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thetaleoflevi · 3 years

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Distance

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Pairing: Levi x Fem!Reader

Content Type: SFW

TW: Season 3 spoiler, Blood, Profanity, Suicide (For a split second), Suggestive

Description: Reader distances herself from Levi, strongly believing her feelings are not reciprocated by him, causing Levi to miss her.

Word Count: 5.3k+

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Please go away, Captain. Or at least end me. I don’t like the way you make me feel when you’re around. I can’t breathe. Please stop walking my way. Stop looking at me with those eyes.

“Y/N, I need that paperwork on my desk by five o’clock today. Not a minute late, understood?” What are you even saying? Stop looking at me like that. His brows creased with impatience at your nonexistent response. “Hey, focus, brat.” He snapped his fingers at you, making you flinch out of your daze. “Yes, Captain! Right away.” You saluted messily and paced toward the door, returning when you figured out that you didn’t know what you were ordered to do.

“What are you agreeing to, brat?” God…that delicious word was cracking your last bits of sanity. “Repeat what I ordered you to do.” Levi demanded, not having moved an inch from where he was standing. He crossed his arms in annoyance. “Um, y-you… You said to-” “I told you to jump off of Wall Maria without any gear on.” Your eyes widened, and you felt as if all the air in your lungs got punched out of you. So this was your end. This is how you die? Your Captain found your expression to be almost as funny as a shit joke. He didn’t show it on the surface, though.

“Relax, idiot. I was kidding. I want you to finish the paperwork I gave you earlier and hand it in to me by five. Pay attention, or next time it won’t be a joke.” He walked toward the door of the meeting room and turned to face you you when he heard you yelling your affirmation like an annoying parrot. “Yes, Captain! It won’t happen again!” You gave him your best salute only to have eyes rolled at you.

Levi left the room not having a clue that you almost threw up in front of him. You felt that stupid after the situation. Usually, you always felt like the rest of the world went pitch black, with only a spotlight shining on you and him, whenever he talked to you. Even when he scolded you for not doing something to his liking, you couldn’t help but focus on his devastatingly gorgeous silver eyes and how they squinted occasionally in fury, or his lips that never seemed to curve upwards and spat the ugliest words at you sometimes. It was tough love. At least that’s what you made of it.

“What happened in here? Did somebody spike the Captain’s tea? I’m very concerned.” Armin had walked into the meeting room where you stayed, replaying the conversation you just had with your handsome superior. “What are you talking about, Armin?” You ask curiously, having just seen the man acting as unfazed as always. “He smiled, Y/N. He genuinely smiled.”

You were in just as much shock as Armin was. He smiled? And I missed it?! “What were you guys talking about?” Armin sat in one of the chairs next to you. His crystal blue eyes gleamed with curiosity, wondering what was so great that it could cause the most solemn man in the scouts to crack a smile. “I zoned out while he was giving me an order, and then he told me to kill myself—not in those exact words, but, he told me to jump off of Wall Maria without any gear on. I think I made a stupid face or something, but I really thought he was ordering me to die. Then he told me the actual order.”

Armin chuckled at your retelling of the story, knowing he would have reacted the same way as Levi. “Whatever it was that you did, keep doing it! We’ve only seen Captain Levi smile once, and it’s been forever since then. Historia was crowned queen when he last smiled in front of us.” You smirked dumbly and got off the desk you were sitting on. “I’ll try my best. I gotta go, Armin. I have some paperwork to get done before Captain Levi reigns even more hell down on earth.” Armin chuckles and waves a goodbye as you leave.

It was four forty-three, and you had barely gotten anything done. With all the time you were given, you took it upon yourself to leave your work until the last minute—the procrastinating prodigy that you are. You watched everyone do their work with no thought about your own. Four forty-eight. Four fifty. Four fifty-six. Four fifty-nine. Five o’clock.

“Have you guys seen Y/N?” Levi asked Sasha, Connie, and Jean. “No, sir. She was sitting with Eren, Armin, and Mikasa when I last saw her.” Connie replied. Fucking hell, Y/N.

It was five thirty-two when you finally knocked on Levi’s door. “How nice of you to show up on time.” You heard directly inside your ear. You gasped with fear and quickly turned around. Your Captain did not look pleased at all. “Can you tell me what time it is?” You checked the clock on the wall. “Five thirty-three, sir.” Your eyes looked at everything but him. “Okay, good. Come on in.” He unlocked his office door and waited for you to walk in before slamming it shut.

You bounced slightly at the harsh sound. “You better have a damn good excuse for why my paperwork is thirty-three minutes late.” He slowly walked over to you and the stack of papers you held tightly to your chest. “Did you even do it correctly?” He snatched the stack away from you, a few papers nicking the area between your thumb and index finger. You were quick to suck on the area that bled. He looked over the work you had done, keeping the compliments he would have rewarded you with to himself. The brat is good. If only she worked faster.

“It’ll do. It’s not extraordinary work, but i’ll take it because it’s not the most important work that needed to be done.” You stopped sucking the blood from your hand and looked at him when he went silent. “Tch, use your words. Ask for a bandage or something.” He walked over to his desk and pulled out a white roll of gauze.

“Let me see.” He unstuck the beginning of the roll and returned to his spot next to you. “I can do it, sir.” You reached your undamaged hand toward the roll he held, only for him to pull it away from you. “Let me see it.” He urged, waiting for you to show him the cuts. They were surprisingly deep. You put your hand palm-up in front of you, only for him to adjust the position so that he could wrap the material around your hand correctly. The white wrapping began to turn red when it touched the blots of blood emerging from your open skin. With every layer he wrapped, less color was seen until it was just white.

Warmth was emitted through his fingers which soothed the pain in your hand a little. He let you retract your hand, watching you as you stared at the dressed wounded area. “What? Do you want me to kiss it or something?” He looked at you with an ordinary uninterested expression. Yes, please! Kiss it better. “I-I mean-“ You managed to stutter. Your cheeks flushed with heat when you realized what you had started saying. “Stop that, brat. Just stop talking.”

He walked to his desk and continued to look over the work you had done. He silently admired your considerably neat handwriting. It was as if you had typed it—the letters being all equally sized, no streaks out of line. “Right. I’m sorry.” You whispered, walking in the direction of the door. His words hit harder than usual for some reason. It was nothing to be upset about, yet you felt an unwelcome lump start forming in your throat. Maybe it’s you finally realizing that your love for him would never be reciprocated. Just being in the same room as him in that moment had you feeling more vulnerable than ever.

You mustered up the small amount of stability you had in your voice and said,”Well, if you don’t need me to do anything else, I’ll be on my way.” “That will be all.” He mumbled, not looking at you. No thank you? You saluted and left the room.

Unlike times before, Levi didn’t make your heart soar, he made it sink to the pit of your stomach, despite him touching you more than he ever has. It made you question your reasons for loving him so much. Is he worth the confusion your heart goes through when talking to the different versions of him? You’re not sure.

—

Weeks went by with you treating Levi like he was anyone but the person you longed to be with before. You still gave him the respect he deserved as your Captain, but you only talked to him when he talked to you or when you needed to deliver something to him from another one of your superiors. When he ordered you to do something, you would simply give him an affirmation and walk away. No small talk or questions. You didn’t smile like you usually did for him, and your heart wasn’t beating erratically when you accepted the duties he assigned to you.

Levi caught on to this act of yours when he started missing the way your doe eyes lingered on his as he talked to you. Now you would barely look him in the eyes. He missed the way you would try to make him laugh with a joke that had you in pain from laughing so hard. Now you only talked to him about work-related matters. He missed the way you stuttered after saying something dumb. Your voice is so steady now, and your words are chosen more carefully. He missed the clear adoration you had for him. He missed you.

Another day passed, and Levi had no excuse to talk to you. He didn’t have orders to give you. At that moment, he would’ve done anything to go back to when he would scowl at you as you laughed to your heart’s content. He would do anything to see you for more than two minutes. He would have taken the boring job of completing a pile of paperwork if it meant you were the one giving it to him and he would be able to brush his fingers against yours.

His head rested in his hands, frustrated with his inability to stomp on his pride and just walk over to wherever you were. He missed you so, so much, but he would never let you know that you were the best part of his days.

A knock came from the other end of his door. “Name and business.” He stated with his head still in his hands. “Y/LN Y/N, sir.” He perked up at the sound of your voice and he raised his head, quickly fixing the strands of hair that had moved out of place. “Commander Erwin asked me to get your signature for an important document.” He walked over and opened the door for you. “Come in.”

You entered his office and stood in front of his desk until further instruction. He shut the door quietly and walked to where you were.

“You can set the document down on my desk. I need to get a new container of ink. I’ll be back shortly.” He went to his bedroom, which connected to his office, and went through a drawer that seemed to have different supplies in it. He returned with a clear glass cube filled with black ink. He sat in his chair and read the document quickly before scribbling a beautiful rendition of his name onto the blank line at the bottom of the page.

“Here.” He flipped the paper so that it was upright to you. “Thank you, Captain.” You took the document and saluted. As you were about to leave, Levi’s voice stopped you in your tracks. “Y/N, can you sit for a minute?” He asked, hoping you weren’t in a rush to get those documents to Erwin.

“Of course, sir.” You answer, sitting in the chair in front of his desk.

He looked slightly sad. His eyes were completely softened, eyebrows curving inward slightly. “Why haven’t you come to see me as often as you used to?” All you could think was, does it really matter whether you see me or not? “I’ve been busy. I have duties entrusted to me by others. You are not my only superior, Captain Levi.” You were okay with giving him a piece of your mind in the most respectful way possible.

“I understand that, but why are you choosing to completely avoid me unless the subject is work?” Can you be anymore needy? “I’m not.” You simply respond. That is the ugliest lie you have ever told. You are avoiding him. You are keeping yourself busy to avoid even thinking about him.

“I see. I never took you for such a shitty liar.” You suppressed the need to roll your eyes. No answer will satisfy him until he hears what he wants to hear. “Well, i’m sorry to disappoint you, sir. I’ll try not to make a habit of it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Commander Erwin said that this document needed to be returned as soon as possible.” You stood up from the wooden chair and saluted before exiting your Captain’s office.

—

The sky went dark without you realizing. You were busy all day and after the talk you had with your Captain, you were both physically and mentally tired.

As you arrived to your bedroom, not caring for the darkness that veiled your room, you let yourself fall backwards onto your bed as exhaustion creeped through your body. With your eyes closed, you lifted each of your legs and removed your boots one by one before tossing them to the ground. “Why does he suddenly care about the amount of times he’s seen me throughout the day?” You whisper to yourself as if someone would hear you.

The sound of knocking fills your ears and you pretend to have fallen asleep. “Y/N, are you in there? Are you awake?” Not now. Please. You stay silent, hoping Levi will leave you alone.

Three more knocks sound against your door. After a few seconds of complete silence, you hear the doorknob turn and the door swings open, shutting after Levi steps inside the room. “Tch, you didn’t even take your straps off.” He whispers in consideration to your ‘sleeping’ state. He sits next to you on your bed and watches your chest mimic dormant breathing. He reaches for the strap that loops around your chest and undoes the small buckle. Your chest was released and moved more freely.

By now, your act of pretending to sleep was no longer an act. You were breathing in a set rhythm through your nose.

He softly and slowly pulled your arms out of the leather that enclosed around them. You stirred a little bit before returning to the position you were in previously, on your back.

“I’m going to take care of you, my Y/N. I don’t want your skin to bruise.” He whispered while he undid your belt buckle and lowered down to work on the bands that curled tightly around your thighs. He slowly slid the rest of the leather down your calves and off completely. He got off of your bed and organized your things neatly so that you would find them easily in the morning.

“Y/N.” Levi called, shaking you softly by your arm. When you didn’t respond, he tried again. You opened your eyes slowly and squinted, furrowing your brows when you noticed someone else was there with you. “What?” You grumble, annoyed at the inability to go back to sleep. “Sorry, I need to talk to you.” That voice. You tried to spring up off the bed to salute respectfully to your Captain.

He grabbed your forearms and brought you back down to your bed. “Calm down. You don’t have to be so formal after hours.” You weren’t even asleep ten minutes, yet the drowsiness embodying you was extreme.

“Do you want me to light a candle? It’s pretty dark in here. I wasn’t expecting you or anyone else to come see me this late.” “No. I think the dark will allow courage to seep through me better.” You raised a brow in confusion. “Courage? Since when do you lack courage, Captain-“ “Levi. Just Levi between us.” “Le..vi?” He nodded with reassurance. “Since when do you lack courage in anything, Levi.”

He put his hand on your shoulder, surprised when you tensed up against the contact. He didn’t pull his hand away at the gesture, though. “I hate having to admit that I have a weakness for you, believe me, but you’re invading my thoughts every day, all the time.” This isn’t like you, Captain.

“I’m not adjusting well to this change between us. I miss the way you used to be with me. Even when I didn’t reciprocate the energy you gave off, you always managed to make feel better inside. Now that you’ve distanced yourself from me, I feel even more dead inside than usual.” His fingers stroked the fabric on your shoulder of your white button-up shirt.

“I can’t be that way with you anymore. It took me a while to realize that we’re not here to make relationships that last forever. We have the hardest job anyone could ask of us—saving humanity.” You sighed, thinking of a way to prevent yourself from hurting his feelings. “Though the thought of having you by my side is delightful, I don’t think I can go back to worshiping the ground you walk on like I did before. Our relationship should remain that of superior and subordinate.”

Levi’s head lowered. The agony he was feeling in his chest was excruciating. This last attempt to get you was sadly his final one.

“Then I have one final request.” You couldn’t help but wonder what he would want from you that he can’t get from anyone else. “Can I kiss you?” His hand that was set on your shoulder slowly made it’s way to caress your cheek. His eyes softened at the familiar look in your eyes that peered into his soul. Though you felt you should have removed his hand from the side of your face, the warmth was comforting.

“If you don’t feel anything, I promise I’ll swallow my feelings for you and leave you be. We’ll be strictly comrades, no emotional feelings involved.” He swiped your soft skin with his thumb, eyes locking with yours as he seeks a response that isn’t developed yet.

Finally. “Only once.” You whisper. He nods in acknowledgement of your instruction. His left hand attaches to your waist while his right finds your cheek again. You tremble at the foreign feeling of someone’s touch on a part of you that wasn’t an arm, a shoulder, or your back. His eyes never left yours as he slowly leaned in. God, he smelled so good. The aroma was dangerously attractive. You hoped to never come across someone that smelled the same way, that way his smell would only make you think of him.

The closer he got, the deeper his fingertips dug into your side, as if trying to pierce holes through your shirt to feel your skin.

Darkness, light—you saw both somehow. The entanglement of lips on lips was a good feeling that both of you felt mutually. He held on for as long as he could, not wanting this moment to ever end. After all, this is the first, and possibly the last time he would ever be this close to you again.

You tried to break the kiss but struggled to when you felt Levi pulling you back to connect again. It wasn’t enough for him. It was never going to be enough.

“Le..v…” You murmured indistinctly, stopping the movements from your lips completely. “No. Please…” He mumbled against your lips continuing his one-sided kiss.

It felt desperate, which was strange coming from a man like Levi who’s never begged for anything from anyone. “Come on. Kiss me.” He said with his lips pressed against yours. The feeling was undeniably good. It brought life back to the heart that stopped longing for specifically his affection.

You started moving your lips again, synchronizing quickly. His bangs tickled your forehead, causing your lips to twitch upwards.

He picked you up and placed you on his lap. Just as you were about to reach for his hair, he broke the kiss.

“I want to touch your skin, Y/N. Not in an inappropriate manner, I just need proof that this isn’t just another one of my dreams. I can’t risk going insane over another night of me just fantasizing about being your one. This shirt is the only thing standing between my hands and your soft skin—reality. I won’t touch you like that if you don’t want me to, though. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” His mouth said something, but as always, his eyes said something else. They were begging for you to allow him to feel you. His hands rested on your hips. Maybe this was going too far. What if you did let him touch your bare skin, and it progressed into something inappropriate?

With that single doubt in your mind, you responded to his request with,“Unbutton my shirt, then.” The light in his eyes was shining brighter than you had ever seen. He was visually shocked at your consent. It was clear that he was grateful to have you that night in his hold.

His hands lowered to where your shirt tucked into your pants and pulled out the fabric. Before he could move onto the buttons, he searched your expression for any signs of doubt or uncertainty. None that he could see—you were that good at keeping your thoughts to yourself.

He undid every button, not missing his chance to sneak in a brush of his fingertips here and there, on your collar bone or your sternum.

Soon enough your shirt was left wide open, revealing your black bra and newly formed goosebumps brought on by the cold wind. You turned away from Levi, flustered by his eyes on your exposed torso.

He tugged on one of the loose halves of your shirt, signaling for your attention. “Eyes on me.”Goosebumps resurfaced your skin when his knuckles brushed against your stomach. “You’re beautiful.” His soothing voice assured you as his eyes explored the unknown sight.

You were brought close once again, his lips dying to return to where he knew they belonged. Goosebumps rampaged through your body as he pulled your body closer to him by your waist. The feeling of his hands wrapped around your bare sides was absurd. You were now up against his chest. His hands traveled from your sides to your back to keep you pushed against him.

If you had to remain like this for the rest of your life, you’d do it in a heartbeat, if possible, less time.

Though it wasn’t meant to be sexual, he was leaving you breathless—quite literally. His touch made your heart pound in your chest, which he surprisingly didn’t feel, even with you pressed so tightly against him. By the sound of it, he was breathless as well.

“Mmm…Levi.” You mumbled. “Hmm?” He hummed not stopping his lips from devouring yours. “We have…to…mmm...breathe…at some point.” He snickered, smiling slightly, giving you the chance to break your lips away from his. You were able to see a slight shade of pink on his cheeks in the moonlight. Whether it was from the suffocation or the steamy moment remained a mystery.

Soft pants came from both of you, and though he let go of your lips, you weren’t fully released from his grasp. His ring and middle fingers on each hand poked at your back dimples, while his thumbs did light circular motions on the sides of your abdominal area.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, eyes glistening in the moonlight.

“I need to know what you intend to do with me, Captain. From now to…” You sigh heavily, not finding it as easy as you thought it would be to fit this conversation into the moment after what had just gone down.

Levi picks up on how tense you’ve become, seeing how stressed you suddenly look. “Hey, I’m going to listen to every word you have to say. I’m all ears, right now.” He squeezes your waist gently.

“Okay, what i’m trying to say is…I don’t want to have to mend my wounded heart every time you push me away.” You look toward the window, looking at how a cloud slowly moves in a direction that makes it collide with another cloud. To be honest, it kind of reminded you of you and Levi. The way your lives collided with each other’s, then separated, only to find each other again.

He held your chin softly between his thumb and index fingers, shifting your gaze back to him. He didn’t say anything but nodded for you to keep going. “I also don’t want to have to apologize for fulfilling my everyday duties that can lead to days of not being able to see you.” His hand released your chin and returned to the spot it was on previously, your side. It was as if he was comforting you and himself at the same time. He was hoping you wouldn’t get off, leaving him incomplete without your body weight on him.

You did exactly as he feared, almost as if you read his mind. You wanted this conversation to be as serious as possible, no distractions. You released your grasp on his shoulders and slowly began lifting yourself off of his lap. He subconsciously began letting go of your body, until he caught himself and tightened his grip, bringing you back to where you were, on his lap.

“Levi? What are you-“ “I want—no, I need you, Y/N. You know how bad it’s been on my end since you stopped talking to me like we’re the two closest people on earth? It’s been hell. Fucking hell.” His hands brushed past your sides and pushed on your back, bringing you to an embrace. Your chin landed on his shoulder and his face nuzzled into your neck. Your arms stayed by your side contrary to his which wrapped around you, brushing past the straps of your bra and settling on your upper back. You felt breaths of hot air tickle your neck as he kept talking.

“You have no clue how sad I’ve been. This is what I need from you. I don’t care if it’s something occasional. I don’t care if I only get to see you once a week, month, or year. I don’t fucking care at all. I just want you, Y/N. Please. Please, just hold me.” You could hear his calm breathing close to your ear. You lifted your arms and wrapped them around him. One hand caressed the back of his head, and the other held the mid-section of his back.

He was breathing in your scent discreetly. Black hair tickles your bare shoulder, exposed by your sagging button-up shirt. You ran your fingers through his locks of hair, smoothing down any strands that stood out.

“This feels right.” He mumbled before placing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. “I want to feel your heartbeat and your warmth against me like this whenever I can.” His lips continued to brush against your skin slowly.

Minutes went by, not a word was spoken. When you tried to escape his caging hold to continue your conversation, he would just pull you close again nuzzling back into your neck. He was being really clingy tonight—not that you were complaining, it was just a odd.

“We can keep talking like this.” He mumbled. “Okay.” You whispered running your hand across his undercut.

“Are you sure you want a relationship where we won’t have every minute of the day together? I know it’ll be hell for me.” You could feel him smiling slightly against your neck. “Yes, Y/N. I know we won’t have much time in the day together, but we haven’t been taking nights into consideration.” Goosebumps crawled throughout your body when you felt his lips latch onto your neck again.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Shit. Shit. Shit. Relax. “I’m willing to be even more nocturnal for you. I also wouldn’t mind waking up next to you every morning.” He dragged his thumb across the damp spot on your neck where his lips rested before. “That s-sounds good.” You stutter noticeably. “What’s wrong?” He holds your face in his hands, clearly unable to fake concern. A smirk tugs at his lips. This man knows what he’s doing.

“Nothing. I’m okay.” You assure with a soft smile. “Okay, just making sure. You know…” He starts leaning in again, aiming for your neck. He knows your weak spot now, and you can’t even hide it.

“…I really like…” He kisses the sensitive skin lightly, basking in the way you shudder. “…spending time with you like this. How about you?” As you open your mouth to answer, he leans in again.

“I…fuck.” You grab onto his arm as he nibbles on the flesh that became more and more sensitive with every second that his lips spent on it. “Hmm?” He hummed against your skin. “I didn’t catch that.” He tilted your head to his left to give him more room. More room to litter you with his markings. “I do…” You inhale sharply when he bites the area under the bruising skin he just sucked on. “…too.” He soothes the imprinted skin with his index and middle fingers.

“Good. Tell me, sweet girl, what’s your favorite time of day?” The movement of his fingers slowed, as he pressed gently on the sore parts. His gaze focused intensely on your peaceful features as sighs escaped your lips with every delicate prod of his fingers. He hoped you would say nighttime, knowing he wouldn’t be able to give you all the daytime with him that you wished for. Also, nighttime would be the time he would spend with you, making sure you were feeling every good thing you could feel. Happiness, pleasure, excitement, pleasure, love, satisfaction, security, domination, care, submission. You know? The good things.

“Nighttime. That’s my favorite time of day.” He smiled, satisfied with your answer. “It’s my favorite now, too.” The movement of his fingers on your neck stopped. He looked outside at the moon, remembering the important work he left behind when he decided to look for you. “I should get going.” You frowned slightly which he quickly took notice of. “I know, I wish I didn’t have to, but I ditched a lot of my work to come find you.”

You dragged your thumb across his half-swollen lips before closing the space between you two and kissing him once more. You released him and said in a whisper,“I understand. Thank you for being here with me tonight.” You got off of his lap and transitioned to a cross-legged position on your bed. He caressed your cheek in an endearing manner, before saying,”I’m glad things are the way they are for us now.” He let you go, and began walking to your door. You fixed your shirt so that you looked presentable again.

“Levi, wait.” “Yes?” He asked, holding onto the doorknob. “Did you take the straps from my uniform off of me?” He let out a low chuckle. “Yes, I did. They would have bruised your beautiful skin if I hadn’t taken them off.” “I could have done it myself, but thank you for that.” You felt cared for. It was such a soft concept to think about. He nodded and continued his exit, a small smile on his face as he shut the door behind him.

I’m the only one who should be wrapped around you and leaving marks in those areas at night.

#aot #attack on titan #captain levi #levi ackerman #shingeki no kyojin #levi x reader #aot x reader #levi ackerman x y/n #fanfic #levi fic #levi x y/n #levi

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

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You Can Hear It In The Silence

Summary: Sneaking around can be fun, but sometimes the silence is just too quiet, or falling in love with your best friend.

Pairing: Spencer x Fem Reader (SMUT) MINORS DNI

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: Smut Minors DNI (It’s smut, nothing kinky but very romantic and soft) oral (both receiving), kissing, lovebites and tame scratching, penetrative sex, unprotected sex in a committed relationship(like last time, let me know if I missed anything)

Author’s Note: Minors please DNI, I have a lot of other fluff pieces that are totally acceptable for you guys to read. I hope that this isn’t too schmaltzy because that just gives me agita. This is based off You are In Love by Taylor Swift and maybe a little bit of Dress

You Can Hear It In The Silence

It’s a blurry line, going from best friends to dating. There’s nothing like playing that dangerous game of stolen glances and surreptitious touches in a dark room. Eyes ranking over figures decked out in soft cardigans and tweed blazers or black dress pants and silk blouses, desperately wanting to see more, touch more, taste more. The senses could only sated for so long before the desire for more bubbles to the surface.

Across the table, Spencer watches as Y/N sips the red wine JJ brought over. It’s hard to not watch her; to not completely hone in on the way her eyes are light with laughter, or the way her hair cascades down her shoulder, blending into the dark green color of her dress. Spencer kills himself trying to not look at her because he knows if he does, he’s done. Or rather, he knows that if he lets himself love her openly, he’ll only end up hurting themselves. So, he sits there, in Derek’s backyard trying to pretend that he’s not staring at Y/N. The only thought that comforts him is holding on to the idea that Y/N is doing the same thing. He supposes that’s what happens to relationships that blossom from the shadows of secrecy. In their attempts to not hurt others, they end up almost destroying themselves.

He decides to pretend to find Garica’s cuckoo clock fascinating. He stares at the wacky colored birds and swinging arms entirely too long. In the corner of his eye Spencer watches the next couple of moments unfold. JJ and Garcia drunkenly bounce over to Y/N; they put their arms around her in a fit of giggles and smiles. Garcia’s arm extends around JJ’s neck and she lets out a loud announcement for a “Selfie” or rather what Spencer can only assume is a photograph of the three of them. The phone, even though Spencer does have some disdain for the invention, sure does serve its purpose. In all the light rays bouncing around and the blinding flash, pure magic happens. Spencer is aware that it makes him sound like a total sap, but he’s jealous of the phone. He’s jealous that his eidetic memory may only allow him to remember the Y/N’s notes in the margins of her case file or the annual “Happy Birthday, Genius” on a Hallmark card once a year. What he would give to just be able to capture her in the light of company, not hanging on to fleeting memories in the shadows.

Lost in his thoughts, Spencer does not notice an unusually drunk Unit Chief wandering over to the empty chair next to him. All of his awkwardness, Spencer is not sure if he should acknowledge his drunken boss or stop staring at his secret girlfriend. It’s at time like these that Spencer resorts to reciting Crime and Punishment or 100 Years of Solitude either seem ironically appropriate.

“Reid,” Hotch says, leans in close, far too close for the usual uptight and business-like Aaron Hotchner that Spencer has grown to know.

“Hotch?” Spencer answers, his voice laced with trepidation and anxiety.

“You gotta stop staring at Y/L/N. You’re gonna rat on yourselves if you don’t stop staring at her like that,” Hotch tells him, his breath might smell like whiskey, but his eyes tell Spencer that he’s a lot more sober than he seems.

“Like what?” Spencer counters, choosing to play dumb at best as he could, or at least just slightly clueless.

“That doesn’t work on me, Reid. You should stop looking at her like you love her,”

Spencer looks at his boss, at Y/N, and back at his drink. Was he seriously that transparent?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hotch. Y/N and I are-”

“Spence! Spencer!,” Y/N shouts as she practically runs over to where Spencer sits with Hotch, watching the rest of the team.

It’s like Hotch isn’t even there anymore, it’s like no one is even there. God, it might sound sappy, but Spencer doesn’t care anymore. It’s going to kill him playing it like he doesn’t care about Y/N, especially considering he’s doing a mediocre job.

“I have a really bad headache, Spence. And I need you to take me home,” Y/N asks him, and Spencer notices an eager glint in her eyes that tells him all he needs to know.

“Keep this between us please, Hotch? Just until we figure it out,” Spencer almost pleads to Hotch who answers with a dismissive wave. He leaves them there to figure out their plans to sneak out of Garcia’s undetected.

“Hotch knows? Of course you know,” Y/N says with a roll of her eyes and a quick wink at Spencer, whose growing embarrassment from the situation is only second to his excitement at the night to come.

“Spence, go say goodbye for me? I’m going to head to your car. You really gotta sell that I’m feeling sick,” Y/N tells him, standing a little too close and dipping her hand a little too low on Spencer’s waist for this to be a friendly gesture to any of their friends that might pass by. She takes a peak around the room and reaches her hand into Spencer’s pocket. He gives her a startled glance, but they both know that the thrill of sneaking around like this is kind of worth it.

As Y/N ducks out of the room, Spencer makes his way to where Emily, JJ, Garcia, and Derek sit at the kitchen table taking shots of a clear liquid Spencer thinks is tequila. Great, Spencer thinks. Him and his secret girlfriend, who as far as the team knows is his best friend, have to sneak out of Garica’s place in front of a pile of loud drunks. Spencer feels his phone buzz, altering him that there is a very impatient Y/N waiting in the car for him

“Uh, Garcia, Y/N’s got a really bad headache. I think it’s an onset of one of her migraines that she gets from red wine,” Spencer lies through his teeth, completely terrified from the way Emily glares at him. It’s like she can see right through him.

“So you’re taking her home?” Derek asks, speeding along the process and for that Spencer considers himself forever grateful.

“Yeah, you know we are neighbors after all,” Spencer reasons.

The awkward silence in the kitchen is only interrupted by JJ’s quiet humming to the song that plays in the background. Derek and Emily share a knowing glance as Penelope starts pouring the next round of shots.

“I’ll see you guys on Monday, Y/N is waiting for me in the car,” Spencer says without a further glance to his very perceptive colleagues.

“You go take care of Y/N, Pretty Boy!” Derek yells as Spencer walks out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him, perhaps a little too eagerly.

When Spencer gets to his car, he stops himself before opening the door. In the light from the lamppost, Spencer can see his reflection in the back window of his car. He runs a hand through his hair and attempts to fix the crookedness of his tie. Smiling to himself, Spencer gets into the driver’s seat of his car and is greeted by Y/N, who even in the dark makes him feel alive.

“Hey,” he offers nervously. Even though they’ve been together loads of times, there is a tingle of intimidation that settles in his heart everytime she looks at him.

Never the one to shy down from a confrontation, Y/N leans in and places her hand gracefully on Spencer’s neck and her face looms close to his ear. Her voice is low and seductive and Spencer swears he can feel himself melt at the feeling of her being this close and him able to touch her. He brings his hands up to rest, one on her upper thigh, placed bravely under the slip of her silk dress, and the other draws circles around her elbow..

“Spencer, I need you to drive us home,” Y/N tells him a voice that Spencer knows he could never deny.

He doesn’t answer her, because the silence speaks for itself. They can hear all they need to know in the silence. The quiet way that their bodies seem to just gravitate to each other. Spencer’s hand cups Y/N’s thigh and her fingers graze the back of Spencer’s neck. It’s those quiet touches that tell the other what they are too afraid to say aloud.

The quietness settles between them even as they pull into the parking spot. It’s like they’re dance partners, completely a routine of sneaking in the shadows effortlessly. Or like they’re actors in a play, pretending that they’re not dying to play the role in reality. It’s a dangerous game that they play. But all of that is forgotten, pushed to the side as Spencer opens the door and the curtain rises.

Y/N initiates the kiss, pushing Spencer down on the couch. She straddles his waist, her silky green dress spills over her thighs and Spencer is in awe of how the color contrasts against her bare skin. He’s not an artist, but looking at her he’s sure he has laid his eyes on the most beautiful being he’s ever seen. He might not believe in magic, it’s all just science and mind tricks, but he’s nothing but transfixed at the women sitting in his lap.

“Spencer, please get these clothes off,” Y/N commands in a voice that gives away how badly she wants him.

“Wait your turn, Y/N” Spencer says in a teasing tone that brings out Y/N’s sly smile.

“Then do something!” Y/N shouts, getting even more impatient than she was in the car.

“You’re so beautiful like this, I-I mean you’re always so beautiful, but you’re just so-” Spencer stammers over his words, and the only thing he’s sure of is that his insecurity is the biggest turn off. But Y/N continues to surprise him each and everyday, and tonight is no less.

