#i have never made gifs of lower quality

[goldengalore]

Intimacy

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Y/N hasn’t been intimate with someone in a long time, which makes her nervous about having sex with Harry for the first time.

Word count: 6.5k

Warnings: anxiety, smut (featuring soft dom!harry, fingering, thigh riding, oral - m receiving)

A/N: This is one last idea (for now) that I had for the anxious!reader universe. Lots of smut, but it’s very soft and sweet and full of love :)

***

His hands. Y/N can’t stop staring at his hands.

There are a lot of things she finds attractive about Harry. Too many. It’s actually maddening how one person can have so many attractive qualities. Lately, her brain has decided to fixate on his hands. They’re pretty and elegant, strong and masculine.

His long fingers are often decorated with an ornate collection of rings. Sometimes his nails are painted with vibrant colours; other times, they’re unpainted but still clean and neatly trimmed. She can often see the veins that travel up the backs of his hands into his toned arms. He moisturizes them well too, so they rarely look dry.

Y/N would be lying if she said her obsession with Harry’s hands is completely innocent and merely about aesthetics, that she hasn’t imagined how those fingers would feel in her mouth or between her legs and orgasmed to the thought of that while lying alone in bed at night.

It doesn’t help that he’s a highly affectionate person, finding any excuse to place his hands on her whenever she’s within reach. Even now, as they lounge on his couch, he pulls her legs into his lap and begins massaging them. She’s wearing a knee-length dress today, leaving her lower legs exposed. His hands don’t move up past her knees, but that doesn’t stop her imagination from running wild anyway.

“Y/N?” His smooth, commanding voice—another annoyingly attractive feature of his—pulls her from her thoughts.

“Hmm?” Her eyes flick up to his emerald ones staring back at her. She realizes with embarrassment that she hasn’t listened to a thing he’s said in the past minute or so.

“What were you staring at?” He glances down in his lap, where her gaze was just a few seconds ago.

“Oh, just your hands.”

His brows furrow slightly as he starts inspecting his hands, turning his palms up, then down. “Why? Something wrong with them?”

“No! No, they’re just… nice. Nice hands. That’s all. Sorry, what, um, what were you saying?”

A teasing smirk forms on his lips. “Nice hands, huh? Never heard that one before.”

She rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the heat rising to her cheeks. “Please. I’m sure you’ve heard that a million times.”

“Mmm, not really.”

She narrows her eyes at him, not believing him for a second. His smirk broadens.

“Anyway,” he says, resting his hands back on her legs, “I was just saying that I really missed you last week.”

Now she feels even worse about zoning out on him. He’s been out of town this past week for work. They reunited just this morning after his flight landed back in LA.

“I missed you too, H.”

“This week made me realize something.”

Her heart skips a beat. “What?”

“Made me realize how much I hate being away from you. I know our friendship started over Zoom meetings and phone calls and whatnot since I was on tour, but…” He shrugs. “After spending time with you in person these past couple months, I can’t imagine being away from you for weeks or months at a time. I think I’d go mad.”

His confession feels like being swaddled in a warm blanket. While he was away, Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about him. His fluffy hair and dimpled smile, his kind eyes and boyish laugh, even his cute nose consumed her thoughts from the moment she woke up in the morning to the moment she fell asleep at night. She found herself cursing the slow passage of time frequently throughout the week. To hear that her feelings were reciprocated makes her giddy inside.

When she takes a while to respond, he says, “I hope that wasn’t too intense. It’s just been on my mind lately and I had to say it.”

“No, I feel the same way.” I think I’m in love with you, she says in her head but struggles to speak aloud. She has never been the first to say those words in a relationship.

He smiles, relieved. “Okay, good.” He holds her gaze for a few seconds, then shifts closer, her legs still strewn across his lap. His hand comes up to cradle her jaw as he leans in for a kiss, sucking her top lip into his mouth.

She scoots even closer, practically sitting in his lap now. The movement causes her dress to ride up. Harry rests his other hand on her bare thigh, squeezing it lightly. Her heart quickens. His hand inches along her inner thigh, hiking her dress up even further. Suddenly, her whole body tenses up and she shrinks away from his touch.

“Sorry, I—I can’t,” she stammers, quickly removing her legs from his lap and tugging her dress back down.

She sneaks a glance at his face and detects some hurt there. It lasts for a split second, but her brain registers it anyway. She feels awful. This is the second time he has tried to get intimate with her beyond just kissing. The first was the night before he was supposed to fly out of the city. They were cuddling in his bed. She was giving him all the signs that she wanted to take things further—letting her hands roam all over his body, grinding her hips against him—but as soon as he started returning her touches, she pulled away.

It’s frustrating because she fantasizes about it all the time, yet when it finally starts to happen, she freezes up. It’s like her mind and body are on completely different pages.

“I’m sorry, H,” she repeats.

“It’s all right.” He gives her a reassuring smile. “You’re not ready for that. I understand.”

“But I am ready. I just…” She looks up at the ceiling as if the answers to her puzzling emotions will be there. “Ugh! I don’t know.”

A long silence stretches between them, though it probably feels longer in her head than it is in reality.

“I should go,” she finally says, rising to her feet, but he grabs her hand before she can go anywhere.

“Already? We haven’t even had dinner yet.”

“But I made things awkward!”

“No, you didn’t. Stop that.”

She was trying to avoid his gaze, but he tugs on her hand to make her look at him.

“We’ve been apart for a whole week. You think I’m letting you run off that easily?” He frowns a bit. “Wait, that sounded creepier than I’d intended.”

She giggles, feeling somewhat lighter. “Okay, fine. I’ll stay.”

They order sushi for dinner and crack open a bottle of wine. The awkwardness she felt earlier fades as Harry starts telling her about a deep conversation he shared with the five-year-old girl sitting next to him on his flight. Y/N is glad she decided to stay because if she had gone home to spend the night by herself, her overthinking mind would have eaten her alive.

After dinner, they transfer back over to the couch with their wineglasses in hand. They sit cross-legged, facing each other. The wine has helped her loosen up some more, granting her the courage to explain why she’s been so reluctant to get intimate with him.

“I’m not a virgin,” she tells him. “I know it probably seems that way because of how I act every time we try to do anything sexual, but I’m not. Not that there’s anything wrong with being one, obviously. I just thought you should know.”

He nods. “Okay.”

Although he doesn’t press any further, his eyes are curious and attentive in a way that makes her want to spill everything, just lay out all her secrets and fears and insecurities in a big, messy pile in front of him.

“I’m not a virgin, but I haven’t had sex in years,” she explains. “And I’ve always had to have a few drinks before doing it. I tried doing it sober once, and it was a total disaster. I was on the verge of a panic attack the whole time, and the guy didn’t know what to do. I just told him to keep going, so he did until he finished and—”

“Lovie, that’s not okay,” he interjects, brows pinching together in concern. “He should’ve stopped when he realized you were having a panic attack.”

“Well, to be fair, I told him to keep going. It was totally consensual.”

“Still. He should’ve at least stopped to make sure you were all right. Seems like basic human decency to me.”

“I guess....” She shrugs, knowing that he’s right but not wanting to think about it much longer. “Anyway, after he finished, he told me that having sex with me was like fucking a scared baby deer.” She forces a laugh, though the memory still makes her cringe inside. “Needless to say, I was mortified and never saw him again. And that’s the only time I’ve had sex while sober.”

“And all the times you weren’t sober, did you at least enjoy it?”

She hesitates. “Um, define enjoy.”

He appears even more concerned now. “If you’re having to ask that question, I’m afraid the answer is no. If you enjoyed it, you would know.”

“Well, I just asked because if by ‘enjoy,’ you mean ‘did I orgasm during it,’ then it’s a no. But my anxiety was a lot more under control, so I guess that could be considered a form of enjoyment… Right?”

Rather than answering her question, he asks, “You’ve never orgasmed during sex?”

She shakes her head. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, but her cheeks still feel like they’re on fire.

“Have you ever had an orgasm?”

“Oh, plenty. When I’m alone, that is.”

“I see.” He rubs his jaw and looks away, sinking deep into thought. She can’t read the expression on his face.

“So, now you know how bad I am at sex,” she jokes to fill the silence.

He looks at her with a raised brow. “I don’t know about that. If anything, it’s the guys you’ve been with who were bad at sex if they couldn’t even make you come once.”

“Oh no, they were all very experienced.” Y/N doesn’t know why she’s defending these men, as if they would do the same for her. Perhaps it’s because she’s spent her whole life thinking she was the problem and this is the first time someone has suggested a different perspective to the one she’s become so accustomed to.

“Experience doesn’t always equate to being good at something.”

“I guess not.” She bites her lip and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I do want to try again… with you. I just don’t know how to stay calm without having a few drinks in my system.”

“Yeah, we’ll have to work on that.”

His use of the word “we” doesn’t go unnoticed by her. We, as in this is our problem, not just yours. We, as in we’ll figure this out together, you don’t have to do it alone. She feels a surge of something in her chest, and the only term she can think of to describe it is love.

“I’m calm right now,” she says with sudden realization, placing her wineglass on the table so quickly that it almost topples over. “So, technically, we could try again—”

“No.” He shakes his head. “We’re not having sex for the first time while you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk drunk though. Just a bit tipsy. I think we could still—”

“Y/N, it’s not happening,” he states firmly. “Other guys might have been okay with that sort of thing, but I’m not, okay?”

Her shoulders slump. She looks down in her lap. “Okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you. I just want you to know that I want it as much as you do.”

“I know. Hey”—he tilts up her chin—“we’ll get there. There’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere.”

He has no idea how much of a relief it is to hear those words. Her biggest fear this whole time has been him losing interest in her because she can’t seem to get over her anxiety around sex. It’s happened before. Guys often expect her anxiety to disappear after the first time. When it doesn’t, they take it as a blow to their ego and react by making her feel like a freak for being anxious at all. The humiliation leads to even worse anxiety the next time she gets intimate with someone. It’s a vicious cycle.

She doesn’t want to get her hopes up or anything, but maybe that cycle finally ends with Harry.

***

When it comes to Y/N, Harry just doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself. Even before they met in person, he would dream of the day he could finally have her in his arms, how perfectly their bodies would mold together, how electrifying that first contact would be. For months, he’s been dying to touch and feel and kiss every inch of her, but after hearing about her sexual history, it’s no surprise why she’s so hesitant to take that step with him.

Taking things slow is not a problem for Harry. If anything, he feels lucky to be the one who gets to show her how fun and exciting and stress-relieving sex can be when the people involved actually care about each other’s pleasure.

It’s been a few days since that initial conversation. They’ve had several more discussions about it since then, and he thinks they’re ready to try something now.

He stares at Y/N lying on his bed, looking cute and cozy in his forest green Pleasing crewneck. Her lips are swollen from all their making out, her neck and collarbone littered with red spots where he licked and sucked on her skin like an ice cream cone.

“Question for you,” he says, leaning his head on his palm. “When’s the last time you touched yourself?”

“Hmm… A couple days ago?”

“Would you feel comfortable doing that in front of me?”

Her eyes widen. “Y—you want to watch me touch myself?”

“Only if you’re okay with it.” Her reaction already indicates that she’s not.

“Oh, I… I don’t think I am,” she admits, confirming his thoughts. “I mean, I don’t even like being watched while I cross the street. It’s like I forget how to walk.”

“Okay, different question. How would you feel about getting in a bath with me?”

She thinks about it. “I’d be okay with that.”

