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imagineyourworld · 3 years

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The Wife

Wolffe x Fem!Padawan!Reader

Summary: When visiting a backwards village Plo Koon’s Padawan has to pretend to be married to Commander Wolffe in order to get the residents to back off

Warnings: Misogyny, a bit of nudity, a bit spicy making out

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-------

You had been walking for what felt like hours when your Master, Plo Koon, received a message and asked you to join him at the front of the train of walking soldiers.

“(Y/N), my dear, I have some unfortunate news”, he started.

You looked at your Master expectically. Unfortunate news could mean basically anything and you could only hope that it wasn’t anything that would massively complicate your relief mission.

“As you know we’re going to deliver supplies to the Gonchee people here, and we don’t know much about them.” You simply nodded, not wanting to interrupt your Master, who continued just a moment later. “Master Yoda just forwarded me recent information we gained about the Gonchee. It seems they see human women as nothing more than, for a lack of a better word, prices or trophies to be won or taken.”

Your curious expression morphed into one of shock and disgust. Of course you knew that not every planet had the same standards when it came to equality between the sexes, but this level of misogyny was something you hadn’t expected to be confronted with.

“If I had known earlier I would have offered to let you stay on Coruscant or accompany another battalion”, Plo tried to apologize. But you just shook your head.

“It’s quite alright, Master. If I am to be a Jedi knight soon I will have to learn to handle situations such as this one, though I cannot say I am happy.”

Plo put a heavy hand on your shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze. He knew you were capable of handling yourself and could fight off a couple of Gonchee if necessary, but as your Master he still felt responsible and worried for your safety and wellbeing.

“Master Yoda also said that the Gonchee usually don’t bother married women, they consider them to be claimed by their husband.”

You looked up to your Master, expecting him to continue, but he just stared straight ahead, his expression never betraying his thoughts.

“I am not married, though”, you finally said.

“No, you’re not. You’re a Jedi and shouldn’t have attachments”, he answered.

Part of you wanted to correct him. You were not a Jedi, not yet at least. But the other, bigger, part was overjoyed your Master considered you a Jedi and not just a Padawan.

“I suppose I could ask Commander Wolffe to pretend to be your husband. Just for your safety, of course”, Plo continued.

For a fraction of a second you lost your balance, but quickly managed to catch your footing again. He couldn’t know about your crush on Wolffe, could he? Sure, your Master was a great Jedi, strong in the force, and he knew you better than anyone, having raised you like his own daughter, but you have been so careful to hide your feelings for your commander.

“Only if that’s what you want, of course.”

You took a moment to consider the proposition. Feelings aside, it was a good idea. If being ‘married’ would make sure the Gonchee wouldn’t bother you and ensure you could do your job that was a good thing, the rational thing to do.

Finally you nodded. “Only if Wolffe wants to, though. Otherwise I’ll ask Sinker.”

-------

Wolffe hasn’t been watching you and the General, that would be ridiculous. And of course he hasn’t noticed how your hair shines in the sun or how you smile at your Master with love and trust in your eyes. And when Plo Koon asked to talk to him a while later he wasn’t hoping to find out more about your conversation with him, that thought never crossed his mind.

“Wolffe, I have a favour to ask you.”

Wolffe simply nodded. He would to anything for the kind Jedi who treated him and his brothers like actual people, who never showed them anything other than respect.

“Of course, General. What is it?”

“I want you to be married to (Y/N).”

It took all the self control Wolffe could gather not to look at the Jedi, not to blush and not to let his feelings show.

“Is this a test?”, he asked. Though it seemed out of character for Plo, maybe he was trying to get Wolffe to confess his feelings for you. Feelings he had spent months and months trying to deny and repress, feelings that would get him in more trouble than he could ever imagine if anyone were to find out.

“No, no”, the General reassured his Commander. He then told Wolffe about the situation and why he was asking this of him.

Wolffe nodded along with the explanation before finally daring to look at Plo.

“Did (Y/N) suggest me as her fake husband?”, he asked, trying his best to keep his voice even and steady. He knew it was a arisky question that might tell the Jedi more about his feelings than he should know, but he couldn’t help but wonder and he wouldn’t agree if you would rather be fake married to one of his brothers instead of him.

“It was my idea, though she seemed to be quite happy with you as her ‘husband’“, Plo answered in a tone that told Wolffe the Jedi had to be smiling under his mask. “I just thought you were the obvious choice, considering how close the two of you are.”

Wolffe nodded, not knowing what to say.

“That makes sense”, he finally said.

Plo looked at the young man next to him. Though Wolffe’s expression was usually stoic, now it was even more so. It seemed forced, as if he was trying his best not to let any feelings show. The General couldn’t help but realize just how similar the clone’s expression was to yours just a bit earlier.

“Maybe you should go to (Y/N) to discuss how you’re going to handle the situation. I’ll inform the others to play along”, Plo suggested after a few moments of awkward silence and with a quick “Yes, sir” Wolffe turned around to find you amidst the soldiers.

-------

By the time you were nearing the village, you and Wolffe had just finished your plan.

“Let’s go over it one last time”, he suggested.

You opted not to tell him that that would be the third ‘one last time’, partly because you knew he didn’t like being corrected and would not hesitate so snap at you, partly because going over this plan like any other mission made it easier for you to let it sink in that this was just that, a plan, a mission, pretend. You were not married to Wolffe, nor would you ever be. The two of you were friends, nothing more. Because no matter how you felt, how you’ve been feeling for quite some time now, you could never be together, even on the off chance that Wolffe reciprocated your feelings.

“The Gonchee don’t know anything about Jedi, other than that we’re here to help, so they won’t find our ‘marriage’ suspicious. We’ll them we met at the beginning of the war and have been married for a couple of months. Really, Wolffe, it’s not that complicated, I’m sure we’ll both be able to remember to play the part.”

The snark reply you had been expecting didn’t come. Instead Wolffe simply nodded and stared straight ahead.

“Just remember to keep physical contact to a minimum”, he reminded you for the fifth time.

You rolled your eyes. Sure, Wolffe had never been one for hugs and cuddling, unlike many of his brothers, who often seeked you out for a comforting hug, but he really didn’t have to tell you to keep your hands to yourself every couple of minutes, you were not some hormonal teenager.

“Will do, Commander.”

Without another word, or even so much as a nod, Wolffe speeded up his steps to join Master Plo at the front.

“What’s gotten into your husband?”

You turned around to find Sinker looking at you with an amused expression, Boost right beside him sporting a smug grin.

“Guess he’s just not too thrilled about being fake married to me”, you tried to joke, even though just the thought hurt more than you cared to admit. Of course you knew nothing could ever happen between you, but you’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t hoped that this mission would allow you to pretend for just a little while, to maybe get closer to him.

“If he really didn’t want to do it, he wouldn’t do it. I heard him talking to the General, Plo asked him, he didn’t order him. Wolffe could have stepped down and let one of us take his place. And I’m sure most of us would have happily done so”, Boost claimed, laying a hand on your shoulder and sending you a warm smile.

Maybe it would have been better to do this with someone else, someone who would put his arms around you to really sell the story and who you could laugh about the whole affair with afterwards. And yet you knew that being in a ‘relationship’ with anyone other than Wolffe would have been worse than Wolffe’s obvious dislike of the whole situation.

“It’s fine. Wolffe’s just being Wolffe, he’ll come around once we arrive at the village”, you tried to reassure both the troopers and yourself.

-------

Wolffe had, in fact, not come around by the time you reached the village. He had spent the rest of the way talking to your Master and completely ignoring you. It was moments like this that made you question why you even had feelings for him, he was so hot and cold, sending you gentle smiles and sharing inside jokes one moment and acting like you didn’t even know each other the next. But it was those few moments when his gentler side, which you alway thought was more his true self, showed, that kept you hooked.

It was Plo Koon who interrupted your thoughts by asking you to join him and Wolffe at the front to greet the Gonchee.

The small creatures were no bigger than Jawas, had greenish fur and ears that reminded you of Loth cats, other than that they looked pretty human.

“Good evening. I am General Plo Koon, these are Commander (Y/N) (Y/L/N), Commander Wolffe and the 104th. We were sent by the Republic to deliver supplies and help you reset your village.”

The Gonchee at the front, who seemed to be an older man, bowed his head slightly, the others, all male you realized, followed suit.

“Welcome, Jedi Koon. I see you have brought a female with you, I don’t suppose she’s here to stay with us?”

The way he licked his lips with his yellow tongue made you shudder. You could sense resentment practically rolling off your master at the Gonchee’s words, but more than that it was Wolffe’s arm around your shoulder that calmed you.

“My wife will most certainly not stay with you, she’ll be by my side, always.”

Maybe you imagined that his arm tightened around you as you leaned into him, but you certainly didn’t imagine the growl coming from his throat as the Gonchee looked you up and down.

“Such a shame. Having a human woman is an honor to us, you know and this one seems to be a fine specimen. You’re lucky to have her.”

Though his words sounded as if he was buying your lie and letting go of the thought of having you, whatever that meant, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe that he, or any other male Gonchee, would leave you alone. Not even Wolffe looking at you from the side, a small smile on his lips, could relief you of your anxiety.

“I feel like the luckiest man in the galaxy every minute I have her next to me.”

His words were directed at the Gonchee, but somehow they felt like more. Like something one would whisper to a lover in private.

It was only when Plo spoke up again that you could tear your eyes away from Wolffe, from his warm gaze and full lips.

“The men will bring in the supplies now, if you’ll allow, and then we’ll settle for the night.”

The Gonchee at the front nodded.

“Of course, of course. Though the lady should stay with the other women. You see, we don’t allow women to do any physical labour.

-------

Several Gonchee had offered to accompany you to the hut the women of the village spend most of their time in, but you had declined. That didn’t mean you could go alone, however. The entire 104th seemed to have noticed the glances the male Gonchee shot you and had silently agreed to never let you out of their sight while you were in the village. Which is how you found yourself with your hand in the crook of Wolffe’s elbow, being lead to the ‘women’s hut’ as it was called.

“I’ve been to many planets and have met people of many cultures, but none of them were as backwards as the Gonchee. If they could see you in action they would know not to look at you like that”, your companion grumbled.

You swallowed down the urge to tell him that quite a few shinies have made their moves on you in the past, though you had shot all of them down and had to admit that none of them reduced you to your body the way the Gonchee did.

“It’s only for a couple of days. It’ll be like a mini vacation for me, not having to do any work.”

You could feel Wolffe eying you from the side but refused to look his way.

“I wish I could stay with you”, he said, more to himself than to you. “I mean someone. I wish someone, one of us, could stay with you.”

You chuckled. It was rare to see this side of Wolffe, the side that corrected his words, that stuttered and almost seemed nervous.

“I’d like you to stay. But you have a job to do and I can defend myself, should anything happen.”

You placed a hand on his arm, and though you were sure he couldn’t feel it through the plastoid armor, he seemed to relax just a little bit.

“We both know that I can take care of myself. Besides, it’s only for a couple of hours, I’ll be with you again before you know it.”

He nodded, but the frown never left his face entirely.

“I’ll have someone come in and check on you every now and then. It’s not without reason that we have to pretend to be married, we cannot be careful enough.”

Wolffe’s tone told you that there was no use in arguing. And maybe he was right, if even your Master, who you knew would never disregard your ability to fend for yourself, thought it would be safe to always have a man, to always have Wolffe, with you, it couldn’t hurt to be safe rather than sorry.

“Sounds reasonable.”

Just as soon as the words left your mouth you stopped in front of the the small building the Gonchee had told you to go to. It looked ancient and primitive compared to the skyscrapers on Coruscant and shining starships you were used to, but through the open door you could spot pillows and blankets and a roaring fire inside. At least you’d be comfortable.

The women inside seemed to have heard you approaching, because most of them stopped their work and conversations to catch a glance at you and Wolffe.

“I guess this is it”, you said more to yourself than your fellow Commander. He nodded nonetheless.

“Be careful. Don’t do anything reckless.”

You tried your best to swallow any remark since your usual answer to something like that would be exactly what Wolffe would describe as “reckless”.

“I’ll see you soon”; you replied instead. And because you could still feel the eyes of the Gonchee women on you, you lifted yourself up on your tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to Wolffe’s cheek. After all, you had to make your marriage believable.

The low noise Wolffe made shocked you for a split moment. It was a mixture between a grunt and a sigh that didn’t speak of surprise as much as... disbelief? You couldn’t quite place it. Though you tried not to think about it too much as your turned away from him and entered to hut, where the women started questioning you immediately.

-------

True to his word Wolffe had sent someone of the pack to check in on you every ten minutes or so, but despite their reports that you were perfectly fine and just talking to the women of the village, Wolffe only felt a sense of relief when he saw you again himself.

You were sitting next to Sinker on one of the many logs surrounding the fireplace. The rest of the pack as well as Plo Koon were either on logs or the ground nearby while the Gonchee, mostly the men but a few women as well, sat on the other side of the fire.

As Wolffe stepped closer you lifted your head, and as always he couldn’t tell whether you had heard his footsteps or felt his force signature.

The old Gonchee who had greeted you was the first to speak up.

“Ah, the husband returns. Such a shame, I had thought I might have a chance with that lovely woman of yours after all.”

Wolffe knew that the polite thing to do would be to answer him, but one of the first things General Koon taught his men was that it was better to say nothing at all if you didn’t have anything nice to say. So he simply walked over to where you were sitting and squeezed himself into the space between you and the end of the log, which resulted in you being squished between him and Sinker. A scenario Wolffe, being the overly protective man he is, usually wasn’t too fond of, but in this the more of the Wolfpack were around you, the better.

It was only when he felt you moving impossibly closer to him, when he smelled the last clinging bit of your sweet perfume, that had somehow endured the walk to the village and your time in the women's’ hut, that he was finally able to relax. You’d be right next to him, or at least one of his brothers or the General, for the rest of the night, meaning you were safe from the Gonchee for now.

Suddenly he felt your lips right next to his ear, your breath hitting his skin.

“If we wanna sell this marriage you cannot just sit there like a droid, Wolffe.”

The way you whispered, almost purred, his name made shivers run down his spine. And though he tried to suppress it, your soft giggle told him that you’d noticed.

With a small sigh he put his arm around your waist and pulled you even closer to him. So close that he could practically feel your body melting into his, though he tried not to think about how right it felt to have you in his arms, how your body seemed to perfectly fit right next to his.

“Is this better?”, he whispered in your ear. Out of the corner of his eye he could see you biting your lip and even pressing your thighs together. He shook his head, he must have imagined that. It was probably just you trying to get comfortable in this new position.

“How long have to two of you been married?”, one of the younger Gonchee asked.

For just a moment you tensed beneath Wolffe’s arm before relaxing again.

“Just a couple of months”, you replied. Your smooth lie impressed Wolffe, being raised by Plo Koon you were usually a fan of telling the truth and he couldn’t help but wonder where you learned to lie like that.

“And you let your wife fight?”, another Gonchee asked, the disbelief clear in his voice.

Wolffe sneaked a glance at you. How could anyone look at you and not see a warrior? Sure, your appearance might not be the most threatening, but wasn’t it obvious that the way you pressed your lips together spoke of determination? That you eyes told anyone who looked into them how much you’ve been through and how deeply you cared? That your hands were calloused from holding a lightsaber and yet soft enough to comfort a clone in distress?

“It’s not up to me whether she fights or not.”

A grumble of disagreement was heard from the assembled Gonchee, or at least from the men.

“We are very fortunate to have a warrior as great as (Y/N) fighting besides us every day”, the General said after a while. For anyone who knew him it was obvious that he was trying to end the subject while defending you at the same time, but the Gonchee seemed to think of his statement as a challenge.

“But what about children? How will she carry children if she is fighting?

From the way your shoulders tensed underneath Wolffe’s arm he could tell that you were close to telling the Gonchee of once and for all, and apparently SInker on your other side could tell as well, because now he jumped into the conversation.

“They’re still newly weds, children can wait until the honeymoon phase is over, don’t you agree?”

The oldest Gonchee leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

“We do not care for such sentiments. Our women cook our food, sow our clothes, take care of our children and warm our beds, believe me, it’s easier that way. Perhaps you should try it, Commander.”

For what felt like the thousandth time that day Wolffe looked at you. Of course you knew that you had to represent the Republic wherever you went, but usually that didn’t stop you from speaking up for what’s right. He wasn’t sure whether he should be impressed by or concerned about your self restraint.

“It’s very different in our culture. We marry for love, most of the time at least”, you finally said. And if he hadn’t been staring at you already Wolffe would never have noticed the way your eyes flitted over to him when you said “love”.

Several of the Gonchee opened their mouth to argue, but lucky for the entire 104th a few women carrying trays with various foods and drinks appeared and rendered the men silent.

-------

Shortly after a near silent meal your Master stood up.

“I suppose it would be best for us to call it a night. We will have to be up early tomorrow if we want to reach out ship again before nightfall.”

The Gonchee leader stood up as well and slightly bowed his head before the Jedi.

“Very well. We have prepared our assembly hut for you, I will show you the way.” He stopped for a moment and looked over to where you were still sitting between Wolffe and Sinker. “Though I know you follow different customs, we Gonchee do not allow women to sleep in a room with people they’re not related or married to, which is why we have also prepared an empty hut for the Commander and his wife. And I suppose they will need privacy so she can perform her marital duties. My son will show them the way”

You were quite certain that at one point throughout the day your own rank as Commander had been mentioned, but even though you really wanted to correct the old Gonchee, you were tired of dealing with them all day and decided against it. Though the same could not be said for the Wolfpack. Several of them, including Wolffe and Sinker next to you as well as Boost next to Sinker, spoke up to correct him.

A younger Gonchee, who you assumed was said son, stood up and looked at you with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Alright, Commanders”, he said. The ironic way in which he pronounced the word made Wolffe roll his eyes, which by now you could tell even if you weren’t looking at him. “Follow me.”

The two of you bid goodnight to the others and did as the Gonchee had said. The thought of probably having to share a bed with Wolffe crossed your mind for a moment, but it was gone as soon as it came. Though as soon as the son opened the door to a small hut, smaller than any you had seen before, it returned.

The ceiling was low, the room was small and the only pieces of furniture were a small bed and a single bedside table.

“It’s not much but it’ll do for the night”, the Gonchee said. Though the words were probably supposed to be apologetic, his tone was anything but.

Wolffe, bowing his head due to the low ceiling, stepped into the hut while you remained outside. That, however, proved to be a mistake just a moment later, because the Gonchee stepped closer, closer than you would have wanted, and looked up at you.

“You might rather spend the night in my room, it’s bigger and more comfortable and I could really use someone in my bed, especially a pretty human woman such as yourself.”

Due to his words and the way he eyed you, especially with your private parts almost in his eyeline because of his short height, you wanted nothing more than to punch him. Maybe kick him. Maybe cut off something of his with your lightsaber. And if it hadn’t been for Wolffe you would have, and ruined your mission within a split second.

But there was Wolffe, knight in plastoid armour protecting you from any rash decisions. He had left the hut and was now standing behind you, from where he put his arms around your middle and, you were sure, glared daggers at the Gonchee.

“I suggest you leave my wife alone”, he growled and tightened his grip on you even more.

You weren’t sure whether it was his words, the growl or his arms around you and your back to his chest, but something about his behaviour did something to you. Something that would make it a million times harder to share a room, share a bed, with him tonight. As if your crush on the Commander wasn’t already bad enough...

“I thought in your culture you love the one you marry and if you love this woman you wouldn’t want her to miss out on spending a night with a real man, would you?”

If the situation wasn’t so tense you would have laughed. A real man? He was covered in fur!

“Wolffe gives me everything I need and more. I wouldn’t leave him for any man in the entire galaxy.”

It was only when the words left your mouth that you realized just how true they were. You really had to get that under control, having a crush on your fellow Commander was bad enough, you would not allow yourself to actually fall in love with him. You couldn’t jeopardize your friendship, your future as a Jedi knight, everything and everyone you’ve ever known for a man who you knew thought of you as a friend.

The Gonchee looked you up and down one last time before glaring at Wolffe.

“Then I suppose I should bid the two of you good night.”

And without another word he turned around and left the two of you alone.

As soon as he was gone Wolffe let go of you and put some distance between you.

“You should lie down, you must be tired after dealing with those idiots all day.”

His words made you turn around to face him. Once again you just couldn’t read him. One moment he made your heart beat faster by actually acting like your husband and the next he pretended like you were nothing more than acquaintances. But for once you grew tired of this behaviour and refused to oblige, instead you stepped closer to him again and put a hand on one of the arm he had crossed across his chest.

“I’m sure you’re just as tired, if not more. Let’s both go to bed.”

He raised one eyebrow, but other than that he didn’t make a move to break contact with you again.

“There’s only one bed.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, a gesture you had often copied from Wolffe himself.

“I know that. But we’re old enough and trust each other enough to sleep in the same bed for one night”, you argued. You didn’t know what made you do it, but you couldn’t resist the urge to lean even closer, stand up on your tiptoes and whisper into his ear. “You’re my husband, after all. And husband and wife usually sleep in the same bed. And how else are you supposed to protect me from the Gonchee?”

You were too close to his ear to actually see his face, but you were sure he was smirking as he scoffed.

“I thought you were plenty capable of handling the Gonchee yourself, Commander.”

The way he said your title did something to you you’d rather not investigate any further. He was teasing, of course he was, but though two could play that game you were simply too tired.

“Just join me in bed when you’re ready. Otherwise you’ll have to sleep on the cold floor and I’ll have to explain to Master Plo why his Commander is sore all over tomorrow.” You could have left it at that, you should have, but you just had to add one more sentence. “And I can think of more pleasant ways to make you sore.”

As you left him standing and entered the hut you could hear a choked noise coming from him.

-------

“Finally decided to join me?”, you teased when Wolffe slipped underneath the cover.

Wolffe didn’t answer. He couldn’t think of an answer, couldn’t think at all. Not with you so close, laying beside him, trusting him to sleep next to you, to defend you if any of the Gonchee were to try something while you were in your most defenseless state.

“Wolffe”, you whispered after a moment of silence.

Now he had no choice but to answer.

“What is it?”, he grunted. And instantly regretted his gruff reply. This was his one chance to have you close, to forget that there was no way the two of you could ever be more than friends.

“Thank you, for today. And tonight. I’m glad you’re my ‘husband’.”

Wolffe wasn’t good with words, but in that moment he really had no idea what to say.

“It really showed us what we’re missing, didn’t it? The chance to be in love, to be married and not have to hide your feelings”, you continued.

For a second Wolffe’s heart stopped beating. Could you be talking about him not having to hide your feelings or was is just a general statement? Or did you maybe mean that you... No, that was impossible.

“Anyways, we should get some sleep now, we have an early start tomorrow”, you concluded.

From then on it only took a few seconds for your breathing to even out and just was Wolffe was about to sigh in relief that he no longer had to pretend that being near you wasn’t affecting him, you rolled over from your back onto your side and were now pressed up against Wolffe.

It wasn’t just his heart that stopped now, his breathing did as well. How could he move even to take another breath with you so close, with your head resting underneath his chin, your legs intertwined with his and your arm lazily thrown over his torso.

“Damn it”, he mumbled, though he instantly came to regret having made a sound. Luckily you were still fast asleep, if anything you cuddled up even closer to Wolffe.

Slowly, more careful than he had ever been, he lifted his own arm to wrap it around your waist and pull you even closer. He let out a content sigh, breathing in the scent of your shampoo in the process.

Wolffe knew for a fact that he wouldn’t get any sleep that night. This was his one chance to share a bed with you, and even though he would have loved to fall asleep and wake up next to you, he preferred cherishing every second of the night.

-------

The next morning you were woken up not by the sun shining directly in your face, nor Wolffe’s sort snoring or the birds chirping outside, but by the unfamiliar voices speaking in what you recognized as the language of the Gonchee.

You decided that it might be best to pretend to still be asleep, which is why you moved even closer to Wolffe and buried your head underneath his chin. In turn he pulled you closer to him, which made you realize that he had had one arm around you the entire time. You were almost too distracted by the warm and comforting presence of Wolffe next to you and the safety his arm around your waist guaranteed to notice that his breathing changed as he slowly woke up. Though like you Wolffe must have decided not to make it known that he was awake, it was only the more uneven breaths and the stiffening of his body that made it obvious.

“Might I ask why you have invaded my commanders’ privacy?”, a familiar voice cut through the Gonchees’ conversation. And though you knew that it was safe to ‘wake up’ not that Plo Koon was here, both you and Wolffe still pretended to be fast asleep. Which had nothing to do with the fact that you simply didn’t want to face a reality where you weren’t cuddling in bed with Wolffe, nothing at all.

“We... I....”, one of the Gonchee stammered.

“We were here to wake them up”, another voice, who you recognized as the leader’s son, tried to explain.

You both heard and sensed you master coming closer, and though part of you was worried what he may say, or worse think, about the position you and Wolffe were in, the bigger part was comforted by the fact that the Gonchee were either afraid enough or had enough respect for the Jedi to hurry out of the hut within seconds.

“I know you’re awake.” Your Plo’s voice sounded amused rather than mad, though to be fair, in all your years of being his Padawan you had only seen him angry a handful of times, and almost never at you.

It took a lot of self-restraint to fight the urge to cuddle closer to Wolffe for one last second before opening your eyes, but you managed. In moments like these you really wished Plo wouldn’t have to wear a mask, it would make it worlds easier to guess his feelings if you could just see his face.

“I take it the two of you slept well?”, he asked. “The Gonchee certainly seemed to think so.”

You didn’t know what to say. Was there anything you could say without letting either Wolffe or Plo Koon know just how well you slept with your fellow commander by your side? How much you never wanted to go to sleep without him in your arms again and how much you already missed him, now that he was just a few centimeters away?

“Did you understand them, sir?”, Wolffe asked. It didn’t escape your notice that he didn’t answer the question either, though that could simply be due to the fact that Wolffe despised small talk, even with the man who was like a father to him.

“I understood enough to know that they believe the two of you to be very much in love. As well as a few comments I’d rather not repeat, or think about ever again”, Plo replied. As he spoke his eyes shifted between you and Wolffe, though you tried your best not to meet his gaze. You knew that he could already tell more than enough about your emotions through your force connection, if he saw your face, saw the love and admiration that must be visible in your eyes, he would know just how much you cared for Wolffe.

“I’ll let you get ready then. Be outside in 10 minutes, we’re leaving in 20.” With those words Master Plo turned around, left the hut and left the two of you alone.

You looked over at Wolffe, who, same as you, was leaning against the wobbly headboard.

“For what it’s worth, I really did sleep well. Better than I had in a long time”, you said with a slight smile on your lips. Maybe this was overstepping a boundary, but right now you didn’t care.

All Wolffe, in a very characteristic yet disappointing, fashion did was nod before standing up and starting to put on the first pieces of his armour. Other than you, who had actually changed into a pyjama while Wolffe had still been outside the hut last night, he had slept in his blacks and didn’t really have to change, or rather undress.

You, however, did. At first you glanced around the hut, looking for some sort of privacy you knew you wouldn’t find. Then you considered your options: You could ask Wolffe to leave, or to simply turn around, while you would change and he’d do it with probably only an amused smile, or you could just change real quick while he was still busy with his armour. In the blink of an eye you decided on the second option, partly because Wolffe, as well as the other clones in the 104th, had seen you bloody and sweaty, with torn clothes and in various states of undress before, either in the medbay or when you had been in a particular hurry, but mostly you just didn’t want to send Wolffe away, not after having spent the night together.

It was only when you had already changed into your regular trousers and just put on your bra when you came to regret your decision.

“What the kriff do you think you’re doing?”, Wolffe asked, his tone mostly shocked, though there was an emotion in there you couldn’t quite decipher.

“What does it look like? I’m changing.”

You had previously had your back turned to Wolffe, but his question, or rather the way in which he asked, gave you the confidence boost needed to turn around and face him.

“Would you rather I went out in my pyjama?”

This trip really was proving to be most unusual, since Wolffe seemed to be speechless.

“Of course not”, he finally said, though his voice did sound a bit off. “But you could have asked me to leave.”

By now you really didn’t know where your confidence was coming from, but as if an autopilot you stepped closer to him, close enough to see the way his eyes, as well as his pupils, widened.

“Maybe I didn’t want you to leave.”

It was a bold statement, and maybe not entirely true, but it seemed to do the trick, since a smirk found its way to Wolffe’s lips. His eyes, previously focused on your eyes, flitted down to your chest for a moment before going back up again.

“Then what is it you wanted me to do?”, he asked. “What do you want?” A clear challenge to either back down or take a leap. A challenge you shouldn’t accept, but found yourself really wanting to.

“I want you to be here, with me. I want you to be with me wherever I go. I want you next to me in bed when I go to sleep at night and when I wake up the next morning. I want you to always look at me the way you’re doing right now. I want you to touch me and kiss me and make me yours. Maker, Wolffe, I want you!”

The words were out of your mouth without thinking. Just like that, you had voiced every thought running through your brain, made yourself vulnerable to Wolffe’s reaction, whatever it might be. Though you had never expected it to be an arm, already covered in plastoid, to wrap around your waist and a hand, warm and steady, on the back of your neck.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that”, he mumbled before crashing his lips against yours.

Though you didn’t have much experience, you knew that this was what a kiss was supposed to be. It was not a clashing of teeth, like your first kiss, nor hesitant and barely there, like your second, but a perfect mixture. Wolffe wasn’t rough, though there was just enough force to tell you that he could be if that’s what you wanted. His lips worked against yours as if they were made to, teeth softly grazing your bottom lip a few times before biting down. He nibbled on your lip, then caressed it with his tongue before giving the same treatment to your top lip. Some time during the kiss your hands had found their way into his hair, pulling it and pulling him closer at the same time, finally feeling the soft strands between your fingers and causing Wolffe to moan at the sensation. By the time his tongue made its way into your mouth you could have sworn that your legs were made of jelly, that you had moved on to whatever came after this life, that this was a dream.

Even when Wolffe pulled away to catch his breath you didn’t dare to open your eyes, afraid of the reality you would find if you did.

You heard Wolffe’s low chuckle before his lips were on you again. This time he gently kissed your cheeks, the corners of your lips, before making his way down. He spread small bites on your jaw and then followed his teeth with his tongue, soothing the slight sting. Though it was a spot high up on your neck, just beneath your jaw, that finally got a reaction from you. You tightened your grip on his hair as his lips ghosted over the spot and moaned when they pressed harder.

“So needy”, Wolffe chuckled.

All you did to reply was pull his head up again for another kiss, one that was faster and more heated than the last. Though as soon as you pulled away his lips found their way to the same spot again. He began to suck while at the same time pulling you back to the bed. You wondered how he had enough sense to sit down and pull you into his lap, all your thinking had abandoned you the moment his lips first met yours.

“Wolffe, I - kriff, stop -”, you panted.

As soon as you said the word he pulled away, though his hands still had a grip on you, it loosened and he looked at you with nothing but love and lust in his eyes.

“What is it, mesh’la?”

For a moment you leaned your forehead against his shoulder before straightening up again and looking at him.

“As much as I’d love for you to leave hickeys all over, we both know that you can’t. No one can know this ever happened”, you told him, making sure to put just enough authority in your voice to make him take you seriously.

A sly grin was on his lips as soon as the words left your mouth.

“I know, cyare”, he reassured you. He leaned closer again, though this time his lips didn’t move to your neck, but to your ear. “But later I’ll mark you in places where no one but me will see.”

