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lockefanfic · 3 years

Text

Black Silk

Shin Ryujin hated waiting.

“This is so unprofessional,” she says, tapping impatiently on the steering wheel with hands covered in black leather driving gloves. “You would think considering how desperately they wanted the package that they’d be here on time.”

You grin to yourself. People in your line of work weren’t the most upstanding of folk, and you knew from experience that punctuality was relatively low on the list of virtues held in high regard.

“They’ll be here, Ryujin,” you say, turning to her to offer an appeasing smile. “Be patient. Just make sure you’re ready to move once the deal is done.”

Ryujin lets out a sharp, dismissive huff from her nose.

“I’m always ready,” she states, finally stopping her incessant tapping on the steering wheel to cross her arms in frustration, choosing instead to glare at something through the driver’s side window. You’re happy to let her frustration simmer. Ryujin could be beautiful or sexy or cute or some mixture of all three at her whim - but she was downright adorable when she was frustrated.

You are about to tease her further when three sets of headlights appear at the opposite entrance to the large, abandoned plane hangar you were currently parked in.

Ryujin snaps to attention - suddenly alert, senses primed. When the other vehicles come to a stop inside the hangar, she flashes your car’s high beams three times. The first of the three vehicles opposite you flashes its lights three times in return.

“Here we go,” you say as you swing the passenger seat open and make your way out of the car. Ryujin exits the vehicle as well, although she keeps the driver side door open. She meets you at the trunk, which she pops open with a click on her key fob. Inside is a metallic secure container the size of a large briefcase - and an H&K 416c rifle fitted with a large capacity drum magazine.

You grab the package by its handle. Ryujin grabs the short barrelled rifle, discreetly racking the charging handle to chamber a round before keeping it low and behind her to keep it concealed from view. She takes up position behind the reinforced, bulletproof driver side door with one hand resting casually on the window, the other on the rifle’s pistol grip as it rests near the door's hinge.

“Be careful,” she says.

You turn back to her with a reassuring smile, even though her eyes are locked on the three vehicles. Package swinging casually in one hand, you make your way towards the old office table and chair that stood at the midway point between you and the new arrivals.

The occupants of the vehicles file out, and a quick headcount reveals that there are eight of them, all women. It wasn’t hard to see which one was the leader - her bright red leather jacket and fishnet stockings stood out starkly from the dark, subdued business and formal wear of the rest of her crew.

“Sorry we’re late,” she says nonchalantly with a vaguely Californian twang. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“No, not too long,” you answer, as casually as you could manage. You take advantage of the relatively dim lighting inside the hangar to take note of the positions of the other seven members of the crew, running through possible contingency plans in your head. Twenty or so metres behind you, you were sure Ryujin was doing much the same. Even though your brain was running at a million miles a minute, it was important that you at least appear calm and collected.

“You got the goods, I see?” the leader asks with a nod of her head towards the package in your hand.

“Maybe,” you answer, as casually as you are able. “I was told to deliver it to someone codenamed The Queen. Are you her?”

“Maybe. You can call me Tiffany.”

“Nice to meet you, Tiffany. Unfortunately I’d prefer not to give my name - I’m sure you understand. Now we’re all busy people, so how about I give you the package, you pay me my fees, and we each go on our merry little way?”

A sly smile appears on the young woman’s cherry red lips. She regards you for a moment longer before giving Ryujin and your car an appraising glance. With the wave of a hand, she motions one of her minions forward.

“Give him the cash, Yoona.”

A tall, slender woman with beautiful, delicate features steps forward, a metallic briefcase similar in size to yours clasped in one hand. The thick-thock of her high heels sound almost obnoxiously loud in the relative silence of the hangar as she makes her way towards the table.

She places her briefcase onto it with a loud thud, motioning with her head for you to do the same.

There was always a momentary moment of sheer dread when it came to making the exchange. If things were going to go sideways, it would be now. Your fingers squeeze the handle of the package a little tighter. Your heart beats a little quicker. A bead of sweat drips down the side of your head, and you are happy that the dim lighting doesn’t betray your anxiety to your business partners.

Thankfully, the pale, beautiful girl in front of you shows none of the warning signs that you’d seen in other exchanges. There is a no-nonsense resting bitch face on her otherwise pretty features - absentmindedly, you wonder for a moment what she would look like if she smiled.

You place the package onto the table next to the briefcase. She takes it, and sparing not a single moment more, turns and heads back towards her waiting group. Inwardly, you breathe a sigh of relief as you take the briefcase containing your payment off the table before taking a few steps backward toward Ryujin and your waiting car.

Yoona presents the package to one of the shorter members of her group - a soft, cute woman with a shock of short, bright blonde hair. She has opened a laptop on the hood of one of their vehicles, and after opening the package, she hooks it up to whatever was inside before typing furiously into the keyboard.

Throughout it all, Tiffany’s eyes remain locked on you, a slim smile on her dark red lips, as though there were something about the transaction that amused her.

“You don’t care what was inside?”

“Not even a little bit,” you answer. “There are three-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tiffany interrupts, her eyes rolling back in her head disdainfully, as though she’d heard what you were about to say a million times before. “Never change the deal, no names, and never look in the package. You couriers are all the same.”

“I’m glad we’ve made such a positive impression,” you answer with a hint of sarcasm. You rest a hand as casually as you could on the old swivel chair next to the desk - ready to reach for the pistol Ryujin had duct-taped to its underside should shit hit the fan.

“And you’re not gonna check the briefcase? It could be full of Monopoly money, for all you know.”

“I trust you. And if you screw me over, well, I’ll know where to find you in order to rectify the situation.”

A smirk appears on Tiffany’s lips at your thinly veiled threat, but the sense of amusement on her face doesn’t fade in the slightest.

“You have balls. You and your partner,” she says with a nod behind you, towards Ryujin.

Not wanting to engage any further and prolong the transaction, you settle for giving her a shrug and a smile. For a few long, uncomfortable seconds, the soft typing of the girl at the keyboard is the only sound filling the otherwise quiet hangar.

“Is it legit, Sunny?” Tiffany eventually asks, breaking the uneasy silence.

“It’s legit,” the short girl answers, packing up her laptop and the package. Tiffany gives you one last smirk.

“Alright then,” she begins. “I think we’re done here. Let’s go-”

Tiffany is interrupted when a third member of her crew, a short, slender woman in a black dress, emerges from the rear of their crew to whisper something into her ear. The sarcastic smirk that seemed permanently affixed to Tiffany’s face widens.

“It’s your lucky day, Mr. Courier. It seems our boss has arranged for a bonus for you - a reward for having transported the package to us so safely and… promptly.”

This wasn’t good - anything that changed the terms of the deal was never a good sign, even if it was labelled as a bonus. Your mind runs at a million miles a second. Your hand tightens a little more around the briefcase, while the other one inches slowly towards the hidden pistol under the chair.

“Is that so?” you answer, as casually and nonchalantly as you could manage. You had to stall for time while you came up with a plan to escape whatever it was that was about to sent your way. “I didn’t know someone called The Queen could even have a boss.”

“We all have bosses,” Tiffany replies, with a matter-of-fact sigh. “Anyway, I think you’ll want some privacy while you indulge in this particular... bonus. Perhaps you can ask your driver over there to give you some space.”

She makes a twirling motion in the air with her finger, and the members of her crew all re-enter their vehicles - all except the woman in the black dress. Tiffany is the last to board, turning around to shoot you one last smile.

“Toodles,” she says with a casual wave. “Oh, and do enjoy.”

The three vehicles quickly back up from the hangar, seemingly leaving the girl in the black dress behind. Once you are satisfied that they are a safe distance away, you turn to Ryujin and give her a nod.

“Are you sure about this?” she asks.

You nod to her again, giving her a smile of reassurance that only half-satisfies her. Shooting you an uneasy frown, she gets into your vehicle, closes the door, and after starting the car, backs it up until she leaves via the same entrance you arrived in.

Alone now with the girl in the black dress, you give her an appraising look from head to toe. She was slender, short, the black silk of her dress wrapping tightly around her small frame and showing off the soft curves and slim lines beneath it. Wavy black hair frames a face filled with soft and youthful features, making placing her age a difficult proposition.

“So what’s this bonus your boss has for me?” you ask, as nonchalantly as you could.

A slim smile appears on the girl’s lips. There is a mysteriousness about her, a strangeness that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. She wore it like a dress, as much of her clothing as the black silk draped around her small frame.

“I think you know what it is,” she answers, her first words calm and measured, “...it’s me.”

The girl steps closer to you, and your body tenses at her proximity - although the allure of her deep, dark eyes keeps you from answering the alarm bells ringing in your head. A pale, slender hand reaches out to the briefcase of cash in your hand, her fingers wrapping themselves around its handle before taking it from your grasp and placing it delicately onto the ground. The ease at which she’d divested you of your hard-earned fees surprised and frightened you in equal measure.

Her fingers play with the front flap of your blazer, her long, slim fingers tracing lazy patterns on your chest.

“I’m not quite sure I follow, Miss-”

“Taeyeon,” she answers, firmly and confidently. “Kim Taeyeon.” Names weren’t always freely exchanged in your line of work, and her willingness to divulge hers, even if it was a pseudonym, spoke of her complete confidence. Her finger suddenly ceases playing with your chest to slowly trace a path down towards your waist.

“Taeyeon,” you repeat. “Anyway, as thankful as I am for your boss’s generosity, I…”

Your sentence dies in your mouth as Taeyeon’s finger reaches your waist. Her other hand joins it, quickly undoing your belt, and soon after the button and zipper to your jeans. Her fingers hook into the waistline of your boxers before she gives them a gentle tug, pulling them and your jeans down halfway your thighs - and freeing your quickly hardening cock.

Throughout the entire process of undressing you her eyes have not left yours. There is a playful confidence there. Hers was the look of a woman who knew exactly who she was and what she was doing - while enjoying every second of it. Every alarm and alert in your brain was telling you to stop her from going any further, but there is something in her eyes that keeps you from paying heed to your brain’s warnings.

“Miss Kim, this really isn’t necessary,” you say, although the words lack conviction. “I don’t really want-”

Taeyeon’s slim, pale fingers wrap themselves around your shaft for the first time - and your final words of resistance die in your throat. The sly smile on the girl’s lips widens. Her fingers begin to pump up and down your length softly, every stroke sending sweet little shocks of pleasure up your spine as your cock quickly comes to full stiffness.

“Really?” she asks, with exaggerated incredulousness. “What’s the matter, too much of a gentleman to fuck a girl that’s been bought and paid for?”

“I… I, uh, I don’t usually fuck-”

“...whores?” Taeyeon snaps, although the sly smile on her lips carries no hint of condescension. The word leaves her lips without any sense of hesitation or judgement, as though she were asking you a simple, obvious question.

“I, no, Taeyeon, I meant-”

“Don’t worry about it,” she answers, her eyes temporarily leaving yours to look down on your cock, which she has continued to pump and up down with a closed fist. “I know what I am. And I won’t judge you for not wanting to fuck me… although your friend here begs to differ.”

“My friend has a habit of getting me into trouble,” you answer with a smirk.

“Does it?” she answers, her tone playful. She breaks eye contact with you to glance down at your shaft again, now leaking glistening pre-cum over your head. She licks her lips - and you take it to mean that she liked what she saw.

“Yeah. It always wants to stick around and play when I really should be leaving.”

“Interesting,” Taeyeon answers, fixing her gaze on yours once more. “My mouth does that to me too.”

Eyes not leaving yours, Taeyeon slowly drops to her knees. With one hand on the base of your cock she points it towards her mouth before her small, pink tongue darts out to give it a long, wet lick from base to tip. You shiver with pleasure. Your eyes close involuntarily, and it takes more effort than you cared to admit to force them open once more so you could watch as Taeyeon reaches the tip of your cock, swirling her pink tip around your head, slathering it with saliva and milky pre-cum.

The sly, devilish smile on her lips widens. Those eyes had never left yours, drinking in the pleasure she was conjuring in your body like it was some fine wine to be tasted and savored.

Satisfied that you were bound now to her whim, a slave to her thrall, she takes you into her mouth.

Your attempts to keep your eyes open fail almost immediately, your lids shutting over thankful eyes as those first delicious sparks of pleasure begin to radiate from your shaft, travelling up your spine and into an overwhelmed brain. Your mind had been running a million miles a minute over the past hour or so - and to go so rapidly from being tense and on-edge to an unforeseen but not unwelcome windfall of pleasure was a little more than it could handle.

Nonetheless you do your best to savor it, savor every second as the young woman on her knees in front of you takes your hard, stiff cock in and out of her hot, wet mouth, perfect pink lips closed tightly around its length, lathering it with a slick sheen of her spit and your pre-cum. Your left hand reaches out under its own volition, resting on the side of Taeyeon’s head as it bobs up and down on your shaft, your fingers slowly drifting down to cup her chin.

She looks up at you again - soft, innocent eyes that held a glimmer of something devious in their corners, as though she were only barely repressing something else behind the cloak of confidence she wore around her.

Your hips begin to move in time with Taeyeon’s movements on your cock, shoving your length even deeper and faster into her wanton mouth. The girl welcomes it, encourages it by bracing her hands on the sides of your hips, fingers digging into your thighs and pulling them back towards her.

Your other hand joins your left, cradling the back of her head, taking your liberties with her face as it continues to suck tightly on every inch of your cock with every entrance and exit of it between her tightly pursed lips. Soon she has ceased moving her head, letting you truly fuck her face, thrusting in and out of her wet mouth at your own pace. Her eyes remain locked on yours the whole time, her gaze never wavering, that look of fulfilled lust never diminishing - only strengthening with every thrust you made into her face.

Your eyes close involuntarily once again, a sigh of wordless pleasure leaving your throat as your head tilts back and you take a moment to savor the sensations flowing outward from your crotch. Only a few minutes ago you were so tense, so anxious and fearful about the possibility of a deal gone wrong; and your weary brain had no capacity left to fight the orgasm quickly building in your loins. Your peak nears after only a few minutes - quicker than you would have liked, but you were too lost, too drunk in the tight wetness of the woman’s mouth to give a damn about it.

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” you hiss. Taeyeon’s only response is to slip her hands from your hips to the cheeks of your ass, pulling you against her mouth, strengthening each thrust between her lips, removing any thought of pulling your cock out of her wet cavern. She lets out a wet gurgle that could have been acceptance, or permission - not that it mattered, when her swirling tongue and the tight grip on your butt told you all you needed to know.

It only takes you a few moments more before you let your orgasm overtake you, the stress and anxiety of the past hour or so finding release in thick, white semen that spurts wetly from your tip and into the back of Kim Taeyeon’s needy throat. Her throat works as fast as it can, gulping down and swallowing every rope that fills her small mouth. Her eyes remain locked on yours the whole time, even as they water slightly, even as they flinch with each spurt of semen you leave in her throat.

As your orgasm begins to subside you give her mouth a few more thrusts, grunting with each one, your body possessed of a temporary but undeniable need to watch her choke on your cum. And she does so, a wet cough leaving her mouth as the tip of your shaft hits the back of her mouth and temporarily cuts off her air supply.

You are suddenly ashamed, and afraid that you’d hurt her. But when your spent cock finally slips out of her mouth and she lets out a wet gurgle, allowing a spill of her spit and your cum to drip from the corners of her lips, the lust in the gaze that she fixes upon you is undiminished. In fact, it is only deepened, as though the taste of your cum and the roughness with which you’d given it to her had only heightened her need for more.

She rises from her knees, a slender hand with slender fingers wiping the wetness from her messy chin before bringing the slick mess to her mouth for her wet, semen-glazed tongue to lick off. Eyes never once leaving yours, she takes a few steps backwards towards the waiting office table, her black high heels echoing oddly loudly in the hangar.

The young woman leans her butt on the edge of the table before reaching up with hands and pulling the straps of her black dress down, revealing her small, round breasts and the tight, taut nipples atop each one.

She bends over at the waist to grasp the hem of her knee-length dress, giving you a generous view of her hanging breasts as she does so. Her slim fingers grasp its edge before pulling it up her body, revealing the pale, creamy skin of her thighs and the slick wet lips between them. She only stops when the dress is a mere slash of silk around her waist, more like a fancy belt than a dress.

There is no slow undressing, no teasing, seductive dance. Only a stripping of unnecessary obstacles that stood in the way between her and needs that needed to be satiated.

“Come take what’s yours,” she says, her eyes half-lidded now, every syllable of the words leaving her mouth dripping with desire.

Your body moves of its own volition, driven solely by the need to claim the reward offered to you. When you reach her your lips crash into hers in a frenzied kiss that had little passion but plenty of lust - tongues quickly find and explored mouths, teeth, and lips; hands explore shoulders, breasts, and backs; legs press torsos against torsos, hers wrapping quickly around your waist as you pick her up and deposit her upon the desk.

You tear your lips from hers - which proved more difficult than you cared to admit, the soft sweetness of her lips like a delicious dessert that was almost too decadent to finish. Your mouth moves to her neck, to her soft, round breasts and her tight, stiff nipples, latching onto the small buds with hungry lips before sucking deeply - savoring each inch of her pale, creamy skin, devouring the young woman’s body like a starving man indulging in an unexpected feast.

Taeyeon moans and sighs and gasps with every movement of your mouth and lips, every suck on her tight nipples. Her hand finds its way onto the back of your scalp, pressing you against her needy breasts, pulling you by the hair from one needy mound to the other, ensuring both of her tight, stiff peaks received the attention she needed. After a while she rips your mouth from her saliva-soaked breasts, and with a wicked glint in her eye, she pushes you down between her legs.

You go to your knees willingly, taking only a moment to drink in the sight of Taeyeon’s wet, glistening lips before diving in, indulging and feasting on her wet, slick flesh with the same hunger and need you showed to her breasts. The girl’s gasps turn into heavy moans as your tongue swipes up and down her tender lips, drinking in her taste and her juices like her body was a newly opened fruit, lapping her up, licking every drop, gorging yourself on her sweet, tender flesh.

“Oh, fuck,” she gasps, just the beginning of a long string of profanity and filth that begins to leave her mouth - not that you could hear most of it, as she quickly closes her warm, flushed thighs around your head, trapping you against her crotch, forcing you to finish a meal you were going to devour anyway.

Her pussy is as delicious a meal as you could have ever wanted, but you want to heighten it for her, ensure that she was being fed as much as you. And so you latch your lips around the tender, taut bud at the top of her opening before devoting tender licks of your needy tongue upon it. As her moans rise in volume and need, your fingers find her slick opening and slip inside it, building to and maintaining a steady rhythm as you thrust them in and out of her folds.

It doesn’t take long for your actions to achieve the desired effect - soon she is a writhing, squirming mess atop the desk, the wordless gasps and occasional hissed profanity muffled by the thighs pressed tightly against your ears as she wraps her legs around your head. Her fingers dig almost painfully into the back of your scalp, pressing your head against her flesh and making it difficult to breathe.

But oxygen was a secondary concern. The wet, slick, hot flesh of the woman beneath your tongue was all that mattered. You slurp up her juices onto a thirsty tongue, savoring her bittersweet taste on your palette, before returning your lips back onto her needy clit and resuming swiping at it with firm, steady strokes.

When she orgasms she fills your mouth with even more of her delicious juices, her slick wetness flowing freely into your mouth and onto your still-thrusting fingers. She makes a mess of your face and hand. You could not have cared less. When you finally release her quivering bud from your lips and even as your fingers slip out of her satiated pussy, you lap up every drop of her juices you could find - your hunger not at all satiated, not at all satisfied.

You return to her feet to find the same look of need on her eyes. She hops up onto the desk and spreads her legs wantonly, welcoming you between them. Your stiff cock rests on a warm thigh, still streaked with her own juices.

“Fuck me now,” she hisses with a tone that was more of an order than a request.

“Tell me you want this,” you reply, the words leaving your tongue before you knew you were speaking them. There was no doubt in your mind that she did - but you wanted to hear her say it, wanted to hear her admit it. “Tell me how you want me to treat you.”

“Treat me like a fucking whore,” she hisses in reply, eyes dark and needy. “Fuck me like a dirty litlte whore that your boss bought you.”

She spreads her legs wider. Your cock quivers with need. You grip it by the base and place it at her entrance, swirling its head around her needy clit. Her glistening lips lather the head with her slick juices. Her eyes drip with lust, mirroring the slickness of her body.

“If you want to be treated like a whore,” you hiss as you fill her tight, hot pussy for the first time, leaving her breathless, “then you’re going to be fucked like one.”

You begin fucking her, pounding her on the creaking, protesting desk. Not giving a damn about a slow building up of speed, not caring about anything other than driving yourself in and out of the young woman’s wet, slick, hot pussy at a fast and frantic pace. For her part Taeyeon seemed to welcome it, even revel in it - any initial pain and discomfort she felt was quickly overwhelmed by the welcome feeling of being filled again and again by your stiff meat.

She lets out sharp gasps with each wet meeting of your bodies, her sweet little mouth frozen in an open “O” as if each thrust of your cock into her needy pussy drove the air from her lungs. Her right hand involuntarily clenches tightly onto your left shoulder, nails digging so painfully into your skin that she might have drawn blood - not that you would have cared or even noticed. Her body tightens around you. Her pussy pulsates. Her eyes remain locked on yours.

The old desk creaks loudly with each thrust into her body as it protests the rough treatment it is being given. For a moment you fear it would give out and break, sending you both crashing to the floor. Not that you would have given a damn. You would’ve fucked the mewling, quivering young woman right on the dirty, cold floor if you needed to.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck me like that,” Taeyeon hisses, the filthy profanity leaving her mouth at odds with the innocence of her youthful face. “Fuck me! Harder! Fuck me as hard as you want.”

You take her words as a challenge, and to that end you grasp her behind her knees, pulling them from your hips and bending them over her torso until they are hovering just over her shoulders. You fuck her like that for a few minutes, every thrust giving her the full length of your cock from base to tip. You groan at her tightness. She moans at your size.

“Treat me… treat me like the fucking whore I am,” she snaps, the vulgarity of her words momentarily stealing your attention away from the tightness of her body. “Choke me. Slap me. Hurt me!”

You normally weren’t one to indulge in such kinks aside from relatively tame hair pulling or ass slapping, and so her demands for rougher treatment surprise you somewhat. But there was something in Kim Taeyeon that enticed you in a way other women didn’t - perhaps it was her youthful appearance, perhaps it was the fact that she was so confident and demanding about what she wanted. Perhaps it was that she knew who and what she was, and she revelled in it, enjoyed every moment of what she was hired to do.

Your hand moves - again, almost of its own volition - to grasp a bouncing, soft breast, squeezing it none-too-gently, enjoying the feel of her warm flesh in your hand and the stiffness of the nipple poking into your palm. Not breaking contact with her milky skin for a moment, your hand travels up her chest, until it closes tightly around her thin, pale throat.

A wicked smile appears at the corners of her mouth as your fingers close around her windpipe, as though she were happy to see you give in to her desires. You grunt as you pump harder into her body, feeling more and more of your self-control erode with every thrust. Her moans rise in volume until they become shrieks.

And then she slaps you hard on the cheek with an open hand.

“You fuck like a pussy,” she snaps, the words dulled somewhat by the hand clasped around her throat. You stop thrusting into her for a second. Her words sting - your pride hurt as much as the side of your reddened cheek; in your mouth you can taste the coppery twang of blood. Your fingers tighten somewhat around her neck, as though wanting to exact some measure of revenge for the pain she has inflicted.

Never in your life had you hit a woman before. But before you know it your free hand has reached up and slapped Taeyeon across the cheek.

You expect a look of pained shock to appear on her flushed cheeks.

Instead there is only a wicked smile, as though she were proud of having made you do something you never would have done otherwise. Her hand moves to slap you in return, but you catch her by the wrist, and pin her hand down onto the table. With one hand still around her throat and the other holding down her struggling wrist, you resume fucking the helpless young woman atop the desk. You are afraid for a moment that she would slap you with her free hand, but instead it reaches up to your skull, fingers digging deeply into your skin. Soon you feel a warm liquid in your scalp, and you know she has drawn blood from you for the second time.

You are in a frenzy now, your cock slamming in and out of her body with a reckless abandon, using the young woman’s pussy like it were a toy, and object to be used for your pleasure. The pain you have caused each other only heightens each sensation, focuses it and makes it more pure, more intense.

Taeyeon not only allows it but welcomes it, if the look of sheer bliss on her face and the continued tightening and pulsating of her wet, slick tunnel is anything to go by. She squirms and quivers and writhes atop the desk, fingers digging ever deeper into your increasingly painful scalp - but your hands at her throat and wrist keep her pinned down onto it as your cock continues to nail her onto it like some obscene piece of art.

“Fuck!” she moans inbetween wordless gasps of pleasure, “Fuck, yes, own me, use me like this- fuck me like the little whore I am, fuck me like your little whore!”

Satisfied that you’d broken her, you release her throat and wrist - and she lets out a whimper of disappointment as you do so. But the whimper is soon replaced by a wicked sigh as you grasp her by the hips and pull her off the desk, before turning her around and pushing her roughly back onto it with a hand in the middle of her back.

No teasing, no build up or prelude. As soon as you are able you grasp the base of your cock with your right hand, line it up with her dripping opening, and then you are fucking Kim Taeyeon again, this time from behind, with her small, tight little body bent over the creaking desk.

“Oh, fuck!” she gasps, “Fuck, you’re so big like this, fuck, you’re so big you’re stretching me out you’re filling me so much oh fuck, oh fuck oh I’m gonna, I’m close, I’m gonna-”

The string of profanity leaving her mouth is cut short abruptly when your hand grasps the back of her head - and slams it down onto the table.

“Shut up and just take my dick, Taeyeon,” you hiss as you continue to fuck her roughly into the table. “Take it like a good little whore.”

Your words, and your implicit surrender to the darker needs, seem to push her over the edge. Her pussy pulsates and quivers and tightens so much around your cock that it drives you dizzy with pleasure. Her limbs shake so violently with her orgasm that you fear she would have fallen from the table had she not been pinned to it by your hands at her head and shoulder.

Throughout it all you are fucking her into the desk, relishing in the feel of her orgasming pussy wrapped tightly around your cock with each entry and exit. Your hand tightens around her skull, your teeth gritting with effort as the pleasure builds in your loins, making you feel light headed and dizzy.

“Beg for it, Taeyeon,” you spit. Your pace quickens as you reach your peak, hammering hard and fast into her pussy. “Fucking beg for my cum. Beg me to cum in you. Beg for it like a good little slut. Like a good little whore.”

“Cum in me already,” she manages to say, turning her head enough to hiss at you despite your hand still pushing her onto the table. “Fucking cum inside your dirty little whore! Fill my dirty little pussy with cum!”

Just as your words broke her, hers break you - and you bury yourself as deeply as you can inside Kim Taeyeon’s wet, hot body before you finally orgasm. Your cock pulsates as it sends thick, white cum into her pussy, your entire body jerking involuntarily with each spurt. Taeyeon moans deeply with each rope of semen that fills her, her pussy squeezing tightly around your spurting cock, welcoming each and every drop of your seed.

You keep her pressed onto the table throughout the length of your orgasm, your hands at her skull and her shoulder not loosening until your strength finally gives out with the last few ropes of cum that you manage to force from your spent, tired cock. Finally releasing her, you lean over the young woman’s body on the desk, breathing heavily, suddenly exhausted.

After a few more seconds trying to catch your breath, you eventually straighten up, enjoying one last glance at Taeyeon’s body bent over the desk, her round, full ass still pressed against your crotch. Giving her a soft smack on the ass cheek, you grasp her hips as you slowly draw your spent cock out of her body, enjoying the sight of glistening cum that quickly appears from her well-used pussy. It flows wetly down her thighs and onto the floor in thick drops, forming a small puddle between her still shaky legs.

You expect her to say something filthy, something vulgar about the mess you’d made of her body. But to your surprise she says nothing as she bites her lip slightly, shooting you a sensual, wicked smile from over her shoulder.

You begin to tuck yourself back into your pants, and she does the same, adjusting her wrinkled black dress as best she could around her body, it having been twisted around by your frenzied movements.

For a split second, just before she pulls it back down over her hips, you catch a glimpse of a tattoo at the small of her back - one that had been covered by the dress while you were fucking.

It is the outline of a chess piece - a queen.

As if on cue, one of the black vehicles her crew arrived in pulls into the hangar. You are momentarily alarmed, but there is nothing in Taeyeon’s movements that suggests you are in any sort of danger, so you do nothing but watch as it pulls up next to the both of you. Out of the passenger side hops Tiffany, who quickly moves to open the rear door for Taeyeon. There is no trace of the confident, brash persona the Californian had displayed not even an hour ago - she seemed more like an obedient servant now, eager to please her superior.

Taeyeon shoots you a sweet smile, her secret identity having been revealed.

You want to say something, something clever or witty in response to the little charade that you had just walked into and played an unknowing part in.

“I hope I can call on your services again in the near future,” Taeyeon says - in a formal British accent.

Unexpected accent shift aside, her tone was clear and confident, showing no hint of the rough, wanton woman she’d been just a few moments before. There is a grace and elegance around her now - were you to ignore the wrinkled dress and slightly frazzled hair she would not have looked out of place at a fancy cocktail party. With her perfect posture and confident smile, she seemed, suddenly, more like the royalty suggested by her codename.

“I hope you do,” you answer, unable to really come up with anything else to say.

Shooting you one last smile upon soft, perfect lips, Taeyeon steps into the waiting vehicle. Tiffany closes the door behind her and hops back into the passenger seat before it speeds away, leaving you alone and speechless.

---

When you approach Ryujin’s vehicle the driver’s side window is open, a lazy trail of smoke is rising from it.

Inside, the young woman is lazily cradling a cigarette in one hand, taking a long drag from it as you open the door and sit in the passenger seat. From her undone button, lowered zipper of her pants, and her wrinkled shirt it was obvious what she was up to while you were with Taeyeon.

“It wasn’t fair that only you got that bonus,” she says, answering your unspoken question. “Besides, that hangar isn’t exactly soundproof.”

You smile slyly at her as you place the briefcase with your fees into the backseat. “When we get back to the hotel you’ll get your cut of the money.”

“I better be getting more than just money,” she answers as she tosses her cigarette butt out the window and starts up the car. “I’m charging you an additional fee for making me wait.”

“I can’t wait to pay it,” you say with a smile. Ryujin gives you a sly smile of her own before she puts the car into drive and you both screech away from the hangar.

---

Author’s Note: *preps holy water bath to cleanse himself of that filth*

Been wanting to write Taeyeon (and at least mention SNSD) for a long time, and I finally came up with an interesting scenario for it. The driver was initially going to be Seohyun but I couldn’t resist putting Ryujin in it as a cameo (and maybe as a sequel hook for part 2 lol).

Hope you all enjoyed it. Stay cool and stay safe, fellow sickdirtyfreaks!

#kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #male reader #pov smut #snsd smut #girls generation smut #taeyeon #kim taeyeon #girls generation #snsd

458 notes · View notes

raineydays411 · 4 years

Text

Reunions

Bruce Banner x daughter!reader

Summary: You are finally reunited with your father.

Your heart raced as you waited for Loki to return.

Apparently, Thor escaped and took Hulk with him. You were happy that they found a way to leave this damn planet. Or at least get out of the vicinity of the Grandmaster.

But now, the Grandmaster was upset, calling for Loki. Turns out, you’ve come to care for the man, more than you ever thought you would.

So here you are, outside the Grandmasters throne room, ready to step in if needed. You have no idea what you’d do, but you’d step in. That’s when Loki came out. You jogged up to his side, not realizing that he was with someone else.

“Well? Are you alright? What happened?” You ask, looking at his face for answers.

“Darling I am fine. Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He teases, then he turns his attention to the woman next to you.

“What have you done?”

“I don’t answer to you, lackey.”