He runs them a bath lightly scented with a lavender oil he bought recently, while Y/N leans against the doorway and watches. Once he begins to undress, she follows suit. Starting with his crewneck, she removes her clothes at an extremely slow pace, as if she’s on the verge of changing her mind at any moment. He finishes undressing before she does and pretends not to notice her eyes bulging at the sight of his dick. Instead, he leans over to the tub to test the temperature of the water.

“I’ll get in first,” he says. “Then you can sit between my legs. Sound good?”

She swallows. “Yup.”

He steps into the tub and submerges everything but his head and upper chest into the water. His back rests against one side, his long legs outstretched in front of him.

In the meantime, Y/N finishes undressing. He forces himself not to stare, knowing that it’ll only make her more nervous. She moves quickly now, striding over to the tub and climbing in on wobbly legs. He holds out his hand for support.

“Careful,” he says.

She sits down between his legs with her back facing him. There’s still a lot of space between them.

“Just lean back against me,” he tells her.

She hesitates for a moment, then leans back until she’s flush against his torso.

He smiles. “There you go.”

“Okay, what now?”

“Nothing. Let’s just sit for a minute.”

They enjoy the next few minutes in companionable silence. The warm water seems to dissolve all the tension in her body, which is exactly why he suggested this idea in the first place. Her shoulders relax. She sinks deeper into him.

After a while, he says, “I’m going to try something. If you don’t like what I’m doing or you want me to stop, I need you to tell me. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. My ego can handle it. Okay?”

She responds with a tiny nod.

“I need you to answer me verbally, lovie,” he says softly in her ear. “Just so I can be sure we’re on the same page.”

“Yes. Got it. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. Don’t have to apologize.”

“Sorry,” she says again, automatically. “Fuck! Sorr— Shit! Why do I keep—” She starts to sit up, but he places a hand in the middle of her chest, gently pulling her back against him. He can feel her heart galloping like a racehorse.

“Y/N, relax. You’re okay. You’re doing great. Just breathe.”

She inhales a deep, shaky breath, then releases it.

“That’s good. Keep doing that.”

Her heartrate gradually decreases with each breath she takes. Once she appears to have calmed down, he moves his hand from the centre of her chest to one of her breasts, cupping it tenderly in his palm. His other hand comes to rest on her belly before making its descent between her legs. She squirms a little once the pads of his fingers make contact with her clit.

“Are we okay?” he asks.

“Y—yeah.” She takes another deliberate breath.

He rubs her clit in small, tight circles and kneads her breast at the same time. Her hands rest at her sides on top of his thighs. As he pinches her nipple, twisting and pulling it lightly, her fingers dig into his thighs and his cock twitches between their bodies. He wonders if she felt it. His middle finger prods around her slit now and slips inside without resistance. He pumps it in and out a few times before adding a second one, using his thumb to rub her clit.

Y/N is completely silent, but the slick substance coating her pussy and the subtle rocking of her hips is confirmation enough that she’s enjoying this. He peeks at her face to find her eyes closed and her bottom lip pulled between her teeth like she’s afraid of accidentally making a sound.

That is another thing they’ll need to work on. Harry likes being vocal during sex and equally enjoys when his lovers are vocal too. He doesn’t want Y/N to hold anything back around him. But they can work on that another day.

“Does this feel good?” he asks.

She nods, then remembers what he said earlier and answers out loud, “Feels good, yes. Really good.”

Satisfied by her response, he presses a third finger inside and pushes all three of them deep into her with every thrust, turning her into a squirming, quivering mess in his arms. Her back arches off his torso as she comes, the smallest whimper slipping through her self-restraint. He gradually lessens the stimulation on her clit, then removes his fingers completely. She lets her head roll back against his shoulder.

“Wow,” she sighs. “I’ve never… That’s never happened with someone before.”

“Wasn’t too bad, was it?”

“No, it was great. Um… thank you?”

He chuckles. “My pleasure.”

Suddenly, she sits up and looks over her shoulder at him. “So… your turn now?”

He waves his hand, splashing some of the water with it. “Don’t worry about that.”

She frowns. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs casually, trying to act cool as if he can’t feel his dick throbbing furiously under the water right now.

He could take her up on the offer, but he wants to focus on her today. Y/N is too nice to admit it, but he has deduced from their recent conversations that her previous partners were too greedy in the bedroom, exploiting her selfless nature for their own benefit. It’s quite unfortunate. Someone like her deserves to be spoiled, not exploited. At least now that she’s with him, he can make sure she gets the treatment she deserves.

After they’ve cleaned up and stepped out of the tub, he grabs one of the towels off the counter and starts handing it to her, then stops.

“Can I dry you off?” he asks.

She seems surprised but not opposed to the idea. “Sure.”

“Okay, just one moment.” He quickly pats himself dry, then grabs the other towel and walks over to her.

Timid eyes gaze up at him. They fall shut as he raises the towel to her face and dabs away all the little water droplets. Next, he moves down to her neck, shoulders, chest, and so on… After he’s done with her upper body, he sinks down to his knees on the mat and works on her lower half, taking his sweet time and humming softly to himself. He glances up to find her smiling at him.

Once her entire body is dry, he leans forward and plants a kiss to her belly before standing up with the towel thrown over his shoulder. Y/N’s eyes follow him as if in a trance.

“All good?”

She just blinks at him.

“Y/N?”

“I’m in love with you.” The words rush out of her like a whoosh of air that had been trapped in a sealed container. “God, it feels weird saying it out loud. It’s been in my head for so long and I didn’t want to say it because that makes it feel more… real.”

“Why’s that a bad thing?”

She doesn’t reply.

“Because you think I don’t feel the same way?”

“Do you?” She winces slightly as if she’s bracing herself for possible rejection, as if the answer to that question could be anything but “absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent yes.”

“Of course I do, Y/N. I thought I’d made that pretty obvious.”

“You should know by now that nothing is obvious with me.”

It’s true. Even when they were just friends and Harry began dropping hints that he wanted to be more than that, they pretty much all went over her head. Y/N is a smart woman; she just happens to be totally oblivious when it comes to love and romance, which he finds deeply endearing about her.

“Well, take this as your confirmation that I am, in fact, very much in love with you,” he states, taking her face in his hands and giving her a big, sloppy smooch on the lips, which she accepts with a laugh.

***

“That’s it, lovie. Keep going. You’re doing amazing.”

Y/N rocks back and forth on Harry’s thigh, her cunt positioned directly over his tiger tattoo. His thick, firm quads provide the perfect amount of friction against her needy clit.

A week ago, the idea of riding his thigh while he watched her would have made her extremely self-conscious. But since then, they’ve spent each night exploring each other’s bodies. He has given her several more orgasms with his fingers and mouth, while she has given him some with her hand. They’ve masturbated in front of each other. One night, he gave her a full-body massage that turned her on so much that he hardly even had to touch her clit to make her come.

She doesn’t mind being watched anymore. Not by Harry, at least. His gaze is never judgemental or critical. She doesn’t need to fret over saying or doing the wrong thing and ruining the moment. This has made her fall even more head over heels for him.

“Look so pretty getting yourself off on my thigh like this,” he says, toying with her breasts.

A moan starts to leave her mouth until she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth to trap it in. Harry reaches up and drags her lip back down with his thumb.

“Let me hear you,” he says. “Wanna hear how good this makes you feel.” He grips her chin between his thumb and index finger, keeping her mouth open.

She’s close now, the heat of her orgasm building in her core. Her hips grind faster against him. He lifts up his thigh to heighten the pressure on her clit. The tight knot in her lower abdomen unravels, and she comes with a loud moan, soaking his thigh with her juices.

“You make the sweetest sounds when you come,” he says, releasing her chin.

She pecks him on the lips and, before she’s even recovered from her orgasm, gets on her knees between his legs.

He frowns. “What are you doing?”

She looks at him like it should be obvious. “Returning the favour?” As she begins to reach for his cock, he grabs her wrist.

“Nope,” he says. “You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act like you have to pay me back for every orgasm. Sex doesn’t have to be so transactional, you know?” The smirk on his face conveys that he’s joking, but that doesn’t stop Y/N from having the sudden, embarrassing realization that perhaps she does treat sex like it’s transactional and just wasn’t aware of it until now.

“I—I know that,” she fibs a little. “I just want to make you feel good.” That part, at least, is not a lie.

Harry has been spoiling her heavily this past week, which has been delightful. She can tell he’s making every effort to gain her trust in the fact that he doesn’t expect anything in return for how incredible he makes her feel. But Y/N likes making him feel good too. She likes the way he hisses and shudders when she finds his most sensitive spots. She likes watching his usual composure crumble simply from her touch. She lives for it.

“Please?” she adds to her request, giving him her best doe eyes.

“Okay,” he says. “If you really want to.”

“I do.”

He lets go of her wrist, allowing her to reach for his stiff cock again. Nerves make her hands tremble, as she remembers how long it’s been since she gave someone a blowjob. She wants it to be perfect, but realistically, she’ll probably be a bit rusty.

She strokes him in her hand and runs her tongue along the underside of his shaft until, finally, she feels ready to take him in her mouth. Her lips wrap around his tip and slowly move down his length, tongue gliding against him. She considers deep-throating, then decides against it because it’s been way too long since she’s done it and she needs time to work up to it again. Any insecurity she felt about that disappears the moment she glances up at Harry. His eyes are closed and jaw clenched, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

Emboldened by the look of absolute ecstasy on his face, she bobs her head up and down his shaft and massages his balls with her hand. She moans around him, and he releases a low groan at the sensation it produces. Then she lets his entire length slip from her mouth, teasing him by flicking her tongue over his tip and leaving little kisses along his shaft until his fingers are weaving through her hair in desperation.

“Didn’t know you could be such a tease,” he says with a breathy laugh.

She grins innocently, then takes him into her mouth again, determined to suck him to completion this time. His hand feels good in her hair. She imagines him holding her head in place while he fucks her mouth. She never thought she would be into that sort of thing until now.

“I’m gonna come soon, Y/N,” he warns her as he gets close.

She doesn’t pull away. He thinks she didn’t hear him, so he repeats himself. She makes eye contact to convey that she heard him, that she wants him to come in her mouth, which he does moments later. She relishes the taste of it, swallowing every last drop. As she draws back and wipes her mouth clean, he stares at her in amazement.

“You’re really fucking good at that,” he tells her.

“Thanks! I had this boyfriend in college who only wanted blowjobs all the time since that didn’t involve having to make me come, which was basically impossible for him. He was kind of demanding, but he taught me how to give a damn good blowjob.”

Harry grimaces. “You know, the more I learn about your previous partners, the more I want to hit them over the head with something.”

She laughs. “I think I make them seem meaner than they were.”

“No, I think you make them seem nicer than they were.” He pats his thigh. “Get up here.”

She stands up and sits on his thigh with her legs dangling between his this time. His arm wraps around her back.

Locking his eyes on hers, he says, “You are worth so much more than being some guy’s blowjob dispenser, all right?”

“I know, I know,” she says. “I was just young and naive back then, but I know better now.”

“Good. Don’t ever let any man or woman treat you that way. Okay?”

His eyes are so full of care and concern for her that she thinks she might just cry.

“Okay,” she replies.

***

Harry loves writing about the initial euphoria that comes with falling in love. It’s intoxicating and exhilarating and all-consuming. Many of his most successful songs were inspired by this peculiar feeling. It’s no wonder that he keeps heading into the studio lately to harness all this creative energy and inject it into his music.

Today, Tom, Tyler, and Mitch are all in the studio with him. Mitch is riffing on his guitar while Harry adlibs over it when Jeff pokes his head into the room.