The thought alone send shivers down your spine and heat to your core, but it also placed a smile on your face.

“Looking forward to it”, you said and placed a quick peck on his lips. Though you should have known that Wolffe wouldn’t leave it at that. He pulled you closer once again, the hand on your waist now moving upwards and to the front until it cupped your breast. Gently, in stark contrast to the way he bit down on your lip, he squeezed and massaged in before moving on to the other one.

Another moan escaped your lips, this one even louder.

“Careful, we don’t want anyone to hear you, do we?”

You were about to nod in agreement when an idea popped into your head.

“I bet hearing me would make the Gonchee really believe that we’re married.”

Wolffe chuckled as he once again moved his hands to your waist.

“I think they already believe us, cyare.”

-------

It had taken the two of you a while to finally separate and make yourselves look presentable, and only when you heard Sinker calling for the last men to hurry up did you finally leave the hut.

Now, on your way back to the ship, the two of you were finally together again after you had talked to Plo Koon and Wolffe to the other clones for a while.

“You know, I’m really glad it was you I was fake married to”, you confessed in a whisper.

Wolffe’s hand brushed against yours for a second while he chuckled.

“You know, maybe one day we can scratch the ‘fake’.”

He saw the surprise in your eyes as you looked up to him. Truth be told, he hadn’t meant to say that in that moment, but he knew he wanted it to be true. Some day, when the war was over, if you would still want him by your side by then.

“I’d like that. I’d like that very much”, you said with a smile. “But first, I think there’s something else we need to do, once we have some time and privacy.”

Wolffe knew exactly what you were talking about, and though he couldn’t wait to feel you, to hear you and touch you again, he also couldn’t wait for the day he would get to call you his wife for real. Maybe, after such a long time of denying his feelings and then refusing to act on them, this trip to the Gonchee village and pretending to be married had been good for something after all.

I tried to put a little bit of everything (and by ‘everything’ I mean some of my favourite tropes) into this story, I hope you enjoyed it.

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. <3

#wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x reader #wolffe x you #commander wolffe x you #wolffe x y/n #commander wolffe x y/n #commander wolffe imagine #wolffe imagine

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dancingazaleas · 3 years

Text

eren yeager | best friend’s brother (smut)

ok i’m sure this is kind of surprising since i don’t really speak of eren

also no i don’t want to talk about how this is based off of victorious

warnings/notes: cursing, mikasa and eren are brother and sister, drummer!eren, modern au, secret relationship, everyone is 19, nsfw, eventual smut, slight dubcon, slight vouyerism, spanking, clit slapping, degradation, slight praise, choking, tummy bulge, edging, overstimulation, breeding kink, minors dni with this post pls, tell me if i missed anything

you know exactly who’s all going to be home whenever you call mikasa. but you still ask, like you always have, in order to lessen suspicion.

“it’s just me, eren, and zeke. i think zeke has pieck over tonight,” she sighs in slight annoyance, “wanna watch a movie when you come over?”

you tell her yes just as you turn on mikasa’s street. you both hang up with a goodbye, and you feel excitement bubbling in your gut as your car drives you closer and closer to eren. you practically jump out of your car whenever it’s parked on the curb of mikasa’s house.

you squeal while skipping up to the front door, punching in the numbers on the keypad lock without looking. you shut the door quietly after you enter the home, taking in the multiple smells from all three siblings living in the house.

you’ve got to hand it to zeke, he’s got amazing taste. whenever grisha and his mother died, he inherited a lot of money from them and decided to buy himself a home. however, it changed when he found out eren’s mother died and that eren and their adoptive sister, mikasa, would be going into foster care. and with zeke being 19, a legal adult, he managed to fit the roll as a guardian for the two of them. they’ve all lived together for a couple of years now, and you’ve come to enjoy the dynamic between them all whenever you’re staying there for a while.

“oh hey, (name). when’d you get here,” zeke asks whenever you walk into the kitchen, he’s probably getting himself those finger sandwiches he buys himself.

“just now. mikasa in her room,” you stretch and peek over zeke’s shoulder to see what the fridge contains.

“should be. can you get out of my fridge,” he nudges you back with his elbow, which you ignore.

“do you have any baby belle cheese,” you shove him aside with your hip.

“yeah, we do,” you turn to look over your shoulder to see eren walking into the kitchen.

you have to stop yourself from running into his arms, instead starting to rummage through the drawers of the big refrigerator. zeke leaves the kitchen, but you only know that because eren’s front his pressing against your back and warm arms wrap around your waist and his head head rests on your shoulder to whisper in your ear.

“didn’t tell me you were coming over tonight,” he mocks disappointment while you take a baby bell cheese.

“wanted it to be a surprise,” you smile, stepping away from the fridge and opening the packaging of the cheese. eren still clings to you.

“it was a nice surprise,” he kisses at the back of your ear while he squeezes you tight.

you turn your head to look at eren, puckering your lips for a sweet kiss.

eren, not being able to say no to you, obliges and gives you a sweet and lingering kiss on your lips. he pouts whenever you pull away and plop the cheese in your mouth, moving away from him to throw away the wrappings.

“ask mikasa to watch a movie with me,” he requests—more like demands.

“sure,” you nod, “i’ll see you in a few minutes.”

you trudge out of the kitchen and up the stairs, barging into mikasa’s dark room. you watch her jump in her bed, obviously frightened with the abrupt entrance.

“hi hi,” you chant while closing the door behind you, jumping onto her bed next to her.

“you scared me.”

“i know,” you roll your eyes, “wanna watch a movie downstairs?”

“depends... what movie?”

you hum, “maybe the addams family, something like that.”

“yeah, if it’s the addams family then i’ll watch,” she says, scrolling through instagram.

“wanna see if eren will watch,” she asks you while she likes a post by sasha on her phone. the picture was of her, jean, and connie.

“sure, i’ll text him,” you pull out your phone, immediately pulling up eren’s contact and messaging him.

luckily, you’re able to hide the lovey dovey messages sent from eren. you text that mikasa does want to watch a movie and to be downstairs in three minutes.

“he said yea,” eren hadn’t even replied yet.

mikasa and you get off of her bed, making your way down the hallway and down the stairs while talking.

“popcorn?”

“yea, sounds so good right now,” you sigh happily, “we gonna cuddle?”

mikasa snickers at your question, “of course.”

you laugh a little before pushing her in the direction of the kitchen, settling yourself down in the middle on the long sofa. you pull up the addams family on the tv, smiling gently whenever eren comes in the room with his phone in his hands.

“sit at my feet, i’m cuddling with mikasa,” he scoffs at the claim, but puts your legs in his lap.

mikasa comes back into the room with a bowl of popcorn in her hand and some sodas in her hands. she manages to flip the light switch off in the living room while on her way to put everything on the coffee table in front of you. mikasa sits down when you lift your head, welcoming the weight of your head coming down her clothed thighs.

before you start the movie, mikasa asks eren, “do you have rehearsal tomorrow?”

“yeah. jean and annie’ll be here at like 11,” he sighs in slight frustration just as you start the movie.

“sucks for you,” you snort absentmindedly, pulling the bowl of popcorn into your body on top of your stomach.

eren flicks your leg with his fingers while mikasa ignores the both of you and continues to watch the movie.

during the movie, you notice a text from eren that asks you to stay with him after his rehearsal tomorrow, claiming that mikasa and zeke should be out of the house.

you turn off your phone with a giddy smile. you have a good feeling about tomorrow.

————

you’re laying in eren’s bed while he practices his drumming with his band in a few rooms over. you text mikasa the whole time, who’s telling you about some drama between zeke and her cousin, levi. well, it’s not really drama, levi and zeke just have a love-hate friendship. it makes you laugh, especially since the usually cocky and narcissistic man known as zeke was usually getting his ass chewed out by levi.

“i’m so horny,” eren groans while he walks into the room. menace.

you roll your eyes at him, continuing to text mikasa. eren’s pouting as he flops down next to you, face pressing against your neck.

“didn’t you just get out rehearsal? how do you have energy after drumming for an hour and a half,” you ignore the nipping of eren.

“‘dunno,” he sighs against your skin, sending chills up and down your spine.

you shut off your phone, throwing it to the side and pulling eren from your neck. you kiss him, to which he reciprocates happily, while he goes to straddle your waist.

his hands are already groping at your chest and his breath is already heavy against your mouth.

you pull away, “have you been horny since the beginning of rehearsal??”

he grumbles out a yes while he bites and sucks at your neck. your laughter is interrupted by a gasp when eren bites particularly hard on your neck. his hands creep up under your shirt, only to find a surprise.

“you’re not wearing a bra,” he asks, pushing the shirt up over your boobs.

“didn’t feel the need to,” you mumble with embarrassment as eren’s eyes stare at your chest.

without a second thought, his lips are attached to one tit, sucking hickies onto the skin around your areola. you whimper when he punches and twists a nipple with his fingers, chest slightly bucking up and burying his face further into your tits. eren feels like he’s in heaven.

when eren pulls away, he takes a moment to admire your tits. bruised and abused, glistening with his saliva under the lights in his room.

“pretty,” he mumbles, finally pushing your shirt entirely off of your body.

you wiggle your hips as a signal that eren takes. he’s ridding himself of his shirt and pants before he takes off your own pants. his fingers just barely swipe across the outsides of your thighs, giving you goosebumps.

eren’s spreading your legs apart, staring at the wet stain on your panties. you try to push your hips in his face, but eren swings his left arm around your hips to hold them down. his right hand is teasingly stroking your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear. each swipe of his thumb has your whole body tensing, something that has him smirking.

“please,” you bite your lip while you stare into his eyes.

instead of indulging in your desires, he’s pulling his body away from the spot between your legs. only to take off your underwear, and then settle between your legs again.

“you’re all wet and i’ve barely done anything,” he comments, running a fingertip against your slit.

you whimper whenever eren shoves two of his fingers inside of you unexpectedly. he doesn’t give you time to adjust to his fingers, immediately setting himself a tempo as he fucks you with his fingers.

moaning and acting without thinking, your hand tugs at his long hair. he almost immediately pulls his fingers outside of you, fingertips slapping at your needy clit. your hips buck while you apologize.

“pull my hair like that again and you won’t get to cum,” he resumes his finger fucking, slightly smiling at how your hands immediately go to grip at the sheets now. he’s trained you so well.

“do you hear that,” he snickers while curling his finger, squelch sounds following after.

“cumming! cumming,” you pant a few moments later, eyes squeezing shut.

eren immediately pulls his fingers out of you, resulting in a cry from you. he laughs sadistically as he repeats the process over and over and over again, so much that you’ve lost count, tears now running down your cheeks. he lets you come this time, admiring the blissed out look on your face as you moan wantonly.

but his hand moves to your clit now, listening to your pleading that you’re too sensitive.

“shut up and take it,” he stops his maneuvers on your clit to slap your clit again.

you yelp and buck your hips, starting to open your mouth to plead until he starts rubbing your clit again. you orgasm quickly, back arching against eren’s mattress.

“eren,” you whimper, legs shaking while eren pulls his hand away.

“what do you want, pretty girl,” he sits on his knees, looking down at your crying face.

“more,” you sniffle, small hand reaching out for him.

“more of what,” he raises a taunting eyebrow, catching your wrist in his hand, “c’mon, use your words, you’re a big girl.”

“you... more of you.”

“that’s not an answer,” he reaches down to wipe away a tear.

“want you inside me,” you pout and wiggle your hips again.

“you want it or need it?” he smirks while tilting his head.

you whine, “need it. need you here, ‘ren.”

you guide his hand to your tummy while you speak and eren feels his cock throb in his boxers.

“fuck,” he groans, roughly flipping you over to lay on your stomach.

you yelp, reaching out to hold onto the pillow your head was just laying on. he’s forcing you to arch your back, and the way he forces you to do it is almost unrealistic. he’s tossing his boxers across the room for him to search for later, reaching down to pump his cock in his hand.

his hands lay heavy on your ass, spreading your plump cheeks apart to get a better view.

your cheek squishes against the pillow as you stare at him over your shoulder, needy pout on your face. he chuckles at your eyes closing whenever he finally shoves his huge cock inside of you.

“so big,” you sob, “so big, ren.”

he ignores you, pulling him cock out of you until the tip before slamming his hips against your ass. you yelp as soon as eren starts to thrust in and out of you ruthlessly. so hard that you’re sure you’ll have bruises on the back of your thighs for a few days.

however, his hips still whenever he hears the front door of the house creaking open and a voice calling out.

“eren! i’m home,” mikasa calls out while she shuts the door behind her.

you reach your hand back to shove eren off of you, not wanting to risk the chance of mikasa even hearing you. eren grabs your wrist with one hand while the other slaps your asscheek harshly.

“okay, i’m about to take a nap,” he replies to mikasa, knowing full well she’s already making her way up the stairs.

“okay,” she replies, going into her room. her room that’s right next to eren’s.

“eren,” you whisper, “she’s gonna hear.”

“don’t act so innocent,” he growls, “i bet you want mikasa to hear. to hear just how you’re getting fucked like the slut you are.”

you whimper, “no... no.”

“want her to hear how good you’re feeling,” eren smiles sadistically as you turn your head to bury your face in the pillow.

he hears your whining faintly whenever he starts to thrust his hips again. your moans are being muffled by his pillow, and even so, you’re sure that mikasa knows what’s going on by the sound of eren’s skin slapping against your own.

he puts his hands onto your shoulders, leaning his weight onto you as he speeds up his thrusts. you’re almost screaming in his pillow now, nails clawing at the sheets under you.

“gonna come,” he groans breathily, “you gonna come when mikasa’s in the next room over?”

he watches you nod your head, which makes him bite his lips while releasing a groan.

he whispers in your ear, spitting out a command for you, “go ahead. go ahead and cum like the slut you are. give mikasa a show.”

you moan loudly into his pillow, pussy fluttering around his fat cock as you orgasm.

he fucks you through it, not slowing down his fast and vigorous thrusting.

“hurts,” you cry.

“don’t care,” he says, reaching a hand around your body to grip onto your neck.

he’s pulling you up with him, back flushed against his front as he thrusts wildly. you look like a mess, saliva dripping down your chin along with your tears, eyes glossed over.

your hand touches against your tummy gently, whimpering at the feeling of the bulge that is eren.

“feel you,” you mewl quietly, “feel you here, ‘rennie.”

he presses the hand not wrapped around your neck against your tummy, groaning out. his thrusts speed up at full speed, something he does not do often, but eren’s eager to fuck his seed inside of you.

“gonna cum, gonna fuck my kids into your slutty pussy,” he grumbles, slapping a hand over your mouth whenever it opens to moan.

“you want that, huh? w-want me to fuck a kid into you? maybe then mikasa’ll get the hint,” his voice is shaky when he feels you tighten around him.

he snickers, “fuckin’ slut. tightening around me whenever i spew that shit. you want her to hear you being fucked stupid, huh?”

you shake your head while you shut your eyes again. another orgasm is approaching, and you’re not sure that you can handle holding it in.

eren notices and decides to take pity on you.

“go ahead, cum,” and you do. you gush all over his cock and sheets, hands scratching at his wrist as you scream into the palm of his hand.

“fuck,” he hisses whenever he feels his balls tighten.

he comes not too long after you, finally slowing his pace down to a grind. he lets you drop onto the bed on your tummy, spreading your legs open to admire how his cum leaks out of you.

you’re absolutely sure that mikasa heard, but you’re too fucked out to care. she’ll confront you if she knows, and that’s when you’ll worry.

but then again, your best friend’s brother is irresistible.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #tw: dubcon #eren aot #eren yaegar #attack on titan eren #snk eren #eren x you #eren smut #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager smut #eren jeager #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #aot smut #snk smut

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sweet-flower-dreams · 3 years

Note

Thought about a situation where Klee is like a close friend of the reader as they travel a lot together and she finds out that the reader has a huge crush on someone(Fischl,Eula and Yanfei,all seperate)but reader is too nervous to ask so-Klee sneakily sets the reader and the character on a date to try and help the reader?

Random idea lmao-once again do this request and your own time and pace and take care!! :)

MATCHMAKER KLEE

“Klee thinks that you need to stop being a big baby!”

“I can’t just do that, y’know…”

Fischl

You’ve told Klee about your commissions with Fischl

And she picked up pretty fast that you liked her a lot

“Well… we had to go and check out a few suspicious monster camps, and uh… she was really cool…”

You were blushing all over !! You did that a lot when talking about Fischl

And since Klee follows you basically every where

She knows you’re really close with Fischl

Klee thinks it’s kinda annoying that you won’t ask her out,

so she takes things into her own tiny hands

“Fischl! Fischl! Y/n says they want to talk to you!! Cmon!”

She drags Fischl over to you, much to your surprise

“Ok now y/n, you can tell her!! What do you mean no!? You gotta!”

Klee forces you to cough up a really awkward confession

“Heeey Fischl…uh.. I- I really like you. And, I was hoping you would, uh, go out with me? It’s, it’s ok if you don’t want to… but.. I guess.. I don’t know”

Klee already knew Fischl was gonna say yes, because she did lots of snooping and asking to make sure your feelings wouldn’t get hurt! :))

“Oh! I… I suppose… I could accompany you for an outing… Your feelings are reciprocated.”

How could she refuse when you looked at her like that?

Even the Prinzessin der Verurteilung was not immune to your charm

though you deny you had any, much to Klee’s disapproval!

Eventually, Klee is very happy to see you both going steady, and even Oz likes you!

Fischl wouldn’t mind if you were to rule by her side <3

Eula

You always seem to be with Eula, doing something or the other

Klee may be small, but she’s not stupid!

She can see the way you look at Eula

and the way Eula stares at you when she thinks no one is watching

And Klee thinks it’s about time you both kiss already >:(

So she gives Eula a little card saying “can yuo plese go outt with y/n?” (Spelling included)

And it’s got little drawings of you, eula, and Klee on it!! <33

Eula is really caught off guard by this, since KLEE is asking her to go out with you???

So she goes to check with you and,

You just burst into a flaming red blush

“Klee, what did you-???”

“Big Brother Albedo said that you liked Miss Eula! But you won’t say anything and it’s annoying Klee :(((“

Now Eula is blushing awww

“Is this… true, y/n? You like me?”

Klee sorta giggles and runs off bc she knows that she’s won 🙄

You and Eula go on a date later that you both SWEAR is a professional outing but… babes we both know it’s not

You both kissed when Eula was walking you home hehe <3

Yanfei

Klee follows you everywhere, and I mean EVERYWHERE

That includes to Liyue

Does Jean know? Maybe, maybe not…

But Klee knows that you have a big crush on a certain legal advisor !!

You make up fake legal troubles for an excuse to see her

And ofc she catches on,

I mean who is out here “losing their pet goldfish and is getting sued”??

Klee helps you come up with them most of the time

But when that doesn’t really go anywhere, Klee sends Yanfei a “letter”

“hi mis yanfai!! my freind y/n relly likes you so plees go outt wiht them :)) Klee promisis to be a good girl whil y/n is gon!”

Klee tried SO HARD OK

She’s not very good at spelling, but she thought the best way for yanfei to get her message was through letters

Yanfei thought it was the cutest thing ever

The next time you go see her?

You both are officially going on a date

“So, a little bomb told me that you’ve got a thing for me! You really should have told me sooner, cutie!”

“A-ah, Right… sorry.. I’ll take you to Wanmin to make up for it?”

Klee: 1 - Awkwardness: 0

A/N: AA I LOVED THIS ONE!! it was so fun to write 💕💕💕 Klee would definitely be such a sneaky lil baby and try to get people together!! Thanks for the request :)

#klee #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader #yanfei x reader #yanfei #fischl #fischl x reader #eula lawrence #eula x reader #dearest request #love • sleepyditto #lumi scribbles

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starglow-xx · 3 years

Note

hello! may i request headcanons for chuuya having a crush on someone who's dense? like he could ask them out in the most straightforward way possible and it would still go over their head?

yes, yes of course you may!

sorry this took so long! my computer was out of commission for abt a week (or two..??)

but this is also my birthday writing piece for chuuya!! (4/29/21) i even added a small drabble thingy in addition to the hcs for the occasion hehe

from where i am, it is about fifteen minutes past midnight so it’s officially chuuya day here!!

happy birthday chuuya i love you! you deserve the whole world and everyone is willing to fight tooth and nail to ensure your happiness! we love you! 💗💗

anyways, i hope you all enjoy this! i kinda had some writer’s block but it was still a lot of fun to write! there might be some mistakes, but i’ll scan over it again later. reader is gender neutral! have fun!

chuuya having a crush on a dense! reader

nakahara chuuya x gn! reader

im cackling somebody help him

he’s frustrated bc you can’t take a hint or a thousand but he can’t even be mad bc he’s whipped

“look at you all dressed up today, wanna go out later? my treat?”

“oh really? thanks chuuya-san! you’re such a nice friend. i’ll go invite the others right now, i’ll see you later!”

“...”

fast forward to later in the evening and he finds himself at a little restaurant with the black lizard + higuchi and akutagawa

sigh

in unison all of them go, “thank you for the meal chuuya-san!” (except aku and hirotsu are quieter & and gin just a nods hehe)

“no problem” (ꐦ ´͈ ᗨ `͈ )

gin only pats him on the back in sympathy

he spends a lot of time trying to think of ways to make it absolutely and undeniably clear that he has feelings for you

he always fails

“(y/n) i like you”

“i like you too chuuya-san”

“really?”

“mhm”

“t-then will you—”

“you’re a really great friend! and superior too”

“...nevermind”

“oh were you saying something?”

“nah, just forget about it”

tachihara is laughing in the corner of the corridor

dont worry, chuuya made sure to get back at him

chuuya’s been pinning after you for years and frankly, his failed attempts to woo you has lead everyone to the breaking point

and i mean everyone

yes, even aku

hell even dazai

but dazai also thinks it’s funny, so he doesn’t mind all that much

okay bye bye dazai-san this headcanon set isn’t abt you rn

PLEASE EVERYONE FEELS SO BAD FOR HIM

they knew even if he kissed you, you still might not get it

so they decided to help him

super secret mission get chuuya and (y/n) together is a go!

they’re still working on a proper mission name, don’t mind them

they had a super secret strategy meeting!

you can bet your ass that they nearly got nothing done

akutagawa & kaiji weren’t much help, neither was higuchi, mori, or elise

tachihara nearly got killed for a thoughtless comment

“just tell them chuuya-san!”

“i already fucking did you ass!”

gin, hirotsu, and kouyou were the most helpful !!

hirotsu and kouyou both agreed on the idea that chuuya should try courting with bouquets of flowers instead of flat out asking you bc they knew you found them pretty

(even if you don’t identify as a female, flowers are for everyone no matter gender or sexuality! so let’s normalize giving flowers to everyone <33 )

gin didn’t speak but she used cards to communicate

everyone knew that you weren’t stupid (you wouldn’t have survived in the mafia if you were) but they did know that you were only stupid when it came to all this lovey dovey stuff

i mean, if chuuya gave you flowers every so often, there’s no way that you wouldn’t piece it together at some point

right...??

but kouyou assured him that even though you wouldn’t get it right away, you’d appreciate the gestures and that he’ll stand out more

she even said that if someone gave her flowers, she would appreciate it, whether or not she reciprocated their feelings

it takes guts to be so up front with your feelings after all

gin and hirotsu only nodded with her explanation

once again, this only provoked a reaction out of tachihara

“what do you know gin? i get the old man and kouyou-san, they’re grown, but you? what do you know abt courting? or flowers? what are you a girl?”

akutagawa choked on his cough, higuchi on air, and on the other side of yokohoma at the ada, dazai is cackling

yes, dazai somehow placed a listening device onto chuuya’s hat and was listening in

don’t ask how, it’s dazai

“DAZAI GET YOUR BANDAGED ASS OFF THE COUCH AND STOP LAUGHING”

anyways

the next day, chuuya did what was barely discussed and for once, things actually started to look up

until they started look to down again

at first, it actually looked like you understood his intentions after he gave you a bouquet of flowers

literally everyone was leaning against the opposite hallway you two were in and then they got excited !!

especially chuuya !

but then your expression sort of changed...??

and then in their heads they simultaneously went, “oh no”

they knew that expression

it was very familiar when you tended to friend zone chuuya

but boy let me tell you what you said next made them facepalm and or make their jaws drop

“ah, so you really are friend zoning me huh chuuya-san; what a shame, i really did like you”

LEMME TELL YOU WHEN I SAY THAT CHUUYA WAS DISTRESSED I MEAN HE WAS DISTRESSED

you liked him??

him of all people??

he wasn’t complaining, no of course not, but he still couldn’t believe it

but that wasn’t what he was really focusing on right now

what in any form or language did it say he was friend zoning you?!

flower language apparently

chuuya chose to buy the bouquet of yellow roses, pink carnations, and yellow carnations bc he thought you would appreciate the brighter colors, and so that you’d remember them better (because remembering them, meant remembering him)

but ooh boy

altogether, they meant the exact opposite message he wanted to send

someone help him pls

“you see chuuya-san, yellow roses mean friendship, pink carnations mean gratitude, and yellow carnations mean rejection; sooo in a nutshell, these pretty much say ‘thank you for being my friend, but im rejecting you”

no one can tell if tachihara is crying or wheezing

and dazai is having the time of his life

yes, he started listening in on him again

and chuuya is just stunned

like speechless and unmoving stunned

is he just bad at this whole courting/dating thing?? it’s only been one day and of it and somehow he was the one doing the rejecting??

“thank you for the flowers chuuya-san, i’ll be going now; i’ll make sure to let this affect our friendship. i’ll see you tomorrow!”

you passed by the not so subtle group of people

“tachihara-kun..?? are you alright?”

just for context, he was leaning his forehead against the wall using his forearm

again, it was hard to tell whether he was crying or wheezing

“i-im okay (y/n)-san...i think c-chuuya-san has it worse than me”

“...okay..?”

BACK TO CHUUYA

he’s still frozen poor baby

but it’s okay bc after like 5 more seconds he’s chasing you down the hallway you were walking in

kouyou, with a knowing smile on her face, ushers everyone away towards the opposite direction

she received some whines (ahem, tachihara and mori) but silenced them by summoning golden demon

but it’s okay

if they run fast enough, they can see what happens through the security cameras

chuuya caught up with you and tried to explain everything but he was exhausted

emotionally, physically (bc since when did you walk that fast??), and generally just tired with the whole situation

he just wanted to call you his; was that too much to ask??

as explosive as he can be, he can be calm and collected too

and he really did try to be that way as he talked with you but it was very difficult at the moment

the dumbfounded and confused look on your face his face twitch with annoyance and his heart started beating faster bc god you were cute

BUT THATS BESIDES THE POINT RIGHT NOW

thank goodness after what seemed like years, you finally somewhat understood what happened

you didn’t understand completely but it was something

The two of you stood in the middle of the unusually empty hallway facing each other, you with the bouquet still in hand. It was quiet as you and Chuuya assessed the situation.

You looked at him skeptically and he stared right back you with his gorgeous blue eyes.

“...So you do like me Chuuya-san??”

“Yes”

“And you were trying to court me just now, not friend zone me??”

“Yes”

You got most of your questions out of the way, but there was something that you’ve been wondering about for quite a while.

“...So you’re not gay for Dazai-san??”

“Yes, im not wait—GAY FOR DAZAI?? THAT MACKEREL??”

Chuuya did a double take. What in heavens name made it seem like he liked that suicidal maniac?? Why would he choose him if he had you?

Like he would choose him anyways; or ever consider him as a possible romantic partner.

“Oh, so you are?”

“NO! I SAID I LIKED YOU DIDN’T I?”

“Well yeah, but I thought you liked Dazai-san too. As annoying as he is, he can be quite charming—”

He was out of patience at this point (nope definitely not because you were talking about Dazai who told you that?) and just decided to kiss you.

You immediately melted into the kiss and kissed him back with the same amount of love and feeling.

Letting the bouquet fall to the ground, you wrapped you arms around his neck and his put his on your lower back and brought you closer to him. After a few more moments, the two of you broke apart for air.

The two of you, slightly out of breath, leaned your foreheads against each other and just basked in each others presence.

Chuuya looked into your (e/c) eyes and asked you just a little bit above a whisper, “Now do you get my intentions and feeling?”

You blinked at him before breaking out into a grin, “Hmm I’m not sure; do you wanna do that again Chuuya?”

The red head only blinked back at you before rolling his eyes, a smile present on his handsome features, his heart fluttering at you using his name with the honorific.

“Dumbass”

Smiling cheekily at him, you pressed a kiss on his cheek and started dragging him towards the lobby to take a walk around the building perimeter, knowing that the two of you can’t be too far from work.

The way down to the lobby was mostly in comfortable silence until you said something that made Chuuya want to bash his head against the wall.

“You know, you could’ve just told me you liked me Chuuya. It’s not like I would’ve said no.”

Once again, as the rest of the more power mafia members watch from security cameras, it is hard to tell whether Tachihara is crying or wheezing of laughter.

omake !!

The two of you just started making your way around the building when suddenly a very familiar voice came from Chuuya’s prized hat.

“Chuuyaaaa!! It was about time you stopped being a chicken, Chibi!”

Removing his hat from his head, he started yelling at it not knowing exactly where the listening device was planted.

“TEME! HOW DID YOU—”

“And (y/n)! I would congratulate you, but I think I would rather offer you my condolences. Why him?! He’s just a slimy slug. OOH OOH how would you like to join me in a double suicide?! A shame it won’t be a lover’s suicide but it’ll annoy Chuuya so I think it’ll be worth it! ”

“YOU—”

“And please don’t kiss while I’m listening in. You made me lose my appetite! And it was such a shame! I was eating crab using Kunikida-kun’s money! Do you know what you’ve cost me?!”

“DAZAI YOU PIECE OF—”

“Ah! Kunikida-kun is here! I have to go!”

You can hear something is the background that vaguely sounds like, “DAZAI YOU WASTE OF BANDAGES STOP USING MY MONEY”

“DAZAI DON’T YOU DARE LEAVE IM NOT DONE WITH—”

*Click!*

The click sound from the hat revealed that Dazai disconnected.

Chuuya twitched and glared furiously at his signature hat hating that the voice he hated the most came out of it.

“Aww, I didn’t get to talk to Dazai-san”

Chuuya whipped his head towards you, a look of mock (or real) betrayal showing on his features.

You laughed at him before taking the hat out of his hands and placing it on his head.

He shyly looked away before muttering a thanks making you smile wider. Just as the two of you were about to start walking, a small explosion erupted from his hat; it was likely that Dazai made the listening device self destruct.

“DAZAI YOU BASTARDD”

At the Armed Detective Agency, a certain suicidal maniac hid from the wrath of his current partner as he thought about the wrath his old one.

“Hmmm I wonder if Chuuya would finally stop wearing his ugly hats if I blow all of them up...”

as always, reblogs and shares are appreciated! i hope you all stay safe! and just in case nobody told you they loved you today, i love you! you are enough! <3

writing belongs to me! please do not plagiarize! the reblog button is there for a reason

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decennia · 3 years

Text

I don't know who needs to fucking hear this, but I'm about to say it with my full chest:

SEVERUS SNAPE DESERVES NO RIGHTS, I SAID WHAT I SAID.

Why? I'll tell you why:

Let's start with Neville Longbottom. Often the butt of the joke, Neville was often played up for comedic effect, so I can understand why we never took the implications of his boggart seriously.