“Slow down, baby. It’s just me. There’s no need to go so fast right now. We have all night,” Y/N soothes, craning down her neck to plant wet kisses down Spencer’s neck. She’s probably leaving marks, Spencer thinks, but his desire to be seen as her’s outweighs the teasing from Morgan on Monday.

The fact that it’s Y/N perched in his lap, kissing down his neck and wiggling around in a way that she can feel everything does nothing to fend off the adrenaline that Spencer’s high off of.

“I need to see your face,” Spencer says holding her by the shoulders. He reaches around her as she leans back to unzip her dress. She stands so it falls to the ground in a pool of dark green fabric. Her body is out in the open to him and Spencer’s flushed face must be on fire by now.

“I need to see your face, Spencer,” Y/N says in a way that Spencer knows that he can’t disobey.

There’s that silence again. That loud silence, filled with lines of unsaid love poems and quiet love songs. The silence that says the perfect things that Y/N deserves to hear, but Spencer is too scared to say. Three months too soon to say, I love you, Spencer tells himself. His mind spins so fast that he feels guilty for neglecting the naked woman standing before him.

“If you’re gonna fuck me Spence, we’re gonna do it in a bed. I love you and all but this couch is not going to handle me when I get a hold of you,” Y/N says as she runs off into his bedroom, leaving Spencer dumbfounded in her wake.

Spencer swallows down his fears and anxieties. He sheds his clothes off during his walk to the bedroom. Y/N lies down on his bed and Spencer won’t let the silence speak for him this time.

“How are you this perfect, Y/N?” Spencer asks as he crawls in between Y/N’s legs. He rests his hands on her upper thighs and looks at her like expects her to answer his question. Spencer dips his fingers down to the place Y/N wants him the most. In the low light from Spencer’s lamp he can see how his fingers glisten.

“You took too long at Penny’s Spence, I had to start without you,” Y/N explains, a slight flush to her cheeks reminds Spencer that she too is just as affected by him as he is by her.

“You touched yourself in my car?” Spencer asks pressing a firm kiss on each side of Y/N hip bones. He dances his long fingers up to her stomach, where her own hands sit as if she’s shielding this part from him.

“Yeah,” Y/N tells him, slightly breathless from the small kisses Spencer places on her stomach and back down to the softest part of her inner thighs. He tells himself that he’s got to slow himself down before he loses it at the site Y/N wriggling and moaning at his smallest touches.

“I left you a present in your glove compartment, Spence,”

“Huh, who knew I had such a naughty girl,” Spencer says with an unfamiliar bravery in his voice. Unsurprisingly, Y/N picks up on this and decides to see how far she can take it.

“I have needs, Spencer. Do you think you can take care of them?”

Spencer doesn’t respond, but ducks his head down to drag his tongue across her clit, feeling how wet she is. He refuses to break eye contact and realizes how obsessed he would get if she’d let him do this for the rest of his life. Spencer’s eyes carefully watch how Y/N’s facial expressions morph in intense pleasure. It’s like a science experiment. When he plunges his tongue into her, she closes her eyes. But when he blows softly on her inner thighs then leaves hot, wet kisses her fingers come up to latch onto his scalp. He peers at her and waits for the way she moans when he slips one, then two fingers in her. He curls them up in such a way that he knows drives her crazy.

“Oh my God, Spencer! Please,” Y/N cries, twisting in the sheets. He continues at the pace he’s set, chasing the blissful feeling of her coming undone because of him. The moments leading up to her release, Y/N tears her hand away from Spencer’s head and connects her palm into his. Holding her hand, Spencer whispers praises and presses small kisses into her pussy.

“Come here and kiss me now, baby. I need you,” Y/N whispers, grasping onto whatever parts of Spencer she could touch. Her fingers move to cup his face and she holds him like he’s made of glass. In between the soft sheets and even softer touches, Spencer knows what it’s like to feel precious. Y/N cranes her head forward to attack Spencer’s neck with kisses. She relishes in the soft and supple skin of his neck. Once again, Spencer finds himself not caring that she’s going to leave marks.

“How are you this perfect, Spencer?” Y/N asks Spencer, who for the first time in his life does not have an answer for a question.

He closes his and lets himself float around in the fuzzy feeling in his brain. All he can focus on is Y/N’s mouth. The way her praises make him believe in forever and the way her kisses litter his cheeks, eyes, chest.

“You’re the perfect one, Y/N. I don’t even compare,” Spencer says as he watches Y/N twist underneath him and somehow maneuver herself so he lies beneath her.

“None of that, Spencer” She tells him sharply. Y/N drags her nails down Spencer’s chest, not leaving scratches, just light discoloration. Her head and mouth is dangerously close to where his hardened cock lays leaking between his legs.

She grasps around the base and just gingerly touches him that Spencer is sure he’s going to be blinded from the pleasure. Suddenly he feels almost self conscious. His anxiety is not unknown to Y/N, who lays a comforting hand in his, mirroring her earlier motion.

“You don’t have to Y/N. I mean if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to think just because I’m your boyfriend and I did it for you-” Spencer rushes out, terrified of what Y/N’s reaction will be.

“Look at me, Spencer. Do you want me to suck your cock, baby? Look at me,” Y/N says in a voice that Spencer doesn’t recognize and doesn’t dare ignore.

“Yes,” he breathes out, his voice shakes as he feels Y/N’s mouth take in his tip. He hisses at the sensation. The smallest movements set him on fire. Spencer’s large hands come up to hover over Y/N’s shoulder blades.

“Don’t be quiet, baby. I want to hear you,” Y/N says before she deepens her hold of. She releases him to glide her younger down the side, sending shockwaves of pure pleasure in Spencer’s entire being.

“You like that, Spencer. You like my mouth on your cock, baby?” Y/N eggs him on.

Even though he’s lost the ability to speak, Spencer’s moans bounce around the room. He knows he’s a whimpering mess below Y/N, but he’s chasing the feeling of release shamelessly.

“Y/N, Y/N. Baby, you gotta stop. Or I’m gonna cum right now,” Spencer chants, tightening his grip on Y/N’s hand. He forces himself to calm down to focus on Y/N, but it’s a little difficult when all Y/N is focusing on him.

Spencer sat up, his back against the headboard, and he pulled Y/N forward so she rested in his lap. She grins up at him, and Spencer can feel his heart squeeze at the look. She’s going to be the death of him, but at least he’ll die a happy man.

Much to Y/N’s pleasure, Spencer lets out a lewd moan as she grinds down, pressing her wet pussy to his throbbing cock. He feels a little ridiculous getting so worked up and she’s not even inside him yet.

“Please, Y/N. I need you, I’m not going to last long,” Spencer utters. He says her name like a prayer, it’s a hymn to her ears.

“I got you, Spence,” she tells him, sheathing his length into her.

Spencer pulls Y/N in closer so that their chests are flush together. Among the chorus of moans and mumbles of praise, Spencer reaches down to hold Y/N’s hand. He’s not a believer in soulmates. He was sure that he’d never find his match. Never find the one person who’d share his dreams and become his dream. But sitting there, Spencer cannot deny that he’s tethered to Y/N. Their hands link together and mouths refuse to let go, searching for any exposed skin.

“Spencer,” Y/N groans, leaning her forehead into his. She looks into his eyes and Spencer dares to wonder if her eyes are glassy because of him. It’s magic how someone like her can make a believer, a dreamer out of a man afraid of living.

Spencer closes his eyes in pure ecstasy. Y/N sucks along the tender skin of his chest, causing him to flush at her ministrations. He can feel her tighten inside him, so he snakes his fingers down to stroke her clit, exciting moans and more fervent kisses along his chest and up to his ear.

“Just like that, Spence. You’re so perfect my sweet boy,”

“Y/N, cum on me, cum on me baby,” Spencer cries, finally able to let go as he feels himself come undone underneath Y/N.

Spencer’s whimpers and constant moans set Y/N over the edge. She mewled into Spencer’s shoulder, kissing and nipping the sensitive skin. As her orgasm rakes over her body, Y/N tugs on Spencer’s hair, suddenly quite happy he’s keeping it almost shoulder length.

Both of them feel their bodies come back to life, their breathing steadies and their hearts seem to beat a little bit slower. Gone were the array of moans. Gone was the burning desire to chase their release. Gone was the sound of praise. All that stands between Spencer and Y/N is the silence. The silence that says quite enough for them.

The silence that’s braver than Spencer.

He’s quiet as Y/N flops to his side, entirely spent and tired from the company of friends and strenuous activities that just transpired.

“I know what you’re thinking, Spence” She offers, turning to her side to look at him. He gives her a straight faced smile, unsure of how to approach the subject. He knows that she knows what he’s thinking about, sometimes even before he’s thinking about it.

“I meant it, Spencer. I really do love you,” Y/N professes, finally breaking the silence. Spencer swallows as his eyes scan the girl before him.

“You’re my best friend, Y/N,” Spencer says quietly, and suddenly realizes that it’s probably not what a girl who just confessed her love for you wants to hear. But he knows that Y/N understands-- she understands him.

“What I mean is, I want midnight coffee nights with you. I want small talk and deep conversations and everything in between,” Spencer says quickly. “I want you in secret Y/N, but I want you in public too,”

Spencer watches his confession settle into Y/N’s face. He’s scared for the rejection, for the daylight to break on his dream.

“I’ve waited for you to say that for so long, Spence,” She says, leaning in to close the gap between their naked bodies. Spencer pulls her in to rest his chin on top of Y/N’s head. It’s comforting being there, feeling her heartbeat in the tune of his own. He feels safe, wrapped up around in Y/N.

They’re sweaty and smell like sex, but Spencer doesn’t care. His hair is messy and he’s exhausted, but Spencer doesn’t care. His neck and chest are littered with lovebites and marks, but Spencer doesn’t care. After months of running around in the shadows, months of letting the unsaid say what he desperately wants to say, months of being patient but dying with anticipation, Spencer doesn’t care. Spencer doesn’t care because on Monday morning, Y/N won’t drop his hand when they walk into the bullpen.

THANK YOU FOR READING!!

Taglist: @calm-and-doctor

Comment or send in an ask if you’d like to be tagged (please specify if you don’t want to be tagged in NSFW, but make sure your age is in your bio)

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fics #dr spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader

780 notes · View notes

razorblade180 · 3 years

Text

Actor AU 3

The previous one<-

Penny:*dancing on set*

Nora:Someone seems happy.

Penny:🎶First episode I don’t have to wear props! 🎶 This is so liberating!

Nora:You read the script right?

Penny:Just let me vibe!

xxxx

Neo:*hanging off ledge*

Cinder:.....Long live queen. *pushes her off*

Ruby:Yo! Let’s add a lion king character!

Director:No!

xxxx

Ironwood,Broadcasting:.....

Everyone:.....

Ironwood:*leans it closely* You have one hour...or I poison Gotham Harbor.

Yang:Pay up Weiss! I told you he’d say it!

Weiss:Damn it!

Ruby:*laughing hysterically.

xxxx

Adam:*sips tea* Now you’re probably wondering why I’m on set for V8 when I have not scene or relevance. The answer is simple.

Neo:*hits Yang of the edge*

Blake:Yaaaaang-

*faint laughing offset*

Blake.....*snickers* You asshole, I was in the zone!

Adam:I’m just adding to the tension!

Yang:*hanging from harness* You should’ve yelled “Lionized!!!!!”

Adam:Oh that would’ve been great!

Blake:You two are the worst!

xxxx

Right after Cinder stabs Penny

Jaune:Penny!!!! H-Hold on!

Penny:J-Jaune? I don’t...I don’t feel so g-good... hehe, this...*tearing up* this really hurts...

Jaune:*crying* Don’t speak! My semblance, I’ll...I

Penny:No...don’t. No time, but....there’s still something I need you t-to do. Cinder...can’t get the power and the relics. *reaches for blade*

Jaune:W-What?! No, I....I can’t-

Penny:It’s okay Jaune. *smiles* Everything is...gonna be okay.

Jaune:*raising bl-

Director:Cut!

Jaune:Huh?

Penny:Hmm? *sits up* Oh no, did I miss a line?

Director:*points to Cinder*

They turn to see Weiss comforting the the woman with a hug while trying not to laugh at the situation.

Penny:What happened!?

Weiss:She’s crying over the scene!

Penny:What!? *runs over*

Cinder:I am so sorry I ruined take! You were doing so well. Too well! Ugh, god damnit!

Penny:Awww you know I’m fine right? Come here! *hugs her*

Weiss:Cinder fall everyone, the biggest teddy bear around. *wipping eyes*

Jaune:You’re crying too!?

Weiss:I am the second biggest teddy bear around.

xxxx

Jaune:We have to go!!!

Winter:*points at Cinder*....Sleep with one eye open.

Director:Cut! Why!?

Cinder:Hahahaha!

Winter:I couldn’t help myself.

Director:Be angry!

Bloop!

Winter:*glares* The next time I see you I swear, I’ll have your head!

Director:Less angry!

Cinder:That one actually kinda scared me. Haha geez, Winter giving chills!

Bloop!

Winter:Can I curse?

Director:We’re already at the limit before we’d have change ratings.

Winter:Dang it! I just one F bomb!

Director:We’ll put it the gag reel.

Bloop!

Jaune:We need to go!

Winter: Tsk, *points sword* You are going to pay for everything you’ve done! So watch you fucking back...

Director:Happy?

Winter:*grinning* Yeah that felt great!

xxxxx

Bomb starts sliding slowly.

Qrow:*clenches Clover’s pin*

Bomb falls off plan set

.....

Vine and Elm:.....

Harriet:Well...boom! I guess!? For the love of- *face palms*

Qrow:....Uhhh I haha, I think hahaha- hahaha! Can we maybe tilt the plan a little less!? Oh boy! I guess someone should’ve grabbed that.

Harriet:You know what, can we keep this ending!?

Robyn: Rename the whole episode haha. “Adults watch bomb slowly fall”

Vine:Okay but I like how we’re all just waiting for it to stop, and then just tips right over! The moment it started moving I knew it was going way too fast!

Elm:Mission failed everyone. We’ll get em next time.

xxxxx

Interviewer:How do you think fans will react to this finale?

Penny:Well I can’t spoil anything for obvious reasons but I hope it resonates well. It’s fun having my character be around for a finale for once, and with so many other roles she doesn’t get interact with much. It’s been really fun.

Interviewer:Oh yeah? Who’s been best to work with?

Penny:Oooo that’s tough. My cousin, Nora, she’s been fun to interact with this volume. But uhhh I think I’ll give it to Jaune. We don’t have many scenes overall together but...it’s hard explain. I feel like between my character and his, there’s this kinda mutal headspace they have for their friends. If I had to pick a person I would say Jaune would have the ability to open up Penny in a way nobody else could.

Interviewing:Interesting, well I hope you both get more interactions and that this finale debuts well.

Penny:Thank you!

xxxxx

Winter:*dragging Ironwood off*

Emerald:....Wait, I know I do illusions, but how did the Ironwood not hear or feel the wind coming from an airship several feet away? I kicked up dirt and alerted Amber in volume 3.

Director:....Do we have time to rewri- no? Okay... just don’t think about it!

xxxxx

Nora:Someone cut the signal!

Watts: *playing Galaga* Hehehe all according to plan.

Neo:Change the tab! It’s- we see it in camera! Haha!

Watts:*strokes mustache* I know. That’s how genius I am. Cracking codes and high-scores! Muhahaha!

xxxx

Ruby:Fun fact, we have two Hound costumes. One where he’s mainly doglike and the other when he’s beating up people. But I you wonder who’s playing him under all that? *takes mask off*

Cardin:Sup.

Ruby:Forever a bully, even behind the set.

Cardin:Pfft am not.

Penny:You had a laugh tossing me!

Cardin:You don’t count, you’re family!

Penny:Ah!?

xxxxxx

Yang:*holding camera* Pssst!

Ren:*sipping coffee*???

Yang:Ready for our fight in the snow?

Ren:I can’t feel my toes! I’m gonna yell at you and then walk away.

Yang:I’ll mess up so we’ll stay here longer.

Ren:Yang! We can have a real fight in the snow right now!

Yang:Heheh, kidding. Mostly.

xxxxx

Ruby:Blake have you heard of Among Us?

Blake:Wh-what?

Ruby:Among Us. You gotta do tasks without an imposter killing you. I only bring it up because we’re rebooting the power. Someone always dies in electrical.

Blake:Ruby this is real life. Besides this way more Resident Evil, but with no- Tyrant!

Hound:*busts through window*

Ruby:Wny is it always electrical!!!?

xxxxx

Ironwood:*doing shirtless pull-ups*

Ozpin:He’s getting ready for his fight scenes. Trying to look winded but a little bulkier in the moment.

Winter:*watching Ironwood*

Ozpin:*snickering* Winter is trying to get into the mindset of having to a play a character who has to go against all that. The agony of fighting someone you looked at for so long.

Winter:You can call it like it is. I’m gawking a little.

Ozpin:She’s gawking a little.

xxxxx

Hazel:*grabs Salem*

Salem:*squeezing his biceps* Its like my entire torso. You eat a bear for breakfast?

Hazel:Oh my god.

Salem:You know this isn’t the worst way to go out. I had a good run. At least you hold me, unlike Ozma! Why didn’t you hold me like this!?

Hazel:You’re so ridiculous.

xxxxx

Set crew adjusting lighting in manor. All but one stays on.

Oscar and Penny:*waltzing underneath it*

Nora:...I like how on or off camera I personally lose the dating game while another redhead wins.

Ozpin:Which pair you talking about?

Nora:Huh?

Yang and Adam:*cracking jokes*

Nora:This is nonsense! Where’s Jaune!?

Weiss:Food run with Ruby.

Nora:Aaaaaggghhh!

455 notes · View notes

honeyhenry · 3 years

Text

Captain Confusion

A/N: Inspired by this video that makes me weep with its cuteness! I just had to write this okay 🥺🥺🥺 This is in the same universe as Homeward Bound, which happens after this story. Feel free to give it a read after this, if you haven’t already! ALSO should note that the lovely @ohmygoodie is my Sy partner in crime and without them this fic would not be made possible :)

Warning: mention of operations/hospitals, and a whole lot of fluff!

It was a simple procedure and so it hadn't worried you too much, other than the usual fears when a loved one is under the knife while in the hands of trained doctors. Sy’s hernia had been authorised for operation only five minutes into the doctor’s appointment you had all but dragged him to, and scheduled for 4 days later. Not really much time to prepare mentally, but you knew it was necessary with your big bear of a man in pain. Despite the painkillers prescribed, he was walking with a limp and groaning in bed for all the wrong reasons.

In the waiting room, you and his Ma kept busy during the 45 minute wait by looking through magazines, talking about how the Captain’s quality of life will improve, and what kind of minor jobs you’ll have him do around the house while he’s recovering as you continue to work.

“I hope the recovery isn’t as long as some people have said. I know for a fact he’ll not want to be cooped up all day. If he’s anything, he’s stubborn” you sigh, knowingly.

Ma smiles, looking at you pointedly, knowing that she is in the presence of the only other soul who knows what is best for her son. “He knows better now that his health is his wealth. He’s got a lot more riding on being well now. After all, it’s not just him he’s gotta be there for anymore.”

“Yeah, I mean I always tell him, he’s not 25 anymore. Or even 30. I’ll need you to back me up, he does anything you say. I’m his equal, you’re his Mom.”

You both laugh a little, hers warm and kind, while yours tinges with the remaining hopeful nerves of an army Captain’s wife. You don’t like not knowing about your Sy, especially since you spent all those years apart, not knowing if he was safe, or even alive. The waiting, in any capacity, is the hardest part.

You’re flipping through a random tabloid magazine, when the surgeon in charge walks through to the waiting room.

“Everything went really well with Captain Syverson. He’s coming to from the anaesthetic and asking for his Ma?”

Ma grins before sucking her teeth between her lips watching as your mouth drops. You both move from the waiting area to follow the surgeon towards where your husband is resting. You speak under your breath, only wanting Sy’s Ma to hear you; “I hope he still remembers how to grovel after this.”

Ma enters the room with you following her, arriving only a couple more corridors along from where you’d last seen him earlier that morning. He may not have asked for you but you were going to see Sy whether he wanted it or not. A grand push of the door allows it to swing open, and suddenly there he is. A little disoriented but has a large dopey smile plastered on his face as soon as he sees his Ma. His heavy head lolls to one side as he rests it on the plush hospital pillow.

“Hey Ma” he groans out as she bends over her large son to give his forehead a kiss, taking his hand in hers. He spends a moment just gazing at her for a while, the love he has for her evident on his face, as she tells him that everything went well, and that he can go home tomorrow.

It’s only after this tender mother and son moment, that he notices you.

“Ma.... why ya bringing a beautiful girl here when I’m like this...oh god I’m not wearing underwear Ma!”

His feeble attempt at trying to cover himself means that you actually end up seeing far more of him than you expected. Nothing you hadn’t seen before, but it definitely hasn't happened in front of his own mother before. The whole situation makes you blush and giggle a little as you try your best to avoid eye contact with Ma. You can only imagine the look on her face, and you don’t want to get any more involved with Sy’s naked form than you need to right now.

Rather than put you and your poor Sy through any further embarrassment, Ma speaks up.

“Oh darlin’, this is y/n. You remember her, right?”

And while he’s listening - or at least pretending to listen to his Ma fussing over him again - he’s just staring at you, gazing in awe as if you were the one to hang the stars in the sky.

“You are.... so pretty” he slurs, making you break out a genuine smile that he mirrors, glad that he was the one to make you look even more pretty.

“Well thanks handsome. How do you feel?” you perch on the edge of the bed and hold his hand. To him, the gesture feels warm and inviting - even if he doesn't know you, he recognises something about you in the comfort that you bring.

“Feel like shit. Oh fuck i said ‘shit’ in front of the lady” he whines again, scrunching his eyes closed as hangs his head in shame. It looks like he might even cry with the realisation that he’s made such a foolish impression of himself. It takes Ma shushing him and making him take a sip of juice from his bedside to calm down, dabbing his face with a cloth when his juice spills from his mouth.

“Oh Logan Daniel Syverson...what did they do to ya?” she lightly scolds as she helps clean up the mess he’s unknowingly created around him. That’s your Sy, a hurricane of mess that somehow fits into order just how he likes it.

You giggle a little more at his shameful expression, before he refocuses, giving you his undivided attention once more.

“How is it that ya know my Ma and we’ve never met? Or have we? ‘Cause I think i’d remember a face like yours”

“Well...” you start, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear to let him see your entire face, hoping it would jog his memory. As you do so, the ring on your fourth finger glints in the hospital light, and for the first time since you've entered the room, he’s noticed.

“Oh...man...knew a girl like you would be snatched up already. Whoever has the honour of being yours is a very lucky man.” He smiles softly, a wistful look in his eye, while makes you realise that you can’t wait for the drugs to leave his system, you have to remind him who you are and who he is, right this very moment.

“Sy honey... we’re married. You’re my husband, and I’m your wife. I think the drugs are making you more than a bit loopy.”

It’s his turn for his jaw to drop, his eyes are unblinking as he takes in what you’ve just said. He turns sharply - more than his doctor would have probably liked - to his Ma, and then back to you, and then his Ma again, waiting for one of you to burst out laughing at the prank you surely must be playing on him.

“Wha-? A wife? I have a wife?” you nod and he exhales a deep breath of air in amazement.

“YOU’RE my wife? Really?” you nod again and Ma smiles at you as she watches the scene of Logan meeting you all over again.

“Am I still in the army? I’m a Captain ya know”

“You left just a few months ago. You still work in the local camps, of course. You like it there, and you’re home every night and most weekends.”

“Does Ma like you?” You don’t even get a chance to finish as he turns to his mother “Do you like her? is she nice? Does she like your new kitchen? I built it y’know.”

You knew when you met, dated, and married him, that Sy was a Momma’s boy. He loves his mother so much, that her opinion will always mean the world to him.

Ma nods “You two are the sweetest couple. She’s the best addition to the family, gives you a run for your money alright. She’s my new favourite.” You get a soft hug from her as she says this, with her wrapping her arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. She’s always felt so grateful that her Logan found you, because my goodness did he love you ferociously, and he needed you in his life. You were the making of him, and the whole Syverson clan will forever be grateful to you for it.

"And where did we get married? If we really are married.” He continues his line of questioning.

“At the ranch, on your family’s land. it was such a special day. We had the reception there too. And we went to Italy for our honeymoon.”

Sy is basking in every word you say, praying it to be true, as if he could will it into existence if it hadn’t already happened, wanting badly to remember sunset kisses and italian food and beach days all spent with you. He perks up at the last thing you say, taken by complete surprise.

“Honeymoon?! Oh my god have we...ya know..?” A blush fades over Sy’s face, and even though you love his Ma, you really wish she wasn’t finding out so many details about your personal life today, like how your son rails you on the regular in many ways, and in many places. He must somehow remember or at least accurately imagine your past endeavours, as he grins like a little shit.

You smack his arm, lightly but with a firm hand.

“Be quiet, or the whole ward will know about our sex life” you threaten. “Yes we’ve had sex. i’d hope so given that we have a kid on the way.”

If Ma had had to deal with her son getting horny over his “new”wife, she was being fully compensated for it as she witnessed him fall head over heels in love with you, all over again.

“A kid?...Tell me ya not messing with me...are we really- I-” he swallows and his tears come even easier than before “We’re havin’ a baby?” With the sudden realisation, he turns to his Ma. “This beautiful woman right here’s havin’ my kid, Ma?” He looks between the two of you again, watching as you both nod and beam from ear to ear.

“You know you cried just as much when i told you for the first time too. i promise when the drugs are out your system it’ll all make sense again.”

Sy smiles, clutching your hand in his warm palm, almost scared to let go as the door is knocked and he feels you might be taken away. Instead, it’s a welcome visitor.

“Hey doc,” Sy greets the man who reenters the room, now freshly out of scrubs to visit his patient - who if anything is now simply love sick, no hernia to be found. “This is my wife, and she’s having a baby.” he looks back to you with a quirk of his eyebrow “My baby?” You roll your eyes and he confirms it; “my baby.”

“Oh, congratulations...again.”

The doctor’s evaluation and explanations don’t take long, and while Sy is being informed, you start rubbing your belly as a form of self-comfort. You will need to remind your child that while their father looks incredibly stern and impossibly large, he is silly and goofy and already loves them with his entire being. Over the course of the afternoon, Sy talks with you while the anaesthetic wears off. It turns out they had given him a pretty high dosage based on his height and muscle mass, so he would be out of action for a couple of hours at least.

“Oh, i have your ring” you pipe up before he starts getting too sleepy again, taking the thick gold band off of the necklace around your neck, placing it on his finger carefully.

“That feels better already” he sighs, as he begins to doze in and out of consciousness. Before he closes his eyes once more to rest peacefully, a small tear slides down his cheek, which you of course, notice. Sy has cried maybe 5 times in the time you’ve known him and three of those times have been in this very room.

“Honey what’s wrong? Are you in pain? i can call the doctor-”

“No i’m fine i’m fine i just-” he sniffs and tries to clear his throat from the sad, heavy pain he feels in his chest. “I’m gonna be real sad when I wake up from this dream. What if I can’t find you when I wake up?”

Oh your sweet, silly man.

“Bear it’s not a dream, I’ll be right here when you get up properly and we can go home and cuddle and I’ll heat up your favourite meal. I’ll be right there with you.”

“And the baby?” he asks, eyes wide. almost nervous to ask.

“Well they have to come too, they're with me. We can look at their pictures again so you can get reacquainted. And Aika will be so happy you’re back. We’ve been gone the whole day.”

“Aika!” your husband perks up, “Oh Aika, man....I love that dog..”

“I know you do bear, you just get some rest for now and then we can go home.”

Before you know it, he’s fallen back to sleep, his mouth wide open as he slumps against his pillow, completely out of it.

It’s dark outside when Sy opens his eyes again, watching as his Ma passes you a small herbal tea in the dimly lit hospital room. Technically visiting hours are over, but no one was going to argue with the Captain’s family. You smile, and he feels like he can finally relax, in your presence

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” he growls lowly, and you look up at him from your phone, beaming in surprise, glad that your husband had woken up feeling a bit more like himself.

“Oh hello again” you smile and squeeze his hand, his slow blinking already indicating a much clearer mind, and that he knows exactly who you are.

“Again? What’d I miss?”

“The drugs” he stops you mid-sentence for a sweet kiss, acting as though a minute more without your lips would be the source of his downfall. “Mmmh, the drugs made you so loopy, it was the sweetest thing, Sy.” You grin as he pulls you up beside him on the bed.

He raises his eyebrows, clearly with no recollection of any of the past events. Yet still, he smiles.

“Yeah? How’s baby?” he holds you close to his side, wrapping an arm around your waist so he can cover your tummy with his palm.

“They’re great. Glad to have daddy back and sane.”

You swear that as you say that, he starts tearing up again, this time however he doesn’t let them fall. He was openly weeping earlier, but you won’t tell him that. Not yet.

“Damnit. Must be something in these drugs they got me on.”

“Mm-hmm sure bear.”

You stay close that evening, both curled up on a hospital bed that is already quite a tight fit for your husband alone. But as always, he makes it work. You’re half on top of him, both of you fast asleep, when the nurses come to do their rounds. Ma had left just after he had woken up, sneaking off into the night to let the rest of the family know how her most middle son is keeping after the operation. You’d cuddled and doted on each other until you’d fallen asleep, Sy following not long after as he bid goodnight to you and your precious cargo with a soft kiss to your lips, and protective rub of your stomach.

He counts himself more than lucky to have something so good, that it would pain him to forget. He was living the life that he’d been too scared to ever dream of, and he couldn’t be more grateful.

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idreamofplaid · 3 years

Text

Dean Lives Forever

Square Filled: Impala for @spndeanbingo

Characters: Jensen/Dean x Reader; Jared and Kripke mentioned

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Jensen is having a hard time with Supernatural being over. The reader has an idea to help him deal with his feelings.

Word Count: 2409

A/N: This is for you @lovealways-j. Thanks for your friendship and all the thirsty exchanges.

“Will you play something for me?” You hopefully held Jensen’s guitar out to him. He’d been home for three days now since filming on The Boys had finished, and in that time he’d eaten only egg sandwiches and barely said anything. Eventually, he’d open up and talk about it. Right now he was processing. That’s what Jensen did.

You’d known it wouldn’t be easy for him, being a different character after Dean Winchester had lived in his skin for fifteen years. It was almost a doppelganger type situation it had gone on so long. Dean was like a separate entity that came to life through Jensen every time Jensen flipped that switch, and flipping that switch had become increasingly easy over the years until the lines between Jensen and Dean were blurred.

Jensen took the guitar from you and turned on the barstool to face out from the kitchen toward the breakfast nook and give himself more room to play. He placed the instrument on his leg and started to pluck at the strings. Soon the familiar chords of “Simple Man” filled the air.

He started to sing the words to the song he loved so much in his smooth soulful voice and had almost made it through the first verse when he stopped. His fingers strummed at the strings of the guitar for a few more seconds before they stopped moving too.

It was a Dean song. Jensen had always said it would become real to him that Supernatural was over when he walked onto another set and had to be somebody else. For the past several months, that’s what he’d done; and he had to do it alone. The travel restrictions were still in place while he was filming. That meant you couldn’t be there; Jared couldn’t be there. Jensen was alone in his head, and he was inclined to think too much sometimes.

The separation hadn’t been easy on you either. You’d lost sleep more than one night after a Facetime call when you knew things weren’t quite right, and Jensen was doing his best to put on a good face for you. He was a good actor, but he wasn’t good enough to hide what he was really feeling from you.

The irony was you had been able to see Jared, and the two of you had met for lunch regularly when he had a day off from Walker. Jared and Jensen were a package deal. You’d known that from the beginning and were more than happy to get a best friend/brother included in the greatest boyfriend ever set. Your conversations had centered largely around Jensen and the ending of Supernatural.

Jared was worried about him too because he knew how hard it was to let Sam go, and the truth was he hadn’t. He couldn’t. Jared provided a lot of insight into the things Jensen might be feeling that he wasn’t telling you about.

Jared’s words echoed in your mind now as you watched Jensen set his guitar down on the terrazzo tile. He’s got to figure out how to make Dean part of him and any other character he plays, because Dean’s not going anywhere.

You walked closer to stand between Jensen’s open legs and run your hands through his once again short hair. Your fingertips massaged his scalp, and he leaned into your touch. “You miss him, don’t you?” you asked quietly.

Jensen opened his jade green eyes, and you could see the melancholy in them, the touch of heartache. He tried to laugh, but it was more of a heavy exhale through his nose and a sad smile. “I know it’s stupid. It’s been a year.”