“H, Y/N’s here to see you,” he says.

Harry raises his brows. “She is?” She didn’t tell him that she’d be visiting the studio today.

“Yeah, she’s waiting out front.”

“Is she all right? Did she say why she’s here?”

Jeff shrugs. “No clue. She seemed fine.”

Y/N always seems “fine.” She’s quite skilled at pretending everything is okay when it’s not, which can be rather concerning. Harry tells the guys he’ll be back, then heads to the front of the studio where he finds his girlfriend staring at a wall decorated from top to bottom with framed album covers of legendary musicians.

“Hi, darling,” he says as he approaches.

She turns to him, eyes illuminating as soon as they meet his. “Hi! Sorry, I told Jeff not to go get you, but he did anyway.” She gives him an apologetic smile. “I hope you weren’t in the middle of something. I swear if you were writing your next Grammy-winning single and I just ruined your flow, I’ll be so mad at myself.”

“Stop it. You haven’t ruined anything.” He steps closer, taking her hands. “Now tell me what brought you here. Are you okay?”

He studies her as she replies, “Yes, I’m fine. I’m not here for any particular reason. I just…” She hesitates. “I needed to see you.” As soon as she says it, her eyes squeeze shut. “Fuck, that sounds so needy.”

“That’s okay. We all get needy sometimes. Do you want to sit in the studio with me?”

She bites her lip, giving it some thought before shaking her head.

“Okay.” He brings her hands between their bodies, swinging them apart and together again. “Then tell me what you need.”

“I—I need…” She glances down in the general direction of his crotch.

A smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. “You need…?”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t make me say it.”

He tilts his head to side, feigning innocence. “Say what?”

“Baby…”

He wanted to make her say it, but the pleading look in her eyes makes him cave. “You need my cock, is that it?”

“Shhh! Not so loud!” Her head spins around to make sure no one heard them.

He laughs. “There’s no one around, lovie.”

“Still!” She sighs and presses her hands against her flaming cheeks. “It’s not fair. You’ve been teasing me with it this whole week, and it’s all I can think about. Couldn’t even focus on my art today because I kept thinking about how…”—she drops her voice to a barely audible whisper—“how you would feel inside me.”

It’s been exactly a week since Y/N first hinted that she’s ready to go all the way with him. Harry was the one who wanted to put it off a little longer. He predicted that if he made her wait long enough, her hunger for it would overpower any anxiety that might crop up during the act.

Smiling, he brings his hand up to her cheek, her skin hot against his cool palm. “Aw, I know, sweetheart. You know the only reason I’ve been teasing is to make sure you’re ready for it.”

“I know. And I’m ready now. I really am.”

“Okay, but we can’t exactly do it here, you know that?”

“Why not? Isn’t there a bathroom in here somewhere?” She pushes up on her toes to look over his shoulder down the hallway where he came from.

“We’re not fucking in the studio bathroom, Y/N.”

She groans and lifts her hands up to his chest, scrunching his shirt between her fingers. “But I can’t wait any longer!”

“Yes, you can.” He wraps his hands around her wrists. “You’re going to be a good girl for me and wait until I pick you up from your flat tonight.”

She pouts and concedes, “Fine.”

He kisses her pout and gives her a hug that lasts for several minutes because she doesn’t want to let go and he never lets go until she does, so they’re in a standoff for who’s going to let go first until finally, Y/N releases him.

After that, the rest of the day moves at a snail-like pace. Harry can hardly focus; he’s too distracted by the thought of what’s to come tonight. Every lyric he comes up with sounds too raunchy to put in an actual song. Even his friends jokingly speculate about why he’s acting so strange—especially Tom, who just loves to make him squirm.

That evening, he has to make a conscious effort not to speed all the way to Y/N’s flat. The plan was to pick her up, take her back to his place, and maybe eat dinner before having their fun, but he thinks he’ll have to skip most of those steps.

Y/N buzzes him into her building. She’s on the second floor, so he doesn’t even bother with the elevator and takes the stairs two at a time. As soon as she lets him in, his mouth is on hers. She kisses him right back, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing up against him. They make their way to her bedroom and remove all their clothes, ending up on the bed with him on top of her.

“Naughty girl,” he says between kisses to her neck. “Came all the way to the studio because you were needy for my cock, hm?”

She covers her face with her hands. “H, don’t tease! I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”

He gently pulls her hands away from her face. “Don’t be embarrassed. Do you have any idea how sexy it is that you want me that badly? Got me all hot and bothered at the studio. Could barely keep myself together for the rest of the day.”

A mischievous little grin makes its way onto her face. “Really?”

“Yes, really. That’s the effect you have on me.” His hand drifts down between her legs to find that she’s already drenched, so he grabs his cock and runs the tip up and down her slit. When he looks back up at her face, there’s a hint of apprehension that wasn’t there before. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just remembered that I haven’t had something so, uh”—she swallows, glancing down at his cock—“big inside me in a while.”

“Do you want to be on top? That way, you can go at your own pace.”

“What if my pace is too slow and you can’t come?”

“What if I come two seconds after I’m inside you? Would you still love me?”

“Of course!”

“There’s your answer then.”

She squints at him, her lips curving up. “Well played.”

They switch positions so that she’s on top of him, straddling his hips while he leans back against the headboard. She carefully guides his cock up to her entrance, inserting the tip before lowering herself onto him. Her tight walls stretch and expand to accommodate him. She winces from the discomfort. He massages her hips, reminding her to take her time.

It takes her several attempts to get him all the way in, but once he’s there, the feeling is indescribable. He curses under his breath, closing his eyes briefly.

“Is that okay?” she asks.

“Perfect,” he responds in a strained voice. “It’s perfect.”

She seems reassured by his response and starts moving her hips in slow circles, getting used to having him inside her. Then she lifts up and sinks all the way down again. Soon enough, she’s riding him at a steady pace, her hands on his shoulders, her breasts swaying gorgeously in his face, beckoning him to place his hands over them. He has pictured this moment so many times, he can’t believe that it’s finally happening.

He starts thrusting up into her, meeting her halfway. As his thrusts become sharper, her jaw drops open.

“Harry—”

The sound of his name slipping out of her mouth like that, all salacious and full of yearning, is a drug he can see himself getting addicted to.

“Please,” she whines.

He slows down, worried that he might have been too rough. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just— Please don’t stop. It feels so good.”

“Feels good, huh? Someone finally fucking you like you deserve?”

She nods, her eyes rolling back as he resumes the movement of his hips.

“This is what it’s supposed to feel like,” he tells her. “Remember this.”

“Oh, I will.” She barely finishes her sentence before he pounds into her again.

He feels himself about to crest and reaches down to rub her clit. A final medley of moans and grunts leave their mouths as they come. Her pussy spasms around his pulsing length. As the waves of pleasure subside, her body goes completely slack in his arms, worn out from the intensity of the experience they just shared. She rests her head against his shoulder, basking in the afterglow while he brushes his fingers through her hair.

Her soft voice breaks through the silence. “I didn’t know it could feel this good. I’ve been missing out.”

“We’ve got plenty of time to catch you up. Don’t you worry.” He kisses the side of her head, earning a contented sigh from her.

***

Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

[weirdmorefics]

Can we get a Bridgerton sister reader who is over looked most of the time only noticed when they see the reader has a close relationship with queen weather they see notice her absents or lady Whistledown writes about it your choice

The Forgotten Twin

Bridgerton sister reader

A/n- I hope you like it I am still unsure if I do LOL

Angst

Pronouns- She/her

Word Count- 989

Summary- The reader is Daphne's twin often overshadowed and forgotten until a shocking announcement by Lady Whistledown.

Y/n was used to being overshadowed by her twin, it's been like this since they were born. Daphne seemed to always be one step in front of Y/n. She crawled first, walked first, and talked first, Y/n was used to it now at age twenty-one. However, she had been dreading this age since she had learned about coming out into society. She knew from the instant she heard about it that Daphne would outshine her. Though Y/n had given up caring that Daphne did everything before her and that her mother favored her because Y/n excelled in something Daphne never did, and that was her intelligence. She was quick-witted and had a sharp tongue due to being compared to Daphne her whole life. Her mother, of course, did not see this as a good quality to have as it is not a preferred trait by suitors. This is the main reason she has been dreading this event she knew it would just be another thing about her that disappoints her mother.

Even though Y/n's Mother and her brothers did not find her qualities preferable her sister Eloise loved them. Eloise was Y/n's twin personality wise but in appearance and age she was destined to be Daphne's twin in turn she was always destined to be compared to her. Y/n was losing her confidant, Eloise to Lady Whistledown and she was feeling more alone than ever.

Y/n spent her days getting fitted for coming-out gowns, practicing piano, and reading in her spare time. All of these activities were solitary minus the seamstress and maids.

When the day finally came for the ball it was really not a shock to anyone that Daphne was declared the diamond of the season. Y/n tried to blend into the wall, balls and dancing never being her scene and that would not start now. That was until the next ball when Lady Whistledown made a report about this year's diamond severely lacking any suitors and being outshined by the Fetherington's cousin.

One of the Queen's servants came to retrieve Y/n for a meeting with her Highness during the second ball of the season. At first, she couldn't breathe she was encapsulated by her worry that she must have done something truly horrid to offend the Queen what other reason would she have with her.

Y/n followed the servants in silence, worried they could hear her heart beating loudly. She stood before the Queen and summoned her best curtsey she could manage.

The Queen lowered her Galilean binoculars and looked into Y/n's eyes, "You are an interesting young lady, Y/n."

Y/n considers this to be a dream because there is no way this could be a reality it seems like a fantasy book she would have read.

"Now you may lack the social skills of your dear sister, but there is something about you." A small mischievous smile appears on the Queen's face.

After this encounter, Y/n would spend many days sneaking into the Queen's quarters without her family's knowledge. She didn't like not telling her family about the Queen's plan and their frequent meetings but the Queen saw something no one else saw in Y/N, potential.

Dearest Reader,

It would seem that our diamond of the season had a diamond in the rough in their very own family waiting for their moment to shine. The great jewelers say it takes just the right amount of pressure to make a rock a diamond and we all know our dear Y/n Bridgerton has been under pressure her whole to live up to Daphne. The Queen has certainly taken notice of Y/n's diamond potential and has now been having secret weekly meetings with the eldest Bridgerton daughter.

Y/n was completely unaware of the new announcement by Lady Whistledown. She just so happened to be getting ready for one of these aforementioned meetings with the Queen. As Y/n was on her way out the door she heard several pairs of heavy footsteps down the large staircase in their home.

"Y/n Bridgerton!" Shouted her mother.

Y/n quickly whipped around to face her mother with fear as she knew those fiery eyes well.

"How could you do this to your sister," she shouts holding up today's crumpled Lady Whistledown.

Daphne looked disappointed standing next to their Mama, "Daph... I am sorry. I didn't mean for you to find out this way." Y/n frowns figuring out instantly Daphne knew about her betrayal from her eyes.

"What did you think would happen? That no one would ever notice you sneaking in and out of the Queen's quarter with her hundreds of servants," Daphne judged Y/n.

Eloise interrupted the argument, "How odd you don't even seem to notice Y/n's presence until she does something you disapprove of," Eloise glared which made Y/n smile she wasn't used to being stood up for.

Eloise puts a finger to her chin, "I also find it odd that Y/n is getting all the blame when Daphne wouldn't be suitorless if it wasn't for Anthony's constant meddling in her affairs."