Loki grabs her arm, “It’s Loki, and you will answer to the Grandmaster.”

“Um hey maybe you shouldn’t”

Then, she pushed his arm off her, the two of them hitting each other resulting in Loki getting punched in the face.

‘Hmmph” The woman says smugly. Annoyed, Loki pulls out a dagger.

“Why would you help my brother escape with that green fool” He asks pointing the blade at her threatingly. She pulls out her own knife.

“I don’t help anyone.” Loki lunges at her, the both of them swiping at each other trying to land a hit. You watch anxiously, debating on whether or not you would step in. That’s when Loki gets her arm pinned, seeing her tattoo.

“You’re a Valkyrie?” he questions, she breaks his hold, but he disarms her. She, however, doesn’t need a weapon as he lands several punches on Loki, managing to throw him to the wall.

“I thought the Valkyrie all dies gruesome deaths.” Loki taunted. It was surprising to hear him speak like this. He has always been so kind to you, you forget how cold his personality could be. He had a way to get under peoples skin, dig into their deepest insecurities.

The Valkyrie knees him in the chest and hold the daggers to his face. “Choose your next words carefully.” She threatens.

That was enough to get you to jump in. You kick the back of her knee, making her loose her stance. Shocked at the sudden assault, her state allowed Loki to move in.

“I’m terribly sorry. It must be a painful memory.” Then he strikes, placing his hand on her forehead. It looks like she was forced into a memory. He face turning grim as she is forced to remember what, you assume to be an awful memory.

She falls to the floor, shocked at what she had seen. Then she recovered. Faster than what Loki expected and pinned him on the ground, promptly knocking him out.

You cringe, that punch looked like it hurt. Suddenly she stands up. Turning her attention on you.

“Hey, I’m no Loki but I’m pretty scrappy.” You say, tense and prepared to fight. She scoffs at your words.

“I’m not going to fight a child. You’ll either come willingly or face the Grandmaster.”

You sigh, gathering your bags. “ Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”

She drags Loki, who is still knocked out and leads you outside the castle.

“We have to hurry before the streets get busy. The Grandmaster has already announced the disappearance of his champion.” She says, walking briskly as you follow along.

“So...you helped Thor escape?” You ask trying to keep up with her.

“More like he tricked me. Like I said before, I don’t help.”

“Then why are you taking Loki? You could’ve just left him.” You inquire.

Valkyrie huffs and turns to you, “ You ask a lot of questions, kid.”

“I’m a curious person.” You respond. You look around, the streets are already filling with people. They all are so diverse. It was different out here, seeing them in green and parading around masks and costumes of the Hulk. On Earth, people feared him. But here, he was...praised.

“I have a question.” Valkyrie says, “How did a Midgardian child end up all the way out here, with this.” She gestures to Loki.

“I was looking for my father.” You say shortly, “Loki saw me panicking and helped me out. We’ve been together ever since.”

“hmm” she hums, “We’re here.”

She leads you into a house, it was green and white, kind of like the other room Thor was imprisoned in.

“You stay here.” She says dropping Loki on a small stool. She tied him with a chain she pulls out from no where. “ I have to go find that idiot.”

Then she leaves you alone with a passed out Loki.

You sigh, taking a seat next to a window. You pull out your phone and start listening to music. You don’t feel like writing so you just stare out the window. You start to song to yourself lowly, already bored of just waiting here.

Then you hear a groan. You turn to look at Loki, who was waking up.

“Y/n? What happened” He asks wincing in pain

“You got knocked the fuck out man.” You tease. “ That Valkyrie lady brought us to her house or something.”

“Are you alright? Did she hurt you” He says struggling with the chains.

“No, just threatened me and made me come with her. I would’ve anyway, I wasn’t going to leave you. Besides, she’s kind of hot.” You say, getting up from where you were sat and grabbed a random bottle that looked like a drink.

Loki looks at you weirdly considering what you just said.

‘Here” you said, holding the bottle to his lips, “ You must be thirsty.”

He drinks from the bottle but spits it out, “Ugh that's alcohol”

You look at him and then the bottle.

“Don’t even think about it.” He warns.

“Aw man.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thor had just made it to the quinjet. He’s relieved to find that the jet still works.

“Welcome, voice activation required.”

He places his hand on the scanner.

“Thor.”

Access denied.

“Thor, Son of Odin.”

Access denied

“God of Thunder’

Access denied

“Strongest Avenger.”

Access denied

“Strongest Avenger” He emphasizes.

Access denied.

Thor grunts in frustration. Trying to rack his brain for any possible passwords or nicknames. He sighs realizing what it must be.

“Damn you Stark. Point Break”

All the lights turn on as the plane is activated.

“Welcome Point Break.”

Thor rolls his eyes and starts working on starting the quinjet.

That’s when the Hulk tears the back open.

“FRIEND STAY” He shouts, making his way inside the plane.

“Hulk no!” Thor shouts, trying to get him to stop wrecking the already damaged ship.

“ STAY!” Hulk shouts stubbornly. Thor starts desperately looking for a way to preserve the ship.

He clicks random buttons, in hopes of a miracle. That's when a video pops up.

“Nice work Big guy” Natasha's voice comes through, “ We don’t know where Ultron's headed but you’re going very high, very fast. We can’t track you...”

Hulk freezes. Then jerks around. He bangs his head against the walls, punches himself in the head.

“NO BANNER.” Hulk shouts.

Thor presses another button. And another video pops up.

“Hi daddy. It’s me.” Your twelve year old voice rings through the jet, “ Tony doesn’t know I’m in here, but I need you to hear this. Come home. Please, I need you. I don’t care if you’re the hulk or anything. I just want my dad…don’t leave me...”

Thor can see emotion in Hulks eyes. He roars, desperate to stay as he is.

“NO BANNER. NO”

He fluctuated between Hulk and Bruce. They both fight to gain control of each other. Till finally he collapses, shrinking down to reveal Bruce Banner, panting in exhaustion.

“Banner?” Thor says carefully, slowly placing a hand on the mans shoulders.

Bruce jumps, not aware of his surroundings. Thor hushes him, attempting to calm him down,

“Shh, shh the suns going down. The suns going down real low”

“Thor?” Bruce says panting.

“Yeah”

“What happened to your hair?”

“Oh some creepy old guy cut it off”

“It looks good.”

“Oh thanks” Thor says smiling.

“Where are we? Where’s Nat? How is she?”

Thor frowns, “Um, she’s good. I assume.”

“What about Sokovia? Did we save the city?” Bruce asks

“Banner, listen, Sokovia, Ultron. All that was four years ago.”

Bruce's heart dropped, “I’ve been the hulk for four years”

Thor winces, “I’m afraid so..”

Bruce looks down at the beads has wearing and takes them off. Then he freezes, “Thor, my daughter. Y/n..is she okay?”

“Of course, oh Banner she’s wonderful. She... she’s waiting for you.” Thor says, not knowing how to tell him that you were on the same planet.

“I have to get home... I” Bruce stands up almost toppling over but Thor catches him.

“Banner there's something you should know...”

Bruce gets up and goes to the hand scanner

“Bruce Banner”

Welcome, Strongest Avenger.

“What?” Thor says offended.

Him and Bruce watch the footage from when he crashed on Sakaar.

Thor sighs knowing that this was going to be hard to explain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sigh, after trying the fifth time to free Loki.

“What the hell are these chains made out of?” You grunt

Loki laughs, “Darling don’t stress yourself. We’ll escape in time.”

You sigh and sit down next to Loki.

“Was that you I heard singing earlier?” He asks, turning his head to face you.

“Oh.. yeah, I do that a lot.” You blush, even though you’re a theater kid, you still get shy when singing in front of people.

“It was lovely.” Loki remarks not meeting your eyes. You smile, knowing not to make a big deal. You’re stomach growls.

“There’s some fruit over there.” Loki says, “ They look about ripe.”

You stand and walk towards the counter of fruit. It was just beyond the view of the door. You help yourself to the fruit. It was weird, like a mix of cantaloupe and a grape. You were about to offer Loki some when you saw him wipe his face of emotion and into an irritated look. Then the door opened.

“Surprise.” Loki said sarcastically. Then you see a can hit him in the forehead.

“Ow.” He says in a monotone.

“Just making sure.” you hear Thor say, walking into the place.

“Hello Bruce.” Loki says.

You freeze, hearing your fathers voice for the first time in four years.

“So, last time I saw you, you were trying to kill everybody. Where are you at these days?’

“It varies from moment to moment.”

You decide to make your presence known. You gulped and over your beating heart said, “ Don’t be such a drama king, you sound like an edgy middle school boy.”

Loki smirks, looking towards you, but before he can say anything Thor cuts him off.

“Y/n! Thank heavens you’re alright” Thor says patting your shoulder.

You smile up at him , avoiding your fathers stare, “Yeah I’m good, Lord of Thunder.”

“Y/n?”

You take a deep breath, the room going quiet.

You slowly turn, facing your father, “Hi daddy...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce can hear his heart beating in his ears. He didn’t recognize you at first. He couldn’t have, the last time he saw you...you were a kid. This tiny little twelve year old that was barely in sixth grade.

But here you are. His daughter, four years older. A teenager. He...He lost four years with you. He practically missed you growing up. Your first period, first day of high school. Here you were, on an other planet, dressed in some weird suit of armor, conversing with a man who tried to enslave Earth like he was an old friend.

“Y/n?” He says in disbelief. You turn to him, slowly. Your face...you..you look just like your mother.

“Hi daddy” You say as your eyes start to water.

“Y/n” He says striding towards you and pulling you into a tight hug, “ Wha-what are you doing here? What are you wearing?”

“I came to look for you.” You respond, your face pressed into his chest. He pulls away, grabbing your face in his hands.

“God...look at you, you...you were just a kid..” He whispers tears filling his eyes. You smile sadly and nod. You really don’t know what to say, you’re relieved to finally see your dad but...it’s kind of awkward with all these people around.

“What is going on?” Valkyrie whispers to Thor as they watch the emotional scene play out.

“Oh, Y/n is Bruce’s daughter who hasn’t seen him for four years.” Thor simply says, “ Is that a dragonfang?!”

Valkyrie rolls her eyes at the topic change, “ sure is”

You roll your eyes, overhearing their conversation.

“ So, you were with Thor this whole time?” Bruce asks confused, “ why didn’t I see you?”

“Um actually I was with Loki..” you answer nervously, peaking over at Loki who looked annoyed to still be tied up.

“Did he kidnap you?” Bruce asks, “Thor, you let my daughter run around with your psychotic brother?!”

“ Hey!” Loki said offended. You giggle, always finding him being insulted amusing. You look at Loki's face, seeing an emotion in his eyes that you can’t place.

“Shh Banner stay calm” Thor says soothingly, “ in my defense I was enslaved and forced to fight.” He shoots a glare at Valkyrie who was drinking. She rolls her eyes and picks up another bottle.

“Can we get back to the plan?” Valkyrie, “ Sakaar and Asgard are as far apart as any two known systems. Our best bet, is a wormhole just outside of city limits. If we refuel on Xandar, and we can be back on Asgard in about...18 months.”

“Nope. We’re going through the big one.” Thor says, pointing at the large wormhole in the sky.

“The Devil’s Anus?”

You snort at the name as your dad’s attention is caught.

“Anus? wait, wait, wait, whose anus?” Bruce says, letting go of you and walking to the two Asgardians.

“For the record, I didn’t know it was called that when I picked it.”

You walk up to Loki, and sit next to him looking out the window.

“That looks like a collapsing neutron star inside of an Eisen-Rosen Bridge.” Bruce says facing the window.

“We need another ship, that one would tear mine to pieces.” Valkyrie says drinking from another bottle.

“She’s right, we’ll need one that can withstand the geodetic strain from the singularity” Thor says.

You make eye contact with Loki, both of you realizing that the Grandmaster has a bunch of ships. You have a silent conversation with him, trying to convince him to do the right thing. Considering that the time you two spent there, he had you steal the access codes to the security systems with his guide.

You look up at the right second to see your dad and Thor fist bump. Kind of awkwardly but its nice to see him get out of his comfort zone.

“There are one of two ships, one of top of the line models and...”

“I don’t mean to impose..” Loki starts, but Valkyrie throws her bottle at him, nearly hitting him but smashing into the wall instead. Loki slightly turns his body to shield you from the glass, even though you were on the other side. You glare at her from where you are sat.

“The fuck...” You start, but see Loki's face telling you to stay quiet.

“The Grandmaster has a great many ships. Y/n here, may have stolen the access codes to his security systems,” He says proudly glancing at you. You blush as the three glance at you. Your father looking at you in confusion.

“And suddenly you’re both overcome with the urge to do the right thing?”

“Heavens no.” “I’m literally just vibing” You both say at the same time.

“We’ve run out of favor with the Grandmaster. In exchange for codes and access to a ship, I’m asking for safe passage, through the Anus. For the both of us.” Loki concludes glaring at you when you laugh at the wording.

“You’re telling us, you can get us a ship without setting the alarms?” Thor asks

“Yes brother, we can.”

“Why don’t we just take the girl? She’s the one who knows the codes.” Valkyrie asks glaring at the both of you.

“Y/n is not going back to that retched place.” Loki states, “We both know those codes, and she stays far away, where its safe.”

“Okay, can we just,” Bruce gestures for the team to meet up, “just a quick fyi. Y/n you too.”

You groan, getting up from your spot as Loki rolls his eyes. You walk over to the

“ I was just talking to him, and he was totally ready to kill any of us.”

“He did try to kill me.” Valkyrie says.

“Yes, me too on many, many occasions.” Thor adds, “ There was this one time when we were children, he transformed himself into a snake, and he knows that I love snakes. So I went to pick up the snake to admire it.” “

no” Bruce whispers

“ And he transformed back into himself and was like ‘blegh its me’ and then he stabbed me. We were eight at the time.”

Bruce looked back at Loki in disbelief, and when you looked at Loki you can see a small smile creep up on his face.

“Well, he’s never tried to kill me.” You chime in, “ He made me some soup thing when I got sick. “

The three adults looked at you in disbelief.

“Sweetheart, he’s murdered people.” Bruce said.

“Okay?? He’s my emotional support murderer. He hugs me when I’m sad.” You say rolling your eyes.

Thor and Valkyrie look at you in confusion.

“That doesn’t sound healthy.” Bruce mutters

“Dad, if Bucky can get a second chance then so can Loki” You say stubbornly leaving the group to sit with Loki.

“Who’s Bucky?”

“Guys, if we’re going to boost a ship we have to draw attention away from the palace.”

“Why not set the beast loose?”

“Shut up” “That's a terrible idea.”

“Hey, why don’t you start a revaluation?” You say.

The adults look at you again in surprise.

“I thought of that “ Thor says.

“Well I said it first.’ You snipe back with a smirk.

“...You’ve spent too much time with Loki.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#bruce banner x daughter!reader #loki x reader #loki x teen!reader #loki imagine #bruce banner imagine #Thor Odinson #thor odison x reader #thor ragnarok #marvel x reader #marvel #PoC representation #loki x poc!reader #valkyrie x reader

801 notes · View notes

worldsover · 3 years

Text

Precipitous ft. Handong

length ✦ 10128

genres ✧ back and better than ever; exhibition; amateur porn makers; road head (and hands and feet); edging; thighjob; anal; bratty ‘mommy’!Handong

✦✧✦✧✦✧

New country air.

New mountain breeze after hiking miles up just to get a kilometer across.

New seafood fragrances at the rural oceanside restaurant, mixing with a salty fog that rolls in past the cool water, tickling your nose and rejuvenating your lungs.

Under one atmosphere comes all kinds of unfamiliar scents when you travel, though at a cost. Along concrete or on the tarmac, travel wears you down one way or another. Pins and needles prick numb legs, eyes grow weary, and even if the pressure is different, stale air stays stale whether you’re in a car or 35,000 feet amongst the clouds.

It’s absolutely not about the journey, it’s the destination.

All the same, you would have taken The Proclaimers lyrics to heart if the Yellow Sea were land, or if much, much bigger issues didn’t force you apart. In the whole scheme of things, you could handle waiting, especially in an era of unprecedented communication. That’s what you told people. No, it doesn’t matter you were on the phone pretty much every other hour with her. Weeks became months that felt like years apart from Handong.

Luckily, she enthusiastically kept you updated to everything. Every delicious food stall she tried out, all the new friends she made, the sights she managed to take in despite the challenges she faced in Wuhan. It was stressful but as a result, there wasn’t much catching up to do when Handong finally did come back. However, there's a certain aura she exudes now that you only barely noticed video chatting with her every night, a gradual progression in her brightness on her unplanned stay there. Of course, you were always madly in love with her, but something about her captivating eyes now as she clasps your free hand while you drive, it makes you feel both overjoyed and protective. If she feels the way you are, she must have a beaming smile underneath that mask too.

That’s why you don’t mind the monotonous queue of cars or the patchy asphalt. Sure, you could be enjoying the fresh and crisp October breeze but the simple sweetness of Handong’s lavender shampoo isn’t just a faint aroma on a hoodie anymore. You have to soak it in. It’s like your senses are wholly renewed. You’re used to the numerous dyes and styles of her hair though it doesn’t stop her bleached locks from distracting you in your peripheral vision with how the crimson fades to pale orange highlights.

Wholesome thoughts of your girlfriend degenerate suddenly at thoughts of earlier today in a public restroom, mixed with a realization that every other phone call was more phone sex than a conversation, mixed with an inspired, self-induced frustration. One you thought worth undergoing since it’s about the destination, right?

Damn. You need to cum really badly.

Careful. Concentrate. The car carries cherished contents.

“You don’t have to hold my hand that tight, I’m not jumping out,” Handong says.

“If you do, I hope you remember to tuck and roll.” You sigh at the stupid comment before she gets to. “You know how I am.”

Squeeze her fingers a bit tighter. The traffic light above turns green and you prepare to turn into the freeway, though the flow is slow today. “Mhm. I figured as much when you spent a whole day in a plane just to visit for a few hours. I do have object permanence.”

“Nah, that trip was for selfish reasons.”

“Hmm?”

“Needed to catch that concert live. Also, I missed you real bad.”

She punches you in the shoulder, probably strong enough to be unsafe if the SUV ahead wasn't so slow. “Dammit, you cornball. Is this trip selfish too?”

“Of course. How else would I spend the couple days I have with you?” you ask, rolling your struck joint in feigned injury.

“Fffooo.” Handong blowing air on your shoulder is more caustic than the hit itself. “All better. Anyway, catching up with practice won’t be that busy. We’ll have time.”

“Not this much.”

Her hand loosens the slightest from yours so that her thumb can circle your palm. Clockwise means “I love you”, counterclockwise means find the nearest spot you can and fuck my brains out. Or was it the other way around? Unfortunately, your spatial awareness is currently engaged in the art of tackling traffic so you couldn’t tell which it is either way; maybe a less ambiguous shape would have been better. Better to err on the side—er, rotation—of caution.

Handong’s already heard your words of affection a hundred times in the past hour alone. “By the way, your dancing's been amazing lately. You’ve been killing it,” you say instead.

“Oh, I see the comments, don’t have to tell me twice. Thank you, though.” Handong kisses your fingers, bringing some heat to your cheeks, before she scoots closer in the passenger seat. Her inflection shifts, highlighting the smokiness in her tone. “It’s all practice for you, baby. You’re so lucky, getting all those free camgirl shows for yourself.”

Counterclockwise then. You’re a bit surprised, considering the counterclockwise activity you did earlier, but to be fair, you haven’t cum on her yet today with how focused you were on her pleasure and you know how much she enjoys your semen on her body. Driving complicates the request as well, but you play along. “Damn right. Remember when we first started dating and I came on your face at the hotel? I still wish I had a picture of that moment. You looked so fucking pretty.”

“Now that I think about it, I wish you took that picture too,” Handong says without hesitation. “To be fair, that was right after a music show. I was really tired.”

“You say that now, but I remember that cute blush on your face. Oh, where did those times go, Dongie.” Let go of her hand and put yours on your forehead in playful yearning.

“Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy how I shake my ass now. Oh right, you can’t, you were jerking your cock like there’s no tomorrow.”

“And I won’t ever apologize for that. Something about your red hair—” Handong takes off her mask, flustering you for a second. It’s being with an idol on the road in public, you’d first claim, even if she wouldn’t be outed for dating some random civilian. However, what actually throws you off balance is her saucy smile and her expression, subtle yet effective in its suggestiveness.

“Oh, I know! It makes me look like an e-girl, right?” Handong sticks her tongue out and does the peace sign gesture with both hands, like she’s posing for a rearview dash cam, then she points to your side, where a semi-trailer propels sluggishly in the next lane over. “You think that truck driver would pay for my OnlyFans?”

This girl. She always had a quiet boldness to her; it’s a bit more overt now. “Tsk. Just stream on Twitch, it’ll be way easier to get simps that way.”

Sneak a glance at the driver—he looks like he’d pay to moderate her chat—before you focus your eyes on the road as you merge into the highway traffic, though the effort is for naught as more and more cars surround you.

“Hopefully, we’ll make it in time for dinner. At least I don’t have to stress as much about dumbass drivers.” Shift attention to your passenger seat. Handong is on her phone, browsing through her couple pictures.

“Look at this.” Handong tilts the bright screen towards you. “I can’t believe how stupid your hair looks here. Jumping on the long mane train before everyone else in the lockdown.”

“Hey now—”

Handong accidentally swipes, and seeing a blurry selfie of her cross-eyed face while you’re in the middle of railing her doggystyle causes you to slam on the brakes instinctively, even though you’re barely going faster than a marathon runner.

“Woah! When’d you take that? And why is that in your public folder?”

“Shit, forgot to move that one. I kinda just glossed over that.”

Grip the wheel. “Yeah, I figured. Doesn’t answer my first question though.”

Handong pinches your ear. “Well, my phone was right by the bed and I wanted to see your face. Then I saw all the sweat on your brows and just how into it you were, I had to save it for later. Of course you wouldn’t remember the picture.”

“Nah, I know you just wanted to look at your own face. Remind me to buy a mirror for the bedroom next time.”

“Mhmm,” Handong says as she types in the notes app, taking your suggestion seriously, a worthwhile purchase if you could see that same lustful expression yourself. Maybe if you go doggystyle again, but this time in her asshole. Not only haven��t you had an orgasm yet—saving up the weeks’ worth of cum for a more special moment than the airport bathroom—you haven’t fucked her anally ever since she returned from Wuhan. That sculpted ass. You’ve only had a taste of it a few times before then, your mouth and your cock living their finest lives exploring her butt, which is why you brought more than enough lube for tonight.

Take a glance at Handong as the car rolls steadily amidst the sea of vehicles. Looks like you aren’t the only one getting riled up in your thoughts, feeling your exceedingly full balls and the tension of your jeans against your crotch. She swipes through an album, this time all filled with explicit pictures: her hands covering her adorable nipples, an imprint on your pants just like the one you have now, strings of girl cum dripping down her thighs.

As she inspects the photos, her arm tucks into her sweater and she lets the sleeve fall, so that her free hand can slip underneath her denim shorts. Considering how obvious the shifting fabric is to anyone watching, Handong probably could’ve just reached between her lush thighs, especially with how short the shorts are. It can’t be safe the way your vision rapidly switches between the car in front of you, waiting to see if they’ve moved yet, and Handong getting heated at the records of your sexual exploits on her phone. Regretfully, you can’t let her distract you. “Noona, please. Can’t this wait until we get to the cabin?”

Handong wets her lips with a lick before biting them, breathing a bit more heavily through her nose. “Babe, look at this.”

“You know I can’t—” She turns up the phone’s volume. Loud moaning noises and grunting intersperse wet slapping and sloppy kissing.

“Damn, I couldn’t stop thinking about this one,” Handong says, her fingers working brisker on her pussy.

“Mommy!” your voice rings from the surprisingly full phone speakers.

The black video turns to yellow lighting. Right, you were just going to record the particularly slick sounds of Handong but you had to see the way she looked in her outfit. As you turn the phone over, you discover Handong’s face writhing while she brings her hips down forcefully. At second look, it isn’t so much an outfit, as it is flowing sheer black silk that drapes from perky chest down to her sinewy midriff, flapping above and below her waist as she fucks herself onto your dick. Handong turns around, never letting your erection leave her body, and she sits between your legs spread upwards in a V shape, your feet on the couch and your cock bending forward as she squats up and back down fluidly.

“Ooh, fuck. You like how mommy’s pussy feels around your cock?” she asks, accepting her new name immediately as she holds her hair, a much more vibrant orange than it is now, in a ponytail.

“Yess, mm-, m-, mommy,” you whimper, the inexorable ricochets of her ass against your crotch clashing with your clamors for her new bedroom name.

Putting the phone in the cupholder muffles but doesn’t completely silence the intense sound of your sex. You reach to turn down the sound but stop when Handong’s fingers trace your shoulders lightly, leaving a sopping trail. After caressing your collarbone, she goes further up tickling your neck and making your head twitch. Her fingers find their target on your lips, preventing your ability to ignore the subtle musk of her wetness.

“Mmm,” she moans as though she tasted a perfectly marbled steak, “Mommy. That really came out of nowhere. You remember how my pussy quivered on your cock when you said that?”

“Come on, we’ve had sex so many times, how would I remember that?” Of course you remember, she was practically choking your erection alive while slamming her ass into it, plus, it was the last time you recorded the two of you having sex before she left Korea. Look ahead. The black Hyundai lurches forward. Depress the accelerator for a second.

“That’s what cameras were made for.” Handong takes the smartphone and pauses the video. Can’t see what she’s doing, but the phone is definitely pointed at you. “For example, I can see that bulge in your pants.”

Click.

If you give in now, she’ll be insatiable for the entire car ride. Besides, it’s not about the journey.

“Play with mommy a bit, please? Look! We’ve only moved a meter.”

Shake your head and Handong sulks into the leather chair. It’s cruel but you love seeing her so animated, knowing that your prodding will get her hot and bothered later. Besides, it’s not about the journey.

“I see how it is. Fine.”

By the time the buildings that pass by grow shorter, with the skyline clearing from reflective glass to a blue backcloth stained white, the traffic subsides and you’re cruising towards your destination. Ordinarily, you both welcome the silence as being comfortable in it is one of the most important parts of your relationship. Neither of you could nor would want to talk for hours straight just to fill dead air. Right now, however, there’s a sizzling static circulating the sedan’s vents that you feel a need to replace with conversation. When you open your mouth, the hairs on the back of your hand raise. It isn’t out of fear or awkwardness. Fear is closer though.

The freedom in the road dies, forcing you to decelerate as traffic accretes yet again. With a relative absence of human establishments other than the occasional gas station, the only explanation would be the bends and bumps as plains give way to tall trees and hilly terrain. Your braking is careful but the Cooper at your heels comes to a screeching halt, reminding you of the stark wordlessness.

“Fucking hell,” you exclaim because of the stupid driver. Clear your throat. “So... any other plans for when we get to the park? There’s that lake nearby, I think they have a boat we could ride.”

Look down for a moment. Her bra is on the car floor. When did that get there? Her gaze doesn’t answer questions of timeframe but it does solve the simple riddle of why it’s there. Handong ties her hair up and signals your Pavlovian response post-haste, the earlier tension against your denim stronger than before. Her hands have a hint of hesitance that she throws away as soon as a graze against your clothed leg elicits an audible shudder from you. Neither your hands nor mouth protest like it should, the former having an excuse on the steering wheel; the latter unhinges to gasp out warm air because of Handong’s clumsy hands that unzip your pants and shove all the safeguards to your dick out of the way. A little adjustment and your erection springs free.

Handong’s fascination with your cock hasn’t changed since your first day together. It’s why she loves taking pictures of it, drooling while she stares at it standing at attention, and tapping it with her fingertips, now a bit moist with spit. Blood races down. The pitter-patters peter until her fingers find rest around the top of your shaft.

Pressure forges diamonds. Literally speaking, it couldn’t be further from the truth—at least in your situation with the softness of her touch unhinging you in how hard it makes your shaft. In the idiomatic sense, Handong’s past verve in finding for mutual pleasure couldn’t prepare you one bit for the way she teases you now, giving the least effective method to bring you closer to your orgasm as she rubs the head of your dick with one finger, then two. It’s easy to forget you're in a machine of death weighed in tons when a woman pleasures you but you're more distracted by her own pleasure as you’ve always been, her eyelashes fluttering, her mouth wide open.

“Please, noona, can we wait?” you say with some residual prudence.

“But I just came up with some new plans,” Handong says, brushing your erection in deft strokes, never fully grasping your length as her fingers run up, down and around the shaft. If not for her impalpable touch, all the motivation your cock needs to stay hard is her moaning as though she was the one being pleasured. “Why do we have to be across the country?”

Finally, her hands squeeze to give you some stimulation and Handong lets out a satisfied breath in kind. At first, just one hand twists—counterclockwise—at the base of your girthy flesh while the other continues to fondle around your tip with delicate digits.

“Why some random park?”

Handong teases your frenulum a final time with her freer hand by pinching before it joins the other hand in converse rotations. The intensity of her handjob ramps up, her manual ministrations turning into the vertical motions, causing you to let out small desperate sounds as you twist your neck with every stroke up and down.

It’s only at occasional glances to the side do you realize just how open you are. You’re really not sure the windows are dark enough for people not to witness the indecent acts in your car.

After the fucking you’ve done today and the braggadocio of your stamina, it’s embarrassing how soon your climax portends when your soft whines turn to louder groans and beads of sweat dripping from your forehead. Handong doesn’t mind the hastiness however, moaning along with you if her indefatigable hands didn’t let you know enough how much she wants your orgasm. Even her legs writhe when all the aching pleasure is yours.

“And why so far? When I can make you cum right. Here.”

And despite her words, the electricity firing in your brain, all the signals in your impossibly hot body ready to permit your release all over the car, Handong lets go. Your cock twitches at the nothingness. Life flashes through your mind. You miss Handong. You want to see her lament on her knees. You love her, you hate her—but more importantly, you love her.

“There we go. That’s it. Mmm.” Her tongue drags across her hands. “Now was there something else you wanted to say to me?”

Your pause is a little too long, as her hands hesitate to touch you again. “N-no? Let me cum please, noona. If you’re not gonna wait, just please, I have to cum so bad, and, and people are gonna see.” Your voice is pitiful in its smallness.

“Hmm. But you asked me to wait earlier.” Her grasp returns, wetter and warmer than before. Handong threatens to leave marks on your car seat with how deep she buries herself into it in empathic passion, and she threatens to somehow mark your cock. It swells, it burgeons, it must have some permanent reminder of her inflaming relief.

“I didn’t mean that, I just—”

“No, no, mmm, no. You haven’t figured it out yet.”

There are no cars around you. There is no azure above, no trees waiting for the cold to arrive yet again. Instead, you see a massive wall of rock imposing your frail human stature. It’s a hundred feet or maybe a thousand. Who cares. You’re unsure as you tiptoe along its fringe. You want to fall. You need to fall. You need the exhilaration, the stomach-churning drop, the rush of terminal velocity crashing onto your body as air fights against your perilous plummet.

One measured misstep is all it takes. Two legs coordinating their clumsiness.

Three throbs.

Handong won’t let you. Her hands won’t allow your failure. She feels the first and holds on to your cock, not letting you fall. The second, and she realizes her mistake, letting go of your shaft, and she watches the third spasm while biting her lips at the bead of semen that dribbles out.

It’s not about the journey, the saying punches you in the spine.

“Always loved this cock you know. Like it was made for my hands.”

“Ahh, f-fuuck. I, I know other parts it was made for. Maybe if we went faster, we could make it to the campsite sooner, see what fits even better.”

“Mmmhmm, baby. As much as I love that idea… You know what. Sure. Just floor it.” It’s amazing how Handong can make a simple glance appear so sarcastic with how she looks at your feet and the traffic around the car. She always knows how to bite.