You kissed the corner of his mouth. “It’s not stupid at all.” Then you took Jensen’s hand in yours, an idea forming in your head and putting a gleam in your eye. “Go get dressed. And when I say dressed I mean put on some plaid. None of this one layer business either. That’s not the Winchester Way.”

“What are you up to, Y/N?” Jensen narrowed his eyes, making the crinkles at their corners more prominent.

“We’re taking your Baby for a ride, so get your sexy ass off this barstool and go get ready.” You gave his butt a good smack. That would either get him moving or get his dick twitching; both would be ideal.

Fifteen minutes later, Jensen was backing Baby out of her special garage with you in the passenger seat. Driving her was like swimming; you didn’t forget how no matter how long it’d been since you last saw water. Watching the way he handled his beloved Impala was a huge turn on. It had been when you’d watched “Dean” do it on your television screen, and it was even more so now.

As he steered her down the long driveway, Jensen asked, “Where do you want to go?”

You were distracted by the sight of his forearms, with their prominent veins, peeking out from the rolled up cuffs of the red and black flannel he was wearing; and didn’t respond immediately. He looked over at you, saw you checking him out, and smiled. “Why don’t you come closer? You’re too far away.”

Jensen had changed practically nothing on the car. Installing an air conditioner was a must, but he’d wanted her to stay as much the same as she had been as she could possibly be. That included no seat belts, so you could slide across the bench seat until you were next to him. Jensen put his hand on your thigh. “That’s better,” he said. “Now, tell me where to take you.”

You put your head on his shoulder. “It doesn’t matter. Just find a pretty backroad, and let’s drive.”

When he’d driven far enough out of Austin that the road was mostly deserted, you started to kiss Jensen’s neck and nibble at his ear. “How many girls do you think Dean had in this car?” you asked while you blew into his ear.

“Do you mean had or had?” Jensen moved his hand around to the inside of your thigh and eased it higher up your leg, bringing it closer to your core.

“I think you know what I mean.” You wriggled down in the seat until your pussy made contact with his hand.

Jensen rubbed his thick fingers along the seam of your jeans, making you squirm. “Oh, I imagine he had quite a few.”

“Is this what he did with them? What you’re doing to me right now?” You rubbed yourself against his hand and moaned.

“Among other things.” Jensen’s voice had dropped down into the Dean register. “Why don’t you, uh, open those jeans you’re wearin’, and I’ll show you.”

He glanced at you, his hand still teasing you through the denim. His expression had changed. You were looking into the eyes of Dean Winchester. He could still fall back into character in an instant.

You opened them up, granting him access to the cotton and lace trimmed panties you were wearing underneath. Dean slipped his hand under the waistband and curled his finger right up against your clit. He started making circles over the already aching nub and applied enough pressure to make you feel like you could come apart at any second.

“You are so wet, sweetheart.” He was watching the road, but his focus was on you. “I bet you’re tight too.” He said it like he didn’t know.

The idea that he was completely in character now, and it was Dean touching you made you come all over his hand. You couldn’t grab him like you wanted to, so you clawed at the seat beside you instead while your orgasm flowed through you in waves that made you weak.

When your body stopped shaking, Dean pulled his hand from your pants and made a show of cleaning your juices off his fingers. God. His lips. You wanted to feel them on you. He was so close you could smell him, but you needed to be closer. You buried your face in his neck and breathed him in. “Find somewhere to pull over,” you told him. “Somewhere off the road where nobody can see.”

Dean/Jensen knew these Texas backroads, and within a short time he’d found a secluded place to park Baby. “Let’s get in the back,” you said, laying your hand over the swelling bulge between his legs.

“Sounds good to me, sweetheart.” He kissed you once. His mouth claiming yours, and his need for you evident in the way his tongue tangled with yours. Then Dean opened the door. You smiled when you heard it make the familiar groaning squeak. He got out and gave you his hand to help you out of the car.

As soon as you were both in the back seat and the door had closed solidly behind him, you reached for his belt. You couldn’t get him out of his clothes fast enough, and he’d worn all the layers just like you’d asked him to. With your clothes piled on the floorboard, you explored each other’s bodies with your hands and your mouths.

Dean made his mark on you, leaving hot kisses on your stomach, your breasts, and the insides of your thighs. His touch was a little different than the one you were used to, a little heavier with an almost desperation to feel alive through the act of joining your body with someone else’s.

You knew people said that Jensen should win awards for his acting, and you could verify that they were right because the way he kissed you, the way he touched you, it was tender, caring, and passionate. But the love wasn’t there. This man appreciated you, wanted you, worshipped your body, but he didn’t love you. It was Jensen who loved you.

The way he moved inside you was different too. His thrusts were deep and sharp, then he would slow down and roll his hips until you were begging for him to give you more. When he came inside you, the sound of your name on his lips was a more primal thing. It was basic and raw. This was sex for the sake of the pure physical pleasure, and it felt amazingly good. You clenched him tightly, determined to milk every drop of the pain out of him.

Immediately after the finish of your mind numbing orgasm, he rolled off of you. “Thank you, baby.” Jensen.

You turned toward him and propped yourself over him, so you could look down into his face. What you saw confirmed what you’d heard in the change of his voice. It was the man you loved. You kissed him, and it was the kiss you knew. It was filled with a soft intensity that made you feel loved, wanted, chosen, and trusted.

You were overwhelmed by how much this man meant to you. Dean Winchester was as sexy as any man had ever been, but it was Jensen you were going to marry one day, Jensen who held your heart. It was Jensen who always thought of you in so many little ways like a true gentleman would.

As if to prove it, he asked, “Are you cold?” He rubbed his hand down your back to check and apparently decided you were, because he sat up and retrieved his flannel from the floorboard. “Here. Put this on,” he told you as he helped you into it and buttoned up some of the buttons in the middle, enough to keep the shirt closed.

You settled back beside him, his arms wrapped securely around you. His body was warmer than any flannel. You placed soft kisses on his chest, then lay your head down on it. “It’s okay to miss him,” you whispered while you traced mindless patterns over Jensen’s heart with your fingertip. “It’s okay to be him again sometimes too if that’s what you need. He’s part of you, Jensen. Always will be.”

“It’s been so damn hard these past few months.” You kissed his chest again to encourage him to go on. “I hear ‘action’ and to me that means be Dean, but I couldn’t. I had to fight it. I couldn’t walk like him, or sound like him, or make any of the gestures he would have made. And, yeah, I missed him.”

“I missed being on set with Jared too, having him to play off of. We made each other better. We had a rhythm when we were doing a scene that was just natural. So natural, it almost wasn’t acting.” You could feel his arms tighten around you the slightest bit. ”I felt like I forgot how to act.”

You kissed him again, letting your lips linger on his skin before you pulled them away. “I wish I could have been there for you. I’m sorry you had to go through that alone.”

He tried to laugh again, just like he had earlier in the kitchen. It was a little closer to a real laugh. “I couldn’t be Dean Winchester forever, could I?”

You raised your head up to look at him. “That’s not even a question, Jensen.” You smiled when you said it. “You will be Dean forever. You can’t get him out of you. Stop trying to fight it. You’ve proved you can play another character. Eric can’t stop raving about how good you are, and I’m sure when the season is released everyone else is going to see that too.”

He reached up and took your face in his hand. “I’m one lucky son of a bitch to have you.” Your smile got bigger.

“See. That was Dean right there.” Realization crossed Jensen’s face. He shook his head and smiled, really smiled.

“So, you’re saying you wouldn’t mind if I bring Dean out to play every once in awhile?” The smile was still on his face, and it was beautiful.

“I wouldn’t mind that at all.” You kissed him then with a light flirtiness for the first time that day. “In fact I think it would be a good idea for us to do that. We better keep you in practice because everybody knows Supernatural is coming back, and we don’t want Dean to come across like Soldier Boy,” you said playfully.

Jensen flipped you beneath him. “Soldier Boy? I’ll show you Soldier Boy.”

And that’s a story for another time...

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @peridottea91 @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @emilyshurley @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @67-chevy-baby @fandom-princess-forevermore @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @jules-1999 @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @becs-bunker @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @sea040561 @dawnie1988 @volleyballer519 @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @daisymoder72 @sorenmarie87 @lovealways-j @deansotherotherblog @mrswhozeewhatsis @spnbaby-67 @wayward-and-worn @asthesunwentdown @vulgar-library @thinkinghardhardlythinking @petitgateau911 @calaofnoldor

Dean/Jensen: @deansyahtzee @flamencodiva @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @focusonspn @akshi8278 @ladywinchester1967 @sgarrett49 @wingedcatninja @coffee-obsessed-writer @adoptdontshoppets @ellewritesfix05 @weepingwillowphoenix

#spndeanbingo #jensen fluff #dean smut #jensen x reader #dean x reader #jensen angst #spn rpf

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juniorgman187 · 3 years

Text

Spoiled Rotten (Reid Fic)

Summary: After Spencer went radio silent on Reader while he was in prison, their pride and stubbornness threatens to tear them apart forever. Reader’s forced to mourn the death of who they were and experience the inner turmoil of navigating who they are.

A/N: Y’all are gonna kill me for the ending, but it’s one hell of a way to go. Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Angst Content Warning: Imprisonment, humiliation, abandonment, anger, frustration, angst, yelling, fighting Word Count: 5.3k Playlist: Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo

Time jumps are indicated by “. . .” or “_ _ _”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

A rather unfortunate predicament we’ve found ourselves in tonight. I can’t say I’ve ever been quite this uncomfortable in my life, yet I’m careful not to speak too soon. Because I know the second Spencer opens his mouth to break the silence we’re currently sitting in, I’ll stand corrected.

“You’re breathing really hard,” He tells me out of nowhere.

See, I stand corrected.

Now that I’ve become hyper aware of my own inhale and exhale, my respiration is just that much more restricted. I’m practically holding my breath at this moment - both from the anticipation of catching this unsub in the act and giving Spencer one less thing to scrutinize about me.

“I didn’t say you had to stop breathing,” He tacks on as if it would put me any more at ease. Not that if he had explicitly said such a thing, I would’ve.

Unlike other people, I wasn’t exactly jumping at the chance to throw myself at his feet so he’d like me. But to use that as grounds for his disdain would be foolish. Our rancor went deeper than the basic lack of synergy between us.

And in the spirit of getting to the bottom of that abyssal pit, I finally asked the question with words that always seemed to hang above but never would form.

“Why was I the only one denied visitation while you were in prison?”

It may surprise you to know that it wasn’t always like this between us; we were actually close once, although it is hard to imagine that version of us ever really existing. However, if I think about it hard enough, I can remember with perfect clarity who we used to be.

. . .

“Jeez, you really don’t like these things do you?” I nudged him playfully before feeling instantly guilty once I witnessed the result of my shove that must’ve been a little too much for all 120 (at most) pounds of him. I’d neglected to remember the strength I held over the lanky Doctor as well as neglected to notice where the trajectory of my push would land him - in the direct line of a circus clown walking the opposite direction as us. This, of course, brought him face to face with the character. Unfortunately, I managed to catch a glimpse of the lens of Spencer’s glasses grazing the white face paint of the caricature.

After a shudder of mortification and a very brave shriek, Spencer ran to my other side to be as far away from the clown as possible and apparently, as close to me as possible. From a distance, you’d think we were conjoined simply by the way he was glued to me - shoulder to shoulder, elbow to elbow, hip to hip, thigh to thigh.

While removing his glasses to clean them off with the hem of his blazer, he answered, “Carnivals? I mean, what’s not to like? What with the loud noises, the heart-attack-inducing food that’s more grease than actual food, or the sheer amount of bacteria harboring on each and every handle, hoop, ball, or button of these ridiculous game booths.”

“Wow, you really don’t like carnivals.” I should’ve figured.

“Nope. Never have and probably never will.”

As someone who looked forward to the fair every summer of her childhood, any aversion to carnivals broke my heart. I had a fondness for them borne in adolescence that I couldn’t quite justify now in my adulthood.

“But they’re fun!” was the best argument I could muster. The whine in my voice being provoked by the possibility that the higher the shrill of my pitch, the easier he’d be to sway. Turns out, Dr. Reid was not nearly as susceptible to my auditory persuasion as I might’ve thought he was. Just a stone cold, inconvincible slab of steel.

“I’m sorry. I know you brought me here because you love these things, but I just can’t get past the ...” He surveyed the fair, ostensibly against his will, in search of the perfect word to describe our surroundings. “Filth.”

I would’ve argued in the defense of the carnival, mentioning how it’s endearing that the only bathrooms for miles were porta potties, and that the screaming, crying, sticky children galore just added to the attraction, and that there was a hidden charm to the way the roller coasters creaked beyond their means with every ride.

But to an extent, I agreed. It was rather filthy, and I wasn’t much of a germaphobe myself so to someone like him, this would be hell on earth.

“Well, you get what you put into it. If you’re willing to overlook some minor imperfections, I really think you’d enjoy this place.”

Spencer by now had his hands in his pockets and his walking pace had slowed to a complete halt. There was a moment of skepticism, followed by a partially open smile to make way for the laughter that escaped from the disbelief that he felt for letting me break his resolve so easily.

“Alright then. What do you want to do first, Brat?”

The nickname I’d earned could be seen as meanspirited, but truly, it was affectionately diminutive. Like all good nicknames are. And like the proclaimed Brat I was, I’d taken him to all my favorite parts of the fair.

First came the bumper cars to ease him into the experience - as ironic as that sounds. He was reluctant to submerge his gangly body into a mini vehicle, much less one that’d been inhabited by God knows how many people before us, but he pushed his reservations aside when he realized he’d get to slam into my car (safely, of course).

Secondly, we went on the Carousel, but this was only in preparation for the real ride that I wanted to take him on next - the Swinging Chairs. He’d gotten a little nauseous, from both the repetitive circling and the galvanized chains he had to hold that were definitely held by several others.

He had no interest in going on the Gravitron - super lame, I know - so we opted for the Ferris Wheel instead. I didn’t mind making this compromise so much after recognizing all that he’d done for my benefit that night. And for his generosity and selflessness, I thought it only fitting to end the night going somewhere so tame he couldn’t possibly have any opposition to it.

The photo booth.

The booth in particular we’d gone to was smaller than an airplane bathroom, if you can imagine that. The bench seat was barely wide enough to fit Spencer, let alone seat the both of us. While he didn’t explicitly make the offer to let me sit on his lap, it was kind of a give in that I’d have some part of my body intertwined around him like stubborn ivy.

. . .

I still laugh thinking about the tangled mess of limbs we were below what the camera couldn’t capture. It was arguably the furthest extent of contortionist work I wanted to do in my lifetime, and henceforth exceedingly uncomfortable, and yet, I’d never felt more at home than when I was in his arms.

That night he would tear off the top three photos to keep for himself while I kept the bottom three photos.

To this day, I have never seen the pictures that he kept, and I’m left to wonder if he had them at all.

Because I still have mine. And they were virtually the only thing keeping me sane throughout his trial and subsequent imprisonment.

Six Months Ago ...

My eyes were locked on the loose thread of my cardigan that I was rolling between my fingers anxiously.

“Would you stop that?” Penelope swatted my hand away from my sweater. “You’re making me nervous just looking at you.” She grumbled.

“Sorry,” I apologized bleakly.

A few seconds later she groaned again, making me think I was still doing something bothersome, but it turned out to be just the opposite. “Ugh, I know that sounded mean, and I hate when I sound mean, but I can feel my forehead creasing from the stress, and watching you fidget is going to give me an ulcer.”

“I wish I could help it. I’m just really worried about him.”

“Well I am, too, but that’s not gonna do us any good right now. All we can do is hope for the best.”

Sometimes Penelope’s overly optimistic view on life was futile and unwelcome, and truthfully, this was one of those times.

“Penny?”

As she turned her head, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the lenses of her dark green glasses. I could see my own mournful expression as I asked, “What if he’s found guilty?”

She started to say something but stopped herself. “Right now, all we need to focus on is his bail. We can worry about a verdict later.” She put her hand on top of mine and shook it briefly to remind me that we were in this together.

Moments later recess was over and the team came trudging back into the courtroom.

The sound of the judge clearing her throat and our footsteps on the floor made this feel all too normal.

How could Spencer’s life be hanging in the balance in such a place as non-intimate as this?

It frustrated me how casual things felt today and how everyone was acting normally. Prentiss had yet to bat an eye, Rossi’s stoic expression never changed, and Penelope was telling me not to worry. Everyone was acting so aloof.

My eyes darted to Spencer, who was looking back at us woefully. I couldn’t bear to see him like that any longer, so I kept my head down and stared at my feet after I took my seat.

Even when I closed my eyes, I was haunted by the vision of him in a suit, just like one he’d wear to work. But instead, he was wearing it for this - this vastly different situation.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at him the same in one anymore. I’ll probably just remember this particular look on his face, in this god awful courtroom, during this horribly nauseating circumstance.

If one thing was for certain, it was that this would all come back to me if I ever laid eyes on him in a suit, and that thought fucking terrified me.

Because that one thought spiraled into the next: Everything was bound to change after this. Every little thing would change in every little way.

Spencer’s lawyer, the judge, and the prosecutor were going back and forth for a while, but I tuned it all out because I knew if I had tuned in, I wouldn’t have been able to hold back my arguments. Eventually, though, I heard something I could no longer ignore.

“If past behavior is the best indicator of future conduct, and I do believe it is, then your client presents a flight risk.”

I stood up immediately, getting a head rush from the speed. I knew what was to follow, so I needed to be on my feet the second I heard it. Maybe so I could run and escape before I had to.

“Bail is denied. The defendant will remain in federal custody pending trial.”

“Spencer!” I shouted, losing all the composure I’d been trying to maintain. I reached for him as if he was at any capacity to reach back and hold me. God, I needed him to hold me. Hold me like how he did at the carnival.

Hold me.

Luke held me back as I fought to be near him.

“Let me go!” I screamed, trying to break free of his tight grip. Spencer could only stand and stare, mirroring my own wistful glance. He mouthed something to me that I couldn’t quite make out, but if I knew him at all, he probably said something about not wanting me to worry about him.

“(Y/n), (y/n) it’s gonna be alright.” JJ reasoned, pulling me into a hug.

“How long before this case goes to trial?” I heard Prentiss whisper to Spencer’s lawyer.

“It’s a complicated case. I’d say three months maybe?”

Immediately, I worked myself out of JJ’s arms and pushed my way through the team, running up to the barrier between us.

“Spence!” I cried out in anguish.

To the sound of my voice, he glanced over his shoulder sadly. He wasn’t even shocked I’d been able to get so close to him - he seemed to expect it, and for that, he was sad. Because he knew if I was going to be as stubborn as to fight to get to him at this hearing, then I was going to be stubborn enough to reach him in prison, too. And should he find himself behind bars, he knew that I’d get to him one way or another.

That is if he’d let me.

“Be strong,” He weakly smiled. ‘For me’ his sad eyes begged in addition. He held my gaze for as long as he possibly could before disappearing into another room.

As I watched him walk away, I could feel my heart shattering and crumbling into the pit of my stomach. Perhaps that was a premonition, a true gut feeling, telling me something I at the time couldn’t have known and wouldn’t have accepted.

That was the last time I would see Spencer.

People always say when something unbelievable happens, it doesn’t feel real, but this? Nothing felt more real and more intense than this.

There was no other way for me to see this situation but as the first defeat in an endless line of them.

If Spencer was denied bail, what else could happen to him? Could he be found guilty too? Because prior to this, the denial of his bail seemed impossible. He posed no flight risk, but according to the judge, he did. So if what I once thought to be impossible happened, then it could and would happen again.

I knew Spencer was going to be found guilty.

What I didn’t know, though, was how I was going to live with myself from then on.

I didn’t go that day.

I knew myself too well. So did the others, which is why they didn’t object to my decision not to come to Spencer’s trial. They knew I was better off staying home. Especially, if there was the chance that I might react hysterically again.

I didn’t stay home, though. That part the team never found out about.

I went to visit Diana instead. A much wiser choice, in my opinion.

“You know, we’ve been talking so much about Spencer today, but we haven’t talked about you yet,” said Diana.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” I feigned a polite smile.

“You thought I wouldn’t notice?” She tilted her chin downward and gave me that sly grin of hers.

“No, no, of course not. I know better than to underestimate the Diana Reid.” I quipped, making her smile widen. “I just figured you’d wanna spend your time talking about someone much more interesting.”

“Oh please, Spencer and I talk about you all the time.”

I perked up from the checker piece I was fiddling with. “You do?”

“Mhm,” She nodded over and over again. “I always knew there was something between you two because you could always talk about each other to me, but for some reason, you could never actually talk to each other.”

For the first time in months, I genuinely laughed and I couldn’t help it. “He makes me nervous! I always feel like he might correct something I say, or tell me that there’s food in my teeth.”

“You know, now that you mention it, I do remember him saying something about seeing a really big piece of lettuce in your teeth one time.”

“Diana!” I squealed, pushing the checkerboard at her, pretending to take offense.

“I really don’t know what you’re so nervous about! I think it would be good if you just talked to him.”

“It’s, um, it’s not that simple. Not right now, at least.”

My energy quickly nose-dived and I tried to do my best to hide it from Diana, but it permeated through the rest of the visit. I couldn’t fully enjoy myself after it.

The team and I all agreed not to let Diana know, especially not with the uncertainty of the case. There was no point riling her up if there was nothing to be worried about. And I could only imagine how I reacted - Diana would be reacting 10 times more hysterically.

But as much as I hated to say it, I almost would’ve rather been in her position.

I would give anything to un-know Spencer’s circumstance.

Present Time ...

In this car, there was nowhere for him to run or hide, not like before.

Anytime I so much as entered his gravity by being in the same room, he’d flee the space in the next breath. Granted, he couldn’t really avoid me entirely. We did have to be on the same flight for an extended period of time, but he made that work by letting me choose my spot first, then choosing a spot directly on the opposite side of the jet.

What a gentleman, huh?

“Kudos to you, by the way. For managing to avoid me for this long. I imagine it’s been as not-easy as it has been incredibly-cowardly.” My words stung as they flowed from my lips as badly as I imagine they seared his already cracked skin. I couldn’t believe that now that I finally had the opportunity to talk to him, I was using it to be petty and passively aggressive. But then again, I could.

Because after what he put me through, he deserved to feel the full severity of my indignation.

My only wish was that he knew exactly how I had felt when I found out.

. . .

Icarus.

He died tragically while using artificial wings, invented by his father, to escape from the Labyrinth. When Icarus flew too close to the sun, it melted the wax that held the wings together, and he fell into the sea.

‘Don’t fly too close to the sun.’ That’s the moral of the story. That’s what Reid was trying to tell me. But I didn’t listen.

I flew too close.

I had approached the window with more zeal than this predicament warranted.

“I’m (y/n) (y/l/n). I’m here to see Spencer Reid, R-E-I-D,” I eagerly spelt his last name with ease as though it were my own last name.

She’d flipped back and forth between pages, running her index finger up and down the sheet for far too long that it made me worry. Turns out, I had every right to be worried.

“I don’t see you on the list, ma’am.”

I was so mindnumbingly dumb that I couldn’t even see how dumb I was being. “Oh no no no, I’m with the FBI. I called earlier and left a message, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember you,” She smiled politely, giving me the tiniest fragment of hope. “But you’re not on his list.” Only for it to be shattered in an instant.

I had yet to process or accept this information. “So what does that mean?”

“It means he doesn't wanna see you right now. And frankly, neither do I. Next!”

“Wait, could you just please check with him? My name is (y/n) -”

“Ma’am, you are holding up a whole line of people that wanna see their loved ones too, so I suggest you see yourself out before I call security to help see you out.”

I knew by her tone of the word ‘help’ that meant a prison guard would most likely forcibly remove me from the premises, and the last thing I needed was to feel even more humiliated.

I got plenty of that when I had to come back to the BAU.

“You’re not on the list?” Luke seemed genuinely shocked. More so than I was. Above all, I just felt really stupid.

“I’m sure it was just a mistake.” Stephen reasoned. He was so good at being level-headed. Which normally, I would’ve loved. But right now, it only fueled the fire burning in my chest.

“That’s what I thought at first, too. But later on, she asked him herself, and he said - and I quote, ‘I don’t want to see her. Not now. Not ever.’”

. . .

Those were the words that seared my skin, and he hadn’t even spoken them directly to me to do it.

The words that did just enough to heal me back to health were, of course, Penelope’s.

“Since you haven’t seen him yet, the rest of us will just wait until you have. It’s only fair that you have your first turn before the rest of us go back for a second time.”

Back then, it was easy to hold out hope, but the more and more time passed, the more he kept denying my visits. Therefore, the more my hope began to fade.

It had been weeks since anyone else had seen him before I finally surrendered. Although I had newly-brewing sourness towards Reid, it didn’t feel fair to deny him everyone else’s presence until mine was permitted.

Luke was the one who volunteered to visit first. And to my dismay, Spencer didn’t fight against it.

The proof was finally there. Now I could say with absolute certainty: Spencer just didn’t want to see me.

It was both ironic and utterly frustrating to think about how I’d never gone more than two weeks without seeing him. Even when the BAU got time off after big cases, we’d always spend that time together. The longest we’d spent apart was 12 days. And right when he came back to D.C, we were attached at the hip for the next week, trying to compensate for all that time we were apart.

Now, look at us. I haven’t said one word to him in half a year.

If tragedy and comedy could coexist, this would be it.

“How is he?” I asked Luke as soon as he got back.

“He’s holding on,” Luke affirmed with confidence. What he said next lacked any of that. “He told me to tell you not to worry about him.”

Something in me knew it was a lie. “Did he actually say that?”

His lack of an answer was one itself.

“Did he say anything at all about me?”

“I tried telling him how much you wanted to see him, but he just brushed it off. I’m sorry, (y/n).”

This became my routine for the months to follow. Every time someone would come back from the prison, I’d ask them if they talked about me, but the answer was always no. After a while, it had gotten to the point where I purposefully started leaving myself out of the loop. At least in that case, it was by my own volition that I was being excluded, not by a predicament being forced on me.

Not by Spencer.

“We’re not doing this right now,” Spencer declaration brought me back to the present, where I found him removing himself from both the conversation and the vehicle. When I heard the latch click to open, my hand reflexively flew to my auto-lock to prevent him from leaving. Naturally, he still managed to escape using his door’s button.

If I couldn’t stop him, then I could follow him.

“Then when will we do this? Huh, Spencer? When? Because anytime I try to talk to you, you run away.” The mere fact that I was speed-walking after him was proof. While he casually strolled down the sidewalk paying me no mind, I tried to be clever and walk down the street so we’d be somewhat side to side. I was tired of staring at his back every time he walked away. I needed to see his face.

For his every stride, I had to take at least three steps. He was gliding through the world so effortlessly as I was trekking my uphill battle. It was quite fitting, though. Further exemplification that, between us, I was fighting harder to preserve the people we used to be, the relationship we used to have. Meanwhile, he couldn’t care less. A stone cold, inconvincible slab of steel. Just like he always was.

As I began to speak, I had to also be conscious of the parked cars along the curb, being careful to weave in and out.

“For months, you have blatantly ignored me. The entire time you were in prison, you denied my visits. And it’s not like it was a one time thing. I tried to visit you over 100 times while you were in jail! 100 times I got rejected. 100 times I got turned away. 100 times my heart shattered.”

By now, I was speaking so loudly that I could see household lights within neighboring homes turning on. I hadn’t even realized how far we’d walked down the street and away from our car, but it was the last thing on my mind.

“Then after you were released, it’s like I never even existed. I had to find out that you were out of there a week later than everyone else because they all assumed you came to me yourself to tell me the good news,” I laughed wryly at my own stupidity. “Do you know how hard it was for me?”

“Do you know how hard it was for me?”

It took me a second to register that he was actually engaging with me in this conversation now. But when I looked at his expression, I could see that something within him had snapped. A little piece of me was glad, though. Now I knew for sure that there was some effect I had on him.

“Hard for you?”

“I know you came to visit me 100 times! Want to know how I know? Because I was there, too! I was there every time a guard came to ask if I wanted to see you. I was there every time I turned you away. And while you got to walk out of those doors every time I did, I was stuck in there, rotting in that cell, thinking about how badly I wanted to see you. How badly I wanted to touch ...” His voice faltered. “To touch you. But I had to protect you!”

“You do realize in protecting me, you were hurting me in the process.”

“Because you just don’t know when to leave well enough alone!” His hands tugged at the root of his unruly hair like evidence of the frustration that my stubbornness caused. “You’re such a pain in the ass because you can never cooperate! It’s gotta be your way or no one else’s! ‘Spencer, it has to be this way because I said so. Spencer, you have to let me see you because I said so. Spencer, you have to talk to me because I said so. Spencer, you have to ride this stupid roller coaster because I said so,’” His imitation of my nagging voice would’ve made me laugh before. Now, it was bringing me onto the verge of tears. “Since clearly no one’s told you this before - not everything is about you! You just want it to be because you’re a whiny, little brat! You’re so spoiled rotten that you can’t even see how far down it goes. If you did, you’d know that you’re rotten to the core and that nothing will ever satisfy you. Especially me.”

His words had done more than sear me. They pierced me. They ripped me. They destroyed me. When he called me Brat, I thought it was endearing. Now, looking back, I realize - no, that’s just how little he thought of me.

As I came to the conclusion, I stopped dead in my tracks on the pavement.

I was done chasing Spencer.

His face had fallen from its anger, indicating he was apologetic, but I was beyond accepting his sorry excuses anymore. I couldn’t stand to look at him so I looked behind me to find our car at least a football field away. I guess in many ways, I’d gone the whole nine yards.

“This is what you wanted right?” I turned back to him momentarily. My voice scared me how calm it was because, inside, I was boiling with rage. “Well, here you go, Spence. Have all the fucking space you want.”

It was usually me watching his back while he walked away, and now, he was watching mine.

“(Y/n), wait!”

And for the briefest second, it actually felt good to be the first one to leave.

I was free.

_ _ _

To my dismay and relief, when I walked into work the next morning, he wasn’t there. I would’ve looked for him with more than a cursory glance except I was stuck on looking at something strange in the bullpen that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. But as I walked further in, a blaring siren went off in my head.

Spencer’s desk is completely empty.

I instantly sorted through my purse for my phone to reach Prentiss when I noticed something more.

I had been desperate to cling onto any notion that he still loved me, and there it was, just sitting on his desk. Proof that the man I loved was still in there somewhere.

The top three pictures from the carnival photo booth.

I laughed, as I always did, thinking about how much we had to exert ourselves to be positioned in a semi-adequate way. In the next wave, I felt profoundly empty. He had kept the pictures all these years, and now that I finally get to see them, he’s left me.

As I brought my hand to my face to clear the tears pooling at my lower lashes, I saw that my finger had an ink smear on the pad of it. There was nowhere else I could’ve obtained it except for if there was writing on the back of the photos.

What I read when I turned it over was as follows.

I want to be this guy for you again, (y/n). I just don’t know how.

I just don’t know if I can.

No matter how much I’ve changed, one thing’s still the same.

I love you.

I should’ve focused on the message, but all that I could focus on was that if I managed to smear the ink, that meant it was fresh, written just now.

He was still here.

I pocketed the photos and abandoned my purse, only carrying with me the phone that I forgot to use to dial Prentiss. After a moment’s indecision, I figured that taking the stairs would be faster than the elevator, and I bounded down the steps without hesitation.

“Spencer!” I yelled into the parking structure when I reached the ground floor. The sound of me bursting through the door caught the attention of Anderson, who was getting out of his car.

“I just saw him leave.” Anderson threw his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the exit. I knew, even in my state of mind, there was no feasible reality where I could reach him on foot. I had to call him.

I pleaded to myself for him to pick up with every ring of my phone.

“(Y/n),” He said like a statement instead of a question. Again, he’d anticipated I’d do this. He probably picked it up not even having to look at the caller ID but knowing it was me and no one else.

“I don’t need you to be the guy you were before, Spencer. I just need you to bend a little bit. I know we’re both stubborn people, but if we can just find a halfway point-”

“(Y/n), (y/n),” He was settling me and the sentences that were coming out of my mouth at 100 mph.

“I’ll bend if you bend.” I promised.

The static of the call filled my ears until his voice finally did.

“For everyone else, I bend ... for you, I break.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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the-modernmary · 3 years

Text

when you gonna take me out? || derek morgan x GN!reader

Summary: You and Derek have been flirting pretty heavily for the past few weeks. So when his first time asking you out doesn't go as well as planned, he's determined to get you to say yes.