Benedict and Colin held back their chuckles at Eloise's bluntness and Y/n smiled widely. It felt like they were seeing her even though the cause was bad her siblings were still being there for her.

Y/n ran up and hugged Eloise and she responded with a triumphant smile.

Daphne sighed, "I am sorry Y/n... the season has been rough on us all. Mother and I shouldn't have come down on you so hard. We should be there for each other, not always competing."

Y/n had to blink away tears, these are words she has always wanted to hear from Daphne. All she could respond was thank you and hope Daphne understood how much Y/n meant it.

[amoxxii]

"Pernicious Present" Pt.1

Feyd Rautha x Suk Doctor! Reader

Summary: The greatest gift from Emperor Shaddam to House Harkonnen is a ticking time bomb wrapped neatly in a ribbon. Warning: Death, Blood, Torture part 2 (I've never read Dune. This is written based purely on the movie and a quick search.) "What a dull knife," you comment. Feyd has just slashed through his servants moments ago. "Since when did I allow you to speak?" The Na-Baron growls as he sharply turns to face your display of intrusive thoughts. It would be a death wish to anger him right after he had exhibited his rage. But to you, it is just another move in your scheme.

You know that Feyd doesn't have the power to kill you, not yet. All the tears you had wept and sweat you had shed through the Suk School were not wasted. The position: Baron Vladimir Harkonnen's personal Suk Doctor is what keeps your head on your shoulders. Reminiscing, the road to this status has been nothing like a flowery path. The school was hellish, and the exam was arduous, but nothing came close to gaining the Baron's trust.

Since you were sent to Giedi Prime as a gift from the Imperial, Baron Harkonnen had suspected you greatly. His Highness has started to view you in a better light when you dedicated yourself to cease the epidemic in Geidi Prime. There was a terrible spread of the black plague, stemming from rotten corpses to grass to trees to livestock. All had come to a stop because of your findings. Burning the dead with flame has been a custom ever since. It was clear that you possessed the qualities of intelligence, diligence, and efficiency. But what remained in the dark was your trustworthiness. So, he put you to the test by making you screen his food to detect any trace of malice, hoping your true nature would be revealed. The first few feasts were fine, intended to lower your guard. He then made Feyd bring out Safran Şerbeti. The cordial was undoubtedly spiked with venom as instructed by the Baron. The Baron suggested that you could waive the inspection of the gift brought by his nephew, as he wished to avoid straining the connection by revealing any distrust. But just from the sniff, you could tell that the drink was laced. You whispered to the Baron, 'Please do not take this drink, my lord.' Lord Harkonnen chuckled loudly. He beamed, 'Are you suspecting my heir? You must be out of your mind.' The Na-Baron added, 'Is this one of your dog's little tricks, uncle?' Feyd quirked to the Baron. 'Do you want to savor my uncle's exquisite food that much?' Feyd mocked with a baby voice. 'Don't touch that goblet, I beg of you,' you pleaded, ignoring Feyd's scoffing. The Baron shrugged you off, stretching his hand to fetch the golden liquid. You frantically snatched the chalice. 'Ha! Even your tail is wagging! This dog really wants to have a taste!' Feyd rubbed the salt to your wound. 'You left me no choice, my lord,' you surrendered. 'I will prove it to you that the lovely nephew of yours meant to take your life.' You drowned the whole goblet in one go. Consciousness left your body as the grail rolled on the floor. The world of black and white turned to a muddy grey. The Baron clapped, impressed by your devotion. You cleared all the rightful skepticism by putting your life before his and saving him. Once the Baron's trust was secured, your plan began.

[mikobeautifulheart]

As requested part 2 of 4 or 5??

JJK MEN Pretending to be your boyfriend/saving you form creeps.

INCLUDING: Gojo and Geto

TW: Cat calling and creeps. Okay so I did ues swear words and you getting sexualised ig?

Also unedited. Quantity > Quality

°Gojo°

You guys were coming back from a mission. You didn't even know what you were sent if they already sent Gojo but when you looked at his face you could see his eyes blood shot. Even on the mission Gojo was at his breaking point. Killing everything regardless of damage or repercussions. It was lole he was going to go insane.

When the mission was done you two were going to walk to the nearest hotel Ichi had set a booking in for you. It was dark already and the bars opened up. And people were already stumbling out drunk.

You were walking next to Gojo with your skin covered in goose bumps. Gojo must have noticed because he wrapped his arm around your waist. Your shoulderd visibleie untensed. It kept getting darker and the street lights turned on. Only a few miles away from the hotel when.

"LITTLE WOMANNNN" A man yelled behind you. You ignored it thinking it could have been someone else on the totally empty street.

"WAIT FOR MEEEEE" He yelled. You turned your head seeing he was stumbling after you.

You kept walking of blighting your lip hoping that it would blow over with Gojo to.

"Fuckin' bitch." He mumbled

"I bet your jUST A PROSTITUTE ANY WAY." He yelled near the end making you wince.

Immediately your side felt cold as Gojo has seemingly disappeared.

"Look, buddy, we tried to ignor you because your drunk, but now you have to apologise."

"Your just her client there's no reason for my to apologise when its true."

Spatter of blood on the side walk and 2 teeth.

"I'm not jer client prick. I'm her boyfriend. And she's not a prostitute so you have no chance."

You thought the man's jaw was broken as he fell to the pavement. Noted. Never insult you or get beaten by Gojo.

He turned his head and looked at you.

"You alright" He said as he slowly started to walk back to you.

You ran to him throwing your arms around him. No infinity, just a tierd Gojo.

"Thank you" you said on the edge of treears. Something about Gojo standing up for you made you feel so welcomed into this life, that there was something to love.

"I meant it. I mean if you want. But I really do want to be your boyfriend" He said now red.

"I want that to" you said in his chest as he patted your back.

♧Geto♧

It was the afternoon when you called Geto to met you at a Cafe, but not for anything good. You knew Geto was the only one who wasn't on a mission at the moment. You had been getting disturbing messages all afternoon while you were in the Cafe. All of them taken by someone inside. You didn't want the to follow you home, if they did, and you didn't want to walk alone.

When Geto got there he saw you inside staring at you phone wide eyed. He walked in and sat across from you making you flinch and pull your eyes away from you phone. Looking up at him. You looked mortified as you tried to give him a gentle smile.

"Whats wrong" He said genuinely concerned. Hes never seen you loke this, your usually so brave and courageous but when it came to people you were so fragile.

You slid the phone over the tabe. Geto sensed something was wrong. He looked down seeing all the images and some weird messages before scrolling higher and higher.

"How long" He said bluntly

"It started last week but it was just text's... now that it's photos..." You mubled lowering your head.

Immediately Geto gets up and gose over to the counter. You grabbed your phone and followed him quickly. Before you could even ask Geto punched the cahsire in the face.

"Leave my girlfriend alone" He said.

"SUGURU" you said shocked at his sudden actions.

"Hes the creep that's been taking g photos of you. Look his phone is right here." Geto picked it up and to no surprise revealed the camera still open.

You looked mortified at the creep holding his cheek on the floor.

"Come on let's go" Geto said cold grabbing your hand and walking out the Cafe with you.

"Thank...you Suguru. I appreciate it."

He leaned down gave you a peck on you cheek making you flush red. He let out a chuckle at your face.

THANK YOU FOR READING ♡

AUTHOURS NOTE: Next one has Nanami and Sukuna in it so that will be later today. Imma have a break for a while so hope u enjoyed this.

EDIT: Here's the link to part 3. I ended up doing Nanami and Toji firstttt

[mikelogan]

gif tutorial

i was asked to make a tutorial for this set i made, so let's get right into it!

first things first, i downloaded the music videos from youtube in 1080p using 4k video downloader. unfortunately, the quality of youtube videos always seems... not great, to put it simply. plus these music videos are from the 90s, so they've been upscaled to 1080p after the fact. all of this works against us, but i've definitely worked with videos of lesser quality than these, so at least there's that!

when i gif, i import video frames to layers rather than screencapping. this comes down to personal preference. after everything has loaded, i group all my layers together and set the frame delay to 0.05. i then cropped my gif to 540x500.

the next step in my process is sharpening. i did play around with my settings a bit given the quality of the footage and the dimensions of the gif. i compared both @hellboys low-quality video gif tutorial to my regular sharpening action and my vivid sharpening action and in this case, i preferred my normal vivid sharpening action. i used this tutorial to create the action for myself, and you can find other sharpening tutorials here. this action converts my frames to video timeline and applies sharpening.

once my gif is sharpened and i'm in timeline, i begin coloring. i wanted to simplify the amount of colors used in these gifs, again because of the video quality -- i knew it wasn't going to have the crispness i would normally like for my gifs. here are my coloring adjustment layers and their settings (not pictured: my first layer is a brightness/contrast layer set to screen) (explanation in alt text):

all of these layers and their settings will vary depending on your footage and its coloring (and obviously, feel free to make the gradient map whatever colors you like if you aren't going for this exact look).

pretty basic coloring, especially with just slapping a gradient map on top (my beloved), but at this point, i still didn't like the quality of the gif, so i added a couple textures/overlays.

i put the left one down first and set the blending mode to soft light and the opacity to 8%. depending on what look you're going for, you could increase or decrease the opacity or play around with different blending modes. i like using this texture with lower quality footage because even when it's sized up a bit, it adds some crispness and makes things feel more defined. for the second texture, i set it to overlay and 75% opacity. we love and respect film grain in this house.

now for the typography! sometimes i really enjoy typography and other times it's the bane of my existence for the sole reason of just how many fonts i have installed. anyway, here are the settings i used for this set:

make sure the color of your font is white and then set the blending mode to either difference or exclusion. i can almost never see a difference between the two, but for this set, i used exclusion. below are the blending options (double click on your text layer to bring up this menu or right click and select blending options).

now we have to add the warp effect. with your text tool still selected, click this icon at the top of your screen:

from the dropdown menu, select twist. these were my settings, but feel free to play around with different warp options and their settings. the ones i use most often are flag, fish, and twist.

this last step is completely optional, but it's an effect i use in most of my sets with typography. duplicate your text layer (select the layer and ctrl+j), turn off the layer effects (click the eye icon next to effects), and set the blending mode to normal. right click on the layer and select rasterize type. right click on the layer icon itself and choose select pixels.

at this point, you should see the moving black and white dotted line showing that only your text is selected. then go to edit > stroke. here are the settings i almost exclusively use.

this is what your text should look like now:

using ctrl+T, move the layer off the canvas so you can't see any of the text anymore. you should be left with only your outline. click anywhere on your canvas to de-select the text we just moved. use ctrl+T again as well as your arrow keys to nudge the outline over to the left 2px and up 2px. this is personal preference as far as the positioning, but i almost never move it any other way. you can leave it like this, which i sometimes do, or you can set the blending mode to soft light like i did for a more subtle effect.

and that's it! rinse and repeat for each gif in your set or use a different warp effect on each gif to switch it up! if you have any questions about this tutorial or would like me to make one for anything else, please feel free to ask any time!

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ you make me feel like I am clean again ❞

yandere!mob leaders x gn!reader | how you met | not proofread

warnings: graphic description of violence, guns, power imbalance (r! is part of the gang but they are a low-ranking member), yandere tendencies, mentions of drug dealings, very brief mention of r! getting felt up by someone in JH's section

masterlist ;

authors note: doing some oc writing feels lowkey daunting but I hope you guys enjoy it, I wasn't exactly sure how to format this aaaa but! I hope it isn't too confusing. I wanted to go more into depth but I suppose this serves as an introductory post to them??? IDK, I've never written this kinda thing before. * here is the better-quality post of the illustration * song on repeat: Love Song by Mariee Sioux

Kim Seo-Yun —

Seo-Yun would be unimpressed the first time she laid her eyes on you. It wouldn't be due to your looks, mannerisms, voice; she's just been hardwired that way.