But the fact of the matter is: Neville Longbottom was more terrified of his potion's teacher than he was of Bellatrix Lestrange, a woman who was a proud Death Eater who tortured his parents into insanity, a fate several people throughout the series state as "worse than death."

I've heard the argument from Snape Apologists that Boggarts are "superficial" creatures, so they don't go much deeper for a fear of yours, and, having gleaned a recent and prevalent one, will shift into that. Hence why it would be Snape, who recently tormented Neville, rather than Bellatrix, who Neville has never met.

It still stands, however, that Bellatrix is a known Death Eater, and Snape was just his potion's teacher.

We also see from Harry's own experience with the boggart, that the boggart hesitated before turning into the dementor. It "chose" which of Harry's fears to become, Voldemort, or fear itself?

Now, because I always listen to both sides of a story, try and see it from both perspectives before I draw a conclusion, I asked myself "why?"

There never is a good reason for abuse, but I still tried to look at it from Snape's eyes. And the conclusion drawn was literally the same as almost every single motivation for every one of Snape's decisions: because of Lily.

Neville was born several hours before Harry, and was a contender for being "the Chosen One" (the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies) but Voldemort chose Harry.

By Snape's logic, it meant that if Voldemort had chosen Neville, Lily would've still been alive for him to woefully pine for from a distance.

And so he takes it out on a fucking c h i l d.

He abuses him, torments him, and even forces Neville to poison his pet toad, Trevor, who has been shown to be of incredible significance to Neville.

And when the potion doesn't poison Trevor? And actually proved to be a competent potion? Snape made his displeasure known by deducting five points from Gryffindor.

I know that's not a Big Deal™ in the grand scheme of things, but we have to remember that Neville was a CHILD.

Moving on from Neville, let's get to: Lily.

Remember what I said before, about Lily being his end-all and be-all for everything? I meant it.

I'm not saying she was the sole reason Snape became a Death Eater, but she was the "last straw."

Snape's dislike for muggles stemmed not from Lily (of course not, he loved her), but from his father. Yes, I remembered his father, Tobias Snape. The muggle, the abuser. Apples and trees, I guess. From what I recall, Tobias was never physically abusive towards Eileen, Snape's mother, but he was emotionally and mentally abusive towards her. This would be cause for resentment for any young child growing up in that environment.

But, for a moment, may I direct your attention to Harry James Potter?

Who grew up that exact same way with the Dursleys?

Who was also neglected (Severus was said to have ill-fitting, mismatched clothes, sound familiar?) but who also did not have Eileen there to protect him?

And did Harry ever become a member of a muggle hate group? (No. The answer is no, in case you all didn't remember that Very Important Detail of the series).

So, yes, Snape was abused, and no, I am not condoning it, I do sympathize with him on that front: no child should ever go through that. Ever. No matter the fucking child, there is no good reason for it. But do I condone his actions later on in life? Absolutely not.

Because he called Lily a "filthy mudblood."

Not just "mudblood", but a filthy one, too. And why did he do that? Because she defended him against his bullies. Yes, Sirius and James were bullies, I guess everyone's faves are a little problematic in this bitch.

And not only did he call her that, but he also was besties with people who fancied themselves the next generation of Death Eaters.

And when Lily asked him if he STILL intended on becoming one, he never gave her an answer, prompting her to sectumsempra all ties with him. Meaning, she probably gave him multiple chances to not be a raging bigot, none of which he took. Love of his life my fucking toe, gtfo—

Also, Snape obviously knew what his "friends" were doing at the time. Particularly, and especially, Mulciber's attack on Mary Macdonald.

Now, we can't talk about Lily without talking about James and the Marauders.

I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN THAT THE MARAUDERS BULLIED SNAPE, OKAY? But listen up: still not a good enough reason to join the wizarding world's KKK. Actually there is no good reason, period, end of message, send tweet.

He loathed them so much, he literally gave zero fucks about their wellbeing.

Even though! Sirius' biggest crime against Severus is jokingly telling him to follow Remus Lupin under the Whomping Willow during that time of the month.

And Severus would swear that James' biggest crime against him (after "stealing" Lily, of course) would be stopping him from encountering the werewolf and saving his fucking life.

Where the fuck was that reciprocated energy when Snape KNEW that James was also marked for death?

Also, are you going to tell me, that with his ear so pressed to the ground about news on Lily, that he didn't know who the real rat was? That he didn't know that it was Peter Pettigrew? This is speculatory, but... Snape had to have known that Sirius was not the betrayer, he must've at least known it was Pettigrew, meaning he let an innocent man waste away in Azkaban and for what? Something that happened when they were kids? I wonder why Sirius is a "stray dog" idk probably because someone let him rot in Azkaban for thirteen years?

Don't even get me started on how he literally stepped over James' body to get to Lily's while Harry sat there crying. Please. Or the fact that he only wanted Lily spared? He literally said "yes, only her, please, Dark Lord, fuck that newborn"?

OKAY AND MY FINAL POINT BECAUSE THIS GOT TOO LONG AND HONESTLY I'M LITERALLY WAY TOO FUCKING ANGRY AT THIS POINT... I PRESENT TO THE COURT: THE CARROWS.

Severus had been made headmaster of Hogwarts, and what does he do? Allow the Carrows to torture muggleborns and first years. Eleven year olds. Disgusting. Please. What the fuck.

I don't think Severus Snape died a fucking hero, or in "penance." NOT when twelve hours prior, he'd been turning a blind eye and a deaf ear to eleven year olds screaming as the Cruciatus Curse was used on them.

Also, James never sexually harassed Lily? Wanna discuss sexual harassment? How does "waiting outside the Gryffindor common room until someone lets you in even though it has been made very clear that the person you want to speak to doesn't want to speak to you" sound?

I am not denying that Severus Snape is a tragic character; he's a very complex and somewhat interesting one, even. All I am saying is that I don't think saying "always" on the brink of death excuses any of your past actions. He's a martyr at best — having his sins "forgiven" by sacrificing himself for a just cause.

Yes, this is a hill I'm willing to die on. But, as always, I am open to a respectful conversation (not argument, conversation). If you disagree, I'd love to hear why. Try and change my mind; as long as you do so respectfully, I will hear you out.

#i don't know what to tag this as #anti severus snape #tw hp #tw abuse #tw bullying #this is not a kink shame this is a i just don't really see the appeal of this specific character but you do you b #he deserves no rights cause he should be in azkaban in case i wasn't clear in my thesis

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jayswritings13 · 3 years

Text

Helluva: Octavia and s/o who is a popular designer

Request: "Could I request Octavia who’s S/O is a popular fashion designer? Like their clothes and what they make are THE thing trending in hell 24/7, bonus points if their the one who made her beanie with the crown. Also, love your work, can’t wait to see more!" By anon

Octavia never paid that much attention to the ever-changing trends of Hell.

But being someone who comes from such extreme power and money, she can't help but notice the trends, especially with clothing.

Stella always tries to buy Octavia's love with clothing after Stolas and her get into their many fights.

Or as a way to 'bond' with her.

It never usually works all that well, but Octavia does have to admit that a lot of the clothes that Stella picks out are cute.

This then led to Octavia searching for the designer for the whole afternoon.

She was shocked to find that the designer was someone her age. Like WHAT?!

Also, someone who was cute as fuck.

She was also low-key justifying all this by telling herself that she was into design and thought that the assembly of the clothes was interesting or something about how she was interested in the patterns of trends and how they evolve over time.

But those were all lies.

Octavia knew that.

And more importantly, Stolas knew that as well, which he would not let go of at all.

As annoying as it could be at times, Octavia could handle some light teasing from her dad here and there, especially since she could always fire back with remarks about Blitzø.

"I think I can get in contact with them, Via~" Stolas responded one day in passing, "I think a little hello is overdue, no?"

"No!" Octavia was not ready for that. Not with her dad being there. He was never the most subtle person ever.

"Why not, Via? Nothing will ever happen your way."

"Because at least, I'll have my dignity!"

"VIA!"

Octavia does cave and message you on her own, in fear of what kind of message her dad might send. Stolas begrudgingly agreed to this, knowing well enough that Via sending this message alone was a big moment.

Octavia didn't expect a message back really, especially not one right away. She was shocked that you answered right away.

Eventually the constant back and forth messaging led to Octavia meeting you in person.

The two of you clicked instantly, which led to feelings being expressed and reciprocated. Stolas was obviously your number one fan and often asked Octavia about your relationship.

You love to show Octavia designs that you are working on and answering any and all questions that Octavia might have about what it's like to produce clothing.

You ask her about what it's like to be one of Hell's royals and about astrology, as she loves to show off her knowledge about the stars and such.

The two of you often spend the late nights over by Octavia's telescope, naming as many constellations as you can see.

This eventually leads you to create an astrology-inspired collection, which Octavia was more than happy to help you with.

She grew very embarrassed when you would name her as an inspiration and co-designer of the collection, but you would always smile at her, telling her in private how true your statements were.

It wasn't until a little bit later in the relationship that you showed Octavia some of your older designs, where Octavia instantly noticed the crown beanie that she wears almost every day.

"You made that?" Octavia said, shocked. "You made this?" She asked once again, holding up her signature beanie.

"Mmmmph. It was one of my first designs honestly. It holds a special place in my heart, which is why my logo is a crown." You stated.

Octavia makes sure to always wear it whenever she's around you now.

You always bring Octavia to press events or any other events that you are invited to.

Octavia was a bit unsure of this at first, as she's not someone who enjoys parties or socializing all that much. But with you by her side, she feels much more comfortable.

"Are you sure this is okay?"

"Of course, Via!!" You smiled.

"But, your event...." Octavia said, looking away from your eyes. "You worked so hard. It's your night special night."

"With you here, that's more than special enough for me." You said as Octavia caught your gaze. "This is my special night. I love you, Via."

"I love you too, (Y/N)." Octavia smiled. No one has ever done this for her.

"Buuuuut, since it's my special night, I pick the movie."

".....fine." Octavia said, "But no musicals, my dad and his boyfriend won't stop humming this one song from Grease."

"You got it."

#helluva boss x reader #helluva octavia #helluva boss octavia #helluva boss headcanon #helluva boss imagines #octavia goetia #octavia helluva boss #octavia

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smoochkooks · 3 years

Text

—chapter one: the beginning of an end

this is a part of my an ode to a broken heart drabble series.

pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

genre: unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, future smut

word count: 1.4k words

summary: loving jeon jungkook is, above all, the beginning of an end.

previous || next

You’re positive your favourite sound in the whole world is the rhythmic, repetitive sound of your fingers tapping on the keyboard.

Everyone has a different approach when it comes to coping with stress and anxiety. Some people drink away their unwanted emotions, some drown themselves in work, some watch yet another, mediocre Netflix show. But your solution, your little panacea has always been writing.

You’re not the best when it comes to expressing your true feelings. You can struggle with saying ‘I love you’ to your mother and then write a long, affectionate letter for her birthday that makes her eyes turn glossy. You may stutter and tumble on your own words while trying to order coffee and then complete academic essays with ease.

Whenever you feel like you’re overwhelmed, boiled up with mixed emotions, you do exactly what your school counselor told you many years ago: you let it out. She never mentioned any specifics, simply encouraging you to find your own way. And that’s exactly what you did – you picked it up yourself. First, it was writing a diary. No less than two weeks into it, you got bored. Turns out describing in detail every single mundane day of your life was never your forté. You threw away your old notebook, bought a new one and decided to write there whenever you felt like you really wanted to, not out of obligation.

And you continue to do so, these days you opt for a use of modern technology often. You open your laptop and pour your feelings onto a digital sheet of paper. It’s cathartic, in a way. Getting rid of what you feel like is weighing you down.

Jungkook however, your dearest best friend, has always been on the other side of the spectrum. Loud, obnoxious, a life and soul of the party who happened to miraculously befriend the most quiet introvert in class. Sometimes you still wonder how your friendship has managed to survive almost twenty years. You’re two polar opposites. Fire and water. Storm and chilly breeze. A confession screamed in the middle of the night and handwritten love letter.

You’re a dichotomy. Made of the same atoms, pulling in and pulling away. And if the phrase ‘opposites attract’ held any significance, maybe you would’ve ended up together. But in your case, it’s yet another platitude. Something that seems to work out only in books and movies. Because, if that was true, he would never fell in love with a female version of him, just graced with a sprinkle of pure sweetenes Jungkook sometimes lacks.

Soojin is everything you will never be. Polite, outgoing, sociable and so likeable you hate yourself for despising her. Truthfully, there’s nothing bad you could say about her. No wonder he’s fallen head over heels for her, not you.

What’s there to love about you, if you willing chose to pin for a boy that’s so out of your league? It’s actually hilarious to even dream about him returning your feelings.

You stare at the screen with half-lidded eyes. The clock reads quarter past midnight, letters start to blur into nothingness. Yet another chapter of your miserable life is completed as you save the document and slam your laptop shut. You don’t bother to shower or take off your clothes. Sleepiness hits you right when you close your eyes.

You dream of wedding halls and never spoken love confessions.

You read once on Twitter that being an adult means checking your e-mail as a part of your morning social media routine and since then, you haven’t quite related to anything more in your life.

At the very top of your inbox there’s yet another e-mail from your Creative Writing proffesor, Kim Namjoon. He’s a very stubborn man, you decide, as you scroll through the contents of his message. He still wants you to consider what he told you a few days ago after class, it seems.

“Miss ___? Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure.” you replied and awkwardly walked up to his podium.

You might have been madly (and miserablely) in love with your best friend, but Kim Namjoon has never failed to make you feel like a silly teenager with a crush on her older teacher. To say Kim Namjoon was intimidating was an misunderstanding. His presence was thoroughly electrifying. You remembered a very disappointed sigh the girl sitting next you let out when she noticed a ring on his right hand. You couldn’t judge her. His wife had scored probably the finest man on this damn planet.

“I read your latest assignment and I must say, your novelette was outstanding as always. Dare I say the best among others,” Namjoon said. You bowed your head in acknowledgement, praying he wouldn’t notice your rose-colored cheeks. “Regarding that, I actually have a proposition for you.”

At that, your eyes widened. “What kind of proposition, sir?” you asked.

He picked up a sheet of paper from his desk and handed it to you. It was a flyer, you realised, and read it through quickly. VARIETÉ Publishing was organising an annual contest for young poets, which you had heard about before. Your English Literature proffesor mentioned it during her lecture a week ago. However, poetry had never been your strong suit. As much as you enjoyed reading it, you weren’t really fond of creating your own poems. So why did Kim Namjoon decide to tell you about this all of a sudden?

“I know what you might be thinking right now, but I’m not actually encouraging you to take part in this competition,” As he smiled, two dimples appeared on each side of his mouth. “Do you know anything about VARIETÉ Publishing?”

Slightly confused, you gave him a nod. “It’s one if the biggest publishing companies in the country.”

“That’s very much true,” Namjoon agreed. “VARIETÉ's vice-chairman, Lee Jongi, is actually my old friend. We used to study together here, at this university. When I chose a teaching career, he got a job in a foreign publishing company, climbed up the ladder until the very top and now he’s vice-chairman and I’m a simple college professor,” He chuckled. You were too stunned to form a coherent response let alone laugh along with him. Lee Jongi and Kim Namjoon being buddies? It was a small world, after all. “Jongi has always been very fond of young, aspiring writers. When I discover a student with huge potential, I send him their works. If he finds them interesting enough, he might even take a risk and propose a publishing deal. This doesn’t happen quite often, but I want you to know that you have a pretty big chance to impress him.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed because holy fucking shit, did he just say he can help you publish your first book?

“I don’t know what to say, sir. I’m shocked.” you responded truthfully. You had heard people complimenting your skills before but this was extraordinary. “Let me just process all of this: you know personally VARIETÉ'S vice-chairman and you want to show him my works?” Even said out loud, it still sounded surreal to you.

“Correct. But of course, I won’t do anything without your consent.” Namjoon said. “That novelette you sent me recently was amazing. I’d love to show it to Lee Jongi one day.”

The task was to incorporate a hidden, symbolic message into a story. You decided to use your favorite flowers, magnolias, and its meaning. They represent eternity, because once they bloom they will continue to bloom for a long time. In your story, a girl gave her best friend magnolia's seeds, wishing her love for him to be everlasting. A day later, she received a pack of seeds from the boy as well. She happily planted them in her garden and when they bloomed, she discovered they were yellow tulips. A symbol of love that will never be reciprocated.

“You make people feel things with your words, ___, and that’s a very rare gift,” You heard Namjoon add. “Promise me you’ll consider my proposition.”

There was thousand thoughts per hour running in your head, but you gave him a curt nod. “I’ll think about it.”

As you’re staring now at the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard, you think about the girl whose only dream was to be loved by her best friend. Maybe it’s finally time for you to move on. Bury the past and plant a seed of new life. Because, loving Jeon Jungkook is, above all, the beginning of an end.

With shaky hands, you start writing a response to your proffesor.

#jungkook smut #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #bangtanhq #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #an ode to a broken heart

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duskholland · 4 years

Text

The Fame Game (Part Ten) - Tom Holland

Summary ↠ Tom is straight-up not having a good time right now.

Word count ↠ 3.9k

Warnings ↠ The romantic cliché of your dreams, alcohol, references to past intimate times, swearing. Pretty tame overall though!

A/N ↠ I can’t believe we’re at the end of the series! V (mischiefandi) gave me some really good ideas for this part with Tessa - I hope you’ll like what I did there lmao. I’m going to leave my extended thank yous for the epilogue, but just know that I am so grateful for everyone who’s stuck with the series from the beginning until now... Thank you for reading and coming on this journey with me. I hope you’ll like the final official part! Epilogue next week :’))

TEN: Come Home (T)

As the front door to Tom’s house shuts behind you, Tom finds himself slumping against the wooden frame, grief overcoming his senses. He’s tired and his arms hurt, everything hurts, but he peers up through the windowpane at the top of the door and watches as you run out through the sheets of rain. Paparazzi flashes illuminate his garden, capturing you as you stride purposefully to your car, duck down and enter it. A moment later, the car pulls away from the pavement and disappears.

Tom kicks at the door.

“Fuck!”

His hands curl into fists as he turns around and leans with his back against the door, frustrated eyes falling onto his jacket and his keys. For a moment he contemplates picking them up and making a mad dash after you, reckoning he could probably beat you to Heathrow if he drove recklessly enough, but then he sags.

Tom has to give you space. You’ve asked for space. He has to respect it.

His hand twitches as he walks out of the porch, as if his very fingers can feel how badly he wants to reach out and grab the keys, but he leaves them. Instead, Tom climbs the stairs and walks straight into the spare room, throwing himself down onto the bed and burrowing his head in the pillows. He groans - loudly.

It was always a long shot - telling you how he felt. And in some ways, Tom’s admission of love had gone quite well. You reciprocate his feelings, which, really, is the most essential part of it all. But that reciprocation is only the tip of the iceberg, and it goes far deeper than that - because you still left. Tom is still alone, curled up on the bed that smells distantly of you, clenching his fingers feebly around the sheets that he’d refused to let Harrison change, even months after you’d left. Your perfume lingers on the cotton.

There’s the small pattering sound of paws moving over wooden floors, and Tom’s lips quirk up ever so slightly as he pulls his face from the pillows just to see Tessa trot into the bedroom. She plods towards the bed but hesitates, sniffing around the wardrobe. One of the doors hangs half-open, and Tom notices that you’ve left it barren.

Tessa whines.

“I know, I know, girl.” Tom looks at the dog, smiling sadly. Tessa looks miserable. “I miss her too, yeah? But it’s going to be okay.” His words hitch, and Tom reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he feels his heart clench. “It… It’s a bit fucked up, but it’ll be okay. She… She loves me, at least.” He breaks off, laughing awkwardly. “And she knows now, too, that I love her. And yeah, she still left, but… Maybe one day I’ll see her again.” Tom sighs. “Probably not, though. Bloody hell, I’m so… I’m so stupid, Tess.”

Tessa looks up at Tom. Tom sighs.

“And now I’m talking to my dog like a lunatic,” he mutters. Tom sits back against the pillows, hands settling over his stomach. “This is actually pathetic.”

Tessa emits a loud whine before jumping up onto the bed, her wet nose jutting into Tom’s neck. He sighs, smiling as he reaches up to run his hands all over her sleek body.

“You wouldn’t leave me, eh, Tess?” He mutters. “You love me?” He’s sitting up properly, smiling as Tessa basks in the cuddles, releasing happy yips. “Thought so.”

Tom stays in the spare room - your room - for almost an hour, cuddling with Tessa, pondering his predicament. He’s wallowing in it, miserably staring at the ceiling and torturing himself with the ins and outs of the conversation he’d had with you. He loves you, but he understands why you wouldn’t believe him. Tom understands that he’s hurt you and that he needs to respect your choice to leave, but that doesn’t make it any less gutting.

With a sigh, Tom stands from the bed. Tessa whines, and he rubs her head fondly before walking down into the kitchen. He spots his phone on the counter and picks it up, his heart clenching as his lockscreen pops up.

It’s a photo of you both, from many months ago. It feels like a distant memory now, but when you’d first been in London, you’d gone out bowling with Tom’s family. Afterwards, you’d all retreated to the pub, and you’d shared pints all evening. At some point, Sam had taken a photo of Tom with his arm wrapped around you. You have your cheek on his shoulder, and though it’s a little blurry, it has to be his favourite photo of you together. The way you’re looking up at him is with warmth in your eyes, and it makes Tom’s heart skip a beat to remember how nice it was to be resting at your side.

Swallowing down the resentful lump in his throat, Tom opens up his texts and clicks on your contact. With cold fingers, he types out a message, altering and adding bits for a shameful amount of time before sending off the completed thing.

Tom: Have a safe flight. I’m sorry for being such a dick. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I love you. I love you and I’ll wait for you. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to figure it out. I love you. Xxxxxxxxxx

With that done, Tom takes himself off into the living room and throws himself onto the sofa. He grumbles as he grabs a pillow and wraps his arms around it, holding it close. He keeps checking his phone, wondering if you’ll reply. The message changes to read almost as soon as he’s sent it, but after that, nothing. It only makes his heart ache more.

So, with nothing else to do but wallow in his misery, Tom closes his eyes. He tries to sleep, and after a while, Tessa curls up beside him. Slowly but surely, the noise in his head and the pain in his chest ease off enough for him to rest, and Tom lets the world of heartbreak drift away.

Knock knock.

Tom stirs, slowly.

Knock knock knock.

“Eh?”

Knockknockknock.

Tom sits up, disorientated and dizzy. It’s dark outside, but through the blinds in the living room, he can make out that the front light is on. Someone is at the door.

With a grunt, Tom stands up. Tessa wriggles around, and he pats her head softly as he stumbles towards the porch, frowning as he tries to remember if he’s ordered anything recently. He doesn’t think he has, but maybe Harrison’s been making impulse purchases in Liverpool. Tom hopes it’s something he can eat. Fuck, he’s hungry. How long has he been asleep?

Tom pulls the door open without a second thought, still groggy and tired from his nap, and he gets the shock of his life when his eyes catch sight of the person standing nervously on his doorstep.

You.

Before he can get a word in, you’re surging forward, your arms wrapping around Tom’s figure before he can process it. A short huff leaves his chest as you hug him tightly, continuing to push him until Tom’s back is up against the wall. You kick the door shut behind you, coat dripping rain onto the floor, and then you grab his face and kiss him.

Tom kisses you back, his brain waking up the moment your lips touch his. He’s slow, but he matches your movements eagerly, his palms going to your shoulders as he kisses you messily. You’re practically vibrating, your mouth curving into a smile so prominent that Tom can feel it brushing up against his face.

You came back.

Tom pulls away, his eyes prickling with tears of surprise. “Wh-What?” He stammers, smiling when you laugh. “But your flight?”

You shake your head softly. “I couldn’t do it,” you say. “I couldn’t leave, Tom.” You brush a hand through his hair. “I love you too.”

Tom kisses you again, his hands going to your face. He cradles your cheeks as he presses his lips to your mouth, over and over again, dazzled by the lightness in his chest. His heart has never felt so warm before.

“You are spectacular,” he mumbles, gushing mindlessly against your lips. “You are- you are wonderful. You are brilliant.” He breaks off as you giggle, pausing in his dialogue to kiss you again. “You are my favourite person.” Tom pulls back, looking at you fondly. His eyes trail the familiar lines of your face and he swoons, overcome with positive emotion. “I love you.”

You kiss his cheek softly. “I’m also very wet,” you say, shaking off a dripping arm. A sheepish expression crosses your face. “I, um, might need to borrow some clothes,” you murmur. “I kind of just… Turned around and ran out of the airport.” You grin nervously. “I think my suitcase is halfway to America by now.”

Tom scoffs, nodding. “That’s okay, love. I’m just so happy that you’re here.” So happy that you came back, that you don’t hate him. So happy that you love him too.

Tom reaches out and takes your hand, kissing over your knuckles gently. A thousand stars seem to twinkle in your eyes as you look at him.

“I’m happy too.”

An hour later, you’re both sitting on Tom’s living room floor, boxes of empty takeaway stacked around haphazardly. Tom’s leaning up against the sofa, legs outstretched in front of him. His arm is wrapped around you, and you have your head resting on his shoulder, and he feels more content than he’s ever felt in his life.

“I can’t believe you left your suitcases on the plane,” he murmurs, voice gentle. You’ve been sitting together and talking all evening. He’s been spacing every few sentences with another kiss to your temple, enjoying the expressions of fondness that find your face each time his lips touch your skin. You look very cute in one of his oversized hoodies. “Did you tell anyone that you left?”

“Nah.” You sit up, stretching suddenly and yawning. You turn around to look at Tom, eyes flickering out over him until you smile mischievously. You move closer, swinging one leg over Tom’s thighs before settling in his lap, your hands falling to his shoulders. A wave of your perfume washes over him, and Tom sighs contentedly as you kiss him quickly. “I told the flight attendants, but they couldn’t get my stuff off the plane. I thought it was worth it, though.”

“Oh, definitely.” Tom can’t stop kissing you. The urge to press his lips to yours whenever he wants is too powerful to ignore. “I’ll replace it all for you, if you want,” he mutters, distracted by your mouth. “I’d buy you a whole bloody house if you wanted, darling.”

You laugh against his lips. “That’s unnecessary, Tom, but very sweet.” You pause, pulling away with a bewildered expression on your face. “My lease expired on my flat,” you say, processing the words, “So I actually don’t have anywhere to stay.”

Tom wiggles his eyebrows. “Well, luckily for you, I know someone who just so happens to have a house all to himself.” He walks his fingers over your shoulder, smiling at you. “You might be able to convince him to let you stay. I hear he’s a very generous landlord.”

“Oh yeah? Happen to know where I can find him?”

He nods, grinning. “He’s right here, love.”

Tom goes back to kissing you for a while, both of you growing giddy off chaste pecks. His lips are numb and puffy but he loves it, loves the ache and the way the back of his neck hurts from all the tugging of his hair.

There’s a phone ringing, out in the porch. Both of you ignore it, even as it rings a second and a third time. When it dies after the fourth, you pull away from Tom’s lips to roll your eyes.

“It’s mine,” you mutter, “Just ignore it. I don’t care about whatever it is.” There’s a hunger in your eyes, and Tom smiles.

“Whatever you say, boss,” he teases, earning himself a flick on the shoulder.

“Don’t call me your boss,” you scowl, scrunching up your nose. “I’m not your boss.”

“Oh, do you want me to be the boss, then?” Tom returns.

You glare at him. “No. You’re not my boss. You’re…” You trail off, and Tom tilts his head to the side, smiling softly.

“What am I, darling?”

A smile curves out across your lips. “You’re my boyfriend.”

The warmth that unfurls in Tom’s chest as he hears those words almost brings tears of relief to his eyes.

“Yeah.” He brings a hand to your face and you nuzzle your cheek into his palm. “I am.” He kisses you, softly. “And I love you.”

“Love you too, boyfriend.” You look at him for a moment before tilting your head and kissing the flat of his palm. “I am overjoyed to be your girlfriend. Your real girlfriend.”

Tom laughs, nodding his head in quick agreement. “Yeah, I-”

His phone starts ringing. It vibrates over the glass coffee table, clattering noisily, and a shadow of irritation passes over his face. You turn around, craning your neck and screwing your eyes together as you get a read on the screen.

“Shit,” you mutter, grabbing the phone and passing it to him. “It’s Rebecca.”

Tom feels his mood sink. “Fantastic.” He looks at his phone before glancing up at you. “Should I answer it?”

You sigh as you nod. “She’ll just keep phoning.”

Rather reluctantly, Tom swipes his finger over the screen, accepting the call and then putting the device on speakerphone.

“Hello?” He says.

The line crackles for a moment. “Oh, hi there, Tom,” Rebecca says. “Is Y/N with you?”

Tom glances at you. You clear your throat before replying.

“Yes, I’m here. You’re on speaker.”

Rebecca swallows so loudly that it’s audible. “What have you done?” She whispers. “Paps got you leaving the airport.”

“I changed my mind,” you say. Tom reaches down and takes your hands in his, squeezing your fingers when he hears the waver in your voice. “I didn’t want to go back to LA.”

“They also got you going back to Tom’s house. The tabloids are going crazy. Nobody knows what’s going on.” Rebecca pauses, and then sighs, deeply. “What is going on?”

“I’m staying in London,” you tell her, eyes on Tom’s face. Your lips curl into a nervous smile, and you continue to look at Tom as you speak. “We’re not… We’re not breaking up, Rebecca. I don’t care if it’s not part of the plan.”

“So… You’re actually dating?”

You hum. “Yes.”

There’s a tense few moments. The sound of rustling papers comes down the line, and Tom tries to ease you by rolling his thumb over the back of your hand. He can see the nerves in your shoulders, understands that for you, the prospect of being scolded, and possibly even dropped by your management is terrifying. He knows just as well as you how much power they have over you.

“Okay.” Rebecca sighs. “Tom?”

“Yes?”

“You’ll take care of Y/N in London?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” There’s a brief moment’s pause. “I’ll get someone from the office to call you tomorrow, Y/N. You’ll need to come back to LA to shoot your next film, but I don’t see why that needs to be immediately.”

A relieved smile splits across your face, and Tom exhales.

“Thank you, Rebecca,” you say. You lean down to rest your forehead on Tom’s shoulder, and he rubs a hand over your back. “Thanks for understanding.”

“Well, it’s the least I can do,” she responds. “Congratulations, you two. For what it’s worth, I think you make a lovely couple.”

The line disconnects and Tom grins, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you impossibly closer. You squeal as he nuzzles his face into your shoulder, kissing the base of your neck over and over again. He works his way up to your lips, pausing briefly only to suck a light hickey just below your ear, and by the time he reaches your mouth, you’re pushing back against him, eager.

“I can’t believe that this has worked out,” he says. Tom lets you pad your thumb through his ruffled eyebrow.

“Neither,” you admit. “Feels almost anti-climactic. Every other part of this relationship has been so dramatic.”

“Oh, don’t tempt fate,” Tom says, eyes wide. “We’ve had enough drama.”

You laugh, nodding in fast agreement. “You certainly have a point there.”

You crack open a few beers and end up chatting in the kitchen together, the hours slipping away. Tom sits across from you, holding your hand as you talk, and talk, and talk, covering every topic beneath the sun. There have been so many taboo subjects that neither of you have felt confident enough to bring up over the course of your fake relationship, and you take the time to work them through - together.