Warnings: mentions of getting shot, allusions to smut

A/N: Chapter title taken from Aly & AJ's "Take Me Out". This was inspired by a scene from the show community, and also because derek morgan deserves more love

~~~~~~~

“No, no, you see, asking somebody out is an art,” Derek explained to a very frustrated Spencer Reid. “And I think with a little practice, pretty boy, you could become a bit of a player.”

Prentiss, who had been listening to Derek trying to convince Spencer to let him be his wingman for the better part of an hour, scoffed from her desk. “Using a cheesy pickup line is an art now?”

“There is nothing wrong with a line!” Derek argued, leaning back in his desk chair. “It’s a knock at the door. And once they let you in, that’s when you strike.”

Spencer scrunched up his nose at Derek’s phrasing. “I think I’m going to leave the whole player thing to you.”

“Come on, Reid, it’s easy.”

“If it’s so easy, then why don’t you show us?” Prentiss shot.

Right at that moment, Garcia and JJ walked back into the bullpen, coffees in hand. “Show us what?” JJ questioned.

“Derek is trying to teach Reid how to flirt,” Prentiss explained. “But I think he’s just all talk. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Morgan with a significant other.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Hey, I don’t pry into your personal life?”

Garcia put a comforting hand on Derek’s shoulder. “Nobody can resist my chocolate thunder. I mean, look at him. He literally looks like he was sculpted by Michaelangelo.”

“I’m with Emily,” JJ chimed in. “I kind of want to see the Derek Morgan in action.”

Derek’s eyes scanned the bullpen until he landed on you, standing in the kitchen area and making yourself a cup of coffee. You were also a profiler, just on a different team that primarily focused on cold cases. It was no secret that you and Derek Morgan had been flirting pretty heavily the past few weeks — longing glances, pet names, and kisses on cheeks were just the start — and you both had a sneaking suspicion that there was an office pool betting on whether or not the two of you had already hooked up.

“Fine,” Derek said, standing up. “Watch and learn, Pretty Ricky.”

Derek sauntered over to the kitchen and leaned against the counter while reaching for a wooden stirrer. “Let me help you with that,” he offered.

You turned to look at him, a smile on your face. “Wow, what a gentleman,” you teased, but you handed your cup of coffee to him anyways. “I didn’t realize you knew how I take my coffee?”

“You learn a lot about somebody when you can’t take your eyes off them,” he pointed out. “Especially with the way you look right now. I mean, wow. Got a hot date tonight? Because he is one very lucky man.”

You arched an eyebrow in his direction. “Nope, no date.”

“Well, you do now, baby,” Derek grinned. “I’ll pick you up at 8:30.”

You stared at Derek, part amused and part incredulous. “Did you really think that would work?” you asked through a breathy chuckle.

Derek’s confident grin fell slightly as his eyes narrowed in confusion. “Wait, what?” he asked, unable to form any other words.

“Derek Morgan, I expected so much more from you,” you mused, snatching your coffee cup from his hand. “I know you can sweet talk better than that.”

It was Derek’s turn to raise his eyebrows, and he tried his best to ignore the barely-suppressed giggles from his teammates. “So is that a no?” he clarified, not used to the feeling of rejection. Although, it didn’t feel quite like a rejection, especially when you were smiling at him with just a hint of your tongue peaking out from between your teeth.

“It’s a… ‘better luck next time’,” you explained, taking a sip of your coffee.

Derek’s normal, confident grin returned to his face. “You’re saying I can ask you out again?” he clarified, because he did not want to be the guy who didn’t know how to take no for an answer.

You walked backwards to your desk, never taking your eyes off Derek. “Sure. It could be fun. But you’ll have to bring your A-game if you want me to say yes,” you told him, and oh, Derek Morgan loved a good challenge.

Derek walked back to his desk, feeling the stares of his teammates the whole way back.

“Like a knock on the door...” Prentiss quoted back to Derek. “So did you just get the door slammed in your face, or was nobody home?”

Derek scoffed and sat down in his chair, already coming up with all the new ways he could ask you out. He had been wanting to for a while, but the timing was always off. But now…

“Oh no, I’m in,” Derek promised, and his eyes were immediately drawn to you. He hadn’t been lying when he said that he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. “But I’m playing the long game.”

~~~~~~~

Derek and the rest of his team got pulled into a case shortly after, so you didn’t hear from him for about a week except for the occasional “how is it going?” text. They got back to the BAU in the middle of the day, but instead of heading straight home like the rest of his team, Derek made a beeline to your desk.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he greeted, dropping a quick kiss to your temple. “Hope you didn’t miss me too much.”

A soft blush rose to your cheeks as you shut the file you were looking at, spinning your chair so that you could face him. “I missed you tons, as always. But you knew that.”

Derek’s eyes trailed up and down your body, and there was a softness to his gaze that you rarely ever saw from him. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

“Sore eyes?” you questioned. “I don’t know about that. Wasn’t there a meteor shower where you guys were at?”

“Yeah, but no meteor shower can compare to how beautifully your eyes sparkle.”

You tried really, really hard to hold in your laughter. You pressed your lips into a thin line and you bit the insides of your cheeks, but you were only so strong, and even Derek looked like he realized how cheesy and awful that line was.

You broke down into a fit of laughter. “I’m sorry,” you giggled, covering your mouth as you did. “I just — Did you google a top ten best pickup lines list on the plane ride back?”

Derek winced, but nodded in agreement. “That’s fair. Not my best work.”

“No, it was not, Romeo,” you said, patting his cheek. “But we’ll chalk it up to post-case sleep deprivation.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Derek grinned. “When the time comes, you won’t be able to say no.”

You laughed, throwing your head back as you did. “And I am eagerly awaiting that day.”

~~~~~~~

Two days later, Derek all but ambushed you at the elevator. As soon as you stepped out onto the 6th floor, Derek slung his arm around your shoulders, and used his free hand to carry your bag for you.

“Oh, this is exciting,” you mused. You reached your hand up to interlace your fingers with the hand that was draped over your shoulder. “What do you have for me today, baby?”

“I’ve been thinking,” Derek explained. “And you’re a modern, progressive, independent person. I think I’ve been going about this all wrong.”

You nodded in encouragement. He was so close, you just knew it. All he had to do was ask you.

“You don’t want to be dragged down by a bunch of strings. So how about you come over tonight, I’ll put on some mood music, light some candles, and you and I can have one perfect night of pure bliss.”

Or maybe he wasn’t as close as you thought.

“Nope,” you said, moving his arm off of your shoulders. You liked Derek Morgan, but you were not going to be another one of his one night stands. “Not gonna happen.”

“Better or worse than before?” Derek asked, already knowing the answer, and he handed your bag back to you.

“Worse. Much worse.” You paused and turned so that you were facing him. “But I like how forward you were. Keep that up.”

Derek smirked and leaned against the wall, his hands in his pockets. “Yeah? So should I keep those candles just in case?”

You pretended to think about it for a few seconds. “With your current track record, baby boy, the only place you’ll be using those candles is in your dreams.”

“You’re already in my dreams, hot stuff,” he promised you. “Every. Single. Night.”

Oh god, that was a very welcome image you would think about forever. You knew that Derek liked you, and you had had your fair share of fantasies involving him in some pretty explicit situations, but him fantasizing about you? It was almost enough to convince you to drag him into the nearest empty room.

Almost. Because if he wanted a chance with you, he was going to have to actually ask you on a date.

Instead, you blew him a kiss and left him with: “And I bet I’m even better than you can imagine.”

Needless to say, the both of you spent the rest of the day incredibly distracted.

~~~~~~~

By that point, pretty everybody on the 6th floor knew what was going on, and they were all invested. More betting pools sprouted up, and even some of the more reserved agents were putting in their two cents, albeit under the guise of disapproval.

That’s why, when a bouquet of flowers appeared on your desk one morning, it was all anybody could talk about as they waited for you to get to work. Even Rossi and Hotch had found an excuse to get themselves out of their offices and into the main part of the bullpen.

“They’re going to say yes today,” Penelope guessed. “They have to. Everybody likes flowers, and this shows the sweet side of my chocolate thunder.”

Prentiss scoffed. “I hope they don’t. I have twenty bucks on at least two more rejections.”

Rossi, who was sitting on the edge of a desk, shook his head. “These are your friends. Don’t you guys feel bad about betting on their love lives?”

“Says the guy who has fifty dollars on ‘they get drunk and leave the bar together’,” Hotch said, not even looking up at the file he was skimming through. Hotch was one of the only ones who hadn’t put money into this whole thing, but he was still very well informed. “You all should really hide the whiteboard the bets are on a little bit better.”

Rossi was about to defend himself when you walked through the glass doors of the BAU. A hush fell over the room and they watched as your smile melted into realization and then nervousness.

You walked over to the bouquet and gingerly took the card, but you didn’t even get to read it when the first sneeze came. Then the next and the next, and pretty soon your eyes were watery, your nose running, and your throat was so scratchy that you sounded like you smoked four packs a day.

You tried to focus on your work, but the constant sneezing and needing to get up to blow your nose was seriously disrupting your productivity. You could barely focus because it felt like a head cold that just wouldn’t go away. Your pollen allergy was something you’d had your whole life, and when they hit, they hit bad.

The flowers were gorgeous and such a sweet gesture, but you didn’t even have the chance to really appreciate them while you could barely breathe through your nose. You were sure you were just a distraction

A hand on your shoulder made you jump, and you whipped around to see Hotch looking down at you with concern. You sighed. “I’m sorry, Agent Hotchner,” you said, your voice nasally. “I usually keep allergy meds in my bag, but it’s not pollen season and I—”

“Go home, agent,” Hotch interrupted you gently. “Get some rest. You can come back tomorrow when you feel better.”

“No, m’fine I just need to—” You cut yourself off this time with another sneeze, and then all you could do was agree with Hotch. “Yeah, I’m gonna go home. Thank you.”

You took the bouquet and walked over to Penelope, handing the glass vase over to her. “Will you please tell Derek that these are beautiful and that I’m so sorry—” You sneezed three times in a row, and by then you were too exhausted to even try talking anymore, so you just groaned and waved goodbye to the rest of Derek’s friends before dragging yourself out of the bullpen.

The next thirty minutes went on as usual, until Derek walked into the bullpen. He had been gone all morning doing a profiling seminar for academy recruits, so he had missed your quick descent into your allergic reaction.

His face fell slightly when he saw your empty desk, and it fell even more when he saw the flowers he had bought sitting on the corner of Prentiss’s desk and his entire team talking amongst themselves.

Derek walked up to them, a frown etched on his face. “Did they not show up for work today?” he asked.

“I sent them home,” Hotch explained, and if Derek didn’t know any better, he could have sworn that he saw the hint of a smirk on the corner of Hotch’s mouth.

Spencer’s smirk, on the other hand, was not even close to being hidden. “Hey Morgan, did you know that pollen allergies affect up to 20 million adults? And sunflowers and flowers in the aster family are considered some of the worst flowers for people who suffer with pollen allergies, since the pollen is so easily dispersed by the wind.”

Realization set in Derek and he cursed under his breath. You had mentioned once in passing that you liked the look of sunflowers, so he had assumed that those were the best flowers to get you. Clearly, he was wrong.

Noticing his dejected look, Garcia quickly interjected. “But they said that they’re beautiful and they looked like they really loved them,” she comforted. “And they wanted me to tell you that they’re sorry.”

Derek shook his head. How did he not know that you were allergic? That seemed like a pretty big thing. “No, they have nothing to be sorry for. I’m going to go wipe down their desk, make sure that it’s clean for them tomorrow.”

The team watched as Derek went over to your desk, taking his time to make sure that there was no flower residue left. They all quickly went back to discussing the bet, changing up their predictions now that they had more evidence to go off of.

Surprisingly, instead of going back to his office, Hotch spoke up. “Morgan isn’t used to being told no. He’s going to break down and beg.”

The team looked at Hotch incredulously. “I’ve never seen Morgan beg for anything,” JJ pointed out, and Hotch just shrugged.

“Well, are you willing to put your money where your mouth is?” Prentiss pressed.

Hotch sighed and shut the file he was holding. “I try not to make a habit out of betting on my subordinates' love lives.”

Rossi rolled his eyes. “He knows he’s wrong, he just wants to be a contrarian,” he told the team, baiting Hotch.

Hotch narrowed his eyes slightly. If anybody else had said that, he would have been able to walk away, but this was Rossi. So Hotch reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty from his wallet.

“None of this goes on any sort of record.”

~~~~~~~

“Derek Morgan, you got shot?”

You stood up from your desk as soon as you saw Derek and his team walk through the glass doors. It was way after hours, but the news of a shoot out at their last crime scene got back to you, and there was no way you were going to be able to go home knowing that Derek got hurt.

The rest of the team all shared a glance and quickly dispersed, giving you and Derek as much privacy as possible.

Derek made his way over to you, trying to look like he was in less pain than he actually was. “Don’t worry, hot stuff,” he told you, slumping down into his seat. “It just hit my vest.”

You stormed over to where he was sitting, worry evident on your face. “Yeah, I’ve been shot in the vest before!” you reminded him. “It still hurts like hell! What were you thinking?”

Derek forced a smile and held your hand in one of his own. “Baby, I’m okay. Really. I could even show you, if you wanted proof. Then you can stare at my abs without feeling guilty.” He took his free hand and started to lift up his shirt, and you quickly yanked your hand away from his.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, already in the process of storming away from him. “I cannot believe that you are seriously hitting on my right now. You just got shot and you’re asking me out? Agh!”

You started to walk away but Derek caught your hand just in time, laughing as he did. “Okay, don’t go, I’m sorry. I just…” he trailed off, suddenly getting serious. “I just really needed to see your smile.”

You mustered up the best smile you could. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Derek let out a long, audible exhale. “So am I,” he admitted. “I’ve never been more glad to be here doing paperwork.”

You rubbed your hands on the tops of your thighs. “I have some leftover takeout that I had for lunch. How about I heat that up and we can share it while I help you with your work?”

“You don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine.”

You shook your head. “No, I’ll stay. I have nothing else to do.”

Derek grinned and kissed the top of your hand. “You’re too good to me.”

You smirked. “I know.”

Pretty soon, the two of you were hunched over his desk, sharing bites of dinner and chatting easily as you trudged through paperwork.

You quickly learned that he liked to read Kurt Vonnegut and that his eagle tattoo was because of a nickname he had gotten in college. You told him about your fear of the ocean and the time you accidentally set off your high school’s fire sprinkler system during chemistry.

It was nice to be able to just talk to him. It felt like you and him had been friends for years and years, not just the past two months. This Derek Morgan was different from any other version of him, and you loved it. If you didn’t already have the biggest crush on him, this just solidified it. You really, really liked him, and you really, really wanted him to just ask you on a date already.

As the night went on, the two of you had moved closer and closer, until your shoulders bumped and your legs were pressed up against each other. If you both turned your faces to look at each other, your noses would brush. And from there, it would only be a few centimeters until your lips would be on each other…

“Thank you for helping me with this,” he said suddenly, breaking you out of your fantasy. He turned towards you, and you could feel his hot breath on your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “You didn’t have to stay, but… it meant a lot that you did.”

You smiled and tried to control your erratic heartbeat. “It was no problem. I’m happy to do it, anytime. Are you feeling any better?”

“A little,” he admitted. “But do you know what would make me feel even better?”

You finally turned to look at him, and his face was so much closer than you expected. “What is that?” you whispered, unable to force yourself to speak any louder.

Derek’s lips quirked up in a smile and he moved impossibly closer to you. His lips were brushing against yours, and all you had to do was lean in just a little bit. Then he met your eyes, and they really did sparkle, and for the first time in his adult life, Derek lost all of his nerve.

“You could kiss it better,” he suggested. “Because you are much hotter than any of the EMTs at the scene.” Derek grimaced internally, knowing that he came off sounding like an asshole. All he had to do was ask you on a date. It should have been easy. So why couldn’t he?

You closed your eyes and sighed exasperatedly, pulling away. “Wow, fumbled at the five yard line,” you teased, trying to hide your disappointment. You had thought that Derek and you were really having a moment, but maybe he really just didn’t want strings attached.

Derek frowned slightly, but tried to laugh it off. It was the first time that he thought he actually had a chance with you, and he blew it. “Yeah, I guess I did, huh?”

You fought a smile as you stood up out of your chair. “Mhm. But there’s always tomorrow. And since you’ve had such a rough past few days…”

You spun Derek’s chair around so that he was facing you, and you placed your hands on the arms of his chair, leaning over him. The two of you kept eye contact for what felt like ten years, and his cologne was making you dizzy. Slowly, you pressed a lingering kiss right on the corner of his lips. Derek’s breath got caught in his throat as you pulled yourself away, albeit on shaky legs.

“And that’s all the lovin’ you’re getting from me tonight,” you teased.

Derek leaned back in his chair, his hand over his heart in what looked to be a dramatic display of affection. In truth, he was trying to calm his rapid heartbeat however he could. “Oh, light of my life,” he cooed. “That’s more than enough. It’s the only win I’ve gotten all week.”

~~~~~~~

It had been a few days since your night in the office with Derek, and he hadn’t tried anything, which worried you. He wasn’t avoiding you, and the two of you still exchanged pleasantries throughout the day, but he wasn’t flirting with you anymore.

Part of you wondered if you were too harsh with him that night, if you should have just kissed him and gone home with him. But within the past few weeks, your infatuation with Derek Morgan had turned into a full blown crush, as juvenile as it sounded, and you did not want to be another notch in his bedpost. So you were willing to wait it out, to see if you would actually say the words: “Do you want to go out with me?”.

As if you had summoned him, Derek Morgan wheeled his chair over to your desk and put down a coffee cup from your favorite little cafe in front of you.

“Iced vanilla latte with oat milk?”

“You know both of my coffee orders?” you grinned. “I’m impressed.”

“Consider it a bribe,” Derek said, and you raised your eyebrow as a response.

“A bribe?”

“Please go out with me,” Derek asked, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt. “Pretty please. This was fun for a while, but now you are the only thing I think about. I can’t do my job, and I can barely sleep. I feel like I’m going crazy. You are so hot and so smart and so funny. Please let me take you on a date.”

The smile that grew on your face was so big that your cheeks started to hurt. “I’d love that.”

Derek seemed shocked that his attempt actually worked, and he blinked a few times just to make sure he heard you correctly. “Seriously? It’s a yes?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, taking a sip of the coffee Derek got you. “You finally asked me. Of course I said yes.”

“All I’ve been doing the past few weeks has been asking you,” he pointed out.

You hummed to yourself as you scrunched up your nose. “No. You told me that we were going on a date, asked me to have sex with you twice, and the rest of the times, you just used pick up lines. This is the first time you ever actually asked.”

Derek stared at your wordlessly, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to figure out what to say. Finally, he landed on: “That’s all it took?”

“Yup,” you replied, popping the ‘p’. “Although, I do want to hear more about my eyes and the meteor shower.”

Derek let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head as he did. “I will be sure to tell you all about it. And more. I’ll pick you up at 8?”

You were practically beaming as you watched Derek stand back up. “That sounds perfect. Oh, and Derek? I hope you still have those candles out and ready to use.”

“Baby, I never put them away.” Derek winked at you before walking back to his desk. Prentiss was mumbling something about owing Hotch money, but Derek was so high up on cloud 9 that he couldn’t be bothered to care.

“See Reid,” Derek said as he took his seat at his desk. “That’s what we call ‘playing the long game’.”

“Finally,” Spencer grumbled, his nose buried in some book Derek didn’t recognize. “Took you long enough to realize.”

Derek’s eyebrows furrowed together. “You knew?”

Spencer scoffed, flipping the page of the book he was reading. “I knew from the first time they rejected you.”

Derek leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk. “Man, why didn’t you tell me?”

Spencer finally looked up from his book, his eyebrow quirked up. “You were ‘playing the long game’,” he quoted in a bad impression of Derek’s voice. “And since I’m running it, I get a cut of the entire betting pool, no matter who won, so it was in my best interest to keep it going as long as possible.”

Derek shook his head in disbelief. “I see. That pretty face of yours is hiding an evil genius.”

Spencer hummed in agreement and went back to his book. There was a beat of silence before he spoke again. “They want you to take them to that Mediterranean place two blocks down.”

“Okay, there is no way you know that,” Derek groaned, rolling his eyes.

“You don’t have to take my advice, but you should. Clearly, you’re helpless,” Spencer shrugged, and Derek laughed as he threw a crumpled piece of paper at him.

When Derek picked you up that night, he made sure that the flowers he brought you were hypoallergenic, and the Mediterranean place ended up being the right choice, not that he would ever admit that to Spencer.

And he did, for the record, make sure to set out those candles he promised, but at the end of the night, the two of you were too busy tearing off each other’s clothes to even bother lighting them.

#derek morgan #derek morgan fanfic #derek morgan fanfiction #derek morgan imagine #criminal minds imagine #derek morgan x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #emily prentiss #david rossi #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #jennifer jareau #my writing

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perriewinklenerdie · 3 years

Text

Job interview (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 1,5 k

Summary: Landry Olsen goes to speak to the Head of the Diagnostic Team in hopes of working in Ethan Ramsey's team.

Warnings: None

A/N: Just Landry being Landry. And my two idiots being in love - this time with actual words being said. Also, Ethan being protective and proud - you know, like a husband.

Landry Olsen walked the halls of Bloom Edenbrook with his head held high. After two years of being gone, he felt a familiar feeling of pride at the sight of rooms and staff, no matter how many changes have taken place.

The news of a job opening in the Diagnostic Team flooded the medical community, reaching the doctors of Solomon Kenmore. In particular, Landry Olsen. It was like his dream came true once more, like he got a second chance at this.

Since his residency ended, he knew for sure that Claire’s residency was over too. For an opening in the team to happen now? It couldn’t have been a coincidence – she must have packed her bags and left, leaving a space for him to fill. Leaving him a chance to finally work by Ethan Ramsey’s side and prove to him that he was a better doctor between him and his former friend.

That’s what brought him to Edenbrook. He didn’t think to check, so blinded with his pride that he strutted to the nurse’s station, asked where the new DT office was and, as soon as he got the confirmation that the head of the team was in, walked towards the place that would grant him a new start for his career.

He straightened his shirt, shaking in anticipation to see his medical hero, sitting behind the desk, waiting for him to give him his resume – waiting for Landry to join the team, like he should have done two years ago.

A screeching sound of an alarm blared in his ears when he stepped through the door and casted his gaze onto the figure sitting behind the desk. They were hunched over a chart, drumming the pencil against the smooth surface under their palm. Their coat was draped over the back of the chair they were sitting on, completely in their element – like they owned the place.

At the sound of the steps, they spoke up. “Ethan, babe, you’re early, you said you’d be here in ten minutes- “ Claire lifted her gaze from the lines of patient information and moved it towards the person standing two meters from her. “Oh.”

They stared at each other in silence, neither sure what to do. Landry’s brain didn’t register the term of endearment she used in regards to Ethan Ramsey, too shocked by seeing her in the room to notice the additional information.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” He managed to spit out, shaking himself off mentally. She raised an eyebrow.

“Who did you expect to see? You knew I was in the team, Landry.”

“I heard about an opening in the team, and since our residencies are over, I figured that… you’d leave.” He explained, shrugging as though his line of thought was the sanest thing in the world. Claire nodded slowly, sending him a strange look.

“I see. And, well, as you can see, that’s not the case. As a matter of fact-“

“That’s the last time I let you choose our lunch option, Claire. The traffic could not have been worse.” Ethan’s voice interrupted her as he walked into the room. At the sight of a faintly familiar face, he stopped in his tracks. Only for a moment, though, because he resumed his stride pretty much immediately, joining Claire behind her desk, their food in hand. He put the boxes down, then kissed her forehead warmly.

“That’s bullshit and you know it. Besides, why couldn’t you just order? They would have delivered it, no problem.” She grinned, leaning back in her seat.

“No problem, huh? I’ll remind you of how much it’s not a problem the next time you want those cookies that they do not deliver.” He nodded towards the smaller bag on the side. She gasped, touching her chest theatrically.

“Oh my god, I love you.”

“As I love you.” Ethan replied without missing a beat, his eyes softening as he smiled at his girlfriend.

At that moment, Landry Olsen cleared his throat. The couple looked at him at once, as though they only now remembered that they had company – neither embarrassed by the situation, though.

“Right.” Claire cleared her throat, turning in her seat to face him again. “As I was saying, I didn’t leave.”

“If you didn’t leave, then who did?” Landry asked, confused beyond measure. The next words wrecked his world and he felt ground slipping from under his perfect little vision of his future.

“I did.” Ethan spoke up, leaning against the desk. He nudged Claire’s arm with his knee, winking at her, both smiling.

“So… who’s the team leader now?” He stuttered, not for the first time in the past ten minutes, unable to understand what was happening.

“I am.” Claire raised her chin confidently, her posture straightening. “So, if you still want to discuss the opening in the team with its leader, that would be me.”

Olsen looked between the couple, the reality of their relationship suddenly catching up to him. The kiss, the love confession, their closeness – all like a slap to the face, all confirming what he already knew years ago.

“I… you two- but I- “

“I don’t think he’s a good fit, if I’m being honest.” Ethan shared his opinion, turning towards her. “You’re the boss here, so the decision is yours, but he doesn’t look like he’d be able to get much done. Well.” He gave the younger doctor a dirty look, well aware of what he’s done in the past. “Maybe except for sabotaging his coworkers.”

Landry paled. He wanted to run but his body froze, and he couldn’t move a finger. Memories of the conversation he had with Claire when she realized what he’s been doing came back to him immediately. He still stood by his point – a resident leading a team? In what universe would that be happening? He opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out.

Ethan smirked at the sight, shaking his head at the younger man. He turned towards Claire and dropped his voice to a mutter. “I’ll wait for you in my office.” With a kiss to her cheek, he gathered their food and moved towards the door.

“You gave her the team because you’re sleeping with her?” Landry finally spit out, his voice pitchy and cracked. Ethan stopped immediately, turning around to reveal the stone-cold look on his face.

“I invite you to say it again and make an even bigger idiot out of yourself.” If looks could kill, Landry Olsen would be a pile of ash from how fiery Ethan Ramsey’s gaze was. “Go on, say that again.” When no other words were said, he scoffed. “That’s what I thought. You have nothing going for yourself, so you resort to bringing others down to hide your own incompetence. Truly touching. Now do us both a favor and go back to the place you came from so I can enjoy my lunch break with my girlfriend in peace.”

He glanced at Claire, his expression melting into a tender smile. “Come to my office once you’re done here.” She nodded, a barely visible gesture. He turned around, leaving the room without sparing Landry another look.

She stared at her former friend for a long minute, waiting for him to say something. When he didn’t, she sighed, deciding to take the high road. “Would you like some water?”

Landry shook his head, taking a step back. He apologized after what felt like forever, then bid her goodbye and began to leave the office. He ran into Tobias and Harper, dropping his gaze to the ground when he passed them by to avoid embarrassing himself any further. The last thing he heard before he got too far away was Tobias’s taunting voice.

“Aw, man, Ramsey said it would get good. We always miss the fun, Harps.” He nudged Harper with his elbow, both of them laughing. Claire joined in, standing up and reaching for her sweater.

“We come here to spend out lunch break with the boss and the boss is leaving?” Harper teased her playfully, knowing damn well where Claire was going. The blonde shrugged innocently.

“Sorry, guys, my boyfriend just destroyed the guy that sabotaged me two years ago. He earned some kisses at the very least.” She walked backwards, grinning. “Not to mention that he has my food. See you in a bit!”

Harper giggled at their dynamic, her shoulders shaking as Tobias reached for a piece of paper, formed the ball and then threw it at Claire. “Lock the door when you get there!”

Notes

Claire: “Would you like some water?”

Perrie: “For your newly obtained burns?”

I’ve wanted to write some Landry-being-roasted fic again for a while now, and this just jumped at me today. A splitsecond decision was made and here we are.

Long story short, I have absolutely no time to write, but I write anyway. I’m probably gonna die because of this, so it’s been fun guys <3

Jk, but not really. I’m probably going to be gone for a while because of my finals. I’ll be back as soon as possible, and in the meantime, I’m going to be here, reading and praising our Queens for giving us the content we need after OH ended.

Thank you so much for being here with me for the entirety of the OH journey, having you here means more than I can express.

See you on the other side of the war. Literally.

Love you guys so much, thank you for reading <3

Tagging separately

#open heart #ethan ramsey #playchoices #ethan x mc

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darkacademicfrom2021 · 3 years

Text

Away. So, so far away.

"There wasn’t a single moment where he could forget how fragile you were. How different your life span was compared to his —he wanted to give you all of his enormity, all of the years that wore too big on his bland and heavy life.

He couldn’t keep you by his side forever".

Pairing/s: Loki x reader, Bucky x reader

There's 2 alternative endings, a "choose your own adventure" kind of thing.

<<Previous part Masterlist Next part>>

Warnings: angst. God, believe me, this is so fucking sad. Sorry about that. Some fluff, implied smut, Odin and Frigga's A+ parenting (/s). Thor being a little bitch. Reader not wanting kids.

Total word count: 16,3K (this was supposed to be an oneshot???)

Chapter word count: 4,6K

If you had to choose the best outcome from working with the Avengers (or, more specifically, under the economic decisions of Tony Stark), it had to be the hotels he chose for the team on the missions.

The rooms were always a bliss —you would’ve never gone to such fancy places if it were up to you. You didn’t think it was worth the money at all, and you didn’t fit into the overpriced lifestyle of those who loved the five-stars everything.

But your work was something you had to do, and, let’s say the comfortable beds, big bathrooms and incredibly talented chefs making your breakfast wasn’t something you had to work hard for you to enjoy.

And now, as your sore muscles ached and your fogged head went everywhere and anywhere, you thanked greatly to be able to be there that night. Peaceful. Tranquility washing over your back in the form of drops of water.

The mirror was covered with steam and a curtain blocked your way, but you still noticed the tall figure of Loki peeping in. You heard his clothes being dropped on the floor and you kept on putting soap over your shoulders, as if he wasn’t there. You were so, so tired, you didn’t even realize that the shower was a little bit too hot for your lover. It even was too hot for you, too.

“Damn”, he gasped as he flinched away from the water. You woke up from your daydreaming and immediately turned the cold water on. The mixture of them formed a perfectly tepid temperature you both could tolerate. You learnt the hard way Loki showered on such cold water your lips would turn blue. “You alright, dear?”, he asked from behind you.

“Yeah, a little tired, not more”.

“You need some rest, take the day off tomorrow, would you?”, he purred on your ear with his hands on your shoulders, giving you a soft massage. His hands moved up to your hair, and he soon began cleaning it himself. He loved to do that for you, and you loved to feel his long fingers caress your scalp, the soap running down your body, the shampoo smell staining his own skin and leaving the shower smelling the same.

“I have to finish this mission up”, you mumbled. “But once we’re back to the compound you bet we’re taking a day off together. You must be tired too”.

“Not that much, but I can’t deny a day off with you”, you felt him smile, even though you weren’t facing him. You knew how and when he smiled; you memorized the curve of his lips and every situation it would curve. His smile did things to you. “You know I don’t get tired off of these things”.

“Yeah, it’s almost like you’re a God or something”.

You both laughed softly. He gently pulled your head back and cleaned off the shampoo. He kissed your temples, all the way down to the nape of your neck, and kept kissing each protuberance of the spine, bone by bone, as if missing one would make it feel left out. As if every inch of you, every single bit of you, deserved the same praise and the same love —it did. He made sure you knew that.

“It’ll be all over soon”, he promised in a whisper. You sighed.

“Don’t worry, my love. It will pay off”, you assured him. You turned around to face his furrowed brows. Standing in your tiptoes, you reached his forehead and planted a kiss where his frown disappeared as if by magic. “Now it’s my turn to wash your hair”. He smiled and kneeled before you, so you could reach his head.

You shampooed and conditioned his hair slowly and silently. He closed his eyes, not letting you know he was overthinking about everything he was making you do, and how much he appreciated you doing it.

“You know…”, he murmured, his deep voice almost getting mistaken by a groan if it weren’t for the clearly spoken words, “we could stop all of this, if you see it… surpassing your limitations”.

He opened his eyes and raised his head to meet yours. Those puppy eyes of his. You scoffed.

“Limitations?”, you cocked an eyebrow and smirked teasingly.

He laughed and rolled his eyes.

“You know you’re a weakie”, he said jokingly, emphasizing on how bad that word described you at his gaze. “Now, seriously. I’m aware it’s a lot. A lot, lot”.