Wants and needs are hard to convey when you're running one of the most dangerous businesses one could run. Drugs, gambling, skin, weapons — Seo-Yun's a busy woman.

Over time, however, she'll let her gaze linger on you.

Have you always looked so good in that colour? It really does bring out the shine in your eyes, and the suppleness of your lips. Seo-Yun's gaze is intimidating but seeing you squirm is all a part of your charm.

That's right. You're only dressing and acting this way to grab her attention, correct? Why else would she find it so hard to rip her sights from you?

Honestly, she shouldn't be making such frequent trips to the lower ring of her gang. This warehouse was meant to weed out the weakest of her guard dogs. It reeked of sweat and blood and cigarettes and cheap booze. The constant sounds of wrapped knuckles beating down on sandbags and bodies falling on thin mats gave her a headache.

Yet. She stands here on the second floor, gazing down at the sweaty men, a handful of women, and most importantly; you.

Favoritism comes slower than her interests. Seo-Yun will shove her feelings down until it bursts like a fucking volcano. All of a sudden, it's as if she's a hound that's caught the scent of their kill.

"What?" The man before you is wearing an expensive suit, luxury adorning him from the shimmering cuffs to the stitching that holds it together. "Madam Kim is requesting your transfer," he says curtly.

The transfer promotes you from doing grunt work near a polluted harbor to one of Seoul's most expensive penthouses in Gangnam.

It's jarring. She does not give you time to adjust. One moment you're setting down your duffel bag of things and the next you're in the back of a luxury car driving through Seoul's wealthiest district.

The guards (who are double your size and proudly show off their facial scars) push you toward the door of a seamstress. The very air you breathe smells like money.

When you see Seo-Yun, your eyes widen and you kneel to bow.

She muffles her amusement with a slow drag of her cigarette.

"They're very pretty, Madam Seo-Yun," a kindly old lady says from behind her. Her hands were bony and delicate, and the pin cushion she wore around her wrist looked heavy. Everything about her seemed deliberate and put together.

Despite that, despite the glamorous patterns she had on her and the jewelry hanging from her ears; Seo-Yun called for eyes on her with no more than a simple wave of her hand, flicking the ashes away from the cigarette.

"Aren't they? Such a gem."

Seo-Yun orders you to be a part of her security team. Dresses you in custom-made suits to blend in with the rest of the capable men and women. She gives you new weapons and arranges for you to have an apartment near hers. New fake IDs in store, local beat cops turning their gaze away as you smoke in alleyways with an obvious bulk under your jacket.

A gem she called you. And like a gem, she cannot keep her eyes off you.

Stares at you as if you were put on display. Relishes in the way you keep your gaze down, squaring your shoulders, straightening your posture — squirming under her gaze.

"Come inside," you freeze at her words. The other security guards stand stoically in the private entryway of her penthouse and she stands on the threshold of that obscenely large and heavy door.

"Madam?" you squeak out. She narrows her upturned eyes, like a goddess with no mood to be asked twice.

This is a nightly occurrence. It becomes a routine.

She invites you into her home, leaving the door open for you to close on your way in. She sits on the tufted leather sofa, and her grin is expectant.

You kneel. Then, you bring your palms to the floor and crawl towards her. Only stopping when your chin is on her knee and you bring your eyes to meet hers.

"Sweet thing," she'll coo. Her palm is soft and cared for, but there is the slightest bit of callousness here and there. That roughness that comes with holding a gun to someone's head.

The first time she had told you to kneel, you'd been so confused you stood there like a statue. Seo-Yun gives you a minute to let it click, and she tilts her head as you jerkily kneel on her expensive floors.

"Crawl to me."

"Sweet darling," she continues. Your eyes flutter close as she traces your cheekbones with her thumb. "So good for me, so obedient, aren't you?"

How could you not be?

In the weeks you'd been with her, your life took such a drastic turn. Well-fed, well-cared for, and pampered in little but big ways. You were the runt of the litter, a stray, she told you.

She had seen you, she said. She had seen your potential, your drive, your passion.

"I was...I just, I just needed the money, Madam," you sheepishly admit that first night, balancing your chin on her knee.

Who would choose to become the grunt of a dangerous gang? Miniscule soldiers with dreams of dying a movie-worthy death, of brotherly bonds between hardened criminals — Please. You were at the end of your rope, this was the only option before the noose.

"Money is life," Seo-Yun strokes over your cheeks. "You fought to live, climbed through the muddy filth of the pier, and here you are. In my lap."

"I see you, (Y/N)."

"Are you tired?" the shake of your head earns a firm squeeze on your jaw. Your eyes flutter open so she grins sweetly.

"Bathe with me." She lifts your chin and you stand, taking her into your arms as she tugs on the shoulder gun strap you wore, leading you along like a leash. A security guard's job does not include such tasks. You're aware. But how could you say no to the most powerful woman in Seoul?

Your relationship starts off with a clear dynamic. You belong to Seo-Yun, no ifs or buts. No matter how dubious your feelings towards her are, you cannot deny there is such a lovely prospect of being a powerful person's beloved.

Or gem. Or pet. Or...whatever it is Seo-Yun considers you as.

All you know is you are hers and she expects nothing but loyalty and excellence from you. She dresses you in the best, feeds you the best foods, your mattress is hers and therefore it is fit for a Queen.

How spoiled are you, (Y/N)?

So spoiled you do not even realise the pretty cage she's put around you. Don't realise that those pearly white gates are her own teeth as she closes her jaws; too distracted by the gifts, the love, she showers you in.

Exactly how she wants you to be. Pliant, demure, and hers.

So what if your old friends suddenly never contact you again? Or your financial dependence has suddenly been transferred to her? If you never hold a gun in your hands ever again.

"Crawl to me, baby."

And you do. And she grins as she holds your face.

"Good pet."

Kim Jeong-Hyun —

Jeong-Hyun is a peculiar man. Some would argue he's barely a man; others would chime that he's barely human. The sight of the deep scars on his body; the mutilated side of his face. His left ear was chewed off, his left eye cloudy, and a good chunk of his lips ripped off to reveal gums and teeth.

Even if he wasn't a monster; he looked it. That was enough to set people on edge. Seemingly unaware of how he plants the fear of God within people, Jeong-Hyun stares at everyone with a dark gaze that could make the devil shiver.

Unlike his older sister, who hides her emotions until they spill over the edge, he makes his interest known from the beginning.

His good eye, lighter than any brown you've ever seen; a molten hazel that flashes gold in sunlight, devours you as he stands before you.

Although Madam Seo-Yun attends the funerals of her fallen men, she does not linger for the drinking and eating. Jeong-Hyun does.

You'd excused yourself from your circle, the drinks making your body warm enough to endure the cold night air as you light up a cigarette.

The clicking of nails on the brick ground forces you to look at the whimpering dog. Mangy, fur matted, and with its stubby legs like rubber as it paws at your shoe. It was someone's pet, left on the streets. Judging from the overgrown fur, it's been a while since someone's given it any kindness.

Jeong-Hyun had just walked out for a breather (he enjoys spending time with his men, but the noises and the scent of booze could get overwhelming), a bag of meat in hand as he set his sights on feeding the local strays.

But then he sees you crouched by an alleyway, pouring some cheap kibble you bought from a nearby convenience store onto some newspaper. Jeong-Hyun's footsteps are ghostlike, you don't even notice he's there until you feel his breath whisper along your ear and when you spin he's statue-like.

"B — Boss!" He's not the boss — he's just her brother. He still outranked you (by a whole league) so, he doesn't correct you as you bow your head so far down it's between your knees.

He looks silly crouched down in his two-piece suit. You're dressed formally, though the two of you were in different financial brackets. Jeong-Hyun does not speak. The pinkish scar that runs across his neck peeks from the collar of his button-up. It has your toes curling just imagining what had caused it.

He nudges the plastic bag your way, and you cautiously take it from him. To your surprise, he squishes his eyes into crescent moons, and despite his scarred cheek lifting from behind the black surgical mask he wore he looked so...innocent.

The rounded shape of his eyes, the deep crease of his eyelid, and his brows - it all makes him look boyish.

You turn your attention to the strips of expensive beef he had gotten, feeding the poor puppy in silence.

Jeong-Hyun's interest begins with him accompanying your crew as you were tasked to make a show of a traitor. He shoves the blade your way, hilt tilted your way as he connects his gaze with you.

The leader of your crew informs him you are new. He does not even pretend to hear him.

You took the blade, the forged metal heavier than you expected it to be but not impossibly so. It seemed as though it was his favorite, a little longer than a dagger but still small enough to hide under your clothes. Weighing it on your palm, you test the balance of it before gripping it tightly and Jeong-Hyun is entranced by the casual dominance you have over it.

The man before you, on his knees with his cut lip hanging heavily and his eyes so bruised you wonder how he can still see you enough to squeak in fear; he shivers and bows desperately.

"How do you want him, boss?" You glance at him, the grip on the blade strong and confident. He narrows his eyes then closes his eyes, jerking his chin forward.

' However you see fit. '

Jeong-Hyun falls in love with your violence.

Asking for you, always. Giving you food to bring back, giving you new knives and even transferring you to his personal squad of men and women. He'd even invited you into his home. Which, apparently, was not unusual but no one had ever had the pleasure of being able to see the pack of dogs he had.

He starts hanging around you more. His favoritism is hard to mask and it causes you more issues than you'd like to admit.

"You're his little bitch now, huh?" or "His cock tastes good, (Y/N)?"

But who can say no when their boss tells them they want you to follow him around, be his shadow, do nothing more than observe boring meetings and itching for the usual vulgarity of mobsters while you're stood by the wall or behind him?

The madam is not impressed by you. Whenever she speaks to her brother, she will cast a glance filled with nothing more than mild bemusement and disgust.

"Hey, boss," he tilts his head in your direction. You're sat in a barbeque restaurant, and he's watching you intently as you flip the meat, licking his exposed teeth with an almost canine-like attribute.

"...Can I ask you a question?" Jeong-Hyun nods, tearing his eyes away to now look at you. They're almost golden, you think to yourself, the colour of his eyes is so bright.

"Why do you favour me?"

Jeong-Hyung, you come to find out, does not speak. The scar you see peeking from his high collars was apparently a wound that had gone so deep, it took the ability for him to speak comfortably. So Jeong-Hyun signs; "What does that mean?"

"Favour?" You ask and he nods.

"Well, it means, why do you...like me...?"

Jeong-Hyung blinks for a few seconds then tells you to flip the meat. The conversation seemingly ends. That is until you find yourself in his home and he has invited you to his basement.

The dogs bark from behind the doggy gate, a hallway away feeling like a stretch of land as their noises echo. In the basement, you find yourself surrounded by crusted blood and metal. He lifts a dagger and shows it to you. It takes a moment for you to recognize it, it's been weeks since you've held it, but then your brows furrow.

"You kill good. Like me, I like that. I like you," he signs while you hold the dagger. "You like me?" He nods, pulling his black mask away from his face, and grins. It's surreal to see, not exactly grotesque but an unusual sight.

"I like you," he signs.

When his enthusiasm is met with confusion, Jeong-Hyun's face contorts into worry.

He takes the dagger from your hand, places it down, then holds your hands in his. He's tall, towering easily over you as he brings your knuckles to his lips.

