even realize his hand had slipped in the front of my dress. His fingers gently stroking the skin on my inner thigh.

My head fell to the side as he pressed his lips down my neck more before going towards my chest. A huff of air came from my lungs as I pushed my hands through his hair.

“Uh… We’re, uh… at your destination…” The poor taxi driver spoke from his spot in the front. I moved Spencer’s head away from my body and I looked down at him.

“You… you pay him.” I stared down at him, feeling a certain embarrassment grow in my stomach, and across my face. Spencer quickly fumbled for his wallet before pulling out more money than necessary and tossing it to the driver. After he shoved his wallet back into his pocket, he wrapped his arms around my waist before exiting the taxi. A squeal came from my mouth as he carried me out of the vehicle and towards my complex.

“Spencer!” I screamed as my arms wrapped around his neck. A dizzying feeling took me over as a hard bulge pressed between my legs. I almost couldn’t hold back a moan.

He laughed before putting his lips back on my neck, nipping lightly on the sensitive skin. And I couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, almost a whimper.

“Keys,” Spencer muttered into my neck. I took a deep breath, my chest pressing into his body more.

“Unlocked,” I gasped as he nipped my neck again. He hummed as he opened the door and entered my home. He put my back down once we were inside, door shut and locked. I grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall towards my bedroom.

Spencer pushed the door shut and pressed me against it, pressing his lips to mine like I was the last woman on earth. His arms were propped up on either side of my head, blocking me between the door and his body. It’s a good thing I didn’t feel trapped because I otherwise wouldn’t have allowed that to happen.

My breathing picked up when he pressed his hips against me. A pit grew in my stomach, and I couldn’t tell if it was actually anxiety or excitement. I was willing to bet it was both.

As the anxiety slowly melted away, a new feeling took over. A feeling of want and hunger. It was the type of feeling that could be satisfied by another person, or by my own doing. But, I knew I wanted it from Spencer. I needed it from Spencer.

“I need to feel something,” I whimpered against his lips as he pinned me against the door, “Please, I need to feel you.” My leg wrapping around his waist to pull him closer to me. I almost couldn’t breathe, my excitement getting the better of me.

Spencer looked down at me, a hand slowly coming up to my face, resting gently on my cheek. My eyes blinked slowly as he examined my face. I wondered what he was thinking, and if they were good thoughts. I only wondered what he thought because of how he looked at me. His features were soft and gentle like he was a child holding a fluffy, white dandelion. But the way his eyes moved across my face… They were hungry. Unlike his soft facial features, his eyes wanted to destroy everything in sight…

And I liked it. It should have scared me, right? A man looking at me like he was about to destroy my life… But the way he did it… I liked...

While he kept one hand on my face, his other hand was high on my upper thigh. His thumb carefully moving back and forth on the soft skin. I wonder if he knew how desperate I was beginning to feel. And he only fueled my desperation the further up his hand traveled.

A sharp gasp fell from my mouth as his hand finally moved against my underwear. His fingers were gentle as they ghosted over me. I wondered if he could feel how aroused I was through my underwear. Probably, it was impossible to hide that…

The way his hands touched me and held me was weird. He was still gentle, but there was a certain hastiness to it that I noticed. Like he was trying to claim something that wasn’t his.

“Please,” I whimpered as he trailed kisses down my neck. My chest began heaving as he began tracing his finger over my underwear. Okay, now he had to know how desperate I was. Spencer groaned once he pressed his lips back to mine.

“You’re so wet, Princess,” he whispered as his hand on my face fell to my chin. Another gasp came from me at the pet name. He took the opportunity to pull on my lower lip with his teeth. “I’ve hardly done anything,” he moved his head away from me and smiled, “Hardly touched you at all.”

I looked up at him, my lower lip pouted out slightly. It was hard to say what his next action was, but I heavily anticipated it. He smiled softly as his thumb pulled down my lower lip. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I yelped when he pushed my underwear to the side, and carefully slipped a finger between my folds.

Spencer looked down at me with a pleased smile. It was clear to me that he enjoyed my struggle. I placed my hands on his arms to keep myself up. And even though my body was pressed against the door, and I braced myself against him, my knees still wanted to give out.

I’ve never had another person touch me like this before. My previous relationships didn’t last long enough for them to do something like this. And, I’ve never exactly had this feeling before. Well, let me rephrase that, I have felt this feeling before. I’ve never felt this way from another person. I’ve masturbated before, after all I’m lonely, not Catholic. But, the feeling happening because someone else is causing it.

“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” Spencer whispered as he slowly pressed a finger into me. I looked up at him and nodded as I pressed my lips together. “Use your words,”

“Yes, it feels so good… s’good, Daddy,” I whimpered as I looked at him. I swear I saw the corner of his lips twitched slightly. Did my title for him do to him what it did to me? It was obvious he liked it.

Spencer stared at me for a moment before harshly pressing his lips back to mine. It felt as if he was taking the breath right from my lungs with everything he was doing. His hand between my legs moved a little faster, my hips grinding down on him in reaction.

“Say it again,” he murmured against my lips. The way he moved his face caused our noses to squish together. My heart was slamming in my chest and I could hear it in my head. It felt like at any moment it’d break out of me.

I softly yelped when he carefully inserted a second finger in me. His pace quickened slightly and I couldn’t concentrate on anything.

A tension grew in the pit of my belly, and slowly grew as the seconds ticked by. I wasn’t sure how long I’d make it till the tension cracked. I wondered if Spencer sensed that too.

I removed my hands from his arms and wrapped my arms around his neck to hold him closer to me. It was so hard to hold back the soft whimpers and moans I was feeling getting trapped in my throat. Although, Spencer seemed to enjoy my struggle.

It became more of a struggle the stronger the tension grew. It was close too.

“Say it again.”

“I’m s’close, Daddy,” I whined, my head involuntarily falling to my shoulder. Spencer looked down at me before moving to press his lips to my neck. His lips attaching to the base of my throat before sucking gently on the sensitive skin.

Again my body reacted by trying to get closer to him. The closer I got to him, the faster he went. I could tell that he was trying to bring me closer to the edge, to finish the moment.

“Let go, it’s okay,” Spencer whispered. I swallowed roughly, my head falling forward onto his shoulder before my body slowly fell into his. It was hard not to stay quiet, my sounds getting louder as I finally finished.

I stayed against his body, trying to recollect my breathing for a moment. Spencer rested a hand on my back, rubbing soothing circles on my shoulder. And after I had my moment, I stood back up, leaning against the door behind me.

Spencer looked back at me as he pulled his hand out from my underwear. He looked down at his hand, more specifically the two fingers he just had in me. I nearly lost my balance again when he put those exact fingers in his mouth. And it didn’t help at all when he moaned.

“You did so good, Princess.” He looked at me with a soft smile. Part of me was worried that was all we were going to do. Sure it was nice, but that was that the end of it?

He cupped my face again before pressing his lips back to mine. His arms were wrapped around my body before he led me towards my bed. But I didn’t realize we were going to my bed till the edge of it hit the back of my knees.

A breath of air was knocked from my lungs the second my back collided with my bed. I looked up at Spencer, watching as he fought to take his jacket off. But when he finally did get it off, he was back over my body, his lips on mine while his hands roamed my body. My fingers quickly unbuttoned his shirt, and his hands were pushing up my dress. His touch was like wildfire across my body, and it felt near impossible to breathe.

“Please, Spencer,” I whimpered as his lips reattached to my neck. My eyes fluttered shut as he gently sucked a spot on the base of my neck. His hands pushed the top of my dress down, making it sit around my hips.

"Tell me what you want, Princess," he spoke against my skin.

"You… I just need you…"

It was really… strange. I had just met him not more than 2 hours ago… and I couldn't get enough of him. Even though I knew this would be the only time I'd ever see him, I never wanted the moment to end. I needed him more than I needed air, it felt like. I needed the night to last as long as possible.

Spencer looked down at me for a moment before getting off the bed. I had to hold back my laughter as he struggled to take his pants off. And after throwing his shirt to the ground, he was back over me, his body between my legs. My chest tightened, and at the same time, my heart sped.

I tried not looking further than his neck. But it was so hard. Did I want to see what he looked like before anything happened? Or would it make me want to back out?

I shouldn’t look...

“Will it hurt?” I brought my eyes to look up at him. I wasn’t exactly scared. I was more worried about it hurting than anything else, I think. I wanted this.

“Maybe for a moment, but not too long,” he whispered as he brushed his thumb over my cheekbone, “If it hurts too much we can stop… But you have to tell me,” he spoke so softly.

“I can do that,” I whispered, keeping his eyes on him. My arms wrapped around his neck as he pressed a soft, yet passionate kiss to my lips. His hips slowly started to lower towards my sex. That was when my breathing picked up, and my chest heaved slightly.

“It’s okay, you’re doing such a great job,” he whispered against my lips, “I got you.”

A soft wince came from my mouth when he carefully entered me. My fingers knotted in his hair, gently tugging it as he slowly kept going. I struggled to take a deep breath. My head fell back and my lips opened.

“Spencer,” I whined, finally allowing air to enter my lungs, “You’re so big,” I moaned as I pressed my head into my pillow. One of my arms fell from his body and landed on the bedding beside me. My hand gripped the bedding.

“You’re doing a great job, Princess,” Spencer whispered as he grasped my hand and held it. I looked up at him and nodded lightly. “You’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” I whispered and stared at him. After a moment, he carefully moved his hips, and soon after fell into a steady rhythm.

“Please… Please don’t stop doing what you’re doing,” I gasped. I slowly ran my hands up his chest to his shoulders before wrapping my arms around his neck. Spencer looked down at me, his eyes half-closed as he stared. “It feels so good,” I whimpered as he started to slowly move his hips.

My legs tensed for a moment when he bottomed out in me, and I could feel the wind being knocked out of me. Spencer looked down at me as he brought a hand to rest on my cheek.

Spencer grabbed my hand and moved it to rest against my belly. An unfamiliar bump hit my hand through my stomach and caused me to gasp and look up at him. Spencer smiled and nodded lightly.

“Do you feel how deep I am?” he whispered softly.

“You… You’re…” I took a deep breath as I stared at him. He pressed his lips back to mine. His movements hastened and he pulled his hand away from mine, moving it between us and to where our bodies met. A small whimper fell from my mouth, again, as he began rubbing a finger on the already sensitive bundle of nerves. “Daddy,” I whined as his hips quickened for a moment before faltering.

I cried out as an unfamiliar warmth spread throughout my body. Spencer moaned into my ear. My legs were wrapped around him, clinging to him as he rode out our highs together. And, as I came, I couldn’t help but moan out his name.

My chest was heaving as my breathing tried to catch up with the extreme movements I was just doing. I couldn’t move my legs off him. I wasn’t ready for him to leave me just yet.

“Don’t move…” I gasped, looking up at him, “Please, Daddy… stay inside me…” I cried as he began moving away from me. My hands gripped his arms, holding him above me. Spencer looked down at me, his eyes glued to the way I squirmed beneath him. There was such an intense gaze in his eyes as he looked at me, I wasn’t sure what to do.

He lifted his hands and rested them on my cheeks. The way he held himself over me without actually crushing me was impressive. What was even more impressive was how he carefully pressed his hips back to mine.

“It’s okay, I got you,” he whispered, brushing the apple of my cheek with his thumb. I stared at him, my chest quickly rising, only to fall just as fast. It felt hard to breathe, my body still feeling full with him. “You did such a good job, Princess,” he pressed his forehead to mine.

I didn’t even realize I was crying till Spencer’s thumb moved across my cheekbone. I looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Are you okay?” Spencer whispered as he kept his eyes on my face.

“I’m good. I’m okay. I promise.” I wrinkled my nose and nodded. Spencer smiled softly and returned the nod. “I’m-I don’t know why I’m crying,” I laughed lightly before sniffling my nose, “I’m sorry.”

“Sex can be an emotional thing for some people. And since this was your first time, it was an emotional experience. You’re okay. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” Spencer reassured. I stared at him and nodded, agreeing with what he said. “I’m going to get you water and a wipe or something.”

“Uhm… Yeah that’s okay… I guess. Bathroom is over there. I should have a cup in there. And there should be paper towels too.” I nodded as I gestured towards the bathroom. Spencer pecked my lips one last time before pulling away from me and leaving the bed.

‘It’s just a one-night stand,’ I kept telling myself just so I wouldn’t forget what this really was. And, in the morning, I’d never see him again.

{***}{***}{***}

My body jerked slightly when I woke up. An arm was wrapped around my middle, and the body that was connected to the arm was close to mine. Her head was resting on my chest, her ear right over my heart. She, and like my surroundings, were unfamiliar.

“Crap,” I whispered, looking down at the girl and her sleeping form. She hummed as she nuzzled her head more into my chest. I pulled on my lower lips as I carefully pulled her arm off mine. I had to be quick as I slipped out of the bed.

Usually, I wasn’t the type to just sleep with someone and then leave them the next day. To have a one-night stand, if you will. If today wasn’t the sort of day it was, I’d stay with this girl till she woke. But I had to leave to get ready for a new semester at the college.

I quickly grabbed my shirt and pants, throwing them on my body as I quietly and quickly left her apartment. My feet dragged quietly across the ground as I got closer to the front door. I pulled the door open at just the right time. Or maybe it was a bad time.

A young woman was standing with a carrier filled with coffee cups, her fist was lifted like she was about to knock. Our eyes locked before hers carefully looked down my body, lingering in spots that made me very aware.

“Holy shit,” she stared at me with wide eyes, “She wasn’t joking when she said she likes older men,” she stated, the shock in her tone was so apparent that it left me in shock. It was her friend from last night.

“I-I’m sorry.” I looked at her with furrowed brows.

“You’re old enough to be her father,” she spoke before pushing past me. I turned as she entered the apartment. “She’s got balls of steel to fuck a guy like you,” she spoke as she set the carrier on the coffee table, “But, I’m happy she did… Hope her first time was good,” she chuckled before winking at me.

“I-I have to go,” I nodded before leaving. I pulled the door shut. I tried not to linger in front of her home for too long. She’d probably be awake soon, and I really didn’t want to stick behind.

I kept my head low as I ventured on my walk of shame to the closest coffee shop. And then, from the coffee shop, I’d get a taxi to return home… To return to my home.

The second anyone finds out I had a one-night stand, I’m dead. I’m leaving. I could only hope it stayed between me and those two girls.

{***}{***}{***}

I looked over at my coworker and nodded, only half paying attention to what they were saying. Which, in turn, made me feel bad. This morning is not my morning and there were only so many reasons why.

Then I looked across the grounds, looking at all the new and familiar faces returning for a new semester of classes. My eyes landed on a familiar girl walking beside a friend. She was laughing and smiling at whatever her friend said.

“Fuck,” I muttered as I stared at the girl. Then she looked up and saw me. An embarrassed look grew across her face as her gaze fell from mine. I kept my eyes on the girl across the campus for a moment longer, long enough to notice that the friend she was with had spilled coffee over her shirt.

“I have to go…” I grimaced as I looked at my colleague. They looked back at me before slowly nodded. I kept my head low as I walked back towards the building and towards my lecture hall.

Thankfully I was the first and only person in the room. Enough time to prepare over everything. To free my mind of… of her and what we had done last night. But oh dear God, it was so hard.

I thought I had a lot of time on my hands, seeing as the class didn’t start for 5 more minutes. I thought it was bad when I saw her across the campus. Then she entered my lecture hall, clearing her throat to get my attention.

She introduced herself like I had no idea who I was. As if this was the first time we ever met. Maybe she forgot? But she definitely wasn’t drunk enough to forget. I wouldn’t have taken advantage of someone wasted as Luke or Derek would say. She was lucid, I know that much. Hell, she was able to give the taxi driver her address.

“Spencer… Reid… Professor Reid is fine... Reid... Doctor Reid. I'll-I’ll answer to pretty much anything,” I rambled, feeling as if I couldn’t stop myself from talking. She looked at me with a knowing smile, and I wondered if she thought ‘Oh, I know you’ll answer to anything… Daddy,’ That’s probably a bad thing to think, right?

“Oh! It’s wonderful meeting you, Professor Reid,” she kept talking as if she didn’t know who I was.

“Pleasure meeting… Meeting you too,” I paused with a forced smile at her, “Can’t wait to have you in my class.” I stared at her. The way she stared at me confirmed that she was pretending that she didn’t know me. I thanked God or whatever other Deity was out there that she was pretending. I don’t think I would have been able to survive if she acted like we knew each other.

“Can’t wait to be in your class.” She nodded at me before going to the first seat in the front row. I stared at her for a prolonged moment, noting the way she crossed her legs at her ankle, and looked down at her notes. She held her pen between her thumb and forefinger, the end of it just barely between her lips. I couldn’t stop hating on myself for just leaving her this morning.

Then I noticed she was staring back at me. She had a smug smile on her lips as she looked at me. It felt as if she was reading my mind as if she knew every thought that had passed my mind from the moment she entered my lecture hall.

‘Shit,’ I thought as the memories of last night forced themselves to the front of my head. All the things I said to her last night stood in the spotlight. The idiot part of me that said the stuff about impregnating her and how she kept calling me daddy stood out loud and clear. I broke this poor girl, and it was too late. And the worst part about it is… I’d do it again if I had the chance.

My pants tightened and my face grew hot. How the fuck was I supposed to get through the day? Let alone this semester?! That’s the thing I wasn’t supposed to do.

I was happy when the end of the class came. Everyone stayed in the room for a moment, bantering with each other for a moment before leaving.

I kept my eyes, and head, low as all the students filed out of the room. A few people stayed around to ask me their questions, or give me their comments. It was until the last standing student had exited the room did I realize someone was still at her desk.

“Is there something-” ‘I can help you with,’

“Why’d you leave this morning?” she asked, standing up from her spot. I looked up and away from the paperwork I was “working” on. Swallowing down my own pride and unnecessary fears, I stood. My fingertips resting on top of my desk. “Woulda made you coffee… Breakfast even…” she whispered with a shrug.

“Right…”

“You were hoping I was so drunk I forgot who you were, right? That’s what it is?” she asked, her eyebrows knitting together as she spoke. I watched as she stepped around her desk and approached my own. “I thought… I don’t know what it’s like the morning after… But if that’s what it is… Then I don’t want it,” she scoffed as she stared at me. I didn’t mean to hurt her as much as I did. But it was already too late, and the damage was done.

“That’s not what it’s like. I promise,” I whispered as I looked at her. I wasn’t prepared to make up excuses and lies as to why I just left. But I also don’t think she’d believe my truth either.

“Then why did you leave,” she ask-No, she begged. Begged me for the truth.

“I-I, uh, I had to leave because of this. I needed to get ready for this class,” I tapped down on the hard surface of my desk. Her eyes dropped down to the desktop. I could see the range of emotions on her face as she looked at all the papers scattered on my desk. Maybe she would believe me. Again, I don’t think I would have been able to come up with a believable lie.

“You could have woken me up, still… I seriously would have made you coffee,” she muttered before shrugging, again.

“Next time then,” I swallowed roughly as I stared at her. Her eyes shot up from the desk and landed right on my face. I could tell she was trying to keep her sudden excitement hidden. But I knew she was excited because of the way the corner of her lip twitched up slightly, and the way she shifted her stance, and the way her grip on her books changed, and all the other things I could list off but won’t.

“Next time?” It was obvious she struggled to keep her voice low.

“I mean, never say never, right?” I asked, shoving my hands in my pockets. She looked at me with a smile as she hugged her books closer to her chest.

“Right… Never say never,” she whispered as she looked back down at the desk, “It was nice meeting you, Professor Reid,” she paused before looking up at me, a smug smile back on her lips, “And, it was nice seeing you again, Spencer,” she winked at me before walking out of my lecture hall. I swallowed roughly, staring at the space she once occupied.

Fuck.

if you want to be a part of a taglst or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

taglist: @spencer-reid-in-a-pool @thebluetint @muffin-cup @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @spencersmagic

#shadow writes stuff #masterlist #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fan fic #criminal minds fan fic

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achillieus · 3 years

Text

we’re fools (bucky barnes x reader)

summary: for all bucky barnes knows, he hates clichés. and this thing between you two, happens to be the biggest one.

(enemies to lovers trope or i watched the society on netflix recently and based this entirely on harry bingham and cassandra pressman)

pairing: college au!bucky x reader

warnings: alcohol, a lot of sexual references, but also a lot of fluff, bucky and reader are in love, also bucky gets cheesy and he hates it

(other parts) (masterlist)

part 3/3:

Bucky thinks he fell in love on a Tuesday.

“This year, I’m gonna ask Peggy Carter out.” It’s the first day of their third semester and Steve is putting his black baseball cap in his perfect hair, checking his reflection on his phone screen. One of the freshman girls winks at him and he shyly half smiles.

Usually, Bucky would tease him about it, but now he’s attention is wholly on something else. Someone else.

A girl at the other end of the hall, holding a paper juice box, wearing a gaudy denim dress that stops right before her knees.

He’s certain he hasn’t seen her before and judging by the adrift look on her face he deduces she’s in her first year. Is she pretty? He can’t decide. She’s definitely something. And if he stares at her a bit longer than socially acceptable, well let’s say, it’s completely unintended.

“Buck, did you hear what I said?” Steve says at one point and Bucky isn’t sure for how long he has been lost in her figure.

“Yeah sure.” The girl starts walking at their direction -it must be your lucky day, Bucky-, clutching the golden heart jewel around her neck. She’s looking at the doors, she’s looking at the big campus map they have on the wall. She’s looking everywhere but at him and it’s almost offensive considering the amount of time he spent looking at her.

“I’m sorry,” And then she’s there standing a few steps behind Steve. Almost hidden behind his colossal demeanor. “I can’t seem to find the Admission Office.”

A small nervous laugh escapes her lips and Bucky watches the little wrinkles around her eyes, the subtle blush on her cheeks. She doesn’t look pretty. No. She looks consuming.

“Admission office is on the left, doll”. He replies a little too fast. He had to beat Steve. He had to talk to her.

She smiles at him and somehow, along that smile, Bucky thinks he fell in love. With you.

(bucky barnes has been in love with you for 563 days)

“Did you just kiss me?”

His voice is barely a whisper and his vision is blurry and it’s weird because suddenly he realizes how scared he’s of you. Of the power you have on him. An alarming craving. Every addiction he can’t control combined. Bucky isn’t afraid of many things, not exactly. But he’s afraid that you’ll take his heart and break it, if you want to. And he’s more afraid that he’ll just allow you to. He wonders, for the split of a second, if you have any idea how everything changed when your lips met his. How something inside of him shifted.

“I’m sorry,” You finally answer and he needs a moment to compose himself, “I’m so sorry I just thought-”

“Shut up, I’d died if you hadn’t kissed me.”

“What?”

It’s innocent and terribly oblivious, the way you ask him that and he half smiles, almost touches your palm before his mind stops racing. Ignores the alcohol in his body. Reminds him that he’s Bucky Barnes, that he’s clever and brilliant and a little bit narcissistic and that he doesn’t do love. Not anymore. And that people adore him for that. And that he needs to uphold it. At least try to.

“I’m not repeating that soppy thing I said,” He drawls and smirks, his teeth gleaming in the fluorescent light of the hall. He has his mask back on. He’s playing his part again. And then he takes a quick step, opens his door and turns around, swift motions and hard grips and suddenly your spine hits the walls of his room. “But you can repeat that sexy thing you did with your tongue.”

Bucky isn’t stupid. He knows he’d perish and wither in a blast if you asked him to, yet he would never admit that. At least not so fast. And specially not to you. He has built his persona so carefully, wore it like an armor, it has become a second skin.

His chapped lips scratch soft against your neck, his hands play with the end of your dress and you observe the way his orbs are colored darker now. He knows what he’s doing. It’s a show he’s practiced. His touch is sharp, like a razor, cuts through your epidermis, comes close to your veins and the muscles of your heart.

And you’re ready to close your eyes, savor every minute of it, offer yourself like an altar and let him wipe the rationality out of you, but the moment his fingers find the wet silk between your legs there’s pain and your throat dries out instantly.

“Bucky, wait.”

“What’s wrong doll?”

“Can we stop?”

There’s the cruel split of a moment where the anxiety inside of you flares up dangerously and you fill like on the edge of a cliff, like falling and it’s horrible. And then you see his body relax, breathing a sigh of relief and laughing.

“Thank God you asked.”

“Barnes,” you hit him with your elbow, “You’re doing wonders for my self esteem right now!”

“You’re an idiot,” he replies with a grimace, “It’s just that I’m drunk and I prefer if I’m not drunk when we have sex. I want to remember the whole thing.”

A strange sensation tingles somewhere between your ribs and your stomach, something so pure and new, and it raises goosebumps all over you. And you smile at him.

And somehow along that smile, Bucky’s mask starts to fall.

Bucky Barnes, you learnt within your first month in college, is a year older than you, a proud boy that always asks the right questions and always gives the right answers, with charms and wits of a living god.

Bucky Barnes, you learnt the night you kissed him in the narrow aisle, may have a sharp tongue but he also has the sweetest lips, soft and liqueur like.

Bucky Barnes, you learn some days later, doesn’t want many people to know about you two, and sits three tables away during lunch.

“Are you embarrassed of me?”

Your mind is racing with dozens of hurtful possibilities, some more or less, and Bucky looks at you, eyes widen and surprised.

“Why would I be embarrassed of you?”