Tom finally admits that he’s had a crush on you since you first met. You tell him that you’d only suggested the one night stand because you’d wanted to be close to him. He counters that by opening up about how stressed he’d been before his failed revelation of love.

You laugh together, you cry together. Then you move on, together.

“C’mon, Tom.” You stand up, smiling, and walk around the table to pull him up. Tom gets to his feet, his body full of a nice, lulling buzz from the beers he’d drank. You lean in and peck his cheek before tugging him towards the patio doors. “It’s too hot in here, isn’t it?”

Tom hums. He can feel the red flush to his cheeks. “We could go shower.”

You turn around to grin at him. “Or…” Dropping his hand, you twirl the lock on the patio doors and pull them open. You look back at Tom, smiling. “Care to take a dance in the rain with me, lover?”

Tom blinks a few times, looking at you curiously. “Sure,” he agrees. As you pull off your hoodie, he pulls out his phone and then turns on one of the bluetooth speakers that sits by the door. “What do you want to listen to?”

“Something romantic,” you respond.

There’s a frown of concentration on Tom’s face as he scrolls through his Spotify, but it clears when he finds a playlist of some classic love songs. He shuffles it and Elvis drifts through the air as he puts down his phone and shakes off his hoodie.

“This is very random,” he tells you, accepting your hand. You tug him out onto the patio, into the night sky, and Tom feels his t-shirt begin to dampen. It’s no longer pouring with rain, but it’s still drizzling enough to be noticeable.

“Well, I had a reason,” you murmur. Together, you do a bit of a dance. Tom grins as you spin around, laughing brightly as droplets of water stick to your face. You have fun for a while, and you even spin Tom around too, but then you both get dizzy and settle back into a loose slow-dance position, your arms around his neck as Tom perches his hands on your waist. Your foreheads press together. “I used to think about this,” you admit.

“Dancing in the rain?”

“No, no.” You pause to kiss him. Your lips are warm against his skin. “We’d used to see one another at all the shows. Oscars, BAFTA, Golden Globes… And we’d argue, or brood, and just generally be miserable.”

“I’m following.”

“Well.” You shift your face into the crook of Tom’s shoulder, kissing his neck a few times. “I always wondered what it’d be like to sneak off with you, and just… Have fun. Do something crazy. Have a couple drinks and dance. I didn’t… I didn’t like you, but I always thought we’d be able to have fun together. If you weren’t always such a dick.”

Tom hums, resting a hand on the back of your head. Raindrops pour down his face, but it’s nice. He can feel the weight of his heart pouring onto the ground, swept away with the water.

“Well, I hope we can have many fun nights together, love.”

You pull back to look up at him, water droplets clinging to your eyelashes. Both of your hands shift to Tom’s face, and you smile. It really is very romantic, swaying together in the rain, soft romantic tones in the air. You feel so warm wrapped up in his arms.

“I hope so too.” You have mascara running down your cheeks. “Plenty more nights in London like this, please.”

Tom nods. “Plenty more nights together.” He brings you back in, hand soft on the back of your head as you bury your face in his chest. Tom lets his lips rest against your head. “I love you,” he says. He can’t seem to stop saying it, thinks you must be fed up with the number of times he’s sprinkled the three special words into conversation. He just can’t help it. Now he’s open with his heart, he wants you to know, completely and without any shred of doubt, that he loves you. He never wants you to question it again.

Your hands sink into his hair, and Tom sighs happily as you play with his wet curls.

“Love you too.”

The two of you last another ten minutes before getting too cold, and then you take a shower together. Tom lays you down in his bed and you kiss some more, before things get a little raunchier. He tells you that he loves you in every way he can, and it feels like the two of you have knitted your souls together as he holds you afterwards, the bedroom full of a tranquil glow.

Tom’s hand is on your cheek, fingers stroking gently over the soft skin of your face. You look so beautiful, hair a mess, eyes bright.

“Isn’t it funny,” you say, softly, “how we’ve ended up like this?”

Tom hums, his pinky nudging against your hair. “We’re lucky. Such a mad world we live in.”

You release a warm chuckle, nodding. “Our world is crazy. Fame is… Insane.” You pause for a moment. “It’s the whole reason this happened. Management wanted me to stay on top, didn’t want my image to get shattered because of that kiss. They wanted me to win the game.”

Tom tilts his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“The fame game,” you reply, smiling. You inch nearer to kiss him quickly, and Tom finds himself chasing your lips. For a few moments, you’re both distracted, and you further intertwine, Tom’s arms hooking around your waist as he holds you close.

“The fame game,” Tom repeats, nose nudging yours. “That’s a funny way to put it.”

You shrug. “Just the way I like to think about it. Making it seem like a game made it easier when this started. It was all just a performance until it became real.”

“I like that.”

“Me too.” Your hands are on his shoulders, fingers trailing Tom’s warm skin. “The game always has its winners and its losers, Tom.”

“And what are we?”

You kiss him, softly. Your lips linger against his. Tom feels so much gratitude and love for you that his eyes prick with tears.

“The winners, of course.”

↠ EPILOGUE

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #i feel so !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#yes i cried. and what about it.#tfg #y/n #y/n use #self insert #self-insert

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atlafan · 4 years

Text

Burning Love - Part Three

a/n: the third and final part of this little series is here! I hope you enjoy! Feedback and reblogs are helpful! Support me here if you’re able! (not proofread)

Warnings: cocky!Harry flirting, a tiny bit of angst, fluff, and smut!

Words: 8K

Pairing: Harry x OC (kindergarten teacher Danielle Robinson)

Masterpost

Having a firefighter as a boyfriend was anything but boring. Sometimes Harry was called away in the middle of the night for backup, sometimes he had to straight up sleep at the fire house if someone was on vacation, and sometimes he was cooking up a storm so the guys coming back from a fire had plenty to eat. Danielle would sometimes help cook as well. The guys really liked her turkey chili.

Danielle’s classroom knew who her boyfriend was too, and they loved it when Harry would come by for a visit. He’d bring them little coloring books, or sometimes he’d get Doodle to come for an even better surprise visit.

When they were together three months, Harry made sure no one was in the fire house so she could come to his office, and he gave her a little strip tease. She had practically been begging him to play the part of the sexy fire fighter and he was finally doing it for her. The only condition was that he got to bend her over his desk and fuck her. She even let him hit it raw, it was the greatest mutual gift in the world. Also hearing her moan out, “You’re hitting it so good, don’t stop, Harry!” over and over was pretty nice too.

Yup, things had been going pretty well for the new couple. Even though they were still in the puppy-love phase, it wasn’t all sex all the time. Harry would sometimes come over and help her late into the night as she was crafting activities for her class the next day, or he’d go to the art supply store with her because Danielle never made a list and she would often forget at least one thing she needed for class. Harry always remembered what she’d forget. Danielle was also a big help with the fire department’s fundraising efforts. She made the best hash browns anyone had ever had at the monthly pancake breakfasts. The deputy fire chief even got them a matching set of aprons. Things were going so well that she even started to let him call her Dani.

One Sunday afternoon they were walking through the grocery store together. Harry liked pushing the cart for Danielle as she mumbled to herself about what she needed for the week. She liked that he joined her because he could pick out the snacks he wanted to leave at her place, and vice versa. They were walking down the coffee aisle, Harry liked Hazelnut and Danielle liked French Vanilla.

“Dani?”

Danielle looks over in the direction of the deep voice that said her name. Her eyes widen when she realizes it’s her ex, Oliver.

“O-Oliver?”

“Oh my god, it’s so good to see you!” He exclaims, throwing his arms around her. She doesn’t reciprocate. “It’s been what, three years?”

“Something like that.” She swallows, and hooks her arm around Harry’s waist. “This is my boyfriend, Harry.”

“Hi.” Oliver shakes Harry’s hand. “You shop here a lot?”

“Yeah…this is the grocery store closest to my apartment, why?”

“This is my first time as this specific store. My fiancé lives in the area, and we’re choosing to buy a house here so her son won’t have to switch elementary schools.”

“Her…her son?” Danielle wanted to smack him.

“Yeah, guess he’s like my son now too.”

“Olly? Did you find the decaf tea?” A woman long blond hair, and a slightly swollen belly comes rolling her cart down the aisle with a little boy sitting in it. “Oh…Danielle…hi.”

“Hi, Rory.”

“Miss Robinson!” The boy exclaims.

“Hello, Joey.” She tries to say with a smile. Danielle wasn’t sure how she could have been so stupid. Joey took the bus to and from school, and she had only ever spoken with his father. She also didn’t make a second glance at his mother’s name on his contact list since it was under Lorelei.

“Joey raves about you all the time.” Rory says, trying to cut some of the tension.

“Mumma, it’s Chief Harry!”

“Aw, nice of you to remember me, buddy.” Harry says. “Um, we’ve got frozen stuff in the cart, so we should probably get going, right, darling?” He says, looking at Danielle, and she feels thankful for him finding a way out of all this.

“He’s right, we should really get going.”

“Guess we’ll be seeing more of each other, huh, Dani?” Oliver says with a soft smile.

“So it would seem.” She looks at Joey. “See you tomorrow morning in class, Joey.”

Harry pushes the cart as they walk away. She was beyond mortified. They get in line and pay for their things. She had driven there, but she has Harry drive back to her place. She was quiet until they got inside her apartment to put the food away.

“He, uh, seemed a little delusional there, no?” Harry says.

“He’s always lived with his head in the sand.” She scoffs. “Rose colored glasses, you know?”

“Did you not know that-“

“No, I didn’t realize that Rory, the person he cheated on me with, had a son. I knew that she was a married woman. They got divorced because of Oliver.” She shakes her head. “Joey’s father is such a sweet man, I can’t believe I never put the pieces together.”

“How exactly did they meet?”

“The first school I worked at was a K-5 a few towns over. Rory was the principal’s secretary, she still is, I think. I brought Oliver with me to a holiday party, and they got to talking. She’s a couple of years older than he and I are. I don’t exactly know how things progressed from there, but apparently she’s pregnant with his kid, they’re engaged, and they’ve bought a house! Isn’t that just kick you in the crotch, spit on your neck fantastic?”

“Remind me to never watch Friends reruns with you again.” He chuckles. “I can’t believe he had the nerve to hug you like that?”

“He hugged me like that because he’s still in love with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Until I blocked him on literally every platform that I could, he would send me these messages about how he fucked up and that he’d do anything to win me back. He’s in a loveless relationship. He’s made his bed and now he has to lay in it.”

“Does Rory know it’s a loveless relationship?”

“I doubt it. If I had to guess they probably got engaged after they found out she was pregnant. It was probably her way of trapping him.” Danielle rolls her eyes. “You know what they say, once a cheater, always a cheater.”

“Well,” he comes around her to hold her from behind, kissing her cheek, “you don’t have to worry about that or pay it any more thoughts, alright?”

“Yeah.” She smiles and turns to kiss him. “I just hope I don’t start running into them all the time now.”

“We could always go to the market near my place, or we could do the online order thing.” He shrugs. “Whatever you wanna do. I just don’t want that idiot making my baby upset.” He pouts at her and she pouts back.

“I love that I get to be your baby.” She sighs as she nuzzles into his chest.

“Me too…I…I love you, Dani.” He kisses her forehead before she looks up at him.

“You do?”

“Mhm.” He smiles. “Guess there’s no perfect time to really say it, but that’s how I feel.”

“Oh, Harry, I love you too.” She kisses him, and blinks some tears away. “Like, a lot.”

“Let’s get these groceries put away, hm? Then I’ll fuck you on the counter. Would you like that, sweetheart?”

“I would, very much so.” She chuckles.

It was the last day of school, so Danielle had both of her groups in the morning. There was a small ceremony for the kindergarteners to commemorate them being able to move on to the first grade. They each got a personalized certificate with some type of achievement they earned in Miss Robinson’s class. She spent two weeks working on them. Once it was over, Danielle had to clean up her classroom for the summer.

“Happy last day of school, babe.” Harry says as he walks in, holding a small bouquet of flowers.

“I think you should ask for a separate office here with how often you come to visit.” She jokes as she takes the flowers. “Not that I’m upset, but what are these for?” She smiles.

“You made it through another year with a group of five-year-olds, thought you should have something nice for it.”

“Well, that’s very thoughtful, thank you.” She kisses his cheek. “I’m just finishing up here and then we can grab lunch.”

Harry nods as he waits for her, helping her take a few boxes out to her car. He thought she looked gorgeous today in her light blue sundress. They enjoy their lunch together before Harry has to go back to work.

“Wanna come to my place tonight?” She asks before they part ways.

“Sure.” He pecks her lips. “Want me to bring dinner?”

“No, I can cook. I’ve got stuff to make a taco salad.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later.” They kiss again and off they go.

Things had gotten quite domestic with one another, and Harry was really starting to like it. He also really liked that she was about to be off for the entire summer. Sure, Harry had bonfires, lawn mowers, grills, and other things of that nature to worry about, but his group of volunteer fire fighters would be coming on once again, so it freed up a little more time for himself. He’d be able to take a vacation with Danielle if she wanted. Or he could just take a ton of long weekends so he could spend some time with her. He wasn’t exactly sure what she did over the summer, but he figures they’ll talk about it soon.

When Harry gets to her apartment later that night, he realizes soon means tonight. Danielle was running around her apartment in a tank top and shorts boxing things up and packing.

“Hey, uh, what are you doing?” He says, startling her.

“Oh! I didn’t even hear you come in!” She gasps and clutches at her chest. “Sorry, I’m just trying to get my shit together. I always save this stuff for the last minute.”

“Are you moving?” He asks, almost frantic.

“What? No.” She chuckles. “But I do need a lot of my things with me for when I go up to Seabrook.”

“Seabrook?”

“To my parents’ summer house. I told you they had one, they’re snowbirds, remember?”

“Yeah, you mentioned that…” He swallows. “Are you going for a long weekend?”

“No, I’m going for the majority of the summer. I was actually sort of hoping you’d be able to water some of my plants, but if you can’t I can ask the neighbor again.” She goes over to him and gives him a kiss. “Come on, I set dinner up in the kitchen for us.”

They both go into the kitchen and sit down with their taco salads.

“You’re sort of blindsiding me a bit, babe. I mean, you’ve known you were going to New Hampshire all this time and didn’t think to tell me?”

“I figured I’d come back on weekends.” She shrugs. “You’re going to be working all day, so I figured you wouldn’t really mind if I wasn’t around as much.” She takes a bite of her food. “I also thought maybe you could come up and visit…you know, meet my family.”

“It’s gonna be torturing not being able to come over and see you after work.” He pouts. “But of course I’d love to meet your family.”

“I know…that’s sort of why I was keeping it to myself. I’ll miss you just the same, I hope you know that. This is just really precious family time that I wait all year for.”

“I get it.” He sighs. “What weekend would you want me to come meet them?”

“I’ll have to ask my parents what weekend would work best for them. The first couple of weeks are spent catching up with their friends, and whatnot. The house is in a fifty-five and over community.”

“And you won’t mind driving back on weekends?”

“Not at all.” She shakes her head. “All of the traffic will be going the other way, and the beaches are always so crowded on the weekends. It’ll be perfect.” She smiles at him and leans in a bit. “Plus, I’ll be coming back to you with sun kissed skin. I’ll have lots of tan lines to show you.” She winks and it makes him chuckle.

“Alright, alright. I get to use more time off in the summer, so I’ll be able to take lots of long weekends. We have more of a crew because a lot of our volunteers are teachers, so they have more time to help out.”

“That’s good! I’m so happy the school year is over with. Did you see I put the flowers you got me in a vase?” She points over to the vase in her kitchen window.

“I did.” He nods, a smile growing on his lips. “M’glad you liked them.”

“I loved them.” She kisses his cheek. “You’re so sweet to me, Harry.”

“You’ve turned me into a total mush ball.” He sighs. “But I suppose that’s not a bad thing.”

“You were a mush ball the second you walked into my classroom for the first time.” She smirks.

“And you were a flustered little thing.” He smirks as her face falls. “Ah, she can dish it out, but she can’t take it.” He kisses her temple and takes their now empty plates to the sink. “When are you heading up?”

“A couple of days.” She sighs. “I hate packing so much, it’s the worst.” She groans. “I just keep telling myself I’ll be relaxing on a screened in porch soaking in the ocean breeze with a book in my hand before I know it.” She flops down onto her sofa and Harry sits next to her, rubbing her back. “At least I’ll see my niece and nephew soon too. I love getting to spend so much time with them.”

“Tell me about them, I wanna know as much about your family as I can before I meet them.”

“Really?” She sits up to look at them.

“Mhm.” He puts a pillow on his lap. “Come lay one me. I’ll play with your hair while you talk.”

“If I didn’t love you before.” She giggles, and rests her head in his lap. He starts scratching at her scalp and she sighs. “Okay, so, my dad…”

They both fell asleep on the couch that night talking. Harry told Danielle a lot about his family as well. In the wee hours of the morning, Harry carried her to the bed, and they both snuggled up while they got a few more hours of sleep.

“Danielle, it’s the middle of the night! Where are you going?!” Her brother Clark asks her in a panic. “Shit, are you crying?”

“I…I just got a call.” She sniffles as she throws her hoody on. “I have to get home.”

“Why, what’s happening.”

“H-Harry’s deputy chief called me…there was a really big fire a few hours ago, and a wall collapsed on him, and now he’s in the hospital.” Tears were streaming down her cheeks. “I have to get home to him, Clark, I need to be there when he wakes up.”

“You’re in no condition to drive, especially not for two hours. I’ll go with you. Let me just go to Isabelle.”

“You don’t have to do that, I’m fine.” She wipes her eyes. “I’ll let you know when I get there. I’ll be back in a few days, I’m sure of it.”

She rushes out of the house and gets into the car. She had the radio practically silent, and she was sucking down an iced coffee. Caffeine put her anxiety into hyper drive, but she needed to stay awake somehow. Harry wasn’t even supposed to be at that fire. He got called in as backup, but he wasn’t supposed to go inside. He went in looking for the family’s new puppy.

Once she gets to the hospital, probably looking like a mad woman in her pajama pants and oversized hoody, she checks in and asks where Harry’s being kept.

“Please, I’m his girlfriend, I need to-“

“Dani!” The deputy chief, Ralph, comes rushing towards her. “He just woke up, come with me.” He yanks her by the wrist before the nurse at the desk can say anything.

“Is he okay?”

“He will be.” Ralph nods. “Here we are, go ahead in. Take your time with him.” Ralph smiles, and Danielle returns it.

“Harry?” She says just above a whisper.

“Hey, baby.” He gives her a soft smile. “What are you doing here?”

“I hopped in my car a second after Ralph called me. I was so worried.” She sits on the edge of his hospital bed.

“I’m okay, sweetheart, just a few scrapes and bruises.”

“Harry…your arm’s in a sling.”

“Just a sprained wrist, it’ll heal up real soon.”

“How can you be so calm about this?” She asks as she curls up next to him. He throws his arm around her and sighs.

“Because if I let every little accident scare me, I wouldn’t be able to do my job properly. This is what I signed up for, babe.”

“Did you at least find the puppy?”

“I did, shielded the poor thing from the wall that collapsed on me. M’gonna have to go on light duty for a while.”

“Which means what exactly?”

“Lots of administrative work…that I can do remotely. So, I was thinking…maybe I could come up to Seabrook with you for a little longer than a weekend.”

“I’d love that! We can drive back up together. Everyone’s excited to meet you.”

“I’m excited to meet them too.”

After Harry rested up for a few days at home, with Danielle doting on him even though he told her she didn’t need to, the two drive up north together.

“Auntie Dani’s back!” Sarah exclaims as she bursts out of the porch.

“Sarah!” Isabelle yells after her. “We don’t run out of the house, no matter how excited we are to see Auntie.” She picks her daughter up. “Sorry, Dani.” Isabelle chuckles.

“No worries.” Danielle laughs. “This is my boyfriend, Harry. Harry, this is my sister-in-law Isabelle.”

“Hi.” Harry says, and Isabelle gasps when she sees his arm in a sling. “Just a sprained wrist, m’fine.” “It’s nice to meet you. This must be Sarah, yeah?”

“Hello.” The little girl smiles.

“Come on, everyone’s inside getting ready to head down to the beach.” Isabelle says.

Harry and Danielle follow inside. She takes him into the kitchen where her parents, Robert and Donna were finishing up their coffee.

“Dani!” Donna smiles. “How was the ride back up?”

“Fine, not a lot of traffic once we were out of the city.” She smiles. “This is Harry.”

“The hero that saved the puppy!” Robert says.

“I’m no hero, just did my job. It’s nice to meet you both. Thank you for inviting me to your home.” He shakes both of their hands.

“Are you kidding? We were over the moon when Dani said she’d be bringing a boyfriend with her.” Donna says. “Honey, why don’t you help Harry get settled and then meet us down at the beach?”

“Okay.” Danielle nods.

The two bring their things inside while everyone else makes their way to the beach. Danielle helps Harry put his clothes away in the dresser.

“So…are we alone right now?” Harry asks casually after putting his things away in the bathroom.

“Um, yeah. Everyone went down to set up at the beach, why?”

“Well…” He sits down on the bed and tugs her to sit on his lap, straddling her. “I haven’t been able to do much the last few days, and I’d like to make up for it.”

“Harry.” Her face flushes. “I can’t just fuck you here.”

“In the privacy of a bedroom? Here I was thinking this would be the perfect place.” He rolls his eyes.

“I just…” She bites her bottom lip. Before she can say anything when she opens her mouth again, he’s kissing her. “Fuck, okay, but we have to be quick. And no leaving marks, I don’t need to feel like a teenager at the age of twenty-seven.”

“How about no marks in any visible places?”

“Harry, I’m gonna be wearing a two piece, a lot is going to be visible.”

“Your ass?”

She whimpers softly and kisses him again. They both fall back on the bed, careful not to hurt his wrist. Danielle ended up riding his dick since he couldn’t really prop himself up with hands at the moment, but neither of them minded. It was a much-needed release for the both of them. Once they’re both cleaned up, they change into their bathing suits and go down to the beach to join her family.

“Auntie Dani, do you wanna dig a moat with me?” Ryan asks her the second she sets her things down.

“Sure! Just let me get some sunscreen on, okay?”

“You’re already looking a little red.” Clark remarks, and she glares at him. “Nice to meet you, Harry.”

“Same to you.” Harry says as he sits down in his beach chair.

Danielle peels her coverup off, and lathers up in sunscreen before grabbing a sand toy to help Ryan dig a moat. Isabelle was down by the water with Sarah.

“Harry, do you like seafood?” Donna asks him.

“I do.” He nods.

“Wonderful, I thought it would be nice to go out to eat since you’re here with us now. Celebrate having a full house and whatnot.”

“Oh, well…that sounds nice, thanks.” Harry smiles at her.

“I hope you won’t be too miserable working from inside the house…there’s no central air or anything.” Robert says.

“Oh, it’s not a problem. Heat doesn’t exactly bother me.” He smirks, and Danielle flicks some sand at him. “Oi, what was that for?!”

“No fire fighter jokes or puns.” She points a finger at him warningly. “We’re on vacation.”

“Come on, that was a good one, admit it.”

“I will do no such thing.” She looks at her parents who were chuckling at the exchange. “Don’t encourage him, it’ll only make it worse.”

“Anyways,” he side eyes her and then looks back at her parents, “I’ll probably just set up on the porch when I need to hop onto email. My deputy chief is taking on a bit more for me for the next couple of weeks.”

Harry never really saw himself being a dad someday, but as the day went on, and he watched Danielle interact with Sarah and Ryan, he suddenly understood why women would get baby fever seeing a man hold a baby. He may have only been with Danielle for five months, but fuck…he wanted to be the father of her kids. Yes, he got to spend an entire week with her and her classroom, but it’s not like he got to witness her loving on any of the kids. The way she cradled four-year-old Sarah to her chest as she napped, or splashed around in the water with Ryan, well, if he had ovaries they’d be bursting.

Seeing her help them at dinner was just as cute too. Sarah insisted that her booster chair be places next to Danielle, and Danielle ended up helping cut up Sarah’s chicken fingers. Then Harry got to witness Danielle tucking Sarah and Ryan in for the night to give Clark and Isabelle a break.

The two decide to turn in a bit early since it had been a long day. Danielle was sitting up in bed reading her romance novel. Harry was reading the same one. They had formed a little book club with another once they found out they liked the same genre of fiction.

“Dani?” He says to her.

“Hm?” She says without looking at him.

“Do you think you wanna have kids of your own one day? Or are your kindergartners enough kids for you?”

She immediately closes her book and looks at him. She was a little shocked.

“I…I always thought if I met the right person then I’d want to have kids. Like, turning that love into something physical, you know? What’s got you asking me about kids all of a sudden?”

“In all honesty…watching you with Ryan and Sarah today sort of sparked my interest. You’re so good with them in so many different ways. I…I mean I never really thought twice about having kids, but if you and I decide this is a long term thing…I’d love to be the person you have kids with.”

“Thought you didn’t like playing the what if game.” She leans in and pecks his lips.

“I don’t.”

“Okay, so, it’s not an if with us, Harry, it’s a when.”

He smiles and kisses her tenderly.

“You’re the love of my life, you know that?” He says against her lips before kissing her again.

The school year was just about to start again. Classes would begin just after Labor Day. How were Harry and Danielle spending their long weekend? Well, she was currently bouncing up and down on his dick reverse-cowgirl on her couch while he sucked a nasty bruise into her neck, rubbing her clit with one hand, and kneading one of her breasts with the other. She felt like she was drooling from how good everything felt. The two of them had both tanned nicely over the summer, and now they Danielle was fully back in her apartment, Harry was taking full advantage.

“Fuck, fuck!” She pants. Harry was thrusting up into her, pounding against her g-spot.

It was how she liked it, she didn’t care if she was sore later, and he was happy to give it to her like this. She turns her head slightly and she licks into his mouth to suck on his tongue. He replaces his tongue in her mouth with two of his fingers, which she was happy to suck on while his fingers continued to work her clit. They had been together for a while now, and sometimes when you were a little older, time didn’t make much of a difference when you were trying to check off certain boxes with the person you loved most. So, Harry just blurts out what he’s thinking.

“I think we should move in together.” He grunts, and she gasps around his fingers.

“Wh-what?” She says, whining because she’s so very close. This wasn’t the type of talk she enjoyed during sex. “Harry, please, I’m almost there, can we talk about this after?” She tugs at his hair, making him groan.

He grips her hips, helping her rock faster on him, and she goes to rub her own clit. He was fucking so hard and deep that she thought her spine was going to crack in half, but she didn’t fucking care. She wanted it. He hits it just right again, and her eyes roll into the back of her head as her back arches, her body molding into his as she rides it out. His come shoots up inside her a moment after, and he presses his lips to her temple. She tries to move off him, but he wraps his arms around her tummy to keep here there.

“Can we talk now?” He breathes, his breath hot on the shell of her ear and she whimpers. “I really think we should live together.”

“And whose place do you want to live at, hm? We’re both pack rats, Har. We both need home offices, we both-“

“Just answer the question: do you want to live together?”

“Yes.” She looks over her shoulder at him. “I do.”

“Okay, then.” He smiles and gently lifts her off of him. “Right when we started dating, I got pre-approved for a home loan.” He wraps her up in the blanket she has on the couch and carries her into the bedroom so they can both lay down before cleaning themselves up. “I put the house hunting on hold, obviously…I’d need to get pre-approved again since the three-month window they gave me lapsed, but…I can afford a pretty decent house.” He smiles fondly at Danielle. She had that after sex glow to her, and it always made him melt.

“You…you can afford a house?”

“I can.” He nods. “Been saving up for a while. I was sort of hoping…well…we could look at houses together. I could buy it, and then we could split the mortgage payments, or I could just pay the mortgage and you could take care of the utilities and other bills. Whatever makes more sense.” He shrugs. She blinks a few times and then licks her lips.

“I just…wow, I can’t believe you wanna do something so huge with me. Buying a house with someone is a pretty big deal.”

“I feel like it makes more sense to buy the house first, and then save back up for a wedding later, but that’s just me.” He gives her a smug look and her eyes widen. “I think that’s why the divorce rate is too high, not enough people live together before they get married.” A grin starts to form on her lips. “Don’t look at me like that, we’ve talked about long-term stuff before.”

“We’ve talked about hypothetical babies, not buying a house. Do you already have a realtor?”

“No, and we don’t really need one. We can just look up the houses we wanna see and contact the realtor that’s selling the home. A friend of mine did that and they said it was a way better experience.”

“I can’t believe this.” She shakes her and then giggles, throwing her arms around his neck. “You wanna be us a house! I wish I could help with the down payment, but my student loans have prevented me from putting a lot into my savings…”

“It’s no problem. You’re able to afford this place on your own, so I figured you’d be able to help with bills and stuff.”

“I definitely will be able to.” She kisses his cheek. “Let’s go take a shower and then we can start looking on realtor.”

“Eager.” He smirks as she tugs him up from the bed.

“Now’s the time to buy! All of the snowbirds who are looking to make the big plunge to warm weather full time will be looking to get rid of their houses, and with the school year starting we don’t really have to worry about competing with families. It’s perfect, Harry!”

It was, it really was.

By the beginning of October, the two were moved into a stunning home with four bedrooms, and four baths. They got just about everything on their wish list, and anything they didn’t, Harry said he could make happen. Danielle was able to pass out candy for Halloween to the kids in the neighborhood, which delighted her to no end because a few of her new and previous students stopped by. And when it came time for Thanksgiving, even though they weren’t full unpacked, Danielle was able to host a fabulous dinner for her family.

It wasn’t always perfect, they disagreed on paint colors, furniture, curtains, and rugs. They usually found some way to compromise, though. Sometimes Danielle had trouble checking her attitude at the door. There was one evening she got home a little later than usual, so Harry got dinner started. A nice gesture on his part, which she thanked him for. However, when it came time to clean up, she wouldn’t stop huffing while she loaded the dishwasher.

“Alright, what’s wrong?” He finally asks. “Why are you reorganizing everything?”

“Because you never put anything in here right.” She snaps. “Bowls and cups go on the top rack. Look at this! You put one of the little plates up here, how the fuck is that supposed to get cleaned properly?” She says as she moves the small plate to the bottom rack. “You also don’t load the silverware correctly. Did you want me to stab myself?! I’m usually the one that has to unload it.” She huffs again after throwing a pod in and turning the dishwasher on. She crosses her arms and looks at him. “I’m your girlfriend, not your mother.”

“I never said you were.” He crosses his arms as well, astonished at her tone.

“Yeah? So, did you think that your dirty socks and underwear just magically picked themselves up and put themselves into your hamper? Did you think that the bed magically gets made? Did you think that the broom and dustpan do a little fucking dance and that’s how the shmutz on the floor gets cleaned up?!”

“You’re making it seem like I don’t do anything to help out around here. I’m the one that rakes the leaves and mows the lawn, I’m the one that has to stop what I’m doing to come kill a bug every time you yelp, I’m the one that takes care of all the trash in the house-“

“Only when I say something about it overflowing. I have to tell you to do everything!”

“Look, I’m sorry I don’t load the dishwasher in the way that you’d prefer, but the dishes get clean, so-“

“No, they don’t. I either have to run it again, or I wash the stuff by hand. We’re gonna have kids someday, Harry, I don’t want them picking up on your bad habits.”