“Love, you don’t have to keep worrying about it. I accepted because I love you so, so much. Some even could say too much”, you caressed the back of his head and sank your fingers in between the curled strands. “I may not agree with it ideologically, but I can make a little sacrifice if that means being with you for the rest of my life. And, for the record, it’s not as much as you think”.

He didn’t say anything else to that. He simply smiled again, pressed lips in the tiniest curve, as if repressing it would make it last longer, and let you wash the conditioner off him.

You could do very well with a day off, though. Between the missions that seemed to never stop and only get worse week by week, and the infinite amount of trials you had to go through by the Asgardian royals, you thought you may pass out any time soon.

The trials… ah, the weirdest thing you’ve ever had to do in your life. And that was not little to say, for you had fought freaking aliens and helped supersoldier’s wounds to heal in a matter of seconds with Stark’s subdermic nanotech.

Loki had a possibility, a chance to have everything he ever wanted to have, and he could’ve taken it. They said ‘you can have the throne now’, as if it had always been that easy, and he didn’t take it right away, as if it hadn’t been the thing he most wanted.

“The thing I most want, little darling, is you”, he told you when he explained what had happened.

And you swore he was about to propose —he almost took off a damn ring off his pocket. But he didn’t, and instead, he related carefully and detailedly what had to happen before he could marry you, if he were to get the throne. You had to show your in-laws you were a good companion for the King.

And that sucked. Why did it matter so much? You loved him and he loved you, and he was going to be a great King. That was all that mattered for both of you. But the conditions were very clear, and had no room for argument. And you wouldn’t let Loki give up his unfulfilled wish to rule the realms, nor would he give it up now that he had the chance.

So there you were, balancing between the missions and the trials. Which were very sexist, in fact. Who would’ve thought royals and Gods would be so conservative? You laughed. They varied between many housekeeping duties, archery, Asgard’s history, a lot of politics, the cooking and baking of different Asgardian treats, and a lot of those idiotic kind of trainings of putting books over your head and walking in heels. They said they had to transform an avenger into royalty, and you almost laughed in their face. Loki did.

It was impossible you'd ever actually become who they wanted you to change into. A submissive and silent companion, not possessing any other ability than smiling politely and attending your husband's needs? You were so incredibly far from even being like that, that not even Strange could see a reality in where you'd do it.

But you could pretend. You passed the first dozen trials, and passed them well. Odin had started growing a certain liking to your attitude, much unlike Frigga, who was increasingly repulsed by it. She was trying her best in transforming you, a lost cause in her eyes, into whatever she found fitting to accompany her younger son.

"Your mother's idea of a 'good' partner is very different from mine", you said over a glass of wine, waiting for dinner to finish cooking. Loki was sitting over the counter reading a book. He closed it over his lap and marked the page with a wooden spoon that was on handy.

"Mine too", he sighed. "She doesn't see that you already are perfect".

"I don't think she'd see me with your eyes".

"You must remember she was raised to be the princess that would someday marry Odin. She has no other view of marriage than… changing the true self. Much as she taught me shapeshifting, we have all learnt different ways to hide underneath a veil of lies and deceiving".

You took in his sincere words and went back to silence for a while. He didn't go back to his book, instead, he looked at you. He wanted to know what you were thinking about, but asking felt like an intrusion of some sort. You looked back at him, an invitation to ask. He then asked,

"How do you feel about it?".

You nodded with no reason to nod. Pressed your lips in a line, a smile that wouldn't form just yet. Not for this.

"I sincerely don't know", you finally said. He hummed. "I love you, that's all I know. My perception of marriage doesn't mean giving everything and everyone up. But again, in my perception of marriage I never thought I would actually marry a prince. I know this is how it is. I know this is what has to be done".

"It doesn't", he jumped off the counter and surrounded your waist with his arms, resting his head on your shoulder. "Love, this can be solved. I don't want you to resign everything and everyone. This is not how it has to go if you don't like it. Say the word. Say the word and…", he sighed.

"And you'll resign your everything and everyone?", you chuckled.

"You're my everything and everyone, I wouldn't be resigning anything I don't already have".

"Liar. You want this", you said almost in a whisper. Turning around to face him, you cupped his face and kissed his chin. "You can have it. I'm sorry, I don't want you to feel guilty".

"I have reasons to feel that way".

"I'm just being dramatic".

"You're not".

"I really am", you assured him. Love sometimes was protecting him from your thoughts. Love sometimes was waking up from a nightmare where he died and not telling him about it. Love sometimes was not worrying him and lying. Or was it? Were you protecting him or were you creating a demon? "This is your big chance. Do I have a big chance here? I don't. My big chance so far has been being by your side. You make me blindly happy. I don't care if I have to change some things to please your parents, we both know I wouldn't actually change. We can see underneath the acting. You know me".

"I know you enough…", he started saying, with no need to finish it. I know you enough to know you don't want this.

"Let's have dinner", you smiled, and he kissed your forehead.

Love sometimes was accepting, he thought. Accepting you didn't want to talk about it that much. Love sometimes was sharing time. Sharing that glass of wine while sharing moments in the kitchen. Sharing the dinner you cooked together. Sharing time. Sharing. And this… Loki knew he wasn't sharing. He was taking his chance and making you go through it without you wanting it. But you shared —your life, your motivations, your fears, most of your thoughts. And you shared your thoughts about it, yet he could sense that wasn't all. You were keeping some worries to yourself, and that was what preoccupied him the most.

In the training room, you avoided Thor’s blasts and threw your daggers, trying to practice over the little things the Queen had taught you. Loki observed from afar, not wanting to distract you. He stared proudly, knowing who he was going to marry. It was not bad at all.

You had started liking that part of the training. You catched interest for Asgard’s history, politics, and the trainings of archery and dagger-fighting. You grew fonder of the idea of living in his Palace, and, to him, nothing sounded better than you calling him my King in front of everyone. But, whatever would come for the future, would come brightly.

You weren’t closer with Thor than with any other Avenger. And you weren’t exactly friends with anyone. You got along pretty well. Tony Stark liked your fierce personality, and laughed at the contrast between your bitterness in the field to your kind essence in any other situation.

Steve Rogers constantly pointed out how hilarious it was that someone like you would end up with someone like Loki. Both took it personal —Loki thought it was an offence to him, “how could someone as caring and sweet as you end up with that mass murderer”. You thought it was an offence to you, “how could someone as dull and incompetent as you end up with a literal God”.

Natasha Romanoff… She didn’t talk much. But, unlike James, she didn’t even try to communicate. James was interesting, and you were sure you would call him a friend, someday. He wasn’t very talkative, but he was always there. Always laughed at your jokes. He memorized your coffee order. He liked the same shows you did and watched them with you, in silence. He was quiet, but his actions spoke to you much more than any other Avenger. Although, James “Bucky” Barnes, was not an Avenger. Much like Loki. He was just there, he was always helping.

“How are the trials?”, asked Thor, avoiding one of your daggers without much effort. You weren’t actually good at it. Thor had learnt to avoid them for the last thousand years.

“I have a week left, and then it’s done. I think I’m doing pretty good”, you said, hiding your exhaustion. Thor was barely moving and you couldn’t catch up to him as much as you tried. He laughed when you fell, and helped you up, only to blast you again with a tiny electric wave, that at that point you felt no more than a tingling sensation.

“My son”, heard Loki from behind him. He turned around and made a small reverence to her. She smiled and stood by his side, observing you too. “I see their determination”.

“Nothing better for a King’s companion, yes?”, he said, proud dripping off his words. Frigga rolled her eyes and nodded. She wasn’t amused that Loki, from all the choices he had, had chosen a dull midgardian to follow him for less than a century. And then he’d had to choose again. Hopefully, someone who would live longer than a damn heartbeat.

“We ought to have a little talk, boy”, she finally said, and Loki’s heart tightened with nervousness. Very few people managed to get him that nervous over a couple of words. “Join me to a more… private space”.

They walked in silence until his room seemed like the best option. Room was a formal way to call it, for it was huge as an apartment. You both had managed to make a standardized-looking studio apartment into a cozy space, decorated with care and dedication. It was obvious Loki’s good taste and your inherent warmth had a big role on the decorations.

Frigga roamed around the room, observing the hung pictures and passing a finger through the white Christmas lights. She stopped at a particular photograph of Loki and you ice skating. He was carrying you as if you were a feather-weight doll, your seemingly cold hands wrapping his blue neck. Frigga stared at the actions developing at that moment. Under your cold touch, he was half transformed in his Jötun form, completely comfortable. You looked at his eyes with a glimmer that Frigga knew it to be the same Loki looked at you with. You were both laughing, and he seemed to have carried you up bridal style only to tease you into throwing you into a snow pile.

“Mother?”, Loki pulled her off of her thoughts. She turned around. “You wished to talk about something”.

“You seem… in love”, she murmured under a confusing expression. Despite Loki’s perceptiveness, he couldn’t figure out if his mother was repressing a smile or holding back a frown of sadness. Perhaps both.

“I am, mother”, he admitted, appearing a mug of tea in her hand and inviting her to sit on one of the couches. “If I must be sincere with you, as I always have been, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way for anyone”.

“For a mortal, Loki…”, she sighed and sipped her tea. “You know what will happen now. You’re so… attached”.

“As attached as you are to Father, not as one is to a puppy pet”, he clarified.

“But much more like a puppy pet, they’ll live less than a quarter of your life. Much less. In fact, you’ll blink twice and you’ll be by an empty space on your bed, my dear”.

“I certainly hope you’re getting to a point here”, he scoffed. He’s had this conversation countless times before, and his mother never gave in.

“There is this last thing in the trials…”, she said, raising her eyebrows and getting up to pace around the room once again, barely watching over the decens of good moments in pictures you had displayed on the wall. “One thing that has to be surely not optional”.

Loki sipped on his own tea, looking out the window. He watched the spider boy try the man of iron’s flying boots and crush against a window. It was a much better thing to have his mind on, than in what his mother had just implied.

He didn’t realize it, but a few tears formed in the corners of his eyes, and he had to swallow harder to speak his mind. The implication alone of what that meant… he knew all of this would crumble under his touch. Sooner or later, he would have to make a choice, and he’d choose the wrong thing.

Both options were the wrong thing. There was no way out. There was no right path to follow.

“There has to be a way out of this question. Of this decision”, he hurried. His mother chuckled.

“Given your reaction, son, it doesn’t sound like there’s much to decide. It’s an answered question, and we all know it”.

“Yet you thought it wise to pull them through all of these trials, all of these…”, his lips trembled, and he had to stop to take a breath. “To rouse us with the illusion of the better life we always dreamed of?”.

“I had warned you about it, Loki. There is no us in your daydream for the throne. And much less with a short-lived being such as a midgardian. I had warned you”, she repeated, and rage boiled on Loki’s veins.

“Why is it that everytime I get a glimpse of what a good future could look like, it gets destroyed before it arrives?!”, he lost his temper, raising his voice. The tea fell to the carpeted floor and he didn’t even look at it. Frigga didn’t flinch, and walked closer to him. She gave him an arm-length grab on his shoulders that was supposed to calm him down.

“Hush, little boy… this is for…”, she tried to soothe the wound she opened, but he interrupted her before she could say anything else.

“For my own good? Were you going to say that, Frigga?”, he hissed. His mother dropped the arms. She didn’t like when he called her by name. It implied things he had implied before, and were no less true than what he felt like. Apart. Away. “And must I remind you I’m not a little boy you need to protect and make decisions for? This is ridiculous. I’m given, once again, the illusion of the choice”.

“Oh, Loki, when have I ever given you a golden apple you couldn’t actually reach?”, she folded her arms, furrowing her brows. “I’ve taught you magic so you could be unstoppable. I’ve raised you equally, despite your roots. I’ve…”, she enlisted, and Loki’s chest hurt so tightly he thought he’d finally die. He couldn’t speak. “I’ve left everything to your reach. Your arm just wasn’t long enough. You could’ve stretched it further, yet you decided to go for another apple, and that, my son, is not our fault”.

Loki sat on the floor, and she stayed standing. The height difference that would always make her look up at him was now gone, dissolved as the confidence Loki had gathered in the past few years he’s been living in Midgard, away from all of those words. Away from what he considered at some point, the truth. And you weren’t there to hug him and squeeze the lies away —it wasn’t true, it wasn’t true, it wasn’t true, he repeated himself like a machine. It wasn’t true, although it felt so much like it.

“Loki? You haven’t said a word in…”, she began saying, rotting her patience of steel.

“What would you like me to say?”, he asked, blinking some tears away. He got up, not letting her see how much smaller he felt now. Words are just words. “Perhaps you could facilitate me with a script, so I would never wrong my path again, yes?”, he spat sarcastically.

“Oh, son. You musn’t…”.

“Take this personally, I’m aware. Now, if you excuse me, my beloved will come from training any time soon now, and it would be very unpleasant for you to come across them and have to greet them, right? So I’d suggest we wrap up our little chat and you go… Queen around”.

“Now, you’re being just rude. I wouldn’t wish you to fail in anything”.

“I’ve never said that. You said that I’m just too… incompetent to reach, the apples, was it? Were you talking about Iduna’s or was it a metaphor for all the things you’ve taken from me?”.

“You’re putting words in my mouth”.

“You’re right. You’ve never taken anything from me. You’ve never given them in the first place. You’ve only put them near, so I could want them enough, and then give them to your real son”.

“You’re my son, too. You’re a real son, too, Loki”, she extended her palms for him to grab, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned around.

“Excuse me. I must have misunderstood”.

“You certainly did”.

“Perhaps it’s because I live in a world of illusions, and I’m forgetting what’s real and what’s not”.

She nodded, hiding impatience. Without saying another word, she teleported away, disappearing behind a veil of yellow lights, like a flame surrounding and consuming her.

Loki dropped to the floor again, and inhaled and exhaled, inhaled and exhaled, inhaled…

“Love?”, you asked, dropping your water bottle on the table without unlocking your eyes from him. You kneeled next to him immediately. “Love, what’s happening? Are you bad?”.

If he wasn’t in such a state, he would’ve laughed at the comparison of what caring for the other meant in your eyes and his family’s.

He didn’t let you see his face —torn apart, wet with cold tears that solidified to the touch of his skin, the blue form that couldn’t hide when he was too upset, or too broken, like he was right then.

He sank in your arms, hugging you as tightly as he allowed himself to. Grasping for your touch, for you to never leave him, for your soul to never leave your body and stay with him for the rest of his life.

His mother was right, he thought. He was all she said he was, and that hurt him. But it stung him even more when he knew how right she was about his short-lived being beloved. He was going to pull away from your hug and you would take a few more breaths, and that was it. And your worried face, frowning your expression as you couldn’t see what had taken over his lover this time, would become cold as marble.

“Please, please—I can’t live without you, not like this—not anymore”, he sobbed over your neck, sinking deeper into the embrace you would oh so tightly hold and hold —you wouldn’t let him go, not ever, not if you had the chance to. And Loki knew you would actually do it. He’d lose you because you would never agree to that, and with good reason.

“You don’t have to, I’m not leaving. I’m here, Loki. I’m here, love, and you’re alright. Deep breaths, breathe with me, love, come, breathe with me”, you helped him calm down, rubbing big circles on his back, your palms open and warm trying to cover the immensity of him compared to you.

There wasn’t a single moment where he could forget how fragile you were. How different your life span was compared to his —he wanted to give you all of his enormity, all of the years that wore too big on his bland and heavy life.

He couldn’t keep you by his side forever.

He could, on the other hand, keep you as far as he could manage to.

He was already stable, now. You cuddled him on the couch, weighted blanket surrounding his body, a few ice cubes inside a bag for his forehead and neck —you knew it would always make him feel less pushed, keeping his Aesir form costed an extra amount of energy he sometimes couldn’t handle to bare— and your hand kept brushing his hair, braiding it, letting him know he was safe.

He opened his eyes and there you were —an angel, a healer caring for his wounds. He sighed at your sight, and embarrassed himself for even thinking about it. No, no. Of course he would choose you. He would never choose the throne if he had to give you up. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

He raised a hand to cup your cheek.

“I’m sorry”, he whispered.

“Don’t be”, you assured.

“I… I have to ask”.

“Tell me”.

And so he asked,

“Would you, ever, at any given point of your life, want to have a child with me?”.

You stayed silent. You looked at him, every bit of his face, every expression that would tell you what he was actually thinking about. Why was he asking this now? After all of this? He knew the answer, why would he bring it up again?

And then it hit you.

“Your Mother was here”, you lowered your gaze. Your legs started bouncing.

“She was”.

“This is a condition”.

“It is”.

“Heir”.

“Not more and not less”.

“What will we do?”, you asked, raising your eyebrows. As you looked for Loki’s eyes to be wet, to have any emotion of regret, they weren’t. He was hiding them very well.

“We will stay here. No more trials. No more boring royal things for you to learn”.

“This can’t be possible”, you frowned in concern. “Loki, this is the thing you most want. You can’t give it up for this”.

“For what? For being with the love of my life? I certainly can and will”, he smiled. It was a sad smile, you noticed. His eyes couldn’t hide what his lips tried to. He noticed you didn’t believe him. “We’ve talked about this over and over. I will bargain more. But as for now, I can see the most likely option will be this one. I propose we get comfortable. You once talked about a house by the mountains and cats, right?”.

“Don’t change the topic, mister”, you frowned and he laughed. You hugged him tightly, and murmured in his ear “are you sure you want this?”.

“So, so sure, my little darling”.

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hyperfixatedimagines · 3 years

Text

The Moon & her Star: Ch 2

Summary: Star crossed lovers trying to make it work but as outside pressures get to them will they choose to stay together?

A/N: Thank you to those that enjoyed the first chapter. I hope you like this one.

(Y/N) knew what their arrangement would be before Luna had even finished kissing her.

She knew Luna would never be with her in the light of day.

Not because they were both girls, Monet had been out and proud since seventh grade (allegedly), but because (y/n) didn’t come from old or new money.

She came from no money.

Luna’s lungs were beginning to burn but she didn’t want to stop kissing (y/n). She knew the moment she stopped (y/n) they would have to talk about the harsh reality of their situation. Luna had plans, plans she couldn’t let (y/n) derail. But god- (y/n)’s lips felt so good. She wanted to throw it all away and keep kissing (y/n) forever.

The first month of their clandestine relationship was heaven, or as close as (y/n) ever thought she’d get.

(y/n) loved the secret touches as they’d pass each other in the halls, their fingertips just barely brushing the other’s.

(y/n) loved the adrenaline rush of kissing Luna in the shadowy corners of Constance halls, classrooms, and the occasional girls’ bathroom stall.

Most importantly, (y/n) loved spending evenings in the theater building basement going over her lines with Luna.

Thanks to their passionate kiss that night (y/n) had been able to pull herself together for her audition, and she nailed it.

(y/n) was cast as the female lead for the spring musical, as Maria in west side story.

So she had Luna help her by running lines ,and practicing the choreography together. Luna hated to admit how much she enjoyed the theater, and especially how much she enjoyed acting alongside (y/n).

“You’re overthinking it (y/n),” Luna said as she gently brushed some flyaways from (y/n)’s face.

“Or maybe I’m not thinking enough. This is my one chance Lune, if I don’t-”

Luna cut her girlfriend’s self sabotage off with a delicate finger to (y/n)’s lips.

“(Y/n), you are so insanely talented. These past few weeks that I’ve run lines with you I can see that your star is going to burn so bright. Please don’t overthink it, let your intuition guide you.”

(Y/N) didn’t know how to respond. She’d never heard Luna talk like that.

Luna dropped her finger from (y/n)’s mouth and went to grab the script she’d left on a nearby table. “Now, let’s do another run of the scene at the end of act one.”

“The kissing scene,” (y/n) asked, even though she knew that was exactly what Luna was referring to.

Luna wrapped her arms around (y/n)’s neck.

“I think you need a little more practice,” Luna teased.

(Y/n) wrapped her arms around Luna’s waist, pulling her closer.

“Oh really? Well if it’s for the show, we must practice.”

Luna nodded. “Of course, we have to get it just right. Even if that means doing it over and over,” Luna leaned in closer, “and over again.”

Their lips met and the world around them disappeared. Only their lips and beating hearts mattered.

If only it had stayed that way.

The second month of their relationship was….rocky.

As the spring musical approached (y/n) became more and more stressed, unable to enjoy the shadowy kisses and forbidden glances.

Luna tried her best to comfort (y/n) but she had problems of her own to deal with. Her parents were staying at the New York residence less and less. Luna knew it was because of their busy schedules but a part of her wondered if it was them choosing to be away from her.

And then there was Julien.

She had be gaining quite a following online, and wasn’t sure what to do with all the growing attention. Monet had mobilized, but Monet knew exactly what she wanted to do with life. Monet had a clear ten year plan to success, and it included Luna.

There was no Luna without Monet and no Monet without Luna. They had best friends since seventh grade. They both wanted success and would stop at nothing to achieve it.

So they became Julien’s management team. Monet focusing on the business side and Luna the fashion side.

Which left Luna and (y/n) little time to sneak away and pretend they weren’t star crossed lovers.

Luna still came to the theater building basement to be with (y/n) but she was focused on planning Julien’s outfits for the week.

“Lune if you aren’t mentally here what is the point of you being physically here,” (y/n) spat.

She had such little time left until opening night and the director was on her ass about her dancing. The least Luna could do was pay attention the few hours of the day she saw her.

Luna put her phone down, screen side up, next to her on the bench.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

Luna’s phone buzzed with notification after notification. Luna glanced at the phone before guiltily looking back at (y/n).

“Forget it,” (y/n) replied.

(Y/N) sighed and walked over to her book bag.

“I think we should go. I doubt I’m gonna nail the final dance number tonight.”

Luna grabbed her phone and began typing away.

“I won’t be able to see you Saturday. Julien needs me to help her pick out a dress for spring formal.”

(Y/n)’s shoulders sagged. Not surprised Luna cancelled their date yet again.

“Spring formal? Isn’t that months away?”

Luna looked up at (y/n) incredulously. “Do you think the perfect dress just magically appears a week before an event?”

“You’re right, I guess.”

Luna softened. “It’s important to Julien I be there.”

“Then you have to go, be a good friend.”

(Y/n) turned to kiss Luna goodnight but Luna’s phone pinged and once again Luna had mentally left the building. (Y/n) sighed.

“Crap, I have to go meet Monet. I’ll see you next Tuesday?”

She gave (y/n) a quick peck on the lips before leaving.

(Y/n) stood there, wondering where her Luna had gone.

In the two weeks leading up to opening night (y/n) hadn’t seen or talked to Luna at all.

Sure she’d seen Luna in class but she knew better than to try to talk to Luna in front of Luna’s friends.

(Y/n)’s texts had been left on delivered for days.

If Luna did respond it was a quick, I promise we’ll meet up soon.

Soon never came.

(Y/N) tried her best to focus on her role, but all she could think about was her failing relationship.

She missed Luna.

And as the distance between them grew the more (y/n) came to resent the secrecy of their relationship.

If people knew they were together then (y/n) and Luna could spend more time together. They’d be able to hold hands in the halls like Aki and Audrey. They could sit together at lunch, and even hang out at each other’s homes.

The more (y/n) thought about what she and Luna could be, the more bitter she became because she knew Luna would never accept it.

(Y/N) stared at Luna in class, wondering if Luna was worth the ache in her chest.

Opening night was one day away. (Y/n) had been on edge but that day she was radioactive.

She was messing up her lines, and forgetting dance steps.

The director was worried, and had even threatened to replace (y/n) with her understudy- a freshman. This was her big chance. She couldn’t mess it up now…but she was afraid she was going to.

So she stayed late that day, forcing herself to get it all right.

And it was paying off. That evening (y/n) hadn’t missed one line, and every step was filled with grace.

“You’re going to be the best Maria Constance has ever had.”

(Y/N) turned around, elated at the sound of her lover’s voice.

“Lune!”

She ran towards Luna. Luna stepped into the room meeting (y/n) halfway.

(Y/N) leaned in to kiss her but Luna turned away.

“Is something wrong?”

Luna sighed. “I didn’t want to do this tonight. I know how important tomorrow is to you but-“

(Y/N)’s stomach twisted into knots. She knew what was coming. She’d known this was always going to be the outcome of their relationship. (Y/N) had just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon.

“Don’t. Please Luna not tonight.”

Tears started to prick at the edges of Luna’s eyes.

“(Y/N), you and I both know this isn’t working. Why go on pretending another day?”

(Y/N) balled her fists. “Maybe because tomorrow night is the most important day of my life? And having my girlfriend break up with me the night before is beyond cruel.”

Luna turned to face (y/n). “I’m not doing this to hurt you I-“

“It’s kinda hard to see it any other way.”

Luna wiped away the tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

“Monet and I are going to spring formal together.”

“What?” (Y/n) staggered backwards onto a nearby bench, the wind knocked out of her.

“She asked me a few days ago and I told her I would.”

(Y/N)’s chest began to ache. “Do you have feelings for her?”

Luna sighed. “That doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter? If you’re breaking up with me for Monet I deserve to know.”

Luna took a seat next to (y/n) on the bench.

“I’m not breaking up with you for Monet. I just- when she asked me to the dance I hesitated and she asked if I already had a date.”

Luna turned to (y/n).

“And I realized that we hadn’t talked about spring formal. I realized we hadn’t really spoken in weeks…..I realized it was so easy to forget we were together because we never really had been in the first place. Kissing in the bathroom stall and hanging out in this basement once a week isn’t a relationship (y/n)…we both deserve better.”

Tears ran down the sides of (y/n)’s face as she tried hard to not look at Luna. If she looked at Luna she knew she’d beg Luna to stay.

So she stared at the ground instead. “And we both know you’ll never be better,” (y/n) said with as much venom in her voice as she could muster.

Luna’s stomach sank. She knew (y/n) was right. Luna wanted to be better for (y/n), but she couldn’t be. She was a coward. So she took the coward’s way out and said nothing.

Luna stood up and walked to the door. Just before leaving she turned back to (y/n).

“Break a leg tomorrow night (y/n).”

(Y/N) waited until the door closed behind Luna before breaking down completely. She sobbed into her hands, feeling her lungs burn as she let out silent screams.

She had always known it would end this way but (y/n) couldn’t have predicted it would end the night before her grand debut.

Opening night was a blur to (y/n).

All she remembered of the night was the heat of the stage lights, and the silence of the crowd.

The silence. The deadly silence. And the scorching heat.

(Y/N) had waited for that night for months, years even, and now that it had come all (y/n) could think about was Luna La’s peach lip gloss.

She remembered the heat of the stage lights and the silence of the crowd…then she remembered darkness.

#gossip girl 2021 #gossip girl imagine #gossip girl #gossip girl reboot #luna la #luna la imagine #zion moreno

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azaleavi · 3 years

Text

Woman Like Me - Part 4

Summary: Bucky is a tease when it comes to y/n and she can barely hold back anymore

Warning(s): death, language

Word count: 2.1k

Author's note: I’ll be honest i’m not really happy with this one, but this is the best I can do right now.

Feedback is always appreciated and don't forget to reblog and like if you liked it and want to see more. Thank you!

Masterlist

Your mind was running a thousand miles per hour, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for John so he doesn't put you behind bars or worse, kills you... well tries to anyway. He pulled his arm from the shield that was still pinned to the table by the spear, his eyes not leaving you. You stared back, not willing to be the one who breaks eye contact, that would mean you are ashamed of what you are. The man stood up and marched towards you, only for Bucky to stand in his way. Sam walked up next to you as you held your hand out for the wakandan woman to take. She took it as she stood up, nodding her head. You guessed it meant she had no hard feelings.

"You care to explain the little stunt you just pulled?" John raised his voice. Bucky put his metal arm - that was back in it's place - on his arm in warning. It wasn't like you needed protection, but it was still nice for him to stand up for you.

"You want me to explain what you clearly saw? Did you hit your head or something?" you stepped closer to him. Bucky looked back at you, a warning clear in his eyes. You would be lying if that look didn't make your legs tremble in want, but now wasn't the time to think about that. Instead you shut your mouth. John shook Bucky's hand off of him and finally reached you, standing way too close for your liking.

"Do not get smart with me little girl, it can get you locked up somewhere cold forever." he hissed. You flexed your jaw, wanting to just punch him at least once.

"Oh yeah? Let's see how you do that with your head missing from your shoulder Cap" the mock clear in your voice at the last word.

"Okay let's calm down" Sam stepped between you with his hands up. Bucky put one arm around your waist and pulled you to himself so your back was flush against his chest. You straigthened your spine at the sudden contact. Sam and John arguing tuned out in the background. You could feel his breath next to your ear as he whispered to you in amusement.

"Aren't you a little feisty thing?" his arm thightened around you. Your breath hitched. Oh god. He was so enjoying this. You had half a mind to just turn around and press your lips to his, but the other people in the room probably wouldn't appreciate that so you just pushed yourself closer to him if that was even possible. In response he brushed his lips along your neck from your ear to where you neck met your shoulder. Okay that's it. You burst out from his arms, not being able to take his teasing. You whipped around to face him. His eyes were wide and his mouth slightly open like he didn't expect you to do that. He wanted to say something but the fire in your eyes was enough to shut him up. You stood in front of him, probably closer than you should have.

"If you're only going to tease me I suggest you stop" you hissed at him, tired of the game you two were playing. You have been constatly frustrated for the past 2 days because of him and you weren't sure how much longer you could take it. He needed to do something about this or stop entirely because the next time you will not let him play around. He nodded at your words with his eyes still wide so you turned back to the others. The women were looking in the bathroom, talking about how Zemo was gone. That slimy man must have slipped away when all of you were fighting. The women exited just as fast as they appeared, leaving you with the men.

"I can't believe he pulled an El Chapo" Sam walked over to the entrance to the bathroom, where the bath was moved out of the way, the lid of the drain removed.

"Well I do" Bucky walked up next to him, with you in tow.

"Don't think that this is over" John pointed at you as he and his partner walked ou the door.

"Oh I sure hope it isn't" you smiled at him. Sam put a hand on your shoulder in warning. You knew you shouldn't rile John up but then it shouldn't be this fun to do so. You looked back at Sam who was looking at you with a slight amusement in his eyes.

"Okay we need to go" Bucky grabbed his jacket and motioned for you to follow him.

---

"Okay hold on. Listen. Pack an overnight bag and take the boys." You didn't know who Sam was talking to but they seemed to be important to him and something was wrong. Maybe a wife and kids?

"What happened?" Bucky spoke before you could open your mouth to ask the same question.

"Karli called Sarah. She threatened my nephews" Sam pulled the phone away from his ears. So it's a sister not a wife.

"Okay." Sam put the phone back to his ear. "Go somewhere safe. Only pay with cash. Alright? Let me know when you get there." the woman said something on the other end. "I know. I love you. I'll never let anything happen to you ar the boys, you know that. Okay, bye." you wondered what it was like to have a family like that. Someone you are so close with, that you would do anything for them. The men stopped walking in front of you.

"Karli wants to meet. She left a contact number." just as the words left Sam's mouth he got a message. You looked at him, worried. "She said come alone" he looked at Bucky.

"I'm coming with you" the other said.

"And me too." you spoke for the first time since leaving the apartment. They looked at you and you knew what the answer was before either of them even opened their mouth.

"I can't let you come with us y/n. We don't know what will happen" Sam said with regret in his eyes.

"That's exactly why you need me. What if yomething goes wrong and you need help?" you tried to reason but they weren't having it.

"You need to sit this one out, okay? We said that I would be the one to decide whether you could come or not." Sam reminded you. You scoffed, stepping back.

'Fine, but don't come crying to me when you get your ass kicked by that girl" you turned and walked away. What am I supposed to do now? I can look around the city I guess.

You were walking along the sidewalk when you saw John running in the street. You decided to follow him because he seemed to be in a hurry and you wanted to know what was happening. You did say that they shouldn't come crying to you, but you still cared about Bucky and Sam and if John was going somewhere it was definitely related to them. You stayed hidden as he kicked in a door with Lemar on his side. They went up the stairs as you stayed hidden. Only when you heard John run up the stairs you moved after them. You were looking around quietly, trying to assess the situation when the glass roof shattered and Sam flew in. You stepped aside as he landed next to you.

"Hi" you smiled seetly at him, knowing you shouldn't be there. He only looked at you in disappointment and shook his head. Suddenly a man flew down the stairs with too much force for it to be normal. John appeared and the man tried to fight him with a metal pipe, but he easily bent it and kicked him down a few more steps. He was way too strong to be a normal human. You looked at Sam who seemed to be thinkng the same thing.

