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seijorhi · 3 years

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Inexorable ♕

My birthday present for my beloved wife @iwaasfairy and my contribution to her birthday bash collab you can find here. I love you, you’re incredible and I hope you like this i even wrote smut for you smh

Iwaizumi Hajime x female reader

tw: dub-con, stalking, unhealthy relationships, very questionable decision making, smut, nsfw, um... implied murder?

He’s sitting on the steps outside your apartment when you get home from work, a lit cigarette dangling between long fingers. He brings it to his lips, the bright cherry red tip glowing as he takes a nice, slow drag and you scurry on past.

Not a word passes between the two of you, but olive eyes follow you up the stairs regardless, just like always. His name is Iwaizumi – Iwa – but you only know that because you’ve heard his friends yelling it down the hallway. In the three months since you’ve moved in, you haven’t so much as introduced yourself to the guy, but like most strangers crammed into the same shitty place there’s some kind of a routine between the two of you.

Why he religiously chooses this time of night to take his smoke break is beyond you, but like clockwork you’ll arrive home, having walked back from the bus stop and Iwaizumi’ll be there waiting for you, cigarette in hand.

Well, not waiting, just… there. Black leather jacket with a hoodie underneath, there’s a cut above his eyebrow tonight that he hasn’t bothered to clean, a purpling bruise colouring his jaw. Whatever dealings Iwaizumi’s tangled up in, you don’t like to think about too much, but you know it can’t be anything good. His friends dress like him, all have the same ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe. You’ve seen their scrapes and bruises too – the weapons that stick out from the waistband of their pants – though you’re always quick to avert your eyes when they catch you staring.

You’ve heard them snickering about it when you hastily dart past, all but slamming your front door shut.

And it’s not that you’re scared of him. There are people who play at being dangerous, and ones who are. Iwaizumi doesn’t strike you as somebody who enjoys playing, and while you don’t doubt for a second that he is dangerous, he isn’t to you. He wouldn’t go out of his way to hurt or scare you – you’re not even a blip on his radar – but what Iwaizumi is, at least as far as you’re concerned, the reason your step quickens and you can’t bear to meet his eyes, is intimidating.

Tall and broad shouldered, with those piercing green eyes. You’ve only seen him smile once, though it was more a quirking of his lips than anything else – usually he just stares, his expression halfway between impassive boredom and a scowl.

No, Iwaizumi doesn’t scare you nearly as much as the bouquet of flowers you find sitting on your doorstep, a handwritten note tucked in between the roses.

—

The calls come next. You block one number and he rings from another, followed by endless texts. Cute little messages you suppose are meant to brighten up your day.

Hi baby, love the skirt you’re wearing today. You know blue’s my favourite on you, always look so damn pretty. It’s like you’re trying to drive me crazy haha

Morning babe, I was thinking about you last night. You remember that trip we always said we were gonna take in the summer down to the lake? I can’t wait to bring you there.

Why won’t you answer my calls? I just wanna talk to you, hear your voice again. Let me make things right. I love you.

Don’t you miss me? I miss you. So, so much… You look beautiful today, by the way.

Baby, I love you, but you really shouldn’t be staying out so late with your coworkers for drinks. I just want you to be safe.

They’re not all soft and sweet though. Sometimes he just sends you pictures, and those creep you out most of all.

You change your number, and it doesn’t make a difference.

—

It’s hard for you to try and convince yourself that you’re imagining the prickling sensation on the back of your neck as you go about your day. You know he’s watching you – the messages and the voicemails just drive that home, but what else are you supposed to do?

You can’t just pack up and run again, and what good is a restraining order when you have no proof he’s violating it – and by the time you do, it probably won’t help you.

Kazuma’s always had patience, but only up to a point.

The final nail comes the day you arrive home to find one of Iwa’s friends heading out from his apartment – the tallest, with the curly dark hair. Barely spares you a glance until he seems to think better of it.

“Didn’t realise you had a boyfriend, sweetheart.”

He says it so casually, but the words make you falter, a sinking feeling in your stomach. “What do you mean?”

And for a moment, he looks half surprised that you’ve bothered to reply – so far you’ve done nothing but pretend to ignore him and Iwa and every last one of their friends. But the mirth slips from his expression quickly enough once he gets a good look at yours, “Blonde guy with a shitty dye job, tall-ish. Saw him leaving your apartment an hour ago.”

But to walk out of your apartment, he had to have first gotten into it.

“Guessing he wasn’t your boyfriend then,” he says, eyeing you with an odd look. But you don’t respond and after a short pause, he simply shrugs and continues on his way.

You couldn’t care less.

Kazuma was in your apartment.

Leaving flowers at your doorstep is one thing, but now he has a key.

And it feels like there’s somebody else moving your body as you stumble towards your apartment, your hand shaking so badly that you fumble and drop your own keys twice before you finally manage to slide them home and push your way inside.

It’s waiting for you inside your bedroom, sitting atop your pillow; a pretty blue box wrapped with white ribbon.

Your phone flashes to life a minute later; an incoming message from an unknown number.

Did you like your present, baby?? I hope you don’t mind, I kinda borrowed a little something too…

With your heart in your throat you watch those three bouncing dots as the image comes through.

A pair of red lace panties – yours – scrunched up in his fist, wrapped around his–

Your stomach heaves, and you barely make it to the bathroom in time before you’re hurling your guts up.

—

You’ve always had an impulsive side, and more often than not it’s landed you into trouble.

So you force yourself to calm down and think before you do anything rash. You head to the police station the very next morning to file a report, fresh off a sleepless night. The officer seems sympathetic, but you know before she even opens her mouth that there’s nothing they can do.

There’s no proof of a crime committed; nothing was taken (nothing you can prove, at any rate) and because your door wasn’t tampered with and the windows weren’t smashed, there’s no evidence of a break in. She suggests changing your locks and going to stay with some friends or family for a few days and you don’t know whether you want to laugh or burst into tears.

And instead of going back to work, you call in sick.

Iwaizumi isn’t sitting on the front steps when you get back home, and why would he be? You’re not supposed to be home for another few hours – so instead you head to his apartment door and mustering every last ounce of courage you possess, you raise your fist and knock.

Silence greets you.

You wait for a moment, a heartbeat, not daring to breathe, but there’s no answer. Which, really, shouldn’t be that surprising considering it’s mid-morning on a Tuesday, but you can’t help the crushing sense of disappointment that washes over you. The thought of trudging back to your apartment to sit and stew alone for the next few hours while you wait for him to come back makes your skin crawl. You can’t just sit still and twiddle your thumbs, not when–

Abruptly, the door in front of you swings open, and you find yourself face to face with a glaring Iwaizumi. His expression falters, momentary surprise flickering across his eyes at the sight of you standing in his doorway.

This time you don’t avert your eyes. Your heart’s pounding, your hands clammy and trembling by your side, but this is the only choice you have left. And so as a single eyebrow cocks and Iwa falls into a lean against the doorframe – the only invitation you’re gonna get – you steel your nerves, take a deep breath, and speak.

“I-I need a gun.”

To his credit, Iwaizumi doesn’t snort. “You planning on shooting somebody, princess?”

They’re the first words he’s ever spoken to you, and they make your cheeks burn, your stomach twisting into a knot. It’s not a dismissal, but there’s a tinge of amusement colouring his tone and you can’t help but wilt a little under the weight of his gaze.

Better sense would tell you to turn around, walk back to your apartment and curse your own idiocy for entertaining this stupid idea to begin with But Iwaizumi’s staring at you like he’s expecting an answer and all you can think about is the fear that gripped your heart last night, how you couldn’t bear to turn the light off, half terrified that at any moment Kazuma would come back – and this time he wouldn’t be satisfied with just some panties.

You can’t live like this, and you can’t just pack up your life and wait for the same thing to happen in the next place, and the one after that. Kazuma won’t stop, you know that.

“I…” you chew on your bottom lip, dropping your gaze so that you’re staring at his chest instead of those piercing green eyes. “I don’t, I-I’m not–”

“A killer?” he interjects, and you almost flinch at his bluntness“Yeah, no shit.”

Taking another breath in through your nose, you force yourself to meet his gaze, even as your nails bite into the palm of your hand and your heart skips a beat. “I just want…” but you can’t even bear to say the words aloud, not without your voice shaking like a leaf. “It’s for protection. I don’t know who else to go to. Please,” you beg.

Iwa exhales heavily, a crinkle appearing between his brows as he frowns, “This got anything to do with the blonde asshole that’s been sniffing ‘round your place?”

Your bewilderment must show, because he snorts, finally stepping back to let you inside. “Mattsun told me,” he says, answering your unspoken question.

The unmistakably hard edge to his words takes you a little by surprise, but you nod anyway, gingerly taking a seat on the couch when he jerks his chin at it. “Oh, uh, yeah. He’s my ex, kinda. We… didn’t end well.”

It’s the understatement of the century, but you somehow doubt a man like Iwaizumi gives two shits about your past relationship with a stalker. Your fingers play with the hem of your skirt as the imposing man settles down beside you. “So does this mean you’ll get me a gun?” you ask. “I can pay you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I have some money–”

Iwa scoffs, cutting you off. “If you think I’m letting you anywhere near a loaded gun, pretty girl, you’re dumber than I gave you credit for.”

You reel back as if he’s slapped you. But Iwaizumi’s staring at you with that steely expression and blood rushes to your cheeks. Why are you surprised? Did you actually think he was going to help you – a veritable stranger – just because you have some sob story? Why even bother letting you in if he was just gonna make you feel like an idiot? And for a moment you forget the gnawing terror that’s kept you up all night, letting yourself become awash with indignation. You have no control over the hurt noise that leaves your throat, but the ‘Fuck you’ that follows; that one’s intentional.

You don’t have time to regret the insult as you jump to your feet; his hand shoots out to wrap around your wrist, jerking you to a halt the moment you try it.

“I didn’t say you could go,” he tells you, and you can’t fight the shiver that rolls down your spine at the unmistakably commanding tone. “Sit.”

Wordlessly, you comply.

“Look at me.”

Again, there’s that harsh undercurrent in his voice that tells you he’s not asking, and you lift your gaze with a tense swallow. Iwa still hasn’t released your wrist, the warmth of his calloused palm searing against your skin.

He doesn’t speak for a moment, olive eyes studying your face intently as you force yourself to sit still under the appraisal. “I said that I wasn’t going to give you a gun, not that I wasn’t going to help.”

Your eyebrows draw together in confusion, “What–”

“I’ll take care of it,” he snaps, cutting you off once again. And as you inhale sharply, you realise that it’s not anger you see burning in those pretty eyes, but sheer, unrelenting fury, an icy rage that you don’t understand, that terrifies you as much as it enthrals.

Because you feel like it’s on purpose. Like he’s finally letting you get a glimpse of what silently seethes beneath that impassive mask of his. Are you scared now, sweetheart?

“H-how much?” you ask breathlessly, eyes wide and heart pounding.

“I don’t want your money,” he says quietly, his voice low and husky. And just in case there was any confusion as to what he does want, his other hand comes up to your face, a broad thumb tracing along your bottom lip as he cups your cheek.

Iwaizumi leans in slowly, as if he’s giving you time to shove him away and tell him that you’re not that kind of girl. Part of you – the part that’s terrified, frozen stiff and regretting the very moment you decided to step into his apartment and cross that line – wants to. Even now, as those hooded olive eyes drink you in, his warm breath ghosting across your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake, you’re afraid that it’s too late for that. You’ve opened a door that should never have been opened and there’s been a fundamental shift between you and him. There’s no going back for either one of you.

And the other part of you revels in it.

“Don’t kill him,” you murmur the second before his lips meet yours. “Not unless you have to.” You don’t even know if he heard you, and as Iwa deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours you find that you don’t care. You lose yourself to Iwaizumi as he leans closer, gently pushing you to lie back on the couch.

He isn’t satisfied with just your lips for long, planting hot, open mouthed kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat, sucking on the sensitive flesh. His teeth nip at your collarbone as he busies himself unbuttoning your shirt, but your gasp sounds more like a needy whine than a plea for him to stop.

He laughs a little at that, his chest rumbling against your stomach, but he makes no moves to slow down. Instead he turns his attention to your bra, his hands far less gentle with the delicate lace than he was with your shirt, and then his mouth is on your tits, licking, sucking, biting. Tomorrow, your skin will be littered with pretty red and purple marks, and judging from the single minded focus glinting in his eyes as he stares up at you, that’s exactly his intention. Iwa drags the flat of his tongue along the swell of your breast, circling it around your nipple before he sucks it into the wet warmth of his mouth, and the whimpering moan you give him in response is a thing of beauty.

“Good girl,” he croons. “Such pretty, perfect tits.”

Your back arches when he cups the other in his hand, and you cry out when he roughly tugs the sensitive bud. He waits until the sting fades and you relax, sagging back against the cushions with relief before he does it again, harder this time. The sharp, searing pain ripples through you, your breath seizing in your chest as you try in vain to writhe away from his touch, but it’s followed by a flood of pleasure so strong it almost makes you dizzy. The fleeting kiss Iwa bestows on the supple flesh a moment later could almost be taken as an apology – if not from the satisfied smirk curling at his lips. He has no desire to be gentle with you, not today or any other day. That’s not who he is.

Large hands ease down your side, reaching for the hem of your skirt. Iwa doesn’t bother trying to pull it off of you, merely flips it up, exposing your soft thighs and the delicate panties lying underneath.

In an attempt to be helpful, you lift your hips to allow him to drag the lacy scrap of fabric down your legs and discard it, but Iwaizumi seems perfectly content with leaving them where they are. Even so, it takes you by surprise when his mouth descends on your cunt, the wet, pink muscle laving along the seat of your panties. You shiver in response, one hand instinctively reaching out to tangle in those spiky brunette locks, but if you’re about to tell him to stop teasing, the words are robbed from you when Iwa pushes the fabric aside and buries his face in the heat of your pussy.

His nose nudges at your clit and you jerk at the first lap at your folds, already shamefully wet for him. There’s no rhythm or rhyme to the way he eats you out, letting a long, thick finger slide into your cunt while he suckles and licks at your clit, but you can’t deny that it’s working. Your thighs tremble and quake beneath his hands, every second of his attention dragging you closer to unravelling entirely. And you’re awash with pleas, little whimpers and moans as he chuckles, the low vibrations making your fingers tighten in his hair as another burst of pleasure flutters through you. Your hips rise and fall against his face, desperate for more when he finally slides his tongue inside of your heat, eager to taste your cunt properly. You want more, you’re desperate and aching for it; but Iwaizumi’s grip tighten bruisingly against your thigh in warning.

You’re at his mercy, and he’s in absolutely no hurry.

The first time you cum, it takes you by surprise. It feels like an endless build-up, Iwa’s tongue lapping at your pussy like it’s heaven sent, his mouth working diligently to drive you insane. Every touch feels unbearably good, from the long, slow strokes to the way he drags the tip of his tongue along your clit. Your toes are curling, your tits heaving with the desperate breaths you choke down, and all of a sudden his mouth latches onto your clitoris and he sucks hard at the swollen nub. You almost black out right there and then, stars bursting behind closed lids as pleasure wreaks havoc over your body. But as good as that feels, it’s not until you open your eyes and catch sight of the hunger blazing in Iwaizumi’s eyes that you tip over the edge, cumming into his waiting mouth with an earth shattering moan.

At some point he must have let you go to rid himself of his own clothes, and your panties, but you’re boneless, basking in the afterglow as he shifts you once more, lifting one of your thighs up to hook your leg over his shoulder as he settles back onto the couch.

You just watch through hazy eyes as Iwaizumi gives his thick cock, already hard and flushed an angry red, a few cursory pumps. And his eyes are fixed on yours as he leans down, guiding the tip to your sopping cunt.

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this, princess,” he grunts out.

Warning bells sound in your head once more, your gut clenching uneasily, but any protests you might have voiced fall by the wayside as he slowly presses into you. It’s the girth, more than anything else, that takes you by surprise. It hurts, stretching out your poor, oversensitive cunt as his cock fills you up, inch by agonising inch.

Iwa hisses from between clenched teeth and your eyes squeeze shut, trying to breathe through the pain. It won’t last long, you know that, and until it does you just have to grin and bear it.

You can feel it twitching inside of you, every ridge and vein, the way your slick walls hug his cock. His thumb strokes along your hip, soothing you as your face screws up and another whimper slips out. You think you hear him say something, praise maybe, or encouragement, but all you can focus on is the way his cock throbs inside your pussy when he finally bottoms out and stills.

And for a moment, he doesn’t move. A small kindness, letting you become adjusted to his size before he fucks you the way he’s dying to.

“Look at me,” he says, and while his tone isn’t as sharp this time, it’s no less of an order.

Your eyes flutter open as Iwaizumi turns his head just a fraction without breaking eye contact, pressing a soft kiss against your calf. His eyes are glazed with feverish lust, pupils blown wide, almost swallowing up that thin ring of olive green entirely, and you wonder whether you should feel afraid right now.

You don’t have the words to describe it, the distant unease that seeps through you as you stare into the eyes of a man who’s clearly not in control anymore. If you screamed right now, tried to fight back or stop him, would it make a difference?

Do you actually want to?

“You’re mine,” he growls out, drawing his hips back and slamming them forward ruthlessly as you choke on a scream.

He’s relentless, hissing out curses as he fucks you like a rag doll, filling your wet, tight little cunt again and again and again. It’s all you can do to fist at the edge of the cushion, one hand wrapping around his back, your nails raking down his skin, drawing blood in their wake.

And Iwa doesn’t care, tossing his head back as he pounds his cock into your needy cunt, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. “Iwa,” you plead between gasping breaths, clinging to his broad frame. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, not as he grabs you by the hips and lifts you up, hauling you closer so he can fuck you deeper. And you can feel his cockhead rutting against your cervix with every vicious thrust, the painful stretch of your cunt as you’re forced to take his fat cock. It hurts, it does, but holy fuck you can’t focus on that when his fingers slip between your legs and he starts to rub at your puffy, oversensitive clit.

You’re whining, mewling, hips shifting as you rock against him, desperate for more friction. “Please, Iwa,” you moan.

The sound of it, the lewd slaps of skin against skin, the wet squelching as he drives his cock home again with an unforgiving pace would be enough to make you burn with embarrassment, but you don’t care because you’re quickly losing yourself to mindless pleasure. Every stroke fills you completely, it’s hot and thick and the drag of his cock against your plush walls, the way it kisses that sweet perfect spot with every thrust is driving you to insanity.

“Fuck!” you cry, clenching tightly around his length as you hurtle over the edge for a second time. You’re gushing, convulsing, back arched up off the couch, lips parted and–

Iwaizumi stops with a growl and you barely have time to process it before he’s flipping you onto your front, yanking your ass up into the air and hammering his cock back into your swollen, abused little pussy. It’s a bruising pace he sets as he chases after his own end, your name falling from his lips in harsh, breathless grunts.

It doesn’t take long for his thrusts to become sloppy, your cunt sucking him in and pulsing around his cock. And you don’t have the mental capacity to beg him to pull out, not as his muscular chest collapses against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist and he pumps you full of his seed.

Neither one of you move straight away, both fighting to catch your breath and calm down in the afterglow of your orgasms. Your eyes flutter shut as he presses soft, sweet kisses to the back of your neck, your shoulders, anywhere he can reach. It’s an intimacy that doesn’t belong here, but you find yourself arching into it, a small, tired smile curling at your lips as Iwaizumi lavishes you with affection.

And you can only whine softly when he finally pulls his cock out and stands, lifting your boneless form up into his arms, chuckling quietly when you bury your head into his chest. Your head’s empty, your thoughts a jumbled mess as he carries you into his bedroom, depositing you carefully onto the bed.

Iwaizumi leaves you there like that, and when he returns a few minutes later he’s dressed again. He doesn’t smile, but there’s something oddly content about his expression as he stops by the doorway and takes in the sight of you; naked and thoroughly fucked out, curled up amongst his covers.

“Iwa?” you ask sleepily, stretching your aching body to make yourself more comfortable as you nestle further into the soft mattress.

He doesn’t answer you as he strides in, but you watch through half lidded eyes as his expression hardens. Stopping by the bedside, Iwaizumi reaches for you. You think he’s going to cup your cheek again, maybe run his fingers through your hair, but instead his hand slides between your thighs, gathering up some of the cum that’s seeped from your pussy with his fingers and slowly pushing it back inside of you, humming when you whine and shift under him.

“I’m leaving for a bit,” he tells you, your gut clenching as you remember why you’re in this position in the first place. “You don’t leave this apartment until I get back. You don’t answer the door, you don’t tell anyone you’re here, you don’t leave this bed unless you have a goddamn good reason. Understand?”

Weakly, you nod.

“Such a good girl for me,” he breathes, and this time when he leans over he does kiss you, sweeping your hair back from your face before his warm lips meet your cheek. He lingers there for a beat longer than necessary before pulling away with a sigh.

And as the door swings shut, the sound of the lock clicking into place behind him, you begin to question whether you’ve made a mistake. You don’t doubt for a second that Iwa will follow through with his promise. Whether it’s tonight or tomorrow or a week from now, he’ll find Kazuma; him and his friends, and they’ll make sure he stays away. And until they do, you won’t leave this apartment.

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that despite your pleas, Iwaizumi’ll kill him.

Not because that’s the only way for this to end, though you realise that that’s always been a possibility, but because of what you glimpsed in his eyes today. Stupidly, you’d thought you had Iwa pegged. But there’s something that lurks beneath that facade, something more dangerous than you could’ve possibly imagined and the moment you opened the door to Iwaizumi it sunk its teeth into you and now you’re not sure if it’ll ever let you go.

And as you lie back in Iwaizumi’s bed, covered in the marks he left behind you wonder whether you’ve merely traded one monster for another. Perhaps it was inevitable. Inexorable.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere iwaizumi #yandere iwaizumi x reader #yandere iwaizumi hajime #yandere iwaizumi hajime x reader #tw: dubcon #tw: stalking #i've said it like 48 times today #but ily fairy #you deserve the world #if you haven't gone to wish her a happy bday #GO NOW

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jared-19-cant-reid · 4 years

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Sunday Kind of Love

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: M

Summary: You need a date to your sister’s wedding, and Spencer begrudgingly agrees to help you out. Your feelings for him become difficult to hide, and Spencer really commits to his role as your “boyfriend”.

Word Count: 5.3K

Content Warnings: Family conflict, minor angst, unprotected sex, Dom!Spencer/Sub!Reader, bondage, daddy kink, spitting, choking, breath play, exhibitionism/public sex, teensy bit of sacrilege

Author’s Note: This fic idea came to me while I was listening to “A Sunday Kind of Love” by Etta James, so I’d highly recommend listening to it if you read the fic. Gives you the ~vibe~. Anyway, this is way longer than I expected but Spencer and reader deserved the extra time! I hope u enjoy :)

“C’mon, just make an appearance with me!” You pleaded. “It’s just one night! How bad can it be?” I didn’t even believe the words as they came out of my mouth.

Morgan snorted at that, shaking his head as he moved to exit the bullpen. “Sorry, kid. I love you, but I am not spending my night off at your bitchy sister’s wedding.”

You sighed, reluctantly stepping aside to allow him to leave. Beginning to lose hope, you turned to your only remaining coworker. Spencer was still sitting at his desk, busying himself with organizing drawers and repositioning folders to avoid meeting your gaze as you approached his desk.

“Spencer, please come with me tonight. I can’t deal with my sister alone, and I think I might die if I have to explain to her that the guy I told her I was bringing ghosted me last week.” As you spoke, you watched him try to think of a way to protect your feelings without going. In the year you’d worked at the BAU you’d come to see everyone on the team as family, but it was Reid you felt closest to. When he didn’t respond immediately, you put your hand on his shoulder. “Spence, I need you.” You spoke quietly, but he heard you clearly.

He looked up at you at your last words, visibly conflicted. You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, and he sighed, standing up. Knowing you had won, you threw your arms around his neck in a hug, nearly sending the two of you tumbling over in your enthusiasm. He tentatively wrapped his arms around you, returning the gesture of affection.

His touch brought with it feelings of peace and happiness that you had come to associate with Spencer. Your smile grew impossibly wider as you thanked him a million and one times, squeezing him tightly as you felt relief spread through your body. Forcing yourself to pull away, you noticed his lips had quirked up into a small smile at your reaction.

“You know, almost twenty percent of weddings are called off. There’s still a chance it won’t even happen.” Spencer mumbled as you walked out together. You weren’t sure if he was trying to comfort you or himself. As you reached the garage, you thanked him again for agreeing to be your date. He just nodded, visibly nervous about the event.

You stopped him before he could start walking to the metro. “Let me drive you home,” you insisted, “it’ll be faster and we can talk over our game plan on the way!”

“Game plan?” He questioned, amused at your choice of words.

“Just pretend we’re going undercover on a case! We’ll get into character and everything. This can be fun if we make it fun.” Spencer seemed unconvinced, but he followed you to your car.

As you drove to his place, Spencer seemed to relax as he started to plan, happy to gain some control over the situation. You knew he hated big events, especially ones with a lot of strangers, but your deep dislike for most of your sister’s invite list meant you’d at least suffer together. Pulling up to the curb, you said a quick goodbye, telling him to be ready in an hour.

When you got home, you jumped through the shower, scrubbing off the stress of the work day to allow family-related stress to take its place. You quickly blew your hair dry, putting more effort into your hair and makeup than you usually did. As you reached your closet, you scanned your dresses for one that would match the maroon tie Spencer planned on wearing. A smile spread across your lips when you spotted it, your fingers toying with the soft fabric as you imagined Spencer’s reaction when he saw it.

You tried to push the thought away, sighing at your own hopelessness. You’d been trying to bury your feelings for Spencer ever since you joined the BAU, but it was a losing battle. You found it impossible to ignore him, despite your efforts to remain neutral in his presence. Your heart swelled at the excitement shining in his soft hazel eyes, skipped a beat at the sight of his tongue resting between his lips in concentration, and stopped altogether at the way his hands moved and flexed when he spoke. The opportunity to spend this much one-on-one time with Spencer in what you were sure would be an incredibly flattering suit was almost worth the stress of dealing with your family.

You slipped on the soft satin dress, admiring how it hugged your curves and flowed around your legs. The plunging v-neck was flattering, but tasteful enough to stave off disapproving looks from older guests, leaving you comfortable and confident. You stood in front of the mirror, taking in your appearance as you would a stranger’s. The face that looked back at you was friendly but tense, hands fiddling restlessly with the soft fabric of your dress. It didn’t take a profiler to see you needed to relax.

Taking a deep breath, you cleared your mind, taking a few minutes to give your mind rest and ground yourself. Opening your eyes again, your reflection looked much more peaceful, nodding as you decided you were ready to leave. As you drove to Spencer’s, you felt your heartbeat quickening, this time from excitement instead of stress.