You sigh in relief when her hands absolve your erection from its discipline. It’s almost painful the way it strains and wants to cum.

She gasps in revelation and you realize your relief is ill-founded. “You always give me such great ideas baby.”

Handong unbuckles her seatbelt, takes off her slippers then brings her feet to your crotch. Her knees rest over your center console, the scent of honey soap replaces her lavender aroma, and the vibrancy of her trimmed red toenails pops out to your eyes. You want to massage it, kiss it, lick on her toes, but any initiative is interpreted as resistance from you as she swats your curious hands away with little kicks. Her big toe flicks at the tip of your dick, toying with the burdening flesh and punishing it for nearly releasing your whole load onto her hands earlier. Handong tries to take your cock’s tip between her toes but it’s too girthy for her, making her visibly peeved.

In consolation, she takes her phone out again, snapping away to find the best lighting for the footjob. Handong doesn’t spend too much time teasing with her feet like she did with her hands, her toes not as nimble as her fingers. At most, the firm balls of her feet press down on your thighs for a moment before they slide around your shaft. Trying to find an angle where she can jerk you off with her feet, Handong leans against the car door and sets the phone back down. She pulls her sweater up to reveal her bare breasts and plays with her hardening nipples, while remaining spit on your cock and a hint of sweat lubricate her feet, your cockhead peeking in and out from between her soles at each thrust.

“Noona, fuck. I have to be honest,” you say between tortured panting, “I haven’t cum yet today.”

“Aww, baby, of course. I knew you could last longer than that at the airport, and I know what your cum feels like inside of me. Fuck, I miss that feeling.”

“Not just that. It’s been weeks, it hurts so much.”

“Really? Even with that video of me fingering my ass and my pussy at the same time,” her words slow down as her hand speeds up, ”while I say your name over and over and over again, even when I squirted on camera and made a mess of myself like a slutty mommy? That might be the most I came on my own. Fuck.”

She slaps her pale pink pussy lips, while sliding her feet back and forth from her toes to her heels and gaining her own pleasure as it massages underneath the balls of her feet.

The ease of effort to get Handong off normally isn’t a source of frustration for you. When you needed a bit more stimulation while fucking her, you could often to turn to the cheat code of fondling her anywhere she’s sensitive, whether it’s by massaging her thighs as you thrust into her prone body, by pulling her long hair and dragging your fingers down to her neck while fucking her on her knees, or by pinching and teasing at her susceptible nipples. Making her cum would give you the gift of her wanton face contorting in pleasure, her fit body working harder to ride you more vigorously, and her pussy clenching even more than usual.

This time however, it almost makes you jealous, listening to Handong’s voice hitch as she reminisces and rubs crude circles around her nipples.

In between occasional pulses of the accelerator and corrective nudges of the wheel, you scrutinize the drivers neighboring you. What are they gonna do, call the police? There’s too much traffic in the way for them to get here, though you’re pretty sure at this point that either no one can see inside or no one cares. As you scan around, focus back on Handong. Her toes curl and her heels connect such that her feet squeeze tightly on your erection. When she moves on from her breasts to reach back down, her eyelids shut tight as well. This time, she pays no mind to hiding her arms, sliding between her thighs as her knees buckle, slipping her shorts and her underwear aside.

An audible slickness from between her legs resounds the car, and Handong opens her eyes in surprise. Her gaze instantly transforms from steeped in gratification to calculated confidence, Handong’s puckish grin and wink at you revealing her knowledge of your complete attention.

Both hands at two and ten. Your feet tense up, and hers do as well. Heavy puffs of air from Handong’s mouth coincide with each glorious thrust of your cock into the smooth arch of her feet, before she turns breathless. Handong keeps up the rhythm in time with the delirious fingering of her pussy, her other hand grasping the ‘oh shit’ handle above her even though there’s no turbulence in the vehicle. Considerably worked up herself, Handong almost doesn’t care how close you are to the precipice, with her soles twisting around your shaft in indulgent pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck, mommy’s going to cum!”

Of course, she’s allowed the privilege to jump, reckless abandon on her clit leading to vocalizations probably audible by adjacent vehicles and her feet losing their tension while still grasping your cock snugly. Her legs are like jelly, dangling over the center console. You’re stuck watching and driving on autopilot as Handong trembles and, even in her remaining throes, still stimulates your cock with her feet giving it a final kneading—only enough to make you walk tighter to the edge of the cliff.

“Fuuck, ngh” Handong moans, wiping the pre-cum from your slit with her toes and admiring your poor erection while she licks up the rest of her juices from her fingers.

Of course, moments after Handong recollects herself, the traffic clears like the universe conspires to trap you on a cliff.

Handong puts her seatbelt back on and rubs your shoulders. “Damn, baby. That was so hot.”

And of course, with your balls in your throat, there’s no way you’d dare to tell her to clean up the wet spot on your seat.

“By the way, can we stop by a rest stop? I saw a sign, there’s one coming up in a few kilometers,” Handong says, cheery as ever.

Exhale. “You know what, I need to go too.”

As you arrive at the parking lot of the stop, you almost forget to put your dick back in your pants like a civilized person.

Looking at her bare hands, her neck that you could easily stain purple, her eyes and nose that take you in greedily, every physical part of her makes you aroused like you’ve never been before. Most maddening of all is watching Handong walk away with a swing in her step, accentuating her perfect thighs and ass covered by meager denim.

You only notice how blatantly the car smells of sex when you exit it. Otherwise, ignore the world around you and rush to the bathroom stall. In any other circumstance, you’d just jerk yourself off because of the dangerous tightness in your balls. If it goes on any longer, you’d have the awful feeling of needing to throw up without actually being able to. You’re an inverted grenade ready to implode. Unfortunately, you can’t end it here. The pin belongs to Handong.

In a bout of hysteria, open your phone and scroll through your own pictures of her. Hundreds of different nudes and videos of you two fucking. There’s an honestly artful one, a miraculous point-of-view photo you managed to take despite her thighs wrapped around your head. You waver on whether or not to drop your trousers right now.

“Handong sent you a picture,” the phone reads from the notification bar. There’s pretty much no question as to what kind of rating a movie would get if the picture she sent were a frame in the film. You’d rather open it later, maybe save it for a rainy day, but you're already scrolling through nudes and the punishment you’d get for ignoring her would be even worse.

Tap on the notification. Either the women's bathroom is definitely brighter than yours or your sense of sight is a bit weaker in your delirium. Handong bends over the sink and you can see the phone leaning on the soap dispenser in the mirror. Her shorts and underwear are around her ankles, leaving nothing to cover her body.

“Fuck me on this sink?” the text says.

Grab some tissues before you leave—it’s for the car seat, not masturbating—then run to the girl’s bathroom, not to fulfill her request, but to look out for her. Before you can enter, watching out for the few people in the rest area, Handong steps out as if nothing happened.

“Whatcha wanna eat?” Handong says. Clench your fist.

“Let’s just get some bibimbap,” you say curtly.

“Sounds good to me!” she says, taking your arm in hers and practically skipping to the small food court.

Scarf down your food, practically inhaling the vegetables and the egg for stamina to keep you going, while Handong eats every grain of rice with care, making a point of going down the chopsticks, sticking her tongue out and sucking on them.

The immensity of your perception of time seems familiar.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Hours pass in the car, and Handong pretends nothing happened. For some reason, the silence isn’t nearly as bad, maybe because it’s interspersed with the many beautiful landscapes of Korea that pass by. You needed that break because your erection is ready to break rocks in twain.

Handong opens the window and takes deep breaths in. “Ahh. It’s been so stuffy in here.”

Have to admit the cool air really does wonders to calm your jitters down. The flow state of driving means that only now do you realize how close you are to your destination, even if the GPS makes it clear exactly how long the drive should take.

Handong takes off her seatbelt again. You’re in no position to teach her about passenger safety.

She bites. Her teeth scrape her bottom lips. When she strips her bottom naked—her big black sweater only slightly hiding her lush pussy from you—her teeth hold in her tongue as she starts touching herself once again. With no care for her unclad state of her ass, Handong leans over to the driver seat. She bites your neck and your ears while her lips plant a kiss an inch away from yours, driving you further away from sanity.

The GPS clearly says to go straight ahead. The scenic route in a hundred meters adds twenty minutes to your travel time. You don’t want to take it. Anything to get to the destination faster, even though you aren’t driving even close to the speed limit, a laziness only acceptable by the lack of cars seen for kilometers. Anything at all for the destination.

Swerve to the right.

Handong smirks. “Now what do I want to hear?”

“You’re so fucking sexy?” you say, between her kisses peppering you and her hands unfastening your pants again.

Handong’s lips and her eyes plead, as she draws in air to puff up her defined cheeks. “Come on baby, you know what mommy wants.”

Breath out from pursed lips. “Mommy, please suck my cock.”

“Almost. Get your phone.”

You scramble for it, knowing exactly what she wants.

“Much better.” Record her smooches right under the head of your dick. They sprinkle you for a little longer than you can handle without moaning audibly on tape, but she finally wraps the poor member with her lips and slowly brings her head down. Each time you glance down, Handong reciprocates the eye contact, deliberate and devilish. In her first tasting, she doesn’t so much glide down your cock as she does kiss, tightening her lips every inch down like she has the measurements of your length memorized.

No, that measurement is ingrained in her brain without a doubt. Entranced by the first time you pulled it out at the hotel, Handong took pictures of your length, “for reference,” she said, which would be true if she could masturbate to an encyclopedia. Six, seven, is that eight? Clearly Handong knows better, a sole gag from her throat as your cock hits the back of her mouth.

On film, your girlfriend becomes less of a seductress and more of a bundle of hair on your lap, long strands swaying as she feasts on your erection. Pan to Handong’s butt sticking out over her own seat. You would grab her thin waist and seat that ass on your cock where it belongs, but the devoted sucking will have to do, swallowing you like there’s an itch at the back of her throat that only the head of your dick can scratch. Every so often, she stops her blowjob to admire your length and slap it against her face, in love with the way it dwarfs her little mouth.

You want to say more about the pace of her sucking, how well she’s doing, how much you want to cum, but all you can produce is the voiced bilabial nasal. The moan of a man marooned on a mountainside, precipitously hanging by a mere thread.

“Mommy,” a word naturally filled with the only sounds your mouth can muster, yet the moniker fits Handong so aptly that you didn’t need to be in squirming pleasure to call her that. The word sounds as good coming from her, even when her mouth seals tight around your erection, with how the consonant perfectly resonates on your throbbing flesh.

Handong pops up from her exquisite deepthroat and blows the phone camera a kiss. “Mmm... Mommy really loves hearing that. Maybe mommy’ll even let you cum. Hmm.”

She isn’t sloppy, practiced in her oral skills and practical—though sexy, saliva on the car floor would be even more cleaning for later—but her spit covers her lips enough to leave the right amount of friction as she slides up and down. A glint on her matte lipstick shines on video, and Handong shows off a little bead in the corner of her mouth.

“Yummy,” she says after she licks the side of her lips.

As soon as she sees your end imminent through your heavy respiration, not once does her oral grip ever really leave your erection, with her occasional breaths exclusively in sharp inhaling through her nose.

The car rolls uphill at a snail’s pace, nearby squirrels outrunning the many horses in your engine. At this point you’re not even driving, one hand barely on the wheel and holding a phone at the same time, the other caressing behind Handong’s ear as though she needed any encouragement to suck your cock.

That hand takes the smartphone back to capture every intense moment as best as you can. Really, you shouldn’t be on your phone at all, though there was probably also a lesson somewhere in driving class that said to reject offers of road head. Instead, you join the rarefied contingent of men in that classroom who not only ignore those instructions, but manage to break every rule of distracted driving at the same time.

Each time you want to cum, you involuntarily start thrusting in sync with Handong’s face lowering, but her hands hold your hips down whenever you get too enthusiastic, her fingers sinking into your thighs. The video is definitely too shaky to use, though the wet noises of her throat are still worth watching over. Even with how intoxicated Handong looks at the taste of your cock, her eyes only half-open as she takes deep whiffs of your smell, she manages to stay methodical in her hold over you.

Handong turns her head to the side, your erection causing her cheek jut out before it slips from her mouth. “Where do you wanna cum, babe? All over my face? Down my throat?”

One choking mouthful of your cock. She sees the park sign and stops.

Your melting brain wishes it were two.

Three seconds away from falling.

“Maybe a head start in my ass? Well, not yet. We’re almost at our cabin and we gotta unpack,” Handong says after giving a final lick all the way from the base of the erection. She confiscates your phone and sends the video to herself.

You arrive at the destination.

This is it. The destination.

The sun is getting lower revealing the pyrotechnic spectacle of dusk and its orange hues. You should take a picture of it.

You hurt. Your cock hurts.

Shuffle out of the car and bring luggage to the small cabin. Handong rummages through the tote bags but you disregard her, fixated on your labor.

There’s no one in sight, but it might just be all the trees, since you can definitely hear the occasional conversation carrying through the forest.

Handong changes her clothes. You don’t make much of a note of it.

“I thought it’d be colder,” she says.

You should respond, mention something about the surprising October weather, maybe about the sun shining for its last hours on this day, or how absurd it is that such a simple outfit could make you want to pin her down and fuck her right outside of the cabin without regard for passersby. Unfortunately, you can’t, your mind lost to the world.

“It's the perfect time to eat dinner but... you don’t seem that hungry,” Handong says. “Are you?”

The first complete syllable you’re able to vocalize. “No.”

“Well then, come with me. Let’s get some firewood.”

She leads you by the hand, following a map she printed to find a little wooden shack in the distance. The campsite store. “Are we getting anything other than—”

Handong puts a finger to your mouth, then makes you sneak around the entrance before she pushes you right against the side of the wooden shack. Sturdy thing. With just the force of the push, you feel less than sturdy, ready to collapse at any touch. She checks around the corner to ensure the two of you aren't too conspicuous.

There’s no need to ask.

Suddenly, everything happens. Her head perfectly cradles your neck and Handong licks at it like a kitten. She unzips and unfastens you with the only warning being her own rapid undress of her leggings, and with as little warning, thick thighs choke your cock to oblivion. Handong pecks while she slides your shaft to and fro, only a string of her spit between your bodies lubricating your spent dick, and you use all determination in keeping your voice down.

“Mommy please, let me thrust now,” you whisper into her ear. Look below and her panties are ruined with her juices.

Handong looks up at you with pleading eyes. “Aww baby, you wanna cum that bad for mommy, don’t you?”

Her hips shove into your cock and the heat from her pussy makes you wish she’d just concede, that she’s had enough of her fun for the day. No, that’s not how Handong works. Handong’s force in driving your dick between her legs endangers your secrecy, as she nearly pushes you back into the shack enough to make unmistakable noise. “Yes mommy, I love you mommy, I love your pussy and your thighs and your mouth and hands and feet, everything mommy, please.”

Your rambling is like a simple shove to her. It’s all she needs to keep weaving your cock between her legs, waiting for your face to misshape as it always does before you cum, waiting for your lengthy ‘mmms’ that indicate your transition from aimless content to near orgasm.

The breeze grows stronger and you have a vantage of the vastness below. You’re not looking forward anymore, you’re looking to the side, to where the rock turns into a cliff.

Her thighs suffocate your erection, yet they soften her legs’ hold at the same time, an impossible texture that leaves you on the brink. A spurt of your load, she can sense almost preternaturally and she lets go. Not again.

Handong’s little hands take your erection to aim in front of her abs.

“Mommy!” you whine a little too loudly and mommy tiptoes to silence your naughty mouth with a deep kiss.

One more stroke and finally. You’re here. The destination.

Orgasm is like the shock of falling off of a cliff. It’s like the rush of excitement of skydiving, or a gust of wind nearly making your body keel over, Handong’s vise on your shaft keeping you on solid ground. She squeezes at the head of your cock with each pulse, plastering her toned stomach more and more so that it barely shines under the setting sun.

Your vision fades, your nails dig into your palm as you clench a fist, and Handong takes that hand, tasting one of your fingers suggestively and ensuring you have the longest climax of your life as your brain turns further into Handong’s clay. “That’s it baby. I’ve got you,” she says as ropes of semen continue to create a veneer on her fit abs.

With no concept of time, you estimate a minute must’ve passed and you’re throbbing anyway, the leaky faucet not yet fixed. Handong wraps your neck with her arms, nudging her tongue into your mouth as she lets the final thrumming of your cock experience the embrace of her pussy in one entrance. “Fuuck,” you utter.

It’s not the romantic sex you hoped but the destination was absolutely worth the journey, though it also helps seeing her midriff absolutely coated. Handong unsheathes you, spreading your cum on her skin, and ruins her panties further with the sticky load when she fingers herself a final time before pulling her leggings back up.

“Now that we took care of that wood...”

It’s a lot easier for you to join in with Handong’s giggles when your head is clear. She takes a moment to lean against the side of the cabin to allow both of you to catch a breath, before the two of you walk to the entrance mere meters away, putting on your masks. A campsite worker—Jungmo, it says on his name tag—looks up from his phone, enthusiastic just to see people. You grab some wood, wet wipes, and a couple bottles of soju.

“Ahh, so the husband’s doing all the work this time,” Jungmo says. You’re already wide-eyed at his assumption, but your eyes grow further, realizing Handong probably hasn’t cleaned up enough to be conspicuous.

“Mhm. Quid pro quo, you know? He does the work now and I do all the work later.” Handong says, and you can hear the smugness.

Pay for all the goods, trying to get between her and the worker in the small store, but you can tell by his stunned demeanor that you’re a little too late.

“N-nice, uh, hair, by the way,” he says as you two walk out. You’d shoot him a glare if it weren’t so true.

As you head back, you pass by another couple probably in their late thirties, and a group of college friends. You want to scold her, maybe take some of the wet wipes and clean her up, but your hands are too full. Not a chance at least one of them didn’t notice.

Handong takes a long shower in the small cabin. You’re like a lost puppy waiting for its owner, though your cock has a mind of its own more like a rabid hound watching Handong step out of the tiny bathroom fully nude. Other than new panties and windbreaker on top, she changes into the same grey cropped top and tight-fitting leggings from earlier.

“Are we going somewhere? It’s getting pretty late,” you say.

“Can’t be that late, there’s still sun.” The color of fire peeks through the cabin windows. She pulls out her trusty map again and points to a mountain outlook on a trail not too far. “I know we were gonna go in the morning, but going now should be fine too right? Don’t have to wake up early.”

“Yeah, the sky does look beautiful.” Find your morning sweatpants. Handong brings her small backpack along.

The trail’s entrance is only a few minutes walking away from the cabin. It’s a pretty easy one to hike, a path wide and well-traveled enough that families or other large groups could traverse along its length without worrying about catching a leg on a rock. Handong pulls you ahead excitedly.

You arrive at the simple wooden lookout, finding a couple of binoculars and a history of the mountain and the park on a sign.

“It’s nice,” you say, watching over the wilderness fading as it anticipates the cold winter ahead, with a snaking river flowing into a modest lake as a centerpiece, and a more vast sea of pale pink above you.

Handong has her hands above her eyes like a visor, searching for something, even though the sun is almost gone to the horizon on the right. She points further ahead in the trail, in the direction the sun shines its dying light. “I think I see a better spot.”

“Better?”

Instead of an answer, she runs along the trail and you have no choice but to chase her. She swerves to the right, dancing between the hefty trunks, until you reach the spot. Even though the leaves are mostly on the forest floor, the trees are dense enough that you can’t really see the original trail or the scenery below. However, you can make out the manmade overlook in the evening lighting.

Handong takes her backpack off and pulls out a towel.

“Are we having a picnic?”

“Shhh!” She covers your mouth with her hand as you hear rustling in the distance. “You didn’t notice the people behind us?” Handong whisper.

“I did. Didn’t think that would be a problem.”

She sets the towel down on a flat patch of ground next to a tree after moving aside some of the leaves. “Always know where your towel is. Good thing it’s getting dark.” Handong gets a small bottle from the backpack which you don’t recognize at first.

“Is that lube?” you ask.

“Of course. Now be quiet,” she says, stepping closer to you, making you back up against the tree by the towel.

A hand on her shoulder and you lean forward, whispering into her ear. “Oh yeah? And what about when I fill mommy’s ass? Who do you think’s gonna be the one to give us away?”

She smirks, surprised at your initiative, though it was initiative that made you come up with the pet name in the first place. Immediately, Handong grabs your head with both hands, wrapping her right leg around you, pushing you against the tree trunk as she devours your mouth in a kiss. It takes everything for either of you to back off, but eventually, she withdraws first, a bit of saliva forming a string between your lips. “Lie down.”

As you obey her command, Handong slips out of all her clothes and you do the same, your clothes making a pile like the leaves next to it. It’s a bit chilly. You both know how much heat you’re about to get. She squeezes the plastic bottle of lube onto your erection, and her hands warm up the cold slippery liquid as they work to thoroughly coat every inch of your cock.

“Are you comfortable by the way?” she says, squatting over you and hovering her pert ass over your tip.

The towel is a bit small for your whole body, but it’s a little late for you to mind. “More than enough.”

“Good,” Handong says, though her words turn into a prolonged high pitched noise, one that hikers might assume is some unidentified animal; her tight ring enveloping your cockhead threatens to turn you into one yourself, the pressure forcing you to go feral and ignore everything else as you fuck her asshole with all the strength in your hips. You know better though because in the few times you’ve had anal sex, Handong’s always needed time to adjust to your size.

Hour-long minutes pass as Handong sheathes herself.

She groans, digging her fingers into your shoulders and neck. “Fuck you’re all the way.”

Your voice turns higher, rapt by her squeezing. “Mommy, can I...”

“Yeah, you can move.” Your hands wrap around her waist and you practically carry her up, only the lube relieving you of the friction of her tightness along your length. Letting go, your cock impales her only a bit faster than the first penetration. She looks you dead in the eyes. “Fuck my ass.”

At her words, your grip lowers to her buttcheeks which you spread apart. It doesn’t do much physically to lighten the arduous journey into her ass, but the perfect handfuls of fat and muscle keep your hands occupied so that you don’t instinctually spank her and fill the forest with obvious sounds of sex. Withdraw your cock again, relaxing your hips. Over and over again, you fill her ass deeper but, try as you might, you feel disappointed at the disjointed thrusting. Handong sees that for all of your effort, your position lying down combined with the impossible force of her anus make it too difficult for you to find a practical rhythm. Her hands push down harder on you and she leans over.

Instantly, sparks course through your body, and hers too, by the way she brings her butt up and down smoothly. Once slow surges in pleasure turn into spikes. Handong’s gasping waxes and wanes, from small bursts to moments of breathlessness. She bends lower down as she clenches around your length, and you feel yourself hitting new destinations in her ass each time. “Your dick feels so big in mommy,” she says as you feel her hands press against her stomach, outlining the distension.

“It’s, it’s just, that mommy’s ass is so f-fucking tight,” you blubber. Handong notices you aren’t being quiet enough, taking her finger from her soaking pussy to your mouth, pacifying you. Suck her finger, relishing in the taste and smell of her juices. She bounces on your dick with enthusiasm, her thighs jiggling and slapping with no restraint, and every insertion is a new journey.

Then, chatter. It must be only meters away. Handong hunches over until she’s laying on top of you, kissing you to stop your breathing while your cock waits in agony inside of her. The way your erection bends makes you tremble underneath her, your arm’s embrace around her like it’s for dear life. Her tongue explores your mouth, seeing if she can discern her own taste. Handong starts shaking her ass subconsciously, running her hands through your hair, the carnal pulling making you moan into her. Relinquishing the kiss, you both open your eyes and you can see the hue of her dark irises.

“I love you, mommy.”

“I love you too baby.” Single breaths. In and out. She lays on your chest, comparing the sounds of your speeding heart to the sounds of conversation. “Okay, I think the coast is clear.”

Handong gets up, unsheathing your cock. “Ah, hah.”

The sun is no more, moonlight usurping the role of illuminating nature. Take a moment to devour the sight of a perfect woman lit only by the Earth’s natural satellite, squatting just enough for your tip to poke her ass lightly. She lies down next to you for just a second.

Kiss her cheek. She kisses yours back.

There’s a nearby stump, cut quite tall as you estimate it reaches Handong’s waist. It’s perfect. Lead her to it, moving the towel so she can kneel on the forest floor. Handong knows exactly how you want to take her. Kneel behind her in kind and she crosses her hands on her back, looking back at you. “Use my ass, baby.”

You add a little more lube, though some of it goes wasted as you smack your cock against her asschecks, procuring sharp yelps from Handong. Bury yourself in her ass and this time, it isn’t nearly as slow as it usually is. This time, bent over like a piece of meat, Handong is less of a confident woman and more a mess, wriggling as you keep her from keeling over with your hands’ restraint on wrists while you pound into her warm and tight butthole. Every plunge makes you grit your teeth when those unfortunately familiar throbs of your impending orgasm draw near. Take long breaths through your nose to hold it off, the scent of sweat overtaking the cool fresh air. Handong’s pussy is even wetter than before, you can tell when your balls hit it in your forceful thrusts. “I’m gonna, ahh, fucking ruin your ass mommy.”

“Ngh, god, fucking, ahh, ow, ahh,” she exclaims. Slow down your pace and let go of her hands. “Don’t you dare fucking stop, it hurts so good. Fuck!” Handong says as you fill her to the hilt, tickling something new when she’s bent over doggy.

Catch your breath, as your easing rhythm is admittedly to last a moment longer inside her blissful asshole.

Handong begs anyway. “Please, baby, mark mommy. Claim mommy’s ass. Inside and out.”

Grab her firm ass so forcibly that you don’t even notice your nails digging in, and renew the torrid pistoning of her ass once again. Her grunts and moans sound a bit pained in their high pitch, but her sexy face also reassures you as she looks back.

“Break me… Fucking break my ass,” Handong says while all of her features on her face distort in pure passion, “Ngh, please, I’m so close.”

The desperate pleas, going from words to moans, the pressure of her tight asshole on your cock, her needy hands fondling your balls, reaching for her wet slit in search of a final orgasm—everything about her sends you a step away from the cliff. “Me too mommy, I’m gonna cum!”

“Yes! Cum for me!” Handong says, fingering her pussy so sloppily, you can feel them inserting at a much faster rhythm than your cock sliding wantonly into Handong’s ass. Without warning, her climax arrives first. Two, three, who knows how many of her fingers are inside of her when her whole body tightens, but especially her asshole, which squeezes your shaft so much, it'd choke to death if it had to breathe. Handong lets out a squeal and you cover her mouth, the restriction of her airflow suffocating your cock even further somehow.

The two of you fly. The endlessness of nature disappears in your singular mind. Your cock. Handong’s ass.

You let your held breath out with a groan as the act of bringing your length all the way inside of her afflicts you with the throttling strain of her asshole. Even the subtlest pumps coerce more throbbing from the both of you, and one moment of black turns into two, the sensation of falling back to overwhelm you as you spill endless ropes of hot semen inside of her tight body. pleasure. Handong pours even more herself, when her fingers, absolutely dripping in her girl cum, massage your balls and prolong your climax, even despite your previous record-shattering orgasm today. It’s a mistake to try to pull out, her anus stimulating your shaft so much that you might collapse over her in unceasing pleasure.

When the pulsating throughout your body should end, it doesn’t, Handong still squirming and coaxing out strings of cum. As it turns out, the cliff was million feet tall. The high-inducing hormones in your brain subsides slowly, replaced with a short and faint ringing in your ears, and the chill in the air. Close your eyes tight and let out another long breath. Handong looks almost passed out on the tree trunk but she turns her head and smiles at you.

Your cock has yet to leave her ass, so this time you extract yourself slowly and the pulses return a final time. Her clingy anus sticks to your cock, and as you exit her, there’s a creamy mess on your shaft while sticky cum trickles slowly from her rear entrance. You manage a few extra spurts to decorate her ass for good measure. “Fuck. Holy shit, that was so much cum. God that feels so good.”

Her fingers are inclined to agree, as she pushes some of the cum back into her asshole.

”Dammit,” Handong sighs. “For all the important things I packed in the bag, I forgot my phone.”

“Ahh. Good thing I brought mine.”

Place your cock between her asscheeks. For as sensitive as you are, you truly consider putting it back in again. Find an angle to show off the two different leakages that glisten and stick to her thighs, one set of slick strings coming from her pussy, the other a more viscous white that gathers in globs.

“Now say cheese.” Handong looks back with a sultry grin on her cock-drunk face.

You examine her face again moments later, lit by a fire, now innocent and playful. Join in her laughter as you roast some marshmallows on the cabin deck and share in a bottle of soju, cuddled up in a blanket. Your heart warms without needing the flames nearby, watching Handong smile as she holds you closely. Snuggled in your neck, you can’t ignore her sweet-smelling hair flowing down. She’s changed, and you’re grateful to be there with her at every step. At the end of a cliff or falling far above the ground, throughout the journey or at the destination, her naughtiness on video or her sweetness in real life by your side. You won’t be picky as long as Handong is by your side.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

Goddamn, these are getting really long. Word counts are wonky, Google says less than 10k, but the word count at the top that I use on everything I've posted so far is from AFF. Ah well, doesn't really matter at the end of the day.

#kpop smut #dreamcatcher smut #male reader #reader insert #title tracks

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saphirered · 3 years

Note

I had a cute thought today after getting sunburn lol - imagine the exu peeps are on the road during the colder months, and one shares a night watch with the reader who is like a walking furnace (maybe tiefling for infernal bloodline) and the reader just... scooches over to their chilly companion and hold them close so they don't freeze 💚💚💚💚🔥

Okay here we go. Hope you enjoy! 😘

(Dorian)

Never did Dorian think he’d be the one to be so cold. It’s impossible to repress the shivering no matter how much he tries to huddle up in a ball pulling his knees to his chest, arms closely tucked under his armpits. It’s like ice runs through his veins and there’s nothing he can do about it. He has half the mind to just put his hands in the campfire until he feels the heat burn but he’d rather not have to deal with burns for the rest of his life just because he felt cold one night.

You’re seated on the edge of camp paying close attention to the road nearby for any passerby's that may threaten you and your group. Once you deem it safe and its late enough to be sure no one traverses the roads at this hour you return to the camp to see Dorian trying to cocoon himself up in whatever he can find. You sit down in your previous spot not too far from him as he tries to get comfortable but simply can’t. The shivering is quite pitiful if not a little adorable.

Dorian’s eyes turn from the fire to you; completely unfazed by whatever cold he’s experiencing. When you take off your scarf and hand it to him he doesn't think twice about taking it and quickly wraps the warm fabric around his hands. How is it your scarf feels this warm? It’s almost unfair. You laugh as he blows air into his fabric clad hands to preserve heat.

“Are you laughing at me?” Dorian accuses with a hint of jest though he might actually just be very jealous of you.

“Maybe a little. Don’t take this the wrong way but you look terrible.” Dorian fake gasps because how dare you tell him he doesn’t look tiptop.

“Well since you seem to have me at a disadvantage, how about you share your mysterious ways to stay warm?” You laugh and scoot closer offering him your hands. Hesitantly he removes one of his from your scarf and when he feels the body heat preserved within you he pulls you in, wrapping his arms around you and making you his own personal heater.

“You’re welcome.” You say as Dorian’s grip tightens in recompense for your comment but mutters a ‘thank you’ somewhat muffled by your shoulder.

“As long as you know I will not let you go until the cold fades.” Dorian pulls away slightly to properly speak to you and regrets his words the moment your smug grin becomes apparent. Maybe he shouldn’t stroke your ego as such but right now the benefits far outweigh the downsides. When you don’t protest and instead welcome his wish he returns to your warm embrace fully burying his head into your shoulder once more. You get some weird looks from the next shift at the genasi having wrapped himself around you without any intend to let go until you have to move again.