"What did you do?" he ask the new super-soldier, who's only asnwer was that they had Lemar as he quickly walked past you. Sam followed him and you were abou to do the same when you heard footsteps behind you. You turned around and it was a man wearing a mask. He stopped for a second and just stared at you with wide eyes. You looked back at him, weirded out by his staring. He shook himself out of and and started to throw punches at you. You easily blocked them and pinned him face first against the wall but he pushed backwards so you hit your back on one of the pillars. Your grip loosened because of it and he broke free. He tried to punch you in the face but you caught his hand and twisted it. His knees gave out because of the pain and it gave you the perfect opportunity to kick him in the stomach. He yelled out and you let go of him, thinking that he will stay down. You heard another set of footsteps and you turned around to see Bucky standing there, ready to fight. You back was to the masked man so you didn't see that he got back up, but Bucky did and you saw his eyes shift behind you. You realized what he was looking at when you felt movement and you turned around just in time to catch the man's hand again.

"I thought we agreed on you staying down" you joked and punched him hard enough that he was out cold before he even hit the ground. You turned back to Bucky who raised his eyebrows, impressed. You walked up to him and put your hand on his chest. "What was it that you called me? Feisty?" you tilted your head to the side and leaned closer to him so your breaths were mixing." I prefer the term strong. Thank you" you pulled away like nothing happened and walked towards where John and Sam disappeared to. The only thing indicating that Bucky had heard you was a quiet gasp that left his mouth. Two can play that game old man.

When you found the others they were in the middle of a fight with 4 masked people. You ran in to help and immediately the two women who were closer shifted their focus on you. You blocked one's punch to the stomach, but didn't count for the other who had a clear shot at your face. Fighting super-soldiers was not something you were used to, let alone two at the same time. The punch had you a little dizzy and you were thankful when Bucky appeared in your line of sight and knocked out one of them. He held you by your arm and stared into your eyes. You nodded at him in thanks. A knife flew past you that he caught in one hand. He pushed you aside and lunged at the man still holding another knife in his hand. Bucky easily threw him over his shoulder and flipped the knife in his hand then threw it at the grounf next to the man's head. Impressive. Sam kicked another masked person over the table while John was against two.

Two other people ran inside the room, one without a mask. The other you guessed was the infamous Karli, but you weren't sure as you couldn't see her face. She stopped as she caught you standing there and she ripped the mask off her face. She seemed to recognise you, but you didn't know how. Maybe she was in Madripoor at some point. The anger in her eyes was the only thing you saw before she lunged at you. Barely having time to register what she was doing you stumbled backwards, her fist missing your face by inches. Lemar appeared out of nowhere grabbing Karli by her torso and bringing her to the ground with him. She got up and punched him way too hard for a human to take. He flew backwards into a pillar, cracking it. Everything stilled. John broke free of the guy's grasp running to him and trying to wake him up. It was useless. He wasn't moving. He was dead. The masked people with Karli ran out of the room. You ran after them with Sam and Bucky, leaving John behind.

When you arrived at the square adn broke through the crowd of people, the scene you found yourself in was horrifying. John stood there with blood on his shiled, Captain America's shiled, while a man was dead on the ground in front of him. He put the shiled on his arm and looked around. Everything was so eerie about him that you said the first thing that came to your mind.

"Oh god"

Taglist: @geek-and-proud @ferxaniti @juliesland @byatomoe

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #the falcon and the winter soldier #sebastian stan #bucky #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers #marvel #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #tfatws fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky imagine #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes imagine

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imagine-organization-xiii · 3 years

Note

If i may ask; can i please have how the org 13 members act around their crush? Thank you in advance ❤️

Masterlist - Incorrect Organization XIII - Tip Jar!

You might also like: when they realize they’re in love with s/o

This was a long-ish one that’s been sitting in the back of my drafts forever lmao - I hope you all enjoy, especially since it’s a bit of long read!

Special thanks to Miss Silverspoon, PhantomMuze, and Sam for helping with Luxord, Saix, and Vexen. Such babes.

Xemnas - Least likely to actually show it. I mean, there will be signs, but it won’t be blatant that he’s acting a certain way because he’s attracted to you. There might be some favoritism (giving you better missions, not scolding you when something goes wrong, looking the other way in certain situations.)

Overall, it’s going to be subtle. You definitely won’t pick up anything weird, but the other org members might. Saix will definitely be the one to come up to you, grab you by the shoulders and give you a good shake. “Please, he’s driving the rest of us crazy.” And you’re like “what the hell???” Saix: “Xemnas has been giving you the best missions and staring at you for five minute intervals. In his language, that means he’s practically a wanton hussy.”

Xigbar - Not ashamed in the slightest. He won’t even act any different. He finds you attractive, you find him attractive (Xigbar: “Everyone finds me attractive, obviously.”) So why bother wasting time? He doesn’t really call it a crush, though. He thinks crushes are for children and he’s a man, god damn it, he doesn’t have crushes.

An unintentional sap. Before he plucks up the courage to say something to you - and it takes him longer than he will ever admit - he finds himself going soft for you. Thinks you’re pretty, instead of hot; wants to hold your hand instead of slam you against the wall. It’s a bit infuriating to him at first, but also maybe kind of worth it.

Xaldin - Ohhhh, man. He’s been in love before; he’s been hurt before. So he is ready to rein in that shit immediately. But it’s so difficult because he likes you so much and you’re so awesome. He’ll decide to give it a chance eventually, but it will take some time. He would definitely be content with just being friends, though, because he really doesn’t want to ruin what the two of you already have.

He makes sure to always be there for you. Always helps you when you need it. A gentleman in the ways that matter and a feisty, flirtatious beast in the ways that don’t. The type of guy to flirt by making sure that he takes his shirt off after a sweaty workout and casually flexes/stretches when he knows you’re watching but also makes sure you’re hydrated and wrapping your fists correctly when you spar.

Vexen - You’ll probably know about his crush before he does. He’s so absorbed in whatever his task is - his experiments, his theories, etc. - that he doesn’t even notice that his eyes linger on you and his posture automatically straightens when you walk into the lab. He’ll instinctively turn his body in your direction so that you’re almost always in his line of sight.

Doesn’t yell at you for walking into his lab when he’s obviously busy. Actually asks you for your input, likes talking to you and discussing his theories with you. You’re smart, but some of his experiments are beyond you, and he doesn’t mind explaining in simpler terms when you ask questions. It blows Zexion’s mind because he has a running tab on the different ways that Vexen throws people out of his lab and he’s never done it to you.

Lexaeus - not much for flirting. He’s come to terms with the fact that he likes you, but you’ve both known each other long enough that you know him, so there’s no way that he can pretend to act a certain way because you would know that something wasn’t right. It’s very difficult to tell that he has a crush on you - there’s no blushing, no flirting, no favoritism. He’s just his normal self.

When you finally figure it out, you realize that he showed his crush in subtle ways instead - offering a hand to pull you up after sparring, holding open a door for you, and apparently glaring at people who come up to flirt with you when he accompanies you to the market for groceries.

Zexion - “IT’S NOT LIKE I LIKE YOU OR ANYTHING, GO AWAY.” This emo little bastard doesn’t know how to deal with his emotions. He lost his heart at a really bad time, when he was still growing into himself, learning balance between anger, frustration, patience, euphoria, etc. so he’s very unfamiliar and uncomfortable with the idea that he likes you.

There may be a few gentle shoves and punches in the shoulder. He has so many feelings and has no way to put them into the world other than violence - because that’s really all he knows nowadays. But it gets better!!! You learn together.

Saix - Honestly, God help you if Saix gets a crush on you because he really doesn��t make it easy. If anything, he’ll be making your life difficult. He overcompensates about not giving you any special treatment, giving you harder and more difficult tasks/missions, or your workload might remain the same but his expectations are almost impossibly high. He’s not only trying to prove himself to the others; he’s trying to prove to himself that he doesn’t care.

He’s more difficult to be around tbh, and yeah, he’ll definitely seek you out which is a pain in the ass when you’re trying to avoid him. You’ll have to be the one to barge into his office, slam open the door, and yell at him that he’s being an asshole. He’ll probably back off a bit, but.... he’s really only rough on you because he knows you’re capable of more.

Axel - Axel falls in love unapologetically. He’s head over heels almost immediately and not even ashamed of his crush on you. Flirting becomes almost a part of your friendship because he’s just that comfortable with you. His mood is already so bright when he’s around you, but now it’s like the sun and you can’t help but meet his smile with your own grin.

But it gets to be kind of weird on his end because... you don’t realize that he’s being serious when he flirts? So many pick up lines. So many compliments. But you’re just like “oh that same old Axel haha,” and he’s left banging his head against the wall because he likes you so much but you’re so oblivious.

Demyx - He won’t even notice that he has a crush on you tbh. It will take him forever to notice. He knows he’s attracted to you, but he’s attracted to a lot of people so he didn’t think that it would be any different! A crush?? In this economy??? But he’s grateful, you know? Because there really couldn’t be a better person for him to have a crush on - like he could have a crush on Xemnas, of all people, and that would just be disastrous.

Doesn’t act differently until he realizes he has a crush. When he does realize, he’ll get nervous and clumsy. Shouting from across the hall, “HEY LET ME GET THE DOOR FOR YOU” and runs, trips, and knocks out a tooth. Just completely ridiculous stuff. You kind of notice that he’s acting strange, but it’s just Demyx, and it will probably take Vexen going up to you and saying “please put him out of his misery before he accidentally kills himself trying to flirt with you”

Luxord - Luxord is so charming, more charming than he usually is. He always has this endearing aura around him, and man, he turns it up when he tries to flirt with you. A gift giver - small things, a dessert you might like, a flower he stole from Marluxia’s garden, lunch when you’re busy, etc. Very aware of how to approach you; also knows where to stop before he goes too far. Knows how to read you pretty well in that respect.

Loves the romance that comes with having a crush because there’s so much raw potential. Feelings are confusing, they take a while to grow, but the idea that something amazing can be coming in the future is a great feeling to him. Great potential hangout ideas that don’t necessarily have to be dates, but they help you both metaphorically test the waters about what a real relationship could be.

Marluxia - arguably the most romantic out of everyone. Surprisingly?? Also the most sensible. Of the mind that, you know, if you like someone then do something about it. He has a crush on you? Why not just give it a shot, then? He’ll bring you flowers! Accompany you when you go somewhere! Take you for garden walks! Take you out to dinner!

Somewhere along the line it just becomes a relationship and not just a crush and he’s like, yeah I did this. When everyone’s like “omg how did you get her to like you back” he’s just like “because I did something about it unlike all of you idiots.”

Larxene - Listen. Listen. Larxene is a strong independent woman who doesn’t need someone else in her life to make her feel loved and powerful but damn, you’re so awesome and she has the biggest crush on you even though all of her instincts say that she’s being dumb. Will ask you to spar with her as an excuse to get close to you and don’t be surprised if she’s extra harsh when sparring - she definitely won’t be pulling her punches.

When you get closer, she’ll open up to you in a way that she won’t open up to anyone else, which is a big, obvious flag for you that her feelings may be more than friendship. She doesn’t like talking about herself or her past, so hearing things she’s never told anyone (except maybe Marluxia), makes you feel really great about being her friend.

Roxas - Man, he is such a cute little marshmallow, not shy in general but shy around his crush. He’ll do his hardest not to blush around you, but he does get nervous. So nervous, in fact, that he might make you think he doesn’t like you because he’ll tend to avoid you when he can. He doesn’t want to look stupid in front of you.

This baby feels things deeply, despite the lack of a heart. He always has felt things more deeply than others. Likes physical contact so when he gets over his fears of being around you, he’ll probably end up asking to hold your hand, randomly hugging you, giving high fives, etc.

Xion - Only really falls for people that she’s already friends with, because she knows them and she’s comfortable with them. It’s subtle for her, though. She’ll realize her crush one night and suddenly she can’t even speak to you without blushing, cheeks a bright pink against her pale skin. She’ll stutter, too, and she hates that’s she’s so nervous for no reason because you’re friends!!! And she has no reason to be nervous!!!

She’s also so helpful when she has a crush! Like Demyx, she’s eager to help you with whatever you’re doing, whether that’s mission reports, cooking, cleaning, etc. Unlike Demyx, she actually gets the job done and doesn’t get injured when trying to help. You’re always so grateful and thankful and that just makes her blush even more.

#organization xiii headcanons #kingdom hearts headcanons #organization xiii #kingdom hearts #axel #xigbar #roxas #xion #xemnas #demyx

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vinylhazza · 4 years

Text

Temptation (G.D)

Summary: Y/n is sick of being called frigid, having it shoved down her throat at every party and social gathering she attends. Her confidence is repeatedly broken, stepped on by the people that were supposed to be her friends. Grayson, a boy she’s had a secret crush on for years, is there to comfort her.

Word Count: 13.8k

Warning: Strong sexual content, smoking, blowjob, drinking *sorry mr. tAkE cArE oF yOuR bOdY grayson*

Pretentious jerks. That’s all they were. Teenagers that sat on their rich parents high horses, acting so above her every chance that they had. Robotic, inhumane, deceiving. But they were also mean, cruel, and unforgiving with their words more than anything else. They insisted it was all a joke - of course they would - said it was a system to break her into the ‘real world’. One she was sure she didn't want to belong to - not if it’s like anything they’ve shown her. Not if it’s full of sneaky spiteful assholes that didn’t care about anyone other than themselves. They insisted it was them being “good friends”. So why did it hurt so bad when threw their jokes, mockery, and snarky comments at her? Why did it hurt to not be included in on the joke but be the laughing stock of the party? Instead being on the outside looking in - to the one being laughed at.

“You’re a prude, Y/n, just accept it,” they would say, a term that she’s heard for most of her teenage years. And she knew she should have ignored it, but it never sounded better no matter how many times she heard it. Never, was it used as a compliment - of course not. Because why was it okay to be a virgin? Why would it ever be okay to want more for yourself other than a quick fuck? Why did it have to be frowned upon and embarrassing? It was meant to put her down, not make her laugh, simply said to hurt her feelings because they knew it would. They knew she would think about it hours, sometimes days, after it floated out of their mouths and into the universe - the universe that refused to cut her a break. It basically defined her entire existence in the eyes of her “friends.” It was 1. Shouted at her or 2. Laughed in her face. No in between. They said it like they weren't meaning to hurt her, even if it did. Because, when would they ever have the capacity to know what was right and wrong? Why would she ever expect anything more than the life of a frigid ‘prude’? They thought it gave them a free pass when she laughed it off with them. She wouldn't let them know it cut her deep down to her core. But it had started to weigh her down, chip away at what little confidence she had built up. She thought that maybe when she got into college, it would get better, but it only got worse.

Y/n wasn't the type to settle, thus making her very misunderstood. She wasn't what they called “frigid”. Time and time again they would throw around the word - and time and time again she chose to accept it for what it was. She just didn't want to bang it out with some random stranger like all of her friends did, instead wanting someone special that didn't just want her for her body - but saw her. Really saw her, for more than just a body. She knew it was cliché and sounded like it came straight from every romantic movie ever made, but it didn't make it any less true. She was eighteen for Christ’s sake, sitting in a room full of people that have been fooling around since they were fifteen while she sat quietly and tried to ignore the whole thing. It was humiliating. It made her sick to her stomach. It made her nervous. And most of all, it made her sad. She had never wanted to join in or acknowledge it. The thing holding her back? Her dignity: something she was very proud of. She also wasn't even the least bit interested in any of her “friends”. Romantically, and lately, even platonic.

But you would never suspect her to be a virgin, untouched, innocent, with all of her soft beauty. She had features that most guys took a double look at, stopping in their tracks, but it went unnoticed to her. She kept up her stride, walked past the men that gawked at her every step, mind focused on her next class. Never did she falter the persona she crafted carefully, a shield for her heart to hide behind. The wall that she’d built over time, not easily broken. Never would she let a precocious boy with a bad pick up line and a mind full of crude sexual desire cloud her vision - her vision of being with someone respectful, more than a lustful in the moment mistake. She would say it, she wanted better for herself.

She’s sure it’s what pissed people off the most about her, that she wouldn't spread her legs for any attractive man that showed her an ounce of attention. They say you shouldn't waste your beauty - as if getting dick made her any more of a woman than she already was. As if sex would give her value. As if falling into the trap so many teenagers fell into would make her normal. It pissed them off that she didn't flaunt her body, and she knew it. Knew they wanted her to just let loose - show her skin - be the skimpy college girl they thought she should be. She didn't show herself off with revealing clothing, flaunting herself around like her friends did, having flings with her friends just for a little bit of pleasure that she would regret later. Y/n hated how they tried to guilt trip her constantly, nudging her shoulder when any remotely attractive boy would look in her direction. Boys would try and pressure her to sway against her morals, make her think twice about hooking up with them. Of course she was tempted a time or two, but she was snapped from the thoughts just as quickly as they came.

It was unfair of them to keep trying, knowing that her answer would always be no. Begging for it didn't make them special. Making her feel like an object, a trophy they needed to obtain, a prize in a box of cereal on a shelf, didn't make them special. Not in her book, at least. Most of the time it just made her feel intimidated, objectified, disgusted, and forever left behind by a generation of people that saw women as nothing until their ‘V Card’ was swiped from their hands and claimed by someone that probably didn’t deserve it in the first place.

That’s what caused her to sit with a sorrowful pout aimed at her lap, every other shitfaced person in the small circle with her laughing at the boy’s oh so funny comment. Y/n sighed, fingers tapping at the side of her thigh, willing herself not to cry in front of people that didn't deserve it. They never would. But she couldn't deny she was embarrassed beyond belief, yearning for the ground littered with solo cups and stale beer to open up and swallow her whole - maybe then she could forget who is staring right at her, hearing everything.

It’s not that she wouldn't have cared if he wasn't there, but it definitely made the situation a whole lot worse - to have him hear them embarrassing her. To look in on one of the most humiliating moments of her short adult life. Grayson was the last person she wanted to hear about her lack of sexual experience. The only person in the room she knew from home, let alone respected.

He was...different than the others. Setting aside the fact she’d had a crush on him since he moved into the house next-door when he was 16...he’d had a golden heart for as long as she could remember. Not a thing went unnoticed by Grayson Dolan, he was always so in tune with the world around him. His kindness spread all throughout any situation he was in. It was a gift she herself wished she could have. Maybe then she wouldn't be such a shy outcast afraid to stand up for herself. But nothing had ever come of her affections, she was far too introverted to make a single move in any other direction than a wave and sometimes a small conversation about nothing in particular. Not until he’d invited her over to hang out after school one day, that is. It was a fleeting suggestion, but it has meant so much to her. She was never sure if it was a pity invitation - but the whole duration of her short visit, she never felt like an outcast.

It was completely innocent, but made it even harder to resist him. Being older wasn't the only thing that had made him so unattainable to her all of these years, it was also his maddening habit of looking so God damn attractive all the time. When he moved away a year before her, something cracked in her heart - the pain of being left behind by the only person that had ever shown true kindness to her. Little did she know she would be in the frat that had become a home to him, at the same college, with the same group of people, that same intense stare aimed right at her.

She’s seen him only once before on campus, passing by her with a text book tucked under one arm, other hand preoccupied with scrolling through his phone. The way he had smacked into her body with enough force to have her hurdling to the ground in a heap of bones and fly away papers had been humiliating enough - but what was even worse was the way he had gotten onto her level, kneeling before her to help pick up the scattered assignments with apologies tumbling from his mouth one after the other. She remembers that moment vividly, how her heart had stopped beating for a moment, his striking features coming to the forefront of her mind once again.

He was even more attractive than he’d been when he was just her handsome neighbor. He was...well...a man. Muscles that looked to be carved from clay, chiseled and perfectly shaped, that same prominent jaw, dark eyebrows, beautiful plump lips, pouting just the right way while his hands flew from paper to paper - making a messy pile before handing it to her in a clumsy - an adorable - fashion, his shocking hazel eyes landing on her in what seemed like too long. She never saw him again after- even when he mentioned wanting to ‘catch up’, until now. It had been a moment of great significance to her heart, judging by how well she remembered that very moment like it had been playing on a big screen in a theater somewhere.

But her life wasn't a movie or fairytale, and this situation proved that to be true. He watched from his spot on the sofa, glaring at the immature children that threw their remarks at her without remorse. Y/n had never seen the kind boy look so angry. It made her feel strangely safe, even if she hadn't seen him in so long. It made her cringe knowing the one boy that had shown her true care, friendship with no further intention to get in her pants, was sat right there, witnessing something she hoped would be wiped from her own memory.

She had always wanted him to be her first, she’ll admit. Somewhere inside of her, she knew Grayson was the only boy she ever imagined herself getting intimate with, pushing it away from the sadness of it never having the opportunity to become a reality. Especially not now, he’s heard too much. Seen her too rattled up. Definitely wasn't how she pictured their next encounter playing out.

Y/n tried her hardest to avoid his gaze, her hands growing increasingly clammy from the pressure of his eyes looking over her blushing cheeks. It was so fucking mortifying. He sat back on the sofa, large hands hung loose between his thighs. The look on his face was dark, dangerous. He looked...so angry. The laughing continued on as the people around her waited to see what she would do next. Run like a coward? Or face them and subject herself to more embarrassment in front of the only person that’s ever seen her as more than a frigid shy girl? Y/n sat with the shame of their words eating her alive, head hung low to avoid eye contact with each and every person in the small circle. The loud music was making her suffocate, overwhelmed with the situation and the urge to bury herself into the ground forever.

What was she thinking indulging in a childish game of truth or dare? It was a thing for movies, coming of age ones at that, not a college frat party with several dozen people grinding to music from wall to wall. They were far too old for this. It was stupid is what it was. So why had she said yes? She knew the drill: she said yes to the invite and then it was free reign the entire game to think of every sexual dare they possibly could, just to laugh when she said no. They knew she would too, that was the point. Every single one of them thought she squirmed at the mere idea of sex, just because she had a good reputation. It was okay with her to be that girl at a party, she would rather have no reputation than a bad one. Even if she was a Freshman sitting in a group of much older kids, and some not so much, she felt the most mature. In this moment, she was.

“If you won't do it, I will,” Shondra spoke out, a skinny girl with a dark complexion, two purple streaks standing out on her black head of hair, falling in front to frame her face. Y/n didn't know her from Adam, only having met her about a weeks ago in her Sociology class. She was a transfer from a college out of state, a grade above her, and moved for personal reasons. Shondra didn't explain, and Y/n never asked. She seemed like such a polite girl, someone she could hang out with. But judging by her reckless actions, she doubts it. Y/n watched as the girl rose from her criss-cross position and onto her knees, crawling over to a freckle nosed boy, scrawny looking boy and pulling him up to his feet by the collar of his shirt. With her hand in his she led him seductively from the crowded room, a smirk plastered to her dolled-up face. The dare had been to “let any guy in the group finger you for seven minutes” to which Y/n had automatically declined, wanting to keep her body to herself. There was only a few boys in the group, anyway. But only one gave her a suggestive quirk of his eyebrow, making the bile stir in her stomach. They had proclaimed at the beginning of the game that the traditional 7 minutes in heaven game was drab, and that they would gladly spice it up along the way. She should have known they would try and pull something on her.

She wondered for a second why Grayson would ever want to subject himself to these types of people, let alone join a frat when he was...well...the least likely person to become a frat boy ever. But it made sense in a way, he was so accepting of everyone, no matter the background. That’s what drew her to him in the first place.

She watched the pair disappear up the flight of wooden stairs, a scowl turning at her lips. She flinched as another comment flew her way, “Missed opportunity, Y/n. Let loose a little why don't you?” her ‘friend’ cackled at her, her eyes scrunched up in amusement. Every last one in the group joined in on their mocking laughter. Everyone but him.

It warmed her heart to look over and see the sympathetic look in his eyes, heart clenching at her own embarrassed smile. She didn't want him to know about all this. Not when she was so obviously out of her element. But she understood why he was here, he actually fit in, unlike her. Granted, she was new to the group. She gazed on, eyes taking in the way each and every guy gave him a nudge on the shoulder, a pat on the back - every girl sending him their best seductive smirk. He didn't even seem...phased. Gave them a smile back, a joke to his friends, and then it was back to him sipping at his beer. Never over the top. Never too little. Comfortable.

She took the time to scan over Grayon’s body when a loud blonde frat boy stepped up to talk to him about what she assumed was pointless nonsense, her eyes trailing every bulging muscle that escaped Grayson’s burnt orange t-shirt hugging his chest tight. She was ridiculously attracted to him. Everything about him made her nerves buzz - his wispy hair poking out from under his hat, jaw sharp and defined as he smiled up at his friend. It was like he had walked straight out of her dreams, ready to steal her heart once again. She had almost forgotten the way he made her feel, the burst of adrenaline she got just from the bright sound of his laughter. It was like a breath was punched into her chest, getting caught from the force of the blow.

Y/n knew Grayson was sexually experienced, she wasn't a naïve fool after all. He had always been a bit of a flirt and liked to call girls affectionate pet names. She knew that to him, it was normal, but that didn't mean it hadn't messed with her head a time or two. She thought back to the way he kneeled before her the day he knocked her flat on her back, sputtering out a shy, but surprisingly frantic, apology. There had been a little pet name slipped out with his rambling, one that had her shivering to this day:

“Sorry, babe. Didn't see you there.”

Babe. It stuck with her like a catchy tune, popping into her whirring thoughts the first second she saw him again. It just sounded so good coming from his heart shaped lips. She presumed the reason she didn't look at him like all of the other sex-crazed teens, was probably the fact that he didn't necessarily flaunt his sexuality like the rest. He was confident, of course, but unlike the others he had morals and could see plain as day they were hurting, sexualizing, and degrading her. She didn't know it, but Grayson knew there was more to her than some shy little girl that blushed at any sexual comment. She didn't flaunt it like the rest did, but that didn't make her any less of a woman.

He watched her carefully, noticing her zoning herself out of the game, in her own head. He’s sure she’s beating herself up over the words they flung at her so carelessly. He wishes she knew how special she was, that she didn't fall into the ‘norm’ of things - that she didn't have to. She stood her ground even if it made her a social outcast. She had always walked on her own path, and he envied her for it, but was thankful he wasn't as blind as some of the people in the frat right then were.

Y/n moved away from the group of condescending, shit-faced college kids, needing a breath of fresh air and a refill on her drink. She normally wouldn't have been a social drinker either, but tonight had been different. She needed a boost if she was going to last the whole night and not lose her mind in the process. She wasn't joining in on the ‘fun’ anyway, and she was right on the money assuming they wouldn't notice her absence. They didn't even blink as she walked away. She thought over the night on her trek into the kitchen, squeezing between sweaty dancing bodies, ducking under flailing limbs. It had her thinking that...it could never be her. She doesn’t think she could ever be that carefree. Completely let go of all of her worries in front of dozens of people she didn’t know, didn’t trust, and didn’t want to see her like that. Part of her wanted to succumb to all of their teasing sometimes, just get with someone. But she told herself over and over again that it was ridiculous to go against what she wanted and believed in all because of a little drunken harassment. She wouldn't break for people that didn't respect her. She would regret it, and so far, she’s had no other regrets except maybe not kissing Grayson at least one time when she had even a little bit of a chance. But that chance was long gone and forgotten now.

Glancing behind her shoulder into the packed living room, she saw Grayson lift his hand from across the way, hand gesturing in a sort of wave. His other hand was holding a beer. She cringed at his beverage internally, always loathing the strong putrid taste of beer. She was more of a wine girl, herself. Y/n let a smile lift her cheeks, it was slow of course, not really sure if his small wave was directed at her or just another one of his buddies that happened to be passing by in the crowded house, even if she was the only one in the kitchen.

She quirked her head to the side, watching him with squinted eyes as he mouthed something in her direction. ‘You okay?’ she gathered, not understanding the sudden sympathy, but nodding back a ‘Yeah’ to him anyway. Why did he care? She had always been an outcast, that much was obvious. Yes, they had been ‘friends’ so to say before he moved off the college, but she had thought that was the end of it. He was there and then he wasn’t. She didn’t expect him to remember her, much less care about her after. The blush that crept up her cheekbones when he smiled happily back at her, made her internally cringe. Obvious much. ‘Good’ he’d mouthed back, a dazzling smile showing his ridiculously straight teeth off to her.

Not wanting to keep staring, she turns her back to face the counter - trying to catch her breath from having him express such sympathy when she was used to being invisible, and when seen, mocked. Truth be told, she didn't know where the hell to look once the - sort of - conversation was over. She fought herself over the redness in her cheeks, cursing her own pathetic shyness. He was just...so kind. He didn't even have to be and he was. Even if someone doesn't deserve it, he shows them kindness. Redemption was something he’s always been a fan of. Grayson was always the bigger person, making it totally impossible to not open yourself up to him. She huffed at herself, apparently her desire hadn't lessened over time like she had hoped. He made it easy to fall back into old fantasies, that much was true.

She focused on the wine dribbling from it’s box and into her red plastic cup, knowing that it’s shitty wine, but at least it isn't beer. She’d already had a few small glasses, feeling the warmth flooding in her body, but perhaps just a bit more would help. Thinking maybe juice would make it at least a small margin better, she wanders to the fridge, looking over her shoulder before grabbing the ‘kiwi melon’ juice from the bottom shelf - a sneaky smile playing at her lips. She knows it’s rude to pry and take what’s not yours, but if she’s going to be miserable at a party, shouldn't she at least have a good drink? With that same smile, she pours some of the pinkish liquid into her wine, doing a little shimmy in excitement from her silly idea at making herself happy. That moment was cut short when a heavy hand landed on the small of her waist, her body jolting from the shock of someone touching her so suddenly, heart hammering from the fright. She frowns at the puddle of juice on the counter before her eyes finally land on the culprit that had scared the daylights out of her - being met with a smiling Grayson, close to her face and a strong arm around her back. God, please stop messing with my hormones.

“You know mixing isn't good for you right?”

Hearing his low voice made her shiver, staring at him for just a bit too long before she broke the staring spell and responded shyly, “I’m probably not even gonna drink it honestly, I just thought maybe the juice would make it taste less bitter,” she laughed, reaching forward to secure the cap back on the juice, not interested in drinking the nasty wine anymore. Talking to him was much better.

“Not much alcohol really tastes sweet, babe,” he laughed, sliding his massive arm off of her and leaning with his lower back flesh to the counter next to her. Peaking at him under her eyelashes, she admires how cute he looks with a hat on, he never wore them much in the past. His lips were tinged red from having a the neck of a beer bottle pressed against them throughout the night. She also chose to ignore the pet name that tumbled out through his teasing remark, knowing it didn't mean anything but if she thought about it long enough, the hopeless romantic in her would over analyze it. Ripping a paper towel from the roll above the sink, she attempted to clean the counter of the juice, lip curling at the wet feeling against her fingertips. She didn't like messes.

“Yeah,” she agreed, “you just kind of have to chug it and the taste will be gone soon enough. It’s really the feeling that’s nice.”

She knew it sounded bad as soon as it left her mouth, but chose to hide behind her hair once again, her blush would only make it more obvious that she hadn't meant to say something that sounded so vulgar. Grayson wasn’t a pervert or anything, but this conversation suddenly had him thinking about how she would be with her mouth. And it that was not how he wanted to see her when she had just sat in his living room and been made fun of for the exact opposite. He didn't want to be another one of those people that saw her for her body and nothing else - but he couldn't deny his attraction. Instead of indulging in vulgar thoughts of her mouth and body, he slid in closer and gazed down at her doe eyes, flickering from his lips, down to his now closer chest, then back up to his eyes.

“Are you sure you're okay?”

“Yeah, Gray,” she nodded, “I’m fine, really. I’m used to it.”

Gray. She hadn't called him that in what felt like ages. It slipped out in habit, and from the small smile tugging at his lips, she knew he didn't mind. He’d always loved when she called him that, let him know there was some level of trust between them.

“You don’t have to be, though,” he told her earnestly, “I mean it - I can talk to them if you want...they shouldn't be treating you like that.”

“It’s really whatever,” she huffed, getting just a tiny bit angrier, not at him, just the issue. Tossing the soggy paper towels into the bin in the corner, she dumps the contents in her glass down the sink, and rinses out the empty glass, “It doesn't get to me anymore.”

Grayson’s stare burnt through the side of her face, his calm blinking letting her know he saw right through her bullshit. It did get to her, it got down to her very core and made the humiliation so unbearable she resulted to drinking wine that tasted like battery acid mixed with juice that was probably outdated, just to distract her from the embarrassment. He also knew it embarrassed her from the shaky rise and fall of her chest. That and the next words that flew from her mouth were so full of frustration and resentment, he almost choked, “I mean it’s like, yeah, okay I've never had a dick in my mouth, but does that make me a bad person?”