“I don’t know,” you take the tea cup in your hands, drink and stay silent for a while, observe the way he’s fidgeting with his fingers, “Why else would you avoid me whenever there’s someone else but Sam around?”

It takes some time before he walks closer, sits next to you by his bedframe and touches your hand, your skin freezing under his.

“I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

Your heart almost stops, because Bucky is never scared, and his answer feels strangely heavy and bitter from his lips when he says, “I just don’t want anyone to ruin this.”

He doesn’t smile, doesn’t even smirk like he usually does, just stares at you with narrow eyes and a quick breath.

“Bucky, I hate it to break it to you,” you say, a glint of amusement in your voice, “But I don’t think others care that much about us.”

You cup his face in your hands, guide him backwards, his back hitting the pillow and it’s the first time he has no choice but to comply.

“And even if they do,” you breath in, wet your lips and tease the corner of his mouth with your finger, “It’s not our problem.”

Bucky grabs the back of your neck, shifts even closer to you, his heart not missing a beat. And when you kiss him, he smiles. And somehow along that smile, Bucky becomes more of himself.

It goes like this;

People read it in his eyes. How his gaze never leaves you even while you’re writing a test and he needs to concentrate, how he looks mesmerized when you braid your hair while scanning the textbook in front of you. How he could find you even in the middle of the biggest crowd.

People see it in your reactions. How your fingers always wrap around his wrist, almost instinctively, before he leaves, and you kiss him one time on the lips, and then one more on the cheek. How your voice changes as soon as he enters the room. How you’d know he’s here even without looking.

You really have to try to be oblivious to love.

(text messages between classes)

(10:26 AM) bucky: hey does taylor swift have to be playing in the background when we have sex

(10:27 AM) you: it’s not even noon bucky what the hell

(10:27 AM) bucky: i went through your spotify and APPARENTLY you have a “🍆🍆🍆” playlist

(10:27 AM) bucky: and it’s just taylor swift and hozier???

(10:27 AM) bucky: who the hell wants to have sex with a taylor swift song playing

(10:28 AM) you: I’m gonna kill you

(10:28 AM) bucky: nah <3

It’s surprisingly easy, dating Bucky Barnes, and by the end of the first month, you feel at home, at ease. He talks a lot, way more than you expected him to, he shares his favorites, the way he always underlines quotes he likes in the books he’s reading or how he never eats anything that has soy in it. He shows you everything about him, not just who he is, but who he’s ever been. And it’s beautiful.

And you observe how he breathes easier now, smiles more. He doesn’t keep his guard up, doesn’t flinch when nobody’s looking at him.

He thinks it’s weird.

He thinks it’s weird, because kissing has always been an act of foreplay to him and he never paid much attention, but now, with you, he could spend his whole life kissing you.

But when you start pulling at the buttons of his black expensive shirt, well, it’s not like he’s complaining. He presses his body against yours, his hands almost shaking, his fingers burying in your hair, slowly tugging.

“Bucky,” You breath in his neck, “I may be bad at this.”

“What?” He whispers as he leaves wet trails all the way to your chest.

“I haven’t done this before, so I may be bad at it.”

He stares right at your lips, notices your sweet cherry scent mixing with the sharp notes of his aftershave, touches the spot under your eyes and smiles.

“Guess we’ll have to do it over and over again then.” He’s half laughing, half kissing your shoulder and you can feel your cheeks flush and your entire being tighten.

And then his cold fingertips draw circles on your inner thighs and you close your eyes, and Bucky forgets how to breath.

“I probably sound like a fool but, I’m in love with you.”

You didn’t plan on saying it that early, but he’s here, warm and glistening and in your arms and you can’t go another minute without hearing the words out loud.

“And I probably sound competitive but, I’ve been in love with you since God knows when.”

(AH IT’S FINISHED BUT YAY THEY’RE IN LOVE)

tagging: @tonystankschild @osterfieldshollandgirl @roguesthetic @buckyjms @ohladymacbeth

#i had one of the worst months but hello hello i am back #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #college au #au!bucky barnes #college au!bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #hassandra #fools

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quirklessidiot · 3 years

Text

title : cigarettes and parfaits [3] pairing : older!nanami kento x younger!reader [13 year age gap, ft toji fushiguro] Genre: romance, fluff, slice of life, josei, angst, comedy, strangers to lovers au

Summary: you’re pretty sure you’d remember marrying a man 13 years older than you, right?

Warnings: alcohol, smoking, mild smut, y/n making stupid decisions, everyones a human-au so yeh non-canon stuff and everyone’s happy (periODT) i keep forgeting to add that this isnt beta-rread..all of my stories arent so yeah shshs Notes: ah, i feel like this story will be lengthen more than 8-10 chapters shshshs i wanted to add a little spice anyways thanks for all the comments uwu ily all!

Masterlist || taglist || [prev ; next] [updates; every saturday!]

“Y/N-chan!!!”

You cringe in embarrassment as soon as you hear that awfully familiar and cheerful voice, you could barely remember this man and the events that transpired the night before but here he was, acting like your new best friend. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to go here but you needed clarity. Surely you didn’t just legally marry a man at an Izakaya out of all places last night?

“Oh, you actually did marry him.” Gojo Satoru proclaims as soon as you take a seat across him, he gestures around his face, “I could tell by your whole, ‘I hope this guy is messing with me’ face. You have it, signed and sealed. Even got the cute matchy rings that I had one of my assistants delivered.”

You pale at the thought of his assistant coming in with a silver ring. Wasn’t he sober? How could he not have stopped you two from doing something as reckless and stupid as this? Weren’t older men supposed to be more responsible than this?

“Why the hell didn’t you stop us?” You groaned, burying your face in your hands, embarrassment painted all over your features.

“I was just as drunk as you two.” He confessed, scratching his head, “probably even more drunk but anyways back to the topic in hand, I only remembered it when the same assistant came in and congratulated me about it. It’s good I had your number on my phone before you two bailed.”

“So you don’t really remember?”

“Bits and pieces.” Gojo grinned, this guy was a maniac, how did the serious man you met just this morning have friends like this? You probably wouldn’t even last long, “I did call Nanami-”

He’s cut off by the rough sound of someone pulling a chair out, you immediately jump on your seat when you realize it’s Nanami Kento, the guy from this morning. The man you had recklessly married!

“This better be some prank you’re pulling, Satoru.” His voice was anything but kind that you almost wanted to hide behind Gojo’s back.

“Hey, hey.” Gojo raises his hands, “Don’t look at me. I didn’t force you into anything and stop scaring your poor little partner.”

Nanami snaps his gaze towards you and you notice how his eyes soften just a bit when he sees your red ears and your eyes looking away from him, “You better call Geto and fucking fix this, I refuse to bother this young-”

“It’s fine.” You cut him off, still shy and red, “It’s...fine...I just…Please don’t think I’m burdened by it. It was technically my fault for even agreeing immediately.”

Nanami clenches his jaw and turns away, “Nevertheless. L/N-san’s young. I hope to not be such an uncouth man like you.” he retorts, voice sharp as he eyes the white-haired businessman up and down. Gojo, seemingly used to it, rolls his eyes behind his dark shades.

“Maybe you guys should try it out.”

The blonde man looks like he’s about to smite the white-haired man out of existence yet Satoru remains oblivious to his friend’s gaze, “Don’t ya think so? It will take a while for those divorce papers to settle in so why don’t you two go out and get to know each other? Who knows…” he sing-songs the last part and Nanami is so close to chunking his briefcase towards the tall businessman, not even caring

“Ah, he’s not exactly wrong, Nanami-san.” you try to calm him down, placing a small hand on his broad shoulder.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually listening to this idiot’s idea.” Nanami replied, gaze narrowing.

“Not really but you have some problems I can help you out on and I have problems that you can help me out on...Of course, the last say is on you...”

“Told you I actually had a brain.” Satoru piped in.

“Shut up, Satoru.” he quips, then turns to you, “I’m thirteen years older than you, L/N-san. I have two high school kids that could pass off as your siblings, and-”

“Well, I technically did marry you.”

“You were drunk.”

“Doesn’t exactly really excuse it.” You laugh nervously, “The whole divorce process usually lasts up to a few months, some even takes a whole year. I could help you out with the boys and I can use you to ward my family off from moving back home.”

Nanami is quiet for a moment, actually thinking about it. Weighing the pros and the cons, not only would you be able to help him out but you’d also be able to get Gojo and blind-dating out of his back.

There really wasn’t anything he could loose, really.

“Or you two might fall in love.” Satoru teases, making Nanami throw him another side-eye, as if saying ‘I dare you to say another word.’

It’s a Thursday today and Sukuna absolutely loathed Thursdays apparently because it reminded him of Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays. They all were far from the weekend Everyone seems to be happier than usual though. Maybe it was because you were there teaching some basic shit at the board or something.

“...and if we transfer this here and change the positive to a negative, you’ll end up having five as your answer.” You smile, placing your chalk down, “Does anyone have any questions?”

Echoes of no’s resonated throughout the room.

“Alright then, let’s end the lesson here so you guys can have an early lunch. I don’t think an assignment is in order since many of you were able to get a perfect score in the activity awhile ago.” You winked. A couple of whoops resonated throughout the whole class right after.

As the kids shuffle out of the room of the class, Sukuna remains behind. The ojisan had cooked them something delicious this morning and he wanted to eat it in peace without that pesky Nobara grabbing a share from his bento and Yuuji’s annoying babbles about horror movies with his best friend Junpei (the only one who was really bearable was Megumi, really)

“Sukuna-kun?” you called out, snapping him out of his small trance, “Are you alright?”

He notices a glint of worry in your eyes, he had to admit since his transfer here last Monday, you were the least annoying teacher in the academy the blue-haired professor in Japanese literature was absolute shit since he loved to tease him a lot and that bald-headed teacher in science who looked a lot like Mike Wazowski was an annoying twerp who loved dawdling in him and Yuuji’s business and you were kind of good at your job. Not only did his idiot of a brother stop coming to him and their ojisan for help in math but he could actually do the worksheets right and get an actual decent grade at it.

“Yeah.” he roughly replies.

“That’s good.” You smiled, he watched as you bind their worksheets together and clip them in utmost delicacy, “You should head to the cafeteria now, I heard they’re serving milk bread today.”

Without saying anything more, you left the room, leaving him there in the silence.

Well, the Christmas tree idiot was right.

You kind of had a motherly aura on you and it didn’t even look forced.

No wonder, everyone in this room was whipped for you despite your subject being a pain in the ass.

“You look like an idiot.” You mumbled as you slapped Mahito’s hand away in annoyance, your workmate wiggling his eyebrows like the little shit he is.

You completely forgot you did have someone like Gojo Satoru in your life and it was one of your co-workers, Mahito, a Japanese literature teacher who was too nosy for his own good.

“You’ve got a ring on your ring finger and a mailman comes in and gives you an invite for Zen’in Toji’s fortieth birthday.” he whistles, “Even Jogo-sensei gossiped by the water cooler awhile ago, saying that you had eloped with the man. Not that I’m judging you or anything...”

You choke on your saliva, clearly thrown off by the backhanded comment. That darn bald-headed fool that looked like the green eyed monster from the DreamWorks cartoon, he sure needed to lay off the gossip and actually focus on his job as the head of the science department, “You’re not denying it.” Mahito stated, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, “Why aren’t you denying it?”

“I’m not dating Megumi-kun’s father.” You grumbled, finishing up your paperwork, “That man is off limits.”

“Right,” he drawls on sarcastically, “...because you have a strict rule against dating hot older men with money.”

“I also teach his kids and his cousin…” You deadpan.

“We don’t even have a rule against that.” He retorts, rolling his eyes, “If we did, Hanami-sensei would’ve been fired a long time ago.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re so secretive. If it isn’t Toji Zen’in, who’d ask you out?”

“Hey, I do have a man.” You huffed, “and he’s very kind and considerate...”

The image of the tall and lean man sleeping next to you slowly wormed its way back from your memory and you feel your cheeks start to flush. Good god, what were you? twelve? How embarrassing.

You needed to get that image off of your head, it wasn’t right.

It was all temporary, anyways and he doesn’t even see you in that sort of way-

“Yes, I’m Sukuna and Yuuji Itadori’s guardian…” a very familiar stoic voice could be heard from the nearby table, cutting your thoughts short. Wait, were you so head over heels for the man that you started imagining him here? Yuuji and Sukuna’s guardian? Wait a minute.

All color drained from your face as you snap your head behind you to find the same man you were imagining.

Oh no.

Oh no, indeed.

There stood Nanami Kento in all his glory; crisp suit, stoic face, and eyes laced with mild worry.

“...L/N-sensei is Sukuna-kun’s adviser, by the way. It would be best to discuss this with them.” Akari somberly informed the man, turning to your direction. You don’t miss the shift of expressions when he sees you standing there.

Your mouth parts and you know you look like gawking fish trapped in a small aquarium.

“Akari-sensei’s looking at you with the new hot daddy.” Mahito mumbles next to you, eyeing him up and down, “Definitely wonder where all these old men come from these days.”

You were only half-listening to your co-worker because your head was all over the place, just what were the odds that he was the guardian of the new transferee’s? Just how awkward would everything be? Why did it even have to be at this school out of all places?

Never ending questions pop out of your head as you approached them, “Good afternoon, Nanami-san.” Your smile comes out very stiff and awkward while you hold your hand out for him to shake, clearly there was no memo on how you were suppose to act around your sort-of-fake-husband-whos-kids-you-actually-taught.

Nanami reverts back to his stoic expression as he clears his throat, “Yes, good afternoon to you too, L/N-sensei.” he greets, maintaining a straight-laced tone.

“Akari-sensei says that Sukuna has been quite...rude...in class…” you try to rack your brains up to describe his kid.

“Your son literally pointed out that the history lesson I was teaching was fake and that I should study again so he could get his tuition’s worth.” Akari looks clearly perplexed and ready to throttle the boy if it was legal. You had to admit, Sukuna went overboard with that insult.

You knew how passionate Nitta was about her job and what Sukuna just said to her was like a big ‘fuck you, you suck.’ to her.

“I’ll be sure to talk to him about this,” he sighs, bowing down, “I’d like to ask for forgiveness for that, the boy is a good and smart student-”

“Nanami-san, the school not only cares about grades but character as well.” Akari Nitta sighed, cutting him off, “I’ll let this slide once, if he does that again, it goes on the record.”

You internally bit your cheek, still trying to process everything that was going on.

“I understand. Thank you for that.”

“I’ll walk him out, sensei.” You immediately say soon after, wanting to have some alone time with him, “Let’s go, Nanami-san.”

You walk right next to him silently, some students peerlessly glancing at the tall blonde next to you but you were too immersed in thought to notice the stares, “Nanami-san?” you ask softly as soon as you reach the exit.

Nanami Kento looks at you, his eyes still laced with a bit of worry, “It’s okay.” you silently comforted him, “Just talk to him calmly.”

“That’s not the problem.” he sighed, “I just didn’t expect that the person I married would be the boy’s teacher.”

You sweat drop, “Aren’t you worried about talking to Sukuna? I mean, he literally just disrespected a teacher and you said that he and you weren’t in good-”

“It’s easier to talk to him about that rather than…” he paused, showing his ring, “this.”

You blinked.

Seemed like Nanami knew what to say about the little attitude problem his son had, “So you must be used to this?” you asked, “Him disrespecting the teacher?”

You notice the shift of expressions on his face, you had only known this man for a few days so far but he was starting to get easier to read. His eyes shed more emotion than his face, no wonder he likes wearing those funny sunglasses a lot.

“It’s something I’ve scolded him over a couple of times,” he gruffed, trying to dance around the subject, it seemed like he had such a soft spot to the point where he had a problem with disciplining them, “At times I believe it’s just because he’s way too smart for his age. The boy has read history books for fun when he was a kid and solved quadratic equations to prove that he’s better than me when he was ten.”

“It still doesn’t give him the free pass to say things like that to a teacher”

“I know,” he acknowledged, “I’ll be sure to give him a better scolding-”

“No, you see. This is why he thinks he can get away with it. He isn’t afraid of you. You’ll only probably tell him that you can’t do that.” you frown, crossing your arms, “You do know that not all sensei’s are as nice as Akari-sensei and he could get in trouble for that even more in the future, right?”

Silence lingered between you two for a moment and suddenly you realize that you must’ve said something way off the rails.

“I..” you turn red, embarrassed by the sudden outburst, “That was too much, wasn’t it?”

You look at him directly in the eye, the worry-filled ones are now replaced with a softer gaze. God, he really needed to stop looking at you like a kid. It would only make this set-up more awkward!

“No,” he mumbles, “It...It wasn't too much…”

“Oh.” you cleared your throat, flustered and looking away from his face, “Well, okay then goodbye then Nanami-sa-”

You needed to get out of this conversation quick.

“Kento.”

Your gaze snaps directly towards him, clearly taken aback by the correction.

“What?”

“We’re technically married now, right?” he softly corrected, “Call me Kento.”

“Oh,” You uttered again, this time softly. You looked down on your shoes, it seemed like the floor looked really interesting now, “Then bye-bye, Kento.”

“Bye Y/N.”

He leaves you standing there, cursing yourself because of your erratic heartbeat at the way he says your name in that voice. First name basis? okay, totally normal for sort-of lovers, right?

taglist [if crossed out, i can’t tag u ; - ;]

; @coldbookworm ; @frankenstein852 ; @neavil ; @shephard17895 @kristineyoshaii ; @airybnb ; @okachansenpai ; @amortentiaxo ; @rinvtaro ; @franko-pop ; @kozutenshi ; @kaldoesthings ; @moonlitdabi ; @chococroissant ; @bleepop ; @kaldoesthings ; @moonlitdabi ; @chococroissant ; @pettybroccoli ; @nixxona ; @kiyoo-omi ; @omibaby ; @bokkunto ; @peccobagnaia ; @sangwoahbigbussy ;

@Kurok1717 ; @hcn421 ; @shinhiromi ; @airybnb ; @katshuya ; @atsuhaya

#jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagines #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #cigarettes and parfaits

476 notes · View notes

disastercomingfaster · 3 years

Text

Spilling Secrets (Bechloe Fanfiction)

Alright, so this is my first attempt at a fanfiction in...months, I think. Please go easy on me, I’ve been trying to get over my writer’s block and an awesome user named @lyricalmuse91 recommended I write a fanfiction based on the song “If You Love Her” by Forest Blakk and so I came up with this slightly angsty but also very fluffy fanfiction. Please enjoy! And if it’s not great, my apologies, hopefully this will get me out of my slump. Please know I am open for more requests in the future, just inbox me.

Take it If she gives you her heart Don't you break it Let your arms be a place She feels safe in She's the best thing that you'll ever have

“I’m in the room, yet all you can do is stare at your phone?” Chloe’s giggling voice snapped Beca out of the trance she was in.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Beca quickly swiped out of the page she was in and set down her phone.

Chloe grinned and made a grab for Beca’s phone. “What kind of porn were you looking at?” She teased.

Beca grabbed the phone and stood up. “Nope, nope!” She held the phone above her head.

Chloe burst out laughing. “Are you serious Mitchell?” She reached up and easily grabbed Beca’s phone. Beca blushed; Chloe was a good two inches taller. This had been a rookie mistake.

“Chloe, please don’t.” Beca let down her guard and pleaded with the red head.

Chloe looked at Beca in surprise. “What’s wrong?”

“Just please, give me back my phone.” Beca begged. Slowly Chloe handed her the phone.

“Whatever it was, you can tell me.” Chloe reminded her.

Beca sighed and shoved her phone back in her pocket. “Let’s talk about something else, please.”

Chloe sighed. “You always do this.”

“Do what?” Beca asked.

“You’re my best friend, and I feel like I know nothing about you.” Chloe told her. “I’ve told you everything about me, every detail about my life. But I only partially know you.”

“You know what matters.” Beca insisted.

“Do I?” Chloe asked, sitting back on the ground. “Do you not trust me?”

“I don’t trust anyone.” Beca said impulsively.

“I didn’t think I was just anyone.” Chloe snapped.

Beca sighed and sat down next to the red head. She wrapped her arms and pulled her into a hug.

“You’re not just anyone.” Beca assured her. “I’m just…I’m just scared you won’t like what you see. I can’t lose you, Chloe.”

“Have you murdered anyone? Because I think I can handle anything else from you.” Chloe teased.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t killed anyone that mattered.” Beca teased back. Chloe gently smacked the younger girl’s hand and they both laughed.

She always has trouble Falling asleep And she likes to cuddle While under the sheets She loves Pop songs And dancing, and bad trash TV There's still a few other things

Beca pulled her keys out of her pocket, doing her best to not fall right asleep at the door. Somehow her group project had underestimated how long it would take to finish up their report. She hadn’t gotten out of the library until nearly midnight.

Beca pulled the front door open, trying to be as quiet as possible, only to be greeted by Chloe in her pajamas.

“Hey bestie.” Chloe waved.

“What the fuck are you doing up, hun?” Beca sighed. “Don’t you have class at seven tomorrow?”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I wanted to watch some Jersey Shore reruns.” Chloe shrugged.

“Again?” Beca asked.

“I mean…” Chloe shrugged. “You know what always helps me fall asleep, right?”

Beca rolled her eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Please, Beca?” Chloe pleaded.

Beca sighed. “Let me put my stuff down in my room and change, I’ll meet you in your room.”

Chloe was already comfortable in bed by the time Beca made it to her room. Beca rolled her eyes. “Move over, weirdo.”

Chloe grinned and made a space in bed for Beca to slide in. Beca wrapped her arms around Chloe.

“Thank you.” Chloe snuggled into Beca.

“I can’t believe you make me do this.” Beca complained.

“Oh, shut up. You love this just as much as I do.” Chloe laughed.

Beca rolled her eyes, but Chloe was partially right. Beca both loved and hated cuddling Chloe until she fell asleep. She hated in for the same reason she loved it.

She was in love with Chloe.

And Chloe had no idea.

Take it If she gives you her heart Don't you break it Let your arms be a place She feels safe in She's the best thing that you'll ever have She'll love you If you love her

“So, you two are literally spooning almost nightly, but you can’t tell her you love her?” Jesse laughed and took a sip of his beer.

“I wouldn’t call it spooning.” Beca practically whispered, looking around the bar.

“No, it’s literally spooning.” Jesse said, not bothering to keep his voice down. “You are straight up friendzoned.”

“And you clearly can’t handle alcohol.” Beca said, grabbing his drink out of his hand.

“Hey!” Jesse protested.

“You can get this back when you stop being an asshole.” Beca said. “Which means you will probably never get it back.”

Jesse laughed and grabbed his drink. “Becs, she likes you. She needs you to help her fall asleep. That’s sickening and possibly adorable.”

“Yeah, and what if you’re wrong?” Beca snapped, taking a swig of her beer. “What if you’re wrong and I completely ruin our friendship and make things totally awkward?”

“You’re probably already making things awkward because you’re in love with her and you’re pretending you aren’t.” Jesse pointed out.

“God.” Becca groaned. “I hate it when you have actual points.”

Jesse winked and took another sip of his beer. “Look. Beca. She’s crazy about you. You two are together all the time and she has these desperate-looking googly eyes whenever you’re around. She’s into you. And it’s really gross, to be honest. Go for it, kid. What’s the worst that will happen?” Jesse laughed. “I mean, I told you I was hot for you and here we are getting drunk on a Tuesday night three years later even though you have absolutely no feelings for me.”

“I mean, that is a good point.” Beca admitted.

“Just go for it, Becs. You hold everything in, why not try trusting people every now and then?” Jesse took anther chug of his drink. “How about the next round is on me?”

“Sounds good.” Beca finished her drink. “I think I’m going to need it.”

Kiss her with passion As much as you can Run your hands through her hair Whenever she's sad And when she doesn't notice How pretty she is Tell her over and over So she never forgets

“You’re doing that thing again.” Chloe’s voice interrupted Beca’s thoughts.

“What?” Beca asked, locking her phone.

“Beca, something is clearly going on with you.” Chloe insisted.

“Just drop it, Chloe.” Beca insisted, shoving her phone in her pocket.

“We’ve been best friends for over three years. I’ve told you every stupid thing about me but now something is clearly going on that you think I can’t handle hearing about and you’re keeping me in the dark!”

“It’s complicated.” Beca muttered, avoiding eye contact with the red head. To tell Chloe what was going on with her phone could easily lead to Beca sharing she had feelings for the red head which could lead to Chloe never speaking to her again.

“I’m listening.” Chloe said, taking Beca’s hand. Beca bit her lip, trying to control the rush of emotion that went through her.

“I can’t-”

“Beca, if you don’t want to tell me, it’s fine. I just want to make sure my relationship with you works on both sides. It can’t just be me sharing to you, me complaining to you. I want you to feel like you can trust me, hun.”

“Michelle’s pregnant!” Beca burst out.

“Michelle?” Chloe asked. “Who’s Michelle, Becs?”

“She…we dated…we had plans and we were…” Beca sighed. “It doesn’t matter. She moved on…and I mean I guess I should have by now, and I thought I did…it was high school for Christ’s sake…but I mean, we were going to get married and…fuck, I’m pathetic…”

“Beca, you don’t have to judge how you feel.” Chloe squeezed her hand.

“I was crushed years ago and now I’m…I’m this.” Beca laughed.