----

(Orym)

Orym is no stranger to the cold. He usually sits it out and through until it passes or he’s on the move again. Now when it’s his turn to take watch he can’t really just fall asleep and let unconsciousness carry him to the morning away from the cold night. At first he sits twisting and rubbing at his fingers, wiggling his toes to keep the blood flow and feeling going but when that’s not enough he picks up his sword following the familiar steps of his routines keeping his muscles warm. It preserves some heat but he knows the moment he stops he’ll be freezing again.

You sit and watch Orym go through the deliberate paces, light on his feet, nearly inaudible. The motions are much akin to a practiced dance and you find yourself staring, ears still listening for possible dangers. He repeats the same routine a few times before moving on to a different one and another after that. While he keeps his breathing under control you know he’s exerting himself the longer he keeps this going so you get up and make your way over to him making sure to stay clear of the swinging sword. Not that you’d think Orym would be careless enough to hit you.

“Orym, while I appreciate the entertainment during this uneventful night, don’t you think you should sit down and take some rest too? You’ll be exhausted in the morning if you keep this going.” You gently remind him and Orym doesn’t stop moving but you know he’s aware you’re there and he’s listening.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” He speaks timed right with another move as of not to throw off his breathing pattern too much. You carefully move in placing a hand on his shoulder and his movements halt. By just a single touch he can feel the radiant heat run through him like a divine light. Orym takes in a sharp breath, tensing up. There goes his routine but then again, he appreciates the warmth running through him.

“Come sit with me?” You ask gently guiding him over towards the fire. Orym obliges and puts away the sword taking a seat next to you. He can already feel the lack of radiant heat drain from his body when you remove your hand to take your seat. He rubs his hands together and even being in your near vicinity you have a warmth around you. He finds himself scooting closer inch by inch to go from frozen wastes to warm summer night but still he longs for just a little bit more.

“Hey, do you mind if I-“ Orym gestures to the space between you two and before he can finish his question you’ve pulled him into your side. He doesn’t refuse the embrace and instead welcomes it taking in a deep breath warmth returned to him.

----

(Fearne)

When you wake up for your shift with Fearne it’s still very cold in the early morning, a little over an hour or two away from the sunrise to hit at the end of your shift, you can’t afford a fire right now being chased and on the run. The smoke and light alone might put you all in a dangerous situation so the group would have to suffer the cold. Sleeping through the cold isn’t the problem. Being awake to keep watch is. At least for some. Not you. You’re fine. While it may be a disadvantage in certain circumstances or when facing the judgement of others, in these cases the infernal bloodline really shines through.

Fearne is huddled up pulling the hems of her dress close around her to keep in the heat. The lack of fire really does her no good. She could create one with the snap of her fingers but doesn’t have the luxury to do so now. Not even Little Mister curled up on her lap does much to preserve her internal warmth. Yet something calls her closer towards you like a moth drawn to a flame. She tries to resist the effect but whenever she moves, changes her position or the likes she feels as if she’s moved another inch closer to you.

You sit carving away at a piece of wood with your knife to pass the time and keep a look out but you’re aware of Fearne moving closer little by little. You don’t want to say anything as you’d probably get an answer you wouldn’t understand anyway and just let her do her thing. The faun’s got her reasons so just let them be. Besides, you don’t want to accidentally wake up the Little Mister again or you might just find monkey excrements stuffed between your belongings again.

“Oh! I get it now!” Fearne speaks to herself, ears perching up when she looks at you you raise an eyebrow and stop your whittling. She begins moving closer towards you carrying the monkey with her. Mister rolls onto his back when she’s seated right next to you and you watch as the previously puffs of smoke turn into puffs of ember. Fearne feels herself get warmer and warmer, heat rising to her cheeks and limbs.

“Looks like my kind of fire and yours aren’t so different after all.” She smiles and it takes you a second to figure out she means the hellfire from your lineage, the Plane of Fire flame of Mister and the wildfire within her. Just being close together raises the temperature for you enough to provide some comfortable warmth. Fearne waits for your permission and when you nod she curls up next to you putting her head in your lap mindful of her horns.

----

(Dariax)

Dariax glares into the campfire. It’s so not fair the fire gets to be warm when he is not. Yes he can warm his hands but the rest of him will remain cold and he’s not putting the rest of him any closer to the fire than he already is. He’s not stupid. A little oblivious at times, maybe but not stupid. He finds himself praying to whatever entity gave him his powers will bring him towards some warmth. A coffee would be nice, or a good roast. He could even do with a stew or some soup but every time he looks at the compass around his neck the arrow points towards you, adding another log or kindling onto the fire to preserve it throughout your watch.

“Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. I know you stupid thing. I know fire is warm but I can hardly throw myself into it without getting burned, now can I!” Dariax grumbles half the mind to throw the thing into the fire to see who’d have the last laugh. Why must this divine shit be so cryptic one moment and completely and utterly useless the next.

You stare at the dwarf in confusion at the sudden outburst as he keeps grumbling. Something’s clearly up but luckily from your peripheral you can see the others are still fast asleep none the wiser about Dariax’s frustrations.

“Everything alright, Dariax?” You ask. Frustration is written over his face but lessens when addressing you and turns a little more spiteful at something inward.

“Yes! Yes! Everything is completely fine.” He grumbles and you raise an eyebrow knowing full well that is not the case. Dariax knows you see through whatever poor attempt of an act he may have tried and failed to put on.

“If you say so. I guess I’ll keep this nice hot cup of tea to myself then.” You pour some water into a cup and use your magic to heat it until it’s steaming. Dariax looks on as if he’s a man stuck in the desert finding water for the first time in days. He hurries over and takes the cup from you before you can take a sip, downing it in one go.

“Ow. That’s hot. That’s really hot.” Dariax instantly regrets downing an entire cup of steaming hot tea. He can feel his throat burning an has no feeling left in his tongue and mouth in general but the warmth settling in his stomach is nothing short of being worth the pain.

“Thank you for calling me hot.” You grin and Dariax is about to say that wasn’t what he meant but it’s not like it’s not true. You are hot. Wait…. oh… Now he gets it. The compass wasn’t pointing at the fire. It was pointing at you. Without any hesitation he scoots closer to your side until he’s right up next to you. You wrap an arm around him and pull him closer into your side allowing your body to exude the heat and share its warmth.

----

(Opal)

Opal fiddles with her thumbs. Why did she agree to take first watch again? Oh right, because you’re there. What she does not appreciate is the temperature decreasing slowly to the point where she can feel the difference, her body not getting enough time to get used to the drop before it grows colder again. What she can’t stand is you seemingly unaffected by this all humming a sweet melody leaning back on your elbows to watch the stars above every so often. Opal is jealous and it’s not hard to tell.

You feel a glare burn into you with the heat of the hellfire your patron draws their power from. All you can tell is that it’s not something you’ve done as moments before you’re still holding pleasant conversation. Opal isn’t upset by something you’ve said or done. She may just be a little petty when it comes to directing her jealousy of your indifference to the cold at you.

“Hey Opal, are you cold?” You ask the girl as she pulls her cropped jacket closer around her shrinking within herself intensifying the glare.

“No. Why do you ask?” Opal scoffs biting her lip to prevent it from trembling as an icy cold gust of wind blows through.

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s just very nice and warm over here closer by the fire. I thought you might enjoy it.” If you know Opal to be anything it’s stubborn and now is no different. Ted must be scolding her as her mood sours considerably.

“I’m good out here. It’s nice and cool in the breeze.” You hear her mutter something else under her breath but can’t make out what from the distance.

“Okay, whatever you say.” You go back to your business letting the human wallow in self-pity. No one but Opal is able to convince herself to get over herself and give into the help of others when she’s trying to prove a point but that doesn’t mean you can’t persuade her to give in and let her take credit for doing something you suggested.

“You know, for a human you’re holding up very well. I don’t think I could sit all the way over there away from the fire weren’t it for my infernal blood keeping me warm. It’s always nice and handy to not need to carry as many layers just to stay warm. Though, some people are bothered by the warmth of my skin upon contact. They say my blood must be boiling in my veins. I just take that as a compliment.”

As you continue on listing the benefits of your infernal ancestry Opal grumbles to herself getting up from her spot and strides over to you. Without a word of warning she sits down in your lap wrapping her arms around your neck.

“Comfy?”

“Shut up.” You’re not going to push your luck and allow the freezing human to cuddle up with you and bask in your natural body heat. Secretly Opal is thankful but Ted’s little ‘I told you so’ does not do well for her mood. Better get used to being her personal heater because Opal is not forgetting this.

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #exu x reader #exandria unlimited x reader #dorian x reader #dorian storm x reader #orym x reader #fearne calloway x reader #fearne x reader #dariax x reader #dariax zaveon x reader #opal x reader #critical role #exu #exandria unlimited

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ms-indifferwnt · 3 years

Text

“I’m Cold”

“I’m cold"

“And?”

“Can’t you give me your jacket or something?”

“Can’t you accept my proposal and marry me already?”

In which Prince Donghyuck’s parents are forcing him to get married and he decided to propose to the first girl he sees to shut his parents up

Genre: Prince!Lee Donghyuck x Maid!Reader, Angst, Fluff, Arranged Marriage (kinda), Slowburn

Warnings: Curse words, Suggestive (I’ll add more if there are)

Notes: Chapter 9 out of 13 of Im Cold. This came out a lot

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

Prev / Chapter 9 / Next

Donghyuck, your eyes were closed just as he had instructed and smiles, it was a long day and he knows your scared so he stayed by your side just as you had requested, he sat across from you (which you were worried about, you invited him to sit beside you so it'll be comfortable but he just holds your hand and tells you to rest, and with great reluctance and a lot of persuading from the Prince you finally decided to rest. He only pulled his hand away when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket, Doyoung texted him after he clearly stated to not be bothered, at least Doyoung tried

Donghyuck stares at his phone, Y/n should be okay by tomorrow, in any case I'll instruct Yuta to stay by her side all day and make sure Yangyang and two or three of the Honoris (the knights that Prince Donghyuck Commands, lead by Sir Yangyang) are at her beck an call, he nods and types on his phone Yes reschedule it to tomorrow

"Your Highness?" Your voice made his finger hover over the send button and he looks up his hand immediately taking yours, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call you while you're busy"

Donghyuck shakes his head "I wasn't," he smiles softly "Didn't I tell you to get some sleep?"

You returned the smile "I can't"

"I can ask for a glass of warm milk" He says and attempts to stand and then pointed a finger at you, you tilt your head "Milk not hot chocolate, you won't be able to sleep with the sugar"

You smile at his words "No, please" You held his hand making sure he wont leave "Don't wake the anyone for my sake, I'll sleep"

"Then sleep"

"But I wanna ask the Prince something"

"Go on then" Donghyuck says as he looks at his phone where Doyoung was still waiting for his response

"Can I go home?" Donghyuck froze at your words, fear being evident n his eyes as you clarified, his mind was running with questions of this was how afraid you were to afraid to stay at the palace "Tomorrow is supposedly my day off as a maid, I would like to go home and meet my family if that's ok"

"Of course its ok" He answers visibly relaxing at your request "I'll arrange a ride and escorts for you"

"I don't need escorts I'm just going home, Your Highness"

"You're my Fiancé you can't leave the palace without an escort, you were at the the palace and you got hurt what if you're out there?"

"Please? I don't want to make this a big of a deal"

He was firm with his decision about having an escort, the he grinned as he had an idea "Can I come?"

"Sorry?"

"No escorts just you and me, It'll be great to get out of the palace and you get to go home"

You sat up and shook your head "Your Highness I just help my parents with the flower shop, it'll be extremely boring-"

"Then wouldn't my visit be beneficial?" Donghyuck says and tilts his head "Not only am I visiting my soon-to-be-in-law's but I'm also visiting their shop that should boost your sales"

"Prince Donghyuck-"

"I don't wanna leave you alone" he cuts you off, he sounded sincere and worried his hand holding yours and you scrunched your nose and Donghyuck had to resist the smile that threatened to leave his lips

"But his highness has a schedule tomorrow"

"I don't" He answered quickly, his other hand (the one not holding you) had already pressed backspace and sent a new message to Doyoung

"I really don't" He answers and gives you a small smile "Let me accompany you?"

You stared at him, will it really be ok? If the Prince neglects his duties for you, you might actually hit him "You can come" He lights up "Only if you have nothing to do, otherwise," you pursed your lips "I'll go with another escort, ok?"

Donghyuck nods, happy to have you agree "Ok, I accept your terms, now get some rest, I'll make the preparations"

You nod and settled back down "Stay with me 'till I fall sleep?"

He nods at your suggestion and in all honesty, Donghyuck had no plans in leaving you alone at all, he watches you close your eyes and he looks at his phone where Doyoung has sent a message

Donghyuck looks at your already sleeping form and he smiles, he adjusts the blankets to cover you more and used his finger to brush the hair out of your face and he coos, You looked exhausted which was true today had been a long day and you deserved the rest so he pulls away and looks out your window into the grassy fields. He took this time to think about Doyoung's suggestion, next week the deal would be over and you will no longer be his fiance, he will no longer have a reason to bring you around anymore, he nods

He sighs, a bitter taste filling his mouth, this shouldn't be hard, why would he care if the deal is over? He locks his phone, What the hell is wrong with him?

"Mama, Papa!" You called and happily jumped to hug your parents the moment you entered the shop, "I missed you"

"Aww Y/n" Your father whispers and hugs you "My Darling, look at you" You smile and leaned into your father's scent before you get an earful from your mother

"Mama?" You called and you yelped as your mother hugged you before pinching your ears and you cry "Ma!"

"Y/n what the hell are you thinking?!" She screeched "Why agree to be on a fake relationship with the Prince?"

You pouted and rubbed your ears, as your father laughs, its no secret that he misses how you and your mother would play around, "Pa, why won't you defend me?" You whined and he laughs more

"I'd rather not get in-between you and your mother" He answers

You scrunch your nose "Traitor"

"Y/n" Your mother calls you again and you straiten up "Do you have any idea-"

"Lay off her Ma" A familiar voice starts from the doorway to the back of the shop and you squealed running over to tackle your brother in a hug "Hi" He chuckles and pets your hair before pinching your ears "Cause I want first dibs, I can't believe you did something so reckless"

"Pa!" You called out and your father pried your brother off you "Like you guys would've said No to the Prince?"

You're brother looks at you and he laughs "Come here" You moved to him and he pulls you to a hug "You're an idiot but you got a point"

You rolled your eyes and hugged him happily, You missed your brother.

"Still, why you?" Your mother asks and you moved to hug her and give her a kiss on the cheek "Is the Prince treating you well? Fake or not he should treat you with respect"

"He does Mama" You answered and held you mother more "The Prince is really kind and caring"

She looks at you and you smile, "If you insist, But that doesn't mean I'm happy with this Fake Relationship of yours"

"There is no need to worry Y/n is in great hands" Donghyuck answers and entered the shop Bowing in front of your parents and they bowed in shock at the sudden intrusion. Donghyuck yelps and quickly straitened your families posture, "No Please, Don't bow, I do not deserve that" Your family looked down, ashamed at there words and the Prince laughs "They act like you"

"Your Highness-" Your brother starts

Donghyuck bows "Please, It's Donghyuck. Even if Y/n and I are on a deal, We have become good friends, and I would like to be close with her family too"

You poked your brother's shoulder so he'll speak "It'll be an honor your Highness" He smiles bowing slightly and Donghyuck bows

"I would like to Present gifts to Y/n's family" Donghyuck starts and moves to take a box out from his bag "Consider this as a thankyou for giving birth to Y/n and an engagement gift from me"

"You Highness" I gasped and he grins moving to present the gift

"Oh my god" Your mom gasps and looks at the Prince smiles "Y/n mentioned you needed a new plot of land for your plants, I have brought the deed of the land, I hope that is alright"

"My Prince we can't accept this" Your father answers

He shakes his head "Please, It would be an honor to help" He takes out two other boxes and bows handing it to your parents "And these are presents from the King and Queen"

Your parents froze at the Prince's words "Your highness" Your father starts again and Donghyuck motions for them to open the gift

Your bother drags you away and puffs his cheeks as you laugh, "Y/n, was the Prince always, stuck up?"

You smile, you knew your brother was very insightful and he has the tendency to say things he regrets later on but you decide to tease him anyway "Should I relay your words to the Prince?"

He hits you at the teasing and you laugh, Donghyuck turns to you and smiles, he didn't regret seeing you here at your home, He adores your smile and you deserve to be happy and he'll do anything to keep that smile of yours. He looks at your parents "And I would like to buy flowers, The Queen always mentioned that she wanted the Royal Gardens to be expanded" He smiles "Do you have any recommendations?"

"Y/n" He calls and you and you walked towards him, and he shows you the flowers in his hands "Red Chrysanthemums or Heliotrope?" He asks and you scrunched your eyebrows

"That doesn't match the flowers In the Royal Garden, Your Highness" you answered "Lilies might blend well with The Queen's White Carnation"

"I'm not placing them there" He answers and you looked at him confused "They'll be in the plot of land by your room"

You blinked "What?"

"You never told me how plane that part was and The Queen wanted to extend the Garden and I thought why not" He answers and looks at the flowers "Which one would you think is better?"

"It is completely your choice, My Prince" You answered

"I'm asking you, Y/n"

You looked at him and he raises an eyebrow waiting for your answer "The Heliotrope"

He nods and hands it back to your mother as he takes out his phone to contact Doyoung "I'll take fifty of those" He informs

"Fifty is too much for that land, Your highness" You Informed as your parents stared at the Prince in his surprise

"I know" He answers and smiles "I have something in mind for the extras"

"Would you like coffee your highness?" Your mother asks as she places the hot water into a glass

He nods his head as you tilt yours, You're family made you sit by the Prince while they prepare snacks, You're mom doesn't seem to have notice the Prince's answer as you spoke first "Ma can I get Hot chocolate?"

"No" She answered and you pout "No, too much sugar" She says and raises her eyebrow at you but you nodded

"Um," Donghyuck cuts in "I would like Hot Chocolate if that's alright" You looked at him, He hates sweets, why would he ask of that?

Your mother nods, smiling at the Prince "Yes of course"

Your brother flops down across from you "You'll give it to her, won't you?"

You looked at The Prince who nods "Is it that obvious?"

"I'm afraid so your majesty"

The Prince laughs and nods "Well it can't be helped"

"You don't have to worry about me you know" You started and he looks at you "I could always coax Mama"

He smiles "I know, but I thought this would be easier"

You opened your mouth to retaliate only to hear the front door of the shop open and a familiar voice pop in "Auntie where should I put these?" you stared at the figure at the door as Donghyuck looks at him he bows "I'm sorry for barging in, I didn't know The Prince was here, I wouldn't have entered otherwise"

Donghyuck watched as the boy looks at you before standing up again "No Please, Come in"

The man bows and looks at your brother as you stared at him "Hyung, I'll go put this in the storage room" He informs and moves to enter the storage room, his eyes briefly meeting yours before disappearing behind the door and you couldn't help but whimper at the action

The Prince stared at you confused behind the exchange and you seemed frozen, staring at the door. He reaches out a comforting hand to yours but your brother despite being a fan of the Prince knows the reason behind that look in your eyes and he was starting to grasp the Prince's feelings for you but he had to be sure "Y/n" He called your name before The Prince could hold your hand and you jolted as if waking up from a trance

You reached out to pat the Prince's hand which was closes to you as you stood up "I'll be back, just a moment, My Prince" You said and stood up running to the storage room "Hendery!" You called and disappeared behind the door

"You're quite quick" Donghyuck says looking at the door the way you did when Hendery entered "You knew what I was doing?"

Your brother nods "I'm sorry for interrupting but my sister, despite being your fake Fiance is still my sister" He answers and takes a deep breath, he knows that is rude but The Prince seemed to enjoy the conversation, you and your brother are alike, both of you aren't afraid to stand up for yourselves

"Who is he?" Donghyuck asks and looks at your brother, using his position as the Prince to dominate your brother who was older than him

"My sister must be very important to you your Highness" Your brother notes, his competitive side coming out "Makes me wonder how important my sister is to His Highness, may I ask why?"

Donghyuck seemed to have been taken a back by the question begore humming and regained his composure, Why does this bother him? "I promised Y/n," He answers and smiled "I promised her despite being in a fake engagement," Donghyuck copied your brother's tone as a silent way to warn him about his words "That I'll take care of her"

Your brother nodded, The Prince's intentions was definitely to take care of you, he now has no doubt "His name is Wong Hendery" Your brother answered "He is my sister's Boyfriend" Donghyuck froze at the information and your brother looks at him to study his reaction "Didn't Y/n mention him?"

No. "Yes," He lies and looks at his hands, it shouldn't hurt, but why? Why does he want to cry? "She has, I just didn't know what he looked like"

"You should follow her, My Prince" Your brother starts "I doubt Hendery would believe her if she was the only one who spoke about your agreement"

And Donghyuck stand to follow after you the moment your brother said those words

"What do you want me to believe?" Hendery asks and you looked at him reaching out to hold his hand "I was hurt," he whispered and you teared up at his words "Why would My Y/n be in a relationship with the Prince when she just accepted my love for her? Did I do something wrong? Was it me? Did I drive her away?"

You shake your "No, Don't think like that-"

"Then Why?" He asked, his emotions a mix of both anger and sadness "Why?"

"We're not together, the Prince asked for my help and I wanted to say no but how could I say No to the Prince?" You pleaded "I'm sorry," you bowed your hand and a sob leaves your lips, Donghyuck who was listening behind the door flinched at the sound of you crying, he wanted to barge in there and hold you, to console you, he wanted to be in there with you "But the Prince is just a Prince," Tears started slipping from your eyes as you spoke, the build up of frustration and fear and pain you felt the last couple of days finally being enough, Hendery being the only person you could rely on and at the thought of loosing him you broke "The Prince doesn't mean anything to me, Hendery, please I'm sorry-" you cried and were silenced when Hendery wrapped his arms around you

"Y/n what happened in the Palace?" He asked and wiped your tears, he knows you enough to know how strong willed you were and that something must've happened if it upsets you that much

Donghyuck freezes at your words and looked away, tears building up in his eyes, he was in pain, why? he doesn't know himself, maybe its because he can hear you crying and not be able to do anything about it, that seems to be the only reason

You shake your head as he holds you close "Believe me the Prince and I-"

"I believe you" Hendery spoke and pulls away to look at you, wiping your tears "I promise, I believe you. Didn't I tell you while I courted you? I'll believe anything you say as long as you choose me in the end"

You stared at him and started crying even more and he holds you "Please Hendery I'm so sorry" You wailed and he looks up whatever happened to you must've placed a huge toll on your mental state "Please don't leave! I-I can't loose you! I can't- I was so afraid, I was so scared I- I felt so alone and-"

"You're ok, I'm here, I'm staying" He assures and whispers into your ears "I love you, It's ok, let it out, you need to cry it all out" he whispers "Let me take care of you, Let me" He says and you loose consciousness, "Y/n!" He curses before lifting you, carrying you out of the storage room and he sees the Prince on his way

Donghyuck looks at your limp figure on Hendery and opens his mouth to speak before Hendery turns and walk in the direction of a bedroom and places you inside and down on the bed, his hand intertwined with yours to whisper small promises of him staying 'till you wake up

"What Happened to her?" Donghyuck asks after following after Hendery and you

"No offense, Your Highness but shouldn't I be the one to ask you that?" Hendery shot back and looked at the Prince "What happened in the palace? Why was she she afraid?"

Donghyuck's jaw hardened, He had no reason to fight against the boy in front of him, he is legally your boyfriend and just outside was your family, he is at a great disadvantage "She was Physically abused by a Duchess and her daughter"

Hendery stood up "She was, what!?" He was angry enough to speak informally to the Prince but Neither could care less, You were more important than their status

"I took care of it," Donghyuck answered, lips pursed as he sees your figure "I saved her, and punished the Duchess and Haneul accordingly"

"You heard our conversation, which part of that is her being ok?"

"I don't want any harm on her, I came and helped the moment I heard about it"

"Why would a Duchess harbor something like that?"

"I was once engaged to the Duchess's Daughter"

"On a fake relationship?"

"Watch your tone" Donghyuck warned and Hendery stared at him unthreatened "The King thought it would be the perfect match, but I dumped her when I caught sight of her personality"

"She must've been scared" Hendery whispers and sits back down "I don't care about your story, My Prince, but you must understand, I love Y/n and I will do anything to make her happy"

"I can see that, rest assured" Donghyuck sighs "I'm sorry, for making your relationship with her complicated, but our agreement will only last for two weeks, and I will make sure no harm will come to her after I announce about our break up"

Hendery looks at your sleeping form and then back at the Prince "I know your Highness" he answers and kisses your fingers "She has a special place with you, doesn't she?"

"No, She is a friend" His jaw hardened once again at the words

"well in that case" Hendery looks at the Prince with a tilt of his head "Can I ask the Prince for a favor about Y/n's Birthday?"

"Her Birthday?"

"Yes, I was planning on surprising her with a sweets my mother bakes" He smiles softly at a memory of you adoring his mother's sweets "perhaps The Prince will be interested making her birthday more memorable?"

I’m Cold Taglist:

@staysstrays @tyongf-sunflower99 @jackyeongljin @rebel-lious-alien @daydreamiies @channiespup @jaeshark @itlittlefangirl @ncttboo @manutuankim @annetsocial

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softyoongiionly · 4 years

Text

Fear and Dumplings: Chapter Seventeen

Confronting your fears for a final grade sounds unappealing but, with Yoongi as your partner, things might not be so bad.

Summary: You’re in your final semester at University when your Abnormal Psychology professor assigns you a partnered project surrounding your greatest fears. Lucky for you, your partner just so happens to be a cute boy named Min Yoongi.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Underground Rapper! Yoongi, Soft!!! Yoongi, Fluff!!!, College! Yoongi, Sub! Yoongi

Word Count: 9.1k

A/N: Hi friends! Here is a new chapter for you. I know it’s been a super duper long time since I’ve updated this series but, I plan on wrapping up the current timeline (wink wink) within the first half of the year! Special shoutout to my amazing friend @bulletproofbirdy who I love so so much. Without her big genius brain, I would literally not be able to get through any of my wip. Another huge shoutout to @gldnrecs @kithtaehyung @yoonia and @randombtsprincessa for being my lil hype team. I love you! Also, thank you to everyone over at @bangtansorciere. I am so grateful to have met so many lovely new friends this year! okiii bye. I hope you like it!

NOTE: all bolded words indicate when characters are speaking Korean

Warnings for this Chapter: ok here we go…(TRIGGER WARNING)

moderate angst, drug use (marijuana), mentions of anxiety, brief allusions to physical abuse, very brief allusions to drug addiction, alcohol

Chapter Seventeen: Daegu and Dirty Laundry

No thoughts, head empty (and in Yoongi’s lap)

The two of you are in his living room, bags packed by the front door, awaiting the cab to take you to the airport.

In a few short hours, you were leaving on a plane to Daegu to visit Yoongi’s older brother and, you can tell by the way he’s shuffled around all morning that he’s anxious.

Thankfully, Hoseok and Namjoon woke up with him, knowing that emotions would be high and well- offered to get him high.

“This is a really good indica strain hyung,” Hoseok assures him as he hands over a zip-lock bag, “I rolled a joint with this last night and passed out in like 30 minutes.”

Yoongi, dressed in an all-black sweat outfit, accepts the bag into the palm of his hand, before grabbing the pipe that’s resting on the couch cushion beside him.

“Did you get it from that same guy?” Yoongi asks, his voice heavy beneath the obvious tension he’s feeling.

Despite his attempts to remain casual, you know him well enough to feel how nervous he is. He’s practically vibrating beneath you but, you know that pointing this out will only make it worse so instead, you merely rub the outside of his thigh whilst he packs his pipe.

“Yeah, Jin’s friend-” Hoseok responds before nodding to Namjoon, “He’s honestly killing it right now. Jin told me he’s made like 5 grand already.”

Namjoon raises his brows, “Really? Damn, that’s impressive, I’ve never heard of anyone taking off that fast.”

“Jin has a lot of contacts-” Yoongi offers, adjusting the bud once more before grabbing his lighter, “it probably helped him get started. Plus, I think a lot of people around here have been looking for a good plug. Whatever he’s doing is working though, the high from last night was pretty good.”

At Yoongi’s comment, Hoseok’s lip melt into a salacious smirk as he raises his brows and jerks his chin towards you, “Are you sure it had nothing to do with that one over there?” He teases, “Yah, what are you so quiet for? You haven’t given me shit all morning...”

His comment makes you giggle but Yoongi cuts in before you’re able to respond.

“She’s tired, leave her alone.” He scolds but his lips twitch at the sound of your laughter.

Hoseok snickers as you finally decide to sit up. You can feel Yoongi’s eyes on you even as he lifts the pipe to his mouth. Tucking yourself into the side of the couch, you finally decide to add to the conversation.

“Is the guy you pick up named Yugyeom by chance?” The sleepiness in your tone is more obvious than you were expecting and, it makes Yoongi smile to himself whilst he lights his pipe.

Namjoon nods, “Yeah, it is. Do you know him?”

Yoongi’s attention is on you even as he inhales his first hit, the nerves in his body standing at attention, waiting to be soothed.

“He was in my human sexuality class.” You remember, with a grin on your lips, “That’s actually where I met Jin too. I just had a feeling that it was him because, he literally always came to class high. Plus, him and Jin were like inseparable.”

Namjoon winces, “Of all the people to get stuck learning about sex with. I’m sorry...”

This makes you laugh, as your mind journey’s back to all the days you spent trying not to make a scene as Jin made sexual puns in the middle of a serious lecture.

“It definitely kept things interesting...” You offer, “I’m glad to hear that Yugyeom is thriving on his own. He mentioned his dad wanted him to join the family business but, I could never picture that man in a suit.”

Hoseok chuckles before his face tightens with intrigue, “Oof that makes one of us. He would look fine as hell in a suit.”

Namjoon grins, nudging Hoseok with his foot, “You got a thing for him?”

For the first time, you see a hint of shyness overcoming Hoseok’s demeanor but he shrugs it off, trying to appear casual, “I mean- I don’t know about all that. I’m just saying that he would look good in a suit.”

“You’d both look good in suits- together...” You offer, grinning at him, “Maybe in a private venue somewhere...”

Hoseok rolls his eyes but the smile creeping onto his lips is unmistakable, “Shut up- you guys are fucking wild. All I said is that he was hot...”

Giggling, you shrug your shoulders before nodding over to Yoongi, “Yeah well that’s how it starts-” You warn, “Then the next thing you know, you’re sitting on the subway, simping over a selfie he sends you.”

Yoongi’s soft lips immediately turn up in a small smile, the shy boy in him peeking out. At first, he says nothing as he merely passes the pipe to Namjoon, who mirrors a similar expression.

Hoseok is back to his normal mischief, feeling relieved that the heat is off him for the time being.

“Are you saying you’d marry Yoongi then?”

He expects you to be flustered by this question but, the answer is simple.

“This man?” You raise your brows as you point to Yoongi, “You’re asking me if I would marry this man right here? Hoseok- I would wife this man up so quickly, it would give you whiplash.”

Your comment causes the three of them to laugh and, to add to the shifting vibe of the room, you feel Yoongi wrap his arm around you in an effort to pull you into his side.

“You can’t say shit like that right in front of them, they don’t need to see me soft...” He mumbles shyly in your ear before kissing your cheek, his heart singing with validation.

“Hyung, you act like we don’t already know who whipped you are for this girl.” Hoseok laughs, eagerly accepting the pipe from a coughing Namjoon.

Yoongi ignores him with his arm still around you, checking his phone with the other hand, “The cab should be here soon, do you need anything before we go?”

“Hyung, you’re gonna leave your piece here right? Cause we kinda need it-”

Namjoon eyes him suspiciously, “What happened to your bong?”