Knocking softly, you were surprised to hear Spencer’s footsteps already nearing you, as if he had been waiting by the door. As he stepped outside, your breath hitched. You shouldn’t be so affected by the sight of him, it’s not like he’d never worn a suit in front of you before. It was mostly the look on his face that struck you, his lips slightly parted and eyes scanning your body as he took in the sight of you.

“So what do you think? Good enough to pass for a put-together adult who hasn’t been dreading this day for months?” You asked.

He took a second to respond. “Y-yeah, you… you definitely shouldn’t worry about it. I mean you look great- not that you don’t usually look great it’s just-”

You interrupted him for his own sake, giggling a soft “thank you, Spence. You don’t look half bad yourself.” Understatement of the century.

Soft music played through the speakers in your car, soothing your nerves as you hummed along to “A Sunday Kind of Love” quietly. You almost jumped when you heard Spencer begin to hum with you.

“You know this song?! I didn’t know you listened to any non-classical music!” You exclaimed, unreasonably excited at your discovery.

“I’ve heard you listening to Etta James on the jet a couple times, so I checked out a couple of her songs,” Spencer said simply. You tried to pretend your heart hadn’t just exploded at the implications behind his words. You couldn’t trust your voice to mask your overflowing adoration for the man beside you, so you just smiled and began to sing along quietly.

Oh I'm hoping to discover

A certain kind of lover

Who will show me the way

Lost in the music, you were surprised for the second time that car ride by Spencer’s voice joining yours to sing the chorus. Your eyes shot to his face, but he kept his eyes forward, a small smile the only sign he’d seen your reaction. You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face as you sang with him, his attempts at melody bringing a smile to your face. The words seemed to gain meaning as your voices joined together, both looking forward but focused fully on each other.

To keep me warm when Mondays and Tuesdays grow cold

Love for all my life to have and to hold

Oh and I want a Sunday kind of love

Before you knew it, you had arrived. It was as if the bubble that had protected you from the reality of the situation had popped, leaving you exposed to the harsh world that lay waiting for you. Spencer reached out and squeezed your hand, silently reassuring you of his presence, his support, unwavering as you faced the night together.

Nodding slightly, you let go of his hand and stepped out of the car. Spencer walked beside you to the entrance of the church, close enough that you could feel his body heat. As you got closer, you groaned internally at the sight of your mother.

A fake smile stretched across her lips, nodding at a woman whose outfit was so brightly colored you nearly had to look away from the glare. Her smile dropped for a split second when she saw you, but quickly returned with twice the artificial sweetness as before. She called out your name, voice straining with the effort it took to sound happy to see you.

“This can’t be the boy you’ve been seeing! Much more handsome than I expected, how much did he cost you? Just kidding, of course.” Her laugh was somehow faker than her smile. You saw Spencer tense up beside you, and opened your mouth to correct her. She wouldn’t openly admit it, but you were sure your mother would be smug about the fact you and Spencer were just friends.

Before you could say anything, Spencer’s next words sent you reeling.

“Actually, I’m her boyfriend. Glad to finally meet you.” He said as politely as he could, though you could tell he disliked her already. Spencer had never had much patience for people who made jokes at others’ expense.

You were still processing what he’d just said when his arm wrapped around you, gripping your waist. The feeling of his hands on your body was almost too much for you, and you struggled to pay attention as your mother smiled and made smalltalk with Spencer that walked the line between passive aggressiveness and outright hostility.

You finally registered what was happening when your mother made some excuse to leave, off to emotionally torture a new victim. Your head whipped to face Spencer, your mouth hanging open, confusion written on your face.

“Why did you-” you began, interrupted by Spencer’s panicked words laced with regret.

“I’m so sorry, I know we didn’t plan on pretending to be a couple tonight, but she just seemed so smug about it and I wasn’t thinking clearly and I just-” he rushed out. Now it was your turn to cut him off.

“Spencer, thank you. I’m not mad, I promise.” You leaned into his chest, the arm still wrapped around you tightening. “I guess we’ll just have to pretend we’re dating for the rest of tonight, though.”

The two of you slowly made your way into the church, stopping a few times to chat with relatives who called out to you. Everyone was charmed by Spencer, who played the part of your boyfriend remarkably well. You found seats on the right, farthest from the aisle in an attempt to limit your interaction with other guests. Sitting down, you remembered how uncomfortable church pews were, the hours you’d spent in mass with your family all coming back to you now.

Looking around, however, you were reminded of what had gotten you through it. The stained glass windows that surrounded you created a kaleidoscope in your field of vision, capturing your attention for long enough to forget why you had been uncomfortable in the first place. You looked back at Spencer to find him already looking at you, sending a small blush to your cheeks.

“Did you know that stained glass was originally used in Catholic churches to tell stories from the Bible visually for the benefit of illiterate churchgoers? During the English Reformation, many stained glass windows were smashed and destroyed as part of the 1547 Injunctions against images. In fact, all images in churches were ordered to be removed. If it weren’t for that period in history, more stained glass would likely have- sorry, I’m doing it again.” Spencer’s eyes were cast down at the floor, only to shoot back up to your face when he felt your hand on his.

“I like listening to you. Why did they want to destroy all the images in churches?” You asked, leaving Spencer speechless for a second, seemingly unable to process your request for him to continue his rambling. With a small smile, he continued to explain the importance of the English Reformation to religious art as you watched him adoringly.

The ceremony started all too soon, pulling your attention to the front of the church. As you and Spencer listened to the seemingly endless stream of anecdotes about love and life that the pastor had clearly spent years reciting, your eyes started to glaze over. You pushed thoughts about marriage and family and religion out of your mind, preferring emptiness. Your mind didn’t stay blank for long, though.

Apparently Spencer had noticed your change in mood, because he brought his hand to rest on your thigh in a comforting gesture of solidarity. Unfortunately, you were unable to respond in any way, overwhelmed by the feeling of his hand flattened against the satin fabric of your dress. His thumb beginning to rub small circles into your skin, you felt your heart rate quicken. The warmth he brought to your thigh began to spread through your body, suddenly finding the church unbearably hot.

Spencer seemed unaffected by the room’s sudden warming, keeping his gaze locked on the happy couple. You took a shaky breath and tried to calm yourself down, reminding yourself that you were overreacting to what was likely a completely platonic display of affection. The ceremony seemed to drag on for hours, but that might have had something to do with the constant effort it took to mask the desire and panic that Spencer’s touch had ignited in you.

You were broken from your trance of concentration by the feeling of his hand inching higher on your leg. Whipping your head around to face him, his gaze remained fixed on the pastor, pressing his lips together to hide a smirk. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt Spencer’s hand slowly make its way up your thigh, paralyzed by shock and desperation. His grip tightened as he glanced at your face, reading your reaction to his touch. Before you had a chance to respond, it was withdrawn, the world around you coming back into focus as everyone began to clap. The ceremony was over.

When you went to stand up after the recessional, you nearly stumbled on your weak legs. Spencer stabilized you, guiding you through the pews and through the hallways with his hand on your lower back. As you followed the crowd to the banquet hall, the gears in your mind were turning slower than usual, as if they had rusted in the time you hadn’t allowed them to work through the idea of Spencer returning your feelings. Finding your seats, you and Spencer were faced with one of the greatest challenges of your night: extended conversation with your family and their similarly judgemental friends.

The overlapping chatter of so many people at once was clearly bothering Spencer, but he stuck it out for your sake. You felt a tug in your chest at the thought of the effort it must be taking for him to stay in such an uncomfortable situation. He played his part beautifully, though, responding to the borderline offensive questions directed at you politely but firmly, protecting you from their attacks. Your sister would usually have led the onslaught, but thankfully she was preoccupied yelling at the photographer for some suggestion she’d taken as a personal slight.

When Spencer struggled to answer questions about your “relationship”, you took over. He had never been a good liar, and while you loved that about him, you knew it could blow your cover if you allowed him to continue.

In your story, the two of you still worked at the BAU, having started dating a few months after you joined. You threw in small details from your countless daydreams, centering them around real events so that the tale was completely believable. Maybe too believable, you worried, feeling Spencer’s eyes on you as you talked. Under the protection of a lie, you had finally been free to speak the truth, pouring a year’s worth of pining and affection into your words as you concocted a love story you wished was real.

You heard a band start to play, a bluesy vocalist at the center of the ensemble. The music filled the hall as the newlyweds rose for their first dance. A small crowd gathered around the pair as they moved in synchrony, every step practiced and planned. A few songs later, many couples were swaying together, tonight’s celebration of love bringing out the romantic in most.

You turned to Spencer, nodding your head at the band. “We should probably dance for a song or two, just for appearance’s sake.” Spencer looked uncomfortable, but nodded and followed you closer to the source of the music.

Raising your hand to his shoulder while his landed on your hip, you felt a warmth spread through you as you joined hands. Fingers intertwining, you began to move along with the slow song that had been playing, stumbling at first but moving more smoothly as time went on. You had no idea how many songs passed while the two of you swayed, apprehension and desire swirling in the air between you. It took a second for you to notice it, but as soon as you did, Spencer’s small smile told you he had as well.

The smooth vocals of the singer sounded even more lovely on Etta James’s familiar melody, filling you with an intense emotion you couldn’t put words to.

I want a Sunday kind of love

A love to last past Saturday night

And I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight

And I want a Sunday kind of love

The feeling in your chest grew as you looked into Spencer’s eyes as the song continued, your chest threatening to burst with whatever magical dust you’d inhaled from the shared breath between your faces. Wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head on his shoulder, you were overcome with a feeling of safety and contentment as he returned your embrace. You swayed together as you began to ponder the cliches you’d always despised, begrudgingly admitting that you now understood the sentiment that nothing in the world mattered but the two of you.

As the song ended, you gathered up all the courage you had, and spoke before your mind could think through the possible negative outcomes of what you were suggesting.

“I need to tell you something,” you started. You felt his grip on you tighten, as if afraid what you would say next would take him from you, but he let you continue. “I think I love you, Spencer.”

He didn’t respond, but you felt him pull away from you. You felt cold without the contact, but it was nothing compared to the loss you felt in your chest as you realized what you’d done. He didn’t feel the same way.

You opened your mouth to apologize, to try to undo the damage you’d done, but before you could say anything he was dragging you toward a hallway. Overcome with confusion and fear of losing him, you didn’t realize where you were going until Spencer opened the door to the single-use bathroom and pulled you inside.

“Spence-” you began, the rest of whatever you had been about to say swallowed by Spencer’s lips as they moved against yours with urgency, his hands coming to cup your face gently. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, the coldness you’d felt replaced by the warmest light filling your chest.

Your hands found his hair, pulling him closer to you as you tried to eliminate any space left between your bodies. A frantic mess of hands and lips exploring any exposed skin, you stumbled backwards with the force of Spencer’s kiss, hearing the door lock as your back hit the cold wood. Your hands slipped under his suit jacket, moaning at the feeling of his firm body under your hands. He shrugged it off completely, allowing the jacket to fall on the floor, his germophobia trumped by his need to feel your warmth.

You moaned into his mouth as his hands wandered your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. As the kiss became more heated, you noticed that he seemed to withdraw whenever he noticed his touch had gotten rougher, clearly holding back so he wouldn’t hurt you. You smiled into the kiss at the care he showed for you, but your desire to see him fully let go was too strong to allow it to continue. You weren’t sure exactly what he was willing to do, but you took your second biggest risk of the night, showing him what you wanted.

Finding his hand on your body, you laced your fingers between his, kissing him sweetly before pulling away with an innocent look on your face. Spencer stared down at you, confusion clear on his face. You brought his hand up to your mouth, kissing the back of it before moving your hand to his wrist. He watched you intently, unsure what you were doing. Staring up at him with an angelic smile, you brought his hand to your neck, his fingers curling around it instinctively.

As he realized what you were asking of him, his eyes darkened and his grip around your neck tightened. “This is what you wanted, huh?” He spoke lowly, a small smirk forming on his lips. “So needy for me. Would’ve let me fuck you in front of all those people back there, practically shaking just from my hand on your thigh.”

You whimpered, turned on beyond belief by this new side of Spencer. His smirk widened at your reaction to his words, pressing his body against yours, his hardness pressing into you.

“Feel that? Feel what you do to me?” He growled. “Let me show you how I deal with pretty little whores like you.” He stepped away from you, eyes hungrily raking over your body as he began to unbuckle his belt. You just stood there, watching his hands as your mind flashed back to all the times you’d imagined this happening. Somehow this was even better than your wildest imagination had been able to conjure.

“What are you waiting for? Get on your knees” He spat out. The words shot straight to your core, and without hesitation you dropped to your knees in front of him. You watched as he pulled the belt from its loops, but frowned in confusion when he didn’t discard it. He walked around behind you, grabbing each of your wrists and pulling them together. Oh. When he was sure the belt wasn’t too tight, he whispered in your ear how pretty you looked tied up for him, your whimper at the words causing him to let out a dark chuckle.

He returned to the front of you, leaning down to toy with your bottom lip. “Show me you deserve to suck my cock, princess.” He instructed, slipping his thumb into your mouth. You moaned around his finger at that, and instinctively began sucking on the digit. You hollowed your cheeks around it, running your tongue along the length of his thumb before pulling back to swirl your tongue around the tip. He must have approved of your demonstration, because he removed his thumb, pulling down the clothing restricting him in one motion.

Your eyes widened at his size, his smirk growing when you leaned forward instinctively to take him into your mouth. When he grabbed your hair to stop you, you looked up at him in confusion.

“Good girls ask for permission.” Your eyes fluttered shut at that, wanting nothing more than to be good for him.

“Please, let me suck you off, I want you in my mouth,” you begged. He seemed pleased, his hand still in your hair pulling you forward. When your lips wrapped around his cock the hand on your head pushed you down roughly, making you take all of him into your mouth, the tip pressing hard against the back of your throat. You moaned through the gag, your panties likely soaked by now from your arousal at his dominance.

As he began to fuck your throat, you wrapped your lips around him tightly, timing your breaths so you wouldn’t have to stop for air. Words of praise mixed with degradation fell from his lips as he worked your mouth on him. Tears pricked at your eyes at the feeling of him against your throat, spilling over as he continued his ruthless pace.

When he pulled you off of him, a dark smile appeared on Spencer’s face at your disheveled state. He pulled you up so you were standing before him, hands still bound behind your back. He stepped back to admire you.

“Look at you, such a mess for me. What do you want, pretty girl?” He asked, voice still commanding but much softer now, genuinely checking in with you.

“I want you, please, need it so bad,” you practically moaned. He moved forward to meet your mouth with his, one hand coming to rest around your throat while the other gripped your hair, fully in control of your movements. He pulled your hair back, breaking the kiss as he tilted your head up to look him in the eyes.

“Jump.” He commanded. You didn’t hesitate, wrapping your legs around him as he walked you over to the sink, setting you down on the cold porcelain. His mouth rejoined with yours the second you felt the bowl of the sink digging into you. As Spencer’s hands roamed your body, he lost patience with your dress, pulling it down so your tits spilled out of the top. You moaned as he took one nipple into his mouth, a skilled hand toying with the other. His other hand lowered to the hem of your dress, pushing it up to gain full access to you.

Spencer moaned against your chest as he felt the dampness of your panties, soaked all the way through before he had even started to pleasure you. His fingers ran up and down over the wet fabric, applying pressure over your clit that sent your eyes rolling back. You made a noise of complaint at the loss of contact when he withdrew his hand, but were quickly silenced by a hand over your mouth.

“You’ll take what I give you, slut.” Spencer gritted out, tearing your panties off with the last word. His hand came up to your entrance, teasing you as his fingers ran up and down your slit. Gathering your wetness, he moved up to your clit, rubbing circles that left you moaning uncontrollably into his hand. “Can you snap for me, baby?” He asked. You were confused, but you did anyway. “Good girl. That’s your safeword for when you can’t talk.”

Before you could read too much into the statement, he plunged a finger deep into you, causing you to arch your back into him. Your moans still muffled by his hand, he set a brutal pace, adding another finger when he felt you start to clench around him. Tightening his hand over your mouth and nose, he cut off your breath as you approached your peak, your eyes glazing over with pleasure. The high of the lack of oxygen along with the haze that came with this level of submission left you fully pliant, his to play with how he wanted.

Right as your lungs began to burn, your orgasm shook your body, and Spencer let go at that exact moment. The relief of oxygen once again flooding your lungs added on to the euphoria that overtook you, your body shaking as you came down from your high.

You didn’t have much time to recover, as you were brought back to reality with the sensation of the tip of Spencer’s cock teasing your slit. The overstimulation shook you, but with every second your need to feel him inside of you grew stronger. Your whimpers turned into pleas, and in your desperate state you didn’t realize what you were saying until it was too late.

“What was that?” Spencer asked, withdrawing completely.

“I-I’m sorry, it was an accident, I didn’t mean to, I’ll never-” you were interrupted by an unexpected demand.

“Say it again.”

“What?”

“Say. It. Again.” Spencer gritted out, his eyes darkening with each word.

“Please fuck me, daddy.” You said shakily.

A look of satisfaction came over Spencer’s face as he slammed into you without warning, setting a rough pace. You began to chant his new title, and his hand came up to choke you, fingers pressing into your carotid arteries just beneath your jaw. He wasn’t putting any pressure on your windpipe, but your lightheadedness from the reduced blood flow made it feel harder to breathe, the feeling of being owned by the man you loved only intensifying your pleasure.

Spencer towered over you as he continued his assault, his other hand coming up to muffle your moans by allowing you to suck on his fingers. When he withdrew them to pay attention to your body elsewhere, he was confused to see you stick out your tongue. When the wave of understanding washed over him, he couldn’t hold back his smile. Bringing his hand up to trace your cheek, he looked at you lovingly before spitting in your mouth, watching in awe as you eagerly swallowed and met him with an innocent smile that contrasted beautifully with your actions.

As you began to feel the knot in your stomach building again, Spencer increased his pace. Bringing one of his fingers to your clit, Spencer knew you were nearing the edge, and fast. “Come for me, pretty girl.” He ordered.

You obliged, Spencer’s kiss swallowing the moans spilling from your mouth. He followed soon after, sent into ecstasy by the image and sensation of you coming apart under him. As he filled you up, you felt a bliss that you’d never experienced before, using your lips to show him how he’d affected you as he fucked you through both of your orgasms. When you eventually parted, it was quiet for a moment.

As Spencer helped you off the sink and removed the belt from your wrists, massaging the tender skin, you began to laugh. It started out as a small giggle, but it soon turned into a full belly laugh, bringing tears to your eyes. Spencer was taken aback at first, but son couldn’t help but join you. You both laughed until your stomachs hurt, and when you could finally speak again your first words were “we just had sex in a church bathroom.”

Holding back another bout of laughter, Spencer responded, “I have to say, this wasn’t how I imagined tonight going.” He took a step towards you, arms lacing around your waist. “I’m not complaining, though.”

You pulled him down to meet him in a kiss, your teeth clacking as neither of you could hold back your smiles. When you broke apart, Spencer’s forehead stayed pressed against yours. “I love you,” he said quietly, “I have for a long time now. I just never thought you would feel the same way.”

You couldn’t hold back the happy tears that formed in the corners of your eyes. Wordlessly, you pulled him into a hug, your bodies coming together like two pieces of a puzzle that had finally been connected. You stayed there for a while, just feeling each other breathe.

In a few minutes, you’d sneak out the back door of the church. In a few minutes, you’d leave the room with no need for lies to excuse your shared affection. In a few minutes, you’d have to deal with the paperwork that Hotch would inevitably require. But for these last few minutes, all you had to do was hold each other. For now, you were just two people in love, and that was enough.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

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doublekrecs · 4 years

Text

Going Live

Spencer Reid x Reader

Synopsis: You're an intern for the FBI but double as a camgirl in your spare time. You thought you kept things pretty well under wraps but who knew one of your mentors watched you all along.

Warnings: smut, unprotected p in v action (remember to wrap it), face fucking, use of sex toys, tiny bit of degrading

a/n: writing this in the setting of season 10/11 because spencer looks so damn good and i wanted to include my girl tara

also part 2 of more than physics should be up later today! hope you enjoy -🧞‍♀️

You had been a paid intern for the FBI for about a year, paid being said lightly. But the job was definitely worth it. While being under the wing of the BAU you had not only learned so much about your hopefully future profession, but you had made a family with the team. Especially under the wing of Tara Lewis, she had been there for a little while but you looked up to her work and she was more than happy to offer advice and a good wine night.

The team knew you had a second job on the side but weren’t exactly sure what it was, just that you worked from home. They respected your personal life enough to stay out of it, however that didn’t stop Rossi from offering you a little extra because “that's what uncles are supposed to do”. You would always wave him off and say you could handle yourself, because you could.

You thoroughly enjoyed working. The money and gifts were obviously a big reward but there was always something so exciting about being on camera. Maybe it was how risque it was, being exposed for thousands to see. Or the fact that many were pleasuring themselves to the sight of you.

It was Friday night and you were getting your setup ready. You already had your outfit and glam on. Someone had sent you a set from your wishlist, lilac lace hugged your body in all the right places, accentuating all your assets and boosting your confidence. In your hair were the same color streaks you did with a tinting spray. You set the camera and laptop up in front of your bed. Silk sheets and plush pillows behind you where you could rest comfortably before your show started.

Little did you know across town Spencer Reid was getting ready to tune in to said show. He was never one for tech, having Garcia still hand him paper files and would refuse to upgrade his phone. He had gotten a computer just so he could video chat with doctors quickly about new medicine for his mother. However he quickly found out there was so much more the internet had to offer.

He had stumbled across your show one lonely night. Spencer couldn’t see himself going out to find a one night stand so the pleasure of his hand it was. He was looking through videos when he saw the thumbnail with a girl wearing glasses similar to the ones you wear when you forget contacts. His curiosity got the best of him and if he was a cat he’d be one life down. He couldn’t believe the sight on the screen in his lap.

There you were the bubbly intern, body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you from the pink wand you held over your clit. He was delightfully flustered and the moans spilling from the computer’s speakers weren’t doing much to help.

He was entranced by you writhing in pleasure but was knocked back into reality after hearing you giggle. God he loved when you made that noise in the office, usually after fake flirting with Hotch or hearing about JJ’s boys. But this situation was totally different and if he was honest with himself he was very into it.

You reached over to grab a large pink dildo. Taking it in your mouth before swiping it through your folds. It easily slipped in and you started rapidly pumping it into you chasing your orgasm.

Spencer was too enthralled to even think about touching himself. He was using the gift which was his eidetic memory to the best of his ability to make this something he’d never forget.

You came with a loud moan, hips lifting and grinding against the toy to chase the friction. Quickly you turned off the wand and took the toy out. You sat up and looked into the camera before sucking it off. Spencer's eyes widened as he let out a groan shifting on his bed.

“Alright guys that was fun for tonight,” you said as you sat criss cross on the bed. “I didn’t think I’d be able to get to five.”

FIVE?? He thought in his head. He felt like he was gonna explode just watching those last few minutes. How was he supposed to last watching you make yourself cum five times.

“Thank you so much for all the tips and support! My links are all in the description and I’ll see you angels next Friday! Muahh” you signed off blowing the camera a kiss.

Spencer knew it was wrong of him to view a coworker in such an exposed light but he couldn’t help himself. So he spent the night viewing some of your old videos which brought him to what he swears to be the best orgasm of his life. Of course he sent gracious tips and made sure to buy little items off the wishlist, mentally noting to return every Friday night. Even if it meant hiding in the bathroom from Morgan in their shared hotel room on cases. That was two months ago.

Just as you finished your session the phone rang signaling a case. Quickly you got in the shower and put on comfy business clothes since you usually stayed with Garcia doing extra research and taking notes. You quickly grabbed your bag and keys, making your way straight to the office.

In the elevator you heard someone calling to keep it open. Spencer made his way in, buttoning his cardigan and adjusting his bag, quickly saying thank you. You pressed the button to the floor as you felt a pair of eyes on you. Looking over Spencer was eyeing you with a confused look on his face. You were about to question him when he spoke up first.

“I thought you had streaks in your hair”

“I did… Earlier tonight but they washed out.” He looked even more confused, then his brain put two and two together. He just realized what he had said. For a genius this wasn’t one of his brightest moments.

You looked at him amused as a deep blush spread from his neck to the tips of his ears. There was only one way someone would know about your quick hair change: by watching your show. The door to the elevator opened and you walked out giggling as he started sputtering apologies behind you. You quickly cut him off.

“Spence, it's alright. If you want we can talk about this later because right now you have a bad guy to catch. But may I suggest making your name something less obvious, not that I don’t love ‘magiclover187’.” He stood there mouth gaping as you patted his shoulder and walked up to the conference room to meet the rest of the team.

The case was one of the easier ones. Very minimal killing and the team was back by Tuesday morning, ready for a week of paperwork. Spencer had been dancing around you the whole time, he could barely keep eye contact with you and would rush to leave the room if you walked in. If he was this flushed around you with clothes on you could just imagine how much of a mess he would be when he watched you perform. Which brought an idea to your head.

Friday rolled around and you walked over to his desk where he was nose deep in one of his Russian books. You put your hand in it to bring it down. Once he noticed it was you he was about to start with another ramble of apologies when you stopped him.

“Alright I’m tired of the awkwardness and I want my friend back,” you said with a soft smile. “Why don’t you come over tonight and we can have that talk. I’ll even order a pizza and we can watch Doctor Who.”

“Y/n are you sure? I-I mean it is um uh Friday.. And ya know you usually film,” he said as he played with his tie.

You giggled at how nervous he was. Poor little genius didn’t know he was the only one with tricks up their sleeve.

“It’s fine I promise. Just a night with my favorite customer,” you said winking at him. He choked and looked around to see if anyone was looking at his outburst.

“I’m kidding.. Sort of,” you trailed off. “But I mean it about you coming over. I’m going home now but I expect you there in an hour with drinks.”

With that you turned around and walked off, adding a little extra sway to your hips. Obviously that did the trick as you heard a small groan behind you. Spencer dropped his head back as he started wracking his brain to figure out how to live through the night without making a bigger fool of himself or cuming in his pants.

You know maybe you were evil, you thought to yourself as you put on the finishing touches to your outfit for the night. Once you got home you sped into the shower to freshen up for him to come over and get your setup ready. You were wearing a cream colored strappy bodysuit. Over it was a large cardigan, almost resembling the maroon one he owned, strange. To top it off you were wearing your glasses and your legs were adorned with your favorite thigh high socks.

The three knocks on the door instantly made a smirk appear on your face. This might just be one of your best schemes yet. Looking through the peephole you saw Spencer gnawing on his bottom lip holding a few bottles of soda. Taking a deep breath you opened the door greeting him with all the casualty in the world.

“Hey! I’m glad you came, come in.”

He followed you in and tried to keep his eyes above your neck, trying to act like he wasn’t getting completely hard by just your outfit. You sat down on your couch and patted it for him to sit next to you. He took the seat and gulped not really sure what you had planned.

“Um how long for the pizza to get here?”

“The pizza’s not coming Spence,” you said shaking your head. “But you are.”