Chloe laughed. “And what’s wrong with this? I think this is pretty cool.” Chloe squeezed Beca’s hand. They both stared at each other for a moment. “I think ‘this’ is perfect.” Chloe whispered.

Before Beca knew what was happening, Chloe had pressed her lips against Beca’s. Beca immediately pulled Chloe closer.

“You…you wanted…you also…?” Beca sputtered out in-between kisses.

Chloe pulled away and giggled. “Honestly, this is what I thought you were hiding.”

“I mean, it was.” Beca laughed. “But I thought if I shared anything all my feelings would just pour out.”

“I knew you were just a big softie under all that attitude.” Chloe giggled, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

“Hey! Beca Mitchell is no softie!” Beca laughed and put her lips back to Chloe’s.

“Wait, wait!” Chloe pulled away. “Does that mean you trust me now?”

Beca laughed. “Chloe. I always trusted you. And I was so, so fucking scared if I told you the truth, I would lose you. And I don’t know what the hell I would do without you, Chlo.”

Chloe grinned and kissed Beca. “I’ll make sure you’ll never have to find out.”

On days when It feels like the whole World might cave in Stand side by side And you'll make it She's the best thing that you'll ever have She'll love you If you love her like that

95 notes · View notes

es-kay-zee · 3 years

Text

Advice | Seo Changbin x Reader

pairing: changbin x reader

genre: smut

warnings: very very soft dom! reader (like, ridiculously soft), sub! idol, afab reader, oral (m receiving), piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, praise

requested: yes

word count: 4.3k

proofread: surprisingly yes :) although it was very brief so there could still be mistakes lol

taglist: @bxngchxn @jisungsplatforms @qtieskz @vogueinnie

a/n: feedback is always appreciated! i thrive off of it! i love hearing what you guys think about my writing so feel free to let me know what y'all think of this one :)

____________________

A loud knock at your door was the last thing you expected at 11.43pm on a Tuesday night. Especially in the middle of a pandemic. But the most surprising part about it, was when you opened the door, you found your co-worker Changbin standing outside.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, peering over his shoulder and seeing his car parked on the side of the road.

“I need your help,” he replies, holding up various work folders, using the best pleading look he can muster up.

“You came all this way, just for some advice on a case?”

“Yeah. I know it’s late. I just-” he pauses for a second, sighing deeply and running a hand down his face. “I just need to have this done by the day after tomorrow, and I’m struggling with it. It keeps playing on my mind and I haven’t been able to get a good night’s sleep because of it.”

You take a deep breath, weighing your options. It’s not uncommon for Changbin to ask your advice on occasion, especially considering you’re a few years his senior, but what is uncommon is for him to show up at your house to ask. And you were just about to head to bed.

“Okay, come in,” you say before you can stop yourself, and you aren’t entirely sure why you invite him in. Sure, he needs the advice, but you’re tired and want sleep. You could’ve asked him to come back in the morning. But he’s here now and you’ve already invited him in. “Just put the stuff out on the coffee table.”

He does as you instruct, walking towards the couch, taking a seat and spreading some of the folders out on the small table.

“You want anything to drink?” you ask, walking towards the kitchen.

“Maybe just a glass of water, thanks,” he calls back.

You return to the living room, two glasses in your hands. You sit down next to Changbin, placing the glasses on the table, one in front of him and the other in front of yourself. He picks up his glass, takes a sip, and clears his throat before beginning to explain the case and what he needs help with. A short while passes, filled with him asking questions and you answering as best as you can. But you can’t help but notice that Changbin’s eyes keep running down your body every now and then. It’s obvious that he thinks he’s being subtle about it but based on the fact that you’ve watched him do it almost every time means that he’s anything but. It’s even more obvious how distracted he is, because of the number of times he asks you to repeat what you’ve said throughout the night so far.

An idea pops into your had, a rather devilish thought. You don’t know what compels you to do it, maybe it’s the crush you’ve had on him for the past year, or maybe it’s just the desire to get him worked up. You’re not entirely sure, but you do it anyway. You stand up, and Changbin’s eyes flick over to you, but he’s quick to avert his gaze back to the files on the table, not wanting to be caught staring at you. And that’s the moment you initiate your plan, quickly undoing the top two buttons of your black satin pajama shirt while he’s not looking. You round the table and take a seat on the floor, across from Changbin. You have to hold back a laugh when his eyes immediately land upon the now exposed skin of your chest. It’s entertaining, how just a simple pop of a button has the man so flustered.

You lean forward, further emphasising your cleavage under the guise of looking at the files, and it’s faint, but you can hear the low groan that leaves Changbin’s parted lips. You look up at him, and you can’t hide the smirk at the way his eyes are fixated on your chest. He hasn’t even noticed you looking at him.

“My eyes are up here,” you say, and the way Changbin jumps slightly at your words is almost enough to make you laugh.

“Uh, yeah, sorry.” The tips of his ears are red, and judging by the bulge in his sweatpants, the tip of his dick is probably the same colour. He’s quick to catch you looking at his bulge, grabbing one of your couch cushions and placing it over his lap, blocking the view from your eyes.

“Do you need any more help?” you ask, holding up a file. But the way your eyes continue to stare at his obscured lap makes it obvious that you’re not talking about the case. He clutches the cushion tighter, squirming slightly in his seat at the added pressure on his crotch. He doesn’t say anything in response to you, and you shake your head slightly at the silence. “C’mon, baby boy. You can tell me.”

The way his eyes widen at the nickname has you thinking you’ve gone too far. But the quiet whine that leaves his throat lets you know that it’s okay, that he likes it. He mumbles something under his breath, but you can’t quite make out the words.

“What was that? You’ve gotta speak up,” you say, keeping your voice calm and gentle, wanting to gently coax him into saying what he wants to say.

“C-can I kiss you?” he repeats. His question is cute, and you can’t help cooing quietly when he says the words.

“Of course,” you reply, standing up and walking back around the coffee table towards Changbin. You slowly pick up the cushion and place it to the side, replacing it’s previous position with yourself. You straddle his lap, your clothed core resting right above his bulge. You want to grind down against him, but you don’t. He asked for a kiss and that’s what you’re going to give him.

You pause before leaning in, taking a moment to look at his face, his silently pleading eyes and his pouting lips. He looks absolutely beautiful. And just before he can let out an impatient whine, you connect your lips with his, your hands resting upon his cheeks while his find their place on your waist. Your lips are soft, softer than he thought they would be, and the press of them against his own makes him feel like he’s in heaven, dancing among the highest clouds. Immediately, he’s intoxicated, drunk on the feeling of your lips. If he could somehow live without the need for oxygen, he’d never pull away, he’d be content to kiss you for the rest of time.

And just when he thinks it can’t get any better, you tangle your fingers into his dark hair. Your grip is firm, but you do not tug, there’s no need to when he’s already loving what you’re giving. Besides, there’s something fun in the gentleness, in the sweet, slow movements of yours and his lips. There’s no rush to feel more, no rush to indulge in anything more than what’s happening in the moment.

And when you do finally pull back, it’s not for lack of desire. You’re stopped only by the burning in your lungs, you’re body’s necessity for air growing greater than your heart's yearning to keep kissing him. The only sound that can be heard in the otherwise silent room is yours and his breathing, until you speak.

“Should we go to the bedroom?” you ask, wanting to be sure that he wants this as much as you do. You keep your voice quiet, no more than a hushed whisper, worrying that speaking any louder will somehow tarnish the calm atmosphere of the room.

He knows he shouldn’t do this. It crosses so many boundaries between his personal and professional life. For starters, you’re his co-worker, add to that the major crush he has on you and it’s bound to be a disaster. Emotionally. He cares about you, admires you. Sleeping with you will only amplify his feelings. But he’d be damned if he didn’t want this so badly.

“Yeah, we should,” he replies, speaking just as quietly as you.

Slowly, you stand up, taking his hand in yours and leading him down the hallway. He admires you from behind as you walk, his heart racing in excitement. He can’t believe he got to kiss you, let alone getting the chance to do more with you. You walk into your bedroom, still hand-in-hand with the man behind you. You stop, turning to face him. It’s cute, the way his eyes are wide, looking at you as if he doesn’t want to miss anything. You take a step closer to him, connecting your lips with his in another gentle kiss before grabbing the hem of his shirt and slowly lifting it up. Once his shirt is off, you lean in, whispering in his ear.

“Do you wanna take off my clothes or do you wanna watch me do it?” A shudder runs through his body from your breath tickling his skin, and he still can’t believe this is happening. Both options sound like a dream come true, but he knows which one he prefers.

“Watch, please.”

“Then get on the bed, pretty boy.”

Your words send another shiver down his spine, but maybe that’s just the nickname. He loves it, the way you talk so sweetly, the way you treat him so gently. He wishes he could live in this moment forever. He does as you say, climbing onto the bed, leaning against the headboard, sitting with a perfect view of you. And watching you strip becomes his favourite movie, something he could watch over and over and never grow tired of. The way your fingers dance over the buttons of your pajama shirt, slowly undoing them has him wishing he had a photographic memory. Wanting to engrave this image of you in his mind forever.

Your shirt falls to the floor, and your satin shorts do the same, revealing a pair of simple underwear underneath. If you were expecting company like this, then you probably would’ve worn a nicer pair, maybe one of your lacy ones. But Changbin couldn’t care less what kind of underwear you’re wearing; you look stunning nonetheless. You slowly crawl up the bed, until your face hovers over his. He pouts his lips, silently asking for another kiss, and as much as you want to give it to him, you want to hear him ask first.

“Use your words,” you say, but there’s nothing demanding about the way your speak, giving the instruction calmly and quietly.

“Can I please have another kiss?”

You nod once, kissing him again. This time the kiss is deeper, but still just as soft. Slowly, delicately, you place your hands against Changbin’s chest, running them downwards. And as your fingertips trace down Changbin’s torso, he’s sure that they’re made of electricity, for wherever they touch his skin tingles in a frenzy of static. It’s his new favourite thing, the way your touch ignites him in ways that nothing else ever has, or ever will be able to.

Your fingers reach the waistband of his sweatpants, and you toy with the drawstring. You want to draw this out, want to build up to the moment you finally touch him. Your lips never stop moving against his as you gradually, almost leisurely pull his sweatpants down. He raises his hips to help you, even aiding in gently kicking them off his ankles. His underwear remains on, just as yours still is, for now. Your lips move from his to his neck, placing soft pecks just under his jaw.

“Can I mark you?” you ask, breath fanning across his skin, and he’s in love with the feeling. He adores that you ask, that you take into consideration what he wants. He knows that that’s common courtesy, that everyone is expected to ask. But that doesn’t stop his heart from warming at the sound of your words.

He nods, mumbling a quiet “please” before you do just that, softly sucking on his skin. There’s no quickness to the way your lips move, no hurry in the way the marks form along the column of his throat and along his collarbones. The blemishes aren’t dark, they don’t need to be. It’s all about the pleasure of their creation, not necessarily what they represent. Ownership. You’re not trying to own him, to claim him as yours. You’re wanting to make him feel good, to make him feel as if he’s floating among the clouds. And it’s already working, you can tell from the happy sighs escaping his lips with every gentle suck of your own. You begin travelling lower and lower with each touch of your lips, no longer marking him.

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper against his skin, and his face warms at the praise. Your lips don’t stop until they reach the waistband of his underwear, being blocked from kissing any more of him. Your slide your fingers under the edge of the clothing, looking up at him to make sure he’s okay with this. He nods slowly, almost pleadingly, and you smile at him. Just as slowly as you removed his sweatpants, you do the same with his underwear, watching the way his cock finally springs free from the confines of his clothes.

You lower your head again, and he watches the way you press kisses along his v-line. Normally he wouldn’t have the patience for this, he’d be begging you to touch him. But it’s you. And he could wait for hours and hours if he had to for you to finally touch him.

“You’re being such a good boy for me, so patient,” you mumble just loud enough for Changbin to hear you. Your eyes connect with his, and you smile at the way his eyes light up at the praise. “I think that earns you a treat.”

Another kiss, this time to the tip of his dick, and the way he sucks in a breath of air at the feeling is now one of your favourite sounds. But you know that his moans will sound even better. And you’re right, your ears finally being blessed with the sound of one of his moans when you finally take him into your mouth. You don’t take him all the way, just focusing your efforts on the head, but he doesn’t care how much of him you take. He’s just grateful that you’re even doing this, and if he wasn’t pinching himself right now, then he’d be sure that he’s dreaming. It feels too good, too heavenly to be real. But it is real.

You bob your head, movements slow, sensual, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, running along his slit. It’s divine, the taste of his precum hitting your tastebuds. It’s not normally a flavour you seek out, but right now you can think of nothing better. You look up, wide eyes looking into Changbin’s as you continue, movements never speeding up. You watch the way his hands clutch at the bedspread, trying to find something he can grip to keep himself grounded. He wants to get lost in the pleasure, but not too lost that he misses anything you’re doing.

You bring one of your hands up, linking your fingers together with his. His grip on your hand is tight, secure, and you know that this is the moment to do it. You take him all the way in, somehow managing to not gag in the process. His back arches, another moan escaping him. It’s still quiet, but he doesn’t have to be loud. You bob your head a few more times before pulling away, not wanting to get him too close to the edge just yet. You want to make him cum, but not in your mouth. You want to fuck him first. It’s not until you’re wiping the runaway spit from your chin that you finally register the throbbing between your own legs. But you’re distracted from that again when Changbin asks for yet another kiss. And who are you to say no?

You kiss him, sliding your tongue into his mouth to dance with his own. He groans at the taste of himself, absolutely loving it. You stand up, ridding yourself of your underwear before straddling Changbin again. You take him into your hand, not wanting him to go too long without pleasure. You line him up with your entrance, your dripping essence too much to ignore any longer.

The stretch stings as you slowly slide down onto his cock, and you know you should’ve done more to prep yourself. But you can’t bring yourself to care, especially with the way Changbin sighs so happily at finally being inside your walls. Tight, warm, it’s pure heaven as he fills you to the brim. You remain still for a moment, giving yourself time to adjust to his size. And not once does he complain. Not once does he ask you to move, too busy just letting himself feel you. Letting himself feel the way you clench around him, the way you completely envelop him.

“You’re so big, Binnie.”

Another nickname. Another nickname that makes him feel good. And the praise. He absolutely loves it.

You slowly lift your hips and drop back down just as slowly. Fast bounces are fun, they feel good, but nothing beats the sensuality of slow movements, of sweet, gentle sex. You set a slow pace, one that lets you both feel everything. You grab Changbin’s wrists, bringing his hands up and placing them on your breasts. He’s quick to swipe his thumbs over your nipples, rubbing over the perked nubs as your hips keep moving, bouncing and grinding unhurriedly. His head drops back, the pleasure he’s feeling making him unable to keep his eyes open. He tells himself that if something happened right now and he died, then he would die a happy man.

It feels so good, and he can already feel himself gradually approaching his release, and you can tell from the slight shaking of his thighs and the way his breathing picks up. You bring one of your hands to your clit, wanting to get yourself closer to that edge of ultimate pleasure. You rub languid circles against the bud, making you clench tighter around Changbin’s cock. His moans increase, not in volume but in frequency and pitch, and the sound is music to your ears. A song you could listen to forever.

“I-I’m gonna cum,” Changbin says, his voice breathy. You lean down closer to him, whispering into his ear.

“You can cum in me.” You clench as you say the words, and that tips him over the edge, causing him to spill inside your walls. You bounce once, twice more before you cum as well, burying your face into the crook of his neck. You continue to grind against him, riding out your highs until the both of you come back down.

The room is filled with heavy breathing, and it’s several minutes before you climb off of Changbin. Your legs are jelly when you stand up, tired from riding him, but you don’t mind. You could deal with wobbly legs every day if it meant you got to make him feel good. You get dressed again, telling Changbin you’re going to go get you both a glass of water before doing just that. By the time you come back with the glasses, he’s redressed as well, sitting on the bed. He takes the one you hold out for him, gulping down the water.

“You’re welcome to stay the night, if you want,” you say before an awkward silence can fill the room. “It’s getting kinda late and that way I can help you with the case in the morning, seeing as that’s the whole reason you showed up.”

If sleeping with you was Changbin’s first mistake of the night, agreeing to stay was his second. Not that he regrets either choice, but he’s not sure exactly what it is that makes him say yes to staying overnight. Maybe it’s the way he feels about you, or maybe it’s just that he really does need advice on the case and it’s easier to stay than come back the next day. At least, the latter is what he keeps telling himself is the reason.

You offer him your bed, and you hope he accepts, but instead, he opts to sleep on the couch, not wanting to intrude on your already generous hospitality. And so, that’s what he does. He sleeps on the couch. You give him your cuddliest blanket to keep him warm, and one of your nicer pillows, wanting him at least to be as comfortable as possible. He finds the gesture sweet, and he smiles warmly at you before bidding you a good night. You sleep alone, but you’re comforted by the knowledge that he doesn’t regret what happened. At least, not enough to leave.

When Changbin awakes in the morning, it’s to the smell of pancakes wafting from the kitchen. He smiles at the aroma before eventually opening his eyes. He spots the files on the coffee table and is immediately reminded of what transpired the previous night. He can hear you humming a tune while you cook, and it only serves to further broaden his already wide smile.

He sits up, quickly stretching his tired body before standing. He walks towards the kitchen, leaning against a wall to quietly watch you as you gently dance around as you cook. There’s something he loves about seeing you like this, seeing you in your natural being, not being confined by the expectations of a professional work environment. Just watching you, he can tell that he really likes you, even more than he did before. He wouldn’t say it’s love, he doesn’t know you quite well enough for that yet, but maybe someday he can work up the courage to confess his feelings to you. Not today, but definitely someday. You spin around, jumping slightly when greeted with the sight of Changbin, his hair still dishevelled from sleep.

“Good morning,” you greet, a bright smile lighting up your face. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“I am.”

“Good, because you’re pancakes are…” you pause, grabbing one more pancake from the pan before sliding it onto one of the two plates, both already containing a stack each, “done. I don’t know what toppings you like, so I just grabbed out all the ones that I have, and figured I’d let you decorate your pancakes until your heart’s content.”

You hand him the plate as you finish speaking, gesturing to the other bench upon which sits numerous different toppings. There’s a small bag of mixed berries, chocolate, caramel and maple syrup, whipped cream, and even a tub of vanilla ice cream. He weighs up his options before coming to a decision, placing two extra-large scoops of ice cream on his pancakes along with a generous drizzle of chocolate syrup. He looks around for some cutlery, hoping to find some without having to go searching too far. But he’s out of luck, unable to see any anywhere on the kitchen bench.

“Knives and forks?” he asks, waiting for you to tell him which draw they’re in without having to go searching on his own.

“On the table,” you reply, pointing to the dining table where there's two places that have been set.

“Ah, which seat’s yours?” he asks, walking towards the table, plate of pancakes in hand.

“Either one, I’m not too fussed.”

With a nod of his head, Changbin chooses a seat and sits down, waiting patiently for you to put toppings on your own pancakes and also take a seat. Only when you start to eat does Changbin do the same. You both have idle chit-chat over breakfast, the small conversation flowing easily. The pancakes are delicious, and he’s sure to tell you that multiple times.

Once you both finish, Changbin offers to do the dishes as his thank you for making breakfast. You tell him he doesn’t have to, that you can just get to them later on in the day, but he insists, telling you it’s the least he can do after your kindness to him. Truth be told, you don’t like doing dishes, so it doesn’t take too much for him to persuade you into letting him do them for you.

You stay sitting at the table while he scrubs the dishes, watching his arm muscles as he does so. You can’t help but think to yourself that he truly is beautiful, a sculpture carved by the best of the best. He’s magnificent. You shake yourself from your wandering thoughts, reminding yourself that there’s a reason he stayed the night.

“You still wanting help with that case?”

“Yes, please. It’s due so soon and I’m sure I won’t meet the deadline without some help. So, if you’re willing to help then I will absolutely accept it.”

“Of course, once you’ve finished with those dishes then we can pick up where we left off last night,” you say, smiling softly. You can tell his mind goes straight back to the events that happened the night before because of the way his ears go red. It’s adorable, how just the thought of what happened has him flustered. He clears his throat, nodding quickly at your words and continuing to clean the dishes.

Once they’re done and dried, you both walk back over to the coffee table, each taking a seat on the couch. You gather some of the scattered files, sorting them out tidily. Changbin watches you move, happy to finally be getting some much-needed advice from his favourite co-worker.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #changbin smut #seo changbin smut #skz changbin smut #stray kids changbin smut

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delacyrose224 · 3 years

Text

Gold Rush

-Pairing: drummer!Jungkook x reader, with a side of guitarist!Jin x OC

-Premise: You were never one for rushing into relationships, but what happens when you meet a certain blue-haired drummer?

-Genre: rock band!AU, some fluff but also some angst

-Word Count: 8.1k

-Author's Note: This is based on the song 'gold rush' by the one and only Taylor Swift! It will still make sense if you don't know the song, but you'll find some fun Easter egg references if you do know it. Also, fun fact: this is the first fic I've written since high school...do with that what you will.

“Come...on!” Margot grunts as she tugs on your arm. You literally have no idea why you’ve agreed to this night out-it’s Tuesday, you have work in the morning, you’re already tired and the night hasn’t even started.

“I’m coming,” you mutter begrudgingly, as you step carefully in your heeled boots down very narrow steps into what looks like a very seedy bar. The Dynasty. You walk in the door, and instantly try to retreat-it’s tiny, the floor is sticky with who knows what, and it’s packed. More like The Die Nasty...this could not be further from your comfort zone.

Margot, meanwhile, could not look more excited. She’s been talking about this concert for weeks now. You can’t even remember the name of the band, that’s how not your scene this is. Margot steers you towards the bar. “What do you want? My treat, since I made you come out on a work night just to be my wing woman.”

You scrunch up your nose in disbelief. Her wing woman? Has she seen you? You’re the most awkward person alive around men, especially cute men. Plus, it doesn’t help that you barely had time to throw on an Eagles t-shirt with a pair of jeans, and your hair has frizzed out from the light drizzle of rain that started on the walk over. “A Malibu with coke works,” you say, adding, “And make it a double!” at her retreating back.

You turn and scour the packed room for an empty booth, table, anything. Your eyes finally land on a tiny two person booth in an awkward corner of the room. Margot may not be able to see the band perfectly from here, but at least you’ll have seats. “A drink for my best friend in the whole entire world!!” Margot smiles brightly as she brings your beverages over to the table. “Do you think Jin will notice me? I tried to look cute, but not try too hard, y’know?” She smoothes down the front of her blouse nervously. You immediately have a witty retort ready to go, but you don’t have the heart to say it when you look up and see how fidgety she is. “Mar-if he doesn’t notice you, he’s an idiot,” you smile kindly.

The show isn’t due to start for another 30-45 minutes, so you spend that time chatting with Margot about work, life, and everything in between. She’s convinced that if she can just get Jin to notice her, that she’ll be able to introduce you to one of his bandmates, and then you can go on double dates (or something like that). “Mar, do you really think tortured artists go on double dates? I really can’t see it,” you snort into your drink. Let alone a guy in a band being interested in you, you’re about as boring and straitlaced as they come. You lose track of time as you continue the conversation, and the alcohol is certainly making you less annoyed that you’re here.

“They’re starting, they’re starting!” Margot squeals, gripping your arm. “Really?” You try to twist around in your seat to see, but before you get very far, you’re being dragged out into the space right in front of the stage. You’re not quite front row, but you’re awfully close-too close for your own liking, if you’re being honest.

“Margot…” you hiss, trying to get her attention, but all hope is lost. Her eyes are glued to the small stage, waiting for the man she’s deemed to be the love of her life to walk out and pick up his guitar. You give up after a while, huffing and crossing your arms to show your displeasure. A few girls around you give you a sidelong glance, seemingly judging you for being upset at a concert. How dare you? After staring at you for what they deem to be an appropriate amount of time, they go back to their own conversations, which you’re able to overhear due to your close proximity.

“Were you at the last show? They’ve improved SO much since they started, I love them!!” one yells a little too loudly, while her friend nods enthusiastically.

“Have you heard that Jungkook dyed his hair blue?! He was hot before, but now…” the girl can’t even seem to finish her sentence, she’s so overcome by the ‘hotness’ of this Jungkook guy, whoever he is.

As soon as his name is mentioned, you suddenly seem to overhear it multiple times in the conversations surrounding you while the band’s crew finishes setting up for them. You lean over to ask Margot what the heck the deal is with Jungkook, but just as you open your mouth to begin talking, a loud strumming blasts from the speakers on the edge of the stage, and you mouth ‘nevermind’ and step back to where you were.

A tall, broad shouldered man steps out of the shadows at the back of the stage to deafening screams, his guitar already strapped across his chest. He lifts up a hand in greeting, and steps up to one of the mics set up. “Thank you all for coming out! We hope you have a great time tonight!” He blows a kiss to the crowd (to more deafening screams). Margot looks like she might faint-this must be Jin.

Next to walk out is a sullen looking guy, shorter and smaller than the first. He walks to the side of the stage opposite of you, and picks up a bass. Forget Jin, forget Jungkook (whichever one he turns out to be), you like this guy. Sure, he’s cute or whatever, but he literally looks like he wants to be anywhere but where he’s currently at. “Same, dude, same,” you mutter to yourself under your breath. One of the girls from earlier must have overheard you again, because she turns and gives you a weird look. The multiple Malibu and cokes you had earlier give you the courage to tell her to mind her own business and leave you alone, but just as you begin to lean forward, the loudest screams yet erupt from the crowd. You immediately clench your hands over your ears (which you realize looks ridiculous at a concert) and turn to look at what’s caused the reaction.