Hoseok cringes, “I may have accidentally dropped it off the rooftop...”

Namjoon’s eyes blow wide open, “What the fuck were you doing on the rooftop to begin with?”

“I wanted to vibe! The bud was good and, I wanted to listen to the J. Cole album and get in my feelings hyung, get off my dick-” He laughs, playfully defensive.

“Hey that’s J Cole song-” You point out giggling at the double meaning, the exhaustion from earlier finding you once again.

“Exactly, I’m glad you caught that-” Hoseok winks at you before Yoongi finally responds.

“I’m not going to take my pipe through international security. Pot isn’t legal in Korea so, I wouldn’t be smoking while we were there anyway.”

“Oh shit that’s right-” Namjoon remembers, “I really need to keep up with what’s been going on back home, I heard they were opening the discussion about it recently but, I haven’t kept up with it.”

Hoseok interjects, “What about your brother? He probably has connections.”

Yoongi shrugs, “He might but, I'm not going to worry about it.” He glances at his phone again before turning it towards you, “Our car is here, you ready to go?”

You offer him a small smile as you nod, your cheek tingling still as he places another kiss to it.

He stands up first before holding his hand out to you. Eagerly, you lace your fingers with his and, hoist yourself off the couch.

“Alright you two-” Namjoon stands too, brushing his hands over the front of his hoodie, “Try and send us updates when you can yeah?” He shoots a look towards Yoongi that is filled with an emotion that breaches casual concern.

Yoongi understands perfectly, offering Namjoon a solemn nod in return as he pats his shoulder, “Yeah I will. I’ll text you when we land...”

Moments later, the two of you are in the back of the cab. Yoongi takes the middle seat so he can be close to you, his fingers are interlaced tightly with your own despite the fact that his hand is already sweating.

He’s anxious.

You can feel it and, you’re faced with two options.

Address it

Distract him

It’s not an easy choice but, you figure this weekend will already be filled with heightened emotions so, you’re not sure if you should breach this topic so early. At the same time though, you don’t want to act like nothing’s wrong and dismiss what he’s clearly feeling.

So, you land somewhere in the middle.

Yoongi’s jaw is loaded with tension as you reach over and turn his face towards yours. He doesn’t register what you’re doing at first but he is in tune with your touch as always so, he doesn’t question it.

Leaning in, you tuck your lips between his own, whilst your free hand comes up to encase the side of his face. You feel him relax beneath your kiss, a sigh leaving his nose as he kisses you back slowly.

You pull away, pecking at his lips a few times, your thumb rubbing over his cheek.

“It’s going to be ok.” You murmur softly for the sake of his privacy, “We’re going to get through this.”

Yoongi’s eyes open just enough to show you the sheer amount of trust present in them.

He believes everything that comes out of your mouth and, despite the anxiety that’s raging inside of him, he knows you’re right.

Pressing his cheek against your hand, a soft smirk graces his lips as he resists the urge to pour his heart out to you for the millionth time.

“I wish it was socially acceptable for you to kiss me like that every time I feel like this...”

You giggle, pecking his lips again for good measure, “It would make our psych presentation really interesting that’s for sure.”

He chuckles, his face adorably smushed against your hand, “I keep forgetting that we have to do that. I don’t even remember the last time we worked on it...”

“Me neither.” You say at first before your eyes light up with realization, “Oh my god wait- the last time was when we watched that horrible spider movie at my apartment! Ugh no wonder I couldn’t remember, I’m pretty sure I've blocked those images from my mind as a coping mechanism.”

Yoongi’s face lights up along with you, “Oh shit, that’s right-” He laughs, “Did we even finish our lists?”

The two of you share another round of laughter, caught up in the ridiculous realization that you had lowkey abandoned your final project.

You lean over to pull your phone out of your purse, “Here let me check-” Scrolling through your notes app, you find the project tab before allowing your eyes to wander over it, “It looks like I still have deep water and you technically still have night clubs and horror movies. But I mean- you did perform in a night club recently so I feel like that should count.”

He nods thoughtfully before his face lights up with realization once more, “Oh yeah, I already wrote about that in the research journal, I forget to tell you. That was definitely more of a direct confrontation than I was planning.” He chuckles, “We did sit on the beach and read terrifying facts about the depth of the ocean for mine, would that be enough for you to write about?”

The two of you have maneuvered so that you’re tucked into Yoongi’s side again, his arm draping comfortably around your shoulders.

“You still have horror movies left though so, I feel like I should maybe confront one more directly too. Besides, I have a feeling that I’ll be able to distract myself in the water if you’re there-” You mumble suggestively, which causes him to smirk as he leans his head back against the seat.

“Oh yeah?” He jerks his head towards you “How so?”

Resting your face on his chest, you smile to yourself and think of a response that’s appropriate for a perfect stranger aka your cab driver, to hear.

“Cause if something touches my feet in the water, I could simply latch myself to your back for safety purposes.” You explain matter of factly.

“If something touched your foot while we were in the water, I’d swim away so fucking fast- I don’t think you’d have time to latch on.” He explains through his laughter

Scoffing, you smack your hand against his chest as you sit up fully, wiggling out of his grip, “So you’d just leave me to die???” You accuse, “Also, last time I checked- you weren’t an Olympic swimmer, what makes you think you’d just zoom out of there???”

Yoongi’s cackling at this point, his hand on his stomach, his previously tense features now smoothed out beneath his amusement, “I’m not saying I would leave you necessarily-”

“Necessarily!” You point out, laughter erupting from your lips as you pinch his side, “After everything we’ve been through, you’re really just gonna let a sea monster eat me!?”

His eyes widen, as his laughter increases, “A sea monster?! Who said anything about a sea monster? Where did they come in????”

“I said something touched my foot???? Obviously that means there is a sea monster, lurking in the depths, trying to eat me and you-” You poke his sternum, “You just said you would leave me to die!”

Yoongi’s face is reddened with the force of his own laughter, his hand subconsciously coming up to cover your own. With his eyes tearing up and his mouth parted to make way for his giggling, you can’t help but admire how beautiful he is.

Especially when he’s laughing...

He wipes his eyes with his free hand, still chuckling lightly to himself even as he brings your hand to his mouth, “Alright, alright- let's be clear- I would never leave you to die.” He promises, still smirking as he kisses the back of your hand, “Realistically, I’d probably panic and jump on YOUR back.”

With narrowed eyes, you wiggle the fingers he has pressed to his lips, “Well I don’t know how that would work out because, I’d probably you know- swim away so fucking fast that I don’t know if you’d have time to latch on...”

Yoongi snickers as you imitate his voice but, rather than retaliate he simply tugs you by the hand his currently holding and, kisses you.

It’s soft and sweet- lasting only for a few seconds until he’s pulling away.

“Thank you for coming with me.” He says suddenly, the volume of his voice decreasing significantly.

And as usual, you know that he wants to say way more than he does. But you’re perfectly fine with that.

Yoongi’s subtly is a specific brand and, you’ve grown to love how the little things he does allows him to pack so much emotion into a simple phrase.

You feel lucky to love such a special person.

“Of course.” You return his simplicity, pecking his lips once more before settling back in your original position.

The airport was a blur.

You’re thankful it passes quickly because, the process of getting through security makes you anxious.

Yoongi ushers you into your seat before taking both of your bags and, storing them in the overhead compartment. You can’t help but smile as he turns to help an older woman with her luggage as well.

He smiles ( :] ) at her, bowing his head slightly as she thanks him. Yoongi offers her a tiny wave and takes his seat beside you, not noticing the way you smile fondly at him.

When he takes his seat beside you, the two of you settle into a comfortable silence. Once the flight crew permits it, Yoongi takes his laptop out and begins toying around with one of his songs. You pull your headphones out as well and find one of your favorite playlists. Leaning back against the seat, your eyes eventually begin to droop until you can no longer keep them open.

The next thing you know, you’re being woken up by someone gently patting your thigh.

“Sleepy girl...” Yoongi croons in Korean, the sound of his voice alone making you smile, “We’re landing soon.”

Slightly disoriented, you blink your eyes a few times before you’re finally able to focus on your boyfriend’s face.

You slump against him, rubbing your cheek against the material of his hoodie. He chuckles softly, his arm sliding out from underneath you in order to drape across your shoulders.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep.” You mumble

He chuckles again, nodding with a false sense of consideration, “Ah yes, you missed so much. Two hours ago, the flight attendant came by and asked if we wanted anything to drink. It was a wild ride...”

Giggling sleepily, you shake your head at his sarcasm before pointing at his laptop.

“Were you working on your composition project?”

He bites his bottom lip and shakes his head, a bashful expression on his face “No, it was just a song I’ve been working on for a while now.”

He leaves it at that and, due to the signal from the flight crew, Yoongi begins putting his stuff away as the rest of the cabin prepares for landing.

“Are we taking the train?” You mumble, still fighting off the remnants of your nap.

Yoongi purses his lips, his eyes narrowed in concentration whilst he scrolls through his phone.

“No, I have a cab waiting for us.” He responds, “It says it’s already here. So, when you get out of customs, just meet me right outside. It should just be a straight shot from immigration.”

You nod and rest your head back against his shoulder, “Okay.”

He puts his phone away, allowing his hand to find yours. Intertwining your fingers, he takes a deep breath- his mind clearly elsewhere. You squeeze his hand to acknowledge this but, the two of you don’t comment on it.

There is no need.

With the tightening of your grip, so much has already been said.

Less than a half hour later, the two of you are once again seated in the back of the cab.

“It’s probably going to rain a lot while we’re here.” Yoongi explains, his voice low and slow, “This is Daegu’s rainy season. I’ve been checking the weather periodically and it looks like there might be a storm coming but, it doesn’t look too severe.”

You look at the window after his comment, noticing that the sky is overflowing with heavy clouds, swollen and gray with the promise of rain.

“We’re approaching monsoon season, we call it uh- jangma.” He tells you and his explanation makes you smile.

Despite the circumstances, you’re very honored and excited to be in Yoongi’s hometown. You know the memories he associates with this place are complex but, there is a shift in his tone now and, he sounds eager to teach you about this place: the place he called home for so long.

And you’d gladly listen for hours.

“Jangma-” You repeat, trying to get the pronunciation right, causing him to refocus his attention back on you. He smiles softly and nods,

“Good job.”

Your heart skips a beat at his approval as you return his smile, “Is there gonna be thunder?”

Yoongi chuckles, “Do you want there to be thunder?”

You nod eagerly, “I love storms. When I was little, I would just sit at the window and watch them go by. I’m pretty sure our neighbors thought I was crazy. But I don’t know- I've always had a thing for bad weather...”

He smirks, glancing out the window and then back at you, “That explains a lot.”

Giggling, you cock your head, “What do you mean?”

Yoongi gestures to himself, his now playful gaze looking at you expectantly. You laugh at his insinuation,

“I see the resemblance.” You concede, gently patting his cheek, “You’re not nearly as gloomy as you think you are though.”

“To you-” He retorts, “You always forget that...”

“Pleaaaase.” You disagree, “You’re soft for other people too, don’t lie. I’ve seen the way you deal with Namjoon and Hobi...”

He shakes his head, “Yeah but things are still different with you, I don’t think you realize that.”

You nudge yourself underneath his arm once more, cuddling up with him as best as you can in the back of a cab.

“I know you’re especially-” You emphasize the word, “soft for me. I’m just saying that you come across more approachable than you think you do.”

Yoongi smirks to himself, seemingly understanding something that you don’t.

“Soft is an understatement.” He retorts, turning to kiss the top of your head.

“Whateverrrr.” You tease him, your eyes trailing down to focus on his hands, “I’m still right.”

He chuckles, his figure shaking lightly beneath you, “You usually are.”

The cab pulls off of the highway, and it’s then that you begin to notice the way the scenery around you shifts from a middle class/ metropolitan vibe to something much much...fancier.

Through the winding streets, the cab begins taking the two of you up a pretty steep hill before turning onto a street full of ridiculously nice houses.

White marble, giant glass windows, and driveways filled to the brim with luxury vehicles zip by as the car turns down another street. Similar in theme but greater in size, the new street had much larger houses on more sizeable plots of land- likely designed to give the owners privacy amongst their neighbors.

You can feel Yoongi’s eyes on you then and, you know very well that he’s observing your reaction.

He knows that even though he told you his brother was wealthy that, that phrase alone wouldn’t be enough to properly convey what that entailed.

“This neighborhood is really beautiful,” You observe softly, eyes still glued to the window, “The architecture is so different than anything I’ve ever seen.”

And of course, this makes Yoongi smile.

Because of course, you aren’t making a fuss about the degree of luxury before you. You’re finding the beauty in what otherwise is a very stressful situation.

Finally, the cab pulls into a driveway right behind a black Tesla before putting the car in park.

He and Yoongi exchange a few words in Korean as Yoongi hands him a small wad of money.

“Thank you.” You murmur to the cab driver with a slight bow of your head to which he responds with a tight smile and a similar bow.

You and Yoongi unload your bags from the trunk and as he is reaching for your hand, the front door of the house swings open.

A man a few inches taller than Yoongi steps out. His black hair is neatly arranged in a middle part and he’s dressed in a beige turtleneck and white slacks. As he comes closer, the resemblance between the two of them is staggering.

“Hello!” He calls with a warm smile, his voice bright, “Welcome! Come on in, the rain is supposed to pick back up soon.”

His expression only glows as he spots his younger brother. He looks excited to see him but, his movements are apprehensive.

The unspoken tension is already present and, you can feel Yoongi almost freeze up as he draws near. Subtly, you coax him along offering his brother a warm smile as the two of you approach the landing just in front of his door.

Normally, you don’t get nervous when meeting new people but, this situation is laced with so much complexity- you aren’t sure how to act.

Thankfully Yoongi finally speaks, “Good to see you hyung. Thank you for having us on such short notice.” His tone is almost unrecognizable as he gestures to you, “This is my girlfriend Y/N. Y/N-” He gestures back to his brother, “This is my older brother Geum-jae hyung.”

Bowing your head slightly, you smile once more, “It’s very nice to meet you, thank you for having me.”

Geum-jae nods, eyeing you softly as his lips press into a tight line, “It’s so nice to meet you Y/N. I promise you, the pleasure is all mine.”

Yoongi motions for you to step in front of him so, you follow his lead and trail behind his brother through the doorway.

Geum-jae's home resembles a marble statue. It’s clean, beautiful and, elegant- but lifeless. Geum-jae has artwork of various styles all over his walls, crisp white couches, sleek granite countertops and, stainless-steel appliances however, there is not one bit of evidence that anyone even lives here. The house feels empty despite the amount of effort put into its appearance.

It makes you sad.

“You have a beautiful home.”

Your voice echoes off the dead weight of the walls, the paintings themselves seeming to arch a brow at your comment. Geum-jae however, smiles and nods graciously,

“Thank you. I just moved in not too long ago so, there is a lot I want to do. I definitely could have used this one’s expertise-” He nods to Yoongi, “He was always really good at that kind of stuff...”

Your boyfriend smirks, his eyes taking in his surroundings but failing to really focus on anything; he was too wound up, “You could have. I would have charged you though...”

Geum-jae chuckles and you see him glance at Yoongi fondly for a split second before he quickly reverts to his casual demeanor.

“I put you guys on the second floor facing the skyline-” He gestures to the ivory staircase, “I’m sure you want some time to freshen up and relax so, please take all the time you need. I’m having BBQ brought over tonight but, if you’re hungry- feel free to help yourself to whatever is in the kitchen.”

Yoongi allows you to step in front of him whilst taking the suitcase from your hands. The two men follow behind you as Geum-jae continues laying out the plans for the evening,

“I have a few virtual meetings to attend that I wasn’t able to move around but, I will be free as of 7 this evening. Until then, please make yourselves at home. I am really-” He seems to take a deep breath for emphasis, “really happy to have you here.”

“Thank you hyung.” Yoongi smiles slightly once the three of you reach the outside of the guest room, “Good luck with your meetings. Let me know if you need help with dinner.”

Geum-jae responds with a tight nod, “Will do. I’ll be in my office so, feel free to explore.” As he pushes open the door for you, he allows his own pained expression to meet yours, “I’m honored to meet you Y/N. Thank you for coming all this way with my brother.”

“Well-” You squeeze Yoongi’s hand gently, “He’s lucky I like him so much...”

Cheeks flushed, Yoongi rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but his lips are practically puckered against the smile he’s trying to stifle.

“That’s fair.” Geum-jae chuckles, “Let me know if you two need anything. I’ll just be downstairs...”

With that, Yoongi pushes open the door and allows you to step inside before following behind you.

“Wow.” You whisper to yourself as you take in the scene before you.

The walls are painted a soft gray and surrounding only three sides of the bedroom. The fourth wall is made entirely of glass and given that the house rests upon a hill, you’re able to make out the skyline of the inner city. A giant four poster bed sits in the middle of the room, covered completely in a white duvet and three rows of pillows. Dark gray curtains sit on either side of the massive window as various muted colors accent the room in the form of a dresser, two nightstands and, a set of couches at the end of the bed.

Yoongi is silent behind you as he sets the bags down at the entrance of the room. He pushes the door shut and allows his eyes to move over the space for a moment.

It's nice, he thinks, but he can’t find himself to be very impressed.

He knows where this money comes from and, even though his brother is out of the crime sector now, it still feels strange to acknowledge his wealth.

Noticing his silence, you turn towards him, eyes tracing over the features of his face to assess his mood.

With a slight and subconscious pout, he looks at you, his body seemingly full of a breath he wants to take.

“Do you want to lay down for a bit? I know you didn’t sleep on the plane.”

At your offer, he seems to deflate slightly, lips turning up at the corners, “I think I want to shower first...”

Immediately, you nod with an encouraging smile, “Yeah go shower babe, I’ll just-”

He interrupts you, sticking his hand out and flexing his fingers in a grabbing motion, “Come with me.”

His offer makes you giggle, “You want me to shower with you?”

Yoongi closes the distance between you, using his grabby hands to lock onto your hips, “No, I meant like come with me as in come watch me...yes I want you to shower with me.”

Your laughter heightens as you pinch his side, causing him to recoil before chuckling.

“You’re such a punk today...” You scold.

Yoongi simply chuckles warmly as he kisses the side of your head, the tone of his voice lowering significantly, “That usually means something to you doesn’t it?”

It does.

It usually means he’s having trouble vocalizing his needs and, he’s in need of attention. And the type of attention is usually a specific brand.

And it usually comes with a little bit of pain.

However, you don’t think it’s a good idea to indulge that side of Yoongi’s desires at the moment because, his emotions aren’t fully organized. You know the talk with his brother is causing him a lot of stress and, as much as you liked to wreck his body right now- you know it’s best to wait until later.

That doesn’t mean you can’t take care of him though...

“Come on-” You urge him, grabbing his hand and practically running towards the bathroom, “Let's get you clean, king.”

He laughs, stumbling into the bathroom which is just as nice and similarly colored as the room.

“I’m a king now?”

His question goes over your head as you notice the ridiculously oversized bathtub in the center of the room. Biting your lip, you turn towards him and point at it.

“Do you want to take a bath instead? The shower looks amazing and all but- this thing literally looks like a jacuzzi.”

Yoongi eyes it curiously, his teeth finding his bottom lip, looking a little apprehensive, “How would you want to sit in it though? I kinda uh- I kinda thought maybe we could stand under the water for a bit together, like last time...”

He wants you to hold him.

He’s not going to say it but, he needs it.

Like really bad.

You can see his nerves creeping into his posture so, you decide to act quickly before he somehow convinces himself that he’s being too needy.

Looking around the room, you spot a few things that could aid in his relaxation: candles, bubble bath, a neatly folded pile of fluffy gray towels...

“I’ll show you.” You assure him, “Close your eyes really quick- no peeking. I have a plan...”

Yoongi looks at you, suspicious all over his face, “I’m scared.”

Giggling, you raise your brows for emphasize, “Oh you should be-”

He can’t help but smirk at your tone despite the anticipation swimming in his gut. He trusts you though so, instead of arguing- he shuts his eyes.

Shuffling around the bathroom, you set things up in record time, turning the water on, pouring the rose scented bubble bath beneath the stream, and lighting a few candles along the ivory counter. Yoongi maintains his smirk the entire time, folding his arms across his chest, stifling his desire to make a snarky comment.

“Alright,” You sigh, dusting your hands off, “Ta daaaaa.”

Yoongi opens his eyes, blinking a few times before taking in the scene in front of him. It changes his smirk into a grin really quickly as his cat-like eyes flit over to you.

“Are you planning on sacrificing me?” He quips, nodding to the candles.

Snorting, you roll your eyes, “If you keep talking shit, I just might-” You threaten, laughter forming on the tail end of your sentence, “Get naked...”

Yoongi snickers, his face full of satisfaction as his finger tuck beneath his hoodie to tug it over his head. The two of you undress in a small bout of silence and attempt to sneak glances at one another’s naked form.

“I’m going to get in first and then you’re going to sit in front of me, between my legs...” You explain, trying not to shiver as the cool air of the bathroom begins to grow uncomfortable.

His brows raise, “Between your legs?” He confirms, “Say no more...”

Once again, your eyes are rolling but this time, there is a smile on your lips as you move to take your spot beneath the warmth of the water. Yoongi has to take a deep breath as he watches you, his emotions brewing dangerously beneath the surface at the sight of the woman he loves.

He still doesn’t fully understand it.

He is still meet with endless confusion when he starts to think about why you’ve chosen to be with him but, he knows better now than to question it.

You have your reasons, he thinks, and he has a million of his own.

Looking up from beneath the mountain of bubbles, you pat the top of them, looking at him expectantly, “Come here.”

He grabs the hand that you extend towards him, balancing himself on it whilst he steps into the tub. Modestly, he turns his body away from you for a second so he’s able to bend down before pivoting beneath the water and settling against your chest. The bathtub is big enough for the water to go past his shoulders and, he feels his entire body relax once he feels your body against his.

“Comfy?” You check, draping your arms across his chest.

Yoongi nods, his head leaning back and resting against your left shoulder. Once it lands there, you turn and kiss his temple which then prompts one of his hands to reach up rest on yours. Silently, you place a few more kisses against his hairline, allowing him to decompress however he wants to, not wanting to pressure him into talking about anything.

And he doesn’t, at least not for a while.

The only sounds between the two of you are the dribbling of water from the faucet and the low whisper of breathing. Every so often, you kiss his temple, just so he knows that he isn’t alone.

“Seeing my brother is really difficult.” He mumbles, eyes still closed, hand still on top of yours, “Even just seeing his face- it brings back a lot of memories.”

You nod, “I can imagine- especially since it’s been so long.”

Yoongi sighs, his eyes fluttering open and honing in on the ceiling, “I haven’t seen him since I was 18. He came to Sejin’s place just before I moved in with Namjoon. He tried to talk to me to let me know that he was leaving the business but, I barely said anything. I was too angry at him.”

Using your free hand, you rub softly at his chest under the water, silently encouraging him to continue.

“He never helped me when my father would-” He takes a deep breath through his nose, his throat bobbing as he swallows on the exhale, “the time I told you about, when my father hit me...that wasn’t the only time. It happened often towards the end.”

Your eyes shut momentarily, the pain of Yoongi being harmed stinging your heart like a shot.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper, kissing his temple again.

Yoongi’s face turns slightly into your lips, his hand squeezing over yours, “Don’t be. It was a long time ago. I held onto my disappointment in him for a while until I realized something: the only reason my father every laid his hands on me and not Geum-jae hyung was because, I stood up to him.”

“Geum-jae hyung never did and, I think he still carries that regret to this day. I can see it all over his face...” His voice is so low now that it barely makes it above a whisper, his eyes seemingly elsewhere. “Is it wrong that I feel like- like I didn’t just come here to save Sejin’s studio?”

You shake your head, “Not at all...”

He swallows again and takes another deep breath through his nose, “It’s hard you know- during winter break especially; everyone would leave campus and go home for the holidays...and I never knew where to go. For the first two years at school, I spent Christmas alone until Namjoon’s mom finally called me and told me that if I didn’t come back with him, that she was going to make him sleep outside.” He chuckles, smirking slightly at the memory.

Your heart fills with despair then. You didn’t piece it together that Yoongi would have stayed behind during the holiday season. There was so much to unpack from the tragedy that he’s endured; it didn’t even cross your mind.

“Namjoon’s mom was right to threaten you-” You affirm but then you shake your head, “I don’t think there could be a wrong reason to come here. You deserve to have whatever kind of closure or healing that you need.”

“I wish I knew what I needed...” He admits, licking his lips before turning towards you, his brown eyes holding all the emotions he can’t vocalize, “I wish everything was as easy as this.”

Following suit, you turn your head so that you’re facing him, “So do I. But I’ll always be here through all the not-so-easy stuff.”

Yoongi smiles then, soft and sweet, delivering a kiss to match. He relaxes into you, brushing his tongue along the inside of your lip just for a moment before pulling away.

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too Yoongi.”

Eventually, you both got out of the bathtub and into the shower so, that you were able to get clean properly. After a few hours of catching up on missed calls/texts and relaxing, Yoongi gets a text from his brother saying that dinner would be ready in 15 minutes.

Geum-jae had the finest BBQ in the city delivered and prepared right in his dining room. Banchan lined the center of the table, slabs of meat were grilled one right after the other until the three of you tapped out.

It passed easier than you thought it would. Yoongi and Geum-jae relaxed in the face of a meal, the conversation flowing effortlessly between them as if no time had passed. It was a touching sight to see and, you hoped that it meant their discussion would come out easier.

You take your leave after you help clean up, thanking Geum-jae for the incredible food and, letting Yoongi know that you’d be up in the room checking on something for school if he needed anything.

Which was a total lie but, you needed an excuse to leave them alone for a bit.

Yoongi feels his heartbeat pick up a bit as he watches you leave the room, the realization of what was coming finally hitting him.

“Hyung-” He wants to rip the band aid off. “Is it alright if we talk for a moment?”

Geum-jae raises his brows at the switch in languages and nods immediately, gesturing to the table, “Of course. Can we sit here? Or would you rather talk in the living room?”

Yoongi shakes his head, “Here is fine.” He sits back down in his original seat and, rubs his palms against his jeans.

Geum-jae takes a seat across from him, gazing expectantly at his younger brother, “What did you want to talk about?”

Despite Yoongi’s anxiety, he understands that being to the point would be the most effective way to communicate. He wasn’t sure if any past issues would come up but, right now his concern was on Sejin.

“I know that I told you I needed your help with something but-” Yoongi begins, “It isn’t me who needs your help exactly...it’s Sejin.”

Geum-jae purses his lips, his hands coming out to clasp rest on the table, “Is he alright?”

“The landlord for the studio he runs is increasing his rent again and, he doesn’t have the money to keep it open...” Yoongi’s explanation gets a little rushed as he gets more and more nervous, “I have some money in savings to help out with rent for the next few months but, it’s not enough to keep it open long term and-”

Geum-jae cuts him off, “Tell Sejin to call me. I will send a team to his location to sort everything out. It wouldn’t be a bad building to purchase but if Sejin is willing- then maybe he can look at other properties and I’ll have the money wired over to him.”

Yoongi can’t hide the shock on his face, “Wait- are you serious?”

“Of course. Sejin is one of my dearest friends. I owe him a lot for what he’s done over the years.”

In this moment, regret washes over Geum-jae's face, his eyes reaching out to Yoongi’s in hopes that he understands what he’s alluding to.

And obviously, he does.

“Why didn’t you just call me?” Geum-jae continues, tilting his head to get a better look at Yoongi’s expression, trying to read him, “I’ve always told you that if you ever needed anything-”

“I haven’t talked to you in 8 years hyung, I wasn’t just going to call and ask you for a favor.”

Geum-jae nods, his face tightening with solemnity, “I understand.” A brief moment of silence passes between the two of them before a sigh comes from Geum-jae, “There is so much I want to say to you Yoongi, I don’t even know where to begin...”

Yoongi stays quiet.

He doesn’t know either.

He just knows that the only way to get rid of the heaviness in his chest is to talk about it.

“I suppose I could start with an apology.” Geum-jae concludes, shaking his head as a light scoff leaves his lips, “I could never find the words to express how much regret and shame I feel inside. I could never explain how sorry I am for not protecting you, for not being a better example, for not having a backbone, for being selfish...I was blinded by greed. I couldn’t see what was in front of me.”

Yoongi swallows back his emotion, dreading the way his eyes begin to sting.

Geum-jae continues, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I just want to apologize and tell you that, even though I played no part in the man you’ve become, I am incredibly honored to call you my brother.”

It isn’t easy but, Yoongi manages to contain the tears that desperately want to fall from his eyes. His chest tightens as he hears his brother’s words. He wades through all the bitterness he feels towards him, allowing himself to feel the full force of his approval.

“I forgave you a long time ago.” Yoongi swallows, avoiding direct eye contact with him, “I just wish I understood your actions. You were my hyung, I thought you would have protected me and-” Yoongi blinks away the tears as quickly as he can, “and I still haven’t been able to accept the fact that you didn’t...”

Geum-jae shakes his head, “I wanted to protect you. I just didn’t know how- I was scared of him too. You had more courage than I did. It doesn’t excuse my actions but, it’s the truth.”

Suddenly, he reaches out and places his hand overtop of Yoongi’s, a pleading expression on his face, “That’s why you got out. That’s why you have a life. You have friends, you’re about to graduate university and, you have Y/N...” Geum-jae's voice breaks at the end, “Because of your strength, you finally found happiness.”

Yoongi looks at his hand, observing the evidence of his life present on his skin. Scars, burns, callouses, needle marks...

“Are you saying that you haven’t?” He asks, still not meeting his brother’s eyes.

“I’m not even close.”

Finally, the two meet each other's gaze. For a moment, they just stare, glistening eyes to glistening eyes. Overcome with years of repressed emotions, fueled by the desperate need to try and break the cycle, they wordlessly convey an unspoken emptiness.

They have missed each other so much.

“I am here now.” Geum-jae promises, the first tear dangerously close to falling, “Hyung is here if you’ll have him. I want to be in your life but, I understand if you want nothing to do with me.”

Yoongi blinks now, and the tears land upon his cheeks, “You’re my hyung...” And it really is a desperate proclamation, “...you’ll always be my hyung...”

The chair screeches against the tile, causing Yoongi to jump in his seat until he realizes what his brother is doing. Rounding the table, stands to the side of Yoongi with open arms and his own tears atop his cheeks.

He eyes him for only a few seconds before standing up suddenly and accepting Geum-jae into his arms. The two of them seem to collapse against one another. Yoongi breaks down and sobs in the arms of his older brother.

Just as he would have when they were young.

When times were hard and he could take shelter behind the one person who made him feel safe, the first person who ever showed him love.

“I’m so sorry Yoongi-ah.”

His words cause Yoongi to squeeze his eyes shut as he nods against the expensive fabric of his brother’s dress shirt, “I know.” He sniffles and pats his back, “I know you are.”

Meanwhile...

You’ve been upstairs, straightening up the bedroom and trying to pass the time without worrying excessively about your boyfriend’s well-being.

Which turns out to be impossible...

Cleaning around the room/bathroom only takes you about 20 minutes before your flopping onto the massive bed and, pulling out your phone. Scrolling through Tik Tok, you hope for a substantial distraction and, lucky for you- one arrives.

But, it isn’t on Tik Tok...

Jungkook: So you know Jimin right...

The text from Jungkook confuses you as you’re pretty sure it's like the middle of the night back home and, it’s not like him to text you outside of the group chat.

You: I have heard of him yes

You: Isn’t he like your boyfriend or something?

Jungkook: ha ha

Jungkook: about that

Jungkook: what if he wasn’t my boyfriend anymore?

Your eyes widen and, you immediately sit up in bed and hover anxiously over your phone.