You leaned forward to place your hand on his on the couch. “I want you to fuck me on camera Spencer,” you said with sweet confidence, fluttering your lashes. His eyes kept flashing between your cleavage showing through the cardigan and your lips before finally landing on your eyes. He didn’t see a single hint of humor in them, nothing transparent but lust.

He pulled his hand from under yours to place in your hair, pulling you into a heated kiss. You pushed back on his chest a bit to try and get some air.

“Save that magic for the show,” you said as you pulled him up to lead to your bedroom.

The camera was set at a little bit of a lower angle. The audience would just be able to see you and at most Spencer’s chest. You had made sure it was fine and even turned it on as a test so he could see what he looked like. After you got everything out of the way you hit the button to go live and instantly people started flooding in. If the bulge in his pants told you anything, it was that he was excited to be on the other side of the screen this time.

“Hello my angels!” you said into the camera, Spencer was taken back at what was going on. After months of lusting over the young intern he was finally seeing the show in person.

“Today I have a special guest with me. My very good friend, the Doctor,” you took his hand to pull him into frame. “He’s very excited to be here,” you said, hand moving down to palm him through his pants.

His hand reached out and wrapped around your throat, making you look up at him. Huh. This was a new Spencer you wouldn’t mind seeing more often.

“Let's not play games princess. Or else the only thing making you cum tonight are your pathetic little fingers. Am I clear?”

You shivered at the intensity of his voice instantly trying to nod the best you could within his grip. He let go and you went back to task at hand, undoing his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers. He was long and pink. Precum already spilling out of the pretty tip, you couldn’t wait to have him in your mouth, among other places. You wasted no time in licking a broad stripe along a vein under it. His hand went to grab a handful of your hair giving it a testing tug as a warning to stop teasing.

Your hand went to grip what couldn’t fit in your mouth but you tried your best to take him all in. You could hear the pings of tips and comments being said. Spencer could too and leaned over slightly to read them.

“Face fuck her,” he murmured. He pulled you off of his cock and looked down into your eyes, “Is that what you want princess? Hm.” His thumb went to clean up the spit dripping down your chin before rubbing your lips. “You want me to fuck your face?”, he said in a condescendingly sweet voice.

“Yes Doctor please! Fuck my throat.”

“Good girl.”

Both his hands made their place nested in your hair, guiding you to his cock. He wasted no time in being brutal. Tears were leaking down your cheeks as he kept on hitting the back of your throat. Spencer was enjoying himself to the fullest letting out curses and praises at how good your mouth felt. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer and you could feel it too as he started to throb in your mouth. He then pulled you off, a trail of spit connected from your lips and his cock.

“Such a dirty whore for me. Show everyone how messy I make you,” he took your head and made you turn to look in the camera. Comments pinged talking about how pretty you looked with mascara running and smudged lipstick.

“Thank them and ask if you deserve to cum on my cock,” Who knew Spencer had this in him. But you were loving every second of it and put on your best pair of puppy dog eyes to beg the camera for Spencer to split you in half. And you had no shame in doing so.

“Please let the Doctor fuck me. I’ve been such a good girl for you guys,” you pleaded into the camera. The audience was pleased with your begging as they said you deserved it for being so good.

Spencer took his time in unbuttoning the cardigan you had on, teasingly rubbing your arms as he slipped it off. His hands then went to the bodice of it, groping your breasts and teasing your nipples through the fabric.

“Ah shit doctor, please fuck me already.”

Who was he to deny you of such a thing when you asked so nicely. He pushed you back down on the silk sheets. Pulling you by your thighs to the end of the bed where he moved the thong of the bodysuit to the side and slid his cock up your folds. Lubricating it in your juices before slipping right in. You both gasped at the intrusion, his hands grabbing your hips with a force sure to leave bruises. He used the leverage to set a brutal pace, ramming his cock into you.

Your ears were ringing from the pleasure but you could hear the constant pings of your tip box and comment section flooding.

“Shit baby you’re so tight. Perfect little pussy squeezing me so good.” You babled off thank yous and whimpers from being so close to your climax.

You felt Spencer stop for a second and reach over to grab something. Then you felt it. Your wand set to the highest setting placed on your clit as he started to thrust into you again. Sounds of your moans and skin slapping together filled the room along with the buzzing of the vibrator. You were sure there was going to be a noise complaint notice on your door in the morning.

You were so close to having the bubble in your stomach burst and so was he.

“I'm gonna cum Doctor,” you practically yelled. “Please cum inside me!”

“Cmon princess. Let me feel you let go.”

With that the knot broke and you swore you died and went to heaven. Your walls squeezing Spencer led him to his end a little after you. Thrusts faltering and groaning at the feeling of pleasure washing over him. He turned off the wand and put it to the side before slipping out of you.

Looking into the camera you gasped at your appearance. Hair disheveled and face messy from crying in pleasure multiple times that night. Your mixed release leaking down your thigh and onto the sheets.

There were non stop pings of people calling Spencer a lucky bastard and asking for him to come back next Friday. Spencer nodded his head over to your bathroom to get you guys something to clean up with and let you do your closing.

“Thanks for the love tonight angels,” you said with a smile on your face, entirely blissed out. “As always the links are in the description and I’ll see you guys next Friday. Maybe I’ll talk to the Doctor about future appearances. Bye!”

With that you fell back on your bed and closed your eyes. Your body jolted at a sudden coldness between your thighs.

“Right sorry,” Spencer whispered.

“So where did that come from?” you looked at him with an eyebrow raised.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he stated seriously.

You giggled and took his hand, “Thanks for doing this with me.”

“Of course. Now why don’t you shower while I get us a pizza. For real this time.”

“Or we can shower together then call the pizza.”

He contemplated it before smiling at you, “You always have the best ideas.”

“Don’t I know it.. Doctor.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #mgg x reader #mgg smut #mgg fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds blurb #🧞‍♀️writes

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just-here-for-the-moment · 3 years

Note

For the DIFFERENT POV GAME:

I want Javi’s POV on this whole adorable scene.

Okay, my Queen @quica-quica-quica, I want you to know that I suuuuucked in a huge breath when I saw this Ask, because I was entirely unsure if I could do this. It seemed like a really hard challenge, but FOR YOU I’ll try anything.

I dug in to see what I could do, and of course because I can’t just write succinctly I had to start waaaaaay back in the beginning of the story to get Javier where I needed him for the phone number scene… hope that’s okay!!

Thank you for challenging me this way! This went from scary to amazing in just a few days! I love you so much, my friend!!!

---

Coffee Shop Girl (a companion piece to “For Now” told from Javier’s point of view)

Word count: 3000+

Rating: mature, 18+ only

Outline: Javier Peña x “You” (Austin coffee shop barista; cis/het female reader; “blank canvas”/no physical description/no name/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: slow-burn; references to previous hiring of sex workers; cigarette smoking; Javier masturbating

Javier Peña felt like he was at loose ends. Not for the first time in his life, but it’s different feeling ‘lost’ as a young man than feeling ‘lost’ when you’re on the wrong side of 40. At least a teenager can still expect their whole life ahead of them. Since leaving the DEA and the fight in Colombia behind, he had been feeling directionless.

Spending some time at his dad’s ranch in Laredo had helped, the way that hard labor and sweat always does. It left him too tired to ruminate, to sink into the blues and feel sorry for himself. He had lined up a teaching job at a university in D.C. but it didn’t start until the fall semester, and Javier wasn’t looking forward to an entire blazing-hot summer on the ranch. So when his friend Bill called from Austin and offered a short contract job doing consulting for one of the state agencies, he jumped at the chance.

Javier landed at Mueller Airport at 2:00 in the afternoon on the second Saturday in June. He made his way out of luggage pickup to the Hertz desk and signed for a rental car. It didn’t take him long to find the apartment complex where Bill had arranged for him to stay. Bill’s coworker’s son had graduated from UT Austin in May, and the lease wasn’t up until August, so everything worked out perfectly. Javi could sublet for the remainder of the summer, and the apartment complex was close enough to the office that he could take the bus, meaning he wouldn’t have to put too many miles on the rental car or pay for parking downtown. A small, blandly furnished one-bedroom apartment near work was perfect. He could make it work for two months, and he had certainly lived in much worse places during his years traveling.

On Monday Javier was introduced around the office and given his portfolio of cases to consult on. He also found out that the coffee in the office was total shit. He had spent too many years drinking government-grade slop at the DEA and other agencies to put up with it now. He wasn’t one to complain, or to order any of the frilly new designer coffee drinks that seemed to be making the rounds among the ladies in the secretarial pool, but he had noticed a coffee shop between here and the bus stop. Some local place, one of those Austin things where they boasted about fair trade and locally roasted beans. If they made a decent cup of black coffee he could splurge, buy a cup on his way into the office each day.

The bus dropped him off at the corner at 7:45, so he could grab a coffee and still be on time to work at 8:00. Punctuality wasn’t always his strong suit, but Javier wanted to at least make a good impression while he was consulting. You never knew who might be a network contact to something good, and he didn’t want to screw Bill over after he had recommended him for the contract.

Tuesday Javier tried the coffee shop and found out that their coffee was not only decent for the price, it was actually good. Wednesday he went back again, this time brushing fingers with the pretty barista by accident. He offered her a “thanks” and then went on his way. Thursday he walked in and stood patiently in line behind two stoner kids trying to make up their minds between breakfast tacos and blueberry muffins. The pretty barista was there again, and she waved him over with a smile, indicating he could skip to the counter and leave the hippie kids in line.

“Black coffee, right?” Her smile actually reached her eyes, and for a moment Javier was very glad for all of the body language and psychology classes he had ever had to sit through. It was nice having a pretty lady smile at you to start your morning, and even better that this one already knew his order. She was quick, he figured, and good at her job if she had his order memorized after only two days as a customer. Not that ‘black coffee, to go’ was a difficult order, but he hadn’t expected to become a regular so quickly.

He smiled and nodded, “That’s right. Thank you.” He looked for a wedding ring and then for a nametag on her black apron, but didn’t see either one. He slid a rumpled $5 bill across the counter, larger than the singles he had paid with the previous two days, but she was nice. “Keep the change.”

He thought he saw her bite her lip as she turned away, and while she was fixing his cup he took a moment to check her out. He wasn’t some kind of pervert who would goose her from over the counter, but from what he could see she was attractive. Hell, most women were attractive to Javier. He suddenly realized it had been a while since he’d gotten laid. His last relationship was years past, and he no longer visited prostitutes regularly. Javier wasn’t a ‘reformed man’ by any means, it was just that that habit had been limited to a specific time and place in his life where he wasn’t stable enough to have a long-term relationship, and it had the added bonus of gathering intelligence.

The barista turned back to him with the cup and when she handed it off their eyes locked and their fingers touched again. He saw her pupils dilate and recognized the little spark that turned over in his own gut. Damn, she really was attractive. But Javier didn’t want to be the kind of lecherous guy who hit on a woman while she was working. Too many men mistook the minimum of customer service friendliness for a sexual invitation. Or worse, like the men who hit on waitresses on purpose since they couldn’t be outright rude to stop them. Javier suppressed a smile and took the cup from her, nodding his thanks.

On Friday when he breezed into the coffee shop he saw the pretty barista smile from behind the counter, and she immediately turned and started pouring his to-go cup. She turned back and gave him the ‘what’s up’ chin nod while holding his cup up. Javier walked up and he slid a few singles across the counter to her.

Javier gave her a warm, “Thanks,” and winked at her. That was at least a harmless bit of flirting, in line with her bright smiles and her friendliness so far. If she liked it, great; and if not, then at least he hadn’t made her uncomfortable by asking for her number or hitting on her directly. When he said, “See you next week,” she smiled that bright smile back. Javier noticed that it again reached her eyes, lighting them up just a bit more than last time. A good sign.

The weekend dragged but Javier filled it up with errands: a run to HEB for groceries and to Highland Mall for a new shirt. If there was the possibility of a date sometime in the next few weeks he at least wanted to wear something other than his work clothes. Saturday night he ordered pizza and watched a movie on TV, some lame action movie with giant muscled guys shooting way too many bullets, and of course all the curse words and a sex scene edited out for network TV. Can’t let the kiddies hear the word ‘shit’ while they’re flipping channels, but watching Stallone blow a guy’s head off is good for their growing brains. He finished his pizza and a cigarette and then felt that tug, the loose ends, a little bored.

Javier took a shower and his mind went to the pretty barista, that smile, the sparkly eyes. He thought about those eyes looking up at him through her lashes, or down at him from on top. He wondered what her skin felt like, imagining the rest of her naked, spread out, touching him all over. He felt a little bit creepy touching himself to the thought of her, hoping it didn’t make him a bad person, hoping he would see her again on Monday. But fuck it, he needed the release. Javier came, spurting hot in the steamy shower as he leaned his head on his forearm and groaned into the cold tile wall. He wished he at least knew her name.

Sunday Javier slept in and then did laundry, tidied up the apartment, and took a jog around the neighborhood. He tried to talk himself out of a repeat of Saturday’s shower. It didn’t work.

On Monday Javier lit up as soon as he stepped off the bus. The first week of the consulting gig had gone well, but today was a big meeting and he knew the agency was not going to like his recommendations. He was constantly trying to quit, but at least he had cut back recently. He was down to a pack a day and only one cup of coffee. That had to count for something, right? Maybe his doctor would finally get off his back about that.

He smoked as rapidly as he could on his way to the coffee shop, and stubbed the cigarette out as soon as he reached the big window that overlooked the street corner. He tucked his sunglasses into the top pocket of his blazer and opened the door to the coffee shop.

The pretty barista was smiling, looking right at him and already holding up his cup of coffee like a game show model holding a prize. Javier felt his heart give a little squeeze, and he smiled and winked at her again as he approached the counter.

“You psychic or something? Or am I just that predictable?”

“Both, maybe.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him and gave him a toothy grin.

Javier opened his wallet and saw that his smallest bill was a $10, but he decided not to ask for change back. She was attentive to her customers, she had surprised him by having coffee ready, and she was cute. “Great service, keep the change.”

Her face lit up and she turned to put the money in the register. Javier turned and exited the front door, and then decided to look back through the big plate glass window. She was looking at him, and Javier realized that meant that she had watched him leave. He hoped he wouldn’t have to tip $10 every time to get that look. He lifted his cup, nodded at her, and then made his way to the office.

Tuesday she had his coffee ready again, so he gave her another wink with his smile, and he thought that she purposely put her fingers in a spot to touch his as she handed the cup over. He paid with a $5 bill again, and then thought about her smile and her touch all the way to the office a few blocks north. He didn’t want her to think that the overtipping was him trying to come on to her; it really was nice to have his order ready to go every day.

On Wednesday she had his coffee ready again as soon as he walked in, but Javier supposed that was a testament to the bus schedule more than his own punctuality. This time he paid with singles. But he didn’t want her to think the smaller tip was because of anything wrong with her customer service, so he smiled a little more warmly, turning the charm up as much as he dared without just outright hitting on her. He noticed she was looking again through the glass as he left. But of course the only reason he knew that was because he had looked, too.

On Thursday Javier decided that it wouldn’t hurt to flirt a little more obviously, but to give her an out in case she wasn’t interested. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable or fuck up his supply of good coffee, so he decided to take it a little slow. When he got to the corner he glanced into the window of the coffee shop and saw the pretty barista looking right at him. He took that as a good sign that she might be receptive to his flirting. He opened the door and let someone exit, then walked up to the counter. She pointed at his cup sitting on the counter in front of her, smiling that bright smile.

He arched an eyebrow up. “You trying to get rid of me? In and out so quickly?”

She grinned at him. “Depends on how long you were planning to stay. We close at 1:00 a.m. after open mic tonight. After that you gotta go somewhere else.” That was the most that she’d spoken to him yet. Javier decided to take his chance.

“And what time do you get off, after the morning shift?”

“Depends on who’s asking.” She winked and then bit the inside of her lips, like she had said something she shouldn’t have.

Javier decided to be direct. At least that would give her the chance to say ‘no’ if she wasn’t interested. He locked eyes with her and said, “I am.”

He was relieved to see her flash that big smile, all pretty soft lips and sparkly eyes. “I finish at 1:00, after the lunch rush.”

“Good to know.” He stuck his hand out to shake. “I’m Javier, by the way.” She continued to smile as she gave him her name. When she took his hand she gave a good firm shake, not like one of those women who went limp as soon as they shook a man’s hand. Javier liked her even more.

He fished a few bills out of his wallet. “Can I maybe stop by after your shift, take you to lunch sometime?”

“You can do me one better than that.” She reached down to grip the lid and spun the cup. He saw her name and seven digits scribbled in Sharpie. “My phone number’s on the cup.”

Javier gave her the eyebrows, very much enjoying how direct she was. It was nice to get a clear signal from a pretty lady, instead of having to play guessing games and worry about overstepping. He pursed his lips and nodded in approval.

“You do that for all your customers?”

“Just the best tippers.” And there was her pretty smile and her wink again, so soon after the first one.

Javier decided to give her both barrels. He put his hand out again, palm up instead of a handshake. When she put her hand in his he lifted her knuckles to his lips and pressed a soft kiss, giving her a look from under his eyelashes before he let go.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Javier picked up the cup and left, and gave her a warm smile through the glass as he walked away. As soon as he got to the office he jotted her name and the number on a scrap of paper and tucked it into his wallet. He felt hopeful in a way that he hadn’t for a long time, and he rolled the cup endlessly between his palms while he considered his options. Options. Something he sometimes had taken for granted in life, until those moments where they suddenly ran out.

Javier drained the last of the coffee and then scribbled over her number with a Sharpie before tossing the cup in the trash. No sense in letting her number out into the world where some creep might find it. He smoked his third cigarette of the day out on the plaza and thought about her smile, the brush of her fingers on his, the way she approached him directly. He could use a friend in town, one who wasn’t a guy at the agency or an old college buddy. One who was soft and sweet and might be open to a date… or more. He checked his watch and calculated the hours until 1:00 p.m.

Normally he wouldn’t go back to the coffee shop until tomorrow morning, but it wouldn’t hurt to pop back over there today at the end of her shift, see if she wanted to grab lunch, right? He hoped it wouldn’t scare her off, going back so quickly. He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray by the lobby door and jogged back up to his office, taking the stairs two at a time. He wanted to finish up, get this meeting over with, see if he could get over to the coffee shop before she left. He sat in the meeting, watching the clock hands spin slowly, listening to someone drone on about a budget issue that didn’t impact his work, and which could have been a memo in the first place. He felt his irritation creep up the longer the meeting went on.

Finally the meeting closed and Javier hopped to his feet. He told Bill he was headed to lunch and then jogged back down the stairwell instead of waiting for the elevator. He walked the few blocks to the coffee shop, keeping an eye on his watch. He hoped he wouldn’t miss her.

When he got to the coffee shop he opened the door and let his eyes adjust to the dim light for a moment. And then he saw her, slinging her bag over one shoulder and coming out from behind the counter. Javier smiled.

She stopped a foot away and smiled softly, “Hey.”

Javier realized he was still wearing his sunglasses, no wonder it was so dark. He took them off and slipped them into his blazer pocket. He really hoped she wouldn’t think it was weird, him coming back so soon.

“Hey, I’m glad I caught you. Are you busy, or can I take you to lunch today?”

Her face lit up. Good sign. “No, I’m not busy. I’d love to go.”

She gestured out the big window, “There’s a sandwich place around the corner, and a park we can go sit in.”

Javier felt his face split into a wide grin. “That’s perfect.”

---

Just-here-for-the-moment’s masterlist

The only tag list I have: @quica-quica-quica @anaaaispunk @justanotherblonde23 @gracie7209 @nicolethered @honestly-shite @driedgreentomatoes @dihra-vesa @1800-fight-me @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @kesskirata @honeymandos @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @anxiousandboujee @cevvie @sherala007 @writeforfandoms @libellule2001 @deadhumourist @mandoalorian @javierpinme @eri16 @mandocrasis

#pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #javier peña x you #javier pena x you #narcos fic #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #pedrostories #pedro stories

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dreamywriterinthedark · 3 years

Text

Recess sobs and bedtime resolutions

Pairing: fem!Reader x Spencer

Request: Ok so the reader is a psychologist and is married to spencer and they have a 5 year old daughter who gets in trouble for punching a kid because they picked on her because they didn't beleive her dad was in the fbi If that makes sense any who if you don't write this i get it I just want to see speancers reaction

Trigger warnings: bullying, physical violence. (let me know if i forgot something)

Category: fluff, slight angst.

A/N: thank you so much for this request! I hope you like it. The daughter sounds a bit older than 5, in my head she’s in the early stages of elementary school. Let me know what you think about it! I’d be glad to receive some feedback. (Btw I hurt my own feelings writing this, you can’t even imagine...)

You were in your office, a typical Tuesday afternoon until you heard your office phone ring once more. You held up your finger to make your client pause what they were saying, you picked up the phone only to hang up.

“I apologise for the inconvenience. Now where were we ?” you said trying to get your client comfortable again despite the ringing. As she was about to speak up again, your cellphone rang, Spencer’s name lit up your screen and that’s when you were starting to get concerned.

“I’m so sorry I have to get that.” You said exiting the office to take the call. You were happy to hear your significant other’s voice nonetheless you knew he wouldn’t normally call you during working hours.

“Hi darling, is everything okay ?”

“No, not really. The school called, there’s an emergency.” he responded wrapping his scarf around his neck as he was making his way to the elevator.

“What happened ?” you asked getting more and more worried.

“She punched a classmate in the face. Can you believe it ?!” he pressed the button 0 waving goodbye to his coworkers.

“What ? Our daughter? Jane ? Are you sure it’s not her evil twin ?”

“Eviler twin you mean ? No offense, Y/n, but if she had one, I’m pretty sure you would remember…”

“Alright, I’ll tell my secretary to cancel all my appointments for the day. I’ll meet you there.”

“Love you, bye.”

“Love you too.” You answered before hanging up. You made it a little bit of a rule to yourself to never say ‘goodbye’ to him because you thought that if you did it may increase the chances of you never seeing him again. You knew it was a bit silly but with all those times he was close to death, you’d believe in any superstition if that meant he would get home safe.

After taking care of your client and letting your secretary handle the rest, you hurried out of your office to drive to your daughter’s elementary school.

You pushed the interphone button, once you were allowed entrance you walked to the principal’s office. You softly knocked, when the door opened it showed Spencer sitting in a chair right across the desk, next to it was an empty chair meant for you.

“I’m sorry, I came as I soon as I could.” you apologized.

“Well, I assume you’re Jane’s mother. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Principal Walker.” he greeted shaking your hand. As you sat down, Spencer gave you his best polite white smile.

“Do you know what you’re here for ?” he inquired.

“You said our daughter was involved in a conflict with a student...” you answered.

“Your daughter punched a student in the face.” He said bluntly.

“Right…”

“Are you sure it’s Jane ?” Spencer asked still struggling to believe it.

“Wait until you see her knuckles...”

Spencer put his face in his hands in defeat, you rubbed his shoulder to bring him comfort.

“What happened exactly ?” you asked.

“Well, it was during the 10AM break. Jane went out to play with her classmates when a boy started arguing with her. Next thing we hear is a scream, the boy is on the floor crying.”

You and Spencer both looked at each other with an immense look of stupor.

“The boy, did he bully her ?” Spencer asked trying to find some innocence in the sweet child of his.

“Not that we know of.” answered the principal.

“Is he okay though ?” you questioned.

“Yes, just a minor injury. He went back home.”

You nodded, “So what happens next ?”

“We are giving her a warning but the next time something like this happens there will be harsher consequences than a simple punishment. Understood ?”

“Yes. we understand. Thank you for your time, sir.” you said as you rose up from your chair. Spencer and you both exited the room finding your daughter in the waiting lounge looking guilty as ever. You saw Spencer’s face look puzzled and hostile. To torture your daughter with even more guilt you told her to ride back home with her dad which she did not love but couldn’t protest.

Spencer hardly spoke to Jane the entire drive. He was dry, so much it looked like he ignored her. Jane was desperate to get him to talk to her.

“Please, dad. Don’t be mad at me!” she exclaimed.

“I’m not mad, I’m disappointed.” those words he pronounced cut like a knife. You knew that by seeing her dad’s reaction she would become aware of the gravity of her actions. And he actually wasn’t mad, at least not until he saw her pouting face. He loved her too much to be angry.

“Okay but can you just talk to me!” she whined.

“Oh we will, back home with your mom.”

That car ride lasted longer for Jane than usual. No music, no anecdotes nor laughs, just plain silence and introspection while gazing at the landscape.

Your house was in the suburbs near a forest, Spencer had all sorts of scientific arguments as to why living near nature was beneficial but you just loved the paysage before your eyes when taking your morning coffee. The location was perfect; in nature which means less pollution, noise and lower criminal rates yet a short car ride from the city which was full of cultural spots and with high quality education.

Jane tried to run up the stairs in hope to avoid her parents’ correction but was interrupted by your strict toned voice; “Not so fast, young lady.”

She shut her eyes stopping dead in her tracks, she lifted her stuffed animal and said to it “It was nice knowing you, fluffy.” She then turned around and sat on the couch.

Spencer was pacing around, “Why did you do it ?” He asked his daughter his voice slightly higher than before. She started melting in tears which truly pained him. You walked up to her, as you were sat on the couch next to her you started stroking her arm and drying her tears.

“It’s okay. We’re just trying to understand why you did that. There’s no way you would’ve done it without a reason.” you told her.

“Jeremy kept making fun of me…” she struggled to get out whimpering.

“How long has he been making fun of you ?” Spencer asked.

“Since Valentine’s day when everyone was exchanging cards but my box was empty.” You glanced at Spencer in shock of how long you hadn’t known your daughter was getting bullied, silently suffering.

“Honey, I’m so sorry you had to go through this.” you reassured her kissing her cheek and running your hands through her hair. “But what happened exactly that made you punch him ?”

“He made fun of dad, he wouldn’t believe he was in the FBI.” She answered tilting her head up. “I asked him to stop but he wouldn’t so I defended myself.” she affirmed seeming not so guilty anymore. You unwrapped your arms from her giving her a frown.

“That’s not how you deal with problems.” Spencer said sitting on the low table across the couch.

“Yeah, you could’ve talked to us first but you didn’t even try. You know you can tell us everything ?” You backed him up.

“I know but I thought I could deal with this problem on my own. You guys always seem so good at it. And I want to be just like you when I grow up.”

You glanced at Spencer both slightly smiling at each other.

“If there’s one thing I learned from my job at the FBI is that violence is never the answer. It’s only justifiable if it’s legitimate defence; when you life is in danger.”

“Dad, do you still love me ?” she asked watching her feet swinging on the edge of the couch.

“Of course, I love you. I always will, no matter what.” he responded taking hold of her hand. “Okay?” She nodded. She didn’t seem to understand that punching someone is wrong. You needed to have a talk with Spencer;

“Now go to your room and do your homework, we’ll talk punishment tomorrow morning.” You said.

“But-“ she protested.

“No buts, go to your room.” You ordered.