“My bad habits?!” Okay, now he was getting angry. “I have to ask you to clean your hair out of the shower drain. In fact, your hair is fucking everywhere! You never wipe off the mirror after you pop a pimple, which you know you shouldn’t be doing anyway.” He rolls his eyes. Her face falls into a deep frown. “Not so much fun when someone’s pointing out your flaws, is it?”

“Fuck off.” She turns on her heel and makes her way out of the kitchen.

“Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be. You’re going to start an argument with me, but you’re not going to finish it?” He says as he follows her out to the staircase.

“You asked me what was wrong, and I told you.” She states.

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to be such a bitch about it.” Her eyes widen with anger at that, and her nails press into her palms. She starts stomping her way upstairs. “Dani.” He sighs. “Shit, I didn’t mean to say that.” He follows her up the stairs.

“But you did.” She goes into the bedroom and almost shuts the door in his face, but he catches it, making his way in. “You men are all the same, you know that? Any time a woman calls you out on some crap, she’s a bitch.”

“You got upset over something as insignificant as loading a dishwasher. You know we’re lucky to even have one? There are people who don’t have the luxury.”

“Yeah, I know! And I’d probably be the one to always be washing the dishes.”

“If it bothered you that much, then why didn’t you say something to me before?”

“Because I didn’t want to come off as naggy! I don’t want to be one of those women that’s always telling their partner what to do and how to do it, but holy fuck, who actually raised you?! I mean, some of the things you do, I just don’t understand.” She shakes her head.

“We were obviously raised differently.” He sighs. “You know if you just told me-“

“But I don’t want to have to tell you! I don’t want to have to ask because I shouldn’t have to.”

“I’m not a mind reader, Dani!”

“I’m not asking you to be! But when the sink is full of dishes, do you think you could take care of it without me having to mention it? Do you think that when the trash is full you could just bag it up and take it and put a new bag in? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve accidentally thrown something out without a bag being in the barrel. It drives me bananas!”

“Okay, I’ll…I’ll try to be better about those things. I don’t want you to feel like you’re having to pick up after me.” He runs a hand through his hair.

“And…I’ll try to not just explode on you when something’s been bothering me.” She sits on the bed and lays back. “Ugh, I just had a long day. Kids are starting to get colds, and the meeting I had after school just wouldn’t end, I’m supposed to get my period in a couple of days so I feel bloated and gross.” Harry sits down next to her and rubs her thigh. He looks down at her with a soft smile. “Listen to me.” She sighs. “Here I am complaining about stupid things when you literally put your life at risk every time you go to work.”

“Don’t compare us, babe. You’re allowed to feel annoyed and stressed.”

“How do you always stay so calm?” She tugs him down to lay with her.

“I don’t know. It’s hard to stay upset when I have such a cute girlfriend.” He kisses her cheek and she giggles.

“I’m sorry I got so mad.”

“It’s okay, baby.” He kisses her cheek again. “We’re bound to have an argument once in a while. The most important thing is that we always make up afterwards.” He starts kissing on her neck and she bites her bottom lip.

“Harry, I just told you that I feel bloated and gross, and-“

“So, let me make you feel not gross.” He says as he moves on top of her. “Let me love on you, darling, it’ll help you destress.” He moves her up the bed until he’s situated between her legs. He undoes her pants and drags them down her legs. “Are you wearing boxer-briefs?” He questions.

“Y-yeah? I started buying them a little while ago. They’re more comfortable, and they breathe better. Plus, no panty lines.”

“How did I not notice this?” He blinks.

“Because I usually change when I get home into something a little sexier.” She chuckles.

“Actually…” He tugs on the band and lets it snap back against her skin. “You look pretty sexy in these.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He tugs them off of her and kisses on her tummy. He parts he legs and licks around her folds. She sighs and lets her body rest into the mattress.

“I really feel like I don’t deserve this since I was so nasty to you.” She says as she cards her finger through his hair.

“You can make it up to me by letting me fuck your mouth afterwards. Seems like you could use a break from running it, hm?” He sucks on her clit, making her groan, and she nods.

“Yeah, seems fair to me.” She gasps as he licks into her warm center, and uses his thumb on her clit. “Would you make me come a few times, though, at least?”

Her gives her a devilish smirk, which she takes as a yes while he continues to work his tongue in and out of her. He gave her four orgasms before crawling up her body and stuffing his throbbing down her throat. Feeling her nails dig into his hips as he thrusted in and out of her was everything he needed. They didn’t do stuff like this often. He didn’t want to be one of those couples where certain types of sex or positions were used as punishments. But he knew Danielle genuinely enjoyed feeling a little bit of pain, not that they’d ever talked about it. He didn’t want to embarrass her by bringing up one of her very obvious kinks. Whenever he did fuck her throat, though, she always moaned around him, and she’d end up drenched between her legs all over again, so he knew she enjoyed it. He also made sure to love on her right afterwards, praising her, telling her how good she did for him, and he’d get a glass of water for her to sip on while he cleaned her up. They had good, healthy relationship in many aspects. He loved her, he really fucking loved her, and he never wanted to be without her.

“Dani, fuck, I love you, I love you so much, shit!” He cries out as he comes down her throat. He pulls away from her carefully and she smiles up at him after swallowing. He wipes a few stray tears away from her cheek.

“I love you too.” She says, voice hoarse, but still there.

“Do you feel like taking a bath tonight? I could rub your shoulders for you.”

“I’d like that, yeah, thanks.”

A couple of months later, and it was fire safety week once again. They made it through their first holiday season together, and his thirty-third birthday. Now they had been together an entire year, owned a home together, and were looking into potentially getting a dog. Harry had told her all about the senior dogs at the shelter, and Danielle sort of liked the idea of not having to train a puppy, even if they were undeniably cute.

All of the kids in both of Danielle’s groups knew that Chief Styles was Miss Robinson’s very special friend because she had a picture of the two of them on her desk, and one of him as her desktop wallpaper. It was no surprise that some of the kids teased them a bit, and asked some personal questions, but other than that the week was going well as it usually did. When Friday rolled around, it was time for the kids to put on their performance for the fire department. It was an assembly all of the grades came to, along with the other teachers. Once the four songs, and a skit, are over, Harry goes up to give his thanks just as he did last year.

“Thank you all so much for another fantastic week. Fire safety is extremely important to learn at a young age. I know we had a lot of fun together, but remember, when you’re missing Chief Styles, don’t call 911 to talk to him. Have your parent or guardian come down to the fire house, and we can say hello there, alright?” That was usually where the assembly would end, but today things were going to go a little differently. “If I could have all of the kids back up on stage for a moment? Parents, I promise this won’t take more than a couple of minutes.”

Danielle was visibly confused because she hadn’t planned anything else with the students, and Harry hadn’t mentioned adding anything special today. So, she sat in her seat in the front row and watched. She leaned over next to one of her colleagues.

“Do you know what’s going on?” She asks.

“Just watch, Dani.” Her colleague says, and Danielle sits up straight in her seat again.

All of the kids were holding a piece of paper in their hands. It was facing blank towards the audience. Some of them were giggling as Harry and the other fire fighters placed them in certain spots. Ralph gives Harry a thumbs up, and he starts speaking into the microphone again.

“Not a lot of people know this, or maybe they do, I don’t really know, but last year was my first year getting to host fire safety week with the lovely Miss Robinson, and over this last year she’s managed to steal my heart, giving me the great privilege of calling her my girlfriend.” The kids behind him snicker and giggle. “You said you’d all be cool, come on.” He looks over at Danielle, who still really had no idea what the fuck was going on. “Miss Robinson, could you come here for a moment?”

She nods, and gets up slowly, walking over to him. He takes one of his hands in hers.

“What are you doing?” She whispers.

“You’ll see.” He winks. “Miss Robinson has taught her kids how to spell lots of interesting words already this year. She teaches them how to sound things out, and all that good stuff. I had a chance to teach them something this week and they’ve been dying to show you.” He tugs her to the side so the whole audience will be able to see. “Alright, kids, flip your papers over to show Miss Robinson.”

She gasps when she sees it, cupping a hand over her mouth as her eyes start to well up. All of the papers spelled out: M I S S – R O B I N S O N – W I L L – Y O U – M A R R Y – M E ? She looks at Harry, who was now down on one knee, holding up a gorgeous ring in a little black, velvet box.

“It says, Miss Robinson, will you marry me?” He says to her with a beaming smile.

“I can see that.” She says, wiping some tears from her cheeks.

“Will you?”

“Yes! Oh my god, yes.” Everyone in the room cheers as Harry slips the ring on her finger. He stands up, and kisses her, not to vulgarly because there were kids around, but enough to show how happy he was that she said yes. “When did you have the time to plan all of this with them?”

“Got their parents’ emails from one of the other teachers.” He smirks. “Are you surprised?”

“I’m shocked!” She turns to her students. “You all kept such a big secret from me!” They crowd around her to hug her as she opens her arms for them.

A ton of the teachers, parents, and fire fighters all come up to the congratulate the pair. Once all of the fuss is over, and the cafeteria is cleared, Harry and Danielle go back to her classroom so she can pack up her things for the day.

“Do you like the ring?” He asks nervously.

“Are you kidding, I love it! It’s so beautiful, baby.” She pecks his lips. “I can’t wait to call my parents, I’m buzzing! Think of how cute Sarah’s going to be as a flower girl. Oh, and they’ll start calling you Uncle Harry, how sweet!”

“Gonna have to let Ryan be a groomsman, or I think he’ll try to kill me.” Harry chuckles. “He’s quite protective over his Auntie Dani.”

“And don’t you forget it.” She presses her finger to his chest. He leans in and kisses her tenderly. Normally, Danielle didn’t like getting so lovey dovey in her classroom, but she figured she had a good excuse in case anyone walked in. “I still can’t believe you planned all of that and pulled it off. Those kids usually can’t keep a secret.”

“I promised them all a ride in one of the fire trucks if they kept their mouths shut.”

“Damn, that was really smart.” She chuckles.

“I’d say so.” He smirks. “Do you feel like going out to eat tonight to celebrate? Ralph and his husband were hoping to treat us.”

“Sure.” She nods. “I’ll just need to cancel my yoga classes really quick.”

“You can still teach your classes if you want. I can just tell him we won’t be ready until later.”

“No, see, I wanna go home, and stay there for a bit.” She tugs on the suspenders that were keeping his fire pants up. “I’d like to celebrate with you privately first, Chief Styles.” She takes his hat off and puts it on her own head before catching his bottom lip between her teeth and sucking on it. He groans into the kiss, and she lets his lip snap back. He had inadvertently put her into one of her ‘Chief Styles/Miss Robinson’ moods, which he wasn’t upset about in the least. “How’s that sound?”

“Well, Miss Robinson, I’d say it sounds like you’re trying to seduce me.” He smirks, and she rolls her eyes. It was her least favorite joke.

“I can’t wait to be Danielle Robinson Styles so that you can’t make that stupid fucking joke anymore. I’m not a forty-year-old woman seducing a recent college grad!” His face softens immensely. “What?”

“Nothing.” He puts his hands on her hips and gives her a squeeze. “I just…I didn’t think you’d want to change your name, is all.”

“Harry, I’d be proud to be called Mrs. Styles. Think of how cute it’ll be after we get married and I have a new class, and then when you come in for fire safety week, I’ll be able to say my husband, Chief Styles.” She pouts at him.

“Alright, it’s time we get you home before my stiffy pops through my pants.”

She giggles as she grabs her bag, and they both rush out of her classroom, and out to the car. They held hands the while way home, not wanting to be apart from one another’s touch for even a second.

#burning love #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles series #harry styles x oc #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #firefighter!harry #firefighterry

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yuta-nakamots · 4 years

Text

Playing Games - n.yt

Pairing - Frat Boy!Yuta x Reader

Genre - College!AU, Fluff, Smut, Slight Angst

Warnings - Safe sex, swearing, alcohol consumption

Summary - Yuta is a notorious frat boy known for sleeping around with tons of girls yet never getting into a relationship. You never would have thought you’d become entangled with him until fate ends up placing both of you in the same beginner guitar class during your spring semester.

Word Count - 11.2k

A/N - i do not condone or promote the behavior or fraternities or sororities, especially during COVID-19, read a bit about it here. i am simply writing about my own fantasy in my own ideal world. with that being said, please remember to wear your masks and stay safe out there. this one shot will be my first work with smut in it so i’m open to pretty much any and all feedback. special thank you to @neocitybynight for helping me work out some of the plot!

Tag List - @jisungismymom @jikooksgirl19 @jungcity @boiolay @yasmini24

Written for the Bingo Collab hosted by @legendnct. Check out the masterlist here.

Prompts;

"Baby, I’m afraid to fall in love. ‘Cause what if it’s not reciprocated?” – Pink Sweat$ - Honesty

“So won’t you say my name, say my name?”– summer walker - playing games

“Don’t follow me, you’ll end up in my arms” – Joji - SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK

“Can you focus on me? Baby can you focus on me?”– H.E.R - focus

“Oh, how I love you. I just feel so lost without you.”– McKay & Jeff Bernat - Angel 2 Me

It’s the first day of your second semester of college and you’re starting to rethink your decision of signing up for Guitar 101 as you step into the classroom. You don’t remember what pushed you to add this course to your schedule other than the fact that it would knock off two off your graduation requirements, though surely there were other courses that could’ve done that as well.

You were quite the beginner to guitar, having only touched one maybe only a few times in your life and you were sure that you absolutely would not have ever thought about taking Guitar 101 if it wasn’t for your friend Mark, who had suggested it to you.

Mark is a sweet guy and you just so happened to have the pleasure of meeting last semester in your math class. He had walked in late on the first day and took the seat next to you as he muttered something about the campus being too big and not having building names displayed clearly.

Your friendship truly started the day he came in without any of his belongings, not even his backpack. “I, uh, woke up late and ran to class. Literally.” You could tell from the way sections of his hair were standing up and how his white t-shirt was inside out, but you didn’t tell him that.

“If it’s okay with you, can you send me your notes later?” He asked, his eyes resembling that of boba. Mark let out an audible sigh of relief when you agreed and handed him your phone to type in his number. As soon as he gave it back to you, you sent him a message to make sure he typed it correctly and it was at that moment that Mark realized, after a whole month of sitting next to you and occasionally working together, he had yet to remember your name.

‘Hey, this is y/n. Still can’t believe you forgot your backpack’

The two of you fit together like puzzle pieces and you always did your work together at any given opportunity, finding that two heads are definitely better than one when it came to calculus. Sometimes working on projects together often led to you and Mark spending more time together and eventually leading both of your guys’ friends to speculate that you were dating, to which you insisted was not true.

Your friends seemed to understand and leave it be, though Mark’s friends were a whole different story. He was part of one of the newest frats on campus which had come to fame due to their good-looking members, not a single one of them falling even a hair short of having god-tier visuals. You recognized a few of them, having been to their frat house a couple of times to work on projects with Mark though most of them were older than you so it came as a surprise to you when you saw one of them in your beginner guitar class.

You didn’t know his name but he was easy to remember with his long black hair and his ever-changing fashion sense. Today, he resembled something out of a motorcycle magazine with his maroon leather jacket, black ripped jeans, and the bandana tied around his head.

You watched as he took a seat in the front of the room though you had enough sense to turn your attention back to the professor who had started class and was displaying a list of names with corresponding locker numbers that housed the guitar you’d be using.

Standing up with the rest of the class, you went to go find your own locker and let out a sigh of relief when you saw it was on the bottom row because that meant less effort to take it in and out rather than if you had one on the top row.

Right as you popped your lock open, a shadow was cast over you and you turned around to see Mark’s friend who was even more stunning up close. He flashed you a quick smile along with an apology as he moved to the side to give you more room and allow you to grab your guitar out from the locker.

You were just slightly irritated at the guy. People with good looks knew how to use them to their advantage and this man obviously knew what he was doing. Had he been sane, he could’ve just waited for you to get your stuff out before getting his own, but instead, he chose to tower over you as you were crouching down on the floor.

Your eyes followed his figure as he made his way back to his seat in the front of the room, sitting down in front of the professor and you rolled your eyes knowing that he’s going to have an ego as tall as a skyscraper.

Aside from your encounter with the nameless e-boy, your first class went pretty okay though you were already having a little trouble remembering which chords were which so you sent a text to Mark asking for tips. He responds a few minutes later with fingering charts and even offers to tutor you, which you gladly accept.

You and Mark had appointed Wednesday afternoons and Sunday mornings as your lesson times and the first time you visit him is on the former. It was February so the weather was still quite cold though it wasn’t cold enough to make you regret not wearing a thicker jacket.

Before you could even text Mark that you’re outside the frat house, the door opens and he pulls you in, visibly shivering due to only being in a t-shirt and basketball shorts. “Not so Canadian are you, huh?” You joke at him, seeing the once thick-skinned boy now struggling to warm himself up as he practically ran up the stairs to his room.

You followed him up, greeting his roommate, Taeil, when you passed him in the hallway. Taeil was the oldest member of the frat and was set to graduate at the end of the semester. He had you absolutely fooled when you first met him. His personality reminded you of a golden meadow or a sunny beach but he was a total animal when it came to parties though Mark had told you that you’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg.

Having seen Taeil out in the hallway, you thought you and Mark would be the only ones in the room so you weren’t expecting to see the same guy from guitar class lying around on Mark’s bed. “Yuta, this is y/n, y/n meet Yuta.”

Yuta gave you that same smile you saw on the first day of class as he told Mark, “oh, I know her, she’s in my guitar class.”

“Dude, that’s so cool. You guys can work together on projects and the playing tests then. Man, that course would’ve been way more fun if I could play with someone I knew.” You shot Mark an awkward smile as if telling him to move on because you highly doubted that you’d ever want to work with Yuta, especially if his ego was as big as you thought it was. He’d call you out left and right for even the tiniest mistakes and you didn’t want to put yourself through that.

Mark cleared his throat while grabbing his guitar and handing it to you, and Taeil’s guitar to Yuta. “Yeah so, uh, anyway, I thought it would be better to teach you guys at the same time since you both are at the same level if that’s okay with you.” Mark’s question was obviously aimed towards you however Yuta answered first without any hesitation.

“Works for me.” Yuta looked over to you, strands of his white locks falling in front of his eyes though it didn’t dampen the intensity of his gaze in the slightest.

You didn’t exactly like the idea of playing with an audience, even if it was just Yuta. But if he was a beginner like you, then theoretically the playing field should be even. It was only because of this did you nod your head, telling Mark, “sure.”

Your first lesson with Mark consisted of his retaught both you and Yuta the fundamentals and basic chords you had already learned, making sure that your hands and fingers were placed the right way. Yuta, who was having a harder time than you, let out an exasperated sigh as he leaned back against the wall next to Mark’s bed while he ripped open a bag of gummy bears. “Whoever gets the fingerings right first gets a gummy bear.”

“Okay, bet.” Not really one for competition, you wanted to refuse his proposal, but this guy was really getting on your nerves. It was as if he had no interest yet all the passion in the world. And that’s aside from the fact that you simply wanted to continue showing him up and proving that you weren’t such a pushover and he can’t simply bend you to his will.

The three of you became so wrapped up in the competition that you didn’t even notice that you were supposed to leave to get to your last class of the day, which was now starting in five minutes. When you glanced over at the clock on Mark’s desk, you practically jumped out of your seat, “holy shit, I’m gonna be late to class.”

“I can drive you if you want.” Yuta offered.

“No, it’s okay, I’ll be fine.” You weren’t exactly lying but you weren’t entirely telling the truth as you declined him. It was an eight-minute walk away but you could probably make it in six if you did your Black Friday walk and surely your professor wouldn’t mind if you were just a minute late.

Mark helped you gather your belongings and held his door open for you. “Alright, see you y/n. I’ll set an alarm next time so we don’t forget.” He said with a slight laugh in his voice.

As you stepped out of the frat house, you just couldn’t stop your mind from wandering back to Yuta. He barely even knew you yet he had offered to drive you to class, even though your campus wasn’t particularly large. There was something about that man that made you want to run for your life but also just stop and stare at him all day.

The second time you had a lesson with Mark is on a Sunday morning and you’re pleasantly surprised to see that Yuta is nowhere to be found as you set foot into Mark’s room. After placing your bag down next to Mark’s desk, you pick up Taeil’s guitar and join him on his bed while he quietly plays a song to himself.

“Yuta’s still knocked out from the party we had yesterday so I doubt he’ll be joining us.” Mark informed you, and his statement rang true as Yuta did not come in during all of the three hours you spent next to Mark, much to your relief. Instead, Taeil had come in, looking terribly hungover.

“Hey, what’s up man.” Is all Taeil got to say before rolling into his bed, putting in a single Airpod before falling asleep, much to both you and Mark’s amusement.

Mark had tried to teach you basic chord sequences and strumming patterns but your brain just wasn’t having it. He kept giggling at seeing you frustrated and you had to repeatedly tell him to shut up in fear of waking Taeil so eventually both of you decided to call it a day as you put the guitars back on their stands.

You got back onto the bed next to Mark as both of you played on your phones for a bit before he turned his off and turned to talk to you. “Hey, y/n, so the guys are throwing this party next week Saturday and I was wondering if you’d want to come.”

“Next Saturday...Valentine’s Day?” You ask as you check your calendar on your phone.

“Yeah. You don’t have to though if you already have other plans.” Mark blurted out.

You laughed at the thought of actually going on a date on Valentine’s Day. “Didn’t have any plans besides ordering take-out and watching Netflix.”

Mark laughed along with you. “So is that a yes?”

“Sure.”

“Do you wanna sleepover too since you’re gonna be here on Sunday morning anyway?” You raised an eyebrow at Mark, wondering if he was actually serious.

“Sounds convenient but then where are you gonna sleep?” You countered.

“Uh, in Taeil’s bed.” Mark said, the gears in his head almost visibly turning.

“And where is he going to sleep?” You ask, not wanting to cause the kind senior any extra stress from having to deal with Mark as a roommate on top of his impending graduation.

Mark reached up and scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know, probably somewhere on the floor downstairs.” Your eyes grew wide at his statement. “Okay wait, before you yell at me, Taeil always gets too hammered to make it back up to the room until like, Sunday afternoon as you clearly just saw.” He explained, gesturing to his sleeping body on the other side of the room.

“Okay, then. But if he gets mad, it’s your fault, your idea, not mine.”

By the time Valentine’s Day came around, you were more than ready for it to end, having been annoyed by all the lovey-dovey advertisement and the couples posting on Instagram and holding hands and kissing wherever you went. You had always heard that love finds its way to those who are least expecting it, which is why you gave up the thought of ever pining over a guy who was likely to reject you anyway. Though, sure enough, love really did find a way of messing with your life in more than one way.

When you arrived at the party, you had first gone up to Mark’s room to drop off your bag that held your change of clothes and personal hygiene supplies. You don’t know what you were expecting to see when you entered his room, but you certainly weren’t expecting to see Mark’s bare ass while he was fucking into a girl in his bed, the same bed you were supposed to sleep in at the end of the night. “Oh, shit, fuck, sorry y/n, can you just uh, come back in a bit-”

You were pretty sure you were just as embarrassed as Mark, shouting “alright, have fun dude” as you closed the door. You turned around to search for somewhere else to go, pondering on the idea of just going back to your dorm after the party and walked right into Taeil.

“Should I not go in there?” He asked, having seen the way you backed out of the room and closed the door.

“Not unless you wanna see Mark’s butt.”

“Eh, I see it from time to time, can’t be any worse than usual.”

“Taeil, no” you exclaim, grabbing onto his arm and pulling him away before he could open the door.

“Oh, you mean to see his butt while he’s doing that kind of thing, I get it now.” He said with a playful glint in his eyes. “Were you planning on sleeping over?” He asked, having noticed the duffel bag hanging from your shoulder.

You let out a sigh before answering. “Yeah, I was gonna sleep in Mark’s bed and he was gonna sleep in yours since he said you apparently get too fucked up to make it back to the room.” At which Taeil laughs as he nodded his head, acknowledging the statement.

“He’s certainly not wrong,” Taeil confirmed, “did you want to put that down somewhere? I can let you keep it in our lounge room during the party. It’s a members-only room so you can just ask one of the guys to open it for you later in case I’m already out.”

You can’t help but giggle at Taeil’s joke as you accept his offer, following him down the hallway to a door where he punches in some numbers onto a keypad before opening it. Your jaw dropped when you looked inside, being met with a huge U-shaped couch facing the back wall where a large TV was mounted. “What do you guys even do in here?”

“Usually just gaming, sometimes watching big sports matches. Just normal guys stuff. We agreed to no sex, drugs, or alcohol in here so it’s like a safe room of sorts I guess.” Taeil explained to you.

“Huh, didn’t think you guys would have something like this.” You told him as you placed your duffle bag against the wall near the door.

“Frat life isn’t just all about getting high and drunk you know, y/n,” he said, playfully scoffing at you, “but speaking of, would you like to get a drink downstairs?” You nod your head before walking alongside Taeil as he places an arm around your shoulders, guiding you down to the party.

As you pass by Mark’s room along the way to the stairs, both you and Taeil share a laugh as you could hear the faint noises of sex through the door, though you really just wanted to erase the image of Mark’s ass from your head. Taeil seems to understand this much as he takes you to the kitchen and tells Doyoung, the frat’s resident entrepreneur with a side hobby for mixology, to get you something strong.

You’ve met Doyoung a couple of times, though you only exchanged short greetings since you were always doing something with Mark. “Where’s your boyfriend?” He inquired.

“Who?”

“Mark.”

“Oh, we’re not dating. He’s in his room though.”

“Sure seems like you’re dating. Why isn’t he here with you?”

Taeil responds, saving you from having to explain to Doyoung. “He’s getting lucky with some other girl.”

Doyoung’s eyes go wide as he responds, “that’s a first for him.”

You were about to ask what he meant by that but you’re interrupted by loud yells coming from the living room, causing you to turn around and see what was going on. You spot Yuta standing up on the makeshift DJ booth in the corner of the room with Johnny, who you recognized as your TA in your English class, as he grabbed the microphone and shouted “let’s get fucking drunk” before Johnny could manage to yank it out of his grasp and turn it off.

“What’s with that guy?” You mumble to yourself, not really expecting Doyoung to overhear you.

“Oh, Yuta? He’s just like that sometimes.” Doyoung states, shrugging his shoulders as he wiped the kitchen counter with a towel. “He’s that one friend who does really questionable things but you can’t get rid of them because deep down they’re actually pretty nice.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You think he’s nice?”

“He is once you get to know him.”

You look at Taeil for reaffirmation only to find that said man is long gone, the only evidence of him ever being there is his yellow phone left lying on the counter next to Doyoung’s own drink. “I’ve gotten to know him and I wouldn’t say he’s nice, per se.”

Doyoung shakes his head at you, “you just haven’t cracked him open yet.”

“Why do you talk as if he’s an egg or something?” You joke laughing to yourself and watching as Doyoung fights back a smile.

“He is, in a sense. He’s got a tougher exterior along with his own inner issues that come tumbling out once he trusts you.”

“Like?”

Doyoung hums in thought before speaking. “I’m not gonna say too much because it’s his life and his own story to tell, but let me just ask you this one question. Don’t you ever wonder why he constantly sleeps around with girls yet never gets into a relationship with any of them?”

You ponder on the question before asking one back. “So are the rumors true?” Yuta’s reputation did precede him and you had, in fact, heard from other girls who had their own stories and adventures with Yuta but you didn’t necessarily believe them completely, not wanting to assume anything about Yuta.

“Some, not all...but yes, most of the ones I have heard were true, but maybe that’s just because people know I live with him so there’s no sense in trying to lie around me.” Doyoung responds to which you nod your head, acknowledging the accuracy behind his statement.

Three shots later of whatever Doyoung was making you, you were already starting to feel hot and lightheaded so you went back upstairs, as per Doyoung’s advice, and made your way to Mark’s room hoping he’d be done by now. You cracked his door open and peeked around it, grumbling to yourself as you saw your best friend and the same girl from earlier wrapped up in his blanket. You weren’t too sure where you were going to sleep tonight and you weren’t too keen on walking back to your dorm this late at night, especially when you were already starting to feel tipsy.

Closing the door quietly, not wanting to disturb the two people inside, you step away from the room, only to run into someone behind you. You spun around, ready to apologize until you realized who it was. Yuta, a quite drunk Yuta too.

“Taeil told me Mark got lucky-” he stopped to hiccup, “but I didn’t fully believe it so I came to-” he hiccuped again, “see for myself, but I think your action speak-” he reached up to briefly rub his eyes, “louder than words” he finished, letting out a yawn at the end. “Need somewhere to stay?”

“How did you know I was sleeping over?” You ask, wary of the man and his intentions.

He waves his hands as if dismissing your preconceived notions. “Taeil told me that too. Makes sense anyway since you’re here on Sunday’s as well.”

You sighed, not wanting to let yourself give in to Yuta yet again and give him another thing to hold over you, but it wasn’t as if you had many other options. “Taeil let me leave my bag in the lounge, can you unlock the door for me? I think I’ll just ask Doyoung to drive me back to my dorm or something.”

Yuta hummed as he grabbed your wrist and led you down the hallway to the lounge. He unlocked the door for you and held it open, but once both of you were inside, he closed the door behind him and turned on the mood lighting and watched as the room began to glow purple.

You picked up your bag as Yuta threw himself over the backrest of the sofa and tumbled onto the cushions. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re beautiful?”

“Well, yeah?” You stuttered, taken aback by his sudden comment.

“Damn, I wanted to be the first.”

“Okay?” You said, questioning his antics as Doyoung’s words floated through your head about Yuta and his trysts with girls, not wanting to become another victim.

As if Yuta could hear you thinking, he sat up and peered over the couch just enough to make eye contact with you, his eyes mischievously shining in the low lighting. “Were you gonna sleep with Mark?” He asked, raising his eyebrow suggestively.

“What? No,” you exclaim, “he’s my best friend, I would never do that.”

“Not like that you sicko,” Yuta said as he chuckled at your flustered state.

“Oh,” realization dawning upon you, “uh, yeah, I was planning to just sleep in his bed and he was gonna take Taeil’s but now I’m pretty sure that’s not happening tonight.”

“You can stay in my room if you want.” Now it was your turn to raise a suggestive eyebrow at him. “No, it’s not what you’re thinking. My roommate is away in China so his side is open. You can sleep in my bed if you’re not comfortable being in a stranger’s bed.” You were surprised he made it through such a long statement without any hiccups.

“Uh, thanks, I guess I’ll take you up on that offer.” You say, finally unrooting yourself from the floor and making your way towards the door.

Yuta begins haphazardly pulling himself over the back of the couch seeing as how you were ready to leave the room. “I’ll show you to the bathroom.” He would’ve face planted straight into the floor if it weren’t for you standing right in his path of destruction, barely catching him before he nearly sent both of you to the ground. “Sorry” he giggled as he regained his balance and pushed open the door.

You couldn’t mistake the way his body felt against yours, how warm and comforting it was. He smelled nice too, which was odd for someone who partied like an animal and lived with god knows how many other guys. You shook yourself out of your thoughts and grabbed your bag, following Yuta out of the lounge.