Over the heads of the people in front of you, you see a mop of almost neon blue hair making its way to the drum set, but the rest of him is obscured as he swiftly walks across the stage. This must be that Jungkook guy those girls were talking about earlier. His hair looks like a blueberry as far as you’re concerned, and you still don’t understand what the fuss is about.

He settles behind his kit, and as the people in front of you move slightly, you catch a glimpse of Jungkook. His blueberry hair falls around his face in waves, and his nose is scrunched up because of the giant grin on his face, clearly ecstatic to start the show. Okay, he was cute. Cuter than bass guy and Jin (though you’d never utter that sentence out loud to Margot for fear of losing your life). Still, he’s just another guy in a band, right?

Jin starts the opening chords to the first song to deafening cheers, bass guy starting to play shortly after, and Jungkook having the time of his life on the drums. After a long intro, you hear a smooth voice with a tinge of rasp come through the mic. It instantly feels like your bones have turned to jelly, and you want to melt into a puddle (in the best way). However, you are confused. You’re staring at Jin, who is immersed in his playing, sweat already starting to drip from his brow from being under bright lights. His mouth isn’t moving. Why? He’s the lead singer. Are you imagining the lyrics you’re hearing right now?

You lean over to Margot, who’s conveniently also looking at Jin, albeit for a completely different reason. “Why isn’t the lead singer doing anything?” you shout over the music. “Huh?” she screams back, unable to clearly make out what you’re saying. “I said, why isn’t Jin singing?!” you yell.

Margot looks over to you, mirroring the confusion on your own face. “Look!” she points towards the back of the stage. There you see Jungkook, not only playing the drums, but also singing lead vocals in one of most attractive voices you’ve ever heard. Not only that, but he’s somehow managed to keep that scrunched nose smile from earlier on his face while doing it. So THAT’S what all the fuss about Jungkook was over. Just as your brain makes the connection between it being his singing coming through the speakers, he makes eye contact with you and his smile seems to grow even bigger, his eyes sparkling with delight.

Oh, you’re in big trouble.

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

The rest of the concert seems to go by in a blur. You have no idea how many songs the group does, you are so caught up in watching Jungkook perform...he clearly has talent, but you can tell he’s in love with what he’s doing. Even when sweat makes his hair start to stick to his forehead, he merely gives his head a shake (sort of like a dog), and keeps going with that wide smile on his face. It certainly doesn’t help that it feels like at least every other song, he’s making eye contact with you somehow-even though you’re not front row, even though his drum kit is at the back of the stage. Surely you’re making that up. He’s just a good performer, right? He makes all the girls feel like this, like he’s performing just for them.

As Jin strums out the final notes of the last song, you shake your head to clear your thoughts. This is dumb, you had too much to drink, and you were distracted by a cute guy who has a pretty voice. That’s all.

As the song dies out, you turn to your best friend. “Margot, you ready to go? I’m tired.” What you’ve failed to notice is that your best friend has disappeared while you’ve been wrapped up in your own thoughts. Did she go to the bathroom? Had she gotten more drunk while you were busy swooning (no, NOT swooning) over a certain blue-haired drummer? Just as you’re about to start panicking, you see her as the group of fans in front of you starts to disperse...and she’s talking TO JIN.

He’s sitting on the edge of the stage, long legs dangling off the front, head tilted back laughing at something Margot has said. His laugh doesn’t quite seem to fit him-it’s loud and squeaky, kind of like a windshield wiper dragging itself across the front of a car. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out his guitar pick, and goes to hand it to your friend. Simultaneously, he leans in and gives her a kiss on the cheek. Other girls that are around you, hanging back in hopes of meeting the boys, are clearly fuming at the action and some even stomp off.

On one hand, you are excited for Margot-she’s gotten the attention of the man she’s been talking about nonstop for days. On the other hand, you also want to leave-love is gross and you have no time for it. Since you can’t abandon your friend in a seedy bar with a man she hardly knows, you settle for the next best thing-your fifth (you think?) drink of the night.

“A Malibu and coke please,” you ask the bartender while sliding cash across the counter. You know you’ll regret the alcohol running through your system in the morning, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to care enough to stop. You pick up the drink, filled to the brim, and turn quickly to go hide in your booth from the beginning of the night. Surely Margot will come find you when she’s done talking, right? Just as you turn, someone walking the opposite way bumps elbows with you with enough force to cause half your drink to slosh down the front of your shirt and onto the floor.

“Oh wow, I am so sorry! I should have been paying more attention-let me get some napkins for you!” says some unknown male voice. You’re too busy mourning over your half spilled drink that you’d just paid too much for to reply. Suddenly, there’s napkins thrust into your hand, and you look up.

It’s Jungkook.

He’s even more attractive up close, if that’s even possible. He’s sweaty, but somehow makes it look good-his longer hair is swept back into a little blue half bun, his eyeliner is smudged, and he’s down to his white undershirt with ripped jeans. The dim lights of the bar are reflecting off both his earrings and what looks like the stars in his eyes.

“Um...are you okay? I can go get you a new shirt to change into-wait here!” Before you have the chance to form any words, he jogs off towards the stage where he has a conversation with the bassist. The bassist doesn’t look happy about what Jungkook says, but Jungkook still goes to the back of the stage, and comes back with a black piece of fabric in his hands.

“Yoongi’s pissed because these aren’t even ready to be sold, but whatever. Just think of it as an exclusive sneak peek or something,” Jungkook says as he hands the shirt to you. You accidentally brush your hand across his as you take what he’s handing you, and you feel like you might burst into flames with the way your insides feel like they’ve become molten lava.

You unfold the shirt to see that it’s got song lyrics written across it in dripping graffiti font, along with their signatures. The realization suddenly hits you that you still have not said a single word to the man standing in front of you.

“Y-Yoongi?” you stammer out. You hate how much you sound like a high schooler asking their crush to prom. “Oh yeah, that’s our bassist. The one who looks like he’d literally rather be anywhere else than playing with Jin and me,” Jungkook chuckles. “He’s really a softy underneath it all, but don’t tell him I said that.”

You laugh, though you feel like it sounds a little too forced and a little too loud. Your assumption seems to be right, as you see Jungkook raise one eyebrow.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I really am sorry I made you spill your drink.” He genuinely looks worried. About you. What universe are you even living in right now?

“I’m fine, really. Thanks for the t-shirt, you didn’t have to do that,” you mumble softly.

“It’s the least I could do for a pretty girl whose Eagles tee I ruined, don’t worry about it. Yoongi will get over it.”

Jungkook smiles that same smile he seemed to throw your way throughout the concert, nose scrunching up, eyes sparkling. It feels like you’ve been thrown overboard into the ocean in the middle of a storm. You can’t get your bearings, the waves keep throwing you under, and you’re disoriented. The only light is coming from the stars in his eyes. Surely this man who could date anyone he wanted to did not just call you pretty, as casually as he might have mentioned the weather outside?

You’re shaken out of your reverie as Margot and Jin approach the two of you. “JK, my man, sorry I took so long-I was too busy being enchanted by this lovely lady,” Jin smiles, and you can see that Margot is beaming with happiness. You’re glad someone’s night has gone well.

“No problem, I was just talking to...” Jungkook suddenly looks lost, realizing he doesn’t know your name.

“Y/N.” you blurt out. Margot looks at you strangely, but is distracted once Jungkook begins talking again.

“Yeah, I bumped into her and made her spill her drink, so I gave her one of our shirts and we were just chatting.” He smiles gently at you and your heart does a somersault.

“Nice to meet you. You must be cool if you’re friends with this one,” Jin nudges Margot with his shoulder. How long have the two of them been able to talk for, for him to know you’re friends? You’ll definitely need a debrief on the walk home.

You speak to Jin with much more ease and control than you can manage with Jungkook. “I like to think I’m cool,” you grin. At this, Jungkook smirks.

“She’s the best!” Margot chirps, clearly still a little drunk. Jin chuckles and puts an arm around her shoulders.

“Well, pretty girl, JK and I need to go help Yoongi with getting everything put up in our van. It was lovely to meet you,” he drops his arm from around her shoulders, only to pick up her hand in his and kisses her knuckles promptly. Margot giggles. “I’d love to take you out sometime.” She nods enthusiastically.

“It was nice to meet you too,” Jungkook leans in to half-whisper in your ear. When did he get that close?! You nod with a small smile in his direction-that’s all you can seem to manage when that drowning in the ocean feeling suddenly returns.

He and Jin turn to leave, and you go to your booth, making sure you didn’t leave anything behind before the whole drink-spilling fiasco happened. Seeing that you have everything, you turn to find Margot, only to see Jungkook whispering in her ear across the room and laughing.

Your heart drops. You were right all along-he does treat all the girls like this, like they’re special to him.

Margot comes up to you shortly after. “You ready to go?” you ask quietly.

“Yep!” she smiles, and drags you out of The Dynasty by the hand. The entire walk home, all she can talk about is Jin-how cute he is, how funny he is, how talented he is, and oh, did she mention how cute he is? You nod and smile in all the right places in her story. You are happy for Margot, but you can’t help comparing what she’s telling you with your interactions with Jungkook. You had acted like an idiot, and there was no way he was interested in you on any level. Plus, he clearly thought that your best friend was worth flirting with after Jin helped him escape your awkward conversation.

You shake your head to clear it as you reach your apartment building. Margot bids you farewell at the second floor, while you continue your trudge up the stairs to the fourth floor. You key into your apartment, throwing your keys into a bowl and heading for your bedroom.

Makeup off, pjs on, you’ve just finished washing your face when you look at yourself in the mirror. “Boys are dumb, and love is stupid,” you say to yourself, not sure if you actually believe what you’re saying. As you dry your face, you hear the sound of your phone receiving a text. Margot, no doubt, still waxing poetic about how she can’t believe that Jin wants to take her out on a date.

You slide into bed and turn off your lamp, grabbing your phone to set an alarm for the morning and to tell Margot that you’ll talk some more tomorrow during lunch.

Unknown Number

2:37 AM: Hey, it’s Jungkook!...I hope you don’t mind, I got your number from Margot. thanks for coming out to the show tonight, I hope you had a good time!! if you didn’t, you don’t have to wear the shirt I gave you, that would be weird for you to wear it if you hated our music…

2:41 AM: anyway, I just wanted to apologize again for making you spill your drink. Usually I’m not that clumsy, I guess I was distracted. You should come hang out with the band before our next show on Friday! only if you want. let me know...or don’t. Whatever you want.

2:45 AM: Can you tell I’m nervous? haha

2:46 AM: usually i’m not like this, but you’re really pretty and you seem cool. ANYWAY. I hope you hang out with us-bring Margot too, Jin would like that. I hope you got home safe and i hope i see you soon :)

You stare in disbelief at your phone. Jungkook just texted you. Jungkook just texted you FOUR TIMES IN A ROW. Good thing you are much less awkward via text, mostly because you have time to think out what to say. You can’t help the giant grin that forms on your face as you type out a reply.

2:50 AM: I made it home, thanks for checking in...I can’t turn down a good band shirt, so I’ll definitely be wearing it. Maybe I’ll wear it if we hang out, you’ll have to wait and see!

You place your phone on the nightstand and turn over to get comfortable. Maybe Margot wasn’t the only one who had a good night after all.

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

Three days later, you’re staring at your phone sitting on your desk. “Can you not?” Margot huffs from beside you, rolling over in her desk chair. “Just freaking text JK and tell him we’re coming to hang out with the band,” she rolls her eyes and lets out a huge sigh.

“Margot, can you not? Stop being so loud, we’re at work,” you hiss. Margot looks slightly taken aback at your comment, and then swiftly rolls back to her own desk.

You’ll deal with her hurt feelings later. For now, you go back to staring at Jungkook’s text that is boring a hole in your brain...he sent it about six hours ago, and you still haven’t replied.

Jungkook

8:53 AM: Morning! I know it’s kinda early, but i figured you might be at work already. You and Margot coming by later? Jin will cook for us! i think i can manage some cookies too, just don’t judge if they don’t taste as good as jin’s cooking...i swear he was a chef in a past life. You like chocolate chip?

You’d had brief text conversations each day since you met, nothing too crazy. Even so, you still can’t help but feel like your brain is freezing over, ceasing all functioning momentarily every time a text comes in from him. Margot is right, you just need to text him back already.

3:30 PM: Make it snickerdoodle and I’m there.

Jungkook immediately sends back a reply, overeagerly filled with emojis, their apartment address, and instructions to come over at 6. For a drummer in a rock band, he is surprisingly silly, kind, and warm. You’re not sure what you expected from him, but it wasn’t this.

The rest of the work day goes quickly, your mind preoccupied with what’s in store for you at the boys’ apartment. As soon as you and Margot step outside your office, her eyes are glued to her phone. “Hey, Margot...I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. I just don’t know what this...thing...is with Jungkook, and I’m stressed. Not an excuse, but you didn’t deserve me being rude,” you say in a small voice.

“Girl, I forgave you like ten minutes after you said it, it’s whatever. Look at this!” She shoves her phone under your nose, and you examine what she’s trying to get you to look at. Pictures of food? You’re confused.

“What is it?” you ask. “Our dinner, silly! Jinnie’s making us pasta carbonara with homemade breadsticks!” Your mouth involuntarily starts watering at even the mention of food. Homemade bread? Jungkook must not have been kidding about Jin’s cooking.

“Look look look, your boyfriend is making us snickerdoodle cookies too-how sweet!” Margot gives you a sly smile, and you can immediately feel heat radiating off your cheeks.

“He’s not my boyfriend! He’s just-whatever! He’s not even interested in me like that, he hasn’t asked me out or anything. Not like someone I know,” you attempt to distract her by bringing up her date with Jin (it had literally happened the day after meeting him, and he’d set up a second one for the weekend-you couldn’t help but be impressed). Even though you’re flustered, you still can’t stop the warmth spreading through you. Yes, embarrassment. But also Jungkook was making snickerdoodle cookies like you asked.

“Boyfriend or not, we’re here!” Margot singsongs as you walk through the front doors of an apartment building, and step into an elevator, pressing the button for floor seven.

There’s a loud pinging sound as you step out, and Margot knocks on the door directly across from the elevator. You hear clanging sounds, alongside shuffling and male voices indistinctly talking. The door swings open to reveal Jin in a pink apron.

“Hey pretty girl,” his eyes light up when he sees Margot standing in the doorway, and he immediately bends down to kiss the top of her head. Margot is positively beaming, and looks up at him like he’s her entire world.

You clear your throat awkwardly. “Oh hey, y/n,” Jin smiles warmly at you. “Jungkook’s excited to see you, he hasn’t stopped talking about you coming over since he started making those cookies.” Jin winks as your eyes grow wide.

“HYUNG!!” you hear Jungkook bellow from you assume the kitchen. As you all walk into the apartment, you can see him glaring at Jin.

“What? I’m just telling the truth, nothing wrong with that-right, Margot?”

“Right,” your best friend grins.

“Not you too, M. Why do I put up with this torture?” Jungkook pouts in your direction, blue strands of hair falling messily in his face. You can see he’s also wearing an apron, black-but with lots of flour stains.

You walk closer to the kitchen and lean on the counter that separates it from the living room. You may be nervous as ever, but maybe if you fake confidence, things will feel better.

“Oh, I dunno, maybe because he’s one of your best friends and bandmates? Because maybe it is the truth?” you grin cheekily.

Jungkook’s doe eyes go even wider than you thought possible, and it looks like he may drop the mixing bowl he has in his hands.

“Weren’t you excited I was coming over, Kook? I can leave if you want…” you step into the kitchen with him, reaching forward and gently pushing a loose strand of hair out of his face. You swear he leans into your touch, and it feels like electricity is coursing through your veins.

“I-I mean, of course I was! I invited you over, didn’t I? Of course I want you here.” Jungkook has a fierce blush creeping up his neck towards his face, and he looks like he wants to sink through the floor.

A deep chuckle resounds from the corner of the living room, and you turn around to see Yoongi smirking at the two of you from an armchair. “Can we eat now, please? As much as I love seeing the two of you absolutely not know how to function like normal human beings...I’m hungry.”

Jin uses this opportunity to sweep into the kitchen, grabbing his pasta off the stovetop and bringing it to the center of the dining room table. Margot brings the breadsticks over and places them down as well. You each take a seat, Yoongi sitting at one end of the table, Jin and Margot on one side, you and Jungkook on the other. Dinner unfolds in a relatively normal fashion, mostly silent because everyone is so hungry. Jungkook may have actually been underselling Jin’s cooking ability, because you’re not sure when the last time you had pasta this good was.

Just as you’re finishing up, the timer on the oven beeps, signaling that Jungkook’s cookies are done. He hops up out of his seat to grab the pan out of the oven. A few seconds later, you hear a loud expletive and a metallic clang. “Kook?” you call, already walking towards the kitchen. As you round the corner, you see him holding his hand under the faucet, water streaming over what looks like a nasty burn.

“Kook!” you exclaim, swiftly moving towards him, peeking around him to see the injury. “What happened?”

Jungkook turns around, seemingly just noticing your presence. He gives you a smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing. The pan started slipping out of my hand, so I went to grab it with my other hand to steady it. I just happened to forget I was only wearing one oven mitt.” He forlornly looks behind the two of you. You follow his gaze to see that most of the cookies have fallen on the floor, save for three. “I just wanted the cookies to be perfect.” His lower lip juts out as he begins to pout, staring at the cookies littering the floor.

“Jungkook, look at me.” His eyes raise from the floor to your own. “The fact that you even made any cookies at all is very sweet-pun intended. It’s the effort that counts. That, and making sure you don’t have permanent burn damage.” You reach out for his wrist and delicately turn his hand to look at it. It’s angry looking, but you can tell it will heal pretty easily (you may have suffered several cookie-related burns yourself in your day). “Just make sure you put ointment on this a couple times a day for about a week, and you should be fine.” You shoot him a soft smile, which he returns.

“What are you, a doctor?” he asks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you reply, grinning widely.

“Yah, why do you have to be so difficult? Here I am, trying to be nice, trying to get to know you more, and this is what I get in return,” he gripes, but there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Hmm...I dunno, Kook. I think you like it when I’m contrarian,” you giggle, turning to leave the kitchen. Before you can move through the door frame, Jungkook moves in front of you. You look up at him confused. He leans in close, lips brushing against your ear as he whispers.

“...maybe I do. But next time I see you, you should actually wear the shirt I gave you.”

He winks, leaves the kitchen, and leaves you to wonder what the heck just happened.

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

Your sporadic texts with Jungkook have turned into one long, continuous conversation over the past few weeks. It feels like you talk about everything, but also nothing. He remains somewhat a mystery, though you know this is because you’re still keeping him at arm’s length.

Jungkook is too good for you, you’ve decided. He’s cute, funny, charming, and talented. Everyone is in love with him for good reason. Every time he makes eye contact with you, his smile lights up his entire face. That smile has you falling faster than you’d like, and it isn’t a pleasant feeling. A cloudlike floating down to Earth? Try hurtling through the atmosphere like an asteroid determined to destroy the planet. You haven’t hit the ground yet, but you’re not sure if you’ll be able to properly recover once you do.

Kook

4:23 PM: Come with me to the beach this weekend! You need a break from work, and i need a break from the morons i live with...don’t tell them i said that. I need to work on song stuff too, but i’d like some company :)

Your chest constricts at his latest message. Is this a date? He hasn’t asked you on one before, but this feels suspiciously date-esque. But he’s working on band stuff, so maybe he really just wants company. You shoot off a quick text in the affirmative before you can think much harder about it. Jungkook immediately sends back a slew of emojis, as well as telling you he’ll pick you up at 8AM on Saturday to drive the two of you down to the coast.

The next two days go by in a blur. Before you know it, you’re standing in front of your closet Saturday morning, wondering what to wear on your not-date. It’s not quite summer yet, so you know the two of you aren’t wearing bathing suits (not to mention that would have been a whole other crisis to work through-being half naked in front of a very attractive man on a maybe-date? Absolutely not). You quickly put on a pair of jean shorts, and smile as you grab their band tee and slide it over your head. You still hadn’t worn it in front of Jungkook. You finish off with french tucking the shirt, sliding on sandals and wearing a simple gold necklace with your first initial on it-you didn’t want to be too fancy.

You make yourself a cup of tea to pass time waiting for Jungkook to arrive. Halfway through drinking it, there’s a knock on the door. You hastily place your mug on the coffee table, grab your bag, and open the door to find Jungkook leaning against the doorframe.

He lights up upon seeing you, his doe eyes widening when he notices your outfit. “You’re finally wearing it! I thought I was gonna have to bribe you or something,” he smiles.

“Let’s go, dork,” you reply, shutting your door behind you and making sure it’s locked.

Jungkook leads you outside to his car, opening the door for you. “After you, m’lady.” You roll your eyes, but not without laughing at his antics. He slides into the driver’s side and starts the car. “Off we go!”

The car ride is comfortably silent-probably because it’s still early in the morning, neither of you are completely coherent yet. The hum of the road beneath the car combined with the radio playing in the background puts you at ease. You can swear you keep seeing Jungkook look at you from your peripheral vision, but maybe you’re imagining things. You settle for looking out the window at the passing scenery, which honestly is beautiful-you should get out of the city more.

After about 10 minutes, you glance over to the driver’s side, only to make complete eye contact with Jungkook. “Kook, why do you keep looking at me?” His eyes widen, and now you know you weren’t imagining things earlier.

“Oh, uh...I-I’m just glad you decided to come. Yeah. And um, you look really good in my shirt.” You can see his ears reddening as he says this, and all of a sudden, you’re looking at anywhere but him.

There’s an awkward pause for a few moments, and then suddenly that molten lava feeling from a few weeks ago at the concert is back. You whip your head back towards Jungkook so fast, you think you might injure your neck. He has reached his hand across the console to where yours sits on your thigh, and as you watch, he intertwines your fingers with his. It feels like an out-of-body experience, where you’re watching yourself from above. Is this really happening? You glance up at Jungkook’s face with wild eyes, and he meets you with a steady smile. Not only is the molten lava feeling back, but it’s brought along the storm in the ocean feeling as well. Only this time, Jungkook is there to be the lighthouse that leads you back home.

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

The rest of the drive is peaceful. Jungkook continues to hold your hand the rest of the way to the beach, shooting you smiles every time you look over at him. You’re so mesmerized, you don’t even realize that you’ve parked until he lets go.

He immediately rushes over to open your door after getting out of the car, and then proceeds to pop the trunk open and grabs a cooler and a picnic basket.

“Kook, what is all this?” your eyes widen in surprise.

“Please, like I was going to take you to the beach and not pack a picnic. We have to eat, don’t we? I got those weird sparkling waters you like too.”

Your response is to grab the picnic basket out of his hand and immediately intertwine your fingers again with his free hand. Jungkook looks like his face might split in half with how big his smile is.

“You like it?” he asks with a hint of uncertainty.

“I love it.”

The two of you walk hand in hand down the beach quite a ways before you find what Jungkook deems the ‘perfect spot’. “And what exactly makes it perfect?” you peer up at him.

“Easy-one, we’re snagging the last free shaded spot,” he points at the umbrella stuck in the sand, “and two-it’s far enough away from other people that I can work on songs without a ton of noise distracting me.”

“Are you sure I won’t distract you?” you frown slightly, worried that he won’t get any work done.

“You’re never a distraction, you’re an inspiration.” He winks conspiratorially at you, and chuckles at the flustered look on your face. He sets the cooler down under the umbrella and looks over at you. “There’s a blanket in the picnic basket, can you get it out? As much as I love the beach, I don’t really want to find sand in my shorts for the next month.”

You set the basket down next to the cooler, open the lid, and pull out a bright blue blanket. Jungkook takes one side, you take the other, and you unfold it and place it lightly on the sand. He immediately plops down on one side of the blanket and reaches his hand up toward you, motioning for you to take hold. As soon as you do, he yanks a little too hard, and you careen sideways onto the blanket and into his side. “Well, that’s one way to sit down I guess,” you laugh at his appalled face.

“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to pull that hard…” his brow furrows in worry.

“I’m good, weirdo. Great, even.” You reach into the cooler, pull out a sparkling water (key lime, your favorite), and pull the book you always keep in your bag out. You lay out on the blanket, propped up on your elbows, and begin to read. Jungkook lays down beside you in a similar position, pulling a small notebook out of his back pocket and starts scribbling.

You sit in this position for a couple of hours, silently working, occasionally catching each others’ eyes and smiling when you do. Suddenly there’s a loud rumbling beside you. You laugh. “Hungry, Kook?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” he laughs, sits up and reaches over to pull the picnic basket closer to the two of you.

“What’s on the menu?” you peer over as he starts to pull plastic containers out.

“Gimbap. Simple, easy, and delicious.” He hands you one of the containers as he pulls out a second for himself.

“Did you make this yourself?” you ask, mouth half-full. He nods. “Delicious,” you concede through your mouthful. He grins.

“Maybe I could actually cook for you sometime. Without burning my hand on cookies, that is.”

“I’d like that,” you shyly respond, eyes firmly locked on the plastic container of gimbap in your lap.

“It’s a date, then.” Your eyes shoot up to meet his, and you can see dimples forming alongside his smile. You can’t help but smile back.