You joined Spencer on the couch, he looked completely defeated. “Hey, are you alright ?” You asked him while taking a seat next to him. “Yes.” He answered a bit too quickly. “I mean…No…Not really.” You knew exactly why he was feeling like this. “It’s not your fault, Spence.” you reassured him playing with his hair.

“This whole time…And I didn’t know she was struggling. What kind of father am I ?”

“I come home every night and I didn’t know about this. It’s not because of your job, it’s not because of us. I’m blaming the school, here. They’re the ones who are supposed to prevent bullying from happening.”

He rummaged his hair with his hands whilst his elbows rested on his knees.

“Plus it’s a good sign, she doesn’t get along with kids her age…” you said slightly smirking.

“How?!” Spencer asks slightly irritated due to his public middle school flashbacks.

“It’s a sign of high intellectual potential. Her emotional age is too advanced for kids her age to understand, they tend to be too insensitive for her. She believes animals and inanimate objects have emotions and that they are intelligent. She talks to her stuffed animal like it’s a pet. She took the pepperonis out of her pizza! Also she has an enormous amount of creativity and she’s highly sensitive to her surroundings. Have you seen how she profiled your every move and suddenly her emotions followed ? Just like you she’s protective of the ones she loves. She only punched that kid because he wasn’t exactly talking highly of you…”

“So you’re saying…”

“Our daughter could be a genius.”

“As mother as daughter.” he complimented with a smirk.

“Oh come on we know who’s the genius here!” you said slapping his shoulder playfully.

You both chuckled. You kept talking for at least half an hour to come up with a plan you both agreed to. It’s not good for a child to watch their parents disagree.

~slight time lapse~

An hour after dinner, you went up to your daughter’s bedroom as it was her bedtime. You leaned on the door frame admiring Spencer, sat next to Jane on her bed, reading a story to her about conflict to teach her what to do in the type of situations she got in. He learned that from you since you were a psychologist. He admired how resourceful and clever you were. He couldn’t be more proud to have you as his significant other and the mother of his child. Your foot made a cracking noise on the hard wood floor which caught Jane attention.

“Mommy! Come!” she exclaimed shaking her little hands.

“What’s up?” you ask sitting next to the bed.

“Me and dad were reading this book you got me and now i understand. I’m sorry for not coming to you first. I just didn’t like what they said about dad.”

“Honey, it doesn’t matter what people think of you. Seeking validation from people can be so unhealthy. If you keep bottling up your emotions you’re going to explode like a bomb and that’s no good.”

“Can you forgive me, mommy ?”

“Of course. You’re still growing, as long as you learn from your mistakes I’m confident you’re going to be alright.” You answered squeezing her hand. Spencer watched in awe, it reminded him how in love with you he is.

“Yes, please don’t ever do that again!” he said a bit too quickly with a high pitched voice that made you all burst in laughter.

“Alright, you should get some sleep.” you told her giving her a kiss on the cheek and tucking her in; “Good night, my love.”

Spencer kissed her temple and set aside the little book he was reading to her wishing her good night as well. You walked out switching the lights off. As you walked down the stairs you asked Spencer to stop in his tracks pointing your finger up; Jane was talking to her stuffed animal. You both had to muffle your laughs. The future looked bright.

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boldlyanxious · 3 years

Text

Love in the Time of Taco Trucks

Jasonette July SC 2: fluff

Part of bittersweet ever after

My masterlist

Marinette had been stuck on a series of buses all evening and she was exhausted. Her work day was long and the subway was backed up. The bus should have gotten her back over an hour ago, but she was not the only person who switched to the bus after waiting too long at the subway platform. She was hungry and tired and didn’t want to have to cook when she got home. Luckily she had spied the taco truck down the block so she had a plan for that.

She smiled as she approached Grant, the taco truck guy. She had been there a few times when her tips were good, so she was familiar with him. He was so proud of having called his taco truck Tuesday so it could always be taco Tuesday. He told her that joke every time. She rushed down the block and waved at him when it seemed like he was cleaning up for the evening.

“Please serve me before you close, Grant. I’m desperate,” she begged.

“Long day?” she nodded at him. “I have just enough for one order.”

He looked to his left and made a sad face at her. Marinette looked over. There was a man with a mask approaching.

“Sorry Marinette, I can’t serve you tonight.”

She didn’t even get a chance to protest because Grant had turned and greeted the masked man.

“Good evening, Red Hood.”

“How is it going Grant? Is it too late for tacos?”

“It is never too late for you. I’ll have them right out.”

“Seriously?? This day sucks.”

Marinette felt silly at the rage that filled her but she couldn’t help it. Her whole day was filled with people expecting special treatment and then her commute home was so long and full of more people who had no concern for the inconvenience they caused others. She had been so happy at the simple solution only to be denied when someone else showed up to get special treatment.

She barely felt the first couple drops of rain when she stepped away from the taco truck. But before she was even halfway down the block the water was pouring down on her. She ran for the nearest awning to get out of the deluge. She dug through her bag but she must have left her umbrella at work. She heard footsteps splashing the wet ground behind her and then stopped. She turned when the man’s voice spoke.

“Hey, Marinette?”

She hadn’t expected him to know her name. She wondered what Grant had told him about her. She was trying to place who he was. She didn’t know all the costumed alter egos in Gotham and always felt awkward when others talked about them. Most Gothamites already knew most of them and assumed others would as well. She supposed it was the same way with how it had been in Paris when Hawkmoth had been active.

“Yes?” she said hesitantly.

“Grant said you had been ordering food but he only had enough for one. I had him make it into nachos to spread out the ingredients so that way there would be enough for both or us.”

He handed her a box. She looked up at him when she accepted it.

“Um, thanks. I was really disappointed.”

“Probably how I felt watching you walk away.”

“What??” Marinette looked up at him quickly.

“Can I walk you home? I have an umbrella.”

Marinette nodded. It may not have been the best idea. She found that out more the next day when she mentioned that she had met the Red Hood. Her coworkers wanted to know how she had gotten away and if Batman had come to rescue her. She chose not to give any additional details. He had seemed very sweet walking her home. They had started off in silence but he asked a few questions and worked out that she had a really rough day. He listened to her and wished her a good evening before he left.

---

She was starting to think that Red Hood was planning their meetings. Grant refused to confirm, but it was the third week in a row that he had just happened to show up when she was walking past the taco truck. Each time he insisted on getting her tacos because he had made her think that she would have to go without on a day she really needed them. The first time could have been a chance. The second time it could have been his routine. The third time was definitely suspicious. But now, she looked down the street and Grant was already closed.

It was a shame. Red Hood had surprised her with tacos three weeks in a row and now she was craving them today. Oh well, she had food at home she could make. Somehow tacos always sounded better. Even if they weren’t free courtesy of the notorious crime lord Red Hood.

She was a little surprised when Grant called to her from behind the taco truck. She had thought he was closed up and gone already. She was really surprised when she rounded the corner and saw the set up. There was a blanket laid out and lights strung around. The area was hidden enough that someone would have to look around the truck to see them. That was probably best for a crime lord who may not like to stay out in the open. He was sitting there at ease, waiting for her, with probably enough tacos to feed an army. Marinette couldn’t help the smile at seeing it all.

“What is all this?”

“Tacos.” he said with a laugh.

“Okay, smart guy. Why did you get an entire taco truck worth of tacos today?”

“Sit with me.”

Marinette tucked her legs under herself and sat in front of him on the blanket. He handed her a plate with tacos and picked up one himself. Neither spoke for a few minutes. Marinette followed his lead and started eating. He stopped eating and watched her for a moment.

“I like you,” he said simply.

She almost choked on her taco. She suspected as much since he kept showing up. She didn’t think he was just interested in her thoughts on how to improve fashion to be useful to workers or how to improve the look or the various heroes and villains in the city. But he stated it so clearly and easily that it somehow made it more difficult to take in.

“Oh-uh-aahh. I like you too.”

“Really? You don’t sound so sure.”

“You just came right out and said it. Who does that?”

“Well, I do.” he paused. “So I guess Jason does.”

“Jason?”

“Yes. Jason. Me.”

“You told me your name. Isn’t that like vigilante 101? Keep your identity secret.”

“Probably. But I don’t want to be a secret from you. I want to know you.”

---

It was much easier for Marinette to date Jason than it would have been to date Red Hood. He had managed to keep his identity and personal life away from his home life because of the mask. Even those who knew who he was by given name had no idea where he lived or that he was dating a waitress. Grant knew but he was very loyal to Red Hood. They may have met through the protection racket, but Red Hood had proved he was worth it when the Black Mask had come knocking. Literally.

They had come on a night Grant’s daughter was running the truck for him. She usually only helped out on busy nights and wouldn’t be alone but Grant had been sick and she set up for him. They must have decided that she was easy to convince and went after her when she was there alone. But she refused to pay so they trashed the truck and knocked her around a bit as a means of convincing her. Red Hood had heard the shouts and crashes and saw her land on the ground after being shoved into the door. She had turned the handle to help her escape the onslaught but she broke her leg in the fall. Her lip was already split from being slapped.

Red Hood did not even need to ask what had happened. He saw Black Mask’s goons exit after her and walk up to her menacingly. He waited until they were fully out and focused on tormenting the girl before he attacked them. He never found out if they survived the beat down he gave them. He didn’t even care. He stayed with Kara until her parents were able to come and get her help. Red Hood visited Grant a couple days later. He assured him that his truck would be in business again and covered all the expenses not covered by the business insurance. Property and injury. Grant never complained about the protection money and Jason never paid for another taco.

It was their first time visiting the taco truck together after officially starting dating. Grant didn’t say anything about the boyfriend Marinette showed up with who had the same build as Red Hood. He served them with a smile, not even a wink when he told them their meals were on the house.

He had even taken Marinette’s favorite picture of them. Jason was teasing Marinette as he snatched her last taco. He was putting it up to his mouth but rather than trying to fight with him over it, she lunged at him and bit the other side. The picture was snapped right as they both were appearing to eat the taco. She cheered in triumph for besting him. He laughed and put her taco down before he leaned in and kissed her for the first time.

---

Jason grasped Marinette by the shoulders and kept her upright. He ended up having to leave her for a few minutes to handle something that couldn’t wait. He was incredibly frustrated at the interruption but she just took the bumps in their relationships as they came. It was one of the things he loved about her. She never shamed him when his work interfered with their relationship. She knew he worked hard to make sure that his work wouldn’t interfere but that their decision to keep her hidden from everything in his criminal life would sometimes take precedence over their plans.

She had been perfectly happy to sit and wait. But she had wanted to wait for him to order food. She had a bit of bread with her drink. Jason had left the instruction to keep her happy while he was out back on the call. He found out when he returned that they might have kept her too happy. Her drink was full when he returned but based on the check she had drunk several of the drinks in the time he was away.

She was drunk. She was teetering on the line between tipsy and happy drunk. He liked her like this. Happy and affectionate. He almost decided to just carry her back home but she squealed with delight when she saw the taco truck. She hadn’t had more than a couple pieces of bread and plenty of drinks. He looked over and Grant was waving at them.

Jason smiled down at her while he let Grant fix them the usual. Marinette turned and kissed him while they waited. She usually didn’t like to be overly affectionate in public but when her inhibitions were lower she cared far less about them being noticed. He could see that Grant was trying not to laugh at him as he tried to keep her from doing more than he knew she preferred before they got home. It was much easier once the food was ready. She clapped in excitement to get her tacos. She probably enjoyed the food more than the fancy dinner he had planned.

He watched her sit to eat, not even wanting to wait until they made it home. She looked back up at him and smiled then looked devastated as her taco dumped out onto her tray. He got up to retrieve her a fork. He didn’t think she would even hear his wistful comment in her current state.

“You silly beautiful woman.” He kissed her on the head before he sat back down. “I was supposed to be asking you to marry me right now.”

He was looking at the small box from the fancy restaurant. He just took it with him, planning to remove the ring and come up with a new proposal plan. He glanced back at her. She was looking at him, frozen. It took him a moment to figure out what had made her react like that. Her eyesb were wide but somehow got even wider when he opened the box. A gleaming diamond ring was displayed in the fancy slice of cake.

“You want to marry me?”

“I have never wanted anything more.” he said seriously.

Marinette didn’t even answer. She lunged at him and hugged him. He tried to stop everything from falling but her tray of tacos and the slice of cake hit the ground. He had to hold himself steady to keep her from knocking him to the ground with the force of her enthusiasm. He pushed her hair back from her face and leaned down to kiss her deeply.

“Marry me?” he asked when he pulled away.

“Always.” she said as she leaned to kids him again.

---

It was a small ceremony. Jason had family but he didn't talk to them and Marinette’s situation was even more complicated. They kept the engagement short and invited only a few people. Jason’s idea was to do it behind the taco truck since it seemed to always make an appearance in their lives. But Marinette wanted some place prettier. She found a park with an old stone stair path that came out of the trees and into a clearing. It wasn’t by the seating area in the park but with a few flowers and battery powered fairy lights it turned out perfect.

They did it at dusk when the city was quiet. Darkness had just settled. Jason almost fell over when he saw Marinette walk towards him. She hadn’t let him see anything of the dress ahead of time but he knew she had spend countless hours working on it. A pale gold dress with thousands of tiny rose gold beads sewn on and tiny fairy lights attached to the dress. Her hair was swept up with glittering jewels and curls cascading down her back.

He was the luckiest man alive. Not even because he was alive for the second time. He had her and he was better for it. He couldn’t even bring himself to think of the 'what if they had never met' or he had never followed after her that first night. He wouldn’t have anything in his life if she weren’t smiling at him like she was right now.

Having the taco truck cater for the small wedding was the first decision made after they found the ring in the cake and dirt. Grant had come out to congratulate them and Marinette had happily declared that they had to have tacos at the wedding. It seemed fitting since Grant had been at all the big moments from the beginning of their relationship. He felt like family.

---

Marinette ventured into their living room to see that Jason had already set out coffee and was bringing a tray that presumably had breakfast if the smell was anything to go on. She sat at the breakfast bar and poured coffee into the two mugs he had set out. She paused with the cream halfway tipped toward the coffee when she spotted a familiar logo on a take out box.

“What’s this?” she asked, pointing at the offending box. “Did you get tacos without me?”

He pushed the box towards her with a grin.

“Open it,” he said.

She looked at him skeptically but opened it like he suggested. There were a couple bits of food in the empty box but not the tacos she was hoping he would surprise her with.

“Gee, thanks.” she said, before pushing it into the trash.

The grin melted off his face and he frantically went for the box in the trash. He pulled it out and opened it before flipping it over and checking the bottom. He stuck his finger through a small hole and wiggled it. He dug back into the trash briefly before dropping the box in the can and tearing frantically around the apartment. Marinette was worried at the unexplained reaction as he crawled along the floor and flipped over cushions. She abandoned the coffees on the counter to follow him when he moved towards the bedroom.

“Jay, what’s wrong? I’m not mad about the tacos. I know you were out late and I was already asleep.”

“It was your gift.”

“You got me tacos and they escaped into the apartment?”

“No, I got you a hamster and it escaped in the apartment.”

“A hamster?”

“I know we said anniversary gifts weren’t necessary and that we both prefer spontaneous gifts but it was. I saw it in the window on the way home last night and remembered that you had always wanted a hamster.”

“Maybe the taco box wasn’t the best place for it overnight.”

“I’m not that ridiculous. I put it in the box just a few minutes ago when I heard you waking up.”

He opened the closet and pulled down a box from the high shelf. It was full of all the things they could think to need with a hamster. The hamster case was set up and looked to have a little snuggly area where it had spent the night. The only thing missing was the hamster. They looked all over. It was an exhausting day and they ended up missing their dinner reservation for their 2 year anniversary. They ended up sprawled on the couch snuggling at the end of the day with no sign of the hamster.

Taglist

#maribat #jasonette july 2021 #jasonette july #jasonette #fluffy #fluff #fluffy saturdays #boldlyanxious

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aesterblaster · 3 years

Text

Over Coffee

Kenyu x gn Reader bc we need more him content <3

Summary: You start to bond with the one customer at the coffee shop who's nice to you (also reader is specifically not Japanese/just moved to Japan)

Tropes: Unrecognized celebrity, Friends to lovers, Hidden identity, this is a one shot lol

Moving to another county is hard. You could count on both hands and then some how many times people had noted how "exotic" you looked or asked you where you were from. Not to mention how everyone seemed to think your accent's funny. You sighed and threw away a scrap of paper that had some guy's number on it.

The small coffee shop you worked at only had business because it was the only one in town, frankly. It was understaffed and some of the lights wouldn't work. At least the rent around here was cheap. And it was only a temporary job, just something to get you off your feet. You looked up from scrubbing the counter when the bell rang.

Hm, he was pretty handsome, his hair had a causally messy look that he pulled off well and his round sunglasses matched his outfit perfectly. Those had to be some sort of designer shoes. You couldn't help but wonder what someone so stylish was doing in this worn down town.

You heard one of your coworkers squeal as she pushed you out of the way and asked for his autograph. He obliged kindly and signed his name on a hand out menu. "Yukimiya" huh? The more coworkers squeezed behind the counter space the more annoyed you got. Snippits of conversation reached you, phrases like home town and just stopping by, not that you cared.

"Excuse me, everyone! He still hasn't ordered." you shouted over the hustle and bustle.

"Oh, shut up! I know how he likes coffee already!" that same coworker hissed.

"Then go make it!" you replied curtly. Soon enough the crowd thinned out enough for this Yukimiya guy to talk to you directly.

"Thanks for saving me back there." he chuckled. "My hand was starting to cramp up."

"Mhm, don't mention it. I don't know why they went so crazy anyway. I should thank you for bringing some life to this place." You could've sworn you saw his eyes widen for a moment but he masked his shock well. This was an opportunity to actually get to know someone, someone that didn't know who he was; and he wasn't planning on waisting it. He changed the subject.

You two talked about simple things like where the best restaurants were and the weather and why you moved. But you found that you quite enjoyed his company, besides the occasional glare from a fellow worker, the atmosphere was peaceful when he was around. Plus, he left a huge tip. Hopefully, this stranger would show up more often...

. . . .

He did show up more often, and each time he made sure to talk to you and each time your heartbeat sped up. It wasn't long until you too knew how he liked his coffee and his full name. You wished his was as giving with his number as the less fashionable regulars. He did a good job at hiding his identity though, the more you thought about it the more you realized you didn't know. You'd never really bothered to ask what his job was even though you knew his favorite color.

Your coworkers started to avoid you more and more. You were fairly sure they were starting to spread rumors but you didn't care much. If no one would tell you, not even the mystery man himself, then you'd just look it up. Why you didn't think of it sooner you had no idea. You looked up his name. You shook your head slightly and refreshed the page. He was a famous model?

That explained a lot. But then that meant, that you knew (and was thinking of asking for the number of) a renowned model. Your palms started to sweat as the bell rung. Speak of the devil. "On your phone at work? I thought you were more professional than that!" Kenyu said as he walked up to the counter.

"You- I- You're- Model?" you stuttered out in response. Now it was his turn to get flustered.

"Yeah, you caught me." he said after a short pause. "I mean I was going to ask you to out but it's kinda awkward now that you found out the whole famous thing." Another pause ensued. You two stared at each other and to your surprise it was still him. He didn't look a bit different than he had before you learned he was a model. In fact, his eyes looked a bit softer now as if pleading for you to forgive him for hiding this from you.

"No, no, let's go to that market you recommended before. I never had a chance to go." you sighed. "Just, no more big surprises ok? You gave me a heart attack just now!" In an instant Kenyu was back to himself and gave you a grin.

"Sure! How's Tuesday at 8 sound?"

#kenyu x reader #kenyu yukimiya #Blue Lock #blue lock fanfic

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hot-wiings · 4 years

Text

The One Where Pro-hero!Katsuki Bakugo's Son, Finds Santa Kissing His Mother. Alternatively, The One Where Katsuki's Son Demands His Father Beat Up Santa Claus On Christmas.

Requested By: Wattpad User

Edited: 12-25-2020

Katsuki quietly hummed to himself as he worked inside the kitchen prepping breakfast. He had some pancakes and sausage on the stovetop, whereas he kept the bacon cooking inside the oven. He had one arm on [Daughter Name], keeping her attached to his hip as he bounced her and flipped food with his other hand. She was only two and still being young she clung to her father for attention, with it being one of his rare days off for the holidays he wasn't going to say no, he was going to devote it to her and his son.

"Bud, can you toast the bagels for me?"

Katsuki briefly moved his attention from the stove to pull the bag of bagels out of the bread cabinet and tossed them onto the counter. Usually, he'd had done it himself but with his daughter on his hip, cooking was already proving to be difficult. His son rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

"I like it better when mom cooks. She never makes me do stuff."

"Hey! You should gladly offer yourself up to help her when I'm not around. Your mother is a Saint, that's why she's sleeping in and you're stuck with me. Now toast the f– toast the bagels."

[Son Name] untied the bag and pulled the bagels out begrudgingly. He was defiantly a momma's boy and loved to give Katsuki lip, undoubtedly universal karma for Katsuki being such a demon to his own mother. Katsuki had to smile to himself as he put food on platters and placed it on the table as well as placing his daughter in her height chair before leaving to wake you up for breakfast.

Katsuki never thought this would become his life. He never thought he'd have a son, his own carbon copy of himself, nor did he imagine he'd follow up with baby number two attached to his hip whenever he wasn't out heroing. Beyond that, he never imagined he'd find someone like you, someone who put up with his crap, someone perfect. He never imagined such a picture-perfect domestic life for himself, one where he cooked, fed the children and owned a cat. One where he had a scheduled date night every week and brought flowers home every other Sunday. He wouldn't ever dare change it.

"Baby?"

Katsuki quietly closed the door behind him and walked over to the window so he could open up the curtains and let light in. You groaned and pulled the pillow over your head as the light made contact with you. You pulled the blanket closer to your body, and a smile tugged at Katsuki's lips. He loved moments like this.

"Sweetheart, it's time to wake up."

"No, you're mean. A big meanie."

Katsuki climbed into the bed and cuddled up next to you. He pulled the pillow off of your head and threw it onto the ground on his side so you couldn't reach back for it. You had major bedhead, and he loved that. Years ago you would've forbidden him from seeing you like that, now he found it hot.

"It's Christmas Eve, you need to get up."

"No, leave me alone. It's my day off, go wake the kids up."

"Already awake, and breakfast is on the table. We wanted to let you sleep in, give you a break for once."

Katsuki pushed your hair out of your face and tried to pull the blanket out of your grip as you fought back a smile. He thought he was being really smooth.

"For being a pro-hero you're such a liar. You don't want me to have a break, you were trying to butter me up so we can repeat what we did last night."

"You were the one who was all over Santa last night, don't blame me if I try to get the use out of the Santa suit before I have to give it back to the company."

He was referring to the Santa costume he came home wearing last night. Everyone at his hero agency had to dress up as Santa and do some charity work for a variety of different places such as churches and hospitals. He came straight home afterward and you put it to good use.

"Mm, I don't need Santa when I have you, I guess."

"Geez, aren't you romantic."

"Just let me put some clothes on and I will be right down."

You rolled off the bed and scampered off to your laundry basket to see if you could find some pajamas to clothe your naked body. Katsuki ripped his eyes away from your back, ripped his eyes away from the marks he gave you passionately. He climbed off of the bed and made his way back downstairs to the breakfast table but he passed [Son Name] in the kitchen putting bagels in a toaster.

"Dad, can I talk to you? Man to man."

"What's up, little man?"

"Last night... Last night I saw mommy and Santa kissing."

Katsuki tried to laugh it off as he pulled the orange juice from the fridge and placed it on the table, your son following him hot on his tail as he went.

"Santa only comes on Christmas."

"That's what I thought, but mom said Santa comes before Christmas sometimes to make sure our trees are working, like in 'The Grinch' but for real, and mommy would never lie to me."

"I'm sure it's not what it looked like, Alright? Your mother loves us both very much and she wouldn't do that to us."

It was exactly what it looked like but it wasn't Santa, it was himself in the Santa suit. Katsuki was grasping at straws, trying to explains this to his son and make it look innocent, trying to make you look good without exposing the secret.

"I know mommy wouldn't do that to us! What I really wanted to talk about was how Santa was really mean. He took her into her bedroom and said some really mean things. He yelled stuff at her like 'that's my pussy' and 'give me a baby'. If he wants a cat so bad can't the elves just give him one, I like our cat."

This progressively kept getting worse, and Katsuki was glad that you were still upstairs. Had you heard their conversation you surely would've killed Katsuki.

"Daddy, you need to stop Santa before he tries to steal our cat, I love Gigi! What if he tries taking [Daughter Name], he said he wanted a baby. Or worse, what if he tries stealing mommy from you. You-you need to beat him up when he comes tonight. You need to set Santa straight."

There were so many things Katsuki could've said or done to de-escalate this. He could kindly explain he was in a Santa suit for charity work. He could have lied and said he and you were arguing about getting another cat. He could have been honest and said you both were talking about having another child, but he didn't. [Son name] was begging him with forming tears in his eyes. He was crying out and calling him daddy. He was such a momma's boy, Katsuki hadn't had his son need or want him like this in such a long time. It felt nice, it felt good, so all Katsuki did was nod and agree with his son.

"They don't call me DynaMight for nothing. I'll blow him into next week. Santa won't think about stealing anyone of our family members ever again."

[Son Name] wrapped his arms around Katsuki and he smiled. He tightly grabbed his father, and let his tears fall into Katsuki's shirt as he mumbled out thank you's.

"I can't wait to see you beat up Santa."

In hindsight, Katsuki should've expected that one. How was he supposed to beat up Santa when he was Santa in the first place. Suddenly a horrible idea crossed Katsukis head. It is despicable, and mean. You would've frowned upon it and discouraged it. Once his son let go of him and walked off to sit at the breakfast table, Katsuki walked down the hall to make a phone call to his coworker.

"Key, Kaminari– What do you mean I only call you when I need something?! I'm a good friend you du– Look, do you still have your Santa suit? Come to my house tonight at eleven, in your suit. I promise it's for a good cause."

The clock was slowly ticking away. Every second chasing down the hour and Christmas Eve was well on it's way to becoming Christmas. Supper had finished up, Katsuki even cleared the table and helped you do the dishes. He had cooked, and it was a mutual unspoken agreement between you both that whoever cooked dinner did not have to clean it up after. He didn't even try to sprinkle you with water, he was just sweet and soft for the evening.

"Thanks, Katsuki, you're being so sweet today. Let me sleep in, made breakfast and you helped me clean? God, you're such a keeper."

You threw your drying towel onto the now cleared and clean counter before you made your way to the living room to find some Christmas movie on the tv that was age-appropriate for your children. Katsuki was being sweet, too sweet and it made you suspicious. He was pulling out all the cards and tricks he typically pulls out when you get angry that he'd forgotten something, or came home too late.