He led you to the bathroom and instructed you on how to use the shower and lock the door before telling you how to get to his room once you were done. The bathroom was surprisingly neat but you were sure it was thanks to Doyoung and Taeyong, the only two people you thought had their heads on straight in this house. Even if you had only briefly met both of them, it was enough to let you know that those men were the reason why the house somehow looked presentable within just a few hours after a raging party.

You showered quickly, the effect of Doyoung’s drinks really hitting you now, making you want to just pass out. Once you were done showering you threw on one of Mark’s shirts that you had previously stolen, intending on giving it back to him tonight, but you weren’t comfortable wearing your normal beat up sleepwear in front of Yuta, so you opted to wear Mark’s shirt instead.

Not quite wanting to have another incident like the one you had earlier with Mark, you knocked on Yuta’s door just to be safe. You heard him laugh from the inside as he called out “it’s unlocked, just come in.” As you let yourself in, he got off his bed telling you “I’m going to shower now. Just make yourself comfortable in whichever bed you want. I’ll sleep in whatever one you don’t choose.”

After he left the room, you looked between the two beds. One was neatly made and had pictures strung up on the wall next to it, the blankets and sheets folded nicely and placed alongside a few pillows near the foot of the bed. The other, which Yuta had just rolled out of, had wrinkled sheets with the blanket half falling off the bed, not a single pillow within a whole six-foot radius of his bed.

You didn’t really want to mess up the organization of whoever his roommate was, so instead, you just took one of the pillows and plopped it onto Yuta’s bed as you grabbed the blanket from the floor and pulled it over your head, allowing his scent to flood your nose. Just as you were about to drift into sleep, you heard the door open and close followed by rapid footsteps coming your way.

Before you even had time to react, Yuta was flinging himself on top of you and laughing as you gasped for air under his weight. “Somebody looks comfortable.” He teased as you continued squirming, trying to push him off you.

You wouldn’t take him to be a clingy drunk after seeing how rowdy he was during the party, but you suppose this is the side of him that managed to charm so many other girls into thinking they’d be that one lucky girl to finally win over Nakamoto Yuta’s heart. “Get off of me.” You uttered forcefully as you tried to make him move over and relieve the pressure on your chest and stomach.

“You silly, this is my bed” he cooed, letting another round of giggles leave his lips before rolling off you towards the wall, leaving you on the outside of the bed. He threw the blanket over himself, humming as he felt the warmth of it, that you had made, on his freshly showered skin.

Yuta kept his distance as he laid on his back with his eyes closed, his hands reaching up to ruffle his damp hair, speaking of which, “you know people say you can get sick if you go to sleep with damp hair?” You asked him quizzically.

“Yeah, but I’ve never gotten sick from it so I don’t really care.” He said dismissively.

A few moments passed before either one of you spoke again. “Didn’t you say that you were going to sleep in the other bed?” You questioned, remembering your conversation from not too long ago.

“Yeah, but I’m too lazy to unfold everything and put it back in the morning so here I am.” Yuta beamed, smiling over at you. You rolled your eyes at him, scoffing as he continued playing with his hair, making it stick up in different directions. “I can sleep somewhere else if you’re not comfortable with me being here.”

You wanted to say ‘yes, please move’ but you didn’t have enough strength in you to tell him to get out, not when you enjoyed his presence next to you so instead you simply told him “it’s fine” before tugging over more of his blanket and turning to face away from him.

He let out a whine as now half of his body was uncovered and exposed to the cold winter air and he yanked his blanket back, inadvertently pulling you with it, causing you to face him with your forehead nearly resting against his chest. “Why are you hogging my blanket?” Yuta whined.

“I’m not hogging it, you just keep trying to take more than your fair share of it.” You fired back at him.

“This is my room and my blanket.”

“You’re the one who offered to let me stay here, and might I add, you said you were going to sleep in the bed that I didn’t choose.”

“I can always retract my offer, you know.” You shook your head, the idea of asking Doyoung to drive you back to your dorm at 3am wasn’t exactly appealing to you. “Okay then come closer so we can actually share the blanket instead of leaving one of us to freeze.”

You let out a huff and scooted closer to Yuta. “Are you happy now?” Yuta let out a hum as he smiled down at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling underneath the strands of bleached white hair that had fallen in front of his face.

Closing your eyes again, you tried to fall asleep, hoping that you wouldn’t have any further interruptions from Yuta, but you couldn’t seem to fully relax with the main light of the room still on. “Yuta can you turn off the light?” He looked over you, clearly unhappy. “Please?”

“You’re closer.”

“God, why are you so difficult.” You remarked as you slid out from under the blanket, walking over to flip the light switch.

“I’m not difficult, you’re difficult.” He fired at you as the room became dark, illuminated only from the light of the moon. “You’re always so uptight and on edge about getting to class on time and being prepared.”

“Because that’s what a good student does, and unlike you, I actually want to graduate from college in four years.” You spit back as you rolled back into the bed next to him.

“Hey, not everyone graduates within four years, some of us just have a different path in life. And what makes you think that I’m not trying to graduate soon?”

“Your attitude and your seemingly nonexistent care to even make it to class on time.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t do my work though.”

“But you totally miss the instructions that the professors give at the beginning of class.”

“It’s not hard to figure things out when you’ve got a brain as big as mine.”

“You’re so annoying, just let me sleep.” You grumbled as you moved closer to him, wanting more of the blanket.

Silence falls upon both of you again but you let out a huff when Yuta starts talking again. He sure was annoying as hell when he was drunk. “Do you have feelings for Mark, or like, any other guys...like at all?”

You stared up at him, praying he’d feel the daggers coming from your eyes, “no.”

“Good, I was hoping you didn’t so I could do this.”

“Do wha-”

You hadn’t even finished your sentence before Yuta tilted your chin up and brought his lips to yours, eagerly molding his to fit the shape of yours.

You didn’t know what you were thinking when you started to kiss him back, in fact, you probably weren’t thinking at all. Yuta took it as a green light and let the hand that was against your chin find its way to the back of your neck to pull you in closer. You didn’t realize your body had shifted until you were now completely pressed up against him. It soon became all too hot and suffocating, forcing you to pull away and break the kiss.

Your eyes met his and held his gaze as you came to your senses. “Yuta, I’m not here to have sex with you.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” He replied almost nonchalantly.

You rolled your eyes at him, “no, I mean, like ever.”

“Okay. Who says I can’t just kiss a pretty girl because I want to?” He asked, the attitude in his voice was almost enough to make you want to slap him.

“I do?” You quipped. “I didn’t tell you that you could kiss me either-”

“Says the person who was definitely not kissing me back.” Yuta teased as he cocked an eyebrow at you, daring you to continue.

You flung the blanket off of you, not wanting to put up with any more of his antics. “Don’t use your fuckboy charms on me, I’m not here to become another one of your girls.”

“Y/n, wait, that’s not what I meant to do,” he whined, grabbing your wrist before you could fully get out of the bed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come off that way and for your information, I am not attached any of the ‘girls’ you are alluding to.”

“You attached yourself to them the moment you put your dick inside them and gave them something to talk about.”

“That's not what I intended to do.”

“Then what is it that you intend to do, Yuta?”

He paused with his mouth slightly open and you took this moment to separate your wrist from his grasp before he spoke again. “I don’t try to ‘charm’ them or whatever you call it. I’m not even looking for a relationship, trust me.”

“And why should I trust you when you have girls practically throwing themselves at you?”

Yuta let out a groan as he flopped onto his back. “Look, I never wanted to be this blunt with you but I’m not looking for a relationship because the last one I was in ended with me getting cheated on.” He paused as if letting his words sink in. “I don’t want to fall in love again because I don’t want to risk going through that same pain another time. I’m scared to fall in love because what if it’s not reciprocated? Is that enough to make you believe me?”

You stare at him in shock, barely managing to stutter out “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“It’s fine, let’s just go to sleep, I said too much already.” He interrupted, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you back under the blanket. Once you were close enough for his liking, Yuta let go of you, retracting his arm back to his half of the bed though he stopped when he felt your hand on his forearm. He looked up at you with wide eyes as you pulled his arm back over you and allowed your forehead to rest against his chest.

Yuta stayed like that until you fell asleep, finding it hard to do the same. It took him awhile to find himself in the familiar lull due to his thoughts running rampant in his mind as his eyes traced over your features. If only you could read his mind, you’d know of the dilemma he realized he had wrapped himself into that he was too scared to admit on his own.

You woke up with a pounding headache, to say the least. Reaching up to massage your forehead, you tried to roll onto your back only to find that you weren’t able to. You jerked around, finding Yuta’s sleeping body as you remembered the events and conversations that took place just hours prior. You stilled as you took a moment to admire the way the golden rays of sun seeped in through the window, falling across his face and causing him to have an ethereal glow. He’d be quite attractive if it wasn’t for his attitude.

However, his face alone wasn’t enough to distract you from the fact that he was practically spooning you and you weren’t confident that you could get out without waking him though what really irked you was the fact that part of you didn’t want to leave from his warm embrace.

You stayed in his arms for a few minutes longer until your headache became unbearable and your throat was begging for something to drink. You tried your best to gently extract yourself from Yuta but much to your distaste, he woke up. He caused you even more displeasure when he pulled you back towards himself and whined “where are you going?”

“I’m thirsty and I have a headache.” You stated plainly, your voice void of energy.

Yuta whined once more before trying to reason with you. “But it’s cold, it’s cuddle weather.”

“I didn’t say that I wanted to cuddle with you.” You pointed out, at which Yuta finally forced his eyes open as he yawned and stretched before sighing.

“I’ll get you water and some ibuprofen if you stay for a little longer.”

“Fine, but that’s only because I don’t have anywhere else to go.” You were trying to convince him of this as much as you were trying to convince yourself of the statement while he gave you one of the brightest smiles you’ve seen from a full-time college student as he climbed over you and let himself out of the room.

You took this time as an opportunity to use the bathroom and peek into Mark’s room as you made your way back. You were surprised to see there was no one in the room and nearly jumped when an arm wrapped around your waist from the back. “Are we spying on Mark?” Yuta whispered into your ear.

Scoffing, you answer “he’s not even in there, you idiot.”

“Huh, I wonder where he went,” Yuta contemplated, “might as well grab the guitars while we’re here.” He handed you the glass of water and pills he was carrying as he walked into Mark’s room and picked up the two guitars from their stands.

“What are we supposed to do without Mark?”

“Practice? What else are we supposed to do?” The man in front of you asked rhetorically.

You shook your head at him, not liking the sound of his idea. “We won’t know if we’re doing anything right, we’re literally both beginners.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t help each other.” Yuta countered.

“Ugh, whatever, you’re so irritating.” And with that, you down the pills and turn to walk back to his room.

Playing guitar with Yuta wasn’t actually all that terrible. He knew more than he let on during your shared sessions with Mark and he offered you some tips every so often as he led both of you through the chord progression sheet. The whole scene of it was quite surreal, the way you and Yuta were both simply clothed in plain t-shirts, hair still roused from sleep, the way the sun gently lit the room and warmed it up.

You were genuinely enjoying yourself and didn’t even notice when Mark came into the room. “You guys started without me?” He whined cutely.

Yuta looked at you and you gestured at him to respond. “Y/n went to go spy on you in your room but you weren’t there so we decided to steal the guitars and have fun on our own.” You shot Yuta a look, hoping he understood the ‘I will strangle you’ glare you were giving him.

“Wow y/n, why were you spying on me man?” Mark asked dejectedly.

“I was just checking to see if your girl was still with you because I didn’t want to barge in on anything, again.” You tease.

Mark groans and covers his face out of embarrassment. “Oh gosh, don’t remind me.”

“Wait, wait, you saw Mark naked?” Yuta questioned with his eyes wide. “He has a big butt doesn’t he?” He added, smirking, at which both you and Mark yell at him to shut up. “Just saying facts.” He claims, raising his hands up in defense.

“Anyways,” Mark said a little too aggressively, “are you guys doing okay on your own? Or did you want me to join?”

Again, Yuta turned to you for a response, though this time you really hated yourself for what you answered with. “No, I think we’re fine, thanks though.”

“Better go wash your sheets bro, you were wild last night.” Yuta called out as Mark left the room.

“Dude,” Mark exclaimed, “don’t ever say that again, please bro.” And just like that, I was only you and Yuta again.

“Speaking of parties,” Yuta began, “we’re thinking of holding another one in March before spring break. Wanna come?”

“I can’t believe you guys are already planning another one not even a whole day after getting drunk out of your mind.” You joke, the disbelief obvious in your expression.

“Hey, you have to let loose every once in a while,” he states, “but my offer still stands.”

You hum, faking getting lost in thought, “ask me again in a month and I’ll let you know.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you tilted your head to the side, the look on your face clearly ridiculing him, “for now.” He adds on.

You went back to looking over the chord progression sheet and tried again to go through the one you were on before Mark came in. You almost succeed this time until you place your fingers one fret away from where they were supposed to be. “Yikes” Yuta comments as he reaches out and shifts your hand over for you, causing you to stick your tongue out at him.

It seemed only reasonable that when the guys continued having parties every so often, that you were invited to every single one of them whether it be through Mark or Yuta, and the one time Johnny had hit you up not knowing your involvement with the frat already, or even when Taeil invited you though it was really because Mark needed help sorting out his relationship issues.

Everyone except you was surprised that Mark had found himself a girlfriend, especially one that wasn’t you. You were happy for him, even if it meant having to respond to his panicked texts at 2am asking what something meant in ‘girl language’ accompanied by numerous screenshots.

Mark often ended up leaving you and Yuta on your own on Sundays because that was the only day when both he and his girlfriend were free. You certainly didn’t mind spending more time with Yuta now that he stopped being such a cocky asshole all the time. Whatever absence Mark had left, Yuta was there to make up for it whether it be his lingering touches, shy kisses, and even the offering of his clothes to you when you accidentally ended up sleeping over again, though this time you voluntarily shared a bed with him.

Yuta was becoming a necessary presence in your life, though you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind it when he moved to sit next to you during class. You didn’t mind when he asked to work with you for the upcoming playing test. You didn’t mind when he found you during parties swept you away from the dance floor to take you elsewhere.

You especially didn’t mind when taking you elsewhere resulted in your current situation, your hands tangled in Yuta’s now orange-colored hair, as you lay under him while he kissed you breathless.

“You look so fucking hot, you had all of them staring at you.” Yuta growls out between kisses.

You bite his bottom lip, causing him to groan slightly. “Mmm, you like that though. You like it when I look like this.”

“Not when other men get to look at you the way I do.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re mine.”

The use of the word caused you to stop in your tracks, Yuta pulling back as your lips stopped moving against his. “What are we?” You ask him, your voice shaking.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, this relationship?” You say, gesturing between the two of you, “What is our relationship to each other?”

“We’re friends.”

“But are we just friends? Because I don’t think friends kiss each other like this.”

“They don’t, but that doesn’t mean we can’t.” Yuta interjected as he leaned in to reattach his lips to yours.

“No, Yuta, stop,” you declare, pulling away from him, “I told you I’m not someone you can just play around with. If you want to keep me as a friend, then that’s all we will be. No kissing, no flirting, none of that.”

“I’m not playing around with you-”

“Then why is it so hard for you to place a label on us?” You questioned him, unintentionally raising your voice ever so slightly.

He rolled off of you, throwing an arm up to cover his eyes as he let out a sigh of exasperation. “I...I don’t know.”

“We’re clearly more than just friends but if you’re not willing to commit to being something more, then I’ll leave it at that.”

“Y/n, I- fuck, I don’t know what I even want-”

“And that’s okay,” you interrupt, “I’ll just give you time to think then, but for now,” you pause as you stand up from his bed, “just friends.” And with that you let yourself out of his room and ventured back downstairs to the party without turning back, finding comfort in the common sight of Johnny manning the boards, Doyoung in the kitchen with the drinks, even down to Taeyong and Taeil drunkenly swaying with each other on the dance floor.

“Here, something sweet to get rid of that sour look on your face.” Doyoung joked as he slid a drink across the counter.

You let out a chuckle as you raised the glass to your lips. “That obvious huh?”

“It is when I know whose room you just came from and who you’ve been spending all your time with.” He was really too intelligent to be stuck with these idiots.

You could only sigh as you took a large swig of whatever it is Doyoung made for you, relishing in the burn it gave you as it went down your throat, wishing for the alcohol-induced pain to overtake the one in your mind caused by the one and only Nakamoto Yuta.

Needless to say, you and Yuta ended up changing songs for the playing test and performing alone. Yuta moved back to his previous seat in the front of the room, though you still felt the way his eyes practically pierced through you as you played your chosen song, which albeit, was on the easier side since you wanted to give yourself a break.

Unbeknownst to you, Yuta wished so badly to be the person you were singing about. “Can you focus on me? Baby can you focus on me?” You sang, and he mentally beat himself to the ground.

Yuta still wanted to give you the world more than anything but he didn’t trust himself to do so, not when he’s already hurt you more than he should have. He became so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice you finished playing until he heard the applause coming from your classmates.

You actually did end up going to their spring party, but it was due to a request made by Johnny as he told you about Mark’s current post-breakup state near the end of your English class together. “He’s pretty much been in his room all the time. Not like the normal kind where he just prefers to chill in his room, but like, the kind where he doesn’t even come down to eat with us and Taeil has to bring food up to him.”

“Did Mark say anything about the breakup? Like why or how it happened?” You questioned, not wanting to have to ask Mark himself in case it was still too sensitive a subject to talk about.

Johnny hummed in thought, cocking his head to the side. “He didn’t say much to me, but he told Taeil that she wasn’t looking for anything serious but he thought that she was.” Johnny paused to take a sip from the Starbucks cup on his desk. “In my opinion, he should’ve waited to get to know her instead of just fucking her and deciding to date her y’know? But, I mean, that’s on him, so as they say, not my problem.” He shrugged his shoulder before taking another sip of his drink.

“Literally who says that?” You joke, enjoying poking fun at the older guy.

Johnny turned to you, a mock look of offense plastered onto his face. “Y/n! You don’t know? The famous Johnny Suh says it all the time.” You rolled your eyes at him as you packed up your belongings, promising to be at the party later that night, not exactly fancying the thought of running into a certain someone at the party as well.

Mark’s fiery whirlwind of a romance had left him to become a mess of all sorts and you spent your time with him at the party in his bed, watching tik toks and animal video compilations to get his mind off of things. You felt a sense of relief as you heard one of his faint snores, realizing that he was asleep, allowing you to slip out of his room and head downstairs to grab a drink from Doyoung.

Right as you were about to head back up, you saw the all too familiar head of orange hair glowing under the dim lighting as he looked down across the party from the bottom of the staircase. He didn’t seem to notice you as you made your way towards him until a small “hey” left your lips.

His eyes darted over to your face, offering a simple nod of his head to you to acknowledge your presence. You stood next to him, leaning against the wall until you broke the silence “how have you been?”

“Fine. You?”

“Pretty good I guess.” You could tell he didn’t want to talk to you, but you didn’t want to leave him, just feeling so drawn to him. Finding comfort in his presence, you closed your eyes and let your head fall against the wall as you lost yourself in the music that Johnny had going.

“I’ll get going, this party isn’t as exciting as normal.” Yuta stated as he turned to go back upstairs. Starting up the stairs after him, wanting to check in on Mark again, but when Yuta heard you following him, he turned around and called out to you. ”Don’t follow me, you’ll end up in my arms.” You froze as he turned back around and continued his way up while you processed his words, allowing him to escape from you yet again.

You watched from an outsider's perspective and through the narratives of the other guys as over the next few days, Yuta replaced Mark as the resident vegetable. He fell into the same state Mark was previously in, said boy having slowly come back to his senses with your constant nurturing and care.

Party after party, Yuta was no longer down on the dance floor with one hand holding a red solo cup, another around the waist of a girl he had just met. You wanted so badly to speak to him, but whenever you spotted him off to the edges of the crowd, he’d disappear seconds later like he knew you were watching him. As much as it was nice to have Mark back and go back to your normal best friend activities, Yuta had lodged himself in your heart without you knowing it.

Countless parties more and it was already nearing the end of spring semester. Yuta had stopped showing up to class, appearing once or twice a week, at most. Even at parties, he no longer came out of his room, according to Taeil. You had been meaning to talk to Yuta for a while now, but with finals looming right around the corner and his ability to hole himself up in his room, it was nearly impossible to find the time and place for it.

You were sick of worrying about him and if he was eating and sleeping okay, often finding yourself wondering what he was currently doing while you were studying or eating your own meals. You hated how often he occupied your mind. You truly wanted to believe that you were different to him, that someday he’d come around ready to commit to something but you ridiculed yourself for thinking that you’d have enough power to change someone as stubborn as Yuta. Little did you know, you were more than capable of doing so.

You had just entered the last week before finals and your school was generous enough to allot students a two day period to study before finals started. Of course, the frats and sororities took it as a last-ditch opportunity to party before their seniors graduated. You attended the party thrown to celebrate the graduating Taeil, Johnny, and Taeyong, but you were there for a different reason.

Throwing a quick greeting to Doyoung in the kitchen as you entered, he offered you a drink, which you told him to save for later before storming up the stairs. You were tired of all the hours you spent thinking about Yuta. If he wasn’t going to do anything about this, then you were whether it ended your friendship with him or not. You were done thinking about all the what-ifs, you wanted a definitive answer and you wanted it now.

Stopping in front of Yuta’s door, having enough manners to think about knocking before entering, you raised your hand to knock. Though before you were able to, you heard the music coming from inside. It didn’t take a genius to recognize that it was his voice singing the words. You froze with your hand against the door as you continued to listen to him. “Oh, how I love you. I just feel so lost without you.”

You opened his door slowly, knowing fully well that he wouldn’t be able to hear you knock over the loud noise coming from the party and his own blue-toned song. Both of you stood there in shock as your eyes met. Yuta was sitting on his bed with Taeil’s guitar in his lap and a notebook laid open next to him while you stood in the middle of his doorway, hand still on the knob.

Oh, how you missed the sight of him, even when he was dressed as simply as he was right now with just a grey t-shirt and black shorts sporting the logo of his favorite soccer team. “Yuta, we need to talk” you blurted out, stopping yourself from ogling him any further.

“Alright.” He complied, closing the notebook as you sat at the foot of his bed.

You take in a deep breath before starting. “I’m pretty sure you know this already, but I like you,” pausing to regather yourself and push through the rest of the speech you practiced in your head, “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about you recently and I just want to settle this whole thing once and for all.”

Yuta nodded while picking at his fingers which you could see were now raw from playing the guitar so much, making you wonder just how often he was on it. “I’ve been thinking about you too...a lot,” he said as he looked up at you, “and I think I have an answer for you.”

You plant your hand down next to you on his bed, resting your weight on it and letting your head loll to the side as you raise an eyebrow at him asking him to continue. “I like you too, and I know the way I’ve been acting doesn’t really show that but I’m just scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of getting hurt again.” Yuta said, letting his head rest in his hands.

“Yuta, you know I would never cheat on you.”

“That’s what she told me too, but people can be deceiving.”

“Look, I’m not her,” you pointed out to him, “and I’m telling you right now that I would not even think about cheating on you.”

“Yeah, well, things can change.” Yuta let out exasperatedly.

“So you should change with them. You’re not going to grow unless you accept those changes.”

He went silent for a bit before looking up at you. “Teach me how to accept them, then.”

“What do you mean by that?” You ask him, your eyes meeting his.

“Show me that you’re different. Prove to me that not all change is bad.”

You moved closer to him as he spoke, swinging a leg over his lap and straddling him. “I will.”

Yuta’s eyes fluttered shut and you felt as he shakily exhaled before he reopened his eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, and this time it was your eyes that closed as Yuta connected his lips to yours. Within a few seconds, you felt his tongue brush against your bottom lip, asking for entrance, which you allowed and gave him a sense of dominance before letting your tongue dance with his while gently pushing him down onto the bed.

He whined as he broke the kiss and rolled both of you over, switching your positions, preferring to smother your body with his, making you giggle at his actions. “Thank you for asking this time.” You told him, referencing the first time he had kissed you.

“I was drunk, okay? I wasn’t thinking straight and I just wanted to kiss you so badly.” Yuta groaned, grinding his growing erection on your hip at the last part.

“Oh you wanna kiss me so bad huh?” You teased.

You could’ve sworn he let out a growl right then before responding “fuck yeah I do” and reconnecting your lips to his. After fighting your tongue yet again, he pulled away and slowly opened his now lust-filled eyes. “Are you sure you want this?”

“Yes,” you let out breathlessly, “I want it.”

“Who do you want?” He questioned as he slipped his hands under your shirt, gently kneading your breasts while kissing along your jaw and down your neck.

“You.”

“Baby, say my name.”

“Yuta, I want you.”

“Fuck, I love it when you say my name.” He said as he pulled his shirt off, throwing it down to the floor as you sat up and did the same.

The second your shirt was off, Yuta’s hands were already undoing the clasp of your bra, tossing it to the side as well before pushing you back down and running his hands over your breasts. His mouth latched onto one of your nipples as his hand played with the other.

You let out a whine as he pushed his erection against your clit, making you feel your own arousal that had started leaking out onto your underwear. Yuta glanced up at you, smirking, as he heard the sound you made. “Someone’s getting needy.” He kissed his way down your abdomen, sitting back once he reached the waistband of your pants, pulling them off along with your underwear.

He groaned as he took in all of your naked beauty, telling you “you’re so fucking hot” as he spread your legs and brought his face down to your folds and licking a long strip upwards. He repeated this motion a few times before you let out a frustrated moan at his teasing.

Yuta laughed at your desperation until your hand wove it’s way into his hair and pushed him closer to where you wanted him most. He seemed to get the message as he dove in, allowing you to get lost in the feeling of his tongue swirling around and pressing at your entrance.

You weren’t expecting it when you suddenly felt him pressing a finger into you, though you enjoyed the sensation of it and raised your hips to feel more, only to be met with Yuta’s free hand coming down on your stomach, holding you down. He waited for you to relax before inserting a second digit, then a third as he started to speed up and finger fuck you open.

He was reaching places inside of you that you had never reached before but you still wanted more. “Yuta,” you breathed out, “just fuck me already.”

“Well when you say it like that, there’s no way I can resist” he said, a sly smile creeping onto his face as he sat up, his erection bobbing as he tugged off his ripped jeans, freeing it from its confines.

“Condom” you tell him.

“Oh, you’re one of those girls,” he snickered, earning him a smack on the arm from you, “I’m just kidding, jeez, I don’t want to have to be responsible for a child just yet.” He defended as he reached over and stuck his hand into one of the drawers of his nightstand.

“I’m not risking getting pregnant when I can barely pay my tuition.” You quipped back at him.

“Fair enough.” Yuta remarked as he ripped open the package and rolled the condom over his already leaking cock.

He crawled over you, his elbows coming to rest next to either side of your head. “Are you sure you want this?” He asked as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“Are you sure want this?” You countered to him, both of you knowing fully well what you meant since once he went through with this, there was no turning back. Yuta was promising himself to you just as you had done to him.

You watched as his eyes found yours, “I want this, I want you, I want us.” With that he pushed himself into you, both of you letting out sinful moans as he bottomed out.

He barely gave you time to adjust before he started slowly rocking his hips as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer while your hands found their way into his brightly colored locks. Just as he began to accelerate his movements, thrusting harder and faster, his door swung open.

Mark walked in casually, “hey, Yuta have you seen Taeil’s- holy shit i’m so sorry” he exclaimed once he realized the situation.

Yuta didn’t even pause as he told Mark “it’s on the floor.”

If you weren’t struggling to hold back your lewd sounds in the presence of your best friend, you would’ve laughed at how Mark snatched up the guitar and bolted out of the room, muttering “guess we’re even now, y/n” as he shut the door.

You let out a whimper as Yuta hit your spot the second the door closed. “Fuck, right there.”

He pushed himself into you a few more times before suddenly rolling over, bringing you to straddle him. “Ride me” he commanded, one of his hands coming to rub your clit. You began bouncing on his lap and clenched around him, drawing a moan from him. “I won’t last long if you keep doing that.”

“Good, I'm not going to either.” You informed him, already feeling the knot in your stomach begging to be released.

Your thighs were starting to become sore though you didn’t want to stop. Yuta noticed your change of pace, bringing both his hands up to your hips as he began thrusting up into you. You let out a cry as he managed to brush against your most sensitive areas, causing an orgasm to wash over you.

His movements slowly only for a bit as he let you take control, riding out your high before firmly grasping your hips again and bouncing you on himself, relishing in the feeling of your tight walls fluttering around him.

Staying true to his word, Yuta came shortly after you, filling the condom with his cum. He continued to push himself up into you until it became too much and he pulled out with a hiss. Yuta gently you down on his bed before getting up to dispose of the condom in the trash bin next to his nightstand.

You welcomed him with open arms as he climbed back into bed, his own arms wrapping around your waist as he began pressing light kisses across your collarbone as he broke the silence. “So does this make us a thing?”

“Depends on what you mean by that.” You tell him, wanting him to clearly voice his thoughts.

“Are we official?” He clarified.

“Only if you want us to be.”

Yuta smiled up at you. “y/n, Yuta’s girl, I like the sound of that.” You leaned down to press a kiss to his lips before he spoke again. “That song was about you, by the way”

“I figured that much.” You stated as you pushed his hair out of his face.

He giggled as he told you “I wrote it after jacking off to the thought of you.”

“Okay, you didn’t have to tell me that.” He let out a full laugh this time as he rolled both of you onto your sides and brought his forehead to rest against yours.

“Gosh, as if you weren’t clingy enough before this.” You joke, playfully kissing his nose.

“I’m all yours now.” Yuta cooed, his arms pulling your still naked body impossibly closer to his.

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spacedikut · 4 years

Text

“i want to love someone and be loved” ; spencer reid - part 2

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: spencer decides it’s time to tell you, but he needs some help. 3887 words. part 1

a/n: THIS is the longest fic ive ever written but im actually kinda proud of how it turned out? i hope this is a good sequel :)

Spencer chickens out of telling you the next day.

He avoids you all weekend, actually. You resisted texting him the day after Rossi’s because you assumed he’d be busy – with his big plan involving a girl that isn’t you. You’re not bitter – but Sunday comes around and you message him not long after you wake up and six hours later there’s no response.

Twelve hours later - there’s no response.

Monday, you don’t have time to say hello to anyone – there’s a case waiting for you, somewhere in Florida.

Reid avoids your eyes. His body language tells you something is wrong, so you assume whoever he confessed to didn’t reciprocate (they’re insane) and he’s dealing with it. So you don’t press.

Spencer pretends to sleep the entire jet ride. He’s avoiding everyone, not just you.

He spent the whole weekend beating himself up. He drove to your apartment on Saturday, sat outside for so long a neighbour knocked on his window and asked if he was lost, but couldn’t bring himself to step foot out of his car.

So he locked himself in his room, away from you and your loveliness and away from his phone because he knew you texted him and he knew you’d send some soft message about being there for him if he needs anything and he didn’t need to be reminded of how beautiful and out of reach you are.

Derek seemed to be waiting for him Monday morning, arms crossed as he held a cup of coffee. It was weird seeing him in before Spencer.

“How’d it go?” He immediately asked.

“How’d what go?” Spencer mumbles, flinging his bag on the floor by his desk. He slumps in his seat.

Derek raises a dark eyebrow, “You know what, pretty boy. You had a big thing? Big plan?”

“Didn’t work out.”

It doesn’t take a profiler to realise Spencer is very clearly saying leave me alone. Leave it alone.