He has essentially muted himself. Focusing his strength on keeping your hands hostage as he walks forward until your back meets the smoothed limewash walls of his basement.

"Boss? I'm flattered, but this is a lot to take in....!"

His cloudy eye is in a perpetual squint, healed scars tugging on the skin so it looks almost uncomfortable stretched. They have so much sadness that you feel guilt sprout in you.

'Love me,' they say, 'Love me, love me, lovemelovemelovemelovemelovemeloveme'

Your relationship is dubious. The jeers from your comrades make you feel more flustered than before and Jeong-Hyun is not shy about his affections.

He holds your hands in meetings and traces the shapes of your fingers and joints.

When a snake requires a beheading, Jeong-Hyun takes off your jacket for you and hands you a weapon of his choice. The men who snicker at the sight? Jeong-Hyun is not fond of guns but he so does love it when his sister presses her Beretta to the back of their necks and makes them gasp and sputter.

Madam Seo-Yun may not like you but you matter too much to her little brother for her to allow their insubordinate to make fun of you.

Jeong-Hyun is like a touch-starved puppy. Despite his towering size, he crumbles under your touch, your gaze.

"My brother, he is naive to relationships," Seo-Yun informs you during a lunch meeting. "I noticed, Madam," you shrink under her gaze. How is it she has the same shade of eyes and hers are so, so, so cold?

"But he likes you, favours you I think is the word he used. He has never liked someone before. Not as strongly as this. I suppose I should advise you to take some caution."

"My brother's love comes with a storm of violence. It runs in the family, I'm afraid. Please, don't be frightened by his displays."

You didn't quite understand what she meant.

He'd never been violent to you. You had witnessed him kill before, torture, maim — it was not an unusual sight in your line of work.

You didn't understand until you saw it.

Another funeral, more drinks, more meat. Jeong-Hyun has you beside him, eagerly awaiting your metal chopsticks to place more grilled beef onto his plate.

No one laughs at the sight anymore, they treat you as an extension of Jeong-Hyun which, considering how he monopolies your time, you might as well be. It's rare to see you without him.

But as you got up to wash your hands — someone had spilled their drinks and your hand became sticky — an inebriated man had pressed himself against you.

"You must be a good lay if *hic* Jeong-Hyun-ssi keeps you around, riiight? C'mon, just a quickie, c'mon," "Fuck! Get away from me!"

Jeong-Hyun's hand grabs the back of the man's head, rears it backward, and slams it right into the sink. It shatters, the man yells, people around you scream; but Jeong-Hyun tightens his grip, rears his hand back, and slams him down again.

By the end of that public fiasco, the man's head was obliterated so badly, his face was no longer there. Just shredded skin, muscle, and shattered bone and brain matter.

Madam Seo-Yun's gaze on you is heavy in the car. Jeong-Hyun lumbers in, his hand covered with tissues and you immediately pull the bloody fist to your lap. Approval shines in her eyes as you apply pressure and ask if it hurts.

Well, you couldn't say she didn't warn you now, could you?

[ellieslittleburrow]

Coming home late..doesn't keep Dean okay.

Summery : You've been acting out, lately. Or at least that's what Sam and Dean called it. For you it was just having fun, living. That is until Dean couldn't take it anymore...

Warnings : a bit of a violent behaviour, stern brother

Pairings : Dean winchester x sister reader

A/n : AHA WHATS THAT TITLE. Also i'm sorry if this brings bad memories to any of you guys ❤️ Comments are much appreciated peeps 🌸

-----

"Lookie here"

A voice you have so carelessly gotten used to, tinted with a hint of disappointment and of passive aggressiveness. "Miss wild life has just come back from her adventures."

You sighed as your boots tiredly thump the metallic steps of the bunker and Dean emerged through the metallic columns.

"What?" You threw your arms out. "Am i not allowed to go out now? Should i ask for your permission for everything?" You spat out. Fucker really had to do this as soon as you came back home?

"No!" Dean rose from the chair and dangerously made his way to you. "You could've answered the phone one of the 10 times i called, though!" He sounded enthusiastic for a second. "Or maybe just gotten home on time." And then that enthusiasm shifted to disappointment. And after a few seconds of silence, he spoke again, his voice fatigued. "What are you doing, kid?"

It was a simple 4 worded question. But the answer to it requiered a few shrinks and lots of writing. You didn't know why you were acting this way, really. To you it was no big deal. Why do they want to force everything on you? Get home at this hour, wear this and not that, eat, don't talk to that person, don't haunt this and that...You were just done with all this attention to the little details that meant nothing to you...You just..wanted them to notice you, what you liked, your qualities, the fact that you knew well enough how to haunt. There was also the fact that...handling things on your own was no longer a possibility..The pain, the nightmares, the memories.

"I'm not doing anything, Dean. I just got home like-" You stop to look at your watch. "A fucking hour late. Boohoo, what a big fucking dea-"

"LILY."

You stop! Faltering for a tiny moment before quickly recovering, adrenaline pumping through your body.

"Don't raise your voic-"

You'd spoke but Dean interrupted you, closing the gap between you, sending you staggering backwards. But you still hold your head up high, chest puffed up and ready to fight...cleching your fists as your hands trembled.

"i don't think you understand, lily." Your brother wrapped his hand around your arm, looming over your -what felt like- tiny body. You held your gaze down. Are you still going to fight? Or are you going to apologize and move on?

"It's not because i let you loose that it's actually acceptable for you to behave this way. I understand that you're angry and that you're taking it out on me-"

"that's fucking stupi-"

Fight it is..

"it's not stupid, you're acting out like you're five."

"i swear to god and i promise you, if you ever do this again, lily, you're done. And not done the way you usually are. I promise you that if you do this ever again, i will make sure you never forget that day. "

You scoff and shrug, the perfect cocktail for Dean's eyes to go lower, darker. Angrier. But all that bitterness washed away... and he nodded, slowly.

"Okay then" He let go of your arm and you internally wished he didn't. It felt now like you'd rather he grounds you and yells, because that smile meant that whatever was coming, was going to be much worse.

"Since you're all grown up and ready to take care of yourelf, let me change it up for you."

Much worse indeed..

He stood up straight and you shrunk again. You didn't want this!!! This is not what you had in m-

"We've already got enough problems on our plate, you acting out, with your temper tantrums and your shit-" He shakes his hands. " i'm not having it."

You'd speak up...apologize..But you're too angry and terrified to even think. Let alone talk.

"You do this shit again, you're out. Capiche?"

You opened your mouth to speak but!- you're stunned. And a lump grew heavy in your throat as regret set in....

"And you watch your language, or else i promise you i'll smack your face so bad your jaw will hurt."

Your eyebrows stood up in surprise..Never has Dean EVER been this violent. And by the looks of it, he meant it. He meant all of it. Every single word. And you...you-

You burst into tears, choking as saliva pooled in your mouth. You've never felt such things and-and you don't get why he'd eve-

"I asked you a question, lily." He thundered but you were in no state that would get you to stop crying, anytime soon. Only an unintentional whimper escaped your lips. "Lily, i asked you a question." He demanded again, groaning higher.

You nod, hoping it would get him off you but...that only infuriorates him more. "ANSWER ME."

his tone turned more violent, piercing your ears and you nodded again. "Yeah. Yes-I I understand." Your lips trembling as your upper body leaned away from him.

Just then does he let go of your arm. "'Out of my face now, kid."

Without hesitation, you stepped aside, heading for your room.

You placed the back of your hand on your mouth, covering it before another wave of tears comes in.

You might've fucked up, badly this time, as Dean has never been this mean to you. And it just felt like....John and Sam all over again.

You had to do something about. But it could wait. Until Sam came back.

--------

Ola, yall! I love writing angst 😭😭😭 What do we think???? ❤️❤️❤️🥀🥀🥀

[justagalwhowrites]

Wonderland

You and Joel get away for your first wedding anniversary.

A canon Lavender No Outbreak AU one shot inspired by a request for a fic based on the song "Your Body is a Wonderland." Can be read as a stand alone fic with the understanding that Joel and Reader have been together for years and are married with a daughter. You can find the original Lavender here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from the Lavender No Outbreak AU (AKA Joel and Doc)

Length: 6.9k

Warnings: Smut :D! Oral sex; unprotected P in V sex; reader is described as being post-pregnancy and having a different body as a result but no broader description of her body beyond the fact that she has hair; age gap (reader is late 20s, Joel is late 30s.) No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only.

January 2005

“Baby.” 

Joel’s hand found the small of your back but you didn’t look back at him. You stayed focused on the child in your arms, on her brown eyes and dark curls and skin so soft all you wanted to do was nuzzle into her and breathe in her sweet, baby scent. 

“It’s gonna be fine,” your husband pressed a kiss - gentle and slow - to your temple. “We’re only gonna be a few hours away…” 

“I know,” you said softly. Evie made a breathy little baby sound and you smiled. Couldn’t help it. 

“Tommy’s watched a baby before,” Joel continued as you swayed with your daughter. His hand shifted so it was below your shirt and on the bare skin of your lower back. “And Sarah will be here, too. And it’s just for two nights.” 

“But she’s never been apart from me,” you said softly, tears pinching at the back of your throat as you brushed her hair away from her little forehead. “What if she’s afraid? She’s going to look for me, she always looks for me right when she wakes up and I won’t be here and what if she can’t calm down and she doesn’t keep food down when she isn’t calm and…” 

“Hey,” he said, taking your chin delicately in his fingers and turned your head to face him. He smiled gently, his brown eyes soft and crinkling at the edges. “I promise, it’s gonna be OK. We can be back here real quick if something goes wrong and she’s with family. It’s OK.” 

You looked back at your baby girl. She wasn’t even a year old yet, it seemed too soon to be going away for a weekend, no matter how much you really wanted to. 

One of the downsides to getting married just a few months before having a baby was that you didn’t get much time to enjoy married life before it became all about the new life you’d brought into the world. 

Of course, Sarah had always been top priority for both you and Joel but, since she was a teenager, you could rely on her to look out for herself some so the two of you could get quality time. Before Evie was born, you and Joel regularly went out just the two of you. You could leave Sarah at home with cash for a pizza or she’d go to sleep over at her friend Lizzie’s place and you and your husband could go and make out at the back of a movie theater like teenagers.

A baby was a whole other story. 

You’d always loved children, loved spending time with them and seeing how they experienced everything, all of it brand new in their eyes. It was a joy to watch them discover themselves and the world and you adored hearing their thoughts as they puzzled through everything from basic societal rules to trying to figure out if there was a meaning to life. But you hadn’t been prepared for just how attached you’d be to your own child, who was both so much larger than she’d been when you’d given birth to her but still so impossibly small and fragile that even having her in another room made you anxious. It took months longer than it really should have for her to consistently sleep through the night because you kept checking on her, ensuring that she was still breathing and lying in the position that was supposed to be safest and that she didn’t seem bothered by dreams or colic. 

Being a few hours away was terrifying. 

But it was your first wedding anniversary with Joel and you really wanted it to be special. Wanted time just the two of you that you hadn’t had in the months since your daughter had been born. You missed being able to spend hours and hours with nothing in the world besides you and your husband. 

You just needed space from the baby to get that. 

So Joel had booked the hotel you went to for your wedding night the weekend of your anniversary and gotten Tommy to agree to stay at the house with Evie and Sarah for the two nights you’d be gone. You’d overheard him talking with his brother about it a month earlier, when Tommy was over for dinner and you’d gotten up to change Evie. 