After eating, the two of you go back to your previous positions-you reading, him working on song lyrics in his notebook. This time, though, after about 30 minutes you start to get restless. Looking over at Jungkook, you notice he keeps shoving his hair behind his ears as it falls in his face while he’s writing. You rummage through your bag for a hair tie, and scoot over closer to him. He raises an eyebrow in curiosity at you, and you just lean over and gently start pulling his hair back for him into a half bun that matches the way his hair looked the night you first met.

“Better?” you ask quietly, running your fingers absentmindedly through the hair at the nape of his neck that’s too short for the bun. He looks up at you, awestruck.

“Everything is better with you,” he whispers. You’re not sure if he knows he’s said this out loud. He suddenly sits up on the blanket, flipping through the pages of his notebook he’s been working in. He stops about halfway through. “Can you look over these lyrics? I’m not sure they’re quite right, I need a second opinion.”

You look down at the page and see lyrics scribbled in Jungkook’s messy handwriting.

“I wish you were right here, right now”

“This mad, mad love makes you come running”

“See your face, hear my voice in the dark”

Different versions of these lyrics are scattered across the page, certain words changed, scribbled out, and moved around within phrases. As your eyes scan the page, they land on one final line etched out on the bottom of the page. No scribbles, no changes-it simply reads:

“I wish you knew that I’ll never forget you as long as I live.”

“This is really good, Kook! It’s so much different than the music the band’s done before, how’d you come up with this?” You’re genuinely curious, this almost seems more like a ballad compared to the band’s usual upbeat tunes.

Jungkook looks at you warmly. “I’ve had new inspiration lately, that’s all.” You suddenly notice that he’s way closer to you than he was when you started looking over his notes...he’s sitting directly in front of you now.

You feel frozen as you see him stealing glances at your lips while his face inches closer. Is he going to kiss you? He’s going to kiss you. Oh my gosh, JUNGKOOK IS GOING TO KISS YOU.

As his lips meet your own, the molten lava turns into an erupting volcano. You feel hot and tingly all over, and Jungkook is assaulting your senses in every way possible. You can smell his cologne, feel the softness of his lips, taste his mint chapstick, hear the satisfied hum that gets caught in his throat as your lips collide. Even though your eyes are closed, the vision of Jungkook leaning in to kiss you is seared into the backs of your eyelids.

The kiss is over far sooner than you’d like. As Jungkook retreats, he doesn’t go far, instead leaning his forehead against yours, gazing at you longingly. The stars in his eyes have become a full blown galaxy, and you can’t look away. Still recovering from the kiss, Jungkook breathily laughs.

“You make me want to write all the love songs in the world.”

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

Margot is tugging insistently on your arm. “Hello? HELLO? Is there anyone in there?” she taps the side of your head. When you don’t respond, she grabs you by both shoulders and gives you a shake.

The room comes back into focus and you look over at your best friend with eyes still lightly glazed over. “Huh?”

“I said, it’s intermission...are you enjoying the show? You certainly seemed distracted by Jungkook-I saw him smile at you,” she grins. “Jin made eye contact with me a couple of times, he even winked!” she gushes, continuing to talk about how hot she thinks he is.

Your stomach feels like it’s dropped completely out of your body, and your throat has gone dry.

“Hey...you okay?” Margot notices that you still seem slightly out of it.

“Yeah, yeah...I just...need another drink, that’s all,” you manage to choke out, turning on your heel and heading straight to the bar. While the bartender works on your drink, you run through everything in your head. The texts...the dinner at the boys’ apartment...the beach. The kiss. None of it was real, was it? What was wrong with you?

You take the drink that’s slid across to you and head outside to a side alley beside the bar. No one’s there, everyone has gone to the bathroom or to refill their drinks while waiting on the band to return. You let out a deep sigh, leaning against the brick wall and running your hands through your hair, making it even frizzier than when the night started. At least it isn’t raining anymore, you think to yourself.

You return to the question Margot had asked you-are you okay? You’re not sure. You’d apparently made eye contact with Jungkook, a man you had never spoken to, and imagined a whole entire relationship with him in the span of half the band’s setlist. Are you that desperate for a man? Apparently. You let out a deep sigh, replaying the scenarios you had created in your head. Once your brain reaches the kiss again, you find yourself getting teary-eyed at how sweet Jungkook had been...in your head. You feel a tear escape, and you quickly swipe it away.

Taking a steadying breath, you push yourself off the wall and move towards the door to head back into the bar. As you reach for the handle, the door swings open and hits you in the shoulder, turning you slightly to the side and spilling your drink on your shirt and the cobblestones of the alley.

“...again?!” you mutter, looking down at your ruined shirt.

“Um...are you okay? I can go get you a new shirt to change into-wait here!” you hear a male’s voice, but as you look up, the bar door is already closing again as he’s gone inside.

A minute later, the door is swinging open again to reveal none other than Jungkook-hair in a half bun, eyeliner smudged, and in a white undershirt and ripped jeans. Just like in your imagination.

He reaches out to you with a black t-shirt in his hand. “Yoongi’s pissed because these aren’t even ready to be sold, but whatever. Just think of it as an exclusive sneak peek or something,” he parrots your imagined scenario you had played in your head moments ago.

“Thanks,” you say as you take the shirt, unfolding it to see the familiar graffiti design.

“It’s the least I could do for a pretty girl whose Eagles tee I ruined, don’t worry about it. Yoongi will get over it.” Jungkook smiles at you the same way he did during the first half of the show. One thing your brain got right are the stars in his eyes sparkling at you, which makes you smile back at him.

“Hey, I need to get back to make sure we’re ready for the second half of the show, but it was nice to meet you. You should hang back after the show-Jin thinks your friend is cute, and he was talking about inviting her to come grab food with us when we’re done. Yoongi can’t come and I don’t want to be a third wheel. Come hang out with us and save me from dying of awkwardness?” he looks at you shyly, his rock star persona melting away completely.

“I’ll think about it,” you tease, turning away and heading back into The Dynasty. Jungkook is left wide eyed in your wake, smiling as he turns to head towards the backstage door.

You meet up with Margot again after changing into your new shirt. The crowd has started to gather in anticipation of the second half of the show. “Hey Mar, let’s move all the way up,” you motion at the space in front of the stage.

“Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?” Margot gapes at you in disbelief, but follows your lead as you weave through the crowd to get to front stage center. You shrug goodnaturedly and just smile as an answer.

A moment later, Jin, Yoongi and Jungkook come from backstage to get in place for the second half of their set. You can see Jungkook scanning the crowd, brows slightly furrowed. You give a small wave, which catches his attention, and his nose scrunches in a smile as he sends an enthusiastic wave back. ‘I like your shirt’ he mouths at you as he settles behind his drum kit, winking as he does so. You can feel the heat creeping onto your cheeks as a bar employee strides across the stage to the mic and the crowd starts cheering.

“Give it up again for Gold Rush!”

#jungkook x reader #jk x reader #jk x y/n #jungkook x y/n #jin x oc #seokjin x oc #bts fluff #bts angst #bts one shot #bts rock band au #jungkook oneshot

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sly-merlin · 3 years

Text

KILLING ME - 12 |n.y

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre : angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au.

warnings of this chapter : mentions of blood and brutality. For future chapters, major character death(s).

words :

summary : “life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”

“ curiousity got the cat hitched”

K.M masterlist

A/n : this was supposed to be a longer chapter. The Tumblr was bring problematic since three days. This is not how the chapter was supposed to end but i couldn't post anything longer than this so i had to make changes to end it on a surprise tone like other chapters. I hope you still enjoy it.

Was he asking for too much?

His unsteady hand rose and fell, internal monologue stopping him from knocking on the door. Johnny wasn't sure how he even ended up outside taeyong's door. One second he was fighting with his thoughts and the next second he found himself jumping out of his car, almost ready to confront the person behind the door.

He took a deep breath and was about to drum the wood when the door opened from inside, taeyong's sleepy figure greeting him instantly.

"John. Why are you here so late? Do you need something?" from red pressed strikes on taeyong’s face, anyone would have guessed that he had been sleeping.

“Johnny! I’m talking to you.” he waved his hand in front of johnny’s distracted eyes.

“Huh”

“Do you want something?”

“y/n.”

Your life was back on the wagon. Not truly but with a few exceptions here and there, it certainly felt like the old days. You were in chois on weekdays and took tuitions on the weekends. You met your friends while visiting the library and everything felt quite normal. Even with a few oddities, that being the five day training sessions with Jungwoo, some new people in your life, a residence that you felt happy coming back to, absence of someone that you’d never grown a liking for, everything was smooth. Just like before. The only thing you missed was some time. Time for yourself. Though you lived alone, which was a luxury nearing its end, you barely got a few minutes alone with your mind and that was something you craved more than the drink shoved in your hand at the moment.

You loved your friends, without any doubt, but they lived with the bad habit of disregarding your feelings, feelings that said you would be anywhere but the restaurant you were sitting in.

“y/n is going into hibernation again.” minjun’s voice broke your trance.

“What did you say?" You challenged him but he cowered in his seat and turned his focus on the soggy french fries instead. When he silenced, yugyeom spoke up,

“Yo y/n. Don’t scare the child. Just drink away your sorrows. The wine is quite expensive here. If you are making me pay then at least make it worth it."

Suddenly, Jungkook's loud snorting caught everyone's attention as they all quietened, waiting for him to reveal the reasons for his action. Swirling his burgundy glass, he chugged the last bit of the drink before leaning backwards in his chair, relaxing himself.

"Now what's the drama with You" Yeong grumbled, clearly intoxicated.

"She's already hammered" minjun giggled.

"When are you going to invite us to your house y/n?" Jungkook chimed in, a smirk plastered on his blushed face.

"Oh yes. Ms. Lawyer no more l-lives i-in the d-dorms." Yeong hiccupped, losing the grip on the bottle of soju. Yugyeom chuckled at her antics before snatching the bottle away to avoid any fuss.

"I also meant to ask you but you are never available for more than an hour or so. Are you doing alright" gyeom shifted his chair towards you while keeping a hand on his girlfriend's back.

You didn't know how to reply or what to trump up so they'd stop pestering you. However, you had no other choice than to continue with the streak you had started a few months ago.

"Of course i want to have you there but my roommate is very, how to explain, very bitchy. He got this corporate job and he-he works from home so I'm supposed to pretend like I do not exist and keep quiet. That includes no outsiders as well. It's gonna be like this for a few months i guess"

You mumbled the last part.

You averted your eyes but didn't mean you could've escaped their intense judgemental gaze. You repeated the whole lie that you recited to arrange it in the box of deceit that you were filling since the commencement of these stories. Forgetting any of these would mean shattering their trust. And that was exactly what you were supposed to protect.

Once reiterated, you gathered how foolish the sentence was. Had it been said to you, there wasn't a chance of putting your belief in it. But your company was drunk enough to believe it; two of them were enough to carry the whole table.

"Wow. How horrible of him. We should take y/n with us yugy. She'd be happy and she can invite anyone." Yeong low-key let out a little drunk growl to press her point.

Yugyeom cooed at her before replying,

"And where will you live? Our apartment has only two rooms and both are occupied. Where do you plan to settle down instead?"

His question made her think harder than she ever had in life as she picked at her jutted out lower lip.

"Laundry room. You and me, will live in the laundry room because y/n needs a nice home."

"I already have a nice home yeongie." You took the opportunity, got up and reached out to pinch her cheeks, "but you won't know unless you are sober. Take her home, yugy. I'm also sleepy so I'll get going. See you on Tuesday."

" It's already 11. Let me drop you home." Jungkook suggested, startling you.

"No It-

"Yeah you drop her. I'll take Yeong and minjun home but help me in carrying their asses to the car please." Yugyeom pleaded. He left the bills on the table and took Yeong in his arms. You expected jungkook to do the same but he passed minjun your shoulders instead,

"Wait for me outside. I have to call someone first." and he walked away, his lover grinning on your shoulder like it was the funniest thing in the world but you were fine as long as their drunken state saved you from some heavy confrontation. The only person left was jungkook and you had the perfect idea to dodge him as well.

"So the same place or are you staying in the dorms this weekend?" He asked, driving out of the busy street.

"Just drop me at the nearest bus station. I'll ta-

"Nakamoto residence or the dorms y/n" you almost choked on the air as the word left his lips. Taking a bus home had seemed like the perfect plan but you had overvalued your common sense. Again.

"What are you talking about?" With hesitation evident in your voice, you muttered.

"Do you really think you'd go to a random house in front of me that I know nothing about and you'd be left alone without questions. I was there until the door was opened by someone. You really thought I'd have left you with a stranger. But i knew something was fishy when the receptionist told me that it's a home sweet home of Mr and Mrs nakamoto. Now spill before I get yugyeom to ask in his own way." He shifted the gears in frustration, your relaxed persona bothering him to no end. Getting jungkook wokred up wasn't a grunt work. He was like a matchstick, always ready to be ignited by any possible frictional surface.

"It's not what you are thin-

"Don't lie please," he started, words dangerously polite, "If he's your boyfriend then there's no need to hide y/n. We would always be there to support you. When, how, why, i don't want you to feel pressured to answer me. Just because you go around with no commitment tag doesn't mean we'd judge you if you ever got in a relationship. We love you. Make us part of your life like we do. Can't we just expect that much."

You gulped at how disappointed he sounded. He was right. You needed to include them in your life adventures but how were you supposed to explain him the riots you were dealing with. How were you supposed to spill everything without him getting his sword out. That would only lead to more troubles than you had the power to deal with. Trouble for you, him and for everyone who'd be passed that secrecy.

So you begged, for some more time until you'd be more than comfortable to let all of them into your present life.

Like every other word, this was also a lie that, in the first place, you never chose to proceed with.

He might have give in to you, but you knew eventually you'd have to muster up the courage to answer him and that day would decide another turn of your future.

And you would make sure, inter alia, to shift the wheels in a more likeable direction.

“Use your fists!”

Jungwoo’s grip was strong. His one arm was holding your waist and the other was around your neck. It was painful but you knew he wasn’t going to let go easily this time. This was the third consecutive scuffle or demo fight with him within the span of the last forty five minutes and having lost the last two, awfully at that, expectation of some mercy was not very demanding on your part. But only if he would grant that! You heard his chuckle as you wriggled in his hold. He was clearly having a lot more fun than you were. There was no way you could’ve applied renjun and hyuck’s advice but you still tried to follow their vague instructions.

“Bit his arm and turn.”

“No, don’t. Turn around and hit his torso with your knees.”

Bit him?

Halting your movements, a low grunt left your lips as you lowered your body and pressed your teeth on his flesh. He screeched and immediately retracted his arm. Taking advantage of his loosened grip on your waist, you whirled around and raised your knee to strike at his upper body. In an instant, your hands fell on your knees and you inhaled a harsh breath, regaining your strength. Jungwoo, on the other hand, was curled up on the floor like a baby. You wanted to laugh at him but the more astonishing thing was the lack of any noise from your cheerleaders. Right from the start, they were rooting for you like you were earning them some hard cash and now that you had done exactly what they had wanted, they were silent.

“Wha-

you opened your mouth to speak but their lack of attention held you back. Their eyes were fixed at Jungwoo,who still laid where he had landed.

“What did you do?” renjun shrieked.

“Exactly what you told me to!” you replied with heavy breathing.

“We said torso!”

“Yes and i hi-

Mechanically your hand slapped your face as you noticed the position of jungwoo’s hands. You had, mistakenly, kicked him in the groin which only meant more trouble for you.

“Save me.” you mouthed to hyuck and renjun while approaching jungwoo.

“Sorry teacher.” you mumbled.

He remained quiet for a few seconds and didn’t make any movement. When he did, you took a few steps back, afraid of his wrath. Palms down on the mat, he sat up and with painfully quiet voice spoke up,

“Looks like you won. Good j-job. I think i need to visit the medical room. You can go and celebrate.”

“Does it pain too much” pointing to his crotch and averting your eyes, you asked.

“No. not at all but i might need to adopt your kids someday. You know if i can’t make my own.”

“Sorry” you cried.

“Dismissed.” his civil tone, probably due to the ache, glued you in the position.

When you didn't move, donghyuck came, took you by your arm and guided you for the door.

"He's just being dramatic. Just chill. Another hit and he'd be good to go." He giggled and was soon joined by renjun as well, who was now crouching down in front of jungwoo.

"You sure?"

"If he doesn't then you can always give him your baby. Ofcourse after asking your husband." Only after he rambled, he realised what he had actually said. His face screamed surprise. To save him from spiralling into deep shame, you eased him by cutting off his apology,

"Ew hyuck. Give him one of yours if you want. Don't come for mine!" And you exited the door.

You were halfway through the basement when you realised the lack of your device. Running back, you were about to shout when you overheard their gossip.

"No, I'm telling you she meant to injure me so i won't teach her anymore or this might be the revenge of all the weapon training. Her knee is stronger than jeno's punch. Don't laugh at me you shits."

Jungwoo was whining.

"Haha. Yeah ok. But i told you renjun, she's physically stronger than her. Kind of totally opposite." Hyuck's voice quietened at the end but before he could speak further, you interrupted,

"Like who hyuck?"

Their faces went blank at your question and the reason of sudden heaviness in the air was beyond your contemplation.

"You don't want to answer? Fine. Maybe it's not my place to question." You simply stated before circling the mat to pick up your phone from the chair.

"No. It's not li-

"It's fine hyuck. Chill." You shrugged and walked away, deciding against pestering them for information that they clearly felt too uncomfortable to share.

"You need a fucking lock on your bloody mouth." was the last thing you heard before they were out of your hearing.

What was the need to ask something when you knew you won't ever get an answer out of them. Everyone was beyond friendly with you but still, there were some borders that nobody dared to cross. Maybe the mention of that woman was one of them. Fear of some unknown ghost of embarrassment was swallowing you whole when you heard grunts. Loud ones. You were still in the basement, the scuffle center being at the far end. The stairs were in front of you. The snarls and growls were coming from the other end of the basement. The election wasn't hard and you didn't want to give in to your curiosity but you did. Your feet, not cooperating with the voice in the back of your head that told you to turn away, took you ahead in the direction of the noise. Though the residence consisted of only one plot but the basement covered two. Unknown to everyone, the house next to B.N was also their property and it was only utilised for the underground space. Hence the never ending lane and the countless closed metal doors.

The echo got louder with each step you took. It’s been more than a month since you were visiting the basement but those noises had never crossed through you until today. The end doors were forbidden for you, according to what you were told but now that you were exposed to it, there was no chance of ignoring. No prudent person would ever overlook such a thing. That was the justification you were repeating as you took baby steps.

All the doors were closed except one at the very far end. You thought about peaking inside then halted as if your conscious called you. The whimpers also stopped for a minute or so but your heart skipped a few beats when a collision following with painful shriek reverberated in the empty space. The door, slightly ajar, was just a few strides away but you were too startled to even back away from your position. Same pattern of hit and shouts continued again. Unaware of the happenings, you stood there as If you were waiting for someone to separate you from the concrete beneath your feet.

Adding to your distress, the metal door opened abruptly and you realised, you were again at a place where you weren't meant to be.

"What are you doing here?" Jaehyun's growl broke you out of the unconscious state you had fell into. Mechanically, you eyes roamed across him to notice a body lying on the table inside the room, strained cries escaping his lips. The limp body was enough to put two and two together to conclude that he was being tortured. He was a victim of jaehyun's wrath.

"I asked what ar-

"Y/N!" he picked up his hand to touch your shoulders but you distanced yourself when you noticed the stains covering his clothing and hands, the blood red prominently visible even under the low light.

His gaze caught yours in time and his eyes softened noticing the fear in your body.

Very slowly, he reached out for you but immediately stopped, taking a note of your quivering lip.

"Hey. It-its not blood. I ca-can explai- Y/N!"

The yells of your name covered the whole arena as you rushed away, leaving a dazed jaehyun behind.

"Who was it jae?"

Jaehyun saw your trembling figure diminishing while you ran away from him as if you were disgusted by him. Not that he expected any other reaction, some good time has passed since someone innocent had came across their work. To say the least, it was never pleasant to have someone witness their harsh manners.

"JAE!"

"Y/n. She saw the body and also the blood."

He mumbled to ten whose visage, upon hearing, instantly mirrored jaehyun's.

"What about him?" Ten pointed to the man, "he's not speaking shit"

"Finish him off if you want. I need to handle something else now"

You raced as fast as you could have. You had never thought of yourself as a weak person but the sight was gruesome to just disregard and walk off. With shaking legs, you finally made it upstairs but the ringing, only became more earsplitting. Your hand harshly rubbed at your chest as you tried to defuse the tension bubbling in your whole body. After what felt like minutes, you covered your ears as if it would stop the ringing. It certainly did not but surprisingly it was muffled. You removed your hands and the blaring returned again. But this time, you laboured yourself to look into your surroundings. You saw chenle, jisung, jaemin running back and forth from the kitchen while doyoung seemed to be scolding jeno for something. Few others were also there, cleaning the couches and spraying some fragrance in the air. Everyone seemed to be their own turmoil, origin was which was yet to be known.

That's when it hit you. Maybe your ears weren't booming due to fright.

"Chenle"you screamed at the passing boy, "do you hear this sound?" You pointed your fingers in the air to exaggerate your point. He merely nodded before he went past you and the very next second the noise was reduced to mere buzzing. You inhaled sharply to regulate your heartbeat but failed due to the ruckus that enclosed you. Suddenly jaemin emerged,

"Why are you so disheveled? Go and change from these workout clothes. Uncle is outside. Didn't you hear the alarm." Only Half of his words entered your head and before you could come to your senses, you were interrupted again.

"Y/n my girl!" Whipping your head, you saw a familiar figure entering the threshold.

An old man that you surely had seen somewhere.

His voice was a lot stronger than his aged body which he was dragging along with the help of a walking stick.

Jaemin nudged you to greet him and you complied as soon as could have in your current state. Only when you got closer, you realised he was the same man you had met in the office celebration. You haven't seen him since then but he looked significantly weaker than before. Even with dark circles present, his face still was still shining with the smile he wore as he staggered inside.

"How's life treating you my kid" he asked, patting the empty space on the couch. You took the seat and replied in a small voice,

"I'm good. Everything is nice."

"Why am I smelling Jasmines this late in the evening?" He sniffed the air and galred at doyoung, " Do you take me for a fool? One thing! Cleaning. that is the only thing i ask of you. There are- how many of you are present since the morning. Answer me doyoung."

The man barked and doyoung muttered a sheepish apology, his head dropping with shame.

"Each one of you is nonsense. If you'd just clean up your stink once in a while, you'd save your money on the thousands of spray bottles you buy every month. But you thick heads only know how to shoot and punch. Now get me a glass of water before i die of this fake flowery smell"

He shouted like he owned the place and Maybe he did. Your mind and heart were not aligned up to comprehend the simple scenario that took place before you, the dizziness coming and going with intervals.

Then you were called again.

Looking at your right, your saw jaehyun standing, his face ridden of any colour.

You noticed his new shirt. There was no blood on it. His hands were also cleaned and you were stunned at how quickly your eyes were running on his body to find any trace of what you saw in the basement a few minutes ago.

"y/n, i need to talk to you"

For the first time, jaehyun's words were directed towards you without any poison in them.

You still didn't wish to face him so you moved yourself to face the old man.

"Y/n ple-

"Now you don't even greet your own father jung jaehyun."

He spoke with a steadier and louder voice that felt like it was only meant for jaehyun. The contrast in his tone was striking.

He was jaehyun's father.

"Sorry dad. I have something imp-

"I called you in the morning to inform yuta and taeil and yet i do not see anyone here. Do i need to die for you to respect me!"

You couldn't believe your ears when jaehyun answered in shuddering tone.

"Yu-yuta is not here."

He sounded like a child responding to his teacher, scared of some evaluation.

"Then call him."

"I mean he's away on business dad."

"Civil?"

It was like hearing Morse code.

"No."

"You sent him on a target place?"

"No. He's in Nice to collect information."

"Wow. Can you please clap your back for breaking the only sacred rule this family lives by?"

The silence in the extremely large living room was suffocating. This time, except you, everyone else was scared. And it still wasn't of any help.

"How dare you send a family man away on anything remotely dangerous. I thought you all were careful after taeil's incident but no. Nobody cares enough t-

Before he could complete, shaky coughs engulfed his body. Somehow, jaehyun grabbed him the moment he was about to fall from the couch. Doyoung ran for the kitchen while xiaojun, who was always too swift in his movements, came to the living room with a medical box.

You weren't sure what was happening with him or why he was being treated like some high mighty force or why he was so adamant on bringing yuta back but you could only pray that his wish won't be granted.

You weren't cruel but you were sure he'd be able to survive without that piece of shit roaming around.

You couldn't lose the few weeks you had without him.

Taeyong hands clutched yours like his life depended on you.

"Please please please y/n. It's been over a month since he's gone. I never withdraw from a deal. But this is an emergency. Uncle doesn't know you both were forced. He is a soft and weak hearted man. We cannot afford to tell him anything like this and clearly this would be seen as a betrayal to him. You both are nothing like what he's told but he doesn't need to need. He's the only father figure we have. Please just this time. I promise I won't ask anything from you after this. You do not need to live with him. he'd be here until two months are over. Please."

You lifted your brow at his last sentence and liberated your hands from his, feeling his trembling fingers.