Derek isn’t one to leave it alone. Especially when it comes to Spencer.

He sighs and moves a little closer to Spencer’s desk, just in case someone overhears them.

“What happened?”

“That’s exactly it,” Spencer slams open a file, “Nothing happened.”

“And why did nothing happen?”

“Because I’m an idiot that can’t even tell a girl how I feel.”

“Whoa- hey!”

Derek spins Spencer’s chair so they’re face to face. Derek takes one look in Spencer’s eyes and knows what’s going on – he got too into his head and backed out at the last minute.

“You’re not an idiot. Why didn’t you do it?”

Spencer shrugs, “I got to her apartment. I had flowers, too. I don’t know.”

Derek’s evidently concerned – Spencer’s beaten up over this, over whoever this girl is, and he deserves the chance to experience love. Spencer deserves a lot more than he himself thinks he does.

“You seemed really excited, man. You can still do it. Just cause you try once and it doesn’t work out doesn’t mean you can’t ever try again.”

Spencer stares off into the distance, accidentally ignoring Derek as his thoughts slip out of his mouth, “Yeah, it probably wouldn’t have worked anyway – I was stupid to think I could get someone like her.”

“Hey, no.” Derek nudges Spencer’s shoulder so he looks at him again, “Don’t talk like that. You’re one hell of a guy, Reid. All you gotta do is get that confidence that you had Friday night back, and you’re all set. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Spencer gives a feeble nod. Derek moves back to his desk, knowing he isn’t convinced, but he isn’t done yet.

+++

Later, in Florida, Spencer’s making a coffee in the precinct’s kitchen after waiting twenty minutes for you to leave. Luck’s on his side, for once, and you’ve been working non-stop with Prentiss going crime scene to crime scene so he hasn’t had to actively avoid you. You smile at him every chance you get, though, and it distracts him.

Someone clears their throat behind him. It’s Penelope, whom Spencer didn’t realise was invited on this case.

She looks guilty. Spencer recognises that face; the face she has when she’s done something she shouldn’t have or knows something she isn’t really supposed to. Given current circumstances, Spencer bets it’s the latter reason.

“Morgan told me something he shouldn’t have.”

Bingo.

He leans against the kitchen counter, stirring his coffee absentmindedly.

“What did he tell you?” He asks, feigning tranquillity. Inside he’s screaming non-stop.

She’s got her hands clasped together in front of her, almost innocently, and fiddles with her fingers, “He told me you needed assistance in the love department.” Before he can object, she continues, “And I am willing to do anything if it means our resident weirdo-slash-genius falls in love and gets to experience some much needed cuteness.”

There’s no point in lying to her. There’s also no point in being mad that Morgan told her about his situation – they’re kind of a package deal. And, who knows, Garcia might be able to help.

“So…” She sways, trying (and failing) to appear nonchalant, “Who’s the lucky lady?”

Spencer shuffles on the spot, scuffing his shoes against the floor. He debates whether he should tell her, since, you know, you’re in the next room over, but Spencer worries that Garcia is so good at her job she’d somehow find out through hacking Spencer’s phone, or maybe somehow hacking his dreams. His subconscious. He’s terrified of Garcia and her abilities.

“You can tell me.” She insists, “I’m much better at keeping secrets than Morgan.”

Spencer turns away from her, she steps closer, and he mumbles your name.

“What?”

“Y/N.”

“WHAT?!”

Spencer spins, hands coming up to tell Garcia to shut up and Garcia immediately covers her mouth in both shock and hopefully so she doesn’t shout again.

“Since when?!” She screeches. “How could I not have known?! Oh God, almighty Doctor Reid, I feel like I’ve failed you by not realising earlier.”

Her enthusiasm makes him smile, for the first time in far too long. Garcia has that power – this innate skill to comfort those around her and make them feel special, make them smile when the world feels like its collapsing.

“Let me help!” She requests.

Spencer’s clearly hesitant. He knows it’s a bad idea.

“Please!” She begs, “I just- I have so many ideas of how you can go about this. Let me brainstorm, get back to you, and if I’m too over-the-top you can tell me no and we’ll pretend it never happened!”

He takes a deep breath. Yes, Garcia is the definition of over-the-top, but that’s one of his favourite things about her. It’s your favourite thing, too. And he did tell Morgan he had big plans. Anything involving Garcia is a big plan with big payoff.

“This is between us.”

“I’ll take it to the grave. Unless you realise how amazing my ideas are and use one to tell Y/N how you feel and then years later I get to commend myself during my maid of honour speech at your wedding.”

She looks ecstatic, hands now together under her jaw as her eyes twinkle. Spencer can’t help but laugh at her eagerness.

+++

The next day, the team returns to Quantico after a semi-successful case. The general mood is good and Morgan invites everyone out for drinks – Spencer declines, but you have your first full conversation since last Friday.

“C’mon, Spence,” Your head rests against the jet seat and you blink sleepily at him, “I feel like I haven’t spoken to you for years!”

Spencer gives you a small smile, “I promised my mom I’d call her tonight. Sorry, Y/N.”

You nod in understanding, “Will you tell her I say hi?”

“Of course. She loves you.”

You grin at eachother, immediately lost in your own world. You’ve missed him more than you realised, and you have no idea what’s going through his head, but you’re happy that you’ve had this – a Spencer Reid smile that makes you feel at home and on top of the world simultaneously.

Spencer has to tear his eyes away before he blurts something stupid, like she’s not the only one that loves you.

+++

“Spencer!” Garcia greets, Cheshire cat grin on her face. “I need to see you in my dungeon, please. Immediately.”

Spencer drops the file he’s holding. Unfortunately, Penelope’s request caught the attention of the whole team.

“What business do you have in the villain’s lair, Reid?” Derek asks. You’ve looked up from your computer, Emily smirking and leaning back in her chair in expectation.

“Uh…”

“Important nerd business. Go away.” Garcia says, eyes narrow as she tugs Spencer’s hand. He’s whisked away from any further questioning, leaving the befuddled team behind.

He isn’t sure what to expect when he stumbles into Penelope’s second home, but the display in front of him explains why he overheard a conversation about missing evidence boards earlier. Penelope’s obviously been using the new printer in her cave to her advantage – there’s at least twenty different pictures printed out on one board titled “date ideas”, then the board on the right has a picture of Spencer and you in the centre with a perfectly drawn heart around it. Under and around that is a mixture of love quotes, including song lyrics and quotes directly from romantic movies. He notices “The Parliament of Fowls” on there – Garcia remembers that he mentioned it’s considered the first Valentines poem?

“Whoa,” Is all he can say.

“I know it’s a little intense,” Garcia squirms, “But! I started scrolling through Pinterest and couldn’t stop. I don’t know what came over me, maybe some type of love deity, but I started thinking about you and Y/N in a classic love film in, like, black and white and I…”

She’s out of breath from animatedly explaining.

Spencer laughs through his nose, almost a scoff, but he’s impressed. He shouldn’t have expected anything else from the Penelope Garcia.

As Spencer wanders towards the first board, Garcia follows him like a shadow, “My personal favourite is-“ She points to a picture of chocolate fondue with faceless people in very little clothing, “-this one.”

Spencer awkwardly clears his throat when he begins to think of you and him like that.

“A little much for your declaration of love, though, I get it,” Garcia nods.

He scans the board – heart speeding up when he moves from idea to idea and picturing you and him in each one. He can’t help but think no, that one would be good for our anniversary – ah, she’d love to do that one for her birthday.

“What’re you thinking?” Garcia asks quietly. She knows his brain is whirring like her computer drive, so she approaches him gently.

“This one.” He says. “Where should we do it?”

Garcia grins behind him. The one he’s referring to shows a dinner table set up outside, brown wooded table with white wooden chairs opposite eachother. There’s flowers at the centre, a bottle of wine already poured in each glass in front of a basket of cookies, and the area around is shrouded by shrubbery, fairy lights hanging delicately from every-which-way.

It’s perfect. You love fairy lights, Spencer loves cookies, and the set-up looks private enough for Spencer to feel confident when he empties his heart and soul to you.

“The roof.” Garcia says wistfully.

“We have access to that?”

“Yes.” They both know they don’t. “Leave it to me. Oh… one more thing.” She adds, hesitantly, “Can Morgan help? I’m a lot of things, including emotionally strong and your love guru, but physically I’m gonna need some assistance.”

Spencer doesn’t even need to agree – Morgan’s gonna involve himself no matter what.

+++

Five o’clock is quickly approaching and you’re slumped over your desk, lost in your work. You need to be lost in it, because ever since Garcia released Spencer from her office right after lunch he’s been sneaking glances at you (he’s not sneaky) and has made several attempts to approach you but decided against it, sharply turning and pretending he meant to go another way instead.

You are beyond confused. You assume it’s to do with the girl he’s been trying to get over – you hope he’s been trying to build the confidence to tell you exactly what happened and maybe, you really hope, he’ll invite you over for the weekend so you can slip back into your old routine.

“Psst.”

You assume they’re not trying to get your attention, so you don’t move.

“Psst!”

You still don’t move.

“Y/N!”

Your head snaps up to Spencer leaning over the divider between your desks. He looks alarmed – which is odd, given he’s the one who called you – and he opens and closes his mouth a few times before he finally speaks.

“Are you busy tonight?” He sits back and, if he wasn’t so goddamn tall, all you’d be able to see would be his eyes. His added height means you can see his eyes and his nose. You wanna kiss it.

You smile – this is an olive branch, “I am completely available for whatever it is you might need.”

You sound incredibly eager, which you are. You miss him.

His cheeks move upwards, a smile, “Can I talk to you, later, on the roof? Uh-“ He clears his throat, “-I need to tell you something.”

You raise an eyebrow, “You’re not gonna push me off, right?”

“No,” He laughs.

“Promise me.”

Now he guffaws, “I would never, Y/N!”

“Promise me, Reid!”

“Alright, alright! I promise!” He’s jokingly raising his hands in a form of surrender.

You give him another smile and turn back to your work. You feel at ease, now, thinking he’s finally gonna tell you what happened on the weekend – finally you’ll be able to help him and go back to normal.

Spencer, on the other hand, is the exact opposite of ease. He’s about to pour his heart out to you.

He takes a deep breath and looks back to his computer, which is open on a tab titled “How to Tell Someone You Like Them.”

Step 3: Be Confident.

Spencer opens a new tab and searches, “How to be confident.”

+++

Garcia hacks into Spencer’s computer to open a document and type that the roof is ready. She wishes him luck, tells him she loves him, and calls dibs on being the godmother of your future children. As if she doesn’t have enough godchildren as it is.

He clears his throat and your head snaps towards him. You’ve been done for a while, playing Tetris on your phone, waiting for Spencer to take you to the roof where he swears he won’t kill you – you’re not entirely convinced.

“Um-“ He scratches his neck, “You ready to go?”

You nod and give him a weak smile in hopes it gives him some type of reassurance.

“Whatever happened, it’s okay, Spence.”

All he does is nod in return, gathering his coat and bag. He doesn’t really register what you say, or he would’ve been very confused.

You follow him up to the roof. The elevator ride is silent and Spencer is jittery; his hands twitch and tap against his legs, he’s bouncing on his toes and he keeps looking at you through the corner of his eye. You’ve taken several deep breaths to calm your racing heart – you hate heights, and this is the closest you’ve been to Spencer in a week. This will be the longest conversation you’ve had with him in a week, too.

The second the doors open, Spencer leaps in front of you.

“Wait!”

You jump back in surprise, “What? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Completely fine. Just… when we get there, let me explain first, okay? Before you say anything.” He’s pleading, as if you’ve already told him no. You look at him with furrowed brows and mumble an ‘okay’.

You’re visibly confused as you trek up the flight of stairs to the roof. Spencer pushes open the fire door and the first thing you notice is how bright the roof is – you always assumed it’d be dark, little light, especially at night like this.

Wait.

There’s fairy lights… everywhere. You’re pretty sure this isn’t the norm for the FBI roof.

Spencer is equally as awed at what he sees before him - it’s exactly the photo he saw in Garcia’s cave brought to life, but he’s too distracted by you to fully appreciate it. You look like a child on Christmas; eyes wide, pupils blown, mouth slightly agape. You’re gorgeous.

“What…is this, Spence?” You wonder, noticing the set table, fingers grazing the roses that sit in a vase in the middle. They’re fresh and smell wonderful.

He stands a little behind you, fiddling with his hands, and clears his throat, “Would you like to take a seat?”

You do. When he finally sits, he pours you a glass of wine and you immediately take an anxious sip. Although Rossi is a big fan of wine, you rarely take interest in it only when Spencer’s involved. You’ve come to associate wine with him – a smile peeks out from your glass as you stare at the man opposite you.

“I need to get something off my chest. But there’s cookies, if you want one,” He picks one up from his plate, breaking it in half and giving it to you. He’s stalling, but you seem to take the bait and bite into it.

“Are these from the bakery two blocks away?”

“Yeah,” He replies, but he isn’t really paying attention. He doesn’t know where to begin.

You wait patiently for him to open up. You’re still unsure of what to make of all of this – the beautiful setting, the wine, the flowers, the lights. God, the lights are dazzling in the Virginia night sky. You need context, and you need it now.

“Spence-“

“Listen.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, I just…” He trails off, “I need to say what I need to say before I back out again.”

You fold your hands in your lap. You’re ready for whatever’s to come.

“Do you know how long we’ve known eachother?” He asks. His head tilts like a puppy.

“Nearly five years. Our friendaversary is coming up, you know.”

You realise, then, that this must be a celebration for that – that explains the… typically romantic setting. Before you can open your mouth to ask if that what’s this is, Spencer speaks.

“Four years, three-hundred and sixty days. That’s how long we’ve known eachother.”

“If we were dating, we would’ve been my longest relationship the second we passed a year.”

You don’t know why you said it, but it flusters him. He has to pause to take a breath and collect his thoughts.

“I’ve been in love with you for four years and three hundred and fifty-eight days, Y/N.”

It’s silent as you process and he figures out how to continue.

“I knew you were special when you were introduced to us. Hotch already had such a soft spot for you, and you had this way about you that made us all fall in love instantly. I remember Garcia did a background check the second she found out your name and she said you remind her of me and I… that freaked me out, to be honest. I thought you’d try to replace me.” He huffs a laugh, but can’t bring himself to look you in the eye, “I realised I was in love with you when you drunkenly defended me. Do you remember that?” His eyes flicker to yours for half a second – you’re wide-eyed, “You’d known me for two days at that point, but we’d already done a case together so we were celebrating. And these guys at the bar were whispering about me, acting like I couldn’t hear them, and the second you realised what was happening you stood up, stormed towards them and gave them a piece of your mind. It was incredible.

“You barely knew me, at least personally, but you thought so highly of me you scolded a group of drunk bodybuilders without a second thought. You made them apologise – it was hysterical watching someone half their size force them into submission like that – and when you were done you asked if I wanted to leave and go get ice cream. We couldn’t, cause you vomited on the way there, but I knew in that moment I loved you and I feel so hard, so quickly, I didn’t know what to do. And you never… you never indicated you thought of me as anything other than a friend so I didn’t try. Then you dated Greg who, in my opinion, sucked on his best days, and you encouraged me to date Abigail and I…”

He’s run out of breath and of things to say.

“I just love you, Y/N. I’m in love with you.” He adds, “I hope that’s okay.”

He finally looks at you, then. You’re just staring and he panics when he can’t make out what you’re feeling. He’s always been able to read you, you’ve always hated the saying that eyes are the windows to the soul because your eyes are always your tell, but now they’re… glassy.

You’re crying.

“Spencer…” You gasp, throat tight.

“It’s okay.” Spencer gives a tight-lipped smile. He knows what’s coming. He should’ve expected it. He has been expecting it.

“I love you too, Spence.”

Spencer chokes on air. He takes a gulp of wine.

You give him a teary smile in disbelief, “I’ve always loved you, Spence. I thought you knew that – I thought that big brain of yours knew exactly how I felt and… you didn’t do anything about it so I thought you didn’t feel the same. Spencer…”

He slowly moves a hand to place it palm-up on the table. Immediately you place your hand in his, your grip tight as you lovingly stare at him. This feels unreal.

“I’m in love with you too, you idiot.” You half laugh, half cry, “If you’ve really loved me this long, we’ve wasted so much time! God, we’re both idiots.”

Spencer’s crying too, now, and he starts laughing with you.

You’re two idiots in love, sitting opposite eachother on the roof of your place of work in a dream-like surrounding filled with fairy lights and flowers, and you could’ve been doing this for years.

Spencer sniffles, looking at you through his wet eyelashes, “Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

“If I say yes, will I get more dates like this?” You tease.

“Well, Garcia has a whole evidence board of date ideas she stole from Pinterest. We have enough ideas to last a lifetime.” He giggles.

“Penny was in on this?!”

Spencer gives a heh, “This is all thanks to her, so yeah.”

“She’s always had our backs.”

“She’s also now going to be convinced she’s cupid.”

You laugh again, and can’t help yourself when you lean across the table, still gripping Spencer’s hand, and letting your lips fall on his. Spencer leans into you, lips moving against yours as you both try to suppress grins.

You pull back slightly, Spencer’s lips following you, and whisper, “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

He kisses you again. And again. And again, just cause he can.

Big plan, big payoff. You’re worth every little stress and more.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #mine #garcia is watching everything through the security cameras btw #you think she'd do all this and NOT watch her hard work flourish?#think AGAIN

1K notes · View notes

xpeachesncream · 4 years

Text

acquainted | four

> series masterlist <

summary: the biggest goal of a grad student is to get through school in one piece - no petty drama involved, no sweating over the little things. however, that plan almost always never follows through. sometimes, you can’t help but fall into the most unthinkable, unexpected traps and learn the hard way. like, exhibit a: being unable to resist your engaged, substitute teacher, kim seokjin.

pairing: (2nd bts member to be revealed) x reader x engaged!teacher!seokjin

genre: grad school au, student life au | fluff, angst, smut (to come)

words: 4.2k

warnings: implied sexual content, your friends are still extra, cussing / mature language, relationship issues, angst, making out, slight dry humping, you actually act on your hoe-ish thoughts because seokjinnie keeps testing you??

notes: 2nd member involved in this love triangle will be revealed next chapter and it’s actually gonna start getting messy. are you with me? 😈

tags: @laurynne5 @yiyi4657 @miinoongi @teamtardis-notdead @bluesharksandfish @photographic-girl (pls msg me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

A couple of days have passed and you were only getting more giddy as time passes. It sounds stupid as hell, and sometimes you can't help but curse yourself for having a crush on someone so unattainable. The thrill, though, is what excites you, and knowing that there's a possibility Jin may reciprocate the same feelings. Since he had placed his number in your phone, he had sent you random, occasional 'have a good day!' texts and smiley faces. Maybe it didn't help that he was only fueling the fire by sending you texts like this. You couldn't help but ponder on the thought that you had crossed his mind from time to time, and that my friends, was fucking attractive.

"Her head game was on point." Taehyung smirked and leaned back in his chair, making Ryujin roll her eyes at him.

"You're sick, no one asked about your night."

"Why do you sound so mad, sweetie?" He leaned closer to her.

"I'm not mad." She scooted her chair away from him. "Can you believe this right now?" She shot you a look, but you were too busy texting on your phone, responding to the messages you couldn't get to earlier.

[jin] 3:05pm: I hope your day has been treating you well. See you soon?

[y/n] 5:37pm: Been a little busy, but hasn't been bad. :) Excited for class!

You laughed at yourself because who even says 'Excited for class' like that? You were really playing yourself right now.

"Earth to Mr. Kim's mistress?" You shot Taehyung a look and immediately shoved his face away.

"Jeez, you've been glued to your phone so much lately. Did you find new dick, or something?" Ryujin asked as she rested her chin on the palm of her hand.

"No, god. I've just been trying to keep myself occupied." She shrugs and doesn't press any further. Thank god, because you hadn't told any of your friends how Jin comforted you that evening and how he had given you his personal number just to check in every now and then. You didn't plan on telling them anytime soon, only because they'd be dramatic about it and you didn't have the energy to calm the chaos that would ensue.

"Speaking of - have you guys started the assignment due next week for Mr. Kim's class?" Jimin kept his eyes on the work in front of him.

"No. I'll probably do that the day of." Taehyung says as he texts on his phone.

"I was going to ask him for help later."

"Were you now?" Jimin rose his eyebrow, shooting you a look.

"Yes, and it's only because I can't choose which topic to write about."

"Why don't you ask us?"

"Because this always ends up being an open-ended debate and the conversation ultimately ends with no decision made." Jimin nodded in agreement.

"Touché."

"Bat your eyelashes while you're at it, kay?" Ryujin giggles.

"You guys are free to join me."

"Mmm no thanks, I don't think I need any help right now." Jimin responds.

"Same. Besides, I'd rather not cockblock."

"Honestly so sick of you guys." You all end up packing your things to head to Jin's classroom, all four of you entering one by one and taking your seats near the front. Class goes by rather quickly, you and Jin stealing glances from time to time. Ryujin, Jimin and Taehyung offer to wait up for you near the library and you simply nod, letting them know you'll only take a quick minute to talk about the assignment. Once they've disappeared from the hallway corridor, you turn on your heels to make your way over to Jin at the front desk, where he's arranging his things and getting them together.

"Y/N, hey." He smiles at you, tilting his head to look at you from his stance. "What's up?"

"I uh, just wanted to ask for your opinion about the assignment. If.. you aren't busy?" He chuckled and shook his head.

"No, not at all. What's going on?"

"Well, I've just been having trouble deciding on a topic." You placed your things down.

"Alright, try me." He nods towards the whiteboard, signaling for you to scribble your ideas onto the board so he could help you map out your thoughts. You quietly walk over, grabbing the only black whiteboard marker available and start talking through your thoughts. He sits on the desk, arms crossed, watching you scribble on the board. He chimes in every now and then, either agreeing or disagreeing, and providing his honest opinion as to what might work best for the assignment.

"Mm, okay. I think that makes better sense." You step back and take a look at the things you've crossed out and circled, leaving you to finalize the topic for your assignment.

"Yeah, I think so." He stands and nods in agreement. You turn to look at him, only to realize how close in proximity your body was to his. His hands are tucked into his pockets while he looks down at you. Both of you don't move, regardless of how close you two are at the moment. You feel stuck, and the only option that crosses your mind is something you shouldn't even be thinking about. Yet, you still act on it. You find yourself on your tippy-toes laying a kiss on his plump lips, but you quickly pull away and gasp, realizing what you had done.

"I-I'm so sorry, I-" You stutter as you step back to try and quickly grab your things. "I gotta go." You dash out of the room, your heart beating through your chest. As soon as you were far as possible from his room, you slowed your pace to gather your breathing. You facepalmed so hard because what the fuck! You felt dumb as hell for acting the way you did, let alone for thinking his texts and all the attention even meant anything.

Way to fucking go, Y/N. You could feel how embarrassing next class will be already.

As soon as you spot your friends, you try to put on a smile and brush the thoughts out of your head when you see them waving you over. Jimin instantly throws his arm around your shoulder, helping you feel at ease as you momentarily forget about the events that just transpired.

"Ready? We're gonna go grab some pizza before heading home." You smiled at him.

"Yeah, I'm down."

Jin grabbed his things, feeling a little conflicted about what just happened. He knew this was something that shouldn't have happened, nor should it ever happen again. Yet, he wanted more of this feeling you gave him. He longed for it. He couldn't explain the feeling he got when he felt your lips against his, he just knew he was interested in more. It was bad as fuck, but it was the same thrill you felt that peeked his interest.

Jin pulled into the lot of him and Grace's house, seeing he was the first one home yet again. It wasn't a surprise to him anymore, and quite frankly, he was used to being home first all the time. It would have been a surprise if Grace was here before he was. Not gonna lie, after what happened, it makes him feel a little empty inside. He's starting to feel like he wanted more of you and to see you outside of campus grounds. He wanted your company and enjoyed your presence, inside of the classroom and even through simple things like text. It just made him happy, and like he was appreciated. Wanted.

Yeah, that quick. He was starting to crave you.

He kicked off his shoes by the door and changed into comfier clothes. He took some time to work out at their home gym before eating whatever leftovers were left in the fridge. He happily warms up his food and quickly gobbles it up, leaving the dishes in the sink for him to get to later. He hops into a hot, relaxing shower, letting the heat hit his back and relax him from all the stress he had been experiencing lately. It was so relaxing that he didn't even hear Grace shut their front door. He only found out he wasn't alone when he heard dishes being washed and slammed onto the dish rack and cabinet doors being slammed shut. He dried himself off a bit, before wrapping the towel around his waist and heading into the kitchen to see what the commotion was.

"Hey, you're home." He says with a smile on his face, but she continued to place dishes on the rack without looking at him.

"Yeah, and you couldn't even think to wash your dishes and clean up the kitchen?" His smile immediately turned into a frown when he realized Grace was far from being in a good mood. Over what? Dishes that he was eventually going to wash anyways?

"I was going to get to them."

"Jeez, Jin. I've had such a long day, the least you could do is help out and clean up after yourself." She glared at him.

"Woah, hey. I do my part around here. Just because I didn't do my dishes right away doesn't mean I don't do anything at all under this house."

"Hasn't seemed like it." She walked away, brushing him off completely. If it's one thing Jin could point out about his fiancé, it was the fact that she liked to project when she was upset. It was the one thing that drove him crazy, and the one thing he felt like couldn't be fixed. It was just in her nature, no matter how many times they've fought and argued about it. He tries to be patient and understanding. He tries to relate. Yes, I'm sorry you had a bad day. But just because you had a bad day, doesn't mean you bring the negative energy into this house.

"That's not fair, Grace."

"Grow up, Jin." She snapped as she headed upstairs. "I'm going up to pack and head to bed." He continued to watch her, appalled at the attitude she was throwing tonight. He really couldn't understand why this was happening over some dishes. He didn't wanna be here right now, and he wasn't going to deal with this shit. To be honest, he was feeling a little relieved knowing he'd get some space from her when she flies to New York for a week. She had some work to do for the opening of her restaurant down there, plus some related projects for her book.

He heads upstairs to throw on some jeans, a hoodie and a hat before passing Grace in their walk-in closet.

"Off for a drive again, huh?" She says as she keeps her eyes on the luggage laid out in front of her. It's sad that Grace knows what Jin does whenever he doesn't wanna deal with her attitude. But, no matter how many times he's tried to communicate and talk it out, it never mattered to her.

"Yeah, because it doesn't seem like you can communicate properly tonight."

"And how is a drive supposed to help?" She turns to look at him, but he doesn't say anything. She scoffs before returning her attention back to the clothes she was packing into her luggage. "Perfect. Run away from our issues, Jin. It's what you do best." He shook his head and sighed.

"I'm not doing this with you tonight, Grace. Not over some dishes that were eventually going to get washed and fixed." He walked out, but turned back on his heel to finish off his thoughts. "You know, I really wanted to have a nice night with you. Pop some wine and put on a movie, just to enjoy being in each other's presence since it feels like we haven't done that in a really long time. But, so be it." He threw his hands up in defeat and continued to walk out. He really did want to try, though. Part of him felt like he needed to because he was probably just longing for that attention from his fiancé, which is why he had been feeling the way he had been about you. Maybe it would have helped him brush it off like it was a silly, little crush. However, tonight just amplified those feelings he had for you and he wanted nothing more but to just see you and hear your voice.

He lowers the brim of his cap as he walks to his car, instantly starting it up and driving off. At first, he was conflicted. He wasn't sure if he was making the right decision or not, or if his judgment was cloudy. But something in him tweaked and made him say, fuck it. He was tired, and for once, he just wanted to feel wanted.

You sat on your living room floor, putting together a vision board for yourself. A ton of magazine cut outs and printouts laid alongside of you, waiting to be organized onto the small white board. You had been rearranging the layout for quite some time, feeling a little frustrated at the perfectionist in you. This definitely could have been quicker if you hadn't picked at the fine details too much. It was nearing 10:30pm; after you and your friends had ate pizza together, you all went your separate ways, tired from this week's events already. You especially didn't want to linger around, the thought of you kissing Jin in the classroom still haunting you. You felt your phone vibrating off to the side, signaling a call coming in.

Speak of the devil.

You hesitate, afraid that this had to do with what happened earlier and to be frank, you weren't sure if you were ready to deal with the repercussions just yet. The call ends, but a text notification pops up at the top of your screen.

[jin] 10:27pm: Are you free right now?

[y/n] 10:28pm: Sorry, yeah I am. What's up?

[jin] 10:29pm: Can we meet up?

You stare at your phone, unsure if you should take the opportunity to see him. It could mean a lot of things, or it could mean nothing. It could be about the kiss, or it couldn't be. But, you can't help but feel a little guilty that he had been there for you when you needed someone and here you were, contemplating if you should blow him off.

[y/n] 10:32pm: Sure. Is everything okay?

[jin] 10:32pm: I think, kind of just need some good company.

[y/n] 10:33pm: Oh, okay. Yeah, I'll come. Just let me know where.

You watch as he drops his location into the message, and it's not too far from where you live. You actually are quite familiar with the area to know that he's sending you up to a view that overlooks the Bay Bridge. You and your friends used to go there often during undergrad, just to eat edibles and eat hella junk food. Those were the days. You all quickly outgrew it though.

The drive up is a little scary, with only a few street lights posted as you drive up the hill. You catch a glimpse of Jin's car, being that he's already leaning against it, facing the view. You pull up into the empty spot next it, taking a deep breath and recollecting your thoughts before stepping out. Whatever it is, just be honest. That kiss was because you wanted to kiss him, but perhaps you misread the vibe about everything.

Not perhaps. You for sure misread the vibe about everything. He's fucking engaged. There was no way.

"I brought you brownie." Is the first thing you say as you hand him a ziploc with a huge brownie square. "There's no weed in it or anything, I promise it's clean." He chuckles as he takes it from you. "I just figured you could use a picker upper since you seemed like you might've need it."

"Thank you." His trunk had been open, so he takes a seat and invites you to sit next to him. You leave a bit of space just to be sure, since you already crossed your boundaries earlier and you weren't even sure how that was gonna play in to tonight.

"So, what's on your mind?" You dread asking him the question but you knew there was a reason he brought you out here.

"I, uh. Just had a pretty tough day and wanted to surround myself around good company." He turned to look at you.

"Oh, so I made the good company list?" You chuckle.

"Yeah, you did." He looks back out at the view. You examine him, his body language still a little tense from whatever he had just experienced.

"Was it Grace?" You ask softly and he nods in return.

"We've just been having issues. It's no biggie."

"No biggie, huh? Then why are we out here looking at the bay bridge?" He chuckles again. You think it's cute the way his dimples under his eyes pop out when he smiles and laughs.

"Touché. I mean, what if I just wanted to hang out with someone who could cheer me up?"

"Wow, then that's a lot of pressure on me." You laugh. "I can already tell something's wrong. You were there for me, so I just want you to know that I'm all ears." He sighed.

"It's kind of dumb? Maybe not? Me and Grace just haven't been the same for awhile now."

"How so?"

"We're just distant. We haven't done things together like we used to because we're both busy and so wrapped up with work."

"Jin." You smile shyly because this couldn't be a serious excuse. You always need to try and make things work! "You know being busy shouldn't be an excuse, right?"

"I know, I know." He shakes his head. "I'm sorry, it's difficult to explain. I question if we're still in love with each other or if we're just sticking to this because we're comfortable."