After you got settled down on the couch with [Son Name] nestled between your legs on the floor and [Daughter name] cuddling into your right side. Katsuki came over and sat a tray of hot cocoa on the coffee table in front of the couch. Katsuki took a seat at your left side and passed you a mug before wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close. You hummed while you sipped from the mug and carefully watched as Katsuki skimmed through the tv channels and put on 'Santa Claus', the one starring Tim Allen, for the kids and you.

He hated that movie. He claimed it was to overwatched. After being put on year after year he wanted a new Christmas movie.

"What did you do?"

"What do you mean?"

Katsuki was taken back by your words. He didn't do anything, at least not yet. He was planning to roast your best friend, but Denki didn't even know it was happening and the only one who could snitch was his son who didn't know it would be Denki.

"You let me sleep in, you made breakfast, you bathed the kids and uhm, me. You cooked and helped clean dinner, now you've brought me cocoa and now you're putting on a movie you hate. So, what did you do?"

To be fair, some of those things Katsuki had planned out into motion before he had even planned to blast Denki into next Tuesday.

"I just wanna cherish you. You're my wife, let me love you."

Katsuki pulled you even closer to his side, nearly making the cocoa in your hands tip over as he placed a tender kiss onto the tip of your head.

"You forgot to get me a present didn't you?"

Your eyes narrowed at Katsuki before he dipped his head own to your ear and whispered hotly.

"I did not forget, you're getting a great present tomorrow morning, and maybe I'll even give you one tonight."

"I'm watching you."

The minutes slid by as you watched the movie together as a family. Everyone once and awhile you give Katsuki a look out of the side of your eye, carefully inspecting him. Soon your son was nodding off at your legs and your daughter was sound asleep in your lap.

"Time for bed."

Your son jumped up, seemingly having excitement from out of nowhere. You carefully picked up your daughter and carried her in your arms as you stood up to carry her to bed. One down, one to go.

"Go brush your teeth and put on your pajamas for mommy, okay? I'll be right there to tuck you in."

Your words were rushed and whispered as to not wake your sleeping daughter, but your son frowned and grabbed Katsuki's hand.

"I want daddy to tuck me in tonight."

"Mm, you sure? I'd love to read you a bedtime story."

"I want dad."

You adjusted your daughter on your arms to help even out the weight as you stared down your son and husband.

"If you're both not in bed within half an hour I will take away a Christmas gift."

You walked off upstairs, still suspicious of the males in your family. No way did your son, the momma's boy, just reject your offer. Now you were positive Katsuki was up to something.

Katsuki waited until you were upstairs to text Denki. He was outside, waiting to make noise under the pretense that his son wanted to meet Santa. Denki could be heard outside, doing goodness knows what.

"Did you hear that?"

"Yeah! I bet it's Santa, are you gonna beat him up dad, are you gonna show him who's boss!?"

Katsuki rolled his sleeves up and looked back at the stairs, just to be sure you were upstairs and not watching them.

"You can bet your butt I am! Your dads the greatest, watch me go kick Santa's butt."

Katsuki marched to the front door and swung it open before making his way to Denki. He walked the way he did on patrol, the way he did when he was on TV, like a man on a mission, a man with a purpose.

"Ho-Ho-Ho!–"

"Ho-Ho-Ho yourself! Heard you wanted to break apart my family, Santa."

Katsuki aimed one of his blasts at Denki. It wasn't large enough to harm him, but it was large enough to hurt.

"Katsuki, what the fuck dude?"

"That was for being mean to my wife and trying to take away our cat."

Katsuki marched closer to Denki and kicked him in the leg, grinning as he heard Denki groan in pain.

"That was for swearing in front of my kid. If I can't do it, neither can you."

"I'm sorry, Jesus Christ."

Katsuki left Denki on the floor as he walked over to the front door and picked his son up. His son clutched on to him tightly, happy his father saved the family. Happy his father wouldn't let Santa take his cat or mother away.

"Thanks, Dad, you're my hero."

"Well, I am the best hero. I'd fight Santa for you any day, just don't tell your mom."

Even though Denki snitched to you the next day, even though you had watched the altercation through the window, you didn't say a word to Katsuki. You didn't reprimand him, or get upset that he hurt Denki. Instead, you watched fondly with a smile from the window. That was the father of your children, your hero, and the guy who held your heart. He was soft and sweet and held the bar for fathers high. He deserved a pass for this one.

299 notes · View notes

httpjeon · 5 years

Text

ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ — ᴋɴᴊ (ᴍ.)

namjoon/reader | angst, fluff, smut | dating service!au

wordcount: 10.3k

contents: date for hire, unsafe sex, sensitivity kink, size kink, dirty talk, fingering, car foreplay, safeword use, jimin cameo, panty kink (?), grinding, orgasm control, orgasm denial, cunnilingus, riding, wet&messy, creampie, light overstimulation

— synopsis: club ardor holds a special raffle for a free night with a man who will supposedly be the boyfriend of your dreams. you definitely don’t expect to win.

blog masterlist — series masterlist

The bar was a quiet and calm atmosphere, a Thursday night meaning it was just mostly people having a drink after work. As you wiped down the counters with the rag, you heard your coworker come from the back room calling your name.

"______, have you gotten a chance to check the raffles today yet?" she asked, grabbing a glass beside you to help clean it before you could.

You smiled in thanks, "No I haven't added them to the list yet but a few did pull a ticket today!"

"That's great," she smiled, giddy, "I think it's so exciting."

"A lot of people do seem interested in the service," you nodded, tossing your rag under the counter into the designated bin.

"I mean, how often is it that you get a free night with a man from Club Ardor?" she giggled, bumping you playfully with her hip, "Did you draw? I did."

"I haven't, no," you shrugged, smiling sheepishly.

"Why not?!" she gasped, grabbing another glass to dry off.

"I don't know..." you confessed, "I guess I'm nervous about if I win."

"Come on, it's basically a once in a lifetime opportunity!" she whined, turning around to grab the bowl and clipboard, "I'm signing you up."

You watched as she fished a paper from the bowl and handed it to you.

91294 was your number. She quickly wrote it down along with your name and contact information.

A worker from Club Ardor had shown up a week ago to explain the process of drawing and how to keep track. It was easy enough and there were already numerous spots filled on the pages.

You slipped your number into your pocket and turned around when a customer arrived at the bar to order a drink.

Somehow, you'd completely forgotten about the drawing.

It was your day off, after an especially rowdy weekend of working the bar, you were exhausted. Lounging on the couch, you munched from a bag of chips while watching TV.

From the coffee table, your phone began to buzz incessantly, making you frown. Turning to glare at the device, you saw an unknown number flashing across your screen indicating a call.

Wiping your fingers off on your sweatpants, you picked up your phone and accepted the call.

"Hello?" you sighed, hoping it wasn't a scammer.

"Hello, may I speak with Ms. ______?" a gentle, feminine voice filter through.

"Speaking," you responded, now curious.

"Ah, hello Ms. ______! My name is Joy, I'm calling on behalf of the raffle for Club Ardor," immediately, you were frozen in place, "I'm happy to congratulate that you've won the deluxe date package free of charge!"

"I...I won the..." you sat up on the couch, mouth open in shock as she laughed.

"Yes, you won," she giggled before you heard papers shuffling around.

"S-So...what happens?" you ask, heart beating loudly in your chest.

"Well, the winner is matched with Namjoon, he's the one we usually recommend for beginners," she explained, "You'll have 24 hours with him before it's over. The scene will be completely up to him—"

"Scene?" you repeated dumbly.

She hummed, "It's a term commonly used in BDSM. It's basically a planned encounter, meaning that everything that happens between you two is...essentially a role play, in this case."

"I...do we have to have sex?" you gasped at the mention of BDSM.

Joy chuckled on the line like she'd heard such a question numerous times, making your cheeks flush, "Absolutely not. You can if that is something you and he decide you want to do. If not, there is no pressure to do anything beyond talking. There is a safeword that the two of you can use if anything happens that makes you feel uncomfortable or unsafe."

"Okay..." you breathed in relief, "So...So what now?"

"Well, I'm going to ask you to download an app called Club Ardor. It will ask you for a password and it's the same as you raffle number. This will allow Namjoon and you to communicate safely without your numbers being revealed to the other."

"Oh...wow," you were impressed to say the least, "Alright, I'll do that. Thank you."

"If you have any questions of concerns feel free to call back!" she bid you farewell and you hung up.

After the call, you rushed to the App Store to download the app.

Just as you were told, the first screen that popped up was a code box and nothing held. You cursed, realizing you had no clue what the number on your ticket was.

Standing up, you rushed to your bedroom to find your laundry basket. Groaning, you began to dig through to collect all the pairs of your work pants that you had worn that week. You sat on the floor and began to search through the pockets of every pair.

"Ah-ha!" you cried as you pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.

You stumbled with how fast you stood up in an attempt to get back to your phone. You completely ignored the mess left behind by your rummaging and went back to sit on the couch.

Picking up your phone, you typed the number on the paper in and pressed enter. A small loading screen popped up before a profile to fill out filled your screen.

It was simple, asking height, weight, and basic characteristics.

After filling it out, you were brought to a simple blank page akin to that of an empty text message thread.

Unsure of what to do, you sat and clicked around for a minute to see if you were missing anything but nothing new happened so you locked your phone. Placing it to the side, you sighed as the nerves finally began to fade.

"I wonder..." you unlocked your phone and clicked on safari.

You typed in club ardor in the search and got a website of the same name.

"Welcome to Club Ardor, an exclusive dating service dedicated to living out every woman's fantasy," is what it read.

You scrolled past the information about how they were formed and where they were located. There was a box that was used to presumably register online for a date instead of calling to schedule. You also noticed there seemed to be a male-exclusive Club Ardor that operated separately from the one you were on.

Finally, you found what you were looking for: the dates profiles.

"Club Ardor's Dates are hand picked into the most desirable archetypes," you clicked next and were immediately brought to the profile of 'Namjoon — The Boyfriend Type.'

To your dismay, there was no picture of him — only basic information such as his height, weight, and age. You were surprised to notice the winning raffle number was the date of his birthday.

'Namjoon is most suitable for beginners. He offers an authentic Boyfriend Experience unlike any other you will experience.'

Beneath that was a small notice; “Namjoon’s service comes in a Deluxe Package and Standard Package. For 24 and 12 hours of date-time respectively!”

Before you could click further to see the other men, you phone made an unfamiliar dinging noise before a notification came in indicating a new message on the Club Ardor app.

As you opened the app, your heart began to race. A new text thread became available from Namjoon.

"Hello, nice to meet you!" his message said.

You quickly replied back with a greeting of your own. It was indicated as 'read' immediately before he started typing.

"Our date is scheduled for Saturday afternoon," he said, "I'll let you know the details as soon as I have them. Do you have any questions?"

You read the message a few times, trying to think if you had anything to ask. Your fingers began typing before you realized what you were doing, "You plan the date by yourself?"

"Yes," he replied, "Every experience of my client is unique so no two women have the same date with me 😁! I will ask you questions to make sure that everything is to your liking so I don't plan something you may end up hating lol."

You smiled, instantly charmed by his personality as you replied, "Alright! I look forward to it 😇!"

Saturday was a week away and you had no idea how you were going to live through the anticipation. It'd been so long since you'd been on a date and now you're about to go on one that would supposedly be your dream date with your dream boyfriend.

Tuesday morning rolled around and you woke up to a couple messages from Namjoon.

ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟹:𝟷𝟾ᴀᴍ] ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪᴛ's ʟᴀᴛᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴍᴏsᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇʟʏ ᴀsʟᴇᴇᴘ ʙᴜᴛ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇɢᴇ ᴏʀ ᴡᴏʀᴋ? ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟹:𝟺𝟿ᴀᴍ] ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴄᴀsᴜᴀʟ ᴏʀ ᴜᴘsᴄᴀʟᴇ? ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟽:𝟷𝟻ᴀᴍ] ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ 😜!

The messages made you smile and you quickly typed up your response before getting out of bed, "I work at a bar and I probably prefer casual...I only won this date, remember? I'm not used to luxury so...and good morning!"

You watched for a second, locking it after a moment when he didn't read it.

"No way, you won?!" your coworker, Yongsun shrieked before covering her mouth when a customer glared her way, "You won the date?"

"Yeah..." you chuckled, sneakily unlocking your phone to show her the Club Ardor app with Namjoon's name on the preview to the text thread.

"Oh my god!" she squealed, grabbing your arm excitedly, "This is crazy! Oh my god, you're going to have to tell me everything."

"Nothing's really happened," you chuckled, "He's just asked a little about me and said he's making the best date he can for me."

"He already sounds like a dream..." she sighed, lashes fluttering.

"Let's get back to work," you chuckled, pocketing your phone.

With your shift over, your feet were killing you and you nearly collapsed before you could get the door closed. Your phone gave a now familiar ding and you pulled it out to see a message from Namjoon.

ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷𝟷:𝟻𝟽ᴘᴍ]

ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴡᴏʀᴋɪɴɢ?

You texted back letting him know your shift just ended and you were going to be heading home. He read it immediately and began to type.

ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷𝟷:𝟻𝟽ᴘᴍ] ʟᴀᴛᴇ sʜɪғᴛ, ʜᴜʜ...ʙᴇ sᴀғᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ ʜᴏᴍᴇ. ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ʜᴏᴍᴇ.

You smiled, enjoying the way your heart fluttered in your chest at his words. He definitely had the 'boyfriend' role down to a science. Packing your things up, you bid goodbye to Yongsun and made the trek back home.

As soon as your door was shut and locked behind you, you pulled out your phone to text Namjoon.

ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷𝟸:𝟷𝟿ᴀᴍ] ɪ'ᴍ ɢʟᴀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏᴛ ʜᴏᴍᴇ sᴀғᴇʟʏ. ɪᴛ's ʟᴀᴛᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴘʀᴏʙᴀʙʟʏ ᴛɪʀᴇᴅ. ɢᴇᴛ sᴏᴍᴇ ʀᴇsᴛ.

You bid him goodnight, and held your hand to your chest. He was dreamy. You wondered what he looked like.

His personality only gave you so much and you wished you could put a face to the man who seemed to increasingly make you swoon.

After getting ready for bed, you sat down and combed your freshly washed hair before pulling your phone out of the mess of blankets you'd thrown it into.

ᴛᴏ: ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷:𝟶𝟷ᴀᴍ]

ᴄᴀɴ ɪ ᴀsᴋ ʏᴏᴜ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ?

ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷:𝟶𝟷ᴀᴍ]

sᴜʀᴇ, ᴅᴀʀʟɪɴɢ.

The pet name immediately had you blushing and you bit back a smile.

ᴛᴏ: ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷:𝟶𝟸ᴀᴍ]

ᴄᴀɴ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ʟɪᴋᴇ?

He read the message and you waited to see if there was a response. When he didn't begin typing, you deflated slightly and sighed — taking it as a no.

As you tossed your phone to the side, you stood up to go to the bathroom to brush your teeth. Once finished, you crawled back into bed and picked up your phone.

You paused when you saw three minutes ago Namjoon had sent you a picture.

When you opened it, you felt like all the air had been punched out of your lungs.

He had blonde hair that was pushed back off of his forehead and thick, pretty lips. You could see the faintest hint of dimples on the flawless skin of his cheeks.

He was probably the most good looking mad you'd laid your eyes on.

As you stared at his picture, another text from him came in.

ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷:𝟶𝟽ᴀᴍ]

ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ɴᴇʀᴠᴏᴜs ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀɪɴɢ, sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ.

ᴛᴏ: ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷:𝟶𝟽ᴀᴍ]

sᴏʀʀʏ...ɪ ᴡᴀs ᴊᴜsᴛ sᴜʀᴘʀɪsᴇᴅ. ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ...ᴠᴇʀʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ.

ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷:𝟶𝟾ᴀᴍ]

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪ'ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ sʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ғᴀᴄᴇ.

You frowned, feeling self-conscious as you had to follow up a picture of your own face after seeing his incredibly attractive self.

ᴛᴏ: ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷:𝟶𝟿ᴀᴍ]

ɪ'ʟʟ sᴇɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏᴍᴏʀʀᴏᴡ.

ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷:𝟶𝟿ᴀᴍ] ᴋᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ᴏɴ ᴇᴅɢᴇ. ɪ sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇ, ᴅᴀʀʟɪɴɢ. ɪ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ғᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ɪᴛ.

The teasing tone and pet name had you flushing, unable to respond as you locked your phone and plugged it in for the night.

When you woke up, you had a text from Namjoon greeting you good morning once more. It brought a smile to your face and you texted him good morning back before once again leaving to get ready.

As soon as you got to work, you showed Yongsun the picture of Namjoon. You were sure she nearly had a stroke as she covered her mouth to scream gleefully before gushing about how good looking he was.

"Man, Club Ardor really...really did choose well, huh?" she hummed, zooming in on his face, "Look at his lips, man, if you don't get at least one kiss from him I will make your life hell."

"You trying to live vicariously through me?" you giggled at her dramatic nature.

"I can't any other way! I'm too poor to snag a date with one of them," she pouted, putting her work apron on with a sigh, "It must be nice to be rich."

"He keeps calling me pet names, it's honestly..." you quickly tied your hair up as you spoke, "He really feels like a boyfriend, it's crazy."

"Club Ardor lives up to its reputation," Yongsun nodded, "I thought it was only a 24-hour thing, how come you've got him for a week in advance?"

You shrugged, putting your phone on silent before pocketing it, "When I won, the lady said it was a special deluxe package. I didn't think to ask. Maybe I'll ask Namjoon later."

"I wonder how many women end up falling for them by accident," she mumbled, opening the staff door leading to the bar for you, "They must have broken numerous hearts if everyone is as authentic as Namjoon seems..."

"I guess that's the price you pay for a fake date with the man of your dreams," you replied, sighing, "They ruin you for anyone else."

Getting home, you noticed you didn't have any messages at all from Namjoon. It was odd but you didn't think anything of it. Heading to the bathroom, you touched up your makeup and fixed your hair before taking several selfies until you found a suitable one.

Taking a deep breath, you quickly sent it to Namjoon with an attaching message reading "as promised!"

When you didn't receive a reply, you decided to just head to bed.

Waking up that morning, you quickly realized it was going to be a shitty day. Your alarm on your phone failed to go off properly — you must have forgotten to turn it on the night before. It led you into getting ready as quickly as you could to get to work on time.

You arrived at the last minute, Yongsun having arrived earlier than you so you didn't have a chance to talk to her.

When your lunch break rolled around, you had the first moment to check your phone. Opening the text thread with Namjoon, you noticed he had seen your picture shortly after you sent it the night before but hadn't responded.

It made you feel bad, your already low mood easily receiving another hit from the bad day.

Putting it on silent once more, you put it in your pocket and returned to work.

By the time you got home, you were beyond drained. Your mood was in the toilet, your feet hurt, and you had barely gotten any tips.

You took a shower, hoping to relax the tense, sore muscles in your back. The hot water and soothing atmosphere helped to clear your mind.

By the time you got out, you were feeling a little better and decided to curl up on the couch for the night in comfortable pajamas and fuzzy socks. Covering yourself with your favorite throw blanket, you turned the TV on and let yourself settle down.

Before long, you were dozing off. You had gotten several episodes into a drama and decided to call it quits once the current turned off. In an effort to keep yourself awake, you sat up and grabbed your phone off of the coffee table.

When you unlocked it, you were surprised to see several text messages from Namjoon.

ғʀᴏᴍ: ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷𝟸:𝟷𝟾ᴀᴍ]

ʜᴇʏ sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ, sᴏʀʀʏ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴀʙsᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʜᴏᴡ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ?

ғʀᴏᴍ: ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟸ᴀᴍ]

ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴜᴘsᴇᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ, ɪ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛᴏ ɢʜᴏsᴛ ʏᴏᴜ.

ғʀᴏᴍ: ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟾ᴀᴍ] ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏᴛ ʜᴏᴍᴇ sᴀғᴇʟʏ.

You couldn't help but smile as you unlocked the phone and typed out your reply.

ᴛᴏ: ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷𝟸:𝟹𝟸ᴀᴍ]

ɪᴛ's ᴏᴋᴀʏ. ɪ'ᴍ ʜᴏᴍᴇ.

ғʀᴏᴍ: ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷𝟸:𝟹𝟸ᴀᴍ] ɪs sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡʀᴏɴɢ?

You were surprised both by his quick response and ability to tell that something was wrong.

ᴛᴏ: ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷𝟸:𝟹𝟹ᴀᴍ]

ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀ ʙᴀᴅ ᴅᴀʏ. ɪs ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴏᴋᴀʏ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ?

ғʀᴏᴍ: ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷𝟸:𝟹𝟺ᴀᴍ]

ʏᴇᴀʜ, ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪs ғɪɴᴇ. ɪ ᴊᴜsᴛ ɢᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʙᴜsʏ sᴜᴅᴅᴇɴʟʏ!

ᴛᴏ: ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷𝟸:𝟹𝟺ᴀᴍ] ᴏʜ? ᴡᴀs ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴄʟɪᴇɴᴛ?

You were quite curious about the aspect of his job. It was such an unknown world to you that it actually made you want to know more about what happens behind the scenes.

ғʀᴏᴍ: ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷𝟸:𝟹𝟻ᴀᴍ]

ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ, ɴᴏ. ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀ ʙɪɢ ᴇxᴀᴍ ғᴏʀ ᴍʏ ᴄʟᴀss. ɪᴛ ᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴀʟʟ ᴍʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ.

ᴛᴏ: ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷𝟸:𝟹𝟻ᴀᴍ]

ᴄʟᴀss? ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇɢᴇ sᴛᴜᴅᴇɴᴛ?!

ғʀᴏᴍ: ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷𝟸:𝟹𝟻ᴀᴍ] ʏᴇᴀʜ! ɪ'ᴍ ᴀ ʙɪᴏʟᴏɢʏ ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀ ᴀᴛ sɴᴜ.

You were stunned. SNU was a tough university to get into, and the fact Namjoon had — he had to be smart. You were confused why a man like that was a date-for-hire. It felt too invasive to ask so you simply replied with an impressed 'that's amazing'.

He immediately began typing again and you waited just a second until the message popped up.

"I've got to go, something with work came up. I just want to say that I enjoyed your picture, you're absolutely beautiful and I can't wait to see your beauty in person. Sleep nice, sweetheart."

For the first time that day, you felt happy.

Friday morning, you were a mess of nerves. You still had work and you were thankful that it would be able to take your mind off of it.

As you worked, you felt your phone buzz and you heart raced in response. You hoped it was Namjoon.

It wasn't until you lunch break that you were able to open it.

He had asked how you were feeling which you replied with an honest 'nervous'.

Before your break ended, you got a sweet 'don't be nervous, baby. It'll be fun, I promise!'

Once you were home, you found yourself opening the text thread with Namjoon to greet him. He didn't respond quickly so you jumped in the shower to wash off the filth that had started to cling to you. You'd gotten off earlier than usual but there had still been the loud, smoking, drunk patrons that frequented on weekends. The smell of cigarettes stunk up your hair so you eagerly washed it, enjoying the scent of your lavender shampoo.

You stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around your body as you used another to scrunch your hair dry.

Taking a seat on your bed, you noticed the screen lit up with a notification.

ғʀᴏᴍ: ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷𝟶:𝟷𝟻ᴘᴍ]

ʜᴇʏ ʙᴀʙʏ, ɪ'ᴍ ᴊᴜsᴛ ʟᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴅʀᴇss ᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏᴍᴏʀʀᴏᴡ. ᴡᴇᴀʀ sʜᴏᴇs ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ sᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪɴ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ.

ᴛᴏ: ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷𝟶:𝟷𝟼ᴘᴍ]

ᴀʟʀɪɢʜᴛ! ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴀ sᴋɪʀᴛ ʙᴇ ᴏᴋᴀʏ?

ғʀᴏᴍ: ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷𝟶:𝟷𝟼ᴘᴍ]

ᴛʜᴀᴛ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ��ᴇ ғɪɴᴇ, ᴅᴀʀʟɪɴɢ. ɪ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ғᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ!

ᴛᴏ: ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ [𝟷𝟶:𝟷𝟽ᴘᴍ]

ɪ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɪᴛ!

You locked your phone and put it on to charge for the night after bidding him goodnight. Sighing, you stood up and made your way to the closet. Luckily you had an outfit idea in mind and you stood up to fish it out.

Feeling giddy, you hung it up on the hook on the back of your door and picked out a pair of flats. You'd had them for a year, they were still in excellent shape but they'd been worn enough to be more than comfortable.

Then you finally laid down in bed, curling up with your blankets around you.

You woke up at 11 — your alarm pulling you from a deep sleep. Sitting up, you stretched and let out a groan as you joints popped. You tossed your feet onto the floor and stood up, making your way to the bathroom.

When you came out, you spotted the outfit today's date on the door of your closet and smiled. Your heart fluttered in your chest and you eagerly picked up your phone, unlocking it when you saw a message from Namjoon.

Your fingers trembled as you read that it was a simple address.

"Meet me here at 12:30...we're having lunch!"

You decided to get dressed and use the hour you had to do your hair and makeup. When you were ready, you let out a slow exhale to steady your nerves as you slid your shoes on and headed out.

It was wonderful weather and the light breeze felt nice on your bare legs. The skirt made you feel cute and encouraged you to hold your head high.

The address led you to a small, family owned restaurant. You opened the door, taking a look around. It had a rustic vibe and there were a couple people scattered around. You inhaled, the smell of cooking food making your stomach growl.

Realizing that Namjoon wasn't at any of the tables, you decided to choose a booth that was located in a quiet corner.

A waiter stopped to deliver a menu to you before asking if you wanted a drink. After ordering a coke, he disappeared and you opened the menu.

You checked the time, frowning when you realizing it was 10 past the time he'd told you. The waiter placed your drink down and you thanked him.

"Do you want to order anything?" he asked, holding a small pad and pen.

"Um no...not yet, I'm waiting for someone," you replied sheepishly. He nodded and put the pad away before he disappeared again.

As you resumed looking at the menu, eyeing the burger options, someone dropped down into the booth seat across from you. You jumped, head jerking up to meet the brilliant, dimpled smile of Namjoon.

"Hi," he greeted, his voice smooth and rich. It made your heart flutter and your cheeks burn. He was gorgeous, deep dimples and pretty brown eyes that sparkled. His hair was honey blonde but was hanging in his eyes, giving him a boyish appearance.

"H-Hi..." you breathed, looking away when you couldn't hold his stare any longer.

"Cute..." you heard him chuckle before he leaned back in the booth, "Sorry I'm late...work held me for a bit longer than I anticipated."

"I-It's fine," you mumbled, the two of you being interrupted by the waiter placing another menu down for Namjoon and asking him for his drink order.

"Can I get a coffee black," he asked, smiling before looking down at the menu, "Got any clue what you want?"

"I kind of want a burger..." you mumbled, eyeing the different options.

"You read my mind," he chuckled, sending heat to your cheeks once again, "The burgers here are to die for."

"You come here often?" you asked, raising a brow when he nodded.

"Usually after class, it's on the way to my apartment so..." he shrugged.