"I don't see the need to lie anymore, taeyong. You can tell him the truth and be over with it. If he has jaehyun as a son, he must be used to hearing blatant lies. This won't be the only one, I'm sure of that." Crossing your arms, you coldly said.

"I know you hate me but please y/n. You know how it is to lose the only family member you have. We have no one besides him. Never had anyone before him. The least we can do is keep him happy until it's too late. Please. Just this time."

Gobbling down each word, you merely nodded at him. If it weren't for his glossy eyes, you'd have threw up on him right after the first pleading but you weren't heartless like him. He was right. You knew how it felt to lose your loved ones, a fate you would never wish upon anyone. Not even the person you despised the most.

"Thank you. I owe you this one kiddo." He hugged you and you pushed him away.

"Let me call him."

"Yuta!"

"Hmm"

"You need to come back immediately "

Taeyong spoke with urgency.

"Nope. I still have Three weeks and two days left." You heard his non-chalant words through the speaker.

"Yuta it's abou-

"Sorry I'm busy with my french girls. Call you later and please forget to take care of yourself."

And he hung up.

A smirk formed on your face watching the grim expressions of taeyong.

"Good luck convincing him and while you are going to explain him the difference between the French girls and the French monkeys he has mistaken as women, why don't you explain me what exactly jaehyun does in that other end of the basement. I love some good stories, taeyong. So let's hear how good of a storyteller are you!"

taglist :: @kpop-choco @moon-yuta @kawaiiayasan @btm-taeyong @exfolitae @lanadreamie @cheersskznct @hyuckiesgf @theworld-accordingtocasey @yiyi4657 @sorrywonwoo @sillywinnergladiator @minejungwoo @leesalts @mal-nakamoto23 @ro2424 @itlittlefangirl @nctzens-world @bl--ankhaeji @simplybree @ncttboo @jeaneteflo @nuoyii @/bralessmermaid

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thomaslightwoodenthusiast · 3 years

Text

hello everyone!

here is part 2, as promised! also, @liasan-stuff asked to be tagged so here you go! if you ever want to be tagged in any future writing i do, just ask! i’ve never made a taglist, but if that’s something that you guys would like i have no problem with doing one- as long as you let me know you want to be on it!

that being said, happy reading!

sarahxo

➰➰➰➰

Cordelia entered the large room in the Institute that Christopher had chosen to use. She didn’t know why it was so big; this event was only the few of them having some fun together. But it boded well for her plan, considering there was a piano towards the top end.

“Cordelia! Those clothes...well they are certainly a different look,” said Matthew, with a tone of either admiration or surprise; she was not sure. She considered telling him they were Alastair’s but she did not want anyone to be suspicious of anything- should he show, it had to be a total shock. Christopher grinned at her, pleased that her arrival meant they could begin soon.

“Terribly good to see you, Cordelia! Now all that’s left is for Lucie to appear.”

Cordelia was puzzled. “Is she not here?”

Christopher gestured to James. “She will be here, but James knows what she’s doing right now. Unfortunately I cannot quite recall, though I myself have been busy.”

“Preparing your talent?”

“Yes, actually! If you remember, a few months ago I mentioned that I was in the process of developing a new way to send messages via fire. Well, with some extra help I have been able to finalise it! I have not told the others; which is why I am debuting it tonight!”

Cordelia watched Kit’s lilac purple eyes light up through his round spectacles as he spoke. Such an odd eye colour; but so striking. “What extra help did you receive?”

Christopher’s eyes lost their sparkle for a fleeting moment as he looked down. “I do not want to say. James and Matthew do not like who helped me.”

Cordelia wondered if it was Alastair; after all, Kit seemed to get on with him. Though James had grown more tolerant towards him recently. “If you do not wish to say, I will respect that.”

He took a breath. “No, it is alright. I trust you won’t say. It was Grace. She and I spoke once on the subject of science; one day when I was working she had turned up through the window of the laboratory. I cannot recall why or what she was actually doing, but she asked me about what I was doing and when I told her she liked it! She was actually the one who discovered the purpose of that odd stele. I thought I would ask her if she would like to help me with a project and- voilà!” Kit finished, brandishing a piece of paper from his jacket. Cordelia couldn’t decide whether to be shocked, or smile at how sweet it was. If this had been a month or two earlier, her reaction would be different- but after everything with Grace being sorted, she felt better. She did notice one thing, though.

“Kit, that’s only paper.”

“Yes, well, that is what your eyes want you to think. But when pen is set to paper, you will see the magic!”

Cordelia laughed as she walked away and over to James. When he was talking about Grace, his eyes regained their sparkle. He perked up. She almost rolled her eyes internally; Goodness, someone else in love with Grace? But she felt happier about this time. Maybe because the person in love with her was not her husband.

“Hello, Mrs. Herondale,” James said, bowing to her in mockery. “Or do you prefer- what is it again?”

“It’s Miscellaneous Lover number 3 to you.”

James cocked an eyebrow. “Three? Does he have a name?”

“No,” Cordelia continued, “but I believe the Beautiful Cordelia has to kill him. That happens to be the scene we are acting out actually. Kit sent me here because he says you know where Lucie is?”

James made a face not lacking affection. “She’s been with Anna all day. She told her about our little show and Anna immediately took it upon herself to not only take Lucie dress shopping, but to help practise her lines with her because you couldn’t.”

“Oh goodness. Then we can expect the dress to be-“

“A whirlwind of beauty and extravagance?” a voice called. It was Lucie. She had just burst through the doors, Anna following closely behind with a look of pride on her face. Lucie headed towards Cordelia.

“What do you think? Anna had it tailored for me earlier today. It is incredibly accurate to the one you were wearing in the scene!”

“Is that so?” Cordelia smiled inwardly. She adored Lucie’s enthusiasm. Usually, Jesse would be by her side, but he went out with his sister often and tonight was one of their nights.

“This is everyone, isn’t it?” Thomas asked. This was the first time he’d spoken since saying hello to Cordelia. He’d been quite quiet; absentmindedly running his hand over his left forearm, where the tattoo was. Cordelia held back a grin as she put the pieces together. He always seemed to do that when he was stressed or worried- albeit rare he felt that way. But it had been Alastair who had convinced him to show them the tattoo, and knowing what she did now she thought it was endearing that he thought of her brother when he was stressed.

“Unfortunately, yours truly can’t stay. I have something important to attend,” Anna said, gesturing dismissively as if to say she wouldn’t answer any questions.

Christopher frowned. “I did want you here,” he muttered, seeming hurt.

“Oh don’t worry your sweet little face, my brother,” Anna replied, ruffling Kit’s hair. “I have already decided on my replacement.”

“Who?” James queried. Anna left without a word, smirking. After a few seconds, Will sauntered in looking extremely pleased with himself. James and Lucie promptly buried their faces in their hands; he had clearly had a drink or two with Tessa- who, being smart, had not came with him.

“I am to be your judge!” he declared. “Cordelia wins!”

Lucie stared. “She’s with me and it hasn’t even started yet.”

“I do not care. You two will probably be the best anyways; I have little faith in these four. Except you, Christopher. As long as you don’t blow anything up, of course.”

Will winked at Cordelia. The group decided among themselves who would go first; Lucie and Cordelia said they would. James and Matthew were to be next, doing God knows what, leaving Christopher and Thomas.

“I’d like to go last, if that’s alright. Kit, if you want to go last I don’t mind-“

“Nonsense, Thomas! Go last if you wish. I am eager to show you all my proudest project yet!”

Cordelia was feeling bold. She knew no one else would understand why, but she asked Thomas why he wanted to go last.

“Let’s just say...I don’t believe any of you are aware of this talent and I do feel quite nervous.”

Matthew pretended to be offended. “My goodness! What else haven’t you told us? There’s already a secret talent. Give us a hint, please?”

Thomas’s eyes widened briefly as Matthew inquired about what else hadn’t been told to them- not enough for Matthew to notice, Cordelia observed.

“I don’t believe I can without giving it away. It is not something I’ve heard or seen any of you doing though.”

“Can we stop discussing Thomas and his secrets and start letting Cordelia and I perform, please?” Lucie demanded, mouthing sorry to him.

“Ooh, let’s,” Will exclaimed, clapping his hands together excitedly as his daughter and daughter-in-law took the...well, the middle of the hall.

➰➰➰➰

hey guys! so i think i only need to do one more part. i wasn’t sure if i would, but i need to bc the last part is the thomastair heavy part!! i did mention having drunk charles coming in; that may be briefer than i had wanted because i don’t want to make this any more than three parts. mainly because i’m going to be totally back to school on tuesday and i’m going to be super busy with a LOT of testing, and i don’t want to add on to my work load lol. but yeah!! like i said the next part will really (hopefully) get into the thomastair! i have my plan for it ready and i’m going to start figuring it out soon. have fun and i hoped u liked this!

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kalimagik · 4 years

Text

Should’ve Said No

Sirius Black x Reader

Marauders Era

Based off the song “Should’ve Said No” by Taylor Swift

<3k

Warnings: Angst and mentions of cheating

A/N: I’m back with another song based fic because that’s one of the few places that I draw inspiration from. I had a three hour car ride, listened to this song on repeat a million times, so in short, this fic just wrote itself! If you enjoy it, like, reblog, comment, or follow (I think you get the gist so far!) It’s my first time writing for Sirius, so I hope you all like it! Happy Reading <3

I knew the risks that came with catching the eye of Hogwarts’ biggest playboy. I knew his reputation. I had stayed away for a decent amount of time, but the boy finally wore me down at the end of sixth year. He asked and asked. He said he was done with his play boy life. I said yes. Everyone was surprised I said yes. Hell, I was surprised that I said yes, but it was worth the risk. Sirius Black had my heart in his hands. He was careful with it too, almost delicate.

Then seventh year kicked in and so did the beginning of quidditch matches and parties. I did as much Common Room rotating for the parties as the next girl, but the one time, the one time I decided that school was more important, he wasn’t strong enough to not ruin everything. Let me go back for a minute.

Lily came up to me during lunch the other day, I think it was Tuesday or Wednesday, and sat with me at the Y/H table.

“Did you finish that Transfiguration homework Saturday?” she asked me casually, but seemed to have a little bit of a tremor in her voice.

“Yeah, Remus was a ton of help. Thank you for telling him that I needed him even though I didn’t want to ask. How was the party?” I asked, thinking nothing of it. It had been Gryffindor’s turn to host, but I wanted to get a good grade in my N.E.W.T. level transfiguration this year, so studying took precedent.

Lily grew quieter suddenly.

“That bad, huh?” I giggled, judging her reaction. “Where’s James?”

I was still so daft. So stupid to think that everything was normal. Lily’s boyfriend and my boyfriend were best friends. It brought us closer than ever and it made me happy. Sound began to fill the Great Hall as others came in for lunch.

“He’ll be along. I just wanted to talk to you,” Lily piped up again. “Are you almost done? Could we go to the loo to talk for a minute?”

“What is with you, Lil?” I was worried now. Lily was usually such a happy presence to be around, but that day, something was off. I gathered my things, following Lily to a bathroom a little ways from the Great Hall. What was she so upset over? I hoped she was alright. “Oh, look! There’s James and Sirius!”

I had started to call them over, but Lily quickly pulled me through the door of the bathroom.

“Seriously, Lily. What’s up? Did James do something? Should I warm up my wand?”

“He didn’t do anything, Y/N.” I just stared at her, mouth slightly opened. I was wracking my mind over what had potentially happened that had her acting this way

I realize now that I was so worried for her when she was just being protective over me.

She finally spoke. “I didn’t want to be the one to tell you this, but you deserve to know. He isn’t going to tell you, Y/N/N, but I like you and it isn’t fair.”

“What are you rambling on about?”

“Sirius cheated on you…” she finally blurted out. My whole body went numb. I didn’t even hear her say who it was with. I later found out it was Marlene. That was a whole other beast to deal with. We were never that close anyways, so it didn’t surprise me.

Like I said, I knew his reputation.

“Y/N/N? It was at the party. I don’t know if he was drunk or what. I wasn’t paying much attention. He begged me not to tell you and James even begged me to give him the chance to tell you. I did. It’s been nearly 5 days and he hadn’t and I couldn’t just watch him with you, acting normal. I’m sorry.”

I realized then that I hadn’t said anything yet. I stood there, staring at the sinks behind Lily. I didn’t even look at her. My gaze shifted to my face in the mirror. The color had drained from my face. I couldn’t even see any emotion in my features. I could only feel my heart shattering into a million pieces.

Then Lily asked those dreaded words. “Are you okay?” I looked at her, a blank stare still ensuing, “Oh, no. You’re mad at me. I am so sorry, really. I didn’t want to tell you all of this.”

Words finally found their way to my lips. “I’m not mad at you, Lily. I’m mad at him. I’m going back to my room. I may see you tomorrow. I don’t know.”

I bolted to the door and for the crowded halls. I didn’t want to be with anyone anymore. I heard Lily calling to me over the noise. “But, we still have classes today!”

I wasn’t going to classes. I was processing. Processing was allowed right? I just found out that my boyfriend, correction, my now ex-boyfriend, cheated on me. I would face him later, but for now, I needed time to myself.

With classes continuing, my room was completely empty. The moment the doors shut, the tears began to roll down my face. I scanned the contents next to my bed. There were those stupid flowers that Sirius had given me the previous Friday.

I stood in front of them on my night stand. I felt all the hurt and anger that had been numb explode. They burst. My hands acted on their own accord. I picked up the flowers in my hand. They were so delicate, but the anger flowed through my veins and instinct threw them against the wall. When the noise of the limp plants didn’t give me any satisfaction, I followed the flowers with the vase. The smashing sound of glass against the wall was all I needed to hear to know that I was broken inside.

I skipped my afternoon classes, falling into a heavy sleep, exhausted from the crying. It felt like a hippogriff had run me over. I got up to use the bathroom later and assess my running makeup and horrendous bed head. It was bad, but I didn’t care. I enchanted the door so that no one could come in. They’d only be able to enter when I gave permission. I just needed to be alone in this school that was now seeming all too small.

When I skipped dinner too, I knew someone was bound to come searching for me eventually. Only, I was expecting Lily or one of my roommates to knock on my door. For some reason, the idea of Sirius coming to talk to me never crossed my mind.

I heard someone attempt to push against the door as I curled up under my blankets. I felt like they would protect me from the world.

“Love? I know you’re in there,” Sirius called out to me from behind the door. “You skipped classes and dinner.”

His voice was so calm. Surely Lily told him that I knew the truth about his weekend. He should be a mess like I was right at that moment!

“Go away. I’m not feeling well,” I lied. I wasn’t ready to confront him then. I wasn’t ready to even look at him.

“Evans told me,” he sighed. I could hear his fingernails scratching against the wood. Another pause. “I know you know.”

“Then you know why I don’t really want to talk to you.” I couldn’t help but let the blunt words take the place of my gasping and sobbing. I’d rather him hear the harshness in my voice than any of the hurt.

“Y/N, darling. I will take it all back if you just give me one chance. It was a moment of weakness, love. With the party and the alcohol, it just happened. It meant nothing though.”

I had no response for him. I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction. 45 minutes may have passed. Sirius tried to speak to me a few more times. I even heard him trying to counter the charm I used to lock the door, but he couldn’t. He had no choice but to leave.

I endured the cooing and sympathies from my roommates, but I hated it. I hated feeling like this. I hated feeling hopeless. This wasn’t my fault. I was a victim, but I’m not weak.

I couldn’t sleep all night, so I silently moved around the room and placed all of Sirius’ things in a bag. His records of the muggle music he adored, the remnants of the flowers, even the pictures of the two of us. I didn’t want them.

I marched down to breakfast with the strong intent of telling him off in front of everyone. Everybody in this bloody school knew what had happened by now. I’m sure Marlene basked in the mess she caused and would tell anyone who wanted to hear about it. So, I wasn’t going to let our break-up be ruined by rumors. I’d let everyone witness it first-hand.

I combed my hair. Redid my make-up. This didn’t hide the fact that I had been crying all day and night, but I don’t care. I needed to do this.

So now, here I am, standing outside the Great Hall. Students from all the houses are eating their breakfasts and I’m holding this bulging bag.

I feel Lily Evans’ bright green eyes on me as I walk down the length of the Gryffindor table to where she was sitting with Sirius and the other Marauders. From the short glance towards her, I can’t tell if she is scared about what I am going to do or proud. I don’t really care at this point though. I am here on a mission.

“Pads,” Remus whispers as he is the first one to see me walking towards the group (aside from Lily).

I’m carrying this bag and just thinking to myself how strange it is to think the songs we used to sing, the smiles, the flowers, and everything is just gone. His dark, piercing eyes met my own. He doesn’t look like a mess. He looks perfect like he always does. This recognition just fires the anger that has been building up inside of me all morning.

“Y/N? You’re up! Excellent!” Sirius smiles at me. He reaches out to take the bag from me as if he’s helping. “I was thinking perhaps we could have a chat this morning before classes? We could go to the courtyard.”

I examine him. He seems different to me now. He was pretending like nothing was wrong while he was in front of his friends. I can read him. I know this.

“I don’t think so, Sirius. Those are your things.” I spit out at him, pointing to the bag now in his hands. Hoping that I am wearing a blank face, I watch his fall. I know he can tell what I’m feeling through my Y/E/C eyes. He always did say that they gave me away every time.

“I told you last night though. It didn’t mean anything.”

Scoffing, I can’t stop myself from shaking my head. “No, Sirius. Yesterday I found out about you and even now just looking at you feels absolutely wrong! I heard you last night. You say that you’d take it all back given one chance. It was a moment of weakness-” My arms were flailing as I began to yell. I’ve never been capable of keeping my voice down. I know I’m loud. “And you said yes!” The words bellow out of my throat and I feel like they echo. I don’t know. I’m mad. I’m not finished either.

Sirius looks at me as if he wants to speak, so I have to cut him off quickly.

“You don’t get to talk yet.”

The silence of the Great Hall was deafening. I know that everyone is watching us. Although, I am feeling extra strong. Maybe all those girls that Sirius screwed over in the past were sending me their strength.

“I was studying the night of the party. It was the first one that I missed and you messed it all up! Here’s what should have happened.” My hand motions are taking over as the words roll off my tongue. I didn’t even plan any of this. “You should’ve said no, you should’ve gone home, you should’ve thought twice before you let it all go. This school is so damn small that you should’ve known that word about what you did with her would get back to me!”

Maybe I shouldn’t have just pointed to Marlene at that point…oh well. Put my focus back on Sirius.

“I should have been there in the back of your mind. I shouldn’t be asking myself why all of this happened. You shouldn’t be sitting outside of my room begging for forgiveness at my feet. If you would’ve said no, we would still be together. I did everything right! This is your fault!”

His eyes widened at my words. I can’t look at him anymore. I’m not eating breakfast, but it’s fine. I would be on a high from this for at least a little while. I could probably get through my morning classes. I don’t have any with Sirius, so that wouldn’t be a problem. I do have them with Remus, so that could pose an issue, but with what I am feeling right now, I can take it.

“Y/N! Wait up!” Lily’s red hair chased me from the crowded hall. Her face was lighting up everything else. “That was awesome! I mean, Sirius isn’t looking too great, but you were fantastic! I think some people wanted to applaud you on your way out.”

My high began to fade. I didn’t mean to make him feel awful. I just didn’t want to let it seem like he could walk all over me and what he did was okay. It isn’t okay! Cheating is one of the lowest things a person could do!

Lily could see the uncertainty on my face. “Was I too hard on him? Should I have done that in private?” I could feel my eyes begin to puff and redden again.

“He deserved it, Y/N/N. What he did to you wasn’t in private, so I think this is justice.” Lily smiled.

That smile quickly fell. I turned to follow her line of sight. Sirius stood there, just looking at me. He was being quick to run up to me.

“Can we please talk?”

“That’s not a good idea.”

“I said I’m sorry. It’s all in the past!” His eyes are pleading with me, but I just can’t do it. “I want to be with you, Y/N! I have wanted to be with you for the longest time. It was just a moment of weakness. If you could just give me a chance, please?”

“You hurt me, Black.” I needed to stop and cringe. I used to only call him by his last name and it felt wrong to be using it again. “You can tell I’ve been crying, just look at my eyes! I’m sure everyone can see it. And you know all the right things to say! You’ve always been good with words. That’s one of the reasons I fell for you. But do you honestly expect me to believe that we could ever be the same after this? You should’ve said no, Black.”

I turn to walk away, Lily being supportive next to me, but something is tugging on me, a question I didn’t realize I had, so I turn back to Sirius.

“I need to ask you something before I go. I can’t resist. Was it worth it? Was she worth all of this?”

Sirius hung his head. I haven’t seen him like this since he decided to leave home, and I was just a friend at that point. “No. She wasn’t.”

I nod, accepting the fact that he understands that he messed up. Maybe, in the future I can forgive him for this and even be friends, but like I said, we could never be the same. Walking away right now seems like the best option for me though. With Lily beside me, I am going to go to classes and I am going to heal and move on. I said my peace to Sirius Black. He made a mistake, but I would not be the victim of the next one.

#sirius black x reader #sirius black #marauders #young marauders #harry potter #angst #harry potter x reader #song fic #first sirius fic #kalimagik #angst fic #lily evans #james potter #remus lupin #padfoot #sirius black imagine #sirius black fic

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mytrashs-blog · 4 years

Text

Drunk On You- T.H.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: SMUTTTTTT. Please do not read this if you’re under 18. The Smutty part is between this signs: [...] so if you want to skip over the smut, you can, but it won’t make much sense. Also... There’s A LOT of swearing.

Summary: You’re a virgin and you’re drunk so you send a risky DM on instagram.

Word Count: Almost 6k... she’s thicc

A/N: I cannot tell you just how much I enjoyed writing this! It started as a 2 am inspiration punch and then it took me three weeks to finish it. It’s my first time writing smut, so I don’t know if that part’s good, but I like it and I really hope you do too. (Please if you do like it, reblog it so it can be read by more and more people).

Masterlist

(Gif isn’t mine and I couldn’t track the author, so credits go to the owner)

Fuck this shit, you’re 22 years old, you’re in college and as much as you enjoy leaving fratboys with blue balls in the middle of a party, you need to get this over with. You’re tired of waiting for the “right guy”, if you keep on doing that you’ll end up virgin for your whole fucking life. But where the fuck can you find a guy that’s not gonna judge you for being a sad, drunk virgin in the middle of a tuesday night? Being drunk and alone at your dorm was pathetic enough…

So you scroll through instagram for a while only to find out there’s no right suitor for the job, but in the heat of the moment you notice that Tom Holland, yes the scrawny white boy that looks 12 and plays Spider-man has just posted a shirtless picture and boy, he does not look 12 anymore. So you slide into his DM’s just for the shit and giggles:

“Hey, Tommy boy!

You probably get millions of DMs like this every second of everyday, but fuck, I just wanted to say that you are extremely hot and I am extremely virgin and I’m also drunk, so I thought I’d write you to ask for a massive favor.

Would you have sex with me just to take my virginity away? Ok, thanks.

Bye!

P.S. I think you’re great in your new film.”

And yes, you did press send to that, but of course you don’t even remember writing it in the first place the next morning while getting ready for your 9am class, so your daily routine goes on as normal.

But then, while you’re making your best effort not to fall asleep while your professor talks about some depressed artist that beat his wife and was super sexist, but was somehow excused because he made some decent poem, you hear the unmistakeable ping of your phone, which can only mean that you got a text, so you go to see it, because that is far less rude than falling asleep during class, but you were surely not ready for what was showing on your phone screen.

All air, and life to be honest, left your body for a second, you double checked, and then triple checked and yes… Tom Holland had wrote you on instagram’s direct messages.

“Holy fuck” you only realize you said that out loud when the three people closest you turn to look at you and shush you, but you’re still in shock and still have not opened the message, but maybe it’s not a great idea to open it in front of everybody, specially your professor, so you figure the bathroom will be the best place to do it.

You lock yourself in a stall and sit down, get your phone out, take a deep breath and open the instagram message. My God, you were not expecting what your screen showed:

“Haha, this is too cool to ignore! I happen to be in your area right now… Give me a call and I’ll make it happen ;)”

And yes, his phone number was there too. The phone number of THE Tom Holland! like… WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?! What are the odds of him actually reading your DM? And the odds of him replying? And the odds of TOM MOTHERFUCKING HOLLAND agreeing to be your first time?! Someone up there must be having a good laugh.

But it would be rude to chicken out now, right? One does not simply say no to fuck with a Marvel actor. You gotta do it. It's your holy duty. So you reply with a simple “Looking forward to it” and you get your shit together before returning to your class.

You think about texting him while you walk to grab some lunch, but what do you say to a celebrity that agreed to deflower you?… Wait. Holy shit! You’re actually gonna have sex with Tom Holland! He’s super ripped! And you’re gonna see and feel all his bits and pieces… honestly, your panties got a bit damp just thinking about that. This is gonna be fun.

You decide to shoot the text while waiting for your iced coffee. “Hey, it’s (Y/N) from instagram. Are you serious about the thing? If so, when are you available?”

And that’s when the game begins, cause he replied almost instantly and you decided he’s just another fratboy playing around, so you played along.

“I’m dead serious, babe. I can do it tonight.”

“Nice. That’s how I like it… what time are we talking about?”

“9 ish, maybe 10.”

“Gotta give me an hour… also, it would have to be at yours, cause I live in a dorm that I share with another girl.”