He raised a hand to cover his smile, chuckling into his own hand. He didn't want to seem insensitive by laughing at her. Getting himself somewhat under control, he droned out with an amused smile, “Definitely not a bad person.”

“Mhm,” she hummed, looking down at her hands perched on the edge of the counter. She would be panicking at being so open with him, but honestly he made it feel so natural she couldn't overthink it much, “I would rant more but I don’t want to waste your time explaining how much of a prude I am.” Her voice was sad, like she genuinely believed it was something he thought about her - would ever think about her. He watched her try and distance herself from him. not wanting to discuss her biggest insecurity in fear it would make him look at her different - as if he looked at her period.

“I don’t think you’re a prude,” Grayson told her honestly. She looked so pretty staring up at him through her long lashes, blinking with a confused gaze. He knew she was confused by his kindness, “I just think they have no respect for themselves.”

“Well I don’t know about that,” she shrugged, “don’t get me wrong, there isn't anything wrong with sleeping around. I just wished they understood and respected why I don’t, you know?”

“Well it’s like, wouldn’t you rather have sex with a friend? Someone who you get along with, trust, and cares about you?”

It was a genuine question and with one look she could tell he actually meant the words he said. He wasn't just saying them to appeal to her and make her feel better, even if that was part of it deep down under the surface.

“But that’s not what any of them are like with me. I don’t trust any of them and I don’t think even one of them gives a damn about me,” she grumbled, “I would never. With any of them.”

He chose his next words carefully, not wanting her to take him the wrong way.

“But you would with someone who treats you right?” Grayson questioned, ignoring that the words sounded and inferred that he was asking for his own benefit. It was an obvious answer, but he had asked anyway.

“Yes.” She swallowed, looking up at him nervously. Curiosity swam behind his eyes and she was starting to think he was getting at something, becoming the tiniest bit jittery under his stare.

“Understandable,” he nodded, hair flopping from under his hat. “It’s better to be with someone you trust, always has been that way. Always will be. But don’t let them get to you, it will come.”

Y/n looked up at his drunk little smile and felt oddly safe once again, a genuine smile rising to her face, it took his breath away. He took his time scanning her soft features, licking at his lips unknowingly.

“I know, Grayson. You’re really sweet, thank you for listening,” she mumbled, that same bright smile aimed right at him.

His head bobbed in a nod, a purse at his lips - he was holding something back. Her heart stopped at his next words.

“And, maybe this is taking this way too far and maybe i’m a little more drunk than i thought but - i mean - i’d do whatever the fuck you wanted me to do to you in a heartbeat, Y/n. No questions asked.” He blew a breath through his nose, on high alert now that he’d said something so bold - unsure of her reaction. Her blush gave him a great deal of satisfaction.

“Um...right,” she muttered, unsure of what to say now that he had been so open with her. What he was saying had her mind reeling, tossing over idea after idea of what he would mean. She couldn't ignore the clenching in her nether region at his innuendo, trying to ignore it the best she could. It was impossible with his eyes scanning over her face. She tried passing it off for the fact he was intoxicated, and probably didn't mean what he said. Normally, on any other day, she would be immensely annoyed at any boy saying such a thing to her, assuming he only wanted her for her body. Most of the time it ended up being true. Maybe it was her being naive to think this was different, but he had already made it clear that getting into her pants wasn't her intention - and she believed him.

The way he’d said it, was so honest it had her panicking slightly on the inside. It wasn’t that he was saying these things for his own benefit, it truly sounded like he meant the words that he was saying - that if given the opportunity, he would focus on her pleasure and not delve into a sea of greed that so many of the guys she’s come in contact with had. They just wanted to pleasure themselves. The steadiness of his voice indicated that he wanted to make her feel good. It made her giddy inside. Without the intention of getting her hopes up, she hid her blush behind her hand. Maybe he did like her back?

It was childish to think such a thing, and she knew it as well as anyone else. How could she possibly know what anyone else, much less a guy, wanted when she couldn't even decide for herself? Peaking over at him once again, she’s shocked to find him staring at her still.

“Was that perverted? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” his kind eyes widened to saucers, seemingly reading something behind her eyes she didn't realize was there. It was just so damn hard to hide her nerves when everything was so foreign to her - the ‘everything’ being flirting and sexual innuendos that she actually didn’t mind. His eyes dropped to the floor, his own frown adorning his handsome fact, “Was it? Because I’m sorry if I offended you or anything I’ve just had a lot to drink-”

“It’s alright, Grayson,” she giggled to hide her anxiousness. His worried expression turned into one of relief, his smile mirroring hers, “You’re just drunk, I get it. Don’t worry about me.”

They watched as a girl not much older than her stumbled through the kitchen on broken heels, clearly out of her mind drunk. The giggling, clumsy teen disappeared behind the corner and into the bathroom, two of her friends following close behind with their own drinks in their hands - shouting her name with drunken slurs. She looked on at the messy college girl, smirking at Grayon’s shaking head. He seemed to be amused by her trashy behavior. As if he could feel her eyes on him, his stare returned to her face once again, an emotion she couldn’t put her finger on swimming in his eyes.

“Yeah,” he swallowed, voice low - blinking down at her slowly, “just drunk.”

“You okay?” she tilted her head when he tore his gaze away once again, wanting to be there for him like he had for her. She waited patiently while he bobbed his head up and down again - looking a bit unsure.

“Yeah, I just uh...” he trailed off, blowing a puff of air from his lips again, “I just need a smoke that’s all.”

That was his only explanation, for some reason, she didn’t believe it as much as she thought she should have. He just looked so damn nervous, it gave her more reason for concern. But she shrugged anyway, nodding herself, “So have one then.”

“You wanna come with?” he offered with a hopeful tone, nudging at her shoulder with a small smile.

“That’s alright. It’s cold outside,” she pulls an excuse from the air, not really wanting to travel back outside because she knows if she leaves she won’t want to come back - and being stranded doesn’t sound like the most appealing option. Neither does asking someone random for a ride. Her friends would only mock her further for wanting to leave so early.

“I was actually gonna head up to my room and open a window, not really a fan of smoking outside. Too much effort,” he jokes, chuckling to himself. At least he was honest.

Y/n swallowed down her nerves, not wanting to keep turning him away when he was trying to go the extra mile to talk to her and wanted to - for some unknown reason - spend time with her. She wouldn't choose herself from a crowd of college kids, that’s for sure.

“Oh, um...yeah, sure, okay.” She hated the way he made her fumble with her words, made her nervous and jittery. She had always been that way around him, at a loss of what to do or say, totally enamored by him. She also hated smoking, but she wanted to be alone with him more than she wanted to admit. She would brave the smoke if it meant she got him all to herself for just a while. With her gentle nod came another one of Grayson’s award winning smiles, a hand coming forward to grab at hers to her surprise - tugging her through the living room and over to the stairs packed with sweaty dancing bodies. It made her lip curl in distaste.

Following him up the stairs made her feel safe, untouchable in fact - hiding behind his large body kind of had that special effect. Like nothing could touch her. There were eyes that lingered on the pair of you along the way, darting from you to Grayson and back again. Someone shot her a smirk, some a full smile, and some even gave her a thumbs up as if to say: good luck. They could make their assumptions, Lord knows they did anyhow.

And of course, like she had presumed, Grayson’s room was at the end of the long hallway - the last door on the left. It made her smile thinking back to her hometown where she had walked close behind him down the hallway of his home and into his bedroom to spend hours listening to him scream at some video game she never cared for and talk about how ready they were to get out of that town. She was first, the shy neighbor, and then his neighbor friend. It was an upgrade that meant the world to her at the time, even though he left her to herself when he moved away. They had been a team and his room had been their sanctuary.

She was grinning when they stepped through the door and her eyes met the familiar white bedding he’d had had that same warm day in spring - when he had invited her to sit and talk a while. The only thing he’d added that she could notice were some rich emerald green colored pillows, the plush kind that probably felt like a cloud to sleep on. He was a simple kind of guy. Not many people knew - but there was a stitched in red robin on the underside of his duvet - courtesy of Lisa - his wonderful mother. Y/n always had a great deal of respect for the kind-hearted woman. She called the tiny hidden stitching her ‘Easter egg’ - something unexpected but always appreciated. If you didn’t pull back the right corner, you’d never even know it was there.

Shaking her head out of her thoughts, Y/n tore her eyes away from the perfectly made bed (He always lectured her on making the bed, said it was ‘the first dose of accomplishment for the day’ - (simple but essential) and looked over to Grayson who had taken a seat on the large cushioned windowsill and was now bending forward to push on the window with one arm - the clear glass swinging outwards, letting in the breeze of crisp night air. It was a cool night, not too warm, not too cold - but just right. Just like every moment she spent with him. Peaking out of the window, Y/n could see a vegetable garden in the corner of the backyard, smiling with the knowledge that Grayson had probably put in maximum effort to get a garden so fresh and taken care of in a house full of frat boys that only cared about a good fuck and beer. It was odd to see something like a garden in a place that felt so disconnected from the world, that it nearly made her laugh. But instead, she took a moment to thank the Gods above that no one was outside. Because if they only looked up, she was sure they would be able to tell how nervous she was down to her very bones while her fingers twisted around each other - waiting for the right words to come to her.

Satisfied with the crack in the window, Grayson leans back and to the side to tuck a large hand into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a yellow lighter. He lights the end of the stick as Y/n stood still by the door - wondering whether or not to close it. She wondered for a moment what message it might give and if it was one she wanted.

It was so weird to watch him smoke when she remembered him being the biggest health buff she knew. She couldn’t ever predict to see a cigarette resting between his fingers. But she had to admit it looked damn hot to see him suck in a drag between his plump lips, just to slowly ease it back out the window and into the night. The smoke danced for a minute against the screen before sneaky through the holes. It was mesmerizing, truly. He made everything look beautiful, and that was coming from a girl that gagged at the mere smell of smoke.

Grayson’s body shifts on the windowsill, in pursuit of (probably) easing her nerves he could feel bouncing all around the room- when she lifts the heel of her foot and kicks the door closed behind her with a small *click*. A shaky hand follows as she reaches back to twist the lock to the right, trying not to think too much whether she would soon regret the split second decision or not. With one look at his warm, welcoming smile, she doubted it.

“Do you wanna?” he asked her through the soft gold lamp light. Normally, the thought of smoking would make a chill run down her spine and repulse her for the rest of the day, but watching him make it look so...not gross and disgusting, had her thinking.

“Oh, no thank you, I don’t smoke,” Y/n told him earnestly, shaking her head the tiniest bit.

“Yeah I knew that, just thought maybe you had tried it a time or two since I last saw you...had a rebellious moment-” he gave her a wink at that, knowing she was the least rebellious person he had ever come across in his life. He just loved to tease her, “can I ask why you haven't?”

“Just haven’t,” she said honestly, taking a few small steps to slide onto the edge of the bed - worried that if she sat with him at the window she might combust.

“That’s okay,” Grayson chuckled, rising from his seat by the window and claiming a spot on the bed right next to her, “you could try it at least once, though. It won’t kill you.”

That’s a lie, she wanted to say - but instead smacked her lips in thought, gazing up at the smile behind his eyes. He just made everything feel so safe and okay. Even something she had always viewed as disgusting and wrong, he suddenly had her pondering on. Y/n was so distracted with her own thoughts for a moment, she almost didn’t notice him holding the cigarette out to her. She looked at the white roll between his fingers, the smoke wafting up into her nose and she almost made a face, but stopped herself. A wave of panic went through because - fuck - was she really going to do this? What was the reason to go back on everything she believed in about smoking? She never wanted to, so what made this situation any different?

“I guess not...I just don’t know how to do it,” she admitted. She’s sure it’s not rocket science, but she’s seen enough of her friends cough and gag to be convinced it’s easy for your first time ever trying. And she’s pretty positive she would never - and will never - attempt smoking again after tonight. Only for Grayson, she chanted to herself, only this once for him and then never again. Since when has she ever been subject to peer pressure? She scolded herself, knowing she should never say yes to something she is unsure of, but really wanting to make him proud for some reason.

“I’ll show you,” he nodded at her and then to the cigarette in his hand, pulling her from her racing thoughts. Raising the cigarette up, he held it pin straight in front of her face. Y/n gave him a skeptical look, heaving out a sigh, but took the roll anyway - holding it awkwardly in front of her lips. This is so wrong, this is gross, this is bad, she whined to herself, but smacked the thought away.

“That’s it, now just wrap the dry bit of your lips around it-” he instructed her softly, and she could almost swear her heart was going to explode from the tone he was using, “that’s it.”

Y/n followed his gentle direction, not daring to look at him while she did something she vowed to never partake in. But how could you say no to a face like his?

“Now inhale, but breathe in. Don’t force the air down or anything like that, just take it in and pull it down until you feel it here-” he tapped a finger against her chest, goosebumps raising right where he had touched her. She prayed he didn’t notice - even if she saw his eyes linger on her skin for just a few seconds longer.

With a burst of bravery, she sucked in on the stick, taking in a deep breath. She could feel it like a heavy cloud sitting in her throat and on her tongue before she sputtered it back out with a sickly sounding cough. Bad idea. She cringed as the smoke oozed from her nostrils as well, followed by a harsh pain.

Grayson laughed lightly watching her grimace and hold it back out to him with panic, “No?”

No, she agreed in her head, but instead shook her head and brought it back in front of her face with a disgusted scowl. He raised a prominent eyebrow at her in question and disbelief. Really again? His eyes talked back to her.

“Just um... let me go again,” she urged, clearing her throat and ignoring the burning sensation that followed in result of her coughing fit only moments prior. She just wanted to look tough in front of him. Not that she owed him anything, but herself maybe.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to. I don’t really want to be responsible for your death,” he laughed, taking it back from her. He would never force her to do anything she was uncomfortable with. With a pout she huffs.

“Let me try again,” she whined slightly, holding her hand out. She tried giving him her best ‘please give into me’ eyes, but she wasn’t sure it worked until the corner of his lips started to curve upwards.

His hesitation made her smile, hesitation was closer to a yes than a no. But he shook is head soon after, and he couldn’t catch her bottom lip fast enough before it popped out into a pout. She wanted to at least take a drag without all but coughing up her lungs. That’s all, after that she would let it go. She never had the desire to smoke in the first place.

“Okay,” Grayson decided with a huff, “I wanna try something real quick. Can you come a little closer for me?”

With a slight nod Y/n scoots herself closer to him on the edge of the bed, knees now touching his slightly. He’s close enough now that if she leans in just a bit, they would be kissing. The thought makes goosebumps pop up along the skin of her arms, something she hopes he pays no mind to. But instead, she sits with a dumbfounded look while he smiles brightly at her.

“Now part your lips,” he nods at her, eyes glued to her plump rosy lips that tempt him more than she will ever realize.She’s looking at him innocently, only making it harder for him to think about the mean things that were said about her downstairs. He’d love nothing more than to kick all of their asses when they finish up in his room.

With her compliance comes the knowledge that she’s gotten herself into some trouble when he takes the end of the cigarette into his own mouth, wraps his own lips tightly around the white stick and sucks in hard. She admires the way his eyes droop shut with the long drag, and gasps in a small breath when his hand reaches up to grab loosely at her chin, pulling her face even closer. A daring move.

“Try what?” she frowned, looking up and into his intense eyes that all but glare at her now. A fire erupts somewhere in her when he ducks his face down to place his lips over hers lightly, almost hovering and resisting the urge to plant them fully upon hers just as he exhales the smoke into her open mouth. She jumps when she feels the smoke swirling in her mouth like liquid, warm - but something tells her that’s not what has her sweating right there on the bed.

With her eyes pinched shut and tried to focus on the subtle burn that was in fact less overwhelming than her first time trying to smoke herself - but all she could seem to focus on or much rather care about, was his satin soft lips moving ever so slightly as he blows out the rest of the smoke into her mouth. The light pressure causing her head to spin in circles, his hand on her chin ensuring that her face stay near to his.

With a dizzy head and a heart that just wouldn’t stop racing, she exhales the smoke out of her nostrils between them, Grayson’s head pulling back just a bit to let the grayish swirls of smoke drift away and disappear.

“How about that?” he whispered, staring at her with softened eyes. She hadn’t coughed, so he took that as a good sign.

Swallowing nervously, she taps at her knee with her fingers, trying to avoid his eyes altogether. He was just...too much to look at. Too kind, too handsome, too understanding of things he didn’t have to be. She thought she might feel sick with herself after endeavoring in such a disgusting act...but surprisingly, she just felt accomplished. She hadn’t hacked up a lung, and he wasn’t running for the hills like she thought he might. Her innocence sometimes frightened people. Especially those with no real understanding of the finer things in life. But Grayson wasn’t one of those people, and she knew she had to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Better,” she finally managed to squeak out. And for once, she wasn’t lying. In fact, it was the most truthful thing she’d said in a very long time. When you were putting on a show for dozens of people, it felt a bit strange to say something that wasn’t robotic and programmed. Even if was just once word. That would was hers.

“Why was it better, Y/n?” Grayson whispered again, still staring right through her. His eyes seemed darker now, a pit of something she couldn’t put her finger on.

“I-I um...don’t know really it’s jus-”

“Can I kiss you?” He cut her off seriously, turning only for a moment to toss the cigarette into an ashtray on the nightstand, and it was actually kind of astonishing how good of a shot it was, “just once.”

“W-why?” she whimpered, confused and flattered and unsure of what to think.

Is this just another joke? Another prank to be pulled off by her ‘friends’? There has to be a camera somewhere. Someone waiting behind the door, just waiting to bust in with a group if people and laugh at her.

“Does it matter why?” he smirked, still holding her chin softly. His touch felt so delicate. Like she was a little porcelain doll he had to handle with care.

“I mean...a little,” she admitted, “ people don’t usually randomly ask me to kiss them.”

“Because I actually like you,” he began quietly, so so quiet, “because you’re beautiful, you really understand things for what they are, and people make fun of you for it.”

They are both surprised when she lets out an amused scoff, one hand raising to cover her mouth for just a moment at her outburst. Her eyes are wide, but within a moment she’s lowering her hand back down to what she thought was her own lap...but ended up being Grayson’s knee. She’s speaking before she can think to remove her hand first.

“I am not beautiful, Grayson,” she mutters, shyly and ashamed.

It’s almost like he’s been shot, to hear her say such a thing. To hear her lie. She can’t possibly think that about herself?

“Y/n,” he breathes with a shake of his head, “the first time I saw you it felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach.” Maybe it was the way he said it with such sincerity, the genuine emotion behind his words, or the way his lips ushered the words right out of his - but she found her heart fluttering and her head nodding at his request.

“Okay,” she decided, not sure if he’d understand but hoping she wouldn’t have to actually say what she was okaying.

“Okay? I can-” he checked, flicking his hazel eyes from her lips and back up again.

“Yes, I mean yeah, I mean...okay,” she laughed, so beyond nervous she couldn’t prepare herself for what was about to come next. Something spectacular. Something magical. At least, that’s what she always thought it would be like kissing Grayson. Her only thought was that she didn’t want to be the one to lean in, and thankfully she didn’t have to. Grayson was leaning in in no time, and she was thankful for his confidence. It was something she was always lacking.

His head tilted in such a way that he kissed her lips at this angle, this oh so special angle, one that she felt her body melt at. Her head dropped to the side as his lips put pressure against hers, his hand still placed right under her chin while his lips ghosted and danced over her own.

With the thought of her hands remaining to herself being just too sad to handle, she delicately placed her fingers upon his waist. She could feel the heat of him under his shirt, and somehow that simple fact made her shiver, lean into him more. She didn’t squeeze, just touched at his waist - dipping her toes into the water so to say. Grayson being a little more invested for the time being, captured her upper lip with another roll of pressure. Her mouth fell open in a silent gasp at the movement. She knew she wasn’t the best kisser, only having kissed a few times, and none of those times ended up being all that great - but she was trying.

Despite her lack of confidence and the nerves threatening to make her wretch at any moment, she wanted to take it further. Not just one kiss, little pecks. She wanted a kiss: heavy tongues and puckering noises. She wanted the full kiss, the ones all her friends had and bragged about when she sat around being sad she hadn’t yet experienced something so electric.

With an act of bravery, she let that hand that rested on his waist close in to squeeze at him, digging her nails in to the fabric and applying just the right amount of pressure to have him kissing her deeper. She then took it a step further, sliding her other hand up to tug the hat resting on his head backwards off and clutch at his locks of chocolaty hair. She was proud of herself when his hand came up to grip at her own waist and she didn’t so much as jump, warning bells didn’t sound off in her head, she wasn’t afraid. She let him just like she let herself.

Their kisses still weren’t long, just lingering pecks and lips squeezing one another’s. Y/n was the first to open her mouth, the first to show a sign of wanting something beyond the innocent pecking. Pulling back for just a second, she wraps her lips around his plump bottom one, pulling for a second before popping it free.

Grayson makes a small sound, something like a grunt mixed with a breath, and slacked his jaw a bit to kiss her harder. Much harder. This was what she wanted. He was hungry for it now. With that new excitement, came the shock of his tongue colliding with hers. At first, she jumped on the mattress, her fingers stilled in his hair, but he kept her close. She recovered from her shock quickly and tried to not make any noise that might embarrass her when his wet heavy tongue rolled against hers, one of his large hands coming to press into her back. It was so smooth, the way he knew exactly how to angle his mouth, kiss her at just the right spots, apply just the right pressure. It pulled her into him more than the hand at her back.

Her mouth grew hotter, tingles spreading from her lips down her collarbones, her shoulders, and to the tips of her fingers that were still locked in his hand and tethered to the fabric of his shirt. And it was almost comical that she liked the slight bitterness from the smoke they had inhaled minutes prior to their kiss, added an extra buzz to her nerves. This was so unlike her, but somehow...exactly like her in every way. She honestly didn’t really know who she was because of how often she had to conform to what everyone else thought she be.

Y/n felt his firm hands become greedy quickly, his body just itching to do something to hers. A ball of excitement sat down low in her stomach, growing to a steady burn that spread out through the rest of her body, pushing out as a sigh she will think back on and be horrified about for the rest of her days. But in the moment? Kissing Grayson in a frat house? After smoking her first cigarette? She didn’t give a damn that she made any sounds of pleasure, in fact she wanted him to know just how good his lips felt moving against hers. He fought off the urge to act on his hunger, not wanting to be that guy. He wasn’t that guy. He never had been. Especially with her, he would be patient. If kissing was all she would ever want to do, he would be okay with it.

“Gray,” she breathed, way too caught up in the heat of the moment to realize the weight of what she was about to say,” “Gray let me touch you.”

Grayson stopped the steady speed of their kiss and pulled his tongue from hers, still holding her face close, but backed his head up just enough to get a look right into her beautiful eyes. With a thick swallow and a small shake of his head he’s finally blabbering out a confused, “What?”

“Just...let me,” she begged, tightening the fist in his hair to really let him know she means it, “let me please.”

And she did mean it, that she was sure of. She wasn’t sure if it really was the fact that she had a bit to drink tonight, of it was just the moment and she was high off of the way his lips felt, or the fact that she had liked him for so long anyway - but she wanted to fucking touch him. She wasn’t even sure to what extent, just that she wanted to feel the weight of the situation and go outside of her comfort zone. She was ready to go somewhere with him. She trusted him more than half of her jackass ‘friends’ anyway.

“Y/n,” he began after a moment of irritating silence, “you don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for. We can just kiss, I promise I’m okay with just kissing you.”

“But I want too, Grayson,” she whimpered, sliding her knee up his thigh, to show just how much. She tried to show with that simple motion that she thought now was perfect, her chance to finally let loose and just dive head first into her first sexual encounter. Her first real one anyway. It wasn’t just getting it out of the way. It wasn’t her acting on some rash urge to be like the other sex crazed people around her. It wasn’t a cry for acceptance. It was her about the opportunity she had pictured for so long was now before her and she didn’t want to throw it away due to the nerves pumping through her at lightning speed. She didn’t want to be afraid of intimacy anymore.

“Y/n/n,” he whispered, “you really don’t have to. Don’t think that’s why I kissed you. I was fully expecting for us just to kiss.”

“No,” she promised, leaning forward and dipping her head to the side to kiss at his sharp jaw, “show me how it’s done please, Gray. Show me how to make you cum. Wanna know how you like it.”

Grayson swallowed loudly again, the head that was once holding her face now wrapped lightly around her neck. It was simply resting there, no intention or purpose. But she felt that same hand tighten just a bit at her words.

“Jesus, Y/n. You’re drunk, bub. You would never be saying this if you were sober,” he mumbled out to her, looking at her in the eyes. It almost made her feel better. Almost.

But it still stung. Because there is was. There it fucking was. Even if he denied that he found her frigid like all the others, he still didn’t believe she had any form of sexual desire. That she couldn’t possibly have any confidence with her body. That she wasn’t like that. That she was worthless when it came to her body and the only time she would ever desire getting or giving any type of sexual pleasure is when she was drunk.

Pulling her head back and away from his hand while trying to avoid the pity in his eyes, she decided that instead of shutting down and taking the sting in her heart home with her - she was going to prove him wrong. Because he was. She could do more than sit and look pretty, even if that’s what made her most comfortable on any other day. She wanted to suck his dick. It was that simple. She wanted it and she knew he wanted it just as bad, even if he was going to try and be a gentleman about it.

Grayson watched her slip to her knees on the floor in front of him, never breaking the stare they had kept for a few long minutes now. She was pulling apart his legs in no time, her grip firm. He sucked in a breath when her silk soft lips fell to the inside part of his knee, the soft material of the tight fitting black sweats he was wearing softer than what she had assumed. Reaching a hand up, she twisted and pulled at the tie in the front, undoing it quickly, grazing over a bump in his underwear that he couldn’t hide even if he tried as she shifted closer to him on the edge of the bed.

“Y/n,” he grabbed at her hand, trying not to choke when she gave him a dead look, like she would rather him do anything else but stop her, “are you sure you want this? I don’t want you to regret anything.”

“Yes, Grayson. I’m not a fucking prude.”

And there is was. That same word that was thrown at her all the time, for years she’s had to hear the same insult. But she didn’t have to prove anything to him. She was safe with him, even if he did want to fuck her senseless he would never act on any of those thoughts unless the time was right and she was 100% completely ready for that stepping stone in her life. Sitting there looking into her eyes, seeing the determination, it made his heart speed up he wouldn’t lie about that.

“You don’t have to-” he huffed and put his hands to his face in frustration, “you don’t have to prove that to me.”

It was sweet, the way he tried to validate her, make her feel safe. But he didn’t understand, she wanted him.

“I know that,” she nodded, “but why does it have to stop me from doing the things I want to do?”

As Grayson stared down at her, he was scared for a moment that she would able to see in his eyes how desperately he wanted her to go down on him, and didn’t want her to also think that was the goal with bringing her up to his room. He didn’t and would never want to pressure her into anything. If Grayson knew anything, it was that she deserved the best. So he made a promise to himself right there on the edge of his bed that he would treat her like a fucking goddess during and after whatever they were about to do. That he would show that he cared about her, because he did. And he knew he always had.

“Fuck, okay. As long as you’re sure,” he whispered gruffly, feeling his dick twitch from the simple bat of her eyelashes up at him. She smirked at this, tugging at the elastic of his sweats.

Grayson complied by shifting his hips up and watched her drag them down his muscular legs and to his feet, yanking his ankles apart as much as she could in the denim. She stopped when she noticed the lack of shoes on his feet, now remembering him slipping them off in the time she came into the room earlier. But what really made her stop was the tattoo on top of his foot. She tapped at it twice with a smirk, but didn’t say anything. It calmed her nerves only slightly that his fingers were tapping on the bed nervously. She was thankful she wasn’t the only one.

He'd just never had a virgin suck him off before. That and it was Y/n for Christ’s sake. She had always been too damn good for him and he put off any idea of ever being anything more than friends with her because he was 1. going away for college and 2. sure that she would find some dreamy successful kind of guy that would smoke his ass any day. But...there was was...choosing him.

“Show me, Gray,” she whispered softly, sitting with her hands in her lap, twiddling with her fingers.

He nodded immediately, the innocence in her voice ushering him to take her face in his hands when she came back up, just to tilt his head and land a sweet kiss on her lips. Just to let her know that he was going to take care of her, that it meant something. He was again glad that he was the guy she chose to have her first sexual encounter with. Not one of the dumbfucks downstairs that only wanted to fuck her and throw her away like a piece of trash. Grayson was respectful, and he was going to give her a comfortable experience no matter what.

Y/n found herself stuck with what to do already. She had built up all this fire, but it was like she was standing on a stage with a spotlight pointing down at her - completely frozen. But she wasn’t dumb, she knew she had to get him hard first. Raising a dainty hand, she squeezed his clothes length, already half hard and massive. Y/n chose not to mention how big he was and instead inhaled and deep breath into her lungs, trying to stifle whatever stupid nervous thought was threatening to talk her out of what she wanted. With that breath, she took the time to pull the hem down and under his length.

“Okay-shit,” he whispered once again, voice shaking even more than before when her hand came up to wrap around his bare shaft now. “Holy shii-okay.” He tried breathing in deep a couple times when he felt her hot palm around him, making blood rush down his body only making him that much harder in her hand. “Fuck, this is gonna sound gross but spit in your hand.”

For a moment, she thought he was joking, and sat with his weight in her hand, but when she looked up to his pouted lower lip with no sign of amusement she knew he was serious and her cheeks grew a darker shade of red. Letting him go for just a second, she followed his direction and grabbed at him again, feeling slicker.

“Shit-now move your hand for me,” he grunted, trying his best to not be greedy and thrust already. She needed to take all the time she needed.

Slowly at first, Y/n moved her hand up and down, discovering that with each tug, his dick became smoother and wetter to the touch. Just looking at the massive cock in front of her made her nervous to put him in her mouth. He was just...so big. And the length was there too, along with the girth. This was quite the achievement for her first time. She tried getting him completely there with each flick of her wrist, speeding up gradually, slowing her hand up around the tip and thumbing the slit at the end. He was long and hard, his tip pink and dripping after her thumb dragged away from his slit. She wasn’t sure the effect it would have, but suppressed a grin when he jerked in her hand.

He jolted with a deep moan that made her eyes shoot up to his in shock.

“Fuck, that felt good,” he admitted, voice thick.

It made her feel proud, that he sounded so breathless and bothered by her hand moving on his dick. The way he breathed it through his lips, like he was thinking it to himself and hadn’t even meant for it to come out, but he couldn’t help it. Kind of made her want to kiss him again.

Grayson looked quite brooding over her, with a sharp dropped jaw and puffed up chest. He watched her every move when she couldn’t be bothered to tear her eyes away from his cock being pumped to filth by her own dainty hand. He carefully took her fringe back and behind her ear as her mouth came up and kissed his tip. Grayson quivered on his own bed, rolling his head back from the feeling of her soft lips that pressed against him for just a second. Such a soft gesture, with some dirty intent. The sight of her lips pressing to the tip of his cock almost affectionately, made him more desperate than he’d admit, like she loved it.

“Take off your top,” she spoke quietly, wanting to see his body. He obliged, yanking off his shirt with lightning speed. Her eyes went wide at the first sliver of his toned stomach that appeared and she gulped. Damn, she was nervous by how fit he truly was. Grayson always did have a certain love for fitness she always admired.

She’s brought back to the matter at hand when she feels a warmth on her hand, her gaze dropping to his dick once again. He sat hard and waiting for her next move, whatever that was anyway. Thankfully she didn’t have to ponder for much longer because Grayson rides in on that white horse to save her once again.

“Just take the tip now, babe,” he soothed her through his, grabbing her hair in his hand lightly once he settled into just the right position. The little pet name had slipped out, and for a second he thought she didn’t notice until her lips curved into a smirk. Y/n is closing her eyes and leaning in close, wrapping her lips around him at last. Tight, hot, and wet. All the sensations he felt when her lips finally enveloped around his tip.

“Jesus Christ,” he swore, heart hammering away from just the first feeling of her.

He really didn’t know what to think when her tongue started swiping and rolling along his shaft. She figured that maybe it wasn’t all about the sucking. Maybe she could play around a little, give him kisses up the side, wet and sloppy. Look at him while she tongued at his tip, smoothed her tongue over his balls for just a second.

“Oh fuck, roll your tongue on my just like that, that’s it,” he groaned, hips jerking from all the teasing on his tip. He’d always been a sucker for that sort of thing, she was learning his weak spots early, “doing so good, angel.”