“I’ll leave good instructions but you can’t be callin’ all the time,” Joel was saying as you made it to the living room, Evie squirming in your arms. “She’s gonna be a nervous wreck, rather just stay here if…” 

“Joel,” Tommy said, voice soothing. “I got your girls, it’s alright. Handled Sarah when she was that age, right?” 

“You’re why I can’t do exponents,” Sarah said dryly. “Dropped me on my head a few too many times…” 

“Someone needed to reel you in,” Tommy replied and you could hear the teasing wink in his voice. “Can’t have you being too smart now.”

“Mean it,” Joel said, tone serious. “Need you to actually do this…” 

“Joel,” he replied. “I got her. It’s alright.” 

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Tommy. You did. You just didn’t know how to be this far away from your daughter, knowing how vulnerable she was and how much she needed you for everything. 

But you needed time for you and your husband, too. You were so dangerously close to getting lost in your identity as a mother, already struggling to remember just what you were before Evie existed. You needed a weekend away. Some distance would be good, for the both of you. 

“Come on, Mama,” Tommy smiled, holding his arms out. “Gimme that one and you two love birds get on the road. I promise if something goes wrong, I’ll call.” 

“But you won’t need to,” Joel said, raising his eyebrows at his brother. “Right?” 

“Course not,” Tommy waved him off. “We’re gonna have the best time, Uncle Tommy is going to be her favorite person, just you wait.” 

You sighed and nodded, pressing your lips to Evie’s soft little forehead and breathing in her sweet baby smell before passing her off to Tommy’s waiting arms. He pulled her into his chest and smiled, wide and open mouthed, making a happy coo. She cooed back, reaching her tiny hands up toward his face. 

“I know,” he said, voice high and childish. “I’m so much better lookin’ than your daddy! Yes I am! And so are you!” 

“Be a good girl,” you said as Evie totally ignored you in favor of her uncle. “Love you so much, big sister will be home soon and…” 

“Kid,” Tommy looked up from your daughter in his arms to meet your eyes. “I’ve got this. Go have fun.”

“Thanks again, Tommy,” Joel said. 

“But…” you began but Joel just shook his head and looped an arm around your waist, tugging you to his side and guiding you to his waiting truck. 

“You grabbed the bags?” You looked up at Joel and he smiled a little.

“Sure did.”

“And Tommy has the number for the hotel in case we don’t have signal?” 

“The hotel and the restaurant we have reservations at tomorrow and even the diner next door with the good waffles since I figure we’ll end up there at least once.”

“And…” 

“Baby,” he cut you off, opening the passenger door of the truck for you. “It’s going to be fine. There’s a stash of your favorite snacks in the truck and if you just get in the truck, we can go.”

You looked back at the house, biting your lower lip and twisting your fingers around on themselves. 

“OK,” you said, climbing in the front seat. Joel smiled, leaning in to kiss you before jogging around to the driver’s side door. 

The drive felt longer than it was, you seemingly hyper aware of every mile you were further away from your baby. But there was something invigorating about it, too. You had your husband all to yourself for the first time in almost a year. You’d had a few date nights, of course, and the two of you made a conscious effort to spend quality time together, even if it was just watching late night TV in Joel’s arms while Evie slept in her bassinet a few feet away. 

But this? Two nights with no obligation to anyone but each other? It seemed like the purest form of indulgence. 

“How we doin’ over there?” Joel asked about halfway into the drive. 

“Good,” you smiled. “The snacks have helped.” 

“I know my wife,” he smiled back. “Lookin’ forward to getting to know her a bit better the next few days…” 

Your cheeks got hot as Joel’s hand found your knee, gently trailing his fingers over your inner thigh. 

“Is there anything you want to do when we’re in Galveston?” You asked, suddenly feeling oddly self conscious. It had been so long since you’d last had this much time just you and Joel, what if things were different now? 

“Mostly?” He asked, brow cockily raised. “Spend time with you where no one else can get to ya. If there’s something you want to do we can but if it’s up to me, we’re stayin’ in that room.” 

“Joel!” You gaped at him, trying not to laugh. 

“What?” He glanced over at you, smiling a little. “I’m selfish. Don’t wanna share the best thing that’s ever happened to me with anyone else on our anniversary.” 

Joel pulled up to the hotel and parked under the overhang by the door, squeezing your knee as he turned off the truck. 

“You stay put just a second.” 

“OK,” you laughed, watching as he got out of the truck and jogged around the front of it to open the door for you, offering you his hand to help you down. You laughed again. “My my, so attentive.” 

“Least I can do,” he winked, giving your fingers a squeeze as you got out of the truck. 

He wouldn’t let you carry any bags besides your purse, either. When you tried to go with him to the front desk, he put a hand on your lower back and nodded to the lounge across the lobby. 

“Why don’t you go there,” he said. “Get yourself one of those flowery cocktails you like so much.” 

He steered you in that direction before you really had a chance to argue, so you went and took a seat at the bar and ordered a drink you’d never heard of but there was honey and lavender syrup in it so you figured it’d be good. You sat there sipping your cocktail, listening to the pianist in the corner and watching your husband in line at the check in counter, just admiring the shape of him. He was so tall and broad, his shoulders pulling a bit at his flannel shirt, and he was probably three weeks past when he usually liked having his hair trimmed but you’d been so busy with Evie’s first Christmas and everything that came after you hadn’t had a chance to cut it. 

But you liked him a little on the shaggy side. You smiled a little at the thought of running your fingers through his curls while kissing him and feeling him deep inside of you. 

The pianist changed to a new song and you fished your phone out of your bag, flipping it open and texting Sarah. 

Made it! How’s it going? 

Mercifully, Sarah responded quickly. 

Good! Tommy hasn’t dropped her yet.

You laughed a little. 

I’ll take it. She eating? How was school today?

Yup! Some baby food chicken and peaches. Tummy time now. And school was fine. All is OK Mom.

“In town for business or pleasure?” 

You looked up from your phone and flipped it shut to find a man in khakis and a button down leaning against the bar next to you. 

“Oh,” you almost jumped at his proximity as he looked you up and down. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” he smiled. His hair was blond and his eyes were blue and he looked a little bit like a Ken doll. Definitely not your type. “Can’t remember the last time I saw someone as pretty as you drinking alone at a hotel bar.” 

“Oh,” you said again. “Um…” 

“So I think you must be in town on business,” the man continued as though you hadn’t said anything. You tried to peer around him to see where Joel was in line but he followed you, cutting off your view. “No way you’d be here by yourself otherwise.” 

“Well, I’m here on vacation,” you said, fidgeting in your plush high top chair. “And my…” 

“Must be here with friends then,” he smiled. “Girls’ weekend?” 

“Well, no,” you laughed a little. “Actually…” 

“I know you can’t be here with a boyfriend,” he said. “If you were my girl, I’d never let you out of my sight…” 

“She’s here with her husband, actually,” Joel said from behind the man, who stood up straighter and turned, slowly, to find your husband at his back. Joel smiled. “Hi. Appreciate you keepin’ my wife company while I got us all checked in but, if you’ll excuse me, you’re in my way.” 

“Sorry, man,” he shoved himself up off the bar. “Didn’t know she was spoken for.” 

He trudged off to the other side of the lounge and you watched him go, making sure you didn’t audibly laugh until he was out of ear shot. 

“Oh my God,” you half laughed, half whispered to Joel. 

“I know,” he kissed your temple and laughed into your hair. “Leave you unattended for half a minute and got guys tryin’ to steal you out from under me.” 

“No accounting for taste in hotel bars, apparently,” you teased, going to polish off your cocktail but Joel put one of his large hands on your arm. 

“Take your time,” he said, taking the seat next to you. “Wouldn’t mind a beer after that drive. They’re gonna put the bags in the room, anyhow.” 

“Oh,” you gasped in faux shock. “So fancy!” 

“Only the fanciest for Mrs. Miller,” he kissed your cheek as you giggled. 

The two of you had some drinks and you were pleasantly tipsy for the first time in almost two years, only a glass of wine here and there since Evie was born and you were nursing. She’d only weaned about a month ago but you’d been too busy to indulge. Joel put an arm around your waist and guided you to the elevator and you draped yourself over him, giddily kissing him as you held yourself against him. 

“So,” he said between kisses. “Been thinkin’.” 

“Have you now?” You smiled against his lips. 

“There is something we could do to keep random men from tryin’ to pick you up the second you’re out of my sight,” he smiled back as the elevator dinged. 

“Really?” 

He turned you around and pointed you at the doors and kissed the side of your head before nudging you forward. 

“Room 1023,” he said. “And yeah, think there’s somethin’ that’s pretty easy to arrange.” 

“And what’s that?” You asked as he steered you down the hall toward the end of the building that faced the gulf. He pulled a room key card out of his pocket and swiped it at the door, opening it for you. 

“Well,” he said, nudging you into the room. “Bet they’d leave you alone If you had ring.” 

“I have my wedding band,” you frowned down at your hand and the simple white gold ring that matched Joel’s. “I like my wedding band.” 

“I know,” he said, closing the door behind him. “But thought you could use something with a little shine.” 

You made it all the way into the room and gasped, a bottle of champagne on ice, chocolate covered strawberries and a bouquet of roses waiting for you near the door leading to the balcony. 

“Joel!” You gasped, your hands flying to cover your mouth. “What….” 

You looked back over your shoulder to see him down on one knee, a little box open in his hand. 

“Joel!” You yelped it this time. 

“Never did ask you properly,” he smiled a little. “Figured I was overdue. Especially since you’ve given me the entire world, only fair that I get on my knees to ask you to do me the honor of continuing to be my wife for as long as we both shall live.” 

“Of course I will!” You dropped to your knees next to him and kissed him, pressing yourself against him. 

He more beamed than smiled against your lips and pulled the ring - a diamond-encrusted band  with no center stone, the gems making an almost floral pattern all around your finger as he slid it into place. 

“If you don’t like it, we can pick somethin’ else,” he said as you gaped at the ring. “Thought this was more your style and would be out of the way with the girls and then medical school…”

“It’s perfect,” you whispered, the stones reminding you of the flowering vines you painted on picture frames and table legs. You sat down fully in the floor and tore your eyes away from the ring to look at Joel. “But… I mean, can we afford this? I love it, I really really do, but…” 

“I had some money set aside for it,” he sat down next to you. “Wasn’t joking when I said I should’ve asked you years ago. I’d been saving up for a ring for a bit but then…” 

You looked back at your hand and just nodded, not wanting to think about the few weeks the two of you had broken up because Joel thought he was holding you back. 

Then your eyes went wide, looking back at Joel. 

“But I didn’t get you anything! We said the trip was our gift to ourselves and…” 

He laughed. 

“Didn’t want you stressin’ about it, Baby,” he said. “Now, why don’t we go get some dinner without worrying about the kids waiting for us at home?” 

You got changed into a dress that had been a little big before Evie and now was a little snug and hoped that it didn’t look too noticeable once you put a cardigan over it. But Joel didn’t seem to mind, looking at you with warm, soft eyes as he sat across from you at the restaurant. He put his hand on the table, fingers reaching for you, and you put yours in his. He smiled bigger when you did and gave your hand a squeeze. 

By the time you headed back to the room, you were having a hard time not ripping his clothes off in the elevator, his arms around you, holding you tight against his front as you kissed him deeply, his cock hardening against your stomach. 

When you got to the room, you dropped your purse on the dresser and tugged off the cardigan before going to turn out the lights but Joel caught your wrist, running his thumb over your pulse point. You frowned. 