“You could ask her to join…”

“Haha. Nah, this is all for me to enjoy.”

“And you will. 9:30 sounds good for you, babe?

“Perfect.”

“I can pick you up. Send me your location and I’ll go there.”

“Nice. I’m liking it already.”

“You’ll like it even more.”

You go about your day with a stupid smile all day, nervous and excited for what’s gonna happen later. Paying attention to class? What is that? Concentrating on your due projects? You don’t know her. All you can do is think about the things that man might do to you later.

Wait… you gotta shave. Also, should you go buy some nice underwear? It overwhelms you how unprepared you are and you run, abandoning everything you had to do that day to go get ready to have sex with a super hot celebrity.

You shaved, exfoliated, bought nice underwear, picked out a sexy outfit, you even tried to work out a little to look a bit more toned for him. You allowed your most extra self to come and shine, and you definetely enjoyed the process.

“What are you getting ready for? It’s wednesday. I doubt there’s any interesting party. Oh God! Do you have a date?” your roomate asked as soon as she saw you posing a skirt for the mirror when she walked in.

“I think so… I don’t know. I’m gonna meet this guy I met on instagram.” She gave you a corncerned look, but you were definetely not gonna tell her the details, that’s extremely private, it’s rude to tell people about celebrities intimate life, even if it’s with you. He didn’t mention anything about keeping it secret, but it would do a lot of harm to freely go around saying that he likes having sex with fans. It would ruin his privacy completely. At least from your part, you can guarantee no one’s ever gonna find out.

True to your word, you sent him your location an hour before the time you arranged and he called you, yes. HE CALLED YOU at 9:30p.m. on the dot to tell you he was outside and it took you a second to process the call, so much that you couldn’t voice anything more than an “Okay”… that basically ruined your super confident text attitude, and this was over the phone, would you even be able to get inside his car? The nervousness really hit you like a truck the second you hung up the phone, and your roomate noticed, but she didn’t say anything.

After taking a few deep breaths and counting to ten trying to calm yourself down, you get your purse and walk down the hallway and the stairs of the dorms and by the time you get to the main door, your legs are shaking like crazy and your palms are a little sweaty, so you gotta calm down again and remind yourself that this man is just a regular human being and that nothing has to happen if you don’t want to. And just like with tequila shots, you stop thinking and just go for it.

As soon as you see the car, you walk confidently towards it, and as he rolls down the window you can see it really is him, but you don’t let his face tear your confidence down, so you slightly smile and get in the car, it’s an extremely fancy car and you’re sure you’ve never set foot in anything this luxurious, honestly there’s no doubt that the seat your ass is resting on right now could easily be worth your entire college tuition and student loans. Okay, maybe that is an exageration, but it sure looks expensive.

“Hey, nice to finally meet you in person… I’m Tom!” he smiles in a polite and friendly matter, and you can see there’s a hint of nervousness in his smile aswell and that eases you a little because it confirms that he’s just as normal as you are.

“I’m (Y/N), pleasure to meet you. Thank you for agreeing to do this. I know it’s super weird and all, and I was definetely not expecting this outcome when I sent that message last night, but I’m grateful regardless…” you’re rambling, but he doesn’t seem to mind, he looks amused even. When you finally stop talking he drives away and you fall into a slightly uncomfortable silence, until he turns the music on and you recognize the song so you start humming along, and he joins, but other than that, there’s not much talking on the way to the apartment he’s staying at temporarily right now.

The place looks expensive, but it’s also very simply decored, it does look a temporary thing, but it also looks like a place where a single chaotic youn man exploded, so there’s empty beer bottles here and there, clothes literally everywhere and dirty dishes in the sink… but it does smell like cologne, very manly aswell… being at his place sets a whole new level of anxiety, because this is just so intimate. You’re inside his little world, his safe space, and even if it’s just for a brief moment you’re just happy that he agreed to do this with you.

“Do you want anything to drink? I have wine, beer and a spare champagne bottle from the other night… or just water. Please make yourself comfortable, sorry about the mess, I really don’t like cleaning.”

“That’s alright… you should see my dorm during finals week, that’s a whole other level of messy, haha… and wine would be great, thanks.” You’re slowly calming down and trying no to overthink about what’s about to happen and forget about the reputation of the man you’re doing it with, because the fact that he’s famous doesn’t mean he’s less human and maybe glorifying him for his job is a little rude from you. So you sit down in the couch, right next to a thrown blue hoodie, hold on a second… this is the one from Spider-Man: Homecoming, the one with the emblem of the highschool, shit, this is a historical piece of clothing for the cinematic world and you’re sitting right next to it. Shit, there goes all the progress you had made in the last fifteen minutes.

When he comes back with two glasses of wine in one hand and the bottle in the other one, you help him put down the stuff safely because he looks so stressed carrying the things and it is a small funny moment, before he sits down right beside you and it becomes impossible to get your words to come out of your mouth. So he takes the lead.

“Listen, I don’t want you to think I’m some sort of predator, okay? I don’t know why I agreed to do this, but it was not to take advantage of you, so if at any point you feel uncomfortable and you don’t wanna do this anymore, you can just tell me and we’ll call this off, okay.” He puts his hand on you knee to reassure you and it does make you feel better, and you relax into your seat and just nod a little before speaking.

“Thank you” And it comes out like you’re breathing out in relief, and that’s when he leans in to kiss you and you take a deep breath before corresponding and taking the last step to seal your lips together.

Your mind just goes blank and you forget what you were nervous about in the first place, kissing Tom is not that much different than kissing any other guy, except for the fact that his lips are softer than most guys’, but this one does have to take care of himself, it is literally part of his job and it should not be that surprising that a guy takes basic care for his appearance, but it is nice.

[…]

The kiss moves in a nice rythm and his hands start sliding from your knee to your waist and he pulls you closer to him and your hands find their courage and go to the back of his neck and so you’re also pulling him in, and all you want is to have him closer, as close as you can possibly have him, and when his hand moves down to your ass, you take that as the perfect moment to throw your leg over so you can straddle him and now both of Tom’s hands are on your ass and you grab onto his shoulders for leverage, and just because you need to breathe in properly, you let your lips disconnect and you see him beneath you.

His hand comes up to move your hair out of your face and you stare at each others eyes for a second and it doesn’t feel overwhelming anymore, so you smile at him for a brief moment, but being apart from his lips feels terrible right now so you lean back in and his hand is in your head and he’s pushing you closer to him, and your hands just slide down to his chest, you play with the chain he has on for a second and he smiles into the kiss, but then you move your attention to the buttons of his shirt and start undoing them.

You take your lips to his neck and he becomes super responsive, you find his sensitive spot quite quickly and he moves you closer to him so you feel his lenght rubbing against your core and it makes you go undo the buttons faster, before you know it he’s taking the shirt off and throwing it to the floor, when his hands are free, he takes advantage and lifts your blouse and you put your arms up to give him easy access. You’re glad you rush bought that set of nice underwear, because Tom’s eyes visibly fill with lust at the sight of the barely there lacy piece covering your breasts.

He touches your chest ever so lightly it gives you goosebumps, he traces a path to your breasts but he stops right before getting to them “Can I?” he whispers, looking straight into your eyes, and there’s something so sexy about him seeking your explicit consent, it makes your panties a little wetter, you nod lightly and he goes ahead, tracing the shape of your breasts with his fingers, like he wants to get familiar with them, he takes one of your nipples between his fingers and applies a little preasure on it, and then on the other one, he’s taking his sweet time before cupping them and pressing his lips in the space between them, and your hands respond to that by taking his hair and pulling lightly and he moans into your skin and it makes you shiver.

He keeps leaving wet kisses on your nipples and sucking on sensitive spots and you can swear it will leave marks, but who cares, you’re just over the moon with everything that’s happening and you just want more and more. He takes one hand to your ass again and he holds it tightly, using the other hand he slides to the edge of the couch and just like it’s nothing heavier than an empty box, he stands up, and you gasp because frankly you were not expecting it, he laughs a little and gives you a reassuring smile.

“I just thought we’ll be more comfortable in my room.”

“Okay, then.” You find it so odd that he’s so unbothered while carrying your full weight, like you’re not exactly the lightest woman in the world, but you won’t deny that being so close and personal to his biceps like this, it’s something you could get used to.

He takes you up the stairs, and along the corridor, once you reach the door, he turns the knob but decides to kick the door rather than opening it like a normal person, but you can’t complain because every moves looks hotter than the previous, and when he lays you down on his bed and stays hovering above you, you just can’t handle it and you kiss him again, your legs hug around his bum to bring him closer where you need him and he takes the hint, he pushes your skirt to your stomach and before he does anything else, his seeks your consent “Is this okay?” he asks, “Yes.” you say loud and clear and he rubs his fingers on your core, and it feels good, but your panties feel like a concrete wall, you just need to feel his fingers, his everything all over your body, so you arch your back and unzip the skirt and he pulls it down and throws it to a corner of the room.

He takes a second to look at you in just your underwear and you feel exposed, but he’s looking at you like you’re some sort of Goddess, he kicks his shoes off and goes to undo the button of his jeans, and it looks so slow and you need him now but you watch him and when he slides down the jeans and you can make out the shape of his member. You feel a little overwhelmed with the view in front of you, and you take a moment to take it all in. His face is crowned by (now) very messy curls, his eyes that used to be brown are practically pitch black by both the dim lighting and lust, there’s freckles all over his nose and cheeks, but they’re barely noticeable, his jawline is the most defined you’ve ever been near to, but even though there are a lot of strong features in his face, he looks almost childish and innocent… until you drop your eyes to his chest, that is.

Every single muscle in his chest has some sort of definition, he’s not as ripped as in the movies, but then again, he’s not super dehydrated and over exercised right now, and he still looks more muscular than any guy you know, his abs are defined, there’s a visible V marking the path from his hips to his member and it is stupidly making your mouth water. He has black Calvin Kleins still on, but that’s the last piece of clothing he has on, and the anticipation is killing you.

He takes you by the ankles an pulls you closer to the edge of the bed and he spreads your legs open and gives you a devilish smile before leaning back in to give you a quick yet intense kiss on the lips and he slides down to your neck and chest again, but he keeps making his way down your body towards your bellybutton and it gives you goosebumps everytime he gives you even a peck or a light touch, you’re shivering with every touch.

“Relax, love… if you want me to stop you can just say it, okay?” He says looking up at you and you nod, you breathe in to calm your nerves down, he waits for you, when you’re finally ready you nod at him again, he gives your waist a light squeeze, smiles at you and places a kiss to your stomach and keeps kissing you lower, until one of his hands goes to your thigh while the other teases the waistband of your panties, hooking one finger on it, he starts pulling it down painfully slowly, you lift your bum to make it easier for your panties to leave your body, once Tom strecthes them to throw them to some part of the room, you sit up to take off your bra and he looks intently at you while you do it, so you smile and lock your eyes to his just to make it more interesting, and you also take your sweet time unclasping the clips, and Tom starts to get impatient, you can see it in his smile, but you enjoy playing with him so even when you do unclasp both clips, you keep the piece on and he puts his hands on his hair in exasperation and you just laugh, enjoying this small moment of being the one in charge, but you give in and take the lacy bra off and throw it to him, he catches it and throws it to the side.

You’re completely naked in his bed and he’s taking the view in. “You’re very beautiful, you know?” he says and you feel the blush creep up to your cheeks, but you smile and thank him regardless, he smiles back and leans back down, he kisses one of your thighs and then the other one, before he does anything else he looks up at you, once again looking for any signs of hesitation “Are you sure you want this?” he asks from his position and when you nod, he dives in.

He presses a light kiss into your folds and you immediately feel electricity emmiting from your core. Needless to say it’s your first time recieving an oral, every sensation is new, you can’t even tell if he’s good at this or not, but for you, it feels like the best sensation in the world, his tongue dances over your clit and you just grasp the sheets for dear life and when he sucks on it you swear you could come right there, but you manage to hold it for a little longer and he keeps going, it doesn’t take long for him to introduce one finger inside, the moan you let out is just obscene and he seems to love it, because he moans too but the vibrations that it sent to your clit make you lose it and you come yelling his name like your life depends on it and he guides you through your first orgasm of the night with his mouth and finger still pumping in and out.

“You’re dripping wet, you know that?” He tells you once you’ve calmed down and have regained your ability to function like a human being, you smile at him, trying to speak, but that function has not come back yet. He kisses you in the mouth and you can taste yourself in his mouth, you start relaxing into the kiss, and he starts tracing gentle circles on the skin of your stomach and you turn your body so can be face to face and your leg happens to feel his dick, and it feels impossibly hard, so you try to relieve the pressure by stroking it with your hand, but when you get your hand down his waistband, Tom stops you “If you touch me now, I’ll be the biggest dissapointment of your life.”

“You forget that I’m a virgin… I have nothing to compare you to.”

“Still… I’ve got my pride.” he finishes as he gets up and rumbles in a drawer of his nightstand, he finds the condom and shows it to you. “Do you want to do this?”

You take a deep breath, there’s nothing you want more than do it right now, but it sure makes you nervous, still you give him verbal consent “Yes, I do.”

That’s all he needs, he stands up completely and takes his underwear off, it happens quite fast, but you do get to apreciate his dick in full exposure, not that you’d know, but it sure looks like it’s gonna be hard to fit that inside of you, and you panic a little and Tom notices and chuckles while he slides the condom on, “It’s gonna be alright, I’ll make sure of it.”

He crawls back to the bed and hovers above you, his hand go to your core again and he slowly introduces one finger into you and starts pumping in and out slowly, he stays looking in your eyes, watching your every reaction, you’re moaning slightly, when he notices that you’ve gotten used to the sensation, he adds another digit and the pressure feels uncomfortable, but he notices so he waits for you to get used to the feeling before he starts pumping it, you bite your lip as you enjoy his movements, moans coming out of your mouth to the rythm of his fingers, when he starts stretching you by doing scissor motions with his fingers, the feeling increases and it is a lot more intense so you hold onto his arm, he’s still looking at you, wanting to be sure that you’re okay and staying alert to see any signs of discomfort in you, but you like it so much.

He takes his fingers out and the emptiness is just overwhelming, but when you see that he’s trying to align himself to your entry, you relax and stress at the same time. This is real. It’s gonna happen. Actually it’s happening at this moment. He looks at you again and lifts his eyebrows in question, you nod lightly and you hold on to his forearm and his neck in preparation. He pushes slowly in, it hurts a little but it’s not that bad, Tom sees you wincing and stops, waiting for you to get used to the new feeling, when you do, he keeps pushing a little. The rythm goes like that until he’s fully in.

You can see he’s having a hard time trying not to hurt you, it’s clear that he just wants to go for it, but you’re grateful he’s containing himself while you get used to the feeling of being so full right now, when you’re ready, you nod at him and he pulls slightly out, waits for you, and pushes back in. The rythm is slow at first for you to get used to it. At first it feels like too much, but the more he thrusts into you, it starts being not enough.

His grunts and moans sound heavinly to your ears, and whenever you are brave enough to just open your eyes and see him, his face is just so beautiful, he has a frown in his face out of concentration and self control, you’re admiring him when he opens his eyes and they meet yours, it’s such an intimate moment, it makes you blush a little bit, you caress his cheek and hair, interlocking your fingers in his curly locks, he lets out a soft moan in pleasure.

The pace gets faster and stronger and you’re getting closer to your high with every thrust, he’s hitting a point inside of you that you didn’t even know existed and it’s a whole new level of pleasure, it’s even making you feel like the world is spinning, you grab onto his back and scratch as you try to keep it together, he moans loudly and stops and pulls out suddenly.

“Get on all fours for me, love.” he tells you and you comply, he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed so he can fuck you while standing up off the bed, you try to arch your back to give him better access, he slides in easier now, and the sensation changes completely, he’s hitting another point that feels even better in this angle, the pleasure doesn’t let you stay stable and your arms can’t keep you up, so you press your face to a pillow and you can’t stop moaning his name, your high creeping up from your stomach once again.

“T- Tom… I think I’m gonna…”

“Wait for me, darling, I’m right there with you.”

His thrusts become sloppy and arythmic, he goes faster, his grunts louder with each thrust, your names falls from his mouth a lot more now, and his is the only word you can say at this point. You come first with an incredibly loud moan of his name. The feeling of you reaching your orgasm around his dick is enough to send him over the edge too, your name being dropped with a loud grunt, he squeezes your breast and rests his head on your back when he comes down from his high, both of you panting. You stay like that for a moment, but then Tom pulls out and goes to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.

[…]

You lay in the bed completely naked, but you do feel more exposed now that the moment’s over, so you cover up with a pillow and think about what just happened, relishing on how good it was, you figure this was the best idea you’ve had in a while, even if the most ridiculous but it worked out pretty well.

Tom comes back soon after and hands you a water bottle (because he apparently just keeps water bottles in his bathroom), you thank him and he lays in the bed with you. “How was that?” he asks you in some worried matter, like his whole career depended on your answer, you look at him and smile at him like he’s crazy, you had two orgasms, isn’t that enough proof that you liked it? when the anxiety becomes aparent in his face, you give him the verbal confirmation. “Of course I did, wasn’t it obvious?” you say while trying to hide your face, he takes your arms to stop you from doing so.

“Y/N! Don’t hide! It was actually really good for me too, and I’m happy you had a good first time, it’s cool.”

You smile at him bigger now, getting more comfortable now, and he leans to leave a kiss on your forehead, and you lay there just chilling for a while. Checking the clock in Tom’s bedside table you realize it’s almost 2 in the morning, you haven’t talked about this, but you think it’s not a good idea to stay the night, maybe he has things to do tomorrow, and you do have a class at 9, so you start to get up to recolect your clothes.

“Where are you going?” Tom asks in a whiny tone, he was right about to fall asleep before you got up.

“I think it’s time for me to leave, it’s quite late and I’ve got class tomorrow.” you reply with a slightly sad tone, just for the drama.

“You don’t have to go. There’s no way I’m letting you take an uber and I’m too lazy to get up and drive you… so stay, I promise I’ll take you to your front door tomorrow morning, alright?” also, he gives you mad puppy eyes to convince you, but you still move around the room trying to find your underwear, just to not be naked anymore.

“Okay, just let me put some clothes back on, cause this is weird.”

“Can you throw me my underwear, please?”

“Yeah, just let me try and find them.” You throw them at him once you find them among the mess and they land straight in his face, you just gotta laugh at it and he just rolls his eyes at you and puts the thing on jokingly bitching about you being rude to him and you just laugh at him while you walk back to the bed.

At some point, Tom goes to retrieve your clothes and the wine from the living room while you just scroll through your phone absent mindedly, you half read the tweets and just ignore the instagram posts you see until he gets back and gives you your barely touched glass of wine and lays back down next to you.

You stay there for a while just talking and drinking, actually getting to know each other, you tell him about your major in college, how hard it gets sometimes, and you even tell him about why you had never had sex before. He tells you about his work, his family, the things he wants to do next… he does tell you a little tiny spoiler of the future of Marvel, which you had to swear you wouldn’t reveal to anyone ever and it would be a secret you take to your graveyard. It’s a nice pillow talk, you’re laying in the bed, facing each other, his hand is lazily resting on your waist, yours playing with the chain on his neck. This is likely even more intimate than the sex itself, and it’s nice.

When you do finally fall asleep, is in that position. Wine bottle completely empty in the floor, clothes laying around, only sound in the room being the light snores of Tom and heavy sleep breathing. You’re extremely comfortable and relaxed, long forgotten how nervous you were before this happened. You could get used to this.

Your slumber is ruined when the alarm goes off at half 7 in the morning, you feel tired, but you get your clothes back on anyway, Tom takes a little longer to fully wake up, but he keeps his promise and throws a pair of sweatpants and a white shirt, he also throws a hat on just to not deal with his morning/sex hair, for the same reason, you also just put your hair in a messy bun.

He actually parks the car and walks you back to your dorm, it’s quite early, but there is some people around the hallways anyways and it makes you a bit anxious thinking you might get him in trouble if he does get recognized, but he seems relaxed and unbothered about it anyway.

“I had a lot of fun. It was really nice to get to know you… call me up if you ever want to do this again, okay?” he tells you with his hands stuck in his pockets, it makes you smile how cute he looks.

“Thank you, Tom. I really enjoyed it… thanks for not being weird about this whole thing.”

“That’s alright. Okay, take care and don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“Okay.” He gives you a last kiss on the cheek before you get inside your dorm to get ready for class, and he goes back home, and that is it.

Months go by without you ever talking to or about Tom, you just assumed that was the end of everything you lived with him and it is a lovely and super hot thing to remember, but there's nothing more to it.

Bing

Your phone goes off in the middle of the night. You were studying, so you weren't talking to anyone. As you check the notification, you freeze just like you did the first time you saw his name on your screen.

"Hey! I'm in your town! What are you up to?"

Tagging some people to avoid the flop:

@caeruleum-in-caritate-lupus, @softstarkk, @peterparkerbabyy, @dottirose, @legit-fandom-trash, @carostar2020, @appreciating-chase-brody, @mvmakki @madmadmilk @hollandrecs @starksparker @sunshinehollandd

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t-o-m-hollands · 4 years

Text

Tom x You

Summery: Tom and his brothers have a pub. You, trying to avoid working on your new album, spend most of your time in there. Lots of flirting and bickering ensues.

Themes: Sort of frienemies to lovers, slow burn, mutual attraction but they are both to dumb to realise. General dumbness all around. Idiots in love.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: Drinking and swearing. Smut in future chapters.

PART I of IV

***

At 8 years of age your father hands you a worn guitar and with the patience of a saint teaches you how to make it play the holiest of sounds. Every day you practise, until your fingertips has hardened and they move effortlessly over the strings.

At 10 years of age you write your first song. It’s a puerile little tune about a sweet boy with hair like honey and an opportunity lost. It’s repetitive and nonsensical but your mother hums the chorus for weeks after hearing it.

At 14 years of age you meet up with a record label and when signing the dotted line on the contract you feel a chill down your spine and your grandmother’s stories about the crossroad demon comes back to you verbatim. With determination you still put your name on the paper in a signature you’ve spent hours practising. Only days later you hear your voice on the radio for the very first time.

At 17 years of age there are headlines in magazines about you, photos of men they claim you’ve dated and interviews with people who claim to be a ‘close source’ to you, even though you’ve never met them, spilling lies on every page. You find out your closest friend has sold information about you to the tabloids for over a year.

At 19 years of age you go on a world tour, though the only parts of the world you see are airports, hotels and playing venues and then later at night: nightclubs. You travel the world, but you learn nothing about it.

At 22 years of age and your boyfriend breaks up with you for an actress. There isn’t a day that year that tabloids don’t ‘report’ on it. He spends most of the time telling the world how much happier he is in his new relationship, and you spend most of your time staring down into a bottle.

At 24 years of age you feel drained, dog-tired and worn out. On a regular basis there’s photos of you stumbling out of pubs, bars and restaurants all over the internet. Your record label is threatening a lawsuit and you haven’t talked to your manager in weeks. You have no friends and your family doesn’t know what to do with you.

Okay, so maybe being a successful singer isn’t all that it’s cut out to be. Especially not when the entirety of the internet is making fun of you.

And yes, maybe you’re in a flunk and haven’t written anything decent in months. And okay, maybe you haven’t even picked up a guitar in weeks. And maybe throwing away your phone in order not to have to face the record label was a bad idea. And maybe, hand on heart, the right solution to your problems is not to waste your days away in a well-hidden pub in a backstreet in London with the cutest pub owner you’ve ever seen, with biceps that makes you want to drool. A pub owner who has no interest in you and finds you annoying beyond belief.

Yet here you are,

again.

***

“It’s Tuesday” Tom informs you as he hands you cherry coke and a straw.

So, it goes like this. Tom is obsessed with time. He’s always informing you of either what day of the week it is, or the time of day. As if he’s trying to shame you into realising that 10 am on a Tuesday is not an acceptable time to order a dry martini.

“So?” You ask, feigning ignorance as you open the can. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed that this is a coke and in fact completely free of alcohol. I mean in the good ol’ day they at least had the cutesy to put cocaine in there.”.

“Don’t worry” he says, scrubbing the surface of the already clean counter-top “there’s a shit load of other stuff that’ll destroy your insides in there”.

You try not to roll your eyes, honestly you do. You fail. “Oh no, is it sugar? Please, doctor say it isn’t sugar!” you wail dramatically.

“No, not just sugar” and you can tell he’s also trying not to roll his eyes at your exaggerated play acting. “You know, I saw this documentary once about what they put in coca cola and –”

“No, nope, no, no. Absolutely not” You shake your head vehemently as if that will stop his words. "I would literally rather hear you talk about goddamn golf for an hour than put me of one of life’s few great pleasures”.

This time he doesn’t manage to stop himself from rolling his eyes at you. “Oh, I think we both know you find more pleasures in life than coca cola”.

Before you can answer him something insanely witty the door to the office behind the bar opens and an anxious looking Harrison step out. “Tom, Sam says the fish delivery didn’t show up again so we’re out of cod and therefore fish ‘n chips.”

Tom rubs his face, looking worried. “Alright, I’ll call him up and see what happened.”

But Harrison still looks tense. “Also…” he trails off, losing courage.

“Also, what?” And Tom too sounds tense now.

“Well, Downey from the bank called, he says the invoice is way over due and he wants a meeting. I told him you’d call today”.