"Here you go, sir," the waiter said, placing the cup of steaming coffee down in front of Namjoon, "Do you two know what you want?"

After the two of you ordered, you were left alone. Namjoon looked effortless at ease, a small smirk playing on his lips as he looked at you.

"You look cute," he complimented, smiling gleefully when you became flustered, "Do I make you nervous?"

"N-Not nervous..." you mumbled, biting your lip, "It's just..strange, I guess."

He nodded, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hand thoughtfully, "I get it. There's build up to it and then when it finally happens it sort feels unreal."

"Yeah," you chuckled, lifting your glass to your lips to take a sip from the straw, "I was meaning to ask you...er," you paused before you voiced the question, "Are you okay with...talking about your...job?"

He chuckled, "Ask away."

"How come you're going to a school like SNU...but working this job?" you asked, "I mean there's nothing wrong with a date-for-hire job but like..."

"I get it," he nodded, sitting back to sip his coffee, "To be honest, I just needed a way to pay my way through. I didn't exactly...expect to pass the entrance exam, it was just a spur of the moment decision, and then when I did...I realized I had absolutely no way to pay for it," he sighed, a smile playing on his lips, "So I was looking around and...the opportunity to work for Club Ardor came up so I took it."

"That's interesting..." you hummed, stirring your drink with the straw, "You've got to be pretty smart to pass the exam without even expecting to."

He chuckled, dropping his head. You could see his ears turn pink and you realized he was shy, "I just...do my best," he cleared his throat and looked back up at you, "So you work at a bar?"

"Unfortunately," you huffed.

"You don't like it?" he asked.

"Not really," was your reply, making him frown, "Kills my feet and it's usually shit pay and tips. I'd quit and get a new job if I could but I can't risk losing my apartment and stuff..."

"I understand," he said and looked like he was going to say something else but the waiter interrupted with the plates of food.

The two of you fell into a surprisingly comfortable silence as you began eating. You hummed at the delicious taste, making Namjoon smile.

"Good right?" he chuckled when you nodded enthusiastically, taking another bite.

After you both had finished your burgers, he ordered a piece of chocolate mousse cake to share. It was wonderfully easy to fall into Namjoon's rhythm, you realized. He was calm, easy to talk to, and witty — making you laugh by barely doing anything.

You were comfortable with him.

However, there was a heavy feeling deep in the back of your mind as you remembered that this wasn't real. It was his job to make you have fun — he was paid to make you feel nice.

You were surprised to find that the two of you had been there for a while — it was nearing four o'clock. He seemed a bit surprised as well as he checked the watch on his wrist. You couldn't help but notice how expensive it looked.

"I think we should get going, our next destination awaits," he stood up, slapping down a couple bills from his wallet as a tip.

"There's more?" you asked, taking his hand when he offered it to you.

He chuckled, lacing your fingers together as he nodded, "Of course, wouldn't it be disappointing if this is all we did? A whole 24 hours to kill...man, I would not be worth my salt."

"I-I guess..." you chuckled, acutely aware of the way his hand felt in yours, "Where are we going though?"

"Ah...you're not getting information out of me that easily," he teased, opening the door for you to let you out first, "It's a surprise!"

"What if I hate surprised?" you asked, teasingly raising a brow.

"Well..." he stopped in front of a sleek black car and smiled, "I guess you better learn to love them pretty fast."

He didn't let you answer before he was opening the passenger car door and ushering you inside. Once he was sure you were comfortable, he shut the door with a slam and jogged around the front to slide into the driver's seat.

As he began driving, he turned on the radio and let a comfortable silent settle in. You took a moment to take him in; his long, pretty fingers gripping the wheel and the way his jeans hugged his thick thighs. As he stared ahead at the road, you could make out the sharp of his jawline and how his lips glistened in the sunlight after he dug his tongue across them.

He was dreamy to say the least.

"You okay?" he asked, smiling that pretty smile, "Do you want to AC on?"

"No, I'm okay," you replied, looking away at almost being caught.

However, you were quickly forced to look back at him when you felt his hand slide over yours on the middle console until you let him lace your fingers together.

"We're heading out of Seoul," he said, "We should be at our destination by 7."

"Is there something interesting going on out of Seoul?" you asked, making him shake his head.

"Interesting for other people, no. Interesting for us...very much so," he squeezed your hand, bring it up to his lips to press a kiss against the skin.

Your heart hammered loudly in your chest as his lips lingered.

He was good at his job, you'd give him that.

The time passed with the two of you talking; he introduced you to his favorite music and made you laugh as his sang along off-key. He even took a bit to passionately explain a recent portion of his course in college to you — even though you barely understood anything. He looked so cute with bright eyes as he excitedly spewed things off from memory.

It was nice. It was comfortable.

His hand in yours felt nice.

The sun was just beginning to set, casting a vibrant orange glow on the world around you when the two of you suddenly pulled into a side road. The pavement gradually turned to gravel before it was just dirt.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were bringing me out here to murder me," you joked as you watched the heavily lined trees pass.

Namjoon laughed wholeheartedly from beside you, "Oh darn, you caught on."

His sarcasm made you smile, your eyes focused on the road in front of you. After several minutes, the trees finally vanished Namjoon stopped the car.

You stepped out of the car when he opened the door for you, grinning.

Looking around, you realized you were in a huge grass field. There wasn't anything in sight as far as you could see. It was a vibrant green, almost glowing in the orange light.

"What...what's here?" you asked, looking to him as he leaned back against the hood of his car.

"Just wait, baby, come here," you flushed at the pet name and let him pull you into his chest.

His arms wrapped around your waist and you could feel his breath fanning over your ear. He smelled incredible, a musky — almost spicy scent of his cologne making your eyes flutter.

You relaxed, your back to his chest as you both stared out over the seemingly endless field.

As the minutes ticked by, the sun began to sink lower and the light diminished further. You were eager to know what exactly you were waiting for.

Suddenly Namjoon hummed, "There they are..."

Your eyes moved from his face back to the field and you couldn't help but gasp at what you saw.

The field was lighting up with seemingly millions of little lights. You stepped forward, eyes wide as you watched the lights dance around endlessly as the field vibrantly came to life.

"This is..." you gaped for a second before looking back at Namjoon, "Incredible!"

"I heard about this place a couple months ago," he explained, pushing himself off the hood of his car, "A friend of mine took his kids out here and it sounded so magical I wanted to come. I didn't have the opportunity to until now."

"I'm so glad you decided to take me here," you whispered, beginning to make your way into the field.

The grass was thigh-high, clearly unmaintained but you didn't mind. The fireflies surrounded you, landing on your body and flickering their little lights brightly.

"I'm glad I took you here too..." he said, making you jump as he was suddenly behind you.

As you looked up at him, you could see the way the fireflies lights reflected off the deep pools of brown in his eyes. He looked ethereal, smiling down at you as if it were just the two of you in the world.

He turned you around, wrapping his arm around your waist and reaching up to cup your cheek. Your breathing stuttered as he leaned down just slightly — hinting at what he wanted.

"Can I kiss you, ______?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"Y-Yeah...I'd like that..." you replied.

He smiled just slightly before his lips descended down upon yours. They were soft and as his thumb softly stroked your cheek, you returned the kiss. Your hands found purchase on his chest and you stood on your tip toes to deepen the kiss. He eagerly reciprocated, cupping the back of your head to tangle his fingers in your hair as his lips moved effortlessly against your own.

When you pulled away, you were both panting and he wore a small smirk.

"Ready to head back?" he asked, voice a few octaves deeper.

A shiver went down your spine when you felt his way his hands lingered on your body. You nodded and let him take your hand to lead you back to the car.

The atmosphere between the two of you changed drastically from before. It was tense and heated.

You could feel his gaze shifting to you every few minutes, lingering in a way that had your body heating up. With every second that passed, the more you thought about that kiss.

He was a good kisser. You wondered what else those lips could do. He had pretty hands. You wanted them on your body — wanted to feel his touch on your skin.

It seemed Namjoon shared the same idea as his hand suddenly found purchase on your thigh — bare from the skirt you wore. Goosebumps rose along your skin in response.

His fingers inched towards the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You let your thighs separate for his wandering touch and you heard him release a breathy exhale.

"Tell me if you want me to touch you," he said, making you lick your lips, "I'll only do it if you say yes."

"Pl-Please touch me, Namjoon," you breathed shamelessly eyes fluttering when his hand forced your legs further apart so he could cup your clothed core.

"The safeword is firefly," he growled, the sound only dampening your panties. Your breathing hastened at the soft, teasing touch of his fingers, "Say it."

"Th-The safeword...is firefly," you breathed, letting your head fall back against the headrest as you arched you hips further into his touch.

"Good girl," he grinned, never taking his eyes off the road.

His fingers were skilled and precise, forcing the damp fabric between your folds to find your clit. You shuddered at the rough friction against your hardening bud, biting your lip to hold back from crying out. He let out a breathy chuckle, clearly enjoying teasing you.

You were getting wetter with every second that passed, making your panties stick to you almost uncomfortably.

"Can you take your panties off for me, babygirl?" he asked, taking his eyes off the road to take a look at you as you reached under your skirt. Hooking your thumbs beneath the band of your panties, you tugged them down. You pulled your knees up to your chest to tug them off of your feet.

Before you could toss them away, Namjoon grabbed them and sat up to shove them into his pocket before his hand found purchase on your thigh again.

"Spread your legs wide, baby," he mumbled, licking his lips as you did as you were told.

With your pussy completely exposed, he could see the way your wetness glistened in the passing light from outside. He let out a breathy groan when his digits found their way between your folds, spreading them apart to make you shiver as the AC breezed over your sensitive slit.

You let your mouth fall open with a small whine when he slid his middle finger into your entrance, the long digit easily finding your sweet spot — which he immediately began to abuse. When you looked over to him, you could see he wore a smirk on his lips and it made your walls flutter around him.

He hummed, pulling the digit out to circle your swollen clit — your own arousal allowing him to make effortlessly quick circles on the bud until you reached down to grab his wrist.

He chuckled, letting you slow him, "Sensitive, baby?"

"Mhm..." you sighed, not releasing your hold on him as he moved to sink two fingers into your cunt, "Feels good..." you whispered.

"Yeah?" he chuckled, licking his lips as he slowly pumped his fingers into your wet pussy, the noises almost obscene in the otherwise quiet car, "So tight, baby."

You didn't offer a response, merely grinding your hips down to get him to touch that spot again. When he did, you jolted and moaned. Namjoon hummed, his cock painfully hard in his jeans. He wanted to relieve the ache but both hands were too occupied.

"Hey baby?" he asked, smiling at your dazed 'hm?', "Can you unbutton my jeans for me?"

As you reached over, fingers ghosting over his hardness through the material of his jeans, he added a third finger. It made you paused, instinctively gripping his cock. He groaned, biting his lip at the feeling until you finally pulled the button out of the loop and pulled the zipper down.

"Fuck, that's better..." he mumbled to himself, angling his fingers in your hole upwards to press that spot again — enjoying the way it made you tremble.

He paused in surprised when your hand dove beneath his jeans to cup his cock through the cotton of his boxers, "You're...big..." The comment had him grinning, ego boosted, "You know how to use it, right?"

"Do you think I don't, babygirl?" he growled, pulling his fingers from your cunt to lightly slap your clit. You jolted and covered your mouth with your hand to quiet the shriek you let out in surprise at the sting.

You hummed, squeezing his cock, "I hope you do but...sometimes guys have big cocks that they just can't use."

You felt a rush of excitement as you saw his tongue poke the inside of his cheek angrily, clearly not happy with your challenge.

"You'll see how well I can use this cock soon, baby," his voice was low and dark, "Until then, sit back and let me play with your little cunt, huh? I don't wanna hear anything but moaning from that pretty mouth, got it?"

You didn't answer, resulting in a sharp slap to your sensitive bud again.

"Answer me," he growled, stroking his fingers over your folds to sooth the sting when you voice your understanding.

It seemed like everything turned into a daze around you. You could only focus on the incredible feeling of his hands touching your cunt. Every time it seemed that you were close to release, he'd back off and ease you away from orgasm.

You were growing frustrated, nearing tears when the car came to a sudden stop. Blinking yourself out of the daze, you looked around to find you had pulled into a small parking garage.

You sat up in the seat, pulling your thighs together and shivered when you felt how wet you were. Namjoon opened your door and helped you out, slamming it before you heard it automatically lock — deafening in the garage. He took your hand and tugged you in the direction of the doors.

There was a red carpet leading up the two darkened glass doors which Namjoon easily opened with a slide of a card in the reader that sat on the wall. When you stepped inside, you were stunned to see that it was a breathtaking, extravagant sitting room.

It was furnished mostly white with a couch and chairs, even a TV and table. There was a door on the other side that also appeared to be locked with a card reader.

"This is restricted to the guys and clients only," he explained, leading you over to an elevator. He pressed the button to call it and the two of you fell silent.

You squeezed your thighs together at the lingering arousal, only increasing when you felt his hand trail beneath the back of your skirt the graze over your folds. The elevator dinged and slid open, the two of you stepping inside. Namjoon pressed a button and the elevator doors closed.

He suddenly turned around, pinning you against the wall of the elevator. The metal railing pressed against your spine but you paid it no mind because his lips were quickly pressed against yours. You sighed into the kiss, gripping his shirt tightly in your hands to pull him closer to you. His body was warm and firm, hands gripping your hips to grind his still hard length against you with a groan.

The elevator dinged with the arrival to the correct floor, his lips lingered on yours for a second before the doors began to open. Before either of you could step off, you were greeted by another man who stood with his hands shoved in his pockets.

"What're you doing, Jimin?" Namjoon asked, sounding surprised as he stepped aside to let the other on.

"I was going to go out but now I'm stuck in an elevator with you for another minute," the new man mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back.

You took a moment to look him over, black hair pushed back messily to reveal strong brows and sharp eyes. The man oozed intimidation and you felt your heart speed up. Namjoon seemed unaffected and you assumed it was because he'd been around the stranger, Jimin, a lot.

The elevator dinged once again and opened up. Jimin gave Namjoon a short wave when you both stepped out before he reached over and pressed a button. You caught sight of a smirk on his full lips before the doors closed.

You let out a sigh, letting Namjoon take your hand once again.

"Sorry about that," he chuckled, "We don't usually run into each other like that."

"He's another...date?" you asked as he led you down a hallway. There were several doors that you passed but he was taking you to the very end of the hall it seemed.

"Yeah, that's Jimin," he responded.

"He was...scary," you mumbled, making him laugh.

"A couple of the guys are pretty intimidating," he said, "A lot of girls are into that type though."

"I see..." you said, the run in with another date only seemed to pull you out of the daze you'd gotten into with him. It reminded you that you were only part of his job, and that thought made your chest ache. You felt almost pathetic and you realized how lonely you would feel after you left him.

"Again, sorry," he sighed, seemingly realizing you had been pulled from the scene. He stopped in front of a door at the very end of the hallway, pulling out the card he used for entry and slid it into the door like a hotel keycard. The red light turned green and he pushed the door open.

"It's okay..." you assured, smiling politely when he let you walk in first.

He flicked the light on and you paused to look around. It was a homely, casually decorated room. There was a TV and a couch connected to a kitchen. You could see through a doorway across the room that it was a bedroom. The carpet was soft and warm beneath your feet when you took your shoes off.

"This is our room for the night," he smiled, placing his keys and wallet into a drawer next to the door, which automatically locked with a keycode, "I chose it just for you."

"There are other rooms to choose from?" you asked, wandering further into the living room to take a seat on the couch.

"Yeah, this whole floor is actually mine," he said, kicking his own shoes off, "We all have our own floor. Each room is furnished and styled differently according to client and scene."

"Interesting," you sighed, letting yourself relax on the couch as Namjoon wandered into the kitchen.

You watched him open the fridge and pull out a couple bottles of coke. He placed it down on the coffee table in front of you before he sat down as well.

"Thanks," you smiled as he put his arm around your shoulders and grabbed the remote, turning the TV on.

After a moment of him channel surfing, you realized you needed to pee. Excusing yourself, you followed his directions into the bedroom to the bathroom.

The bedroom was designed just as homely as the living room, with a bed of several fluffy pillows and a bedspread that looked soft. There was a dresser and bedside tables as well. It sort of looked like a bedroom a couple would share.

Shaking that thought from your head, you stepped into the bathroom and closed the door.

Namjoon sat on the couch and sighed when he heard the bathroom door close. He could tell you felt strange about everything now and he cursed Jimin's appearance.

The only way the scenes worked was if he was able to make his client feel like their relationship was real and genuine. Usually he would let his client figure her own way around and he'd move on with his job but for some reason he really wanted to see you lost in everything with him.

You weren't familiar with this life whereas his clientele consisted of women who regularly used dating services. The way everything was so new to you was endearing and he wanted you to have a good time.

He broke out of his thoughts when you sheepishly called his name from the doorway of the bedroom.

"What is it, baby?" he asked, glancing at the way you gripped the edge of your skirt.

"Y-You still have my um..." a smile bloomed across his face as you inched closer to him until you were standing in front of him.

"Your what?" he asked, cocking his head to the side in faux confusion.

"M-My panties," you grumbled, holding your hand out, "Give them back, it feels weird not wearing any."

"I think I prefer you without them," he grinned, sitting forward.

Your breathing stuttered when his hands gripped your thighs, urging you forward until your standing between his spread knees. His fingers found the edge of your blouse, pulling it out of the band of your skirt. Your hands naturally found purchase on his hair as he leaned forward to press a soft kiss against the soft skin of your stomach.

His hair was soft and he sighed when you tugged it as his lips ghosted over a sensitive spot. Pulling back, he reached up to undo the first button of your shirt, pausing to give you a chance to stop him. When you didn't, he continued to undo the buttons until it was hanging open. He licked his lips as he sat back to admire you, your breasts looking wonderful in the pretty bralette he knew you wore just for him. It wasn't lost on him that it matched your panties.

His hands traveled up your body until he cupped your breasts through the bra, making you sigh and arch your back for him. He pushed the bottom up until your breasts came into view and he felt his cock throb in his jeans at the sight of your perked nipples.

Your cheeks burned hot as he shamelessly drank in the sight of your bare breasts. You quickly stripped the article off, leaving you in your skirt alone.

He released a shaky breath and grabbed your hips, urging you forward until you fell into his lap. Cupping the back of your head, he brought you down for a heated kiss. You could feel his length, so hard, beneath you and you reached down to unbutton his jeans once again. This time, however, you pulled his cock free. You could see precum glistening on the tip and as you gave him a quick squeeze, you watched it drip down the head to meet your hand.

He pulled you down so you were suddenly sitting on his cock, the shaft sliding between your wet folds. He groaned, head falling back as you immediately began to grind against him, your clit sliding along the sensitive underside of him.

"You're so wet..." he breathed as he felt you dripping down his cock, "Does it feel good, baby?"

"So good," you whined, gripping his shoulders as you eagerly ground yourself against him, your clit throbbing as you were reminded how you were edged and denied by him earlier.

The high you'd missed out on was rapidly growing again, making you tremble in anticipation. Namjoon sensed your impending orgasm and quickly stopped you, forcing you back onto your knees.

Before you could voice your complaints at being denied again, you were roughly pinned down with Namjoon hovering over you. He leaned down, cupping your cheek as he pulled you in for a kiss.

You gasped into his mouth as you felt his cock at your entrance. You could distantly register the crinkle of a condom wrapper but were too absorbed in the kiss to think about it.

You both froze, eyes locking as he sunk into your tight cunt, your walls squeezing him so perfectly that it made his lashes flutter. Neither of you wanted to wait, you arched your hips, grinding down on him until he pulled back.

When he sunk into you completely and you cried out when he found your sweet spot with practiced ease.

"Holy shit," you whined, clinging to his shirt as he focused on hitting that spot.

"Feel good?" he asked, a cocky smirk on his face when you nodded, "Think I know how to use my cock?"

"Fuck, yes," you panted, losing your grip on him when he suddenly sat back on his knees.

He gripped you beneath your knees and pinned them to your chest. You were left deliciously exposed and the angle allowed him to hit your spot even better. The orgasm you continued to be denied was growing once again.

Sweat caused Namjoon's hair to cling to his forehead and there was a dark glaze in his eyes as he watched the way you hungrily took him in. Your cunt was creaming wet as you gushed on him, painfully close to cumming but unable to without him touching your clit.

He grinned as you whined, dangling so close to the edge, he kept building you up but never let you fall over. The desperate way you ground against him made his cock throb, close to his own orgasm.

It turned him on, having such control over you. Knowing that he was the only one who could make you cum in this moment.

"Please, please make me cum, Joon..." you practically sobbed.

The nickname took him by surprise, throwing him off guard and it pushed him over the edge. You whined when he stilled, feeling the way his cock was throbbing in the throws of his orgasm, the lovely little groan he gave as pleasure coursed through his body.

He pulled out, watching the way you trembled. The denial was painful, leaving you with teary eyes and pouting lips.

Suddenly, he was sinking two fingers into your entrance and there was the hot feeling of his tongue on your clit. Your hands flew down to grip his hair. He pumped his fingers upwards, hitting your spot as he sucked your bud into his mouth.

Your walls fluttered and tightened around him with your high. Your whole body tensed before you were cumming. He groaned, releasing your clit from his lips but flattening his tongue against it as it pulsed in time to your orgasm.

You were crying out, the orgasm that had been denied several times being one of the most powerful you'd ever experienced.

Before long, you were whining in overstimulation until he finally pulled his fingers from your cunt. Giving you a final lick to your clit, enjoying the way it made your body jolt, he pulled away.

He brought his cum soaked fingers to his lips, meeting your gaze as he took them into his mouth. Your squeezed your thighs together at the way he moaned at your taste, swirling his tongue around the digits until he deemed them clean enough.

Then, he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours — letting you barely taste yourself.

The two of you were panting, worn out from the intense session.

"We should get cleaned up," he breathed, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

"Yeah," you nodded, letting him pull you up and lead you to the bathroom.

He closed the door and began to strip. The only thing you had to do was push your skirt down until you were completely nude.

"I've...never done that before," he suddenly said as you both stepped beneath the rainhead shower, hot water pouring over you both.

"Done what?" you asked, smoothing your hands over you skin to quell the goosebumps.

"Used my...mouth," he mumbled before quickly shaking his head, "I-I mean I've eaten girls out before, I've had girlfriends obviously but...I've never done it with a client."

"Oh..." you hummed, meeting his gaze. He seemed almost nervous, "Th-Thanks...for doing it with me, I guess?"

He chuckled, nervously reaching up to comb his now wet hair back, "Don't take this the wrong way but...I really don't know why I did it. I just...had this overwhelming need to taste you..."

The confession send a shiver down your spine and you bit your lip, "And...was it up to your standards."

He grinned, stepping forward until he was towering over you, "Exceeded them."

He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, sighing into the kiss. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pulled you closer to him.

"I want to do it again," he mumbled, reaching behind him to shut the water off.

"Wh—!" you were cut off by him suddenly picking you up. Clinging to him, you were paranoid he would drop you but before you could enjoy being in his arms, he was tossing you onto the bed.

Neither of you cared you were soaking wet from the shower, he spread your legs and dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed. He was perfect height to slide his tongue through your folds, making you sigh. You were still sensitive and eagerly spread your legs for more.

He was good with his tongue, letting his tongue find its way into your entrance — hot and wet. Mouthing at your clit, he swirled his tongue around the bud, enjoying the way you whined at the stimulation. Reaching down, you ran your fingers through his wet hair and tugged.

Namjoon was in heaven, the taste of you sweet juices on his tongue going straight to his cock. It was maddening how you had such a strong effect on him.

Wrapping his arms around your thighs, he slid his tongue between your folds with a moan. He took your clit into his mouth, the tip of his tongue flicking lightly to make your thighs jump.

"I'm gonna cum..." you whined, arching your back as you abandoned your hold on his hair in favor of the sheets.

"Cum," he urged, never stopping his tongue on your clit, even as you arched and let out a low moan. You trembled in his hold and gasped, clamping your thighs around his head to stop him when it quickly turned into overstimulation.

He stood up, eagerly crawling onto the bed, meeting your lips for yet another feverish kiss. Reaching down, you wrapped your hand around his hardened shaft, pumping it a few times until he moaned and pulled away.

"Ride me?" he breathed, making your heart skip a beat.

You nodded, the two of you moving effortlessly together until you were positioned above his cock.

"C-Condom?" you asked, remembering how he had gotten one earlier.

"Fuck..." he dropped his head back, eyes following your wetness as it dripped onto the head of his cock, "I...You can say no but...I don't fucking want one."

"Me either," you confessed, prodding the very tip of him at your entrance.

"I trust you're clean?" he asked, watching you nod though he was fully aware that you could be lying, "Fuck, take me in, baby."

You did so without hesitation, the two of you groaning as you sunk down on him — walls stretching to accommodate his thick length. You rolled your hips against him, grinding your sensitive clit against his pelvic bone. Sighing in pleasure, you pulled yourself almost completely off before dropping back down.

Namjoon /whimpered/, gripping your hips as you eagerly began to ride him. You reached up, pinching your own nipples as you effortlessly moved. Your walls spasmed and clenched around him, the feeling of him stuffing you full intoxicating.

"Th-This is so fucking reckless," he choked out, knocking your hand away to cup one of your breasts, "I never...do it bare but fuck...I've never wanted it more."

"Y-You feel so good..." you whined, resting your hands against his chest for more leverage.

"That's it, good girl," he praised, pinching your nipple to make you cry out.

You could feel him throb inside you, obviously close. Your wetness coated his cock, dripping down his shaft to his balls. The fact you got so wet for him only turned him on more. He tightened his grip on you, urging you to quicken your pace.

You were more then happy to oblige, leaning down to pull him into yet another kiss as you rode him. Your thighs were burning, sore, but there was nothing in the world that could stop you in that moment.

"Gotta feel you cum around me," he panted, urging you to sit back up. You leaned back, putting your weight on his thighs.

"Please," you begged, biting your lip.

He watched the way your breasts bounced in time to your movements. He brought his thumb to his mouth, wetting the pad of it with a quick lick before pressing it against your little clit. Your eyes rolled back and he could feel you clench tighter around him, your mouth falling open in a silent moan.

"Cum on my cock, babygirl," he ground out, clenching his teeth to hold back his own orgasm, "Come on, do it for me, baby."

With a final, exuberant cry, you were cumming. Your walls spasmed and you trembled above him, nails digging into his thighs. He didn't mind, the sting only adding to the pleasure.

"Fuck, where can I cum?" he asked, voice tight was he forced himself to stop from blowing his load inside you.

"Inside, please, cum inside," you begged, resuming rolling your hips against him even though you were painfully sensitive from your own orgasm.

Namjoon let out a loud groan, "Fuck," as he came. His grip on your hips tightened as you felt the hot rush of his cum filling you up. It dripped from inside you, running down his shaft and making a mess but neither of you minded.

His hissed, "Stop, stop," until you stopped moving.