You: !!! WHAT DO YOU MEAN

Jungkook: shhhhhh don’t yell

Jungkook: my future fiance is sleeping...

You’re about ready to get on a flight back home to kick his ass before your vision focuses on the word he’s just sent.

You: excuse me

You: YOU’RE WHAT ???????????

Jungkook: …

Jungkook: What did I just tell you smh

You: *whispers* WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT JUNGKOOK

Jungkook: -____-

Jungkook: can I call

You: ?????? Obviously!!!!

Seconds later, Jungkook’s name illuminates your screen.

“Good evening,” He begins calmly, “I’m having a panic attack...”

You giggle, “What’s going on????”

“Well you see- I am in love with Park Jimin and I fear it may be terminal.”

“Terminal huh? Is that how you describe a lifelong partnership with your one true love?”

“...yes.”

“Jungkook,” You urge him through your laughter, “What is going on?”

You hear him sigh, “I think I’m going to ask Jimin to marry me.”

Squealing, you jump up on your knees, “Wait seriously?! Jungkook!”

“Yah! Don’t yell at me! This is all your fault!”

“My fault??? How is this my fault?”

“Well technically I guess- it's Yoongi’s fault because, he’s the one that convinced me to get in touch with my feelings or whatever- either way, I am STILL the victim. And now I want to be with him forever and it’s disgusting...”

You flop back against the pillows and laugh again, “If Jimin knew this was how you were telling people you were proposing, he would kill you.”

He doesn’t hesitate, “He’s going to kill me either way Y/N...it’s bad- the other day, he sent me a selfie and, I had heart palpitations for like 15 minutes.”

“If your man doesn’t give you heart palpitations then, that isn’t your man.” You conclude.

“Y/N...” Jungkook whines now, sounding very much like the boy you met back in middle school.

“Jungkook...” You whine back causing him to finally chuckle on the other end of the line.

“I’m scared...”

“I know but, you and Jimin are so perfect for each other, there is no way that this wouldn’t work out.”

“More perfect than you and Yoongi?” He teases, reverting back to being a little shit.

And his question makes you scoff, “Oh sweetheart- obviously not. But second place isn’t bad!”

He laughs now and it’s the full bellied sound that you love hearing.

“You really think we’re perfect together?”

Despite his inability to see you, you smile at his need for validation,

“Duh. You two are literally soulmates.”

Jungkook is quiet on the other line but when he speaks again, you can hear the giddiness in his voice, “Ok so...will you help me then???”

Back downstairs, Yoongi and Geum-jae are sat at the bar in front of the window that faces his backyard. As he predicted, the rain came back in full force and is now propelling itself against the clean glass. After their emotional encounter in the dining room, Geum-jae suggested that they have a drink together and relax for a moment.

He had poured each of them a glass of wine, ensuring not to fill his glass up too much.

“Your girlfriend is a wonderful woman; you made a good choice.”

At the mention of you, Yoongi’s lips twitch, his eyes watching the droplets of water chaotically race down the window, “Thank you. But, it was her who chose me, I’m still working out exactly why.”

Geum-jae chuckles, “I see you’re still selling yourself short ah? Did you two meet at school?”

Yoongi smirks, “Yeah, we met 6 months ago in my psychology class. She was my partner on our final project.”

“Ah.” He nods, “Things blossomed that way then?”

Yoongi’s heart throbs a bit as his brain begins its recollection of his time with you.

So much has happened during your relationship, he forgets that he hasn’t known you all his life.

It certainly feels like he has.

“Yeah.”

Geum-jae chuckles, “You’re so reserved about her.”

Yoongi knows what he means. In the Min family, you always say things as they are. You don’t sugarcoat your sentiments and you definitely don’t play coy.

“I can’t help it-” He admits, and he can feel the heat on his cheeks now, “I find it difficult to talk about her...”

His brother bites his bottom lip, unable to help how endeared he is, “Can I ask why?”

Yoongi leans his cheek against the palm of his hand, still focusing on the rain, “It’s overwhelming.”

Geum-jae seems to understand but he chuckles anyway, “Do you plan on marrying her?”

His question hangs in the air for a moment. Yoongi’s brain once again travels elsewhere, and he is bombarded with images of you walking down the aisle. He has to take a deep breath as he forces the thoughts out of his head; he’s cried enough this evening.

“I would marry her tomorrow.”

Geum-jae's laughter increases now but now it bubbles over his lips in an excited fashion.

“Yahhhh! Look at that eh?” He congratulates him, “It’s safe to say you’re off the market for good then? Because I have a few of my friends who have been asking about you.”

This finally makes Yoongi laugh as he turns towards him, “That’s flattering.” He means it too but, he speaks the next set of words with all of the conviction he can muster, “There is no one else for me though.”

Geum-jae grins proudly and with a raise to his brows, he lifts his glass, “Well, let’s drink to that then.”

The clinking of crystal signifies so much. For now though, Yoongi allows it to represent the future and, all of the possibilities it may bring.

#ficswithluv #yoongi #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi fics #yoongi fanfics #yoongi fic recs #yoongi fanfiction #bts yoongi #min yoongi #suga #min suga #agust d #agust d fics #yoongi x reader #boyfriend! yoongi #yoongi cute #yoongi hot

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barzzal · 4 years

Text

when the ball drops

summary: out of all the times you wanted to bail, for once you were certainly glad you didn’t ditch this year’s new year’s eve party.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: language, parties, drinking, flirty banters + a smitten mat (set in a pandemic free au)

↳ genre: fluff, meeting a total stranger, early 2000’s romantic/comedy typa thing (what i think at least)

↳ length: imagine; 5.9k

↳ masterlist: the barn

note: this is an entry for @hockeynetwork’s winter fic exchange and i was matched as @bqstqnbruin’s secret santa! i genuinely hope you get to enjoy this, boo!! i wanna thank a few mutuals, @tkachukme @calgarycanuck @pizzarandomness (esp @thirteenisles !!) for helping me out so i could get thru with writing this imagine! you guys are so nice i truly appreciate all of you. happy holidays & happy new year, everyone! 💕 (gif used: mine)

Every year you swear to yourself that you would spend the New Year’s at home, eating a peaceful dinner by yourself and maybe enjoy a good bottle of wine whilst you spend the whole night watching The Holiday. But just like all the other years you have spent alone since you’ve moved to New York, you end up breaking that same promise, pretty much with the help of your two best friends Emma and Katie.

Now, instead of being curled up in your living room, wearing your favourite knitted sweater and away from all the New Year chaos happening all at once in the very best place to celebrate such a festive occasion, here you are, getting your second glass of vodka tonic as you wait for the goddamn ball to drop.

The local bar has always been crowded especially during this time of the year. You and your friends already made it an annual thing which is probably the reason why despite the yearning you have for the idea of spending it all alone, you couldn’t find enough courage to ditch them and disappear even just for one night.

“Where are the girls?” Gavin, the owner of the bar whom you’ve already befriended due to the amount of times you and the girls spent helping him close up was busily wiping the counter when you sat in your usual seat.

You casually motioned your hand to where you left Emma and Katie, dancing with men they’d most certainly end up kissing once the clock strikes twelve.

“Alone again? You’ve got to blow off some steam, y/n.” He greets you with a concerned look exuding from his virile exterior. You idly shake your head, giving him a tight smile to reassure him that you were doing okay.

“It’s not that big a deal.” is the usual thing you say to people when your being ‘alone’ on the holidays becomes in question. “Besides, I’m a big girl, Gavs.” You proudly announce, leaning against the bar with your palm resting underneath your chin.

“I know you’re a ‘big girl’.” He rolls his eyes before his gaze trails off to your friends and then landing onto a couple of young lads from across the room. “I’m just saying, loosen up. Meet people. It feels nice to have someone holding you close at night so don’t be too hard on yourself.”

A snort bursts from you as soon as you hear the words leave Gavin’s mouth. Who would have known a guy as tough-looking as him would be too much of a softy underneath?

“What?” He holds his guard as he continues making your drink. The liquid swirling around a few ice cubes and a shot of liquor.

“Nothing, nothing. I just– I didn’t think you were one of those people.” You say, clearing your voice once you’ve finally gathered yourself. “You know, the sappy romantics.”

Gavin looks at you, giving you an ‘Oh, please.’ look. “No, ‘cause that’s where you’re wrong.” He protests. “I’ve always been this soft, “sappy romantic” kinda guy. You just choose to see me the way you see me; a typical macho man who hands you good drinks.” He pauses, finishing off with the last touches of your drink. “But you know what? That’s fine. ‘Cause that’s how I know you’re just like me.” He then slides the cold drink towards you.

“What do you mean?” You were intrigued to be fair. You already had your head tilted to the side trying to piece something that could justify what he just said.

“That.” He looks at you, index finger circling before your eyes to make his argument even more compelling. “You act like a strong independent woman, which by the way you still are,– but you have to admit that you do want someone who’s gonna want to spend his New Year’s watching that dumb old movie of yours.” He says with a grin before he pours another customer a shot of tequila.

You were sure you wanted to just shrug it off, but somehow, you can’t help but think of how his words hit you in the subtlest way. Each word bearing an insane amount of possibilities of him being right all along.

But what’d he know anyway? It’s not like he knew you better than anyone else. Maybe it’s just his way with words. Or maybe he’s just that good. After all, that’s basically the reason why he’s running a goddamn bar, right?

𖥸

It wasn’t Mat’s first time spending New Year’s away from his family but if he only had a choice, he’d certainly take the next plane with no question. However, given how the team’s fight for the Cup is going stronger than the last season, he couldn’t bring himself to risk going away and missing out on his usual routines. So, for the past couple of weeks he’d let himself be stuck with Beauvillier throughout the holidays.

Now, for the sake of festivities, the two decided it’d be best to come out to the city and have fun welcoming the New Year along with some good friends that were surprisingly available at the last minute. That being said, the local bar was already the third one they’ve gone to having started the drinking binge earlier than intended.

“Happy New Fucking Year, Motherfuckers!” The loudest and perhaps, the drunkest man cheered at the center of the dance floor, holding up his drink carelessly as he danced to the mind numbing EDM coming off from the DJ’s booth.

“Way to get wasted. Am I right?” Dan says as he stands to gather everyone and clink their beer mugs for the nth time.

“Somebody’s definitely gonna miss the ball drop.” Tito snides, referring to the drunken man cheering tirelessly. Mat shakes his head and idly laughs. Their glasses meet halfway, causing some of the beer to spill over the table. The loud music and cheers echoed in Mathew’s ears, finding the whole scene a little too overwhelming despite how he liked to loosen up with bottomless drinks coming his way.

Somehow, he was thankful that he needed a second to breathe which only meant having to take his eyes off of the same guys he hangs with on and off the ice. Because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to see someone so beautiful yet seemingly out of place when his gaze landed onto that one girl sitting by the bar all by herself at what seems to be the loudest pub in the city.

“God, she’s pretty.” The words unknowingly slip off his tongue, making him realize he’s announced his thoughts out for the group just enough to make their brows quirk at the now out-of-reach Mathew.

“What?” Anthony leans closer to him so as to give himself a view of what Mat had his eyes peeled for.

“That girl by the bar, she’s— she’s really pretty.” Mathew says, completely sure that he has never said anything true in his life. Much to his surprise, the boys gathered around and turned their heads towards the girl sitting by the bar.

“So? Go and talk to her, man.” Anthony casually proposes with a nudge, urging him to go after her.

Mathew immediately lets out a foolish scoff and chooses to gulp a large amount of liquor from his mug.

“Yeah, just go for it. What’s the worst thing that could happen?” Tyson chides, looking at the girl who has utterly made their night a little more interesting. That being said, being stuck with the three biggest blokes wasn’t that too interesting to begin with.

“Oh, worst thing? She could hear me!” Mat runs a hand through his hair, incapable of taking his eyes off of her even just for a second.

“You know if you don’t, I will.” Tyson puts his beer down and acts as if to make the move Mathew was too hesitant to do himself in order to boost his mate.

“Fuck off. Fine. Hold my beer.” Mat rolls his eyes and shoves Tyson his mug before gathering himself by straightening creases off his suit along with a few sharp breaths to ease out the nervousness he’d been feeling.

You watch the teeny tiny leaf of mint swirl around the whirl of liquor you’ve successfully made, ignoring all the background noise, still evidently fixated on the words Gavin has left you with earlier. Has it really been that long since you allowed yourself to be fully vulnerable around someone?

A sad smile escapes your lips, one that made the man that was now towering all over you wonder what could have possibly caused such melancholy on the most beautiful girl he has seen all throughout the city. That’s a rather heavy way to put it but that doesn't mean he was lying. He did find you really pretty. Maybe even a little too much and too out of his league.

A tap on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts.

“Hi.” He says, gray eyes illuminated by the strobe lights hitting your direction. You give him a tight smile, acknowledging his presence and frankly even the boldness he had to strike up a conversation.

“I just wanted to ask if what you’re drinking is any good.” Mat subconsciously reprimands himself for coming up with what is yet to be the lamest thing he’s ever told a girl.

Great. Now, you’re asking her if a vodka tonic is good? As if it could get any better? He thinks to himself. So, to compensate and reduce further damage, he plays it off by laughing quite sheepishly as he absent-mindedly massages his nape.

Noticing what the man was doing, you let out a shy laugh too, biting your lower lip as you find his foolish attempt of hitting on you quite adorable.

“Wow. You’re really good at this.” You tease, now giving away a playful smile, poking at his middle school pick up line.

Mathew chuckles. His doe eyes shy and alienated by the confidence he certainly knew he had not until a few seconds ago when he met yours. “I swear I’m better than this.” He tries again, this time earning himself a soft giggle from you.

Atta boy, Mat.

“I’m Mat by the way. Mathew Barzal.”

He reaches out his hand which you gladly took. It was calloused and rough around the edges whilst Mat found yours completely fitting in his. Your eyes meet halfway as you both shook each other’s hands. Fingers lingering quite longer than it should be.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“So, you’re telling me you haven’t had a tonic before?” You ask him, hands now all to yourselves. Mat leans against the bar, his elbow resting on the counter, unable to suppress the embarrassment now dawning on him upon remembering his little set back.

“I’m sort of a vodka tonic connoisseur.” He kids in an attempt to redeem himself. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad.”

You look at him, shaking your head at how unbelievably gorgeous this man is. “Fine. It wasn’t. I’ll give you that.”

“So,” He takes a deep breath before taking one of the empty seats beside you. “I– I can’t help but wonder, I mean– if it’s not too forward of me, how come you’re drinking alone on New Year’s?”

You take a sip off of your drink and faintly shake your head, dismissing his query. “Hmm. Actually, no.”

Mathew muttered an “oh.” at the thought of hearing what he thinks you’re about to say next. To his surprise, and frankly feeling as if a weight had been lifted off his chest, you motion towards your best girls, Emma and Katie who were now obviously way too fond of the guys they just met.

“See those girls?”

Mathew nods, the answer to his question now becoming much clearer and put together. An answer that absolutely went along with his cards well.

“Those are two of the most important persons in my life going at it at a New Year’s Eve Party.”

“Would it be wrong to ask why aren’t you ‘going at it’ like how they’re doing it now?”

Is he always this formal? You think, lips curving to a grin.

“What?” He asks when he sees the expression (he can’t quite put a finger on) on your face.

“Nah. I’m all good. I mean, not that I don’t want to. I just–” You pause. Unsure of whether telling him the truth would do your case any better. What’s there to lose anyway? He’s just some guy you’re bound to meet at the bar. It’s not like you didn’t anticipate a scenario like this from happening, right?

“Just take me as someone who isn’t really fond of big parties,” he then cuts you off and finishes your sentence, “But still go anyways.”

“Exactly.”

Gavin pops in for a bit, handing Mathew a bottle of beer he was certain of not ordering. He looks at him puzzled. A silent question that Gavin answered with a wink before getting back to tending to his alcohol induced customers.

Apparently, it’s on the house.

“How come you’re here chatting with me when your friends are all the way there?” You motion towards a curly haired man and the other boys across the room. One was even smiling at you but you just opted on giving him a nod before turning your head back towards Mathew.

“Well, I didn’t like the idea of having you celebrate the New Year’s alone.” He honestly says. But since you were the kind of person who wasn’t the best at taking any type of compliment nor flirty exchanges like a normal person would, you roll your eyes and be the blunt person you were always known for. “Oh. I thought you saw a girl sitting alone at the bar and saw that as an opening.”

To be fair, Mat wasn’t really intimidated by your remark. In fact, he actually liked how straight forward you were with him. You didn’t look at him the way he’s gotten used to whenever he comes up and introduces himself to other girls; something that only made him more interested in you. He can’t help but want to know what exactly is going on in your mind. Not the creepy kind, of course. Just the one where he’d rather spend the New Year’s getting to know a total stranger than getting insanely pissed with the same men he’s spent most of his days with.

“That too.” He admits, taking a sip off his beer without breaking his eyes off you.

There was a sheer silence for a moment. The kind that Mat knew was much deafening than the booming sound of the usual dreadful New Year’s Eve Party. “So tell me,” Mat regains himself, catching your attention once again. “What would you rather be doing tonight? You know, if you hadn’t had to come out here.”

He watches your lips quirk thinking about what it was that you actually wanted to do tonight. Then again, you only had one thing in mind.

“I kinda wanted to spend it alone for the past three years.”��

“That long? How come?”

“Well, you know, for some peace and quiet. Maybe watch a movie or two.”

Like what he has been doing since the moment he’d gone to talk to you, he watches you run your fingers around the rim of your cold drink. Evidently immersed in your own thoughts from trying to piece out the real reason behind your grave wanting to spend the occasion alone.

Turning the tables, you ask the same question back, “What about you? I mean, other than getting shit faced, what would you rather be doing?”

Mathew takes a deep breath trying to suppress the longing he’s felt for the past few weeks. He just misses his family so much that he couldn’t help but wonder how they’re doing even if he’s constantly kept in touch with them hours before he’d gone out with the boys.

“I’ll be with my folks. You know, all that usual family stuff.” He answers you shortly.

You didn’t think much of what he’s told you so you just tell him the very thing that crossed your mind. “You know, it’s amazing how two people who didn’t even want to be here find each other just so they could bitch about not wanting to be here a little bit more.”

The two of you share a good laugh, utterly and undeniably enjoying each other’s company. It didn’t feel weird having to talk to a total stranger, let alone let them have bits and pieces of yourself that only enables them to put together an image of you that isn’t even as close to who you really are. Regardless of that notion, there was something about how Mathew connected with you, and how you connected with him.

It was far from being the movie type of thing, but you have to admit, the remainder of the time you two have spent talking over a half empty bottle of beer and a glass of vodka tonic has definitely made the two of you feel this unexplainable wanting of having to learn more about each other. That being said, when all drinks were drunk till its last drop, Mathew couldn’t help himself from wanting to spend a bit more time with you. Maybe, even the whole night if you’d only let him.

“D’you want to get out of here?” He shoots his shot as quickly as he could, afraid that losing even just a second would mean losing a night of spontaneity with you.

You have long waited for a reason to miss the annual party. And if that meant having to wait three years just so you could stumble upon a tall and fairly handsome man that was going to save you from a dreadful evening, nothing would’ve felt as right as this if it weren’t for the push Mat had stored in his piercing eyes and mischievous grin.

You didn’t have to give it much thought. After spending a whole hour exchanging little trivias of yourselves, Mat finally had it easy in making a riveting case. You sigh in defeat as you fish out a few cash from your purse and slide it into your tab.

Excitement now exuding from Mathew, he bobs his brows up and down whilst he watches you roll your eyes once again for the hundredth time tonight. “I’m gonna hate you for this.” You tell him as you get off the bar stool.

Mat hurriedly signals Tito for his coat to which he was able to catch the moment he had tossed it towards his way. He then gets yours that was placed on the back of your seat before finally following you out towards the door.

“I highly doubt that.”

𖥸

Mathew draped your coat over your shoulders, helping you to slip into it. You politely say your thanks and hold your purse close, your gloves gripping onto the leather as the two of you stroll the streets of New York, the winter breeze brushing on your cheeks with every stride you make.

“So,” You begin, putting both of your hands inside your coat pockets. “Where are you taking me, Mat?”

He tries to think for a second. The thought of not having a concrete plan for the night finally dawns on him. He clicks his tongue and breathes in the familiar scent of the city. Mathew looks around the block and spots the good old food truck he and the boys once tried when they were out for an away game with the Rangers.

“How about New York’s finest burrito?” He points to where the truck was parked, clueless to how his sudden movement placed him inches closer to you. You didn’t notice it until you looked at him for his eyes were still pinned to where the truck was at.

Mat’s eyes were pretty. That’s a known fact. But what you didn’t realize was how astonishing they are not until you got this close. You took in the sight sitting before you as fast as you could while he was still preoccupied like a five-year-old kid seeing an ice-cream truck pass by the neighborhood. Your eyes linger from his well structured brows, his unbelievably long lashes, down to the tip of his nose and his rosy cheeks before finally settling down to his cherry plump lips. All of which were more than enough to send butterflies in your stomach.

“O-Okay.” You agree. Mathew takes you by the hand before you can even say a word. Thank the gods for letting you live in a city that seems to never stop the hustle to still have open food trucks good for a quick bite at this time of the night close into New Year’s.

“Hey, bud. Two sixes to go, please.” Mathew says politely once he knocks on the window.

“You’ve got to try this, I swear.” He looks back at you with the same warm smile beaming on his face.

“Unless you want a proper meal? I mean, there’s a diner down the–” You immediately cut him off and take out your purse, offering to pay for it instead. “No! It’s fine, really. I’m a bit hungry myself.”

After spending the whole time waiting for the wrapped snack, arguing on who would be paying, you let Mathew have this one for now even if you didn’t like others paying for what you can pay yourself.

You take a good look at your watch and see that you only have about an hour left till midnight. An idea pops in your head, making you gasp at the thought. Mathew looks at you with a half-eaten burrito in his hand, his brows all furrowed as if to ask a piece of your mind.

“Come on, I know where we should go.”

𖥸

Mathew never thought he’d found himself standing on a rooftop of a random building overlooking the Empire State during one of the coldest times in the city. The things that has only kept him sane was the girl who was still holding his hand, the city lights that have always left him in awe, and of course, the well heated rooftop.

There have been a few exchanges that are quite notable over the time you’ve spent with Mathew. He’s told you about the usual night outs he and the boys have for leisure, the family he had back in Coquitlam, how much he misses his mom and his sister, and how much love he has for hockey that he ended up doing the thing he loved most for a career.

Him, on the one hand, pretty much learned the same stuff about you. Well, almost, for he has yet to ask you the one thing that has been bugging him off all night.

You were telling him how this was your safe haven in the city and how much you loved going here every time you felt like needing to take a deep breath and step back from the world when he asked you a simple question. One that’s absolutely left you surprised (and a little bit impressed) that he still even remembered it at this point.

“What’s the movie about? You know, the one you’ve been wanting to see tonight.” He asks, both of his hands inside his pockets to keep warm.

The two of you sat on the bench facing thousands of lights illuminating the whole city. You look at him for a second, biting your lip as you contest with yourself, the thought of Mat being the kind of douché that would shit around women and their romantic comedy films comes rushing to you like a cold December breeze.

“Alright, why do you want to know?” You pass the ball back to his court. To which Mat shortly answers with a level-headed sigh. “I kinda get the feeling it has something to do with the three-year thing.”

“You’re nosy.” You kiddingly say, earning a chuckle from him.

“You’ve spent the whole night walking with me and I can barely even feel my legs anymore, y/n. Trust me, between you and me, you know you’re the nosy one.” The two of you share a small laugh, your voices are the only sound that can be heard besides the sleepless city acting as a white noise to you and Mathew’s little bubble.

“Fine. And you’re a fucking athlete, so don’t even start.”

You playfully give him a nudge on the shoulder when he starts mimicking what you say. Mat stops immediately and looks at you with the same doe eyes glinting under the security lights that the rooftop had. He then patiently waits for you to gather your thoughts, breathing in all of New York as he lets himself drown in your presence.

You didn’t know how but there was this unspeakable comfort you feel around Mat. Sure, he was just a total stranger you’ve met a few hours ago, but no one, not even the guy who dumped you after your five-date rule, was able to connect with you at the same level as Mathew did.

“It’s not that I want to see it so bad. I’ve watched it for like– a reasonable amount before it became my comfort movie. Plus, it’s literally called The Holiday. Why wouldn’t you want to see it during the holiday?”

You tell him a bit more of how you’ve come into liking it, stalling him from the real reason why you wanted to celebrate the New Year’s alone. But you know, that even after all the circles you’re willing to go through just to keep Mat at bay, you’re bound to lose all your strings and resort to telling him in the end. You just hope you wouldn’t be making the same mistake you’ve made three years ago.

You told Mathew about your on and off childhood sweetheart Claude who has always kept you high and dry throughout the years of being together. (That is if you were in fact together.) He was the constant reminder that you will never be the kind of person someone would want to stick around with.

You and him go a long way. You both ended up going to the same university because he just had to have you around and that he couldn’t afford not being with you even just for a second. He said that he couldn’t take the thought of having to see you only on the holidays so as the dumb kid you once were, your feet followed his everywhere he’d gone.

That cycle went on and on until you finally had the courage to leave everything behind and move to New York. Months as a new kid in the city, you were scared, of course. You spent your days hanging around your apartment, doing all sorts of crap you can even think of just so you wouldn’t have to leave your flat. Although, meeting Emma and Katie was the biggest push you needed to finally let yourself let loose. Long story short, at the first New Year’s Eve Party you’ve ever gone to after moving in the city, the person you least expected to see was the very first one to come out of Gavin's bar. Claude.

Just like what a normal person would do, the two of you sat down and caught up. Pretty much the same thing you’ve gone with Mathew. Although only a lot less chit chat and a lot more kissing.

Claude told you his real intentions. He said that he wanted to start something with you for real. Of course, you had let him but you have made the biggest mistake of telling him about your five-date rule.

Lo and behold, Claude did stick around for the fifth date. That being said, he had stayed only for the fifth date. You saw him sneaking out of your flat so early in the morning, leaving you nothing but a voicemail that said his foolish reasons and insincere apologies. Since then, after a lot of major hook ups here and there, you’ve never let yourself become as vulnerable and stupid as you once were with the biggest douche you’ve ever met.

“It’s crazy, I know. You can laugh about it.” You say when Mat hasn’t spoken for a few seconds.

He takes a glance at you, a tight smile on his face. “I don’t think it’s crazy. That man is crazy. And also, a big prick. Classic dick move.” He tells you before he turns his eyes back to the city.

“Well, yeah. That’s me. That’s the holiday story.”

“A crappy one, of course.” You add.

Mat shakes his head no. He didn’t know why exactly but all he wanted to do at that moment, a few seconds before New Year’s, was to give you something,– even just a memory you could look back on. That that story isn’t going to be the one you’d be remembering for the next holidays. He wanted his to be something that’ll make your three-year-old crappy story long gone and forgotten. That his version would be the one that’s stuck.

“Definitely not this one.”

As the clock strikes twelve, cheers erupted throughout New York along with fireworks shooting into the city’s midnight sky. The first thing you see upon looking back were the same kind eyes of the man whom you have randomly met at the party you dreaded most. Only this time, drowning you little by little as it becomes iridescent under the thousands of lights covering New York City.

You were frozen to your seat as Mat’s face inch closer to yours. You feel his breath against your cold skin as if it was lulling you to sleep. His hands find its way to your face, cupping both of your cheeks rather gently as he finally paints a new memory you’d be carrying for the rest of your holidays.

“Happy New Year.” He greets you, almost like a faint whisper whilst the two of you gasp for breath. You blink a few times just to process what had just happened and digest how unbelievably good that kiss was.

Mathew’s hands were still on your cheeks. You held them close so he’d know you weren’t ready to let go. You take a deep breath, gathering enough courage to ask him an unusual way of greeting someone a Happy New Year.

“Will you walk me to my car?”

𖥸

You have both of your hands tucked inside your coat pockets as you walked the street leading to where you left your car. Mat was just telling you about the game happening next Thursday against the Bruins and how it would mean a lot to him if you’d come and see him play.

“To be fair, the Bruins are good.” You commented, a playful smirk plastered on your face rather teasingly.

Mathew lets out a snort as he rolls his eyes, chuckling at the thought of you dissing on his team the moment you had the chance. “Hey, both teams are good.”

“It’s just the matter of who’s better.” You finish his sentence, yet again working your way with a clever remark. Mat hums, not necessarily agreeing with your sentiment.

“So will you come?” He asks again just so he could hear you say yes. You take a deep breath, not letting yourself think too much of the said invitation. If you’re going, you’re going as a friend. Actually, you weren’t even sure if you could even call yourself such a label.

You nod your head yes to which had become the reason of Mathew’s glee. The two of you walked side by side in peace, basking in the comfort of each other’s presence.

Once the rush of excitement about you coming to one of his games starts to wear down, Mathew begins to feel the weight of walking befall on him as it grows quicker with each step he takes. With his brows meeting halfway, he looks at you, eyes evident with confusion.

“Where did you park your car exactly? I feel like we’re walking straight to Long Island.” He chortles, scratching his temple quite adorably.

You bit your lower lip as you looked up at him. Mathew’s physique towering over yours. “I uh– I took a cab to the party. My car’s actually parked outside my apartment.” You admit with a shy laugh.

Mat’s mouth went agape upon hearing you confess; awkward silence envelops the two of you with every second spent not talking to one another. Not long after, he decides to break the ice, undeniably impressed at how he’d never seen it coming.

Clever. He thinks, incapable of stopping his gut from swirling. His smile widens when he sees you looking at him; unfazed and perhaps, enamoured.

𖥸

Mat did walk you to your car. The two of you exchange your thank you’s; utterly grateful for what has to be the best New Year’s you had in years.

You wanted to ask him for one last cup of coffee because the last thing you wanted him to do was leave. But after all the things you’ve gone through with the man within such a short amount of time (and frankly, even a tedious walk) you still failed to muster enough courage to stop him from doing so.

Once you see him get in the lone cab that miraculously passed by your neighborhood at such an ungodly hour, you close the door behind and head straight to your flat.

You get home to the sight of your weighted blanket spread over your couch along with a couple of pillows that seems to be the best place to bury yourself in after a tiresome night out. Things were just as they were left hours ago; prepped for a much awaited movie night. As planned, you quickly get out of your winter clothes, head for a quick shower, before finally slipping into some comfortable nightwear.

You were just finishing up putting the bowl of popcorn and a bottle of Chardonnay on top of the coffee table when a buzz coming from the intercom catches your attention.

Once your hands were free, you quickly made your way towards the box, a bit irked at the thought of Katie and Emma ruining your long-overdue New Year agenda upon remembering how she’d told you to let her in the building just in case Katie gets a little too overboard.

“Emma, I’m about to watch Jude Fucking Law. Just come up!” You hurriedly say, turning your head back to the screen which already had the movie on pause.

However, instead of Katie’s whiny and drunken voice, what you heard was the same familiar chuckle that had been cruising your mind all night.

“You know, I don’t think I mentioned that I haven’t watched The Holiday. Is Jude Fucking Law any good?” He asks. A mental image of how his eyes crinkle when he laughs comes to mind upon hearing his voice.

Once again, pretty much like how you’ve spent the whole evening with Mathew, a wide smile lets loose as you press the black button. “Come on up.”

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #letters to barzy #barzzal imagines

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

Text

By My Side (Part 9)

Summary: The reader and Jensen have a relaxing afternoon where they discuss their future with one another...

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader

Word Count: 2,000ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Please enjoy the final part! I had a lot of fun with this series!

_________

One Month Later

“Hey Mikey,” you called from the hammock you were sharing with Jensen in the backyard. He popped his head up from one of the patio loungers, his head deep in a legal brief. “Don’t you have a date tonight?”