Tom keeps rubbing his forehead, as if to literally fight of a migraine, and his shoulders tense. “Yeah, yeah I’ll call him this afternoon”. Harrison nods and walks back into the kitchen

“You know, I cou –” but you don’t get to finish your sentence before he interrupts you. “Don’t” he says, voice sharp as a whip.

“But, it would just be a loan, honestly I – ”

“No, and I mean it.” And you judging by the tone of voice he uses and the stern look he gives you you’re well aware that he isn’t joking. It’s like his usually warm and kind eyes are nailing you down into your seat. “I’m not gonna borrow money from a customer, as you well know.”

The problem is that really wouldn’t be a big deal for you to offer him a loan or give it as a gift really. You love this pub. You love the people working here and the patrons and coming in for a drink or a meal or simply a chat and a laugh. It’s your safe haven. No one ever hardly ever bothers you here. No one asks you for a selfie or asks you about when more music is coming out. No one tugs at your sleeve or try to sneakily take a photo of you. Here, you are normal. And it would devastate you to see the Holland boys lose it all when you know you can help. You have more money than you know what to do with.

However, you know there’s no arguing with him when he’s got that look on his face so you don’t, just keep sipping on your cherry coke as your foot taps along to the song on the radio. From inside the kitchen you can hear the faint sound of the Holland twin's laughter.

Tom turns away from you to sort out the whiskey glasses on the counter behind him. But when picking up a glass he fumbles, and it falls out of his hand and lands right on his foot, though it fortunately doesn’t break.

“Ah, fucking bastard!” he shouts, grabbing hold of his injured foot.

“You shouldn’t swear in church, you know” ¨you say, as you finish your coke.

He looks at you indignantly, pouting like a child, “well, lucky for me, this is a pub.”

“You say potato, I say tomato, now make me a real drink.”

“For fucks sake, darlin’, you gotta eat something.”

***

So, it’s either late or early, depending how you look on it. On tube stations all across London early worker are already gathering on the platforms to take their commute to work. Not you. Not Tom either.

Now, Tom is an early riser and has been since childhood. His nanna used to say that he had energy enough for three children. Despite regular closing shifts at the pub he likes to be up at dawn. Says he likes to get an hour at the gym and a walk with Tessa in before he heads to the pub to make sure everything is in order. After having checked with Sam that everything is stocked for the day, he has his protein loaded breakfast while ordering supplies or read through whatever paper work he need to be on top off before opening up the pub for the day.

Tom hates having this routine disturbed.

So, it goes like this. Harry had been the bartender most of that night, since Tom had ‘other business to take care of’. Whenever Harry was bartender he’d usually spent more time drinking with you than he did serving up the other costumers. When Tom came back and saw the state of you, he’d sent you home, telling you that you’d had enough for one night and asking Harrison to walk you home. Then he’d giving Harry a proper telling off. You had dutifully walked with Harrison to your apartment, thanked him sweetly, and then as soon as you saw that he had passed the corner walked into another pub just across the street for more. It wasn’t as charming a place as The Hollands and their bartender sure wasn’t as handsome or as fun to annoy as the regular one at Hollands. But in a pinch, anything will do.

Upon closing hour however, as you made your way home, you’d discovered that your keys were missing. Being absolutely wasted this did not worry you in the slightest. You just strolled back on unsteady legs to The Hollands to see if you’d dropped them there. Tom, who had closed the pub for the night, was still in. From the windows you could see him going through stacks of paperwork in front of him, a frown on his face. Upon hearing you knocking on the window at 2 am he’d jumped out his chair to see what was going on. When seeing you three sheets to the wind, dressed in a thin dress on a cold summer’s night the frown on his face had gotten worse.

Now here you are, in his apartment, in the dead of the night, and he’s offering you a plate of tortellini. Tessa had been overjoyed to see you and after having been allowed to greet you she had then been sent to her place and out of the way of your drunk, stumbling feet.

“But I hate tortellini” you whine.

“Christ sake, Popstar, just eat the damn food”

“No, I hate it, Tom, I hate it so much, it makes me think of- of- ” you hiccup.

“Are you actually crying right now?”

“It makes me think of- of - cheese sauce and -”

“Sorry, but what now?”

“And – I – I – I hate cheese sauce”. You’re full on sobbing and he just stares at you in disbelief.

Then, somehow the world seems fall the wrong way around. It takes you a second to realize that you’ve slid down on the floor and that you’re staring up at the ceiling. Tom’s strong arm take a hold of you and he guides you to a sitting position, leaned up against the wall. With your face in his hands he stares at you in indignation but there’s something else there too. You’re drunk enough to dare to call it tenderness.

Suddenly you’re aware that you’re sobbing, but you can’t remember why that is.

“Fuck who knows” he responds and when you give out a sound that’s something halfway between a sob and a laugh he starts laughing too. “If I make you something else to eat, will you eat it then? You’ll feel better in the morning if you do”.

Your head feels heavy, so you lean it against his hand and nod. “No cheese sauce, please”.

He rolls his eyes, but he’s laughing too. “Sure, no cheese sauce for Pop Princess.”

“Oi!” You call out “You promised to never to call me that!” Pop Princess was the title the tabloids had given you early on in your career. He keeps smiling, but it’s a gentle smile, and trace the frown between your eyebrows with his finger, as if he’s trying to erase it.

“Will you please just sit here while I cook?”

You nod again, too tired to say anything. He gets up, and you can hear some pouring water and then he places a glass of water in your hand. “Drink” he orders, then he’s gone again, and you can hear the clattering of pots and pans as he starts cooking. You’re just staring into the wall, trying to make it stop spinning; limbs heavy with sleep and whiskey, a nice buzzing numbness in your head.

Then he’s in front of you again, looking at you with a frown “I thought I told you to drink that” and you look at the full glass clasped in your hands. “Seriously, you’ll feel better if you do”.

You roll your eyes “oh, please, Tommy. Remember who you’re speaking to. I’m the local drunk, there’s no need to lecture me in hangovers”. But you do as you’re told and chug down your drink and hand him the empty glass. “Good girl” he says and gets back to his cooking. Before long the delicious scent of food is spreading through the tiny, cramped kitchen.

You start humming a song you wrote years ago but never released, low enough so you think Tom won’t hear you over the sizzling pan. But he does.

“What’s that?” he asks, curiosity in his voice.

“Oh” you say, leaning your head back against the wall as you close your eyes in the hope that the world will stop spinning. “Just a song.”

Everything goes quiet for a while and you find yourself wondering if you’ve fallen asleep. But then you hear his voice. “Keep singing, please”.

It surprises you, the amount of tenderness in his words; such a gentle bequest. So, you do as you’re told. In a voice raspy from the whiskey but sweet from his kindness you sing.

“I’ve been holding my breath, I’ve been counting to ten,

Over something you said, I’ve been holding back tears

While you’re throwing back beers, I’m alone in bed

You know I, I’m afraid of change, Guess that’s why we stay the same,

So tell me to leave, I’ll pack my bags, get on the road,

Find someone that loves you better than I do, darling, I know,

'Cause you remind me every day, I’m not enough, but I still stay”

You trial off and he keeps quiet too and goes silent again. Then he slides down beside you, a plate of pasta carbonara in his hands which he offers you along with a fork. “Eat” he orders gently. You do, and it tastes delicious.

“God, Tom, you could rival Sam in the kitchen”.

He snorts but you persist. “Seriously Tommy, I’d hire you as a private chef if I didn’t know you’d be an insufferable employee”.

He snorts again, but you can tell he’s amused. “Wow, thanks a lot”

“Seriously, you’d always complain about my lack of organization, or the fact that I keep all of my face masks in the refrigerator, or that I never have any food at home or that I don’t eat at regular hours or that I sometimes just forget to eat and just have a Red bull for dinner instead or that I – ”

“Jesus Christ” he interrupts you “who the fuck let you be an adult? What’s wrong with you!?”

You’re wolfing down your food, so it takes you a moment to answer. “Someone said my problem was ‘a mind-boggling lack of general discipline and a staggeringly low ability to organise’” you finally say.

“Who said that? I mean they’re not wrong”.

“You said that” you point out as you finish your plate of carbonara. “Also, this was scrumptious, and also, may I sleep here tonight?”

He looks at you in disbelief “Yeah, duh, I’m not kicking you out? I mean, I thought that was the general idea of this”.

He grabs a hold of your plate and takes your hand in his other as he guides you both up to a standing position. He places the plate among the other dirty pans in the sink and then lead you to his bathroom. Giving you a new toothbrush, he orders you to brush your teeth while he changes his sheets. He hands you a shirt to sleep in and when you’ve changed you argue for a good 10 minutes while about who’s to sleep on the couch before he puts his foot down and say he’ll ban you from his pub unless you take the bed instead of him. So, you do.

His bed soft and comfortable and smell of his detergent. From the living room you can hear Tessa’s deep breaths and the sound of Tom tossing around on the sofa. You wonder how uncomfortable he is.

“Tommy just come in here instead” you call out, voice drowsy.

“No, I told you, you take the bed”

You snort. As if you were going to give this bed up, no chance. Not now that you know how comfortable it is.

“Yeah, duh” you answer. “Wasn’t planning on taking the sofa, but the bed’s big enough for the two of us, innit?”

Dead silence from the living room. Even Tessa seems to have been struck silent.

“You sure?”

You sigh. “Yeah, I'm sure, for fuck’s sake Tommy, just come in here”.

You hear the sound of footsteps slowly making their way across the floor, then he’s in the doorway. Clad in a pair of black boxers and a black t-shirt, awkwardly scratching the back of his head as he avoids looking at you.

You pull down the covers and he lay down beside you, keeping his distance in the bed. You have your backs against each other, staring into separate walls and even through the whiskey you can tell this is awkward. You want to ask him to hold you, but you’re scared he doesn’t want it. Scared he doesn’t even want to lay beside you. You are after all just a costumer in his bar. A costumer you know he can’t afford to lose.

You don’t know how long you lay there in silence, his scent surrounding you, the soft sound of his breath lulling you into further relaxation but eventually you drift off to sleep.

When you wake, he’s gone. A note on his pillow tells you he’s gone to the gym, telling you to take anything you want for breakfast and just leave the keys at the pub later.

When you close the door behind you you can’t help but feel that something tender happened in there, something important; but you know he doesn’t feel the same.

***

It’s Monday night, as Tom has been so kind to remind you off, and you’re plastered.

Earlier the pub had been full to rim of football supporters shouting and singing and sharing pints before a big game, filling the entire place with an excited buzz. Now they’ve all gone off to cheer for their heroes on the field and only the patrons remain.

Harry is bartender tonight, and Tom has placed himself in the back of the pub, a stack of paper in front of him that he keeps leering at. With a drink in your hand and a happy-go-lucky attitude you seat yourself on the opposite side of his table, determent to cheer him up.

“’m gonna write a song about you.” You inform him, voice only somewhat slurry.

“Go on then.” He doesn’t look up at you, just jots something down on the form in front of him. He’s wearing glasses tonight and they make him look so handsome you want to scream in frustration.

“Well, what rhymes with Tom? Rum!”

“Oh, Christ, no. No, I’ve changed my mind.”

“Tom, he serves rum and tequila.” You sing. “Wait, what rhymes with tequila?”

“Please don’t”

“Heliophilia!”

“Okay, ’m literally begging you not to do this.” He’s looking at you now, his caramel eyes filled with both amusement and genuine dread. You don’t listen, no, you sing.

“Tom, he serves Rum and tequila,

he loves the sun, it’s called heliophilia

his pub needs fundin’, he lives in London”

“Wow. That is a hell of a forced rhyme, pop princess.”

“No, no wait!”

“Wait? I will literally pay you to stop”.

But then you start singing for real, in a voice so sultry that it makes him freeze mid motion, hand just about to turn the page over.

“Have you’ve seen my bartender

he’ll serve you whiskey, he’ll pour you rum

so sweet it’ll make you tender

but all the whiskey in Tennessee

couldn’t have that man agree

to ever share a drink with thee

no, all that sweetness’s just for me

cause babe, he’s my bartender

Yes, have you’ve seen my bartender

He’ll hand you wine, he’ll sell you gin

I think it’s a sign when he hands me my wine

When hand’s touching hand, skin touches skin”

Tom seem to be frozen in place when you stop, and over at the bar you hear Harry give a loud whistle. “Fucking hell, popstar” he cheers.

Tom still doesn’t say anything, just observes you, seemingly speechless. And maybe you’re imagining it, but he’s cheeks seem pinker than usual.

"Well, at least I didn’t rhyme rum with cum” you say, trying to get a reaction out of him. And then “I did think about doing it though” and you lift your glass to him as if in a toast before you down it.

He snorts, back to his normal self and stare down at the paper again.

“Now, honestly, Tom. What did that piece of paper ever do to you?”

“Huh?”

“You’re staring at it like you want to set fire to it. You’d like me to do it for you?”

“No thanks, reckon he’d sue”.

“Who is he?” you lean over the table and closer to him and you swear you can practically see him ordering himself not to look down at your cleavage. “Is he god?” you whisper in mock horror. “Cause, I wouldn’t worry too much, Tommy. You see, God can’t sue. Well, someone in America tried to sue Satan once and they couldn’t cause they couldn’t hand him the papers. Turns out Satan hasn’t got an address. Reckon the same goes with God”

He rolls his eyes “oh, this guy definitely has got an address. He lives in Knightsbridge.” And then, in a voice unusually bitter he adds “posh twat”.

“Oy” you warn, jokingly, “those are my neighbourhoods'”.

A sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh escapes him “Oh please” he laughs “please, you might live in Primrose Hill now, but you’re not Knightsbridge posh. Sorry to disappoint, Pop Princess”.

You glare, but it’s all in good humour. “So, who is this not-God-but-rich-as-God man sending you paper?”

The humour disappears from his face. “Downey, from the bank”. Then he turns to the bar and shouts, “Harry, hand me a pint, ye?”

“And a whiskey for me, please” you request sweetly.

“No way, Harry, she’s cut off for the night. Tell Sam to make her something to eat” he orders his younger brother who rolls his eyes but obediently begin to head into to the kitchen.

“Not tort -” you begin shouting as an instruction.

“Not tortellini” he shouts at the same time. “And no cheese sauce either” he then adds.

You smile at him and this time you swear he’s blushing.

“Who’s Downey? You ask. And you know you’re prying, but you also know that Tom needs help with something and if there’s anything you can do to help, you will.

“A bank man who wants me to pay my loans back”. He answers eventually after a long silence, when he figures you’re not going to give up and talk about something else. Harry comes back and hands Tom a pint and then leaves to take care of a costumer at the bar.

“A bank man, who lives in Knightsbridge?” You ask, bemused.

Tom smiles “oh, believe you me, Downey’s not your average bank clerk.” Then, in a serious tone, “look, I know you want to help, but there’s nothing you can do, ye? So drop it”.

“But I-”

“Drop it. Seriously, pop princess, there’s nothing you can do, I’ll figure something out”. He doesn’t sound harsh and the way he looks at you is positively adoring. Then he does something unexcepted. He reaches over the table and pulls a loose string of hair behind your ear. It’s a soft and sweet gesture and you want to reach over and kiss him but before you can he removes his hand and seconds later Harry places a dish of steaming pasta carbonara in front of you. You smile and thank him and he makes his way back to the bar.

You eat in silence for a while as he continues to read through stashes of papers. You decide to leave the subject, for now at least.

“Yours is better, by the way”. He looks up at you, confused. “Your carbonara” you clarify. “I mean, Sam is an incredible chef and you’re lucky to have him, but yours is my favourite”.

His cheeks heat up, again.

***

R E A D P A R T T W O H E R E

#tom holland #tom holland headcanon #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x oc #tom holland x fem #tom holland x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n

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wisherbysharlight · 4 years

Text

WHAT IF... SANDERS SIDES BUT MAKE IT A TROPEY TEEN BEACH AU

Endgame!LAMP. Dukeceit, Remile

Just 2k stream of consciousness words from a plunny that grew legs TW for v slight underage drinking, one joking mention of violence, and a non-specific discussion of intrusive thoughts

-Janus has just moved there because his parents wanted to start a new "adventure" and he is a Stereotypical Teenager. Very "ugh MOM I wanna go back to my FRIENDS for my LAST SUMMER BEFORE COLLEGE"(most of his friends suck. He should not spend time with them. He does not know this)

His Parents buy him a surfboard and tell him to try it out as a way to get him to Shut Up

Hes a Skater Boy(cue music) so he picks it up super fast from like,,, youtube videos

-He gets told to Get a Job if he wants to like, keep buying surf gear?

All the local kids work at like one restaurant/yacht club type place right on the beach

Janus gets hired as a host

-Logan is a beach badge checker, Patton, Roman, and Remus are beachfront restaurant waiters but Roman just Really Wants To Surf, Emile and Virgil are Lifeguards, and Remy is a bartender

-Janus is Very Good At Customer Service because Fake Smiles

Patton recognizes this Immediately

He shows him the Rage Closet which is a tiny room with an arm chair that locks from the inside where you can punch a pillow on your break when it gets to be Too Much

-Janus is Attached now and there is no getting rid of him

Patton Fully Endorses this and introduces him to the rest of the group

Janus Knows Immediately that LAMP is In Love but says nothing because he aint no snitch

-Remus surfs, but he also always wear a thong while doing it

Roman wears a full wetsuit and somehow still gets Board Rash. Remus is somehow immune and it infuriates him

-Janus, not knowing that the twins live right on the beach cuz they are RichTM: Hey Ree I kinda wanna learn how to surf would you be able to teach me

Remus, who religiously watches Janus surf every morning, but is absolutely willing to play this game: Yeah absolutely

Patton, later: “lets rinse off at the twins they’re right here” Janus: theyre.... What?!

-Meanwhile, elsewhere, Virgil and Roman are double teaming Logan to drag him into the water with them cuz he’s pouting about losing a debate with their manager about how he didn’t really be mean to the dudebro who wanted to get his buddies onto the beach without paying, he was just enforcing the rules. And if the dude was so offended by Logan’s Very Accurate Dragging that he complained to management then, well, that’s his problem not Logan’s

-Logan is never without a book. Ever. And its always a different book. Janus is starting to think he owns a library

One day he is just... reading a Physics textbook. Not taking notes or anything. Just reading.

Roman is Very Very Alarmed by this because he is Gay and Math is Scary

"Roman I'm also gay that is not a determining factor"

"Yeah but you can't drive"

"...fair"

-the first time janus has a shift with the twins, he cant stop staring, not just because hes like,,, super attracted to Remus but also because they are like Chaos Incarnate and yet somehow get the most tips??? He doesn't understand???

It's just cuz they are both Huge Flirts and Flatterers and the patrons dont care that they're not-so-subtly beating the shit out of each other right there on the dining floor because theyre just so charming

-one of the bartenders gets aggressively snapped at by a customer and called "sweetheart" and before Janus can even begin to react Remy is there, sunglasses off, fire in his eyes, telling them to settle their bill and get the fuck out

Janus, used to City Restaurants- "Wont you get in trouble with the owner?!"

Remy, who knows Nothing Else But This- "What?? Not likely I only did it cuz Thomathy wasnt here to do it himself"

-the restaurant is closed Monday and Tuesday so that is the Pseudo Weekend for the staff where everyone hangs out at the beach

Emile and Virgil take Tuesdays off but still work Monday’s cuz they feel better being the one watching over their friends

-Roman, staring at Virgil on the lifeguard stand: ugh he’s so pretty I almost wish I was drowning just so he could give me cpr

Janus: you wanna potentially get your ribs broken just for lip contact?

Remy, staring at Emile on the lifeguard stand: listen, if that’s what it takes, I’ll take it

Remus, immediately going up to the lifeguard stand because he has 0 impulse control: hey my brother and cousin want you to break their ribs

Virgil and Emile: excuse me?????

-Patton will literally spend hours in the water. Logan physically drags him out to put sunscreen on him every two hours to the minute. Patton does not admit that he purposely "forgets" just so Logan will do so

Logan is Dark and has never used sunscreen ever but Patton is so pale and he just gets so concerned about him. Patton thinks its adorable

He has pages of research on proper spf determination.

Roman and Remus use spf 15 just on their faces and have never once burned in their lives

Logan wants to submit them for scientific study because that shouldnt be possible

Virgil calls Logan out on the fact that he also should be wearing sunscreen and Logan like... blue screens he cant believe in all his research he missed that

-Patton is like... a ridiculously strong swimmer. Virgil still has a heart attack every time he goes for laps when there is the slightest hint of an undertow

Patton Knows This so he tries to stay in Virgil's sight line for the most part if there is an undertow. Or just dives over the waves again and again.

His nickname is Ariel. He thinks its just cuz of the swimming and the fact hes a red head. LAP all separately also tack on that its the swimming, the red hair, and the hnng pretty 10/10 would follow out to sea ala Prince Eric

-first beach bonfire Janus goes to Remy is Fully In Emile's Lap like... half an hour in

he has had like maybe a sip of a beer

Remus says he still claims this is because he is a Clingy Drunk

no one will call him on it, least of all Emile

-there is truth or dare. Roman may or may not skinny dip you have no proof

-Logan gets infuriated that he cannot roast a marshmallow properly

Patton does it perfectly every single time but its ok cuz he shares and Logan eats it right from his fingers and Roman and Virgil are just in the background Trying and Failing not to be the Most Jealous

Patton thinks theyre upset they didn't get marshmallows and makes some for them too and there is lots of Significant Eye Contact involved

Janus is going to spontaneously combust if they don't get their shit together

-Janus is out walking on the beach one night on a full moon cuz he cant sleep with everything so quiet around here when he sees a bright green patch out in the water and goes ...wait

he calls out to Remus and he comes into shore and is like "waves are perfect at night you should join me" so janus goes back and gets his board and they surf and chat for like the entire night

Janus finds out Remus couldn't sleep cuz intrusive thoughts were keeping him awake

Janus listens and doesn't judge, just lets Remus talk it out

They go back to shore and fall asleep on the sand next to each other like mid sentence still talking, now about whatever creative business idea Remus had, and get woken up by Logan's morning rounds like "come on guys you know you're not allowed to sleep out here" but they dont care theyre both just *blushing emoji*

-Logan Always Has A Notebook right? And a regular book he reads. And everyone assumes they are like Notions and Observations, but no, it’s actually blank paper and he uses it to sketch and then one day he leaves it behind and someone either Virgil or Patton finds it and flips through it and it’s all sketches of them and Roman and they’re like??? Actually really good? Anyway that’s how they find out Logan is actually minoring in art even though he’s majoring in something Very STEM

And he never told his best friends because like almost all his pre college art is Them and he doesn’t want to be caught having Feelings and by the time it gets to college it’s been too long and he can’t tell them now

Roman takes one of the sketches of him surfing and makes it his profile picture on All Social Media He Has and Logan is so flustered he nearly breaks his damn phone

Patton is so offended he didn’t get invited to Logan’s first showcase that he doesn’t talk to him for like two whole hours

Virgil quietly asks if there is any art of all four of them, finds out there is, and makes a print and keeps it on his bedside table

-They are all Pining Outwardly Now and its Worse

-Remus : you have known them since pre-k please ask them out I beg of you

Roman: You just dont get it

Remus: I asked Janus out after 4 weeks what is your problem

Emile: Virgil, I love you, you are my Partner in Anti-Drowning but you are so stupid

Virgil: What???? All I said is that you and Remy are really cute and I'd love to be in a relationship like that

Emile: I am not a violent person, Virgil, but I have the strong urge to smack you

Patton, in the Rage Closet: They're all just so hOT and ReSPEctFUL

Janus, waiting for his turn, trying to act like he cant hear him: I Am Looking Elsewhere

Logan: I just don't understand why they were more upset that I didn't tell them than that I'd been making art of them for years?? Shouldn't that second part be worse??

Remy, who has been partial to Every Single One Of AMP Waxing Poetic About Logan: Yeah, no idea /s

-the twins get into a surfing competition as a pair and everyone goes to see them and support them

Thomas airs the competition on every tv in the restaurant cuz he’s Proud of his Bois

They WIN cuz they are Creative and Talented and came up with all sorts of crazy tricks while they were fucking around in the water but it earns them Major Bonus Points for originality

-Roman does the run off the podium and into Love’s arms trope with just like... whoever’s closest lets go Patton because he is a Waif and forced himself up front so he can see

The other two are Devastated because well shit but then Roman pushes through the crowd, still holding Patton’s hand, and gives them this smile and is like “remember in like second grade when we said we’d do everything together and made a pact on this beach”

Analogical: uhhhhhh yeah

Roman: holding you both to it. No take backs. This counts. Now kiss me, dammit, we WON and they DO MANY TIMES AND ITS REAL CUTE

-Meanwhile dukeceit have Mysteriously Disappeared and No One wants to be the ones to go find them. They show back up, eventually. Janus has a branch in his hair and remus' hair is sticking straight up and when he opens his mouth roman glares at him and tells him in no uncertain terms that they do not want to know

AnYWaY these are my children and I will gladly answer any questions about them. I left out Janus Backstory and Creativitwins Angst and Many Individual LAMP Scenes and Remile/Dukeceit getting together and Epilogue but can absolutely provide such things on request

#romantic lamp #dukeceit #remile #ts fic #sanders sides fic #remus mention #tropey beach au #listen im not responsible for what i do when on the beach with discord open #this is so self indulgent my god

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