She hummed with a smile, batting her eyelashes up at him in hopes of looking at precious as possible. He looked like a sweating mess above her already, droplets glistening along the lines of his tanned abs.

“Shit,” he panted heavily when she stuck her tongue out and took a hard lick to his tip once again, tongue sliding up his thin slit to flick against her teeth - her hand wrapped around his base.

She rubbed him up and down, going just a bit faster and spreading her spit up his length.

“Is this okay?” she checked, gazing up at him, continuing to twist her hand.

“Yes,” he swallowed, “Yes, just uh fuck- go a little fast for me, Y/n. Move your hand faster.”

She flicked her wrist against his throbbing cock, feeling much more confident now that he was moaning quietly and his chest moved rapidly with his quickened breathing. He was losing it, absolutely losing it, but he would try to keep it together in case she needed more guidance. But she felt sexy as hell - powerful even. Looking up at his eyes with a flutter to her lashes, a smirk coming up her face that he couldn’t detach his eyes from even if he tried. The little devil knew her power over him. She had to at this point.

“You liking this, Gray?” she smiled brightly, knowing the answer but asking anyway.

“So fucking much baby, doing so good for me,” he grunted, head thrown back in bliss with just her hand stroking him.

With the new found confidence blazing through her and his eyes not watching her every move for once, she raised up again and held her hair back, her hand a bit sticky for obvious reasons. She didn’t have time to worry about a sticky hand when she was about to suck dick for the first time, Grayson’s dick at that.

Slowly she slid her lips down his shaft, focused on taking medium length pulls that soon sped up once he had gathered her hair back and she could place both hands on his thighs to steady herself.

“Meet your lips with your hand, baby,” he moaned, biting at his lip, watching her take as much of him as she could.

Not having enough energy to do much else other than comply, she closed her lips tighter around him, feeling her saliva drip down onto her fist that met with her lips now. However; all she could focus on was the way he was breathing, the heavy rise and fall of his stomach. The sighs and moans of her name that spilled out of his mouth to encourage her further. She could feel his thighs shaking slightly, which made her head spin from the mere thought of him being so overworked by her actions. She sucked at him faster, and she soon realized she loved the dirty suction sound her mouth was making around him, the way his cock reached a place deep down her throat.

“Fuck- mhmm gonna cum,” he got out through his pleasured whines, “stop babe, back up m’cumming.”

“I know,” she assured him.

She knew what was coming. But she’d come this far so it wasn’t like she was going to stop. She hummed around hum and it just made his pleasure increase, the hand holding her hand wrapping just a bit tighter with selfish desire as he took one last deep breath and closed his eyes with relief.

He finished in her mouth in long, hot spurts. Spilling out on her awaiting tongue. Y/n kept sucking, trying her best to keep her lips tight - having some thought that if she just kept sucking he would be dry at some point, but he was still wet with her spit.

He was wrecked before her, absolutely spent. He panted loudly above her as she swallowed and looked back at him with her doe eyes and a hopeful smile.

“Was I good?” she teased sweetly.

Fuck you, he wanted to say, so fucking high on pleasure that he honestly would have if it had been any other person besides her. He was just that caught up. But instead of that crude comment, he chose to fall back on the bed with a huff and a “Fucking hell.”

It was nice to see him completely spent and worn out like he was, she had to admit. Made her feel powerful, like she wasn’t some princess that just had to have the world at her feet. Although, watching him flop back on the bed with a smile did make her feel like she did carry the world in the palm of her hands. He was...beautiful.

“It’s just not right that it was your first time,” he joked, still panting, “you’re so good at it.”

Finally having the strength to lift herself up off the floor, she stands on wobbly knees and confidently crawled up his body, careful of his sensitive length laying against his abdomen. Even when he wasn’t hard he was massive. It blew her fucking mind that a man could be that attractive, that he actually just did that with her, that he was then wrapping an arm around her waist to hold her close to his sweating body. He opened his eyes breathlessly just as she leaned in and gave his lips a gentle kiss. Light like a feather, but sweet like honey.

“So,” she traced a shape on the tanned skin of his chest, “does this make me a bad person?”

He wanted to laugh, he really did. But when he looked back at her, she looked seriously concerned that she might have ruined something for herself. And for that, he brought his lips to hers once again for an even longer skin. He rolled his tongue out to slide against her own, and not being a bitch boy, he could taste himself on her mouth - the thought making him smile. They really just did that.

“No, my love,” he whispered, “it makes you a very, very good one.”

My love...my love...fuck.

She laughed at his lame compliment. In retaliation, and just because he wanted to, he gave her a light spank that made her gasp in sharply. By the time she had time to open her mouth and speak, he had already rolled them over and attached their lips. They giggled against one another’s mouths, Y/n holding his hair, Grayson rubbing his thumbs across her hips.

“I don’t want this to be over,” he admitted quietly to her, forehead resting against hers lazily. He knew this was a dreamland and he would have to wake up to a frat house full of passed out drunks and a fuck ton of trash to clean up. But she was...damn near impossible to stop kissing and now that he’s gotten a taste of what it’s like to have her in his arms - he doesn’t want to let her go.

It made her heart flutter to hear him say something so honest and raw in a time like this, him being naked and pressed on tip

“It doesn’t have to be...” she trailed off, not knowing if he meant he didn’t want the night to end or something deeper.

“Yeah? You sure you want to hang out with a fray boy? I’ve heard they're jerks,” he teased, tickling at her side and grinning when she wiggled in his arms.

She nodded against his chest, not having enough courage to respond, but wanting to give a response anyway. She had to admit, she was overjoyed when Grayson slid out from under her and wrapped her up nice and snug in his bed, sliding right in next to her and pulling her close.

She didn’t know what it meant for them, what this meant for her, or where the fuck they stood. All she knew was that Grayson’s lips sprinkled kisses across her face just to help her fall asleep that night...and no one in her life as ever made her feel so worthy. Loved. Touched. Not just psychically, but emotionally, spiritually, and beyond. And for once the thought of being close to someone didn’t scare her.

tags: @episkygrant @highoffdolan @mercurygrant @indiyaesthetic @livelongdolan @dolandolll @aquadolan @prettyboydolan @blindedbythelightt @persistence-ofmemories @deeperdolan @zeusgrayson @nikesbailey @dolansaint @goldenndolan @kate-the-holland @money-is-the-reason-we-exist @hereticryan @dolansontheblock

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sylvies-chen · 3 years

Text

You Make Me Feel So Young

Summary: Tim shows up at Lucy's apartment after struggling with some guilt, and finally gets that dance she'd saved for him.

Warnings: none

Words: 2.6K

A/N: For day 1 of the Chenford Fanfic Week 2021 organized by @therookiebook!! I'm so excited to participate, I hope you guys like this oneshot <3

AO3 link

++++++++

He feels guilty.

Lucy knows he does, even before he tells her. After everything at Angela’s wedding went down, after she and Jackson had been taken and nearly died, after the dust had settled from that entire stressful day, Lucy can feel the guilt oozing out of him.

Only Tim Bradford shows up at her door to talk about it, and it’s about the last thing she expects to happen.

Like, ever.

“Hey,” he blurts out as soon as she opens the door.

“Hi.” Lucy doesn’t know what to say but she knows the hand that’s holding onto the edge of her door feels numb all of a sudden and her breath gets caught in her throat.

“Can I come in?” Tim asks, trying to seem nonchalant. Lucy sees right through it, knows that him coming here alone, out of the blue, must mean something’s wrong. But she doesn’t say anything because she knows Tim takes a while sometimes to be able to open up. So instead, she nods.

“Yeah, of course.” Jackson’s out, so she lets Tim in without hesitation. Not that it’d matter if he were here, really, but she sees that broken, guilt-ridden look in Tim’s eyes and knows it’s best that they’re alone.

He plays it cool at first— out of self-preservation, she thinks— and looks around the apartment as she lets him in.

“This place looks a lot nicer than the last time I saw it,” he starts out.

“Yeah, well Cujo’s not around to tear up pillows anymore so I’d say it’s a big improvement,” she jokes meekly.

His hands are shoved in his pockets stiffly as he walks around her living room, glancing over to Jackson’s bedroom.

“Jackson’s not here?”

“No, he went to check up on Angela. I’m surprised you aren’t there too,” she adds.

“Why’s that?”

“Because it’s where you’ve been for the past week,” Lucy explains simply, glancing at him expectantly and waiting for him to talk. Not this kind of talk, not small talk or dancing around what he really needs to get off his chest, but for him to actually, really talk.

All does is stand by her couch, less than ten feet away from her, and avoid her gaze. She swears she can see his fists tensing up in the pockets of his jeans. “I didn’t realize you were keeping track.”

“I wasn’t.” She was . “I just know how worried you were about her when she was taken. I don’t blame you for not wanting to leave her side.”

“Just making up for what I didn’t do the first time, I guess,” he grumbles under his breath.

Lucy sighs, cutting their small talk short and getting to the point. “Why are you really here, Tim?”

Her bluntness surprises him, she thinks, because he blinks at her. “What?”

“Why are you here?” She repeats. “You’ve never shown up at my place randomly while off shift. Hell, I didn’t even think you’d remembered I live here. I know this past week has been intense but clearly you need something or else you wouldn’t have come here. So would you just tell me whatever it is you want to say so that I can help you?”

He exhales quietly, his chest shaking as it falls. “It’s my fault. Angela and Jackson nearly died, she nearly lost her baby, they were put in danger at her own damn wedding, and it’s… it’s my fault.”

“No, no,” she replies sympathetically, shaking her head. “It’s not. What happened to them happened because of La Fiera, not you.”

“I was her man of honour,” he explains with a dry and slightly sarcastic chuckle. “Where’s the honour in failing to protect the bride?”

“If you really felt that, you wouldn’t have come here. You knew,” she tells him, her voice determined and fierce. “You knew I wouldn’t let you sit here and feel sorry for yourself. If you wanted to sit around feeling sorry for yourself you would have gone to a bar, alone. But you came here, which means somewhere deep down you know you couldn’t have done anything to stop it.”

For one of the only times since Lucy’s known him, Tim Bradford is speechless. He looks for words but finds none, huffs, and sits down on her couch, fiddling nervously with his thumbs. Her heart sinks at the sight of it. This guilt of his isn’t going away with anything she says, she knows that now. Healing takes time, so all she can really do is just be there for him.

She sits down next to him on the couch, leaving only an inch of space. “You don’t have to carry the weight of everything, you know,” she continues gently. “You take on so much, you don’t always have to feel so responsible for every bad thing that happens. That’s no way to live.”

“I’m a cop,” he shrugs painfully. “I became a cop because I wanted to keep helping people, protecting them. So sure, it might make me a more serious person, but I do it because it’s supposed to be what I do best.”

“I get that. But no one’s perfect. I’m not perfect, even with all of your Tim tests,” she teases meekly. “That doesn’t mean you did anything wrong. You fought hard to get both of them back and you did. You did that. Angela’s home now, she and the baby are safe and alright. That’s what matters.”

He looks at her, stunned but greatly appreciative. “Thanks,” he offers, slightly begrudgingly, after a moment. “I just... thanks .”

“I think I have something of yours,” she tells him gently, changing the subject to lighten the mood. Because if she can’t assuage his guilt then at the very least, she can make him feel better; feel happy again.

Tim’s brows scrunch up, sending a confused look her way. Lucy wordlessly moves to pull out her phone, connecting it to the small wireless speaker on the coffee table. The buttons crisply click as she turns up the volume, pressing play on the first ballad she finds in her list of varied songs. (But her taste in music isn’t actually as diverse as she’d like and is really just filled with K-pop tracks).

The music streams through the speaker and throughout the apartment, audible but still quiet so as not to disturb the other tenants. Tim stays seated as Lucy stands up, still confused but shifting to the edge of his seat as if being drawn to her by an unnamed force.

Lucy finally extends her open palm, giving him a shy but cheeky grin. “Your dance, Officer Bradford?”

Realization hits and Tim’s shoulders relax a little. “I don’t know, I’m not in the mood for dancing right now.”

“Come on,” she pleads. “It’ll make you feel better, I promise. Or, at the very least, it’ll give you something to tease me about at work.”

Tim gives a hearty chuckle, smiling widely as he accepts her hand. It makes Lucy smile too. Why shouldn’t it? He’s always so surly and serious, making him laugh would make anyone proud and giddy. Right?

“Alright. After you, Officer Chen,” he replies as she pulls him off the couch and onto the rug in her living room. His hand is warm. They’re calloused, and bigger than hers to the point where her fingers get swallowed up in his as he gives her hand a squeeze. But god, they’re so warm and safe . Her mind can’t stop coming back to that observation, no matter how much she knows she shouldn’t.

Tim’s other hand finds her waist, his grip gentle. Her hand flies to his chest, pulling him in until her chin is inches away from resting on his shoulder.

Up until now, space hasn’t really been an issue for them. The only time there’d been this much physical contact between them was last year when Caleb had buried her alive. Even then, the situation had allowed for a special exception. She’d needed all the physical and emotional support she could get at that moment, and Tim had provided it for her.

Now though, there's no exception, no special circumstance, no excuse. They’re dancing while wrapped up in each other solely because they want to be, and that change is enough to terrify Lucy. She doesn’t move though, only keeps swaying to the music and letting out small, shaky breaths.

What can she say? She never was one to back down from something that scared her.

“You’re a good dancer,” Lucy points out quietly.

“You’re not half bad yourself,” he replies, his breath catching onto her neck and sending a delightful shiver down her spine.

“Is it safe to say you’re enjoying yourself? You feel more relaxed, I daresay you’re having fun,” she tries teasing.

“I’m just surprised,” he counters. “I was prepared for my toes to endure some serious stomping.”

“Oh please, like my tiny toes could ever harm you.” Her nose scrunches playfully as she feigns a threatening look, which makes Tim smile again. What is it with that smile of his killing her softly?

“I don’t know, you’re a lot tougher than you look.”

“Was that a compliment?” She asks teasingly.

“Don’t tell Nova, she’ll get jealous,” he jokes back, continuing to sway to the music.

“Yeah but I bet she’d love this,” Lucy remarks. In her head, she adds that the line between herself and Nova is getting blurred but it goes unspoken and, eventually, ignored.

“Nova’s not the only one,” he risks replying. “You’re right. This is… nice .”

Tim leans back a little to meet her eye, the swaying decelerating until they’re standing in her living room. Alone. With an intense and inviting gaze piercing into her eyes.

“It is,” Lucy agrees. Her voice is barely audible and before she can think twice, she blurts out probably the worst thing she could ever think of: the thing she means with every fiber of her being. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”

She really does mean it. She wants to stay there forever, where everything feels good and safe and right . Only she hadn’t meant to say that out loud, per se. To her surprise though, he doesn’t react poorly to it. Instead, he flashes the smallest smile and nods in agreement, swallowing hard. "Me too."

He looks so young like that, something juvenile and exciting radiating off of him like a breath of fresh air. For a second, she almost thinks he’s the same age as her.

And oh fuck , something just clicks after that.

His lips part only slightly, his eyes glimmering with something intense and hopeful. Her skin is on fire, her heart is racing, and every neuron in her brain is telling her to look away but she can’t. She can’t escape his eyes. Lucy doesn’t know what this thing between them is, only that one minute, they’re dancing and the next, they’re… doing something else. The swaying stops and everything comes to a glaring halt as the song starts to come to a gradual end. They’re left with nothing to do but stand there and look at each other. It’s almost like he’s listened to her and that somehow, he’s made them become completely frozen in time so that maybe, just maybe, they really could stay here forever.

Admittedly, terrifyingly, Lucy would have no complaints about that.

They’re holding each other too— god , she almost forgot about his hands on her wait, on her back. They’re strong and massive and yet so gentle. And before she knows it, they’re pulling her in closer and closer.

His face is inches apart from her, their lips so close. She shouldn’t be thinking about his lips, about any of the things she’s feeling right now, but she can feel his breath and it makes it impossible to think of anything else. Her chest is almost pressed against his and she wonders if Tim can feel the shaky rise and fall of her chest against his.

They get closer again, and closer, and closer…

Then, the door clicks and swings open, sending her and Tim jumping apart.

The moment ends before it ever has a chance to start.

“Hey, I’m back,” Jackson calls out as he walks in, checking his phone. “So fire up the next episode of Love Island and put in the popcorn because I am ready to g—”

Jackson stops mid-sentence once he looks up from his phone and finds Lucy, standing next to Tim as they both look away from each other with flushed cheeks and awkward coughs from their throats. The music on her phone has stopped now, thankfully, but the light from the speaker still flashes to indicate it’s on and Jackson soaks in the whole scene. He meets it with confusion though, his brows furrowing.

“Uhh… What’s going on here?”

“I was just about to leave,” Tim announces, looking down at the floor as he makes a beeline for his coat.

“Right, yeah,” Lucy nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, I guess?”

“Yeah, of course. Uh, bye,” he replies awkwardly, his eyes meeting Lucy’s one last time with something that she daresay looks like disappointment— like yearning. Jackson’s still there though, and so the moment is short-lived. Tim’s hands fly back into his pockets, just as stiff as they were when he first came over, and he leaves. The door shuts behind him abruptly.

Lucy stares at the door where Tim used to be, her shoulders sagging in a disappointment of her own, but she turns to see Jackson staring at her and knows she has no way to explain… well, to explain whatever the hell just happened.

“You want to tell me why Tim was here?”

“He felt guilty about what happened with you and Angela,” she explains, a little defensively. “I was just talking it out with him.”

“Sure, yeah,” Jackson nods with an unconvinced laugh, “that’s why you two jumped apart like frogs as soon as I came in.”

“We did not jump apart ,” she protests.

“Ok, if you say so,” he concedes, his hands up in surrender. “Besides, whatever you two were doing here, I just—… don’t want to know.” He lets out a small chuckle after that, shaking his head as he moves to grab a pack of unpopped popcorn out of the cupboard and put it in the microwave.

“It was nothing,” she mumbles quietly. “Nothing happened.”

It’s the first real lie she’s told that night. Jackson drops it after that though, and she sighs to herself as she sits back down on the couch.

She closes her eyes as the microwave buzzes and Jackson starts to ramble about his visit with Angela, slowly transporting herself back to that dance with Tim.

Maybe she’s wrong for this, maybe she’s completely insane and unprofessional. But as she plays it over in her head, her own words ring through her head and she realizes that maybe she really did want to stay like that with Tim forever.

Oh, screw it . She knows she did. It’s not a fact she can necessarily scream out to the world, but she did.

To Lucy, there are much worse things to want to be.

#Chenford Fanfic Week 2021 #chenford fic week 2021 #CFW 2021 #chenford #the rookie #lucy chen #tim bradford

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evolmaze · 3 years

Text

bts hyung line find/hear your confession

summary - hyung line finds or hears your confession

pairing - jin x reader, young x reader, hoseok x reader, namjoon x reader

genre - fluff, angst, comfort

word count - 3.1k words

warnings - some angst, otherwise pretty harmless!

a/n: parts for the maknae line will be out soon!

masterlist

JIN

You had spent weeks racking your brain for some sort of answer, for an explanation why you suddenly thought your friend and neighbor from down the hall was the only person for you. It had happened so quickly, you didn’t even realize. One night you’re watching a movie together, something you’ve done at least once a month, and the next thing you know your heart is racing at the idea of him being in the same room as you. You had no idea why you started to feel this way, but the instant you realized, you couldn’t stop yourself from constantly watching him, thinking of him, wondering what in the world you were gonna do.

You were currently on the phone with your best friend, complaining to her for the hundredth time about how rude it was that Jin thought it was perfectly normal to walk around the laundry room shirtless, “I mean come on f/n, he’s so hot it should be illegal. The man has the body of a god, and I as an innocent bystander should at least be given a warning before walking into it!”

“What do you mean ‘walked into it’?” she asked, amusement in her voice, and you groaned.

“I was doing laundry the other day, and I ran right into him as he was leaving the room, I dropped my clothes everywhere, and he totally saw my underwear and bras, but that’s not the point, the point is that he was shirtless, he was laughing at his clumsiness, and it was the hottest thing I had ever seen.”

It was at that moment that Jin had walked up to your door, preparing to ask you to borrow your hammer, when he heard your voice faintly through the wall.

“F/n, I don’t know what to do, I’ve literally never felt this way about someone before, and it’s not like I can even say anything, we barely know each other--yes I know we’ve hung out before, but everything feels different now, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’ll probably pass out the next time I see him, and if he’s not wearing a shirt again, oh my fucking god, plan my funeral please.”

Jin laughed quietly, deciding he could ask for the hammer later, he had other plans to attend to, like making sure to ask you about this supposed incident the next time he was in the laundry room; shirt conveniently off for your viewing pleasure.

YOONGI

“Hey I have a question,” Yoongi mused, turning down the radio. You and Yoongi were on your way to a cabin up north, planning to meet some friends there for a fun weekend getaway. You’d been on the road for almost two hours now, and he had decided that it was time to break the silence that had settled between the two of you.

“Yeah what’s up?” you asked, closing your book, and setting it in your bag. You waited as he beat his fingers rhythmically against the steering wheel.

“Who’s Voldemort?” you froze in your seat, and turned to him slowly, gauging his expression. How the hell did he know about that?

“Why do you ask?” you said slowly, thankful for your sunglasses that hid your panicked expression.

“When you asked me to grab your bag from your room, there was an envelope addressed to ‘Voldemort’sitting on it. Do you have a pen pal or something?”

No, no you did not have a pen pal. Stupidly, you had written your feelings to Yoongi out on paper, an ode to all the boys i’ve loved before. You planned to store it away forever, never to be read again, in hopes of riding this stupid crush from your heart. All you wanted was peace, and the ability to hang with him without the looming cloud of love stalling over your head, but you must have forgotten to put it away before you left.

“Uh, no, no it’s not that,” you muttered, trying you best to sound nonchalant. “Just a letter I was writing to someone, probably won’t send it though.”

“Their name isn’t actually Voldemort, is it?”

You laughed, “No it’s not. It’s a pseudonym, my friends and I used it all the time to talk about boys we liked in middle school.”

Yoongi sat in silence for a second, and you hoped that that was the end of the conversation. “Do you like this Voldemort?”

You paled, and cleared your throat. “Uh, I don’t know, it’s complicated. I’m trying to get over them, so it’s probably best to not talk about it.”

Yoongi nodded, and didn’t say much for a while, and you assumed that was the end of it, thank god. The drive went on in silence, and you calmed down a bit, mentally cheering for evading a disastrous situation. You even talked with Yoongi about other topics like the weekends upcoming events, and how excited you were to try this new soju flavor. It was nice, peaceful, and definitely less stressful then the previous conversation. That was until you both started talking about college and first impressions. You had been explaining your thoughts on your other friends Namjoon and Lia when he stopped you.

“Wait,” he said suddenly, “Didn’t you and Lia have nicknames for everyone?”

“Yeah, we made up nicknames for everyone based on Harry Potter characters...” you said, trailing off on the end as you connected the dots.

“Yeah!” Yoongi exclaimed, oblivious. “Like yours was Ginny, Joon’s was Lupin, mine was..” he paused, looking over at you suspiciously. “Mine was Voldemordt, right?”

You shook your head, “Noooo, yours was something else I think.”

“Hmm, no I’m pretty sure it was Voldemordt,” he said. “Cause you and Lia always joked about how I was pale just like him,” You didn’t say anything in response, instead finding the dirt under your nails way more interesting.

“Y/n...” he called, pulling you from your thoughts. You didn’t look at him, too embarrassed to talk about it. “Hey, it’s fine, seriously.”

“Ah, can we please not talk about it,” you whined, putting your head in your hands. This was so awkward. You had written a middle school crush letter to the man sitting right next to you, and you still had to spend the whole weekend and ride back with him, great.

“Okay,” he said simply, tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel again. “I guess I’ll just have to wait to read it.”

“Oh no way, you’re not reading it!” you yelled, facing him as adrenaline raced through your veins. “I’m burning it the second we get back.”

“But why? I wanna hear all the nice things you said about me, you never compliment me in person.”

“Shut up,” you said, a blush blossoming on your cheeks. He laughed, lightly swatting your knee.

“So mean,” he teased. He lifted his hand to pull your hand from your face. You looked up, surprised by his action. He was never one for skinship, especially with you. “You know I’m joking, right?”

You nodded, “Yeah, no, I do, no worries, it’s fine”

“Good,” he said simply, bringing his hand back down the arm rest, except he hadn’t let go of your hand, so yours followed suit, held in his grasp. You stared intently at your intertwined hands, and then looked at him, confused. He was staring straight ahead, but you could see the smile forming on his face, and the red hue on his cheeks as well. Looks like you weren’t the only one with a secret.

HOSEOK

Hey y/n! Do you have a copy of the notes from last class that I can borrow?

You smiled at your phone, Hoseok had definitely slept through class again this week, and as always, you were more than willing to share notes, any excuse to talk to him, right?

Yeah for sure! Give me one sec and I’ll send you a link to my notes

You had always preferred to take notes on your computer, you could type way faster than you could write, so in fast-paced lectures it just made sense. You found the document within a folder the two of you shared information. With Hoseok consistently sleeping through one class every other week, and you having such detailed notes, it made much more sense to just put all your notes in a folder he could access. You found the latest document with your notes, and quickly shared it with him.

Just sent it now, it’s in the folder with all the other ones in case you need them too! Let me know if you have any questions!

Sounds great, thank youuuuu!!!

You grinned at his response before going back to your studying. He usually had questions, so you were a little surprised when he never texted you back. You figured maybe he understood it better than you, and made a mental note to ask him some questions next time you saw him. You went about the rest of your day, finishing up your homework, getting your laundry washed and put away, and four hours later, still no word from Hoseok.

“So weird,” you mumbled to yourself as you grabbed your keys. You had talked about meeting him for dinner tonight, so you wondered if he was still up for it.

Hey are you still up for dinner tonight? Hope studying is going well!

After 10 minutes, and no response, you grew worried and annoyed, so you decided to just walk over to his place yourself. The walk was short, you jammed the whole way, wondering what you’d get tonight, and hoping that your professor would put out grades soon. Walking into the dorm, you passed a number of doors before standing outside Hoseok’s.

You knocked three times, and waited patiently for him to answer. The door creaked open slowly, and you watched as his head appeared in the crack. He stared at you and said nothing.

You cleared your throat, “Uh, hey. I texted, but you didn’t answer, are you still down for dinner tonight?” He said nothing still, and you sighed. “It’s fine if you’re busy, I can go. Text me next time you’re free to hang.” You didn’t mean to sound annoyed, but you were hurt, confused why he was acting this way all of the sudden, especially with no explanation. Waving goodbye, you turned on your heel and walked down the hallway. You made it about three steps before he called out your name.

“Y/n, wait, I’m sorry.” turning around, confused, you saw him open the door. “Please come in.” He gave you a half smile, and you sighed, ignoring the smile that sat on your face as you entered his dorm. It was dark, his blinds were drawn, and it looked like a hurricane had come through here, which was odd since he was usually so clean.

“Hey what happened here? Everything okay?” you asked, worried, when you turned to face him he was standing by his desk, computer in hand.

“I--I, um, need you to read this,” he said, handing you his computer. You raised an eyebrow, and turned the computer around. As your eyes adjusted to the bright screen in the otherwise dark room, your heart dropped into your stomach.

It was about a week ago when you wrote a letter to Hoseok. It was 2 in the morning, you were so tired, but you couldn’t sleep, the whirlwind of thoughts running through your mind were too much to handle, so you wrote them all down. Wrote down everything you wanted to say, and closed your computer, never intending to read it again. What you had failed to notice that night was that you created the document inside a folder, the very folder you shared with the man in front of you. You had carelessly titled the document to hoseok so it’s no surprise that he clicked on it, he probably thought it was a funny message to him, but instead he got a look right inside your heart.

You looked up to see him already watching you closely. He looked pained, confused, and most of all angry. “Why would you say those things?”

“I, I, uh--” you paused, you knew at the time it was wrong to write them. He had a girlfriend, they’ve been together for almost a year, and they were so happy together, and you had no problem with that. You loved Julia, and had even introduced the two, but you also couldn’t help how you felt, you had no intention of him ever reading this, you felt awful. “I swear, I didn't realize this was in here, Hoseok I’m so sorry.”

“But you wrote it, and put it in this folder, you must have known I would have seen it at some point.” he protested, coming closer to you.

“I swear, I didn’t do it on purpose, I opened it in the wrong folder, I, oh my god, Hoseok I swear to god I never wanted you to read that.” you said, tears filling your eyes. You had jeopardized everything with your carelessness. He took the computer from your hands and set it on the desk. You couldn’t look him in the eyes as he sat next to you on his bed.

“I believe you,” he said quietly, and you nodded. “I’m sorry there’s not more I can say.”

You shook your head, “Why are you apologizing, it’s not your fault. I was the one who put it in the wrong folder. At least the worst part is over though,” you laughed weakly at the statement, the worst was far from over, but at least you could stop staying up at night wondering what he thought about you. “I’m sorry that you’re in such a weird position, I promise that I’m working on it, I’ve been trying to get over it.”

“You don’t have to apologize for what you feel, y/n.” he said, standing up in front of you. “This is nobody’s fault, let’s go get dinner and talk it out, yeah?”

You smiled at his attempt to smooth things over, you agreed, but a part of you wondered as you walked out the door how long it would last before you grew distant and never spoke again. For now, you’d cherish these last few memories with him, and always remember the times before it.

NAMJOON

“Just say it,”

“No!”

“Why not?!”

“Cause I already told you no!” you sighed in annoyance, flipping through another page in the magazine you were currently reading, or trying to read at least, until Namjoon showed up and rudely interrupted you.

“Come on, y’n, I need to practice!” you laughed at him, practice? What in the world was he thinking?

“You’re not seriously saying you want to practice this,” you said, setting down the magazine and facing him. He looked at you, and you realized he was serious. “Ugh, fine.”

He grinned, happy that he had finally convinced you to help him out. All of this started about a week ago when Namjoon caught wind that a girl in his bio class had a crush on him, the man absolutely lost it, so flustered and confused, he didn’t know what to do. You felt like you were watching a cheesy romantic comedy with the way he came to you, pacing back and forth in your living room. He was totally clueless, had no idea what to do, and came to you for help. You had been around the block a time or two when it came to dealing with situations like this, so it was no surprise that he wanted your expertise on how to politely reject someone.

It wasn’t that the girl in Namjoon’s bio class was awful or anything like that, it was the fact that Namjoon barely had time to live his own life, let alone make room for someone else. You were lucky if you spoke to him once a week, you practically had a heart attack when he showed up today. He explained to you the rumor he had heard, and how he had also heard that she was going to confess after their next class together. All of that combined was enough to stress the man into oblivion, so he desperately asked for your help.

“y/n thank you so much, I just don’t want to hurt her feelings, you know?”

“You’re literally the nicest person I know, there’s no way she would leave feeling anything but mildly sad, knowing you, you'd probably offer to pay for her bus fare home.” The look on his face had you laughing as it looked as though he was seriously considering it. “I’m kidding, Joon. Don’t do that.”

“What?” he said, “I definitely wasn’t gonna do that.”

You smirked at his obvious lie, “Whatever, let’s get this over with.” Taking a breath, you tried to get into character: a biology girl who likes Namjoon. “Hey Namjoon,” you said, trying to sound flirty and leaned casually on the side of the couch.

“Hey, y/n-”

“Don’t use my name,” you laughed, “use her name.”

“Oh okay,” he said, and he took a breath before looking into your eyes, “Hey, Emily. What’s up?”

“Nothing much, I actually had something I wanted to talk to you about,” you said, getting up from the couch, and walking over to where he stood by the kitchen island.

“Oh what’s that?” he asked, moving away from you just a bit. Your act must have been spot on, you smirked.

“I have feelings for you, Joon.” you said, trying to sound nervous and excited, however the hell someone sounded when they admitted their feelings. You were never one to discuss such personal topics, probably the reason why you were single at 23, but whatever, you liked it that way. Poor Namjoon looked terrified, and you’d take being single over being the cause of a situation like this any day.

“Oh,” he said simply, and you raised your eyebrows at him. “I-oh, I’m sorry, y/n--Emily, I’m way too busy for a relationship right now, I’m sorry.”

You grinned at his attempt, it was weak, but you’d work on it. By the end of the night, he’d be confident and sound sure of his feelings, you could feel it.

“Okay,” you said, patting his shoulder. “That was good, but next time sound more sure of yourself, your reasons are perfectly valid, and if she’s as nice as you say she is, I’m sure she’ll understand. Again.”

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