“She’s coming over later for the party,” he said, going back to work.

“Did you clear that with head of security?” asked Jensen.

“Head of security can suck my dick,” said Michael as he flipped a page.

“Suck your own. I set you up on this date you know,” you said.

“Ah, this is what I missed,” said your dad as he sat at the table playing a game of chess against Chuck.

“If you can imagine they were worse as teenagers,” said Chuck, moving a piece. “You were planning to have more, weren’t you?”

“We were discussing it. Y/N kept asking for siblings,” he said. “Glad she found some.”

“They never got on very well until recently,” said Chuck.

“Dysfunctional family is kind of our thing,” said Michael, reviewing another paper. Your mom took a sip of her drink, giving Brian a smile. You saw him go to hold her hand under the table but he hesitated, your mom taking his anyways. She rested her feet over Chuck’s lap and you shook your head.

“They’re so loud,” you mumbled to Jensen. You curled into his chest and he gave your waist a light squeeze.

“They’re alright,” he murmured against your neck. “Wait until you meet my family.”

“God I hope they aren’t crazy like mine,” you said.

“No one’s quite at that level,” he chuckled. “They’re not crazy. Just...odd.”

“Your family or mine?”

“Probably both,” he said. “Want to go for a walk before the party?”

“Sure,” you said. You both rolled out of the hammock and said you’d be back soon, Jensen taking your hand as you walked to the front of the house. A car pulled up at the new gate and you let it in, smiling as you saw Nick and his friend climb out of the car.

“How was the flight?” you asked as he stretched out.

“Good. This is Spencer. Spence, Y/N and her boyfriend bodyguard, Jensen,” said Nick.

“Nice meeting you guys,” he said. “Nick says you’re why Y/N’s dad is back in the picture?”

“Something like that,” said Jensen. “We’re gonna take a quick walk but feel free to show Spencer around the house or take a dip in the pool.”

“We’ll start cooking in about an hour but snack on whatever you like,” you said. You and Jensen gave them a quick wave before you were walking down the street, Doug whistling from his driveway.

“You two kids staying out of trouble?” he asked.

“Only the bad kind,” said Jensen. “See you and the girls at the party in a bit.”

You hummed as you walked, Jensen squeezing your hand when a car went past.

“Your bodyguard rules are a tad conflicting you know,” you said, smiling at him. “Put you between me and a vehicle but if we’re walking on a city street, put myself closer to the street and you closer to alleyways.”

“Not confusing at all. You stay away from the danger,” he said. “I let you slide on some stuff.”

“I have sex with you, Ackles.”

“I know and I wanna keep doing that so I let you slide,” he teased. He bopped your nose and you laughed, slowing down a bit as you hit the quiet stretch of road with lots of trees around. “I was talking to Chuck earlier. He no longer hates me.”

“See? I told you he’d come around.”

“Strong disdain was now in play,” said Jensen. “I still can’t believe I fucked up like that.”

“Well first off, Chuck doesn’t have the high and mighty card to play. His own sons thought for a split second he was capable. Even mom.”

“How’d the family therapy session go this week?” he asked.

“Okay. The boys all cried. Mom and I aren’t gonna go unless they ask us to anymore. Everyone seems okay,” you said.

“Your dad and Chuck are getting along pretty good now,” he said.

“I don’t know what those three are going to do, honestly. She loves them both still.”

“Sometimes love isn’t enough,” said Jensen.

“I disagree with that sentiment. Sometimes you have to choose if love is more important than other things, things that might be just as vital as love. But I don’t agree that loving someone alone isn’t enough,” you said.

“Quite a hopeless romantic you are,” he said. He threw his arm over your shoulders and kissed the top of your head. “Anyone in particular you’re loving these days?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you said with a shrug. Your face felt hot, Jensen slowing his walk to almost a crawl.

“I’m not afraid of you running off on me,” he said. “Not after everything.”

“Good cause you’re important to me,” you said.

“That what we’re calling it?” he said, your arm sliding around his back, hand settling on his waist.

“Shut up,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder. You snuggled him for a brief moment before you started walking again, Jensen’s hand grazing your cheek.

“You’re important to me too,” he said quietly.

“Okay,” you said. You smiled and you both moved your arms so you could go back to holding hands, Jensen taking his baseball cap off his head and putting it on backwards on your own.

“Can I tell you about what happened to me sometime?” he asked. You turned your head towards him, Jensen shrugging. “You know...the not so great stuff with Hall and all that.”

“Always. I’d never tell a soul,” you said.

“It’s probably not as horrible as whatever you’ve dreamed up in your head,” he said. “But I don’t want you to worry about it anymore. I’m not so scared of you changing your mind about me if you hear it now.”

“I just want to be able to help you the way you’ve helped me,” you said. “That’s what we do.”

“True. I’m still your bodyguard though,” he chuckled.

“Yeah but that’s like an assumed role with you being my boyfriend anyways. I feel like you’ll always be my bodyguard,” you said.

“Always?” he asked. “Always doesn’t sound so bad.”

“You know what I mean,” you said.

“I know,” he said. “A man can dream though.”

“When we met, what was your gut reaction?”

“Within half an hour of meeting you, I wanted to quit. I knew...I knew there was this something that I don’t know what it was, it just really wanted to know you and make sure you stayed safe. I didn’t think I could do both effectively.”

“So we were both a bit mean to hide things.”

“Well, you are kinda a sassy client. You don’t always listen to me like the time you nearly got a concussion,” he said, bumping your shoulder with a laugh.

“Excuse me but I escaped, not you, and I saved your perky little ass,” you said.

“Oh so you did notice it’s perky,” he said. You rolled your eyes but giggled, Jensen kissing your temple again. “Maybe you can be my bodyguard too.”

“That sounds fun,” you said. “I’m not wearing a suit though.”

“You could just wear what I do.”

“One of your shirts?”

“Yeah, just that’s good,” he said, chuckling as you lightly smacked his chest. “To be honest, I hate the suits. I prefer the laid back look.”

“I prefer anything where I get to see more skin,” you said. “But that does bring up a point I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Yes?”

“If I wanted you to stay on as a bodyguard...for like work and events moreso cause at home I think boyfriend Jensen could handle that job, would you still work for me?” you asked.

“I’d do it for free,” he said. You cocked your head and he shrugged. “I’m serious.”

“Well I’m still gonna pay you. I just wasn’t sure if you wanted something more...exciting,” you said.

“I’m good with quiet. You still have your fair share of crazies out there. Like the stalker guy,” he said, your eyes wide. “I’m joking.”

“Why do I feel like you’re not?” you asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You’re safe.”

“Never thought I wasn’t,” you said. “Jensen.”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to get away this weekend? Somewhere quiet before I start filming my movie next month?” you asked.

“Yeah. I’d like that,” he said. “After our epic party tonight of course.”

“It’s not gonna be epic,” you said. “It’s like fifty people max.”

“No, it’ll be epic,” he said. “Cause I got you a present you’re gonna love.”

“Tease. What is it?”

“If you must know,” he said as he pulled out his phone. He handed it to you and tapped the screen, scrolling for a minute before he got where he wanted.

“Plane tickets? For tomorrow to the Maldives?” you asked. “How...Jensen you can’t afford this. You have to let me pay for-”

“Oh, honey. I haven’t paid my own rent, utilities, food in a very long time. That plus these hot shot hollywood types and their fancy contracts? I’m better off than you think I am,” he said. “You like, legit saved my life and made me as happy as I’ve ever been and I just want to take my girl on vacation to a place she’s always wanted to go.”

“Fine but only cause I really want to go with you,” you said.

“I knew I’d win you over,” he said.

“You did that a while ago,” you said, a guy walking past on the other side of the street. Jensen took his phone back and glanced over his shoulder once he was gone. “A pap again?”

“Yup,” he said, sending a text off to Jake. “Oh wait. I forgot to do my favorite part.”

He turned around with you and let out a loud whistle, the guy spinning around.

“You do know last guy we caught in the neighborhood we got arrested, right?” called out Jensen. The man paused but kept staring. “I see one photo or your ass around again, we’re gonna have problems.”

“He’s really a sweetheart!” you said. “Probably want to get out of here before we come back around though. He’s a tad protective.”

The man walked a bit faster, Jensen chuckling as you both watched him slip in a car and head for the entrance out of the neighborhood.

“Ah, I love doing that,” he said. “I am a sweetheart, aren’t I.”

“Yes, yes you are,” you said. He squeezed your hand and you looked around, not spotting anything out of the ordinary. “What?”

“That one’s just for me,” he said. He kissed your lips, pulling back with a big smile. You kissed his cheek, breaking off and kissing his lips, cupping his face.

“That one’s for me,” you said.

“Better do it again, just in case,” he said.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Bodyguard.”

_______

#spn #supernatural #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #au #bodyguard!AU #bodyguard!jensen #bodyguard!jensen x reader #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction

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uwuwriting · 4 years

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Road trip w/ Kaminari, Shinsou and Bakugou

Request: Shinso, Kami, and Bakugou on a long trip/plane ride with their S/o? Happy holidays bb! - 🥐

I wish I could go on a trip. I need Christmas break to last longer, I’m not ready to go back to school and study for uni, I’m not emotionally capable. I hate it here.💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: fluff

Kaminari Denki

-You have a mini fight about who gets to drive at first.

-You don’t trust him because he is dumb and bisexual and he believes that you’ll fall asleep ont he wheel cuz you stayed up until like 2 am the previous day downloading music and making playlists for the journey.

-He gets to drive the first shift and it goes relatively well.

-You get some extra sleep, he enjoys his time behind the wheel and boom you’re now at a gas station having brunch before hitting the road again.

-Karaoke driving.

-I think that’s all I have to say about your road trip with this guy.

-HE will ignore the playlists with the soft songs because he needs to vibe at first.

-Kills it with the Shakira impressions like you start wondering what would happen if he suddenly decides to follow a music career like Jiro.

-So many bathroom stops.

-Does this man have a prostate problem because damn.

-He can’t go for more than an hour without stopping to pee.

-The one time you ask to stop at a gas station for a bathroom break he suggests just stopping at the side of the road and you could pee there.

- “I do it so you can too.”

-Denki honey I don’t have a dick to wip out…...I need essentials.

-May or may not have taken the wrong exit at some point and you took a thirty minute detour.

-At least you got some nice photos out of it.

-Speaking of photos.

-Your camera roll will be filled with selfies, stupid videos of Kami hyping himself up at a red light.

-Races with other cars at said red lights.

-You fear for your life most of the time, grasping the door handle like your life depended on it because in reality it kinda did.

-You beg him to take over and drive for a little bit but he brushes you off.

- “You seem tired baby, let me drive for a bit.”

- “Nope I’m perfectly fine Y/N. Gonna get us to the hotel so fucking fast.”

- “Denki no-”

-He calms down after a while, and he lets you put on your soft playlist so you could both just vibe.

-His hand is resting on your thigh, giving it a few firm squeezes every now and then.

-He likes drumming the beat of the song on your skin.

-You start random conversations about anything and everything and if you’re being honest you love these types of moments.

-There are no villains to fight, no danger in the horizon *apart from his driving* and you get to enjoy the tranquility while enjoying the ride.

-Denki starts telling you about adopting a dog and you joke that he would be a horrible dog dad.

- “Maybe cats are better for you babe.”

-You are no longer heroes.

-You are just a couple going on a road trip, away from all your troubles and worries just you and him.

-You reach the hotel later than you expected though…..it was those damn bathroom breaks!!!

Shinsou Hitoshi

-The trip is spontaneous.

-You were both chillin in your apartment when he popped the question.

- “Wanna go on a trip? I’m bored.”

-You never expected him to pick a place this far away, you weren’t complaining though.

-Road trips with him are immaculate.

-He helps you pack your bags in no time, picking your favorite outfits out and placing them in your travel bags along with a bunch of snacks and a fluffy blanket.

-You hit the road in less than an hour.

-It’s still dark out when you start your trip and Hitoshi insists you take a nap, get your beauty sleep while he drives.

- “Don’t worry we won’t crash, I hope.”

-You do take a nap eventually but not for long and you wake up just in time to watch the sunrise with your boyfriend.

-He will pull over and take pictures with the sunrise as your background.

-He says he needs a new wallpaper on his phone and there’s an empty picture frame at his desk back at work.

-He needs to fill them somehow.

-Around noon he brings the fluffy blanket in the front seat, wrapping it around you so you can snuggle and possibly fall asleep again.

-In reality he wants to take more pictures of you with drool dripping down your chin for blackmail purposes but you will not yield !!!

-The trip is mainly filled with music and low humming coming from the both of you.

-Though when a love song that reminds him of you comes on he will lean over and grip your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze, a blush blooming on his cheeks.

-Makes many stops in spots that look great for photos or having an amazing view.

-Definitely has prepared a picnic basket and before you know it you are munching down on some sandwiches he made while your feet are dangling over a small cliff you happened to come across.

-Shares random facts about nature and animals with you.

-Shinsou strikes me as a guy who watches a lot of documentaries and animal planet shows, so he has obtained random information and now he is explaining the mating cycle of penguins.

-Would definitely prefer to sleep in the car and not rent a room.

-He wants to stay outside looking at the stars for as long as possible and then snuggle up with you in the driver's seat, your head against his chest and his hand buried in your hair.

-If you want to go to a hotel because you feel more comfortable, he won’t complain.

-As long as he gets to cuddle you anything is fine in his book.

-He puts on YOUR song while you are looking at the sky and invites you to dance with him.

-Wraps his arms around your waist and slowly sways you back and forth, following the rhythm of the song as he looks into your eyes.

-He loves capturing the moment so expect many photos to be taken and a bunch of videos of you two dancing.

-He has his crackhead moments though so you can expect to be shoved into the water if you’re near a lake or at the beach.

-He might draw a mustache on you while you sleep but don’t worry you get payback when he is asleep.

Bakugou Katsuki

-Whines while you back everything.

-And when I say whines I mean he grumbles under his breath about this stupid shirt that he can’t seem to fold correctly.

-Anyways once you hit the road he is more relaxed than usual.

-He keeps this tight, aggressive persona out in public you sometimes forget that this man, this amazing partner is also a pro hero who is known for his rough edges.

-Sure, his explosive behavior doesn’t disappear when he is with you but he is a lot tamer and calm around you.

-During the car ride he makes small talk with you, sharing random events from his patrols and stupid shit his “squad” have done while out in public.

-When he comes home every night he is just so tired that many details slip his mind as he recounts his day to you, seeing him right now a genuine smile gracing his lips as his only focus is the road in front of him really warms your heart.

-He becomes more affectionate.

-Hand gripping yours while he drives or his palm on your thigh, rubbing your soft skin as he hums along with the music.

-Even if he needs to switch gears he won’t let go.

-Surprisingly he is the type to put on an audio book after a while.

-Usually it's after your wedding song is over or soon after that.

-Your song is like a trigger and suddenly sophisticated Bakugou emerges asking you to pick an audiobook from his collection and put it on.

-Gets really invested in the story and pauses it every five minutes so you can discuss it.

- “She could have escaped through the window why the fuck did she let herself get caught?”

- “No Katsu!!! She needs to make sure the prince is alive!!”

- “That’s fucking dumb!”

-Let’s you take candid pictures of him and won’t complain when you coo over how pretty he looks with the sun behind him.

-Don’t worry he is plotting to fill his gallery of pics of you sleeping.

-When you actually fall asleep he will turn the radio down and hum softly under his breath.

-If it starts raining heavily he will pull over and wait for it to calm down a bit.

-My personal headcanon is that Katsuki has a car with a skylight *if that’s what its called* so he brings the seats down and you lay there admiring the rain falling onto the glass.

-He likes talking about more serious matters when you are like this.

-From your future to what pet your future kids could have.

-If you get cold while waiting for the rain to calm down, he has a blanket on the ready.

-He places you on his chest and drapes the blanket over you, enjoying your warmth and the filling of your pulse under his fingertips.

-Might get a little emotional if a slow song is playing.

-He is just too overwhelmed by his emotions at times like these, when he can hold you and feel the pure love and adoration flow between the two of you like water.

-I love you’s are exchanged and many kisses.

-When he starts driving again he is so refreshed, it’s like a completely different person.

-Gas station stops and bathroom breaks are a nightmare cuz he keeps hyping himself up in order to go into Bakugou public mode.

-You just want your Katsuki, the cuddly Katsuki.

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @dnarez @storage11037 @ezoyscorner @letscheereachotheron @wolfkid22 @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses @threeamwriting @ysatrap @yashinosakura

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fandom-monium · 4 years

Text

For the Holidays - Part 2

Summary: In which Spencer doesn’t want to go to his high school reunion, but you tagging along changes things. “It’ll be nice... having a friend there.”

WC: 1.8k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fake-dating trope, pining (so much pining), insecure and in-denial Spencer, light cursing, (tbh with all the shit that happens in CM they should be cussing way more)

Spencer doesn’t text you. But he’s tried.

First thing he got home, he tossed his bag aside and ripped off his blazer before he threw himself on the couch, digging through his pockets for his phone. Screw reading, taxes, dinner. There are more important things at stake here.

But he’s been sitting there for an hour, glaring at the empty text box with disdain, willing for words to appear.

No such luck.

Spencer writes essays and academic journals in an hour but formulating a simple text? He curses the universe for only making him academically gifted.

He runs a hand through his hair. Maybe he should call? No, you said text. And he doesn’t trust himself enough to have a verbal conversation with you. He will get tongue-tied.

Shit, what does he even say?

It’s not entirely his fault, alright? He’s never been put in a position like this before, except when he goes undercover. And even then everything is planned for him with little contribution on his part⎼he makes small edits to better fit the profiles but that’s about it. All he has to do is scan the file once and in seconds he has his fake identity, his fake backstory, and whatever fake details make up his fake life.

But this. This is different. He has to be brave because it’s you, and he has to chill out because this is supposed to be fake, he reminds himself. Both are tasks within themselves. And yeah, he’s a genius but as Albert Einstein once said, knowledge has its limits.

Shit, his thoughts are so jumbled he can’t even quote properly. This is all your fault.

You.

He still has to text you.

Spencer groans and flops on the couch, the phone clattering to the floor. He doesn’t bother, laying there until there’s an imprint of his butt in the cushions. He stares at the ceiling.

He remembers that you were the one to say yes. He hadn’t directly asked you but you agreed anyway, which means you are willing to spend time with him. Which means you like him (enough). Which means you are friends, and friends help friends out when they are in trouble.

Like needing a fake date.

He rolls onto his stomach, lips pursed as he stares over the edge of the couch. His phone glints in the lamp light.

Just friends helping each other out. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Spencer takes a deep breath and picks up the phone.

He can do this.

⎼

He can’t do this.

“I’m so excited,” Next to Spencer, you nestle into the seat and adjust the fuzzy blanket over your lap, eyes gleaming. “It’ll be nice to see where you grew up.”

Spencer only offers you a tight smile. His eyes dart about as the other passengers settle in, switching seats and fiddling luggage into the overhead compartments. Some of them already requesting for airplane food. Who in their right mind actually wants airplane food?

Spencer really wants to be as excited as you, and he is; he finally gets to spend some time with you outside of work, without the rest of the team hovering (waiting for one of you to make a damn move). It’s almost nice.

If only he can enjoy himself.

His knee bounces nonstop. Against the armrest his fingers tap a rhythm matching the thrum of his heart. And his hair is even more wild having run his hands through it repeatedly before meeting up with you.

He isn’t used to this, being alone with you. Sure, you partner up at work, in cases⎼hell, you've even accompanied each other to a few events. But those were as friends.

Technically, you’re his date. His romantic partner.

Spencer’s never let himself delve deep into his fantasies; he’s imagined (more times than he’d like to admit) taking you on dates to your favorite places, you in his arms, him in your arms⎼you know, minus the imminent danger. All the sweet things that couples do. But they always seemed out of reach. So he’d cut them off, squash the ideas before they went any further. False hope only hurts if you give in.

But now you’re on a plane, rocking in your seat as you hum to yourself, genuinely thrilled at the prospect of seeing his hometown.

This is more than he’s ever imagined. He feels like his heart’s about to burst.

Someone needs to call the bomb squad, real quick.

“Reid.”

"Hm?"

"Are you alright?" You're looking at him, voice drenched in so much concern his stomach twists. He made you worry. He feels guilty.

“Yeah-uh-” He clears his throat, attempting a smile. It’s a sad parody of the real thing. ”I'm fine.“

You raise an eyebrow and scoff, "Okay, I think I know why you're being weird. At least, weirder than usual."

Spencer’s heart drops. He leans back as you lean across your shared armrest, catching the sympathy in your eyes. He stiffens, bracing himself for the rejection. He should have known sooner or later you’d notice his not-so-friendly affections towards you. Of course you did, he isn’t exactly subtle; all the lunches, the museum tours, the stars in his eyes when you wrestle down unsubs⎼

"You’re nervous about seeing your old classmates again."

⎼Or, he’s much better at hiding it than he thought.

Spencer can only watch in awe as you continue, “And it’s totally natural. I mean, I haven’t been to a reunion, but I’d feel weird too if I got to see my classmates after all these years. But have no fear, (Your Name) is here.” You cringe, suddenly abashed. “Unless I’m completely off the mark and now you regret bringing me along. Oh no, that’s it, isn’t? You’re uncomfortable with the whole couples act.”

Spencer shakes his head, and for the first time since take off, he chuckles, “What? No, I’m happy that you’re here. And I couldn't think of anyone better to play my partner.” A relieved smile from you and he shrugs, feigning nonchalance. He fiddles with his sleeve. “But yeah, you got me. I am nervous.”

Which isn’t exactly a lie. You're here, next to him. That's more than enough reason to be.

If he had to be honest, between you and organizing the trip, he almost forgot about the reunion. Then again, he never liked reflecting on his high school years. For obvious reasons.

But your perception is a bucket of ice water over his head. Now he’s wide awake.

You’re doing this because you’re friends. You just want to help.

Friendship never hurt so much.

“I didn’t mention it before, but I’m sure you’re aware I wasn’t exactly the most popular kid in school, being 6 years younger and all,” Spencer swallows the ache. You nod in understanding.

Bright, brown eyes meet yours. He bites his lip. “So, I appreciate you coming with me. It’ll be nice... having a friend there.”

A split second.

Spencer glances away as he says 'friend'. The word leaves such a bittersweet taste he has to hold back a grimace, look anywhere else but you. The word just doesn’t sit right with him.

If he hadn’t looked away, he would have caught the way your smile dropped.

You nearly forgot, though you’re on holiday, this is a mission of sorts. This isn’t about you or how you feel. This is about Spencer. You berate yourself, remembering you're not a teenager anymore; you're a fucking adult and mature adults don't squee at their coworkers.

No matter how cute and adorable they are.

“Of course,” You plaster on a smile and finger the edge of your blanket, unintentionally mirroring him. "Your welcome."

Spencer gives you that white-person smile you love so much. You have to bite back a laugh.

To distract yourself, you pull out your phone and open the Chess app, holding it out to him. "Now, how about that rematch?"

Spencer's face lights up like a Christmas tree.

And as you immerse yourselves into another close match, you feel your confidence grow with every move, chuckling as Reid grumbles about you cheating (you’re not, he’s just a sore loser). You’re an FBI agent, for fuck’s sake. You played spouse and romantic partners for weeks, months. A weekend is nothing.

You can manage playing pretend with a coworker. Just operate like this is any other undercover assignment.

You can pretend you’re in love with Spencer Reid. You can handle it.

You can handle it.

⎼

You can’t handle it.

As one would expect, it’s hard to not fall in love with Spencer Reid. Just as it’s hard not to show it.

It feels like only yesterday the lanky man quite literally stumbled his way into your world and you decided, ‘Him. I will protect him with my life.’ And while you’d totally do that for anyone on the team, with Reid, it hits different.

After you landed in Las Vegas, you had a couple hours to kill before the reunion started, and as the good friend and partner you are, you suggested he show you all the places he frequented when he was little. For research, of course. After all, you’re playing his partner, so the more you know the better.

It’s definitely not because you’re invested in his life. Because that would be unprofessional.

(The way he beamed at you was totally worth it though.)

Then one step in the direction of his favorite eatery and he slipped on a patch of ice. You caught him in time, but the way he looked at you, brown eyes wide and filled with awe, made you feel things you shouldn't feel for a coworker.

It only snowballed from there. Everything about him is just so… endearing.

But you’re at your limit.

Love and affection threatens to spill out of you. Your hands flex in your coat pockets, itching to grab Spencer’s pretty face. Even your chest aches from your heart having swollen twice its size. You feel like you’re about to explode.

This might be the most difficult mission you’ve ever worked.

But this is it, you realize as you stand in front of the closed auditorium doors. This is the final lap. Where everything you’ve practiced really matters. You just have to keep up the charade for a few hours, then you won’t have to struggle to fight back the hearts in your eyes.

Although, your clothes fit tighter than you remember and you’re trembling. Why the fuck are you trembling?

Next to you Spencer eyes the double doors, almost like he’s daunted by them.

Multi-colored lights filter into the dark hallway, silhouettes flickering and shifting from the crack under the door as cheery holiday music faintly streams from behind them, accompanied by shouts and laughter. From his old classmates. Who are most likely making jokes at his expense.

Spencer already wants to go home.

“Ready, Doc?” As if sensing his hesitation, you offer a smile and an arm to him. Your eyes gleam with resolve. It’s more than enough for the both of you.

You can do this.

A deep breath, he slips his arm into yours. “Yep.”

He can do this.

Together, you open the doors.

AN: 2/4??

note: don’t expect part 3 to come out as quick. it’ll contain panic/anxiety descriptions and id like to take my time to write it best :))) i hope you enjoyed the last bit of happiness for a while :))))

also i apologize that i havent gotten to all the requests!! the ones posted on my masterlist are the ones currently being dealt with, but i’ll get through them eventually thx for the patience :D

i remember seeing a post ab Hotch x Prentiss and I didn’t get it but watching CM over again

i get it i so get it. when theyve both gone to each other’s homes? *tears up*

and my hate for seaver has been reinforced :)))))

#spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x original female character #spencer reid x oc #mgg x reader #mgg x y/n #matthew gray gubler x oc #matthew gray gubler imagine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid

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katytheinspiredworkaholic · 3 years

Text

WIP Wednesday

Title: Extraordinary

Pairings: HotchReid (more to come)

Summary: League of Extraordinary Gentleman/Vampire AU;

Within the FBI there is a specialized team full of an elite selection of people. Unique individuals with very particular skill sets. And their job is to take the unusual cases: the ones that need to not only be solved, but are undetermined if the unsub is human, or something else entirely.

In a world filled with Vampires, non-human creatures, and subspecies unknown, there is only enough information to have them vaguely regulated. Rules that are so easily, and violently broken, all while hidden in plain sight among the unsuspecting public. Unrivaled for eons.

That’s where the BAU comes in.

Official Posting Date: October 2021

Links: (Masterpost) (Snippet 01) (Snippet 02) (Snippet 03) (Snippet 04)

(TW/CW: dead body/crime scene, blood and bite wounds talked about in detail, hypnosis/compelling someone to do something against their will, overall discussion of murder (basically what we see in every episode of the show))

(the story so far/what you need to know for this clip at least: Absolutely nothing you don’t already know, this is legit from the first chapter. Hotch is a Vampire (although the LEOs don’t really know that), Rossi is a priest, Morgan is so empathetically telepathic he can touch the auras in the air, and Reid is Reid. I know I’ve been giving you the juicy HotchReid stuff but here have some case stuff too, to see what you’re in for with the plot and everything. This is FIRST DRAFT so it’s terribly unpolished, first part is generalized POV (hence the more professional titles) and the second is within the team dynamics so they get more familiar. idk my first drafts are messy and indecisive, enjoy anyway. 💕)

–

They approach the body and Rainer shoos away his pestering, hovering officers and --- winces once again at the sight of the bloodied woman. “This is the third body in two days; a jogger found her about 6 am. Coroner says she thinks she’s been dead for about 6 hours; killed in the middle of the night, just like the others.”

“Closer to five hours, I think,” Dr. Reid says, crouching down to look closer. All long legs and his gun looking too big on his belt next to his FBI badge. “Could still be within the Witching Hour, though.”

“Do you have accurate time of death estimates for the other two bodies?” Agent Morgan adds on, already picking up the train of thought Dr. Reid has started on. The detective pulls out an old-school flip notebook book and looks through it before answering.

“3:15am the first night, 9:30pm last night and now this.”

“Well that rules out hex, sacrifice, and spell gone wrong,” he concludes, as the other agents surround the body to inspect it from all angles. “So what are we thinking?”

“It’s a frenzied bite,” Agent Hotchner points out, looking from where he stands and not having to get as close as Dr. Reid to inspect it accurately. His eyesight is better than any microscope. “Shows multiple entries, it couldn’t get a good enough hold to rip her throat. Or she struggled, so it wasn’t strong enough to keep her pinned down.”

“The boys think it’s a Vamp,” Detective Rainer points out. “Maybe a baby one, still learning the ropes?”

“Vampire changes are regulated and no sire would allow whoever they turned to do this,” Agent Hotchner says, a colder flint to his voice that matches the way his dark stare cuts up to the detective. “No one has been turned in the United States in the past twelve years.”

“It’s not a Vampire bite,” Dr. Reid agrees, putting on latex gloves to further inspect the body and test the bite radius. “And it’s not a werewolf bite, either.”

“...Werewolf?” the detective says with a winded sound, eyes wide and looking to the three agents who didn’t even blink at the word. “There’s -- there’s such thing as werewolves?”

“Detective, I think you should let my team and I work, we will come to you with our findings and then help you track down your killer.” Agent Hotchner doesn’t leave room for argument, his dark brown eyes looking pitch black in the early morning light, and Detective Rainer… suddenly feels the overwhelming urge to walk away. Like he can’t breathe if he doesn’t comply; he fights it, tries to fight it, and feels his will crumble beneath him like a sand bank giving way under his feet. He turns, even that small gesture lessening the pressure crushing his chest, and takes a step away from the group, air swept into his lungs like a riptide. He makes a hasty retreat after that, winded as if he just ran up a flight of stairs and the sweet taste of oxygen being his only reprieve. He doesn’t know what happened, and wouldn’t upon further inspection until much, much later.

“That wasn’t very nice, Hotch,” Rossi points out with a look of glib reprimand towards their team leader. “I thought compelling feeble minded beat cops was for those who have no skills to avoid it.”

“My patience was running thin, and we need to move faster on this case before our unsub kills again. He’s escalating.” That much is obvious, by the timeline alone, but Father Rossi still gives him a side-ways glance that says he finds far too much amusement in the undead’s antics. “Reid, are you sure it’s not a werewolf bite? It would explain the lack of control and precision.”

“I’m sure,” Reid says with finality, and no one makes a mention on why. He had done more research than any human possibly could in the past few months on werewolf transformation and the after effects of attacks. With what happened to one of their former agents mere months ago, no one doubted his newly learned expertise. “It’s also not a shifter, or a ghoul. We can rule out ghost and poltergeist as well, no residue or temperature shifts.”

“Demon possession?” Morgan asks, looking to Rossi just as he does his customary Sign of the Cross at the mere mention. Can’t help the gesture, after his own past experiences. Giving anything the power of a name, even arbitrary, can be a dangerous thing.

“We can’t rule it out,” he admits. “The teeth marks are human, someone possessed would still have a hard time biting that deep and doing that much damage. Cannibalism is only reserved for the amusements of level three demons, however they aren’t usually powerful enough to reach the mortal plane or take possession of someone’s body. They would need help.”

“You really think someone would weaponize a demon like that?”

“We’ve seen people do worse things, as has history, but I’d like to hope it wouldn’t happen in my lifetime.”