"Deep down, I know you still love and care for her."

"I do. It's been hard to show that these past months. I guess.. what I'm trying to say is that it's been easy to focus more on the negatives than the positives. There have been more negatives than positives."

"Why don't you sit her down and talk about this?"

"I can't. I try, but I really can't. She's always coming home in a nasty mood all the time."

"Well, she might have a lot to balance on her plate. Not everyone approaches things the same way and if you know Grace easily shuts people out when she's overwhelmed or stressed, then I think you just need to continue supporting her by simply being there for her."

"I know." He looks down at his hands.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm just thinking. I hear you loud and clear though." He smiles at you toothlessly.

"Try talking to her. Work it out. I know she's important to you."

"She is but," He shakes his head once more. "I can't shake off this feeling."

"What feeling?"

"It's going to sound stupid."

"Nothing is ever stupid." He simply looked at you before responding.

"Earlier, in the classroom—" Fuck, you thought. You thought you had just gotten lucky tonight and that you both had put it past you so that you could move on without ever mentioning it. But half of you knew you'd still have to confront your mistake either way. Nothing was ever that easy.

"Jin, I'm so sorry, I didn't think about—"

"I didn't want you to stop." He spits out, causing you to stop mid-sentence. Your eyes widened after you had just registered what he had said. Was he fucking playing with you right now? This shit really couldn't be real.

"W-what?"

"I can't shake off this feeling because of you and as bad as it sounds, I really don't want that to go away."

"Jin." You say softly. "You should really work this out with Grace. This feeling is just temporary and you know it is because she's your fiancé. What happened earlier was a mistake and it shouldn't have happened." It kind of sucks, but it's true. You don't really know why you did what you did and what you wanted out of it. You knew what this would entail and it would be too messy. People would just end up getting hurt left and right. It would be a domino effect.

"Was it though?"

"I'm not trying to get in between you two." You beat around the bush with your response.

"Then, what did you want out of that earlier?" He stares at you. You can't help but feel yourself melt at the way he's eyeing you and the way he's actually teasing the fuck out of you with his piercing eyes.

"I don't know." He continues to stare, but this time his face is edging closer to yours.

"You can't even tell me straight up that it was nothing." He says, almost at a whisper. Your knees are starting to buckle beneath you and although you knew you needed to stop this, you couldn't see yourself doing it right at this moment.

"We shouldn't be doing this." You whisper, his lips inches away from yours at this point.

"Then why aren't you stopping me, Y/N?" No response. Before you knew it, your eyes were shut as your lips pressed against his. The feeling of his lips sent chills down your spine, his hand now tugging you closer to his body. You waste no time straddling his lap, deepening the kiss as your hands rest on his face and your hips grind against his. God, he was so fucking attractive and everything about him drove your ass crazy. You wanted him.

But you couldn't have him.

"Stop, stop." You edged your head back, reality settling in once his hands start to dip inside your sweats. "We really shouldn't be doing this." You climb off of him and gather your things.

"Y/N, wait."

"Jin." You turn to look at him. "Listen to me. We would never work."

"I wouldn't say never—"

"Look, this is already difficult as is and I'm trying really hard not to make this even more complicated for anyone. At the end of the day, you're still with Grace. You're still engaged to Grace." You emphasized. "I can't get in between you two, and I don't want to hurt her." How in the fuck did things escalate so quickly? How did we get here?

"I know that, and I know you don't. But you can't tell me that you didn't feel anything just now."

"I'm not saying that I didn't. I did, I-I do." You stuttered on your own words. "But I shouldn't be acting on it and neither should you. You should really focus on working things out in your relationship. I know deep down you love her and want to make this work."

"That's the thing, Y/N. I don't know how else I can make this work with her. I've ran out of options."

"Jin, you planned to marry her! You do understand that you can't just give up on someone like that, especially your future wife."

"As much as I appreciate this and understand where you're coming from, you don't know our relationship."

"I just don't want you to give up on her. I want you to try for her, not just because I told you so." He can see how serious things have turned, and he knew you were right. This would be complicated. But damn, was he undeniably attracted to you and he loved the feeling he got from all of this.

"I-" He sighs. "You make me feel things that I haven't felt in a long time."

"You have your life planned out already, and so does Grace. You obviously saw a life and a future with her, and that's what you should continue building. I don't even know how to get from point A to point B in life and I still have shit to learn. Like-like changing car lights or how to do a fucking oil change by myself! I'm a mess. I'm not the one you should be thinking about."

"I don't care about that." He spits out as he gently grabs your wrist and turns you to face him.

"Don't make this harder than it already is." With all this shit going on, you still found yourself wanting him the same way you did earlier. Looking at him made you want to do unspeakable things and it didn't help that he gave you the green light to do so.

The temptations.

"I'm not trying to."

"We should really keep our distance from each other, okay? You need to work things out and I'm going to give you the space to do so."

"Fuck, Y/N. I really don't want that."

"I'm sorry." You whisper as you break free from his grip and get back into your car. You hear him groan, causing you to cry to yourself as you drive off and get back home. One mistake turned everything upside down, and now everything was suddenly 10x more complicated than it ever was in the beginning. You couldn't help but curse yourself and blame yourself for letting this happen the way it did.

But shit is done. The mistake happened. There was no taking it back.

You just needed to give him space to get over it, and that would be the end of it. Easy.

Or so you assume.

156 notes · View notes

rafael-silva · 4 years

Text

in your safety: a tarlos fic

A thought crosses his mind and he finds himself grabbing on to it. He carefully moves up in his bed, turning on the side lamp sitting on his nightstand. He grabs his phone and opens a recent text thread. TK: [11:17 PM] Are you awake?

—

TK can’t really sleep after he’s discharged from the hospital. One night, he goes searching for comfort and a shoulder to lean on. He finds both.

A 1.09 missing scene.

for bad things happen bingo: tarlos + insomnia

emotional hurt/comfort, hurt/comfort, angst, comfort, fluff, worried carlos reyes, cuddles, soft kisses, tk strand needs a hug, missing scene

2.8k | on ao3

*****

TK is no stranger to insomnia.

He’s been dealing with it on and off since his parents’ divorce, trying to come to terms with it. It was hard at first, he’d find himself lying wide awake in bed, thoughts racing as he tossed and turned, sleep never finding him. Other days he’d have a hard time waking up, or he’d wake up exhausted, almost like he didn’t sleep at all.

It got better with time, though. Some remedies helped along the way, as well as talking to his dad about it and working through some of the thoughts that had kept him wide awake, lurking in the depth of his mind.

TK would say he’s been doing better overall, aside from a few nights here and there where sleep had proven to be difficult or he’d be restless, he’d come a long way since he was a little kid.

Until he got shot. And for the nights following his release from the hospital, he found himself transported back to when he was seven years old, staring up at the ceiling. He can’t even burn off the restless and anxious energy with tossing and turning due to the stitches in his still-sore chest.

It doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots between the shooting and the insomnia TK is experiencing. He can’t remember the events, but there is still something nagging at him in his gut, keeping him awake. Keeping his mind switched on.

TK would sometimes find Owen still awake after a round of fitful sleep and they’d talk about anything, falling into a light conversation that would help ease TK’s mind and quieten his thoughts.

But TK had convinced Owen to go back to work once he was settled at home, and Owen was currently halfway into a twenty-four hour shift. TK isn’t the biggest fan of Owen’s well-meant hovering, it sometimes making him climb the walls, but if the firefighter was also being completely honest, the house is too lonely and silent for his liking in this moment. He could use a little bit of comfort or someone to talk to.

TK: [11:17 PM] Are you awake?

TK places his phone next to him, worrying his bottom lip as he waits.

His phone pings a minute later.

Carlos: [11:18 PM] Yeah.

Carlos: [11:18 PM] Everything okay?

TK’s anxiety starts getting the best of him, and his mind is suddenly searching for ways out.

He aware he’s taking too long to answer when another message comes through.

Carlos: [11:22 PM] TK?

Carlos’s growing concern is palpable through his text.

TK: [11:23 PM] Sorry. Yeah, everything’s fine.

Then TK realizes he owes Carlos an explanation.

TK: [11:23 PM] I can’t sleep.

Carlos’s reply comes immediately.

Carlos: [11:23 PM] Are you home alone?

TK: [11:24 PM] Yeah. Dad’s on shift.

TK draws in a deep breath and continues to chew on his bottom lip.

TK: [11:25 PM] Can I come over?

TK’s face starts to heat up as the anxiety continues to brew in his gut, watching the three grey dots appear and disappear a few times. He’s starting to dread he’s asked for too much.

He doesn’t know where he stands with Carlos, especially when it comes to a request like this one. He’s gone to Carlos’s place multiple times before, but when the officer had asked him to come over. TK’s never asked himself and he’s worried he crossed a line.

They haven’t talked about what they are, and TK hadn’t even given Owen a straight answer when his father asked. Owen put one and one together when Carlos stood in the doorway of TK’s hospital door with tear-streaked cheeks, figuring out that there’s…something between him and his son, but even after some playful teasing from Owen’s side once TK woke up, the younger man still hadn’t given him much. He didn’t deny it, though.

The truth is, TK is falling for Carlos. And it scares him. Confusion has been his one constant feeling since he woke up in the hospital, feeling like his entire life was turned upside down. Not only was he still healing from what happened in New York, but he had absolutely no intention of starting or getting into anything until he got back on his feet when he moved to Austin.

Then Carlos Reyes strode into his life and effortlessly began tearing down the walls TK had built around himself. After attempts to run and hide and the failure of said attempts, TK let him. Because even a part of him couldn’t deny that it felt right with Carlos, it felt natural. It was a tug of war within TK, the desire to build his walls back up with cement and the desire to let Carlos in. And TK certainly didn’t expect to fall for the other man as quickly as he did.

That doesn’t change the fact that he still doesn’t know what he and Carlos are and where they stand. He felt a shift in their relationship in the couple of weeks prior to getting shot, with a lingering impression that this thing between them might be going somewhere.

Then a bullet to the chest gave TK a run for his money and halted all. It circles back to confusion for TK, about who he is, what he wants to do with his life. And all that confusion inevitably ties in with Carlos, and the nature of their relationship.

The fog of confusion had been growing more and more in the days after his hospital release, as TK began to doubt everything.

TK may not remember getting shot, but he certainly feels his life crumbling in the aftermath.

So yeah, he wasn’t exactly sure how Carlos was going to respond to his request. And he couldn’t really make an educational guess either. He knows Carlos has a kind heart and a warm soul, but everyone has lines and limits, and TK isn’t sure where inviting himself over to Carlos’s place falls on the officer’s. He prays he hadn’t crossed either.

But Carlos is safety, and TK will hold onto that for as long as he can.

TK doesn’t have to wonder about Carlos’s response for much longer because another ping brings him back from his thoughts.

Carlos: [11:26 PM] Of course. I’ll leave the front porch light on.

TK feels a weight lifted off his chest. A small smile tugs on the corner of his lips as he types back a reply.

TK: [11:26 PM] Thanks. I’ll be there in 20.

After throwing on a hoodie and sneakers, TK orders an Uber and waits outside. The car arrives in a matter of minutes, and he finds himself heading to Carlos’s in under five minutes from sending the last text. He sends a message to his father this time, telling him that he’ll be at Carlos’s place.

Carlos is wearing a black t-shirt and grey sweats when he opens the door for TK. He smiles, stepping to the side to let the firefighter in and locking the door behind him.

TK lingers close, hands stuffed into the pocket on the front of his hoodie as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, nervous as he watches the officer.

“Would you like anything? Food or water?” Carlos asks TK once he’s sure everything is locked and the lights are turned off.

“No, thanks, I’m good,” TK replies. “Thanks for letting me come over. Sorry if it was a weird request, I just—”

“TK, it’s okay. You’re welcome here anytime, and I’m glad you reached out,” Carlos’s smile widens a little, reaching his captivating brown eyes.

TK reciprocates, albeit with a smaller smile than Carlos’s and then his eyes go a little wide when Carlos extends his hand towards him.

“I was about to get into bed,” Carlos explains, his face soft.

TK nods and takes Carlos’s hand, letting the slightly larger man lead them up the stairs. The warmth radiating from Carlos’s tough helps calm TK’s racing heart, the touch grounding him and offering comfort. The comfort he was searching for.

TK unconsciously tightens his grip on Carlos’s hand, trying to hold onto that support for as long as he could. Carlos gives him a quick look over his shoulder, and something in his features tells TK he’ll have it for as long as he wants.

They enter Carlos’s bedroom, separating their connection as the officer walks over to his preferred side of the bed. TK makes his way to the other, tipping off his shoes and removing his hoodie. Carlos pulls the duvet back, plugs his phone into the charger and climbs into bed. TK watches him for a few moments before following, crossing his legs on the mattress, sitting criss-crossed now and drops his hands into his lap.

“You okay?”

TK shrugs.

“Have you been sleeping at all since you got home from the hospital?” Carlos asks, having noticed the black bags hanging under TK’s eyes and the exhaustion written on his face.

“Few hours every night,” TK whispers.

“TK…” Carlos sighs.

“I know,” TK looks at Carlos. “But I just can’t sleep.”

Carlos’s response is interrupted by TK’s phone pinging in his pocket.

He fishes it out of his sweats and reads the new text.

“It’s from my dad,” TK says. “I told him I was coming here so he doesn’t worry.”

“And?” Carlos wonders, suddenly nervous himself about Owen’s reaction.

“He said okay and to call or text him if I need anything,” TK answers.

“He’s not surprised,” Carlos states rather than questions.

“No,” TK chuckles weakly. “He knows, about…” he makes a back and forth gesture between him and Carlos with a hand. “He kind of put one and one together. Asked me about it when I woke up. Not directly, though.”

Carlos raises an eyebrow at TK, intrigued about that conversation between father and son.

TK playfully rolls his eyes. “So, he’s been seeing this Psychology professor, head of the department actually and he didn’t mention anything before. And she was at the hospital with him when I woke up. Later I ask how long he’s been seeing her, and he said he’ll tell me when I tell him how long I’ve been seeing the cop. His words.”

Carlos winces slightly, but still a slight blush colors his cheeks. “Yeah, that’s on me. I stopped by after you were out of the surgery.” With tear-stained cheeks goes unsaid.

TK nods. “Yeah, dad mentioned. That’s how he connected the dots.”

“I’m sorry if that made it uncomfortable or anything, or if you weren’t ready for your dad to know about…I just wanted to see you. I was getting updates from Paul but it wasn’t the same,” Carlos confesses.

“No, no,” TK shakes his head. “Not at all. I get it, don’t worry about that. I…wanted you there.”

“I was just…really glad to hear your voice when you called,” Carlos expresses, his voice gentle.

TK gives him a small smile. He had called Carlos after he woke up, and the cop’s heart had soared and the fear lifted upon hearing his name tumble out of TK’s mouth once again. Perhaps his favorite time TK had said his name since they’ve known each other. Carlos stopped by the house once TK was settled in, and now is the second time they’re seeing each other since TK was sent home.

They don’t bring up their relationship status or what they are, both sensing that the other is tired and drained and it’s not really the time or place for said conversation. TK knows they’ll eventually have to talk about it, but for now, he’s satisfied just being close to Carlos. They can deal with the rest later.

“You can sleep, I don’t want to keep you up,” TK speaks. “I’ll probably be up for a while.”

Carlos shakes his head. “I’ll stay up with you. I don’t need to be up early, I have tomorrow off.”

TK gives him a grateful smile in response, happy for the company as they slip into comfortable silence.

It’s Carlos who breaks the quiet. He lifts his arm for TK while moving closer to the firefighter.

“Come here,” Carlos murmurs, an invitation which TK accepts.

TK gets closer to Carlos, and careful about his stitches, glues his side to Carlos’s. He rests his head against Carlos’s shoulder and Carlos wraps an arm around TK’s. Carlos runs his hand up and down TK’s arm, to help sooth and relax the injured man.

“So, there’s something I’ve been thinking about,” TK begins. “Since I got home. My insomnia is definitely related to what happened, falling into the pattern of it getting worse with stressful situations. I can’t remember a thing from getting shot, no nightmares or anything but I keep thinking about the kid.”

Carlos tightens his hold on TK, more instinctively than anything else. And TK’s words take him back to that night.

Carlos could immediately tell it was Judd speaking, his words echoing through the radio, the Texan firefighter’s usually steady tone laced with panic as he reported, dispatch, we have shots fired, firefighter down, I repeat firefighter down…and Carlos will never forget how his heart dropped into his stomach, his gut twisting and turning and there was no way he’d know who was down from the team, not yet, but it’s almost like he sensed it. Like he felt it. He had already driven away from the house and it took every ounce of his control to not take the first u-turn and race towards the hospital.

And when his phone had continuously vibrated in his pocket, Carlos’s heart sped up in his chest, fearing that his gut was right. The caller ID was all the confirmation he needed.

“Is he okay? He’s not…” Carlos had wasted no time after answering Paul’s call, trailing off, not even daring to utter the last word in his thought process. Because if TK was okay, he’d be the one calling him or would have sent him a text.

TK’s voice seeps into his ears and brings him back to the present, Carlos’s grasp on the younger man never faltering or loosening. He knows they both need it.

“That poor kid,” TK continues. “I can’t even imagine what he’s going through. I can’t even remember and I’m struggling with it, how heavy this must be for a little boy…”

Carlos leans in, closing the distance between them by brushing a kiss to TK’s temple. He then drops his head a little, touching his forehead to where he planted the kiss. TK leans into Carlos a little more, as much as he can without pulling at his stitches.

“I want to go see him, the kid,” TK reveals. “I think it’s going to help him, to see that I’m okay and to know that I don’t blame him.”

Carlos pulls back to watch TK, and he notices how his green eyes are glassy with unshed tears.

“That’s very thoughtful and kind, TK,” Carlos softly speaks. “I think you should, too. And I also think it’s going to help you, as well.”

TK turns to face Carlos.

“You’re healing from something you don’t remember happening,” Carlos says. “That in itself is taking a toll on you, it’s tough to deal with. But I think seeing that boy is going to help you come to terms with what happened. I think it’s going to make that weight sitting on your shoulders lighter.”

TK draws in a deep breath at Carlos’s declaration, letting his words sink in and just then realizing how much he needed to hear them.

Without a word, TK cuddles closer to Carlos, resting his head above the officer’s heart and draping an arm over his waist. He closes his eyes, taking even breaths guided by Carlos’s steady heartbeat.

“Do you think it will come back to me? That I’ll remember it?” TK asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe,” Carlos replies. “Only time will tell.”

“I don’t want to feel this pain again if I do remember it one day,” TK swallows against his throat.

“I can’t promise that you won’t feel the pain,” Carlos admits with sadness coating his voice. “But I can promise that I’ll be right here for you. You’re not alone, TK.”

TK sniffs, a tear rolling down his cheek.

He wants to stay here and not move, engulfed in Carlos’s arms, his touch, his scent. In Carlos’s safety. In his heart.

He hears Carlos’s voice from above.

“Get some rest, TK.”

And contradictory to his earlier statement, TK is already drifting off, his mind calm and heartbeat even. He finally feels at peace.

The kiss Carlos presses to the top of his head is the last thing TK feels before falling asleep.

And for the first time since he was discharged from the hospital, TK sleeps through the night.

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years

Text

Damsels, Chapter Three: Interview

By SisterSpooky1013 / Read Previous Chapters Here

Rated E / Tagging @today-in-fic

The Hoover building is deserted at 4am, which is exactly why she has to be there so early. She arrives at Skinner’s office with nothing but her car keys and the casual clothing on her back. Agent Wiley, a young woman in her twenties, greets Scully warmly. She’s tall and brunette with an hourglass figure, and Scully has the passing thought that she is exactly Mulder’s type. She wonders if they’ve ever met.

“I’ll drive you to your apartment in Philly where you’ll stay for the duration of the undercover assignment, Agent Scully,” Wiley says in an authoritative though very high pitched voice. “We’ll leave your car in the bureau garage for the duration, but you can give A.D. Skinner your keys for safekeeping.”

Scully hands Skinner her keys and he sets them on top of his desk, rubbing his hands over a weary and sleep-rumpled face.

“I’ll fill you in on the case details on the way. Let’s hit the road, we’ve got a two and a half hour drive ahead of us,” she finishes, slinging her purse over her shoulder and making for the door.

Scully follows her mutely. Just as she reaches the door herself, Skinner speaks.

“Agent Scully?” he asks in a hoarse voice. She turns to face him. “I…I…” He keeps restarting his sentence, but never gets further than that.

Scully finally interjects. “It’s okay, sir. I understand. We all have a job to do.”

He nods at her with a grateful expression, and she follows Agent Wiley out to the parking garage.

The sun is just beginning to brighten the inky sky as they drive out of D.C. Agent Wiley is chatty behind the wheel as Scully leafs through the case file; once they get to Philly, she won’t have the opportunity to see it again. The only trace of Dana Scully in her apartment will be a burner cell phone, which she is to keep off and hidden in an air duct in the wall. She will call Agent Wiley at least every other day, or as needed, to share any updates. She is to turn the phone on only when she’s sure no one else is in the apartment with her. She is expected to get as close as possible to the other dancers at the club, one of whom they believe to be Mila Chamberlain. In the file, there’s a photo of Mila, a young Asian woman with a short blonde pixie cut and penetrating dark brown eyes. There is also her parents’ account of her disappearance shortly after meeting Ricky at a party, and their fears that’s she’s a victim of sex trafficking.

“Your cover is Diane Sellers, recently divorced and needing work,” Agent Wiley explains. “To our understanding, they won’t ask you much about your history, but it’s still good to have a backstory ready. It can be helpful to use real details from your life in regards to things like siblings, parents, and past romantic partners, just because it’s easier to keep straight. We don’t recommend addiction being a part of your backstory, in case that affects Ricky’s willingness to trust you. You should immerse yourself as much as possible with the staff, including spending time with them outside work if you can. You can have them over to your apartment, which is why it’s important that there’s nothing there that isn’t part of Diane’s story. It’s fully furnished with everything from tampons to Rice a Roni, but we’ve also set up a bank account and a debit card in case you need to buy anything. Once you identify Mila, call me. You should try to get as close to her as possible, and ultimately the goal is to confirm that she’s being held against her will. Then we’ll raid the club and get you both out of there. What questions do you have?”

Scully stares out the window at the cars rushing by. The pink sunrise illuminating the clouds on the horizon makes the sky look pinstriped.

“Why weren’t you asked to go undercover, if this is your case? You’re young, you’re very pretty. So I guess my question is why not you?” She recognizes the irritation in her voice, but she can’t help herself.

Agent Wiley glances over at her and back to the road a few times. “I can understand why you’d ask that. And I also realize that I haven’t thanked you for taking this assignment. It was a hard one to staff.”

Scully scoffs and turns to face the other woman. “I wasn’t given a choice, Agent Wiley.”

“Right. Sorry. Um, the reason I couldn’t take this assignment is that I have an ostomy bag, as a result of a pretty severe case of Crohn’s. I doubt anyone wants to see a stripper with a bag of poop strapped to her belly dancing around on stage.”

Scully closes her eyes against the shame that wells in her gut. “I’m sorry, Agent Wiley. That was rude of me to ask.”

“Don’t worry about it, Agent Scully. Honestly, I’d take my ostomy bag over this assignment any day. I don’t envy you.”

Scully turns back to the window, spinning up the life story of Diane Sellers as they drive on through the early morning light and towards her uncertain future.

Agent Wiley drops her off around the corner from her apartment with nothing but a set of keys and verbal instructions for where she can locate the burner phone. Her interview is today at 2, and the address of the club and interview information are on a slip of paper on the kitchen counter. They bid one another an awkward goodbye, and Scully goes in search of her home for the next several weeks.

The apartment is small, a studio, and fully furnished. She can tell that Agent Wiley herself took care of decorating it; youthful touches like a sequined throw pillow and a magnet on the fridge with “Diane” printed on a tiny license plate give it a dorm-like feel. Many of the items appeared to have been thrifted, which will be important to keeping up her ruse of being a woman in a tight spot financially. She locates the air duct and the burner phone, turning it on to be sure it works before securing it back in its hiding place. She pokes around the various cabinets and cupboards to find all kinds of dried goods and snacks, and is surprised by the 6 pack of beer in the fridge and the bottle of vodka in the freezer. The closet is full of clothing in her size, some of it basic jeans and tees, some of it tube tops and daisy duke shorts that she would never wear. Well, Scully would never wear them, but she suspects Diane would. The slip of paper on the counter reads:

Damsels in Dominance

1634 W York St, Philly

Ricky Dean, 2pm

She makes a face at the name and her stomach turns at the thought that this might be some kind of S&M club. It's just after 9am, so she has quite a bit of time to kill before her interview. She doesn’t think she’ll be able to sleep, so instead she takes a thorough inventory of all the cabinets and closets to see if anything important is missing. In the bathroom, she opens the medicine cabinet to find a full Oil of Olay skin care line right next to a box of condoms. What the hell does Agent Wiley think she has planned for this assignment? Her confusion deepens when she pulls open the drawer of the bedside table and is greeted by a book light as well as a small bullet vibrator. Either Agent Wiley went to very great lengths to make sure this apartment would pass the sniff test for anyone who decided to snoop, or….she doesn’t even know what the other possibility is. Adding some paperback novels to her mental shopping list, she slams the drawer shut and flops down on the bed. Mulder is at work by now, and she wonders how long Skinner will be able to keep up the ruse. Knowing Mulder, not all that long.

Mulder arrives at work just past 8, noting that Scully’s car is parked in her typical spot in the garage; she must have needed to stop by before heading to Quantico. He’s a little bit disappointed that she’ll be away for the next few weeks; the basement office is exceedingly boring without her. At the same time, he’s grateful for a bit of space to think.

The tension between them had reached a tipping point but now sits suspended, teetering between coworkers and friends or whatever lay on the other side. He’s made some attempts at pushing things towards the “more than friends” end of the spectrum, but nothing seems to come of it. He kissed her, and while she kissed him back and seemed receptive to it, she hasn’t initiated anything further. The night they played baseball together was fun and flirtatious, but again nothing happened. He’s getting the sense that any move will need to be made by him. Maybe Scully just isn’t the forward type in these situations, or maybe she isn’t confident enough that he’ll reciprocate. This time that she’s working away from the office might be the perfect opportunity to take her out on a real date, knowing that if things get weird they won’t have to face each other in the morning.

Entering the office, he doesn’t find her there; they must have just missed each other. He logs into his email and opens a new message.

Hey G-woman,

What time can you get away for lunch today? I was thinking about checking out that new sushi place on 8th. Or we can meet halfway, whatever works.

Would you like to get dinner sometime this week? My treat. Let me know.

Mulder

He hits send, then digs in to some more case reports that he needs to complete. He has a vision of Scully returning to find them completely caught up on paperwork and how pleased she’d be with him, and decides then and there to make it a reality. While he’s not generally an approval-seeking kind of guy, the surprised smile on Scully’s face when he does something uncharacteristically responsible is one of his favorites. The number one spot will always, of course, be held by the smile she gives him when he says or does something that truly strikes her as funny. He finds it hard to keep from smiling just thinking about it.

Two hours later, there’s no response from Scully. That’s a little bit weird, but not exceedingly so; if she’s working on a particularly gnarly autopsy it can take quite a while. When he still hasn’t gotten a response by noon, he first checks his sent email to be sure it went out, then picks up his office phone.

“Autopsy bay, this is Richard.”

“Hey, Rich, this is Agent Mulder up at the Hoover Building.”

“Hi, Agent Mulder, how can I help you?”

“Is Agent Scully around? I was hoping to talk to her.”

“No, I haven’t seen her.”

“Not at all today?”

“No, I haven’t seen her in a few weeks, actually.”

A flush of worry spreads across his chest.

“Hey, Rich, are you guys pretty busy down there? I hear you have a big case you’re working on.”

“Busy? Uh, no, not really. Just business as usual.”

“Okay, thanks. If you see Agent Scully, will you ask her to call me?”

“Sure, will do, Agent Mulder.”

“I appreciate it, bye.”

He sets the phone down and sits back in his chair. Did Scully lie to him? And if so, why? Her car is here, so he knows she came in today. Picking up the phone again he tries her cell, which goes straight to voicemail. The darkest part of his brain worries that she came to the office but never made it to Quantico. He makes one final phone call.

“Skinner.”

“Hi, sir, this is Agent Mulder.”

“How can I help you, Agent Mulder?”

“Have you heard from Agent Scully today? I’m having a hard time getting in touch with her.”

“She’s assigned to work at Quantico for the next few weeks, Agent Mulder, she wasn’t expected to report to the Hoover Building today.”

“I know, sir, but her car was in the garage when I got here and I just called over to Quantico and they haven’t seen her today. I’m a little worried.”

He hears Skinner mutter what sounds like “Jesus H Christ” under his breath before he speaks again. “Agent Scully is fine, Agent Mulder. She’s on assignment. I encourage you to focus on your own assignment.”

Mulder hesitates. “Should I take that to mean that she’s NOT assigned to Quantico?”

Skinner sighs. “All you need to know is that she is fine, but unreachable. You worry about yourself and let me worry about Agent Scully, got it?”

“Um, okay. Thank you, sir.”

He hangs up the phone even more confused than before. Scully’s behavior yesterday after she returned from Skinner’s office makes a little more sense; she was uncomfortable about lying to him. When he leaves the office that night, her car is in the same spot it had been that morning. He doesn’t like this, but he knows Scully was in the same situation when he was on an undercover assignment and he should just trust her, and Skinner, and wait it out. That’s easier said than done, and he spends his entire evening imagining all the dangerous situations she might be immersed in. Drug cartels, amateur mafias, cults, hackers, the list goes on and on. He can only hope that she’s safe.

Damsels in Dominance is an unassuming building nestled between strip malls and fast food restaurants. The parking lot and entrance are at the back of the building, a fabric-draped chain link fence surrounding it for privacy. Scully pays the cab driver, though now that she realizes how close her apartment is to the place she’ll probably just walk back. After much deliberation, she wound up wearing jeans and a blue T shirt, guessing that it would be out of place to dress up for an interview at a strip club. She pulls the front door open and finds herself in a small foyer with a counter along one wall, a hulking man perched behind it on a stool. Even seated she can tell that he’s very tall, with a broad chest and square shoulders. His neck is nearly nonexistent, thick and disappearing into the rolls under his chin like a tree trunk. His head is shaved bald and his deeply tan skin shows evidence of long ago healed acne scars on his ruddy cheeks. A small gold name tag pinned to his T-shirt reads “Denny.”

“Hi, I’m Diane, I’m here for an interview with Ricky,” she says with a smile. She’s decided that Diane will be the kind of person with an easy smile. The kind of person who makes friends quickly. She channels her sister Melissa, who would talk to anyone and somehow have them sharing details of their childhood trauma within fifteen minutes. If she’s going to get these people talking, she needs to be more like Missy and less like herself.

Denny nods with a grunt and stands, proving himself to be at least six inches taller than Mulder; her head barely reaches his waist. He comes around the counter to push open a second door and holds it for her, motioning her to follow. They enter one end of a long hallway, a door directly in front of them labeled “Enter Here to be Dominated.” They walk down the hall, past some restrooms and several other unmarked doors, until they come to one that says “office.” Denny knocks and a small woman answers.

“Diane, 2 o’clock interview,” Denny says in a flat baritone, then turns and walks away.

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