The two of you sat for several long minutes until you finally pulled off of him. His cum gushed out further but you only laid beside him, uncaring. He wrapped you up in his arms, and kissed the top of your head.

"I can't believe I did that..." he said, an almost gleeful chuckle escaping his lips.

"Y-You don't ever do it bare with...clients?" the word rolled awkwardly off your tongue.

He nodded, "It's not technically against policy but...it's urged. Some of the other guys order STD tests before a meeting so they can go bare but...I don't usually."

"Then why with me?" you asked, looking up at him through your lashes.

He was quiet for a moment, eyes analyzing your face, "I don't know. I think I'm addicted to you."

You were surprised by his words, eyes widening. He gave you a small smile and urged you to lay your head back down.

With his heartbeat pounding against his chest, you couldn't help but wonder what would happen when the 24 hours were up.

#bts smut #namjoon smut #rm smut #bts scenarios #namjoon scenarios #bts imagines #namjoon imagines #bts reactions #namjoon reactions #bts preferences #namjoon preferences #bts fanfic #namjoon fanfic #namjoon x reader #namjoon/reader

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ptersparkers · 4 years

Text

affection

summary: the two times jj maybank had rejected the affections of others and the one time he welcomed it.

warnings: hints at abuse (it’s not mentioned at all but it’s canon with jj’s relationship with is dad) and typos, probably.

(not my gif, i’m having trouble finding the editor)

add yourself to my taglist!

“You probably shouldn’t do that,” Pope warned the blonde tourist when she said she was going to say hello to him. By her posture, attitude, and everything about her, he knew she was going to try to get his attention in a promiscuous fashion.

“C’mon,” she said, jutting her bottom lip out. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. JJ had engaged in small talk with her at last night’s party, but it didn’t go beyond speaking casually. You had arrived only to give John B. the towel that you had borrowed and left but JJ tried to catch up with you.

“He doesn’t like to be touched or hugged,” he said casually, leaning against a tree that hid him under the hot North Carolinian sun.

“That’s not what I saw last night,” the blonde said, smirking as if she knew him better than his best friend since childhood.

“Delusional,” Pope muttered as she began to walk away. John B. had come back outside with two water bottles in his hand and gave Pope one when he saw a stranger attempt, and failed, to get JJ’s attention by caressing his shoulder.

He jumped back and knocked over the cleaning supplied for the surfboard he was working on. The girl gasped at his sudden expression and apologized over and over again before stumbling out of the space, not daring to look at Pope who hadn’t bothered to hold in a laugh.

“Jesus,” JJ cursed.

***

“Maybe my boredom will be cured if I walked into the ocean,” JJ said casually. Kiara had been scrolling on her phone for the past twenty minutes, waiting for John B. to set up the party in the boneyard.

“That’s dangerous,” Kiara said, not looking up from her screen.

“I’m so bored,” he said. “The sun’s not even down and the tourists are gonna be the same oblivious shits they always are.”

“That’s why you get drunk, JJ,” she said. “Tourists suck but it’s nice to escape for a little while.”

“Do you know when Y/N’s gonna be back from her shift?”

“I think at nine,” she said. “She’s gonna swing by for a little bit and play it by ear.”

“Okay,” he said, not wanting to press any further.

When the sun eventually set and the air became a little cooler, three bond fires were lit and the place was scattered with teenage tourists who were looking for a good time and to party with the locals. It was no secret that JJ had previously enjoyed his trysts and used to have no attached feelings with people who would be leaving within a week or two. It seemed that the girls who came to the parties knew he would be there and it was almost like they had a secret game of who could catch his attention and who would last long enough flirting and, eventually, being led away from the party.

It wasn’t like that every night. But sometimes, buzzed girls get brave when it comes to seeing someone they want to spend the night with.

“Wow,” one girl said, laughing at whatever nonsense JJ had said. “It sounds like you and your friends get into a lot of trouble around here.”

He laughed and took a swig of his beer. “I wouldn’t call it trouble.”

“What would you call it?”

“I’d say we’re adventurous,” he replied. John B. could see a few girls hanging around JJ’s every word in hopes that they were going to get lucky that night but he had to laugh at the futile attempts to seem like they were more worthy than anyone else at the party.

“How long do you think they’ll last?” you asked, approaching John B. and standing next to him, leaning on a wooden fence.

“Not even ten minutes,” he said. “They’ve been eyeing him like the last piece of meat.”

“Don’t they always?”

“What’s up with you nowadays?” John B. asked. “You’ve been working a lot more these past two weeks.”

“One of my coworkers got food poisoning and I offered to cover her shifts,” you said, sighing. “I’m kind of exhausted but this ends tomorrow because she’s coming back to work and I’m ecstatic to relax and hang out with you guys.” John B. nudged your shoulder and you two shared a laugh. The sibling-like bond strengthened with every heart-to-heart conversation you two had.

“I think we’re all starting to go insane when you’re not here,” he confessed. “Kie’s getting annoyed with us. Pope keeps forgetting to bring snacks. JJ’s complaining that he has no one to talk shit about us with.”

You laughed. “And you?”

“I have no one to annoy, duh,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I think I need to sleep for a month straight before I do anything else,” you said. “Or at least have some time to take a decent nap without it being too hot to sleep.”

The conversation died down when you watched ahead and saw that JJ had tried his best to avoid the advances of the raven-haired girl when she tried to put her hand on his cheek. You had to admit, you felt bad for the girl when you saw the others she was surrounded by snicker, but you all knew they’d eventually try their hand at getting JJ alone for the night.

JJ made up some excuse to leave them sitting by the branches and approached the two of you.

“I’m gonna head back,” JJ said. “Too tired for this shit.”

“Get some sleep,” you said in concern, handing JJ his jacket that was resting beside John B.

“It’s really good to see you,” JJ said, backing away. “I’m sorry, those girls kinda freaked me out so I’m gonna go. I’ll see you guys tomorrow?”

You and John B. nodded and waved goodbye, watching him disappear into the dark.

***

“You busy?” a redhead asked, sauntering to where JJ and John B. were sitting. The Wreck wasn’t as busy in the late mornings before the lunch rush on Tuesdays and the two were sitting by the bar, enjoying complementary smoothies that Kie had given out. A group of girls were sitting not too far behind, seemingly encouraging her to behavior.

“Kind of,” he said, averting his gaze.

“I saw you at the party last night,” she began. “I wanted to say hi but you left before I could.”

“Just had a lot of things on my mind,” he said nonchalantly as John B. desperately resisted telling this girl to leave them alone.

“Well, would you want to come walk by the beach with me?” The redhead looked back briefly at her friends, who were giving her a thumbs up.

“No thanks,” he said with a fake grin. “But thanks for the offer.”

The redhead, defeated, walked back to her friends without another word.

You walked into The Wreck with a bikini top and jean shorts that were nearly soaked, Sarah trailing behind you. You had just come from a surfing session and convinced her to come out with you that morning before deciding to meet up with JJ and John B. at the restaurant for lunch.

“I’m starved,” you said as Sarah left the room to go and use the restroom. JJ turned his head at your voice and grinned as you walked over to him, your arms stretched out to give him a loving embrace. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck and peppered it with loving kisses.

“I missed you. I think you should quit your job and only hang out with me.”

You laughed and pulled him from your body, moving wisps of hair from his eyes before stroking his cheek with your thumb. His eyes were trained on yours and you kissed the tip of his nose, which left JJ a blushing mess.

“Oh, come on!” you heard someone yell from behind you. You turned around to see four girls frowning towards you.

“Did I do something wrong?” you asked.

“Other than be JJ’s girlfriend, I don’t think so,” John B. said, amused.

“Whatever,” you said, turning back around and planting a kiss on his lips for all to see.

“That’s my girl,” JJ said when you two parted, squeezing your hip.

“Anyway,” Sarah said, clapping her hands, “I’m starved and the food Kie’s making is not going to eat itself.”

You had to admit, while it was amusing to watch girls try to get on JJ’s good side, it was increasingly annoying when you noticed just how much people took notice of him. Was he good looking? Absolutely. Was his body sculpted by the gods? Of course. Was he your boyfriend and not some one night stand a tourist could enjoy? Why, yes.

There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that JJ would reject any advances that came his way nor would he ever entertain the idea of doing something that would end up with both of your hearts broken. JJ wasn’t stupid; he had spend so long pining after you and finding the right time to tell you how he felt to even think about dating anyone else, much less a tourist who didn’t mean anything to him.

He was yours and you were his. Simple as that.

#jj maybank #my writing #affection

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rostovs-lover · 4 years

Text

roy rogers

brian may x reader | cursing, some suggestive language, a little bit of anxiety, alcohol consumption | she/her pronouns | fluffy? slow-burn?? | wc.3667

i’m low key tempted to make a part two,,

anon : Can I request a super cute fic where Bri needs more money for uni, so he starts offering guitar lessons and the reader has a little brother who really wants to learn how to play, so she signs him up. Maybe her brother is extremely good with a guitar and he has a lot of lessons with Bri. He also sees the reader a lot and he catches feelings HARD. Maybe the reader’s little brother spills something to both of them with the help of the rest of the band and they end of together. I just need major FLUFF

your younger brother thinks his guitar teacher is perfect for you and he’s adamant about getting you together. requests open!!

A Roy Roger’s is a nonalcoholic drink made of cola and cherry grenadine and topped with a maraschino cherry.

Your younger brother, David, practically lived in your apartment. For a fourteen year old he was brilliant and very, very sneaky. Sneaky enough to creep out of your mother’s house in the dead of night and crawl up to the fire escape of your second story apartment.

When you’d stumbled to the kitchen, half asleep, he’d been at the table thumbing through a cookbook. He’d also had the audacity to laugh when you screamed, thinking he was an intruder. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, and it most definitely wouldn’t be the last either.

“One of these days something is going to be thrown at your head,” You hissed, setting a bowl of cereal in front of David, who looked at it with the utmost disgust.

“What is this?”

“Quisp, either eat it or starve.”

He glowered at you, “I like Waffelos,”

“That's so sad, I have no money, its Quisp or nothing.” It was quiet for a while as you both ate, David still looking through your cookbook.

He closed the book, examining the cover as he spoke, “Mum said you have to sign me up for guitar lessons,”

“Mum said what?”

“You have to sign me up for guitar lessons, she’ll pay. I have a well of untapped potential in the musical realm. That's according to her coworker, Deirdre.” He sighed, exasperated, “Mum trusts Deirdre apparently because now I have to learn guitar.”

“Where on earth does mum expect me to sign you up, I mean did she give you any specifics, like a price range? Do you even have a guitar?”

“First, I have mum’s old guitar. Second, she just said lessons. I think she trusts your judgment.”

Despite how much you appreciated your mother trusting your judgment, finding reasonably priced guitar lessons with someone who wasn’t a creep was harder than anticipated. You had collected a handful of flyers and business cards, all offering said lessons. The first call you placed was to a nice old lady looking to take up some spare time by providing lessons but she lived too far away for your mother to drive every week. The next was almost promising until you told Robert MacIntere that the lesson was for your brother, not you and he hung up the phone. One woman had too many cats, another man asked for your shoe size, someone else cursed you out when you said you couldn’t do their outlandish prices. The only promising thing you had gotten was a History professor, a very nice man too. You were thrilled when the lessons had finally been scheduled until he bowed out at the last minute and you were back at square one.

You had almost given up when, one rainy Thursday evening, you found an advert pinned outside of the auditorium. Guitar lessons, not too far away, open every Tuesday and Wednesday after three o’clock. The document was typed, all except a phone number scrawled on the bottom, almost as if an afterthought. You scratched the number on the palm of your hand and called straight away when you got home.

The line wrung for several seconds, “Yo?”

“Hi. Hi, yes I’m calling about a flyer I saw posted at Imperial College? It was an advert for bi-weekly guitar lessons, and your number was on the paper. I was wondering about booking a couple of weeks?”

The person on the line snorted, “Sorry dear, that’s not me. I assume you’re looking for my mate, just one moment and I’ll gather him-” You heard his hand cover the receiver as she called for someone, “Just one sec’ lovie,”

The phone was audibly handed off, “Hello?”

“Hi, um I’m calling about the guitar lessons?”

“Oh!” His voice, “Yes, of course! That's me, are you looking to schedule one?”

You had scheduled for the following Tuesday at four, to meet at his apartment. In the car on the way there, David rambled on about everything he wanted to learn and exactly how ecstatic he was for this. He had named his guitar George, after George Harison, who he admired. On the elevator ride up to Brian’s apartment, David was practically vibrating and he bounced on the balls of his feet as you waited at the door.

The door was opened by a blond, clad in a bathrobe and flannel pyjama pants who puffed at his cigarette as he stared at you, “What brings you here?”

Before you could speak David, who the blond hadn’t noticed until just then, piped up, “The guitar lessons. I’m the one being taught, [Name] is just sitting in.”

“Oh, well come in then, I’ll go and get Brian.” He tucked his cigarette behind him and lead you inside, “Um, make yourselves at home, couch is all yours.” He howled Brian’s name and ducked into the kitchen, snuffing out the smoke in an ashtray.

David got settled on the couch, tugging out his guitar, and you set into a chair. From around the corner rushed a very frantic body, clutching his own guitar. He was very tall, and the black pants he wore made his legs seem unproportionate to his body. What caught your eye the most though was his hair, he had a thick mane of tightly wound black curls, which also added to his height.

“Hi, I’m very sorry about this, I got a touch caught up in a bit of school work.” He settled onto the couch next to your brother, “You must be David, I’m Brian.” He gestured a hand to your brother.

David, ever the charmer, shook firmly as he spoke, “Its pleasure meeting you. I wasn’t quite sure that lessons were even going to happen, no one seemed right, according to mum, but you seem nice! Your guitar is neat. Oh! That's my sister, [Name], I believe you spoke on the phone.”

“We did,” Brian leaned forwards to shake your hand as well, “Its nice to meet you,”

A better teacher would have been hard to come by. Brian was patient and soft spoken, he worked at your brother’s pace, never rushing past anything he didn’t fully understand. The lesson was only an hour long but it seemed much shorter, with a book in tow you didn’t pay much mind to anything else. That was until you caught yourself glancing over the cover to watch the lesson. Brian was attractive and he had very nice hands. You were somewhat aghast you’d never seen him on campus, he seemed hard to miss.

The lessons became weekly, and despite trusting Brian and his roommate, Roger, you still opted to stay for every one. It was always pleasant, the apartment was nice, Brian was nice, and you had begun to get acquainted with his friends. During the third week, Roger had let it slip that they were in a band. Brian’s face had flushed scarlet and he’d played with his fingers as he explained that it wasn’t anything serious. On that same visit, you’d had a conversation with Roger in the kitchen while he got you a glass of water. He was nice, only half awake at the time, but you’d realized you had an evolution class together at school. He had also given you his number, and David would absolutely not let you hear the end of it.

“Please-” Your brother cried as he threw himself onto your sofa, “You haven’t had a boyfriend in ages. The last one was, what was his name?”

You rolled your eyes, “Chet?”

“Chet Robbins! Chet the safe bet!”

“Chet the safe bet? Did you make that up?”

David smiled, very proudly, “I did! Just now actually, because it's true! Chet, the business student, trust fund child, frat boy. Why not date a drummer?”

“Because I like stability David,”

“[Name] date the drummer. I beg, I plead. He was so into you, he gave you his number!”

“If you will recall, I have his number. Because his number is the apartment number and that's what I called for the lessons. I also refuse to date your teacher’s best friend. How would I approach that, ‘Hi Brian! You’re teaching my brother an instrument, I did your friend last night. How have you been?’”

David gasped in mock disgust, “I never said a word about doing him. You foul wench, I simply implied dinner. Maybe seeing one of his shows.”

“Oh my dear, when you date a drummer it's never just dinner.” You snorted.

“Well, when I date a drummer it will be. Only dinner, no foul play.”

“Please, please keep that attitude for the rest of your life.”

It was quiet as he mulled over your words. You started off, putting away your bag and coat when he abruptly sat up, “You don’t dislike the drummer, in fact, it has nothing to do with him. You don’t like my teacher’s best friend, you like my teacher.” He grinned when your face lit up, “Oh you do, you absolutely do! I’ve never seen you blush that hard.”

“You little twit,” You hissed, “If you say a word about this I will have your head. This stays between us and us only.”

David was sneaky, very sneaky. Your conversation had planted an idea in his head like a seed and every brief glance and soft smile you shared with his teacher was water. He was growing a downright devious plan, with you directly at the center of it.

David, after quietly looking over the house and picking up on Brian’s affinity for science fiction, had been the one to recommend you start reading George Orwell’s 1984. He had also purposely disappeared to the restroom when he caught sight of Brian eyeing the cover.

Brian carefully cleared his throat, “Do you read much Orwell?”

“Oh, Orwell? No, not really. I, um- I read The Road to Wigan Pier for a book club a while ago. Are you a fan?”

“Oh yes,” He smiled, leaning forwards, “I’ve read that, actually. I was in a band a few years back by the same name,”

You cocked your head, closing the book against your finger, “1984?”

“Yes, quite silly, I know. Never was much good at naming.”

“Roger said you’re in a band now, what's that called?”

His cheeks were beginning to pick up a soft pink again, “Um, Queen. Our singer named it-”

David sat back down, “Did I miss anything important?”

Brian looked away and you went back to your book. The only noise became the guitar residing between the two boys on the couch. David had learned enough to start on a song, I Walk the Line by Johnny Cash. It was recognizable enough to draw your attention, and it was lovely at first until it was all David played. When you returned home, when you visited your mother, he played it so much you had memorized the fingering to it.

It was at another lesson, several weeks later, when you had been left by your lonesome. David had gone to get a drink and Brian had run to retrieve something from his room. All alone and with nothing to tell you not to you settled into the couch with the guitar and tried at the song. It was choppy, a bit off-key, but mostly there.

“I didn’t know you played?” Brian’s voice was soft but you still jumped, shooting around to find him. Leaned against the back of the sofa he twirled a coin between his fingers, grinning down at you.

You swallowed, “I don’t, no, not really. Dave’s just played this so much I remembered how it looked.”

He propped his chin in his hand, “I think you could be quite good. Just, here-” He slipped the coin between his teeth to reach down, softly grasping your wrist, adjusting your placement on the neck. His hands were warm and it sent a shiver up your spine as he carefully moved your fingers, “That should do nicely, I trust you’ll do well with the right placement.” He was quiet for a moment, silently pondering something, “Friday night we have a show at about ten o’clock, say you come and maybe I could show you something on the guitar afterwards.”

You considered, “Where is it?”

“The Cameo, downtown London.”

“It sounds lovely, very, but I have to admit I’m not big on the downtown London clubs. I actually don’t know where that is. Although I do have a friend whos well versed with the scene, I could ask her to show me there?”

“Wonderful,” He grinned, “It's a date!” Something else David wouldn’t let go of. Usually, all he talked about was the music he learned but now he was enthralled with the prospect of a new romantic venture. You had been informed on exactly how to dress, what makeup to wear, what drink to order. He also picked the exact shade of blue for you to paint your nails.

You called Marilla after your mother picked David up and she had agreed, enthusiastically, to show you to the club. When she arrived you had been called ‘prudish’ and were forbidden to dress yourself. In the very back of your closet was a floral dress you’d bought for a wedding reception that never happened. It was supposed to be returned but you just hadn’t gotten around to it.

“It doesn’t scream rock n’ roll,” She inspected the green fabric under the kitchen light, “But anyone can look like Twiggy with enough eyeshadow so it’ll have to do. You should invest in club clothes, you might have to if anything goes with this guitar player.” Her eyebrows wagged.

You rolled your eyes, taking the dress from her, “Hush, you’re just as bad as David.”

“Your brother?” Marilla snorted, “What's he got to do with this?”

“He's an insufferable little shit, that's what-” You pushed off your top, “At first he tried to get me with the guitar player’s flatmate but when that didn’t work he really pushed Brian and I,”

Marilla was amused, far more amused than you, “He's a cunning thing, I’ve always liked him. Oh boy, now I really want to see your guitarist, Brian was it?”

The club pulsed, dull lights glaring down against everything. It was smokey and smelled of weed and whiskey. The band onstage was far too loud and you clung to Marilla’s hand as she pulled you up to the bar.

“What do you want?” She practically had to yell for you to hear but it went through you, you couldn’t think with all the noise and lights. She sighed and patted your hand, “A Moscow mule and a Roy Roger’s please.” She shouted at the bartender, “It's alright babes, no alcohol, just fancy cherry coke.” You nodded and accepted the drink, taking a tentative sip as you scanned the crowd. The band onstage had seemed to conclude their set but it didn’t make things any quieter. It was overwhelming really, moreso as Marilla started to pull you up to the front.

“Come on, it's almost ten. Your boy’ll be up next!” She settled in front of the stage, rooting you to the spot next to her.

Brian’s flatmate came out, twirling a drumstick between his fingers and he was met with loud cheers. Marilla whooped, waving big up at him. He was followed by the bass player, Brian, and the singer. They were all enthralling, and you were enraptured. The boys on stage looked ethereal, in flowy tops and sparkly makeup. The frontman was clad in glittery jewelry and the bass player wore platform boots. Their music drew you in and eased your nerves about how crowded the club was. The last song had a guitar solo and as he played Brian’s eyes met yours. A rose of warmth bloomed into your cheeks and he grinned, fingering at the chords.

Marilla, immune to none, elbowed you in the ribs, “That's him?!”

You nodded, “It is,”

“Damn girlie! Good for you! But for the record, I think I like the drummer,”

“His name is Roger. If you come backstage with me you can meet him.”

She grinned, “I’m so proud of you, getting connections!” As they finished Roger flung one of his drumsticks into the crowd. You flinched as Marilla’s hand shot out. She squawked as she caught it, quickly tucking it into her pants and taking your hand, pulling you towards the back lounge. She pushed at the thin curtain to the side, slipping in.

It was quieter and you watched people in glamorous outfits dally about. A redhead in hot pants dropped onto the shabby leather sofa, passing glass bottles of something to both the drummer and bassist. The singer was swirling what you could only assume to be a cosmopolitan. He looked up, catching sight of you and Marilla, both looking a bit lost.

“Hello, come come!” The singer waved you over and Marilla practically dragged you.

“You are spectacular!” She raved, “All of you, magical!” She tugged the stick out of her waistband and made her way to the drummer.

You cleared your throat, “You really are amazing, you have a lovely voice.”

The brunette smiled, “Thank you! I’m Freddie by the way, our charming drummer is Roger. The lovely John plays bass and Brian should be around here somewhere, he plays the guitar.”

“It's nice to meet you, Freddie, I’m [Name]. I was actually looking for Brian,” You twiddled with your fingers, looking down, “He asked to meet here tonight. You wouldn’t happen to know where he is would you?”

“You know, he may have popped to the kitchen. I’ll show you,” Freddie stood up. He seemed to catch your hesitation, glancing back to Marilla, “I’ll keep an eye on her. Roggie really is no harm, he plays much bigger than he actually is, I don’t think he could hurt a soul. Not an undeserving one at least.” He started towards the kitchen with you in tow.

Aforementioned kitchen was small and shockingly clean. Your guitarist sat on the counter with a glass of water.

Brian seemed to be in his own world until Freddie caught his attention, “Someone’s been looking for you, my dear,”

Brian looked up, “[Name]! Hello, I’m so glad you came!” He slid off the counter setting his drink down, “Did you bring your friend?”

“I did, she’s become infatuated with Roger though.”

He grinned, “Oh Rog seems to do that to some people.”

“Well, I'll leave you to it!” Freddie called, waving and walking back to the lounge.

When the door shut Brian began to fiddle with the bottom of his shirt, “I left my guitar in the other room, I could go and grab it if you’d still like to learn that song.” He studied your face, “But you don’t look comfortable, are you alright?”

“Yes, this just isn’t really my scene. I’m not used to the noise and everything, there's a lot of people here.”

He smiled sympathetically, “I know, it's crowded. There's a nice little diner just down the road, we could walk there and talk if you’d like.”

You nodded, “Sure, that would be lovely.”

The air was crisp and it brought you back to reality from the club. Brian had lent you an extra sweater he had brought, it was warm but you had to roll the sleeves a few times. It was quiet as you walked, the occasional car rushing past. The sidewalk narrowed as you got closer to the strip of restaurants and you felt the back of Brian’s hand brush yours. You caught his fingers, lacing yours into them and nervously looking up. His expression mimicked yours, jittery and shy and totally taken.

“You look very pretty,” He murmured, thumbing over your knuckles, “That green looks very nice on you.”

You smiled, “Thank you, you look lovely as well.”

“Oh pish posh, this is just stage wear. But I’m glad you think it looks okay, Rog said I looked frumpy.”

You giggled, “Marilla, the one who brought me, called me prudish earlier.”

His laugh was soft, “Well, we can be fashion disappointments to our friends together,” He pulled open the door to MaryAnne’s Diner, holding it for you.

You were settled in a booth waiting for your order when Brian spoke, “David really has potential,”

“With the guitar? I’m not surprised, he's always been good at everything he tries. It's really quite annoying, how brilliant he is.”

“He seems so, a very nice kid. Does he live with you?”

“No no,” You smiled, “No he lives with our mum, he just sneaks out to see me more than he should. I don’t know if I ever thanked you for letting me sit in, I know it's not common practice. I just worry about him, he seems so much older than he actually is and I’m worried it’ll get him in trouble one day.”

Brian patted your hand, “Oh darling, I understand. I really don’t mind at all, I’m glad I met you.”

“I’m glad I’ve met you as well.”

He had walked you home, contently explaining the story behind one of the constellations he saw.

He stalled at the door, keeping your hand in his, “So I suppose I’ll see you next week?”

“Absolutely,”

He moved one hand to push a piece of hair out of your face, “Well until then I suppose,”

You leaned up, closing in on him. You felt his hot breath against your cheeks, “Is this okay?”

He nodded, “More than,” And pulled you into him.

He was as gentle in kissing you as he was in everything else, carefully nudging his nose against yours. His mouth was warm and he stroked your mandible, easing deeper into the kiss. He relished in the taste of maraschino cherry from the Roy Roger’s you’d had earlier. You gasped softly as he nipped at your bottom lip, pulling away. The lipgloss he had been wearing was smeared against the corner of your mouth and he carefully wiped at it with his thumb.

David would never let you hear the end of this either.

#Brian May #brian may imagine #brian may x reader #Queen #queen imagine #queen x reader #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody imagines #queen #lennie writes

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ssa-daddyhotchner · 4 years

Text

The Struggle of Loving You - Chapter 1

Chapter Selection

"Hey, y/n Hayley can't watch Jack tomorrow, can you watch him", I couldn't miss class tomorrow. I stood up holding the phone to my ear walking into the kitchen. "Sir, I'm sorry but I have class in the morning. I can't afford to miss it, maybe I can babysit him afterwards, what time would you need me there."

Hotch understood that my classes had to come first.

Hayley doesn't even have a job so why the hell can't she watch him. I get it's my job but how is a mother that is always available suddenly unavailable. "Around 9am", that cut right into my class. I got a glass of water and sat on the counter.