“We need more information,” Hotch concludes, arms crossed and watching as Reid stands up and removes the blood stained gloves. “Morgan,” his gaze cuts to the tall man in his deep blue suit. “Can you walk the scene, tell us what you see?”

“Not with this many people around,” Morgan shakes his head, eyes glancing to every person within a twenty foot radius. “Too many readings, the aura field here looks like an oil spill. The only thing I can latch onto is…” his gaze is back on the ground, hovering over the dead woman, who would have no aura to speak of at all and therefore a blank canvas. He replaces Reid’s space, crouching down to touch the air over the bite wound. Fingers spread wide, less than a foot from her but not touching, palm suddenly curving as if over an invisible shoulder, the place where someone had once been not so long ago. It could have been the coroner, or the crime scene photographer, but with it being so close to the body -- chances were it was the unsub.

“They were crouched down, half on the ground, no… human thoughts that I can hear,” he says, closing his eyes and letting his hand glide through the air a little more, following the curve of someone’s spine and up their neck, resting where the head would be. “They have a fever burning them up, hot as a furnace--” he keeps his hand there too long, suddenly jerks it back as if it had physically burned him, then stands up again. Shaking off the aura reading still sticking to his fingers and the forefront of his mind. “Sound like anything you’ve heard of, pretty boy?”

Reid shakes his head, sharing a glance with Father Rossi. “We might have to go through some of your demonology books.” The older man grins wide.

“You just want to get your hands on them, at this rate you’ll have them memorized by next week.”

“Dave --” Hotch says slow, a reprimand of his own.

“Fine, fine, I’ll have Garcia send us some scans. If the Vatican knew I was putting a book like that in his hands they’d strip me of all my titles.”

“Didn’t they already do that?” Morgan teases with a grin.

“Ex-communicated. I got to keep the dog collar, the honorifics, bless the holy water, you know -- the party tricks.”

–

((if you want to be apart of the taglist just hit me up via comment, reblog tag, DMs or asks 💕))

#THIS IS JUST A SNIPPET #a really fucking long snippet but who's counting #I've missed WIP wednesdays #spooky season is upon us so I'm channeling that #a glimpse at how they handle cases that obviously don't look human #cw blood #cw murder #cw biting #paranormal stuff #sorry it's kind of all over the place but I got to play with Morgan's abilities and that was fun for me #Extraordinary #katyswriting #katyswip #wip wednesday #ALSO I DECIDED ON A POSTING DATE hope that doesn't bite me in the ass later lol

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get-lost-in-fanfiction · 3 years

Note

if you still do requests for ben-centric stuff, could you do reader/oc time travels and meets baby ben in the 70s? or something similar >//> thank you! -❄️

Second Meeting - Oneshot

Paring: Ben Linus x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

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There’s something to be said about how quickly three years can go by. You can still remember how bad your headache was during the flashes. You still remember clinging tightly to Ben’s shirt before he descended into the Orchid. You didn’t know what was going to happen or if you were ever going to see him again. But the last 3 years have been a blur, full of everything DHARMA Initiative, and yet he still hasn’t left your mind.

You miss Ben terribly. Despite the many date offers by the Initiative members, you never allowed yourself to go on any of them. Juliet had tried to encourage you to go on some, even set them up for you. She knew it was pointless, and that even after three years you still held strong feelings for her old leader.

When Jack, Kate, and Hurley showed up you felt a shred of hope. You went with James to meet them, heart full of joy. It all sank when Kate never mentioned Ben at all, and you were too afraid to ask if he had come along. You were even more shocked to learn Locke had died, and were desperate to know how. You didn’t want to push it though, and your heart and brain was so full of shock you could barely get a sentence out.

You rode in silence with James back to the Barracks. You both had a silence agreement to not ask each other how you felt. That was how your friendship worked, and that’s how it always worked. From day one to now, it’s a silence agreement that neither of you two are okay but you won’t press for information.

You two are back at James and Juliet's house, rummaging through his wardrobe, grabbing shirts from hangers quickly. Juliet enters and you don’t hear her until she speaks.

“Hey,” She says and you look up while James keeps looking.

“You seen my baggy sweatshirt, the one with the bulldog on it?” He asks, still frantically pulling clothes together. You just stand there, looking at the shirt in your hands.

“It's in the laundry. James... what's going on?” Juliet asks, and James finally turns around. He gives a pained look to you, and you know exactly why.

“They're back,” You half whisper, and Juliet looks between the both of you in disbelief.

“I'm sorry. Who's back?” She asks.

“Jack, Hurley, Kate,” James replies, and Juliet has so many emotions on her face it’s hard for you to decode them all.

You tune out the conversation. Juliet’s expression did something to you. It shoved some sharp in between the cracks that were already there and threatened to shatter you. You were shaken from your thoughts as James drops the bag of clothes and sits on the bed beside Juliet. You realize you’ve been standing still for a while now and drop down beside him.

James sighs, “I don’t understand it any more than you do. But they're here, and I gotta find a way to bring 'em in before somebody else finds 'em and they screw up everything we got here.”

That's when it hits you, “There's a sub coming in this afternoon,” you say with your voice raised slightly and a sliver of hope comes back.

The next hours are a blur of trying to get Jack, Kate, and Hurley into the Initiative without raising any red flags. You think it seems to go smoothly enough, but nothing is ever simple. Especially not when Jack, Kate, and James are back involved with one another again. You watch Juliet very carefully throughout the day, and her expressions. You realize as you watch, that life as you know it has come to an end. God, planes do so much emotional damage.

When you get word there’s someone out in the jungle, some part of you screams that it’s Ben. They’ve taken him as a Hostile, which is not good. Your mind is already spinning with ideas on how to get him out. But then James gets word on his walkie that it’s Sayid, and your heart deflates. You’re not upset that Sayid is here, you just desperately wished it was Ben. So you volunteer to ride out with James to the Flame to see what’s going on.

Just as you expected, James turns you down. He says you need to keep an eye on Jack, Kate, and Hurley and he says he’ll take care of Sayid. You find yourself nodding, feeling numb. There was no one else with Sayid. You can almost feel hope draining out of your body and onto the grass beneath your feet.

You stand next to Phil in silence through the whole Orientation and picture taking. Everything seems like a blur and you’re not really present in your own head. Stuck in 1977 without the man you love.

“Okay,” Phil says and he claps his hands, shaking your from your thoughts, “Right on. So you guys have the rest of the day to get acquainted with your security protocol handbooks waitin' in your new digs. Now some of it may seem a little scary, but I promise you all, we are perfectly safe here, okay? So make yourselves at home. Come on. We got hamburgers. We got punch.”

Phil’s walkie goes off and you hear James’s voice through the other end “You there, Phil? We're coming in with a 14-J.”

“Roger that, Mr. LaFleur,” Phil’s replies and turns to you. He nods and you nod back, preparing to see your friend again

A DHARMA van stops and Phil speaks up again, “Okay, if I could get everyone to hold back, please, we have a minor security situation.”

James, Jin and Radzinsky step out with Sayid. You watch them all, and you and Sayid make eye contact. You’re surprised to see his eyes widen slightly at the sight of you. You don’t nod or make any acknowledgement that you know him, Phil is too close.

“Move,” Radzinsky says and you can’t help but flinch as they march him away.

“I guess we found Sayid,” You can hear Hurley say and you privately think that this is going to end up being a horrible shit show.

You follow the group despite Phil’s protests as you tag along while they march Sayid down the stairs of the security office and into a prison cell.

“All right, you can hang out here until we can figure out what the hell to do with you,” James says to Sayid and you have to remind yourself his tone is just for appearances sake. You don’t understand why you’re so sensitive

“What are we gonna do with him?” Phil asks James, giving you a sidelong glance. You and Phil have never gotten along. He didn’t like a woman working on the security team, but James insisted.

James sighs deeply before answering, “Bring the man some damn food. We're not savages.” James turns and locks the cell and gives Sayid a glance before walking away.

You want to stay and talk to Sayid. You want to ask him about Ben. Is he still on the mainland in 2007? Is he alive? Did he come with them on the plane? You’re torn and want to stand up for yourself, but Phil tells you to “come along” with a firm grip on your elbow and to have to comply. You give Sayid a tortured look behind Phil’s back and Sayid responds with a sad look and a bowed head.

You win by getting Phil to allow you to watch the security cameras. He sits at his desk, pretending to do work, but you know he's watching you. You sit in one of the chairs facing the screens and just start at Sayid feeling forlorn.

You hear the door open but don't bother to look up. You've been sulking this whole time feeling sorry for yourself. Your ears perk up when you hear a young boy’s voice

“Hey, Phil,” the boy says and you turn around, “I'm just gonna go in there and deliver him a sandwich.”

“All right”, Phil replies, nodding at you to keep an eye out. Your eyes widen as you watch the boy. He looks at you and your eyes lock.

Your heart explodes in familiarity at his eyes and you're in disbelief. The boy turns and walks away, obviously oblivious to what just happened with you. You scramble to your feet despite Phil’s protests and tag along with the boy.

You two enter the cell room. Sayid looks between you and the boy. The boy doesn’t seem to notice

“Hello. I brought you a sandwich,” the boy says and holds a bag through the bars, “I didn't put mustard on it, but if you'd like some, I could get some.”

“This will be fine. Thank you,” Sayid replies. The paper bag crinkles and your throat is dry. The boy looks up at you and you smile apprehensively at him. It’s meant to be reassuring but you don’t think it comes off that way.

“Are you a Hostile?” The boy whispers, looking at you with a terrified expression. You’re unable to say anything.

“Do you think I am?” Sayid shoots back, flicking his eyes over to you every few seconds.

“What's your name?” The boy replies, and it’s a game of questions. You squat down next to the boy, ready to pull him away if Sayid gives away too much information.

“Sayid. What's yours?”

“I'm Ben.”

Suddenly your ears are ringing. You almost fall over but catch yourself on the wall. Sayid is looking at you funny, seemingly shocked as well but more shocked at your reaction.

“It's nice to meet you, Ben,” Sayid replies with his eyes on you.

It’s Ben. It’s young Ben. You had no idea he was with the Initiative. Was he the one who started the Purge? ‘Oh my god’ you think. Young Ben leaves, giving you a weird look. He doesn’t recognize you, but how could he? Time is so fucked up, and you’re not even sure if this is the same Ben that you fell in love with. Will they grow up to be the same?

You press your back up against the nearest wall and slide down onto the floor. Your heart is pounding a bruise into your ribcage and you're lightheaded. Sayid looks at you, seemingly nervous to speak. You wouldn’t know what to say to him anyway. You're feeling way too many things at once to even be able to think about anything but oxygen to your deprived lungs.

Eventually, Phil comes storming in, pulling your shocked form off the floor, and sending you home. It's dark and chilly outside. All the lights of the houses are out except for James and Juliet’s. You don't go see them, you have to go home and process this whole day.

You make it home, barely flicking on a lamp before collapsing into bed in your jumpsuit. You manage to kick off your shoes and shimmy under your bed blankets. Maybe you don't have your Ben back, but at least you have a Ben.

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Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged for oneshots!

#ben linus x reader #benjamin linus x reader #oneshots #reader oneshots #fic request #anon request #❄️ anon

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scuttling · 3 years

Text

California

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 4,547 Tags: SFW, Making out, Phone calls, Getting to know each other, Mentions of sex Summary: Monday, the first full day they spend on the case in Los Angeles, after vacation, is tough. The week gets better, and gets worse, as cases like these do, but there are moments of light in the darkness. Collection: Sophie Cortes timeline, 1 year-1 year 3 Months at the BAU (See Masterlist for reading order) Link to AO3 or read below! Monday, the first full day they spend on the case in Los Angeles, after vacation, is tough. The unsub they are looking for brutally tortures his victims—his teenage victims—and he’s escalating, kidnapping the third child just 72 hours after the second, so everyone is on edge, working themselves to the bone.

They don’t get back to the hotel until well after eleven, and Sophie plans to take a quick shower and then crash pretty hard after such a draining day, but something makes her head for Aaron’s room after her shower instead.

“Hey,” she says softly when he opens the door, and he smiles, looking as exhausted as she feels. “I just wanted to check in with you really quick. I’m sure you’re tired.”

“Yes, but I always have time for you.” He steps back and lets her into the room, and she fidgets nervously—why, she’s not entirely sure. Maybe because this is their first face-to-face in the real world, no hazy, happy vacation feelings making everything softer and easier? She’s not certain, and when he closes the door they just stand there, looking at each other for a moment.

Whether she or he or they both bridge the distance, Sophie can’t say, but one moment they are staring at each other with an electrically-charged foot of space between them and the next they are kissing hot, slow, sultry. One arm wraps around her waist, the other touching her face, her wet hair, and she moans softly against his lips.

Kissing him is everything she thought it would be and more: his hands are strong, but gentle, his lips soft but firm, his body as she presses against him big and solid and delicious, and if he expects her to break the kiss first, he’s going to be waiting a while.

When he eventually pulls back, he rests his forehead gently against hers, smiling down at her like there is some sort of inside joke between them. “Coconut,” he murmurs, and when he presses his nose to the hair at her temple, she understands, smiles back.

“Didn’t realize you like it quite that much,” she teases, still a bit breathless, and he chuckles softly, pulling back a little and putting space between them.

“It’s not just the shampoo I like. I think you’re an incredible woman.” She smiles, maybe a little shy about such a direct complement, and he touches her cheek gently. “I knew that from the moment I met you, but working so closely l got to know you as a person, and I really like who you are.”

“I really like you, too. I like how, in front of outsiders you’re tough, impervious, unmoved, but when it comes to the people you care about you’re just a marshmallow.”

“A marshmallow?” he says, pretending to be offended, and he leans down for another kiss, this one less heated but more indulgent: to Sophie, it feels like the first one, he just needed to get out of his system, but the second is all about tasting her, feeling her. It makes her knees weak, honestly, and she wraps her arms around his shoulders so he can support them both.

“I’ve thought about this,” he murmurs into her ear when they break apart. “Of what I would do if you came into my room, in your little pajama shorts,” he emphasizes by squeezing her butt affectionately, “and told me that you wanted me.” She leans back at that—because he’s hot, so hot, and she gets to look openly now, to touch—and presses her hands against his chest.

“Hmm. What’s your plan, in this situation? When I tell you that I want you?”

“I give you what you want, of course. Anything you want.” She bites at her bottom lip, because she could get really used to hearing that, and takes a few steps back, pulling him with her; she lays down on the bed, guides him so that he hovers over her, and his eyes are dark and wide. When she tugs him closer for a kiss, his hands find her waist again, pushing up the bottom of her shirt.

It feels so good to be under him, another taste of making out like they did on the couch at the beach house. He is a solid line of heat along her body, though he keeps himself from fully dropping his weight onto her, and his hands are deliciously rough on her skin, his teeth perfectly sharp as he nips at her ear. It’s heaven after months of wanting him, absolute heaven.

“Anything I want, you said,” she murmurs, looking up at him when he pulls away, and she brushes a hand through his hair. “Because I want a lot more of that, maybe even a little of this?” His tie is already off, the top button of his shirt unbuttoned, and she slips the next two free, eyes on his face to make sure it’s okay.

“I did say anything,” he confirms, voice low, and he’s breathing hard above her, and that makes her think deeply dirty thoughts...

Someone raps on the door, and Aaron jumps up like she burned him, and she slides off the bed and into a heap on the floor.

They exchange a look, and Sophie hurries to the desk chair across the room. She smooths the front of her clothes, and he buttons his shirt, exhales long, and then opens the door.

“Hey, Hotch; sorry, I know it’s late, but I saw the light on.” He swings the door wide, letting Morgan in, and he looks apologetic when he sees her sitting at the desk. “Oh. I didn’t realize you were here, Cortes. I can come back.”

“No, that’s okay, I got what I came for. It’s getting late, anyway.” She stands and makes for the door, briefly pausing between the two men. “Thank you, Hotch. We can finish that discussion tomorrow, if you like.” She tries to convey a few different things with her eyes, and judging by the gleam in his, he understands them all.

“Absolutely. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. Night, Morgan,” she says with a nod, and she smiles softly as she ducks out of the room.

Twenty minutes later, when she’s lying awake thinking of the feel of his hands on her face, her phone chimes.

AH: I’m sorry our discussion ended so abruptly. I was enjoying it very much.

SC: Me too. So was I.

SC: I have high hopes for the future, though.

AH: So do I. I’ll be hard at work coming up with a plan for our first date.

SC: Mmm, I love it when you talk plans.

AH: Now now. Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.

SC: Goodnight, Aaron.

AH: Goodnight, Sophie. Tuesday doesn’t go any better, is spent canvassing the neighborhoods and schools and parks near the dump site and basically praying they don’t find another victim. Sophie stares at the crime scene photos, truly some of the most gruesome she’s ever seen, for so long that she’s not even sure how she falls asleep that night, but she’s out as soon as her head hits the pillow. Wednesday is better, in a way. A fourth child is taken, but the unsub makes a mistake, and they get a partial plate which leads them right to him. The third and fourth victims are found alive, if a little worse for wear, but they’re reunited with their families by the afternoon.

Sophie plans on having some pizza and a couple of beers, maybe a bubble bath, to celebrate the victory, but they are all gathered in the lobby of the hotel when JJ’s phone rings, and by the look on her face, it’s not time to celebrate just yet.

“An acquaintance of Strauss’s is asking for our help in San Diego. She wants us to head there right away, since we’re already in California.” Aaron looks a little irritated at the case coming from above him, but he nods—what can he say, no?

“Alright, change of plans, then. Sorry everyone.” There is a chorus of groans—clearly Sophie wasn’t the only one with a different idea of how her evening would go—and they board the jet for a new destination.

Sophie doesn’t even register it’s San Diego until Aaron takes a seat next to her on the flight.

“Hey,” she says quietly, looking around them. It’s suspicious as hell, she knows, but it’s instinct.

“Hi. I used to sit here and talk to you all the time, before; don’t make it weird,” he says with a half smile, and she matches it fully.

“Sorry, have you met me? I make everything weird.”

“I know. I like that about you.” She wants to grin, and keep on grinning, but she knows she looks smitten and tries to tamp it down. “I was coming to ask if you planned to let your brother know you’d be in town.” Realization must dawn on her face, because he frowns. “I take that as a no.”

“Well, I hadn’t planned on it. I didn’t even really put two and two together. And I’m not sure if I should, anyway.”

“I don’t know if I’ve earned the right to weigh in on something like this, yet,” he begins, and she tilts her head, surprised.

“You earned the right a long time ago. I’ve trusted you with some of the most guarded, tender parts of me. I would have thought you knew that already.” He looks into her eyes, nods.

“Yes, I did know that. I just don’t want to overstep.”

“Weigh in all you like,” she says with a soft smile. “If you overstep, I’ll let you know.”

“Okay, well. I think you should at least make an attempt to contact your brother while we’re here. If he doesn’t want to see you—that's his loss, but at least you know you tried.”

“What’s the point, though, if I’m 99% sure he’s going to say no? Why put myself through the heartache?” She may hide it well most of the time, but not staying close with her brother after their father’s death is one of her biggest regrets in life. It hurts deeply, and often.

“I don’t know about you, but I’d hold onto hope for the 1% if it meant one more day with someone I love.” She exhales deeply, wills the sudden rush of tears to leave her eyes so she doesn’t cry on the plane, nods.

“You’re completely right. I should at least try. Nada arriesgado, nada ganado. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” His face is soft, and she can tell he wants to touch her, comfort her, maybe kiss her, but there are too many eyes on them. Even Reid is watching their interaction curiously.

“I just want you to be happy, and it’s clear that losing your brother like this has hurt you. This could be your chance to patch things up.” She swallows, puts her hand on his arm; she’s done it before, in front of the others, and it’s painfully obvious they’re having a heart to heart, so it shouldn’t be too unexpected.

“Thank you. Really. I appreciate you.”

“I know. And I appreciate you. Let me know if you need a couple hours, we’ll make it work.” She agrees, and picks up her case file; he does the same, and doesn’t leave.

That night, she can’t sleep, and when a text to Aaron confirms he’s still awake, she presses 'call’, sinks back against the pillows while it rings.

“Hi,” he greets, his voice deep and quiet, and she closes her eyes, soaking it up. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I thought it might get suspicious if I ended up in your room every night, but I wanted to talk to you. Is this okay?”

“This is great. It’s funny how I can miss your voice even after being around you all day.”

“Yeah, for me too. I miss hearing you say my name. My first name.”

“Sophie,” he whispers, low, and she licks her lips.

“Hmm, that’s better. Is there anything in particular you want to talk about?”

“Anything is alright with me. Did your brother ever text you back?”

“Yeah, he said he’ll call me when he wakes up tomorrow—so, around noon, probably,” she says with a laugh, and he chuckles too.

“Well that’s something, at least. A good start.”

“Yeah, it is. Thank you.” She feels herself getting emotional again, and hates that vulnerability, so she forces herself to brighten up. “Maybe we should talk about our previous relationships.”

“Okay. I can go first. You know Haley was my high school sweetheart. We met when we were 15, went to college together, got married at 25. Divorced at 37.”

“Because of your work,” she recalls sadly.

“That’s right. I tried to be very present when I wasn’t working, but it wasn’t enough, of course. We grew apart.” He sighs. “Honestly, she put up with me longer than she should have.”

“It’s the nature of our job, and our personalities. We obsess. It’s not an excuse, but I get it.” She turns onto her side, curls up against her pillow. “What was your favorite thing about her?”

“I always liked how optimistic she was, and ambitious. She was with me every step of the way as I became a prosecutor, then an agent, unit chief, and she became a teacher, then vice principal, principal. For a long time, I thought we were growing together.”

“And for her to encourage you to join the FBI, to do the job you love, and then leave you over it… that must have been hard, even if she had legitimate reasons for wanting to end things.”

“It was hard for me to reconcile for a while. It made more sense when I found out she fell in love with someone else.” Her heart sinks.

“Oh, Aaron.”

“She didn’t cheat on me, but I gave her the time to fall in love with him by not being there. They’re married now, with two kids.”

“Do you still see her?”

“We meet up once a year for coffee, to go over what’s been happening in our lives. I always talk about work, and you can see it makes her feel like she did the right thing. And I’ve started to think that maybe she did.”

“I’m a little biased, so no comment. But I am sorry your heart was broken. Did you date much after?”

“I dated one woman for about 4 months, but we broke up because I wasn’t available.”

“This job makes it hard to be available for anything else. In a way, I’m glad I don’t have much family, that my brother doesn’t want to see me often.”

“I think that’s why we come together the way we do. Found family. It’s almost necessary.” He sighs, and she can tell that’s it for him. “So I know you have said you don’t date much.”

“Yeah, my last real relationship was back in Chicago. Taylor. He works Fire and Rescue.”

“What did you like the most about him?”

“He had a way of making people feel comfortable that I’ve always admired. He makes friends easily, and it translates well to his work, when people are scared or hurt.”

“How long were you together?”

“A year. Doesn’t exactly compare to 22 years, but it’s the longest relationship I’ve ever had. I was busy with school and didn’t really have time to date. Then work got in the way.”

“So you’ve been alone for a while. No family here, no boyfriend.” It makes her sound kind of pathetic, and she laughs lightly.

“Yeah, I guess, but I get by.”

“I know you do. What did you like least about Taylor?”

“He wasn’t like this at first, but before we broke up he… I’m not trying to take this down a sexual path, but the story involves sex, if that’s okay.”

“Of course.”

“Okay, so you know that a lot of women need direct clitoral stimulation to have an orgasm. I don’t, particularly—I like it, but I don’t need it, I can have an orgasm from intercourse. Well he would just batter my clit, all the time, to the point that it hurt. And when I told him it hurt, he basically mansplained my own body to me, and how that couldn’t be true because he knows ‘the clitoris is one of the most sensitive erogenous zones due to its high concentration of nerve endings’, like he was reading it out of a textbook when a living, breathing woman is sitting there telling him it’s too much. It was the first time I ever cried during sex, and when I can’t trust you with my body, I lose all emotional regard. Things just kind of fell apart from there.”

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that. That he broke your trust that way.”

“Thank you. I think that’s another reason I don’t date. It’s hard for me to fully give myself to another person, to trust, sometimes.”

“I promise I will listen when you’re telling me how you feel, physically or otherwise. I would never do what he did.”

“I know. I trust you. I don’t think we’d be doing this if I didn’t.” She takes a deep breath, blows it out slowly. “Okay, let’s lighten it up. Um… If you could only eat one meal for the rest of your life, what would it be?” He hums thoughtfully.

“What a question. I’m assuming this is strictly based on what I want to eat forever, without taking nutrition into account.”

“Of course. What would make Aaron Hotchner smile every time he takes a bite?”

“Okay,” he begins, and she can hear the smile already. “I’m sorry, vegetarian, but it would be a big, juicy cheeseburger, with lettuce and tomato and extra pickles, the skinny French fries, and a cherry Coke.”

“How All-American of you. That’s cute.”

“And what meal would you eat for the rest of your life?”

“So, my instinct is to say tacos, but there’s this jalapeno popper pizza at the shop by my house… If it were legal for me to marry this pizza, I would have done it already.”

“Wow. That must be some pizza. I’m a little jealous.” She laughs softly.

“You probably should be, it’s amazing. It has jalapenos, obviously, but two other types of peppers too, and three kinds of cheese, and ranch sauce. So I’ll make a commitment and say, that pizza. For the rest of my life.”

They talk a little more before heading to bed, and she’s so happy it makes even the prospect of meeting up with her brother seem a little bit less daunting. Thursday is a blur of interviewing witnesses who worked with the victim, but she’s able to sneak away at two to meet her brother Leo for lunch. He looks taller, somehow, more like 6’2” than 6’0”, and darker, from all that good California sun; she grins when she sees him. “Hola, broki. Creciste!” she says, marveling at his height, and he pulls her into a hug, smiles the same goofy, charming smile as always.

“I haven’t grown, I think you shrunk. And you’re so pale.”

“That’s life on the East Coast for you,” she explains as they pull apart, and they take their seats.

“That’s office life, hermana. You need to get out more. I bet your lungs are tired of all that recycled air.”

“I get out when I can. Been soaking up your sun and air the last few days working on this case.” The waitress approaches, and they order drinks; Leo’s a regular, knows what he wants to eat right away, and she orders the same to make things easy.

“The murder of that financial guy, right? Stockbroker, or something?” She raises her eyebrows, surprised he knows that much. “I heard on the news the FBI was on the case, figured that meant you, when you texted.”

“You watch the news?” she teases, because he has always been type to avoid real life at all costs, and the news is about as real as it gets.

“It was on at the DMV; don’t get too excited.” She laughs, because some things never change, and they chat a little more about the case, about what’s going on in his life—girlfriends, boyfriends, parties, surfing—as they eat.

“Actually, I wanted to tell you,” she says after a tale about a tall, dark, and handsome guy named Daunte, setting down her fork, “I have a boyfriend.” His brows shoot up his forehead.

“A boyfriend, ‘mana. I never thought I’d see the day. You’re such a lone wolf anymore.”

“Not by choice, by necessity,” she mutters, stabbing at her salad. “But yes, I have a boyfriend now. It’s really new—like, less than a week new—but it’s been a long time coming.” He takes a sip of his lemonade, smiles softly.

“He’s a Fed like you?” She must appear surprised by his astuteness, because it morphs into a grin. “You’re at work 24/7, Sophia, where else would you meet him?”

“Oh, for a minute I thought you were taking after your profiler sister there, buddy.” He frowns down at his plate.

“You don’t have to worry about that. I hate how you can get into people’s heads.”

“I do it to catch bad people, Leo. Rapists, murderers. I don’t do it to you, and you know it.” She sighs. “I didn’t want to talk about this today, anyway. I just wanted to come see you, catch up. It’s been nice.”

“Yeah, it has,” he agrees easily, and they steer away from the topic of her work, onto safer things. He pays for their meal—she almost falls out of her seat just to get a laugh out of him, and it works—and she has to get back to the precinct, but they make a pact to talk more often, so she considers the whole thing a success.

When she walks into the conference room they are using, she catches Aaron’s eye, points down the hall. “Can I borrow you for a sec?” she asks, and he excuses himself, follows her to the other end of the station; he presses his palm to her lower back when they are out of eyesight.

“Did everything go alright?” he asks seriously, and she pulls him in for a hug. His arms wrap around her easily despite their location, and he sighs, rests his cheek on the top of her head.

“It was really great, Aaron. It was hardly tense at all, and I… I would never have done it if it weren’t for you. So thank you.” When she pulls back, she tries to show him how grateful she is with her gaze, and he can tell, she knows it.

“You’re welcome. I just want you to be happy.” Their people aren’t around, but other cops are, so this is already bordering on too much PDA; she wants to kiss him, but restrains herself, takes a deep breath.

“What can I do to help?” she asks instead, and he fills her in on the new details of the case.

“So what’s your favorite movie of all time?” she asks that night, over the phone again. They’re all hoping it’s their last night in California, that the lead they have will pan out so they can finally go home, but no one more than Sophie and Aaron.

“A Few Good Men.”

“Oh, that’s so lawyerly of you. I probably would have guessed between that and… Witness for the Prosecution.”

“That movie is older than you. It’s older than me.”

“I like old movies. My mama always watched the classics in black and white, so I find it soothing.”

“What’s your favorite?”

“Oh, that’s such a hard question. Maybe… The Maltese Falcon? I love the drama of noir films, but I also like romances like Roman Holiday. Or anything with James Stewart.”

“Now I know why you’re attracted to me; you’re an old soul,” he teases, and she laughs softly.

“There are many reasons I’m attracted to you; I’d list them, but I can’t afford to keep you up all night.”

“Not tonight, anyway,” he murmurs, and she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, smiles like an idiot.

“Right. Not tonight.” She hums as she thinks of another question to ask him. “If you could only use one of your senses, which would it be?”

“Forever?”

“That seems cruel. Let’s say, just for one day. And you wouldn’t have to work, so don’t take that into consideration.”

“Would I be with you?” he asks, and her heart feels soft.

“If you want to be.”

“Then hearing, I think. The way your voice wraps around me when it’s just the two of us, it feels almost like we’re touching, anyway.” God, she’s such a sap, melting completely at his words. She says nothing for a moment, and he clears his throat. “You?”

“Oh, touch, for me. As much as I love the sound of your voice, I’m very tactile, and I don’t think I could go the day without touch without losing my mind.”

“That’s good to know. Explains why you’re always hitting Morgan.” She laughs.

“Yeah, that’s an easy way to get some touching in for the day. I prefer softness, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“I’ve got a question for you, and then we should probably get some sleep,” he says after a moment. “Which of your personality traits are you the most proud of?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. Resiliency, I guess? I’ve always been able to push through hard times and focus on my goals. I’m very fortunate in that way. What about you?”

“I would say rationality, I think. It makes me better at what I do, even if it’s not always appreciated.”

“You know that you’re more than this job, right? I mean, I know we agreed that we obsess over it, that we let it be a part of who we are, but it’s not all you are. I can think of so many great traits you have that make you a good person, Aaron.”

“I don’t often tell myself that I’m a good person. A good agent, sure. A good boss, sometimes.” She frowns, feels for him.

“In that case, I’m happy to be the one to tell you. Often. Loudly.” He breathes a laugh, then yawns. “Yeah, I’m ready for bed, too. Maybe tomorrow we’ll get to go home, and we can work on having one of these conversations in person.”

“I would really like that. Sleep well, Sophie.”

“You too. Goodnight.” Friday morning, they catch the murderer, put him behind bars. It’s high profile, and Sophie’s there when they take him in; she hates having cameras in her face, hates California because there are always cameras, but she feels a rush of satisfaction when she gets the killer in the squad car and shuts the door in his face.

A couple of hours later, when she’s packing her bag, she gets a text from Leo: Nice job, hermana. Te amo.

Maybe some things will change after all.

#aaron hotchner/original female character #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

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