"Hotch I'm sorry, If it were any of my other classes I wouldn't mind but I can't." He sounded stressed, like at this moment he would be constantly running his hand through his hair. "Can you get here after."

"Yeah that works... Hotch- are you alright?" He sighed letting out a very exhausted, "Yeah... I haven't been sleeping lately." I felt bad for him, he was always being overworked. The man just needed a break, vacation, something.

I turned around checking the clock, I had time. "Are you with Jack?"

"Yeah Hayley's out", with her not there she can't say anything. "How about I come over and take care of Jack and you can get some sleep." I hopped off the counter putting the glass into the sink and heading to my bedroom.

I knew he'd say yes, even if he didn't want to; the man needed rest. "You don't have too", I sat on my bed putting on a pair of shoes and grabbing my keys. "I insist, sir you need sleep. I'll be there in 10 minutes."

I walked out of my apartment to the parking lot, getting into my car. I drove out of the parking spot and drove to Hotch's house. Seeing the clock above the radio I saw the time, 9pm. Technically it wasn't 'late' but to me it was; I was constantly working on my essays and homework. I didn't really have time for anything.

I pulled into his driveway, and knocked on his door. I waited a moment, I heard his footsteps getting closer to the door. He opened the door and he gave me a tired smile.

"Thank you... really."

"It's not a problem, I can tell you're stressed." He walked me into his living room. Jack was asleep on the couch. "Aw he's sleeping, and you couldn't handle it." I saw a smile tug on his lips, "Ha ha, he just got to sleep. I couldn't watch him, I have work I need to finish. Having a five year old that constantly wants your attention and refuses to sleep isn't easy."

I set my bag on the table and sat down making myself comfortable, "Well I got him taken care of, go take care of yourself Hotch." He hung his head low going down the hallway, but peaked around the corner, "I forgot to say there's food in the fridge... help yourself."

I stayed on the couch for an hour before getting up to the kitchen. My stomach growled. I swore you could hear it from outside. Looking in the fridge I saw a container of spaghettis; I took it out and put it into the microwave.

While I waited for that I figured Jack wouldn't be waking up anytime soon. I went over to him and picked him up. His head laid on my shoulder as his light snores filled the hallway.

Going into his room I laid him on the bed and covered him up. I was startled when I heard the front door open and shut. I cautiously peaked around the doorframe to see who it was.

I was relieved when I saw Hayley, but she was acting weird. I whispered leaving Jack's room, "Hayley." Her head turned to me and she squinted her eyes. Was she drunk, "What are you doing here."

"I offered to look after Jack so Hotch could get some sleep." She stumbled over to me, "Oh, ok. Well I'm gonna get some sleep. Feel free to stay as long as you want... Actually can you help me uh." She pointed down the hallway.

I swung her arm around my shoulder, Yeah she was drunk. I could smell the alcohol on her clothes and breath. I set her in bed and he curled up with the blanket. Hotch turned over and saw me standing there, confusion crossed his face.

"What are-", I cut him off pointed down. He saw Hayley and he nodded. I left the room and he followed me, "What are you doing?" I took the food out of the fridge and grabbed a fork.

"One she took the covers and two I was never really sleeping", I thought he was. His eye bags were prominent; I really just wanted to try and help him. "How's school going?"

"Good so far, can't believe I graduate next year. Seems like I've been in school forever." I wanted to be in the FBI. Luckily for me, my 'boss' was in the FBI. "What class are you taking next year?", I didn't know if he actually cared because I knew most of the time people were just asking to be nice.

"Criminology", he seemed genuinely interested. "That's nice, the bureau sometimes has agents teach the class, last year my coworker taught there."

"I don't know but maybe you'll end up being my professor next year." He smiled and nodded his head placing his hands on the counter. "That'd be something, but at least I'd know I had a driven student in my class."

I finished chewing my food and placed the container in the sink and washing it. "I'm a very good student." He walked over to me. "I don't doubt it, you're studying all the time and you never go out." The way he said the last part of the sentence hurt a little bit.

I put the container in the drying rake and dried my hands. Placing a hand over my heart, "Ouch... okay." Hotch chuckled, "What?"

"I don't know just the way you said that made me feel some type of way." Blush rose to my cheeks from smiling so much. "I didn't mean it in a bad way, I think it shows maturity. You have better things to do than party every other day getting drunk."

His face rested, the smile wasn't gone but faded. He was relaxed at the moment, not worrying about anything but what was in front of him. "Very true... well it's getting late. I should probably go."

I grabbed my bag and Hotch walked me to the door. "Thank you again, for coming over. Even if I didn't get any sleep it was still good to have a break." I smiled warmly, "You're welcome."

I stepped off the porch and went to my car, "Oh good luck on the test."

"Thank you", He stayed there watching me, I got into my car and started to drive off. I looked into the rearview mirror and saw him walk back inside. Hotch was making sure I made it out okay, that nothing happened.

I had a small crush on Hotch, nothing I would act on. He had a kid and wife, there was something going on with her though. It was Tuesday, why would she get drunk on a weekday. Even I knew people that wouldn't do that, but she didn't have a job. Hayley barley had any responsibilities.

I arrived at my apartment, heading upstairs. Of course she was up, "Where were you?"

"At Hotchs, he needed some help", I didn't want to tell her I was doing him a favor. She had a habit of overanalyzing things and she'd make it more than what it is. "Okay", she turned around going into her room.

"What are you doing up", I said leaning against her door frame. "Just woke up", I plopped down on my bed too tired for anything. I needed to wake up early tomorrow if I wanted to study a little more beforehand.

Both of our doors were open, "Y/n." Chloe called out. "What."

"Fuck you", I grinned and chuckled. "Fuck you too."

#aaron hotch hotchner #aaron #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #SSA HOTCHNER #hotch #hotchner #Thomas Gibson #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #Criminal Minds

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roniscloud · 3 years

Text

jsb - 302

jung subin [f. 1577 words] 302

from the day you moved into your new apartment, you couldn’t help but notice the cute tenant across the hall from you. you first saw him when you were bringing in the last round of boxes. you left a box in the frame of the door so you wouldn’t get locked out. with the final one, you joyfully kicked open the entry and practically dropped the items from your arms, ready to be done with unloading from your cramped car. standing in the doorway, looking into the quaint one-bedroom loft, you realize you now need to unpack and organize everything. you thought about a game plan, opting to get some food before starting. you turn your head to look to the hall outside, catching a glimpse of someone entering the apartment on the other side.

you’ve never properly met him. hell, you don’t even know his name, only referring to him as 302—the brass number adorning his wooden door. yet, you know he always gets subway for lunch every tuesday, take-out from the ramen bistro down the street every friday, and goes to dinner with his friends every other saturday night. you know he has two pets, a cat and a dog. you know that he likes to go on early morning walks on sundays if the weather is nice and that he usually leaves, for what you assume would be work, at 7:30 am sharp. even with all of the trivial things you know about him, you somehow still had no idea what his name was. funny how that works.

little to your knowledge, subin—the nameless next-door neighbor—thought the same thing. he thought it was hysterical that he didn’t know his new neighbor’s identity—opting for the nickname, 303—but somehow knew that they were a night-owl who loved ordering a large pizza every thursday and strictly bought groceries on the second sunday of each month.

it wasn’t until about almost 4 months of you living in that loft till you crossed paths. it was bound to happen, right? you found yourself entering the building after a long day, on the phone with a close friend. you aimlessly press the button for the elevator, not looking up and waiting for the doors to open. a presence is made on your right, but you pay no attention, too caught up in your conversation, too busy to notice that it’s subin. your friend is rambling on and on about your favorite k-drama, “one spring night”.

“i get that, but hear me out. jeongin’s sister should just leave him already. she deserves better and there is no way that deadbeat jackass would be a good father, not like jiho is for his son.” your quarrel catching the attention of subin. “what do you mean by that? jiho sacrificed everything because eunwoo’s mom is no longer in the picture. even if he can’t be there 24/7, he still gives his all for his son.”

your argument continues till you reach your door. you nestle your phone onto your shoulder, sandwiching it there with the side of your head. you reach into your bag to pull out your keys. “yeah, whatever. i’m home anyways. i’ll talk to you later. i need to order some food, i’m starving.” a light chuckle comes from you with the last words. you exchange goodbyes, hanging up the call. you turn the key and open the door. you’re interrupted with a small voice behind you.

“excuse me… were you possibly talking about ‘one spring night’? i didn’t mean to eavesdrop, i just really love that show.” bright eyes and an even brighter smile are what your eyes see as you turn to answer.

you blink a few times and swallow. this is it. this is him. you stumble to find the words, “oh… uh… yeah. my friend and i are both watching it and i guess… we’re just really passionate about it.”

“i mean it is really good, hard to stop watching.” this time he’s the one laughing. his voice resonating in your ears like honey, his giggle being oh so sweet. “now that i think about it, i’m pretty sure we’ve never actually met. i’m subin.”

you introduce yourself. not knowing what else to say other than your name and that it was nice to finally meet him. he shyly apologizes for never approaching you and not giving you a proper welcome to the complex. you tell him that it’s fine and that there’s no reason to worry.

after that night, you seem to always see each other, always flashing a polite grin to one another. sometimes, you’ll stop in the hallway to dish about the newest show you both are hooked on. until one day, he notices you go to work like every morning, but you’re not back by your typical time. you haven’t formally addressed each other as friends yet, but it comes like second-nature to him to feel anxious. he paces back and forth in his kitchen, checking the peephole everytime he hears the faintest of noises in the hall. you usually get home at 5:37, pushing 6:21 if you decide to get dinner on the way. it’s almost quarter to ten when he hears keys jangling. his neck whips around immediately, not even checking if it’s you, just rushing to open the door. “where have you been?” the worry way too evident in his tone.

“oh… were you waiting for me? i’m sorry if i worried you. i had a dinner with someone, you know how that goes. blind date.” you roll your eyes at the mention of your coworker’s doing.

he sighs loudly. “how’d it go?”

“he was… nice, not sure i see myself dating him, but hey… it’s only the first date.”

“so, there’s going to be a second?”

“maybe, still not sure. we don’t really click.”

“well, you never know. people can surprise you. i should probably head back inside. have a goodnight.”

“you too…”

from then, your coworker keeps setting you up with other people. unfortunately, no one ever being a good match. by the fifth? sixth one? who knows at this point? you’re pretty much done with these stupid outings, but you’re not one to say no to a friend who’s trying to do a favor. you grab the last of your things as you make your way out. not even stepping all the way into the hallway are you met with subin’s voice.

“again, seriously?”

“you know me… how am i supposed to turn it down?”

“by saying that you’d rather not go on a date, by saying you’re not looking for a relationship right now, by telling your friend that maybe you’d rather find someone on your own…” he states in a teasing tone. “why go on another shitty date when you can spend the night with me, binge-watching our favorite tv shows and drinking cheap beer?”

“at this point, i’d consider that the best idea anyone has ever had. i’ll text them saying an emergency came up and that i can’t make it.” he opens his door wider to let you in.

an hour and a half later, you find yourself slightly buzzed and on the fourth episode of a new drama. “boo, can they stop pining over each other and kiss already?”

“subin, calm down. they literally just started getting close.”

“but- but they-”

“i know, i know. i want them to get together already too, but we have to wait.” you turn your attention back to the screen situated higher up on the wall. “look, they’re at least sitting closer now. before they couldn’t even hold eye contact for two seconds.” he’s quiet, not trying to refute your observation. “subin? are you even watching?” your gaze meets his. “hello? earth to jung subin. i asked if you were watching…”

“you remember the night we met? what you were talking about? how you said the sister deserved better than the jackass? well, you do too. you deserve better than those guys.”

“how much did you drink? i think you might want to slow down on those beers.” you laugh at his expression, the smile not leaving your lips.

“please, stop smiling at me like that. i’m not sure what will happen if you keep doing that.”

“alright, now i’m sure you drank too much.” you’re flustered at how straightforward he is. “i think it’s time i go.”

“wait, no. look, i’m sorry. i wasn’t thinking. i just- i really do think you deserve better.”

“and who and where is exactly is better?”

“me. right now, whenever.”

your jaw drops. did subin just confess? did your heart just skip a beat? is he telling the truth or is it just the alcohol and mood talking? “tell me that again when you’re sober. for now, i’m leaving. i’ll see you in the morning.”

you’re woken up with your phone ringing. you see the contact, 302, appear. your groggy morning voice answers. you hear subin ask you to come out. you reach your entryway, opening it to see a wide-awake neighbor. “you deserve better.”

“huh… so you weren’t kidding?”

“nope.” he nods his head firmly, pouting his lips.

“well… if you really think that, let me go back to sleep. you can come in, maybe cuddle, who knows? i just need sleep.” he follows you in, reaching his hand down to hold yours and bring it up to kiss the back of it.

originally written: 26 november 2020

#subin #jung subin #subin fluff #jung subin fluff #subin imagine #subin imagines #subin fic #subin fics #subin blurb #subin blurbs #victon #victon subin #victon fluff #victon imagines #victon fics #victon blurbs

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angelanimedesaray · 4 years

Note

Can I get a modern AU Levi scenario where reader and Levi are coworkers and Erwin and Hanji are trying to set them up knowing Levi has a crush on reader?

I really like ur stories btw!! <3

AN: Thank you so much--I’m glad you like them!!

So...I have never done a coffee shop AU...now is THE PERFECT OPPORTUNITY. This occurred to me when I sat there after reading this trying to figure out what job they shared. So yes, I’m going cliché for this one because I can’t resist the opportunity to FINALLY DO IT!!! Also, in a way, its also Levi finally getting his tea shop (Cries softly behind the laptop screen).

Okay, quick rundown of who does what and where so I don’t have to spend time on it in the fic: Levi--Owner of the coffee shop--though he also works there. he doesn’t deal with the people, though, just makes the drinks, namely the teas. Erwin--Business Partner, mainly the one who made the money work to get the store open and running. He also works in the back in the little bakery/kitchen he convinced Levi to incorporate so it wasn’t just drinks and there was something to eat as well. Hange--Cashier. She’s the bubbly chatty on that people get to interact with and deal with. Occasionally helps with the drinks if its busy and she has a moment. You--Pick Up Counter/Waitress and Drinks. You get people their drinks, the second face they see/person they deal with, and you help Levi with the drinks, leaving the teas to him since its his preference and specialty and making whatever else is needed.

Also I don’t know why this ended up feeling like a sitcom...and how we ended up seeing more from Hange and Erwin than Levi and Reader XD

Fanfic One-Shot Request is below the cut.

~*~The Perfect Blend~*~

“They work so well together.”

“I have yet to find a flaw--it’s like perfect harmony. It’s ridiculous and it makes me so jealous.”

“Well there is one flaw.”

“You mean the fact that he hasn’t--?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, I’m running out of ideas of how to fix that, and yours are just getting crazier and crazier.”

“I still suggest we lock them in the back cooler until they can work things out. Maybe we’ll get lucky and for warmth, they’ll--”

“Oi! Eyebrows! Shitty Glasses! The morning rush is going to start any minute now--stop gossiping and get back to work! Erwin, don’t you have another batch of scones still in the oven in the back? Hange--you still haven’t fixed the menu for the new week, get on that! Now!”

Erwin sighed and let out a soft ‘stubborn man’ before he disappeared into the back to make sure the scones were all right. Hange, however, pouted in the face of Levi’s knowing glare.

“Aww, Levi, come on, loosen up a bit! It’s a Tuesday, it’ll probably be really q--”

“AH! Don’t you dare!” you suddenly shouted at her, running through the back room door with a bag of espresso beans in on arm and a box of coffee cup sleeves tucked under the other. “The last time you said the Q word, we had to stay three hours late closing up and cleaning because we didn’t get enough time to breathe, let alone keep the place from turning into a disaster!”

Hange huffed. “That’s just a bunch of superstitious nonsense. Saying a word doesn’t effect whether or not we have a busy day.”

“Speak for yourself--jinxes are a thing,” you returned, getting up in front of the coffee machine and filling up the espresso side. “Also, Levi, we’re out of decaf beans. Well, almost--what’s in the dispenser up here is the last of it.”

“What? I thought there were at least three more bags back there,” Levi said with a frown, turning away from filling his tea assortment up front to look at you with a spark of concern. You didn’t get a lot of decaf orders, but orders were also fairly unpredictable--now that you didn’t have any more, today could be the day for a rash of decaf coffee orders.

“Well, I didn’t see any. I looked everywhere they might be, so unless someone moved it somewhere it shouldn’t be...”

Levi sighed, following you into the back to help see if the two of you could find the missing bags of beans. Once they disappeared from sight, Erwin stuck his head out the little window into the kitchen for communication between the front and back, one of the sliding doors in the back of the glass display cases for the baked goods open with a tray of scones sliding into place before he gave Hange a pointed look, brought his hands together with his palms faced outwards before he gave an exaggerated pushing motion.

“I know I’m usually the one for the crazy impulsive things, but we really shouldn’t lock our two drink makers in the cooler right before the rush hour,” Hange said with a sigh. “And it was such a perfect opportunity, too...”

“Did you hide the coffee beans?”

“Maybe.”

“You should have done it near the end of the rush when no one was looking. Then they might have gone looking for it when we could afford to shove them in a freezer for a while.”

“Erwin, you’re starting to sound like me.”

“It’s been a year and a half, Hange, I’ve lost my patience for this, it’s getting ridiculous.”

“We might have to stage a straight up intervention. Before that, do you think we could set them up on a blind date? Do you think they’d take that bait?”

“Levi knows what we’ve been doing, he’d see right through it...Hange, it’s taking them a while, where did you hide the beans?”

“In my car. They’ll never find them until I want them to. What if we just tell Y/N? Shorty obviously isn’t going to make the first move, so maybe try to get her to?”

“No, I don’t think she will make the first move, either, they’re both too damn shy. Hange, you should probably smuggle those back inside, it really is almost time for the morning rush, and we might need it.”

“Don’t worry about the beans, you just worry about your pastries.”

Erwin raised an eyebrow at her tone, noting that she was pretty much standing in the same place she’d been in when Levi snapped at them for gossiping when they should have been working. “Don’t you have a menu to update.”

“Pfft,” she replied, looking like she was about to laugh it off before a now disgruntled Levi appeared through the back room doors, and she slunk away to at least look like she’d been doing it all this time.

“Just keep Hange up to date on how much decaf we have left so she knows when to stop selling it. When it’s out, it’s out,” he was telling you, going back to his little section behind the corner where he would stay during the rush to make the teas. The door opened with a quiet whoosh, and Hange scrambled down from where she’d been scrawling the new specials for the weak on the chalkboard menu so she could wait on the customer that had just walked in.

And just like they’d been anticipating, the rush began a few minutes later after the first arrival.

When there was a lull in the constant flow of business that constituted your morning rushes, Erwin poked his head out of the back to gesture you over to him.

“Y/N, I need a second pair of hands back here, just for a second. Hange, can you--?”

“On it!” Hange said cheerily, taking over your position behind the coffee bar while you hurried into the kitchen to help Erwin with whatever he was having trouble with.

Surprisingly, when you came into the kitchen, it didn’t look like he had anything going. And looking over at the glass sliding back doors to the pastry shelves, it looked like everything was appropriately stocked. He didn’t look like he was in the middle of cleaning--everything looked spotless, his supplies neatly organized and filled...so why were you back here?

Erwin turned to face you fully once the kitchen door swung shut behind you, heaving a sigh as he wiped the remnants of flour on his hands off on his apron. “Listen, Y/N, Hange and I have been talking about how to go about this subtly for a while now, and I’m of the opinion that subtlety isn’t going to work, so--”

“You two are dating!” you gasped, interrupting him with a flash of excitement. With all the whispering between the two and the times they would stow away leaving you and Levi alone to do who knew what, it made you start to wonder. Especially with the little glares you caught Levi giving them every now and then, like he knew what they were up to and didn’t approve for some reason--or at least didn’t approve of it during working hours.

Erwin blinked, taken aback for a moment before he regained that unfaltering composure of his. “Ah, no. We’re not. We can discuss where you got that idea later, but right now, we need to keep this quick before another rush comes in. Do you like Levi?”

You let out a startled laugh at his question, for a moment believing he might be messing with you before you saw the serious look in his eyes. “Do I...um...Why, why would you need to know that?” you asked, a blush starting to creep up in your face.

Yes, yes you did like Levi. But you tried not to think too much about it. He was kind of your boss as much as your coworker, and those thoughts, that you didn’t think were returned, would only be distracting if you let them slip through while you were working together. And you two worked well together, like clockwork, perfectly in sync behind the counter no matter how fast paced and complicated business got. You were rather proud of it, actually. And you didn’t want to disrupt that, afraid to cause a ripple, or rather a wave, in the calm waters between you two if the feeling wasn’t reciprocated.

And sure, Levi and Erwin owned the place, it was a small privately owned business, not some franchise, so maybe a workplace romance wouldn’t be some big HR mess here, but if something did happen, and then something went wrong, it might ruin the good thing you all had going on here.

“I’m asking because Hange and I are certain that Levi likes you, as well,” Erwin said, clearly deciding based off your reaction that you did like him. Especially after he just outed how Levi felt about you like that, your eyes widening as you stared blankly at him. “But both of you are two shy and stubborn to do anything yourselves, and Levi’s been resistant to any of our nudges to get him to make any kind of move. We’re both at the point of locking you two in a room together until you both come clean, but, this is probably the much more tacit and practical approach. I figured if Levi won’t make a first move, perhaps you should just be told up front, so maybe you will.”

What you were not aware of, was that a few feet away from where Erwin and you were having your conversation, Hange was doing something similar with Levi as the two of them made coffees and teas, speaking around the moments where she had to pause and shout out an order or dash off to take a table their drinks to have a much more...to the point conversation with Levi.

“Levi, you’re stubborn, and lovestruck, and it’s too painful to watch you two awkward love birds waddle around blindly like this anymore. You’re worse than children.”

“Hange, we’ve already talked about this, it’s none of your business, stay out of it,” Levi grumbled under his breath, at least taking pains to keep his voice lowered while talking about personal matters at work, even if it was to try and keep Hange quiet.

Hange didn’t care, though, and apparently she wasn’t messing around today, either.

“If you don’t tell her yourself soon, Shorty, I’m going to tell her.”

Levi set down the empty cup he’d just grabbed for another tea a little harder, glaring at Hange with a sharp look. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me. You like her, Levi, and she likes you--it’s obvious. Just ask her to go do something with you, it’s not that hard,” Hange stressed to him, assembling some of the teacups that had Levi’s freshly made tea in them to take out to some of the customers that were sitting in and not grabbing their drinks to go.

“Talk to her,” Hange stressed before taking off with the drinks, a big smile and playful laughter for the guests she entertained along the way.

“It’s not that simple,” he muttered under his breath, keeping his eyes down on the tea he was making as he thought of the ultimatum Hange just gave him. As much as he kept hesitating and doubting himself when it came to confessing how he felt about you, and as much as he struggled to even think of what to say, he did want to finally say something. Every time he tried, though, the words got stuck in his throat, or what he planned to say turned into something else entirely at the last second, something that had nothing to do with telling you how he felt. However, he did /not/ want someone else confessing his feelings to you for him, even if it was meant to push him to act. He wanted to do that himself. So Hange threatening to tell you herself was actually a pretty smart move. He hated how pressured he felt to say something, now, though.

But he really had been taking far too long to get this out between the two of you. It was time he did something about it. Now he just had to do it...even though he had no idea what he was doing. What to say. What they should do. What it would mean. If it would impact the two of you negatively, if it would even work out.

He was getting far too deep into his own head over this. He just needed to...rip the band aid off. Get it out and between the two of you. As soon as Erwin returned you to the front, he would ask...ask...well, he was going to try and ask you out. First he had to make sure you had time, though.

As if on cue, you came out of the kitchen with lightly flushed cheeks, looking preoccupied with your own thoughts as you robotically took your usual spot next to him at the coffee bar. For a minutes, Levi kept glancing at you, suddenly hesitating because of the look on his face. Maybe he shouldn’t say anything, it didn’t look like you were open to conversation even right now. And you seemed a little closed off to him, like you were keeping to yourself for some reason.

Ah, fuck, but if he didn’t do it now, he might chicken out. Or Hange might get impatient and spit it out anyway.

Levi scowled into the cup in front of him as he tried to figure out what to do before he just blurted out the sentence without even looking at you, ironically at the same time you tried to speak to him.

“Levi, can I ask you some--”

“Are you doing anything this week?”

Levi realized he’d just talked right over you, and he immediately started kicking himself, keeping his eyes glued to the tea instead of you as his cheeks started to color and betray his embarrassment as he scrambled for words. Did he apologize? Keep talking? Explain himself? You weren’t saying anything. Wait, were you confused? He knew your schedule--well, your work schedule, he was your boss.

“I mean, besides work--I know when you work, obviously, I just meant--mean...shit...I’m sorry, I interrupted you, um...What did you want to ask?” he said, hating himself more and more as he stumbled through the awkward words, closing his eyes and cursing himself.

“I, um...I was going to ask if you...if you liked...” Levi looked up sharply at you in surprise, heart skipping a beat as he met your gaze. You stuttered at the eye contact, a strange little noise coming out of your throat as your cheeks burned a brilliant shade with the intensity of your blush. “...would like to do something this week, actually. Maybe see a movie, or grab something to eat together or...or go to the library.”

Levi stared at you. “The library?”

Your gaze flickered up at him, appearing to scream ‘I don’t know, I panicked!’ so loud that he didn’t even need to ask.

You were both complete messes, weren’t you?

“We can. Just...just pick a day, and we’ll figure it out from there.”

“Saturday night?”

“I can do that.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

A silence settled over the two of you, and you both went back to what you were doing, butterflies in your stomachs as you snuck glances at each other from the corners of your eyes, Levi trying to hide a subtle, pleased smile, and you brightly beaming but chewing on your lip as if you were trying to rein yourself in and have at least some decency. It didn’t work of course.

Was that entire conversation...really that easy? After all this time?

Hange was leaning against the wall next to Erwin’s little window, both of them staring at the two awkward lovebirds in a mixture of satisfaction and bewilderment.

It was Hange who spoke up.

“I don’t know the bigger pair of idiots are--those two who took so damn long just to say something so simple to each other...or the two of us that didn’t realize that it was as simple as telling them to talk to each other.”

“...You should probably put those beans back before Levi figures out what happened to them.”

“Shut up, you’re the one who wanted to lock them in a cooler,” Hange grumbled, quickly slinking away to try and sneak the decaf espresso beans back into the back storage without Levi noticing.

An endeavor doomed to fail from the start, but at least when he did catch her sneaking back inside with the decaf espresso beans in her arms it was quite a bit of entertainment for the regular customers who knew about Levi’s stricter, surlier attitude and Hange’s antics.

Levi Tags: @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier @whalerus @sunny-flo @thirstyforsometea @hauntedhousecat @peaches-and-clouds

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