“Joel…” 

“Was thinkin’,” he said, tugging you close to him. “If you wanted to give me something…” 

“I do,” you said, a little breathless as he trailed kisses over your forehead. 

“You don’t have to,” he said, his lips still against your skin. “I don’t want to make you feel obligated or uncomfortable but…” 

He trailed off, working his way down your jaw to your throat, your shoulder, until he lifted your wrist to his lips and kissed you there, too. 

“I’d like it if we left the lights on.” 

You frowned a little, looking up at him. 

“Really?” You asked. “That… I don’t know…” 

“Miss seeing you,” he said quietly, kissing your wrist again. 

“It’s different now,” you said, chewing on your lower lip. “I don’t look how I used to look…” 

Before becoming a mom, you’d never really been shy about your body with Joel. He made it very clear that he thought you were the most beautiful, most sexy woman on the planet. You might have questioned his judgement but you never doubted that he felt that way. But things were different after having a baby. There was just more of you now. You were hyper-aware of it, the fact that - even almost a year after giving birth - you weren’t anywhere near wearing your pre-pregnancy jeans and that, the more of you there was wasn’t exactly sculpted and smooth. You weren’t stupid, you saw the kind of woman who was on magazine covers and in movies, the kind of woman men liked. You’d never been further from that kind of woman than you had been in the last year. 

The last time you remembered being naked in front of Joel where he could actually see you was just after Evie was born, when he helped you in the shower while you recovered. It wasn’t like you’d been trying to turn him on then and that had felt strange enough, your husband’s hands on a body you didn’t fully recognize as your own. 

Ever since, you always put on a robe as soon as you were out of the shower. You’d stopped styling your hair and doing your makeup naked, even at the height of summer. And, while you and Joel had found a good groove with your sex life even with a baby at home, you always turned off the lights before you started undressing. 

“I know,” he shrugged. “I don’t, either. Didn’t have quite this much of a belly when I first conned you into bed with me…” 

You scoffed but smiled a little. 

“I like your belly.” 

“And I like your whole body,” he said, his hand going from your wrist to trace over your arm to the curve of your breast, down to your waist. “Love it, actually. Every damn inch of it.” 

You crinkled your nose at that. 

“But I have stretch marks,” you said. “And…” 

“Baby,” he smiled gently. “You’re my wife. Most beautiful damn woman on Earth. I love lookin’ at you. Loved it when we first got together, love it now. Hell, if I had my way, all I’d do would be look at you and our girls.” 

“Really?” You asked, brows raised. “Even right now?” 

“Especially right now,” he nuzzled against you before kissing you gently. “I know you don’t look like you did when you were 21 but I fuckin’ love that. Your body got you through college and helped raise Sarah and grew our baby girl. I want nothing more than to be able to really look at you, especially while I’m inside you.” 

“And that’s what you want for our anniversary?” You asked. “Just… me with the lights on?” 

“More than anything.” 

You took a deep, shaky breath. 

“Well, let’s pop that champagne because I think I need some liquid courage,” you said. “But OK.” 

Joel kissed you, gentle and deep, before opening the wine and pouring you each a glass. 

“To the most amazing wife anyone could ask for,” he said, tipping his flute to you. You touched the edge of yours to his with a quiet clink. 

“And to the most perfect husband.” 

You drank two glasses of champagne and ate a strawberry before you put your glass down on the table and took a deep breath, standing in front of your husband and feeling almost like you did the first time you got undressed in front of him. 

“Promise if I’m not what you want, it’s lights out?” You asked, stomach tight and heart pounding. 

“Oh, Baby,” he gently brushed your hair back before cupping your cheek in his large hand. “There’s no world where you’re not what I want. You’re exactly what I want. Promise.”

You swallowed hard and nodded, holding  his gaze as you reached for the zipper at the side of your dress, tugging it down slowly. 

Joel’s hand traced down your throat to the strap of your dress, slipping it down your arm until it hung near your elbow. He did the same with the other side before delicately tilting your chin to kiss you. His lips were soft and gentle, not desperate for you so much as savoring you. You moaned into his mouth and his lips grew firmer against you as he nudged you back toward the bed. You shrugged out of the straps entirely, your dress only held up by the fact that you were pressed tightly against Joel. He pulled his lips from yours just enough that you could look in his eyes. 

“I’ve got you, Baby,” he said softly. “Promise.” 

*** 

Where the hell you’d gotten it in your head that he wouldn’t want to see you, Joel had no idea. 

He couldn’t imagine something more ludicrous. All he wanted to do was look at you. If he could buy a ticket to sit and just look at you all day, he would. 

But you hadn’t let him in months and fuck, he missed seeing your body. 

It took Joel weeks to even figure out what was happening. Immediately after Evie was born, everything was exhausting and hectic. You needed rest, Evie needed constant care, Sarah needed to keep on top of her school work and extra curriculars, Joel could only take so much time off work. Sex hadn’t been on his mind at all, he only wanted to take care of his daughters and the woman who has given him everything he could ever need. He didn’t notice the small changes that happened alongside the huge ones. 

But as the two of you started to come back into yourselves as individuals and a couple - instead of just Mom and Dad - Joel started to notice a difference. 

You never got changed in the bedroom anymore. At least, not when Joel was there. You always went into the closet or the bathroom. The closest you’d come was tugging on your pants under your robe and putting on your shirt with your back to him. You always put at least one of his shirts on after sex, never sleeping naked in his arms anymore. 

And then he started noticing that you always turned out the lights before sex. 

You did such a good job of making it seem romantic or flirty, he was worried, for a moment, that it was because of him. If you weren’t really attracted to him anymore. But he caught you watching him with a hungry look in your eyes as he looked for a clean pair of boxers when he got out of the shower one day after work. Evie had been napping and Sarah was out with a friend and Joel practically pounced you. 

“You just got all cleaned up!” You laughed as he kissed along your throat. “You’ll get all sweaty…” 

“Sounds great to me,” he growled before nipping at your neck. 

“Here,” you pulled back from him. “Got a better idea.” 

You nudged him down onto his back and you took him into your mouth, licking and sucking him until he came down your throat with a desperate groan. 

“See?” You panted, wiping your chin clean. “Better.” 

While it certainly wasn’t bad, it definitely wasn’t better. Joel didn’t want to just get off. He wanted you. He wanted the rest of the world to fall away, to feel you everywhere, to watch you come apart while he was deep inside of you. You sucking him off was fun but it wasn’t what he craved, what he really needed. 

Once he pieced it together, he wasn’t even sure how to bring it up. What was he supposed to do, look at you and go “Hey, Baby, I’ve noticed you haven’t let me gawk at you like some stupid fucking teenager lately. Think we can make that happen?” 

He hadn’t even intended to bring it up this weekend. He’d kind of hoped that if he could make you feel special, that if he could give you some evidence of how much he adored you, you’d just… forget to turn off the lights one night. 

But then he was a few beers deep and looking at you from across the table, your dress tight across your breasts and eyes all but glowing in the candlelight and he couldn’t help himself. He needed you. He needed you to overwhelm all his senses, he needed to be able to worship at the altar of your sex. He needed to see you. 

But you looked so nervous - as though there was a snowball’s chance in hell that he’d look at you and not want you - it made his heart ache. 

“I’ve got you, Baby. Promise.”

You just nodded and Joel took the sides of your dress and pulled back enough from you that it fell away from your breasts, the soft flesh pressed high in your strapless bra. He tugged the dress over your stomach and hips until it fluttered to the floor around your feet and you looked at him through your eyelashes, your breaths coming quick and shallow. 

You were so much more beautiful than he remembered. 

The swell of your breasts, the soft curve of your stomach, the plushness of your thighs. He wanted to touch and taste and sink into all of you, every inch. 

“Oh, Baby,” he breathed, not able to take his eyes off you. “You are fucking gorgeous.” 

“Really?” Your voice was quiet, doubtful. He managed to pull his gaze from your body to look in your eyes. 

“Really,” he said. “Most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.” 

You still looked uncertain. 

“Here,” he said, nudging you down onto the bed. “Let me show you.” 

He unhooked your bra and delicately removed it before pressing gently on your shoulders so you were lying back. He unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt before he pulled it over his head and cast it aside. He desperately wanted to feel your skin, fabric was just going to be in the way. You watched as he crawled up the bed beside you, his hand skimming over the softness of your stomach to your chest. He cupped your breast, cradling the warm, plush weight in his large palm before he thumbed gently at your nipple, the flesh peaking and pebbling under his touch. You groaned and squirmed a little, your thighs pressing tight together as your eyes closed, face sharply focused and he smiled a little. Fuck, he’d missed this. 

“Love how full you are here after nursing our baby,” he said, taking that firm little nipple in his mouth and sucking you gently as he held your breast, making your back arch. “So damn sexy, knowing I can make you feel good like this…” 

He moved to the other side, giving you the same treatment there, too, looking up at your face as you whimpered and moaned beneath him. 

After a while, he reluctantly moved down your body, trailing his lips over your breastbone to your stomach, his hands at your waist. 

“Love how soft you are here,” he said. “Love that you’ve grown and changed with me and our family.” 

He kissed slowly down your stomach, pausing at the top of your panties to tug them down, you lifting your hips from the bed to help. He dropped them to the floor and traced a finger over your glistening slit, making you gasp. 

“Love how warm and wet you are for me,” he said, thumb circling your clit. “That it seems like you want me almost as much as I want you…” 

“I do,” you were panting below him. “I want you, I want you so bad…” 

“Good,” he said, leaning down and giving your slit a gentle, almost teasing lick. “Because I’m gonna make you come for me. Gonna make you feel so good, Baby. Gonna make you see just how much I want you.” 

He sucked your clit into his mouth and you gasped, your back arching and your fingers knotting in the bedspread and he couldn’t help but smile against you as he looked over your body to how your head was pressing back into the mattress. 

Joel released you and ran is nose over your slit, pressing between your lower lips to nestle against your clit as his tongue dipped ever so slightly into your dripping core. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, trembling, body tense. “Fuck, Joel, I…” 

He slipped his tongue into your tight, wet heat and you gasped, back arching as you ground your hips down against his face. He couldn’t take his eyes off you as he ate at your sweet, tight little pussy. One hand stretched up to your stomach, spreading wide over your impossibly soft skin, the other sinking into the flesh of your thigh to pull the supple warmth of you against his cheek. 

Joel could feel you starting to tighten and tense around his tongue, your wetness dripping down his chin, and he was so fucking hard in his pants that he was rutting down against the bed. The taste of you, the heat, the musky sweet smell, the sight of you as you arched into him. He released your leg and thrust a finger into you alongside his tongue, pressing into the tender, deep parts of you he knew so well and you came with a choking little sob, your channel fluttering over him. He worked you through it, his touch easing as your orgasm did, until he slid himself from you as you lay, limp and gasping below him. He quickly removed his pants and underwear before kissing up your body, leaving a trail of your slick on your skin. When he reached your lips, he kissed you there, too, desperate and deep and you moaned into his mouth as his tongue slipped into yours. 

“See?” He said softly as he gently traced your hairline at your forehead, your eyes wide and pupils blown. “You even taste fuckin’ amazing, Baby. Not a damn thing about you I’d change. Except maybe that you could see yourself how I see you.” 

“Joel,” you whispered in that way you did when you were blissed out and couldn’t remember much outside of his name. He smiled a little and gently kissed your lips. 

“It OK if I keep makin’ you feel good, Baby?” He asked, pressing slow, deep kisses to your cheeks and jaw between the words. “You have no idea how bad I need to be inside you.” 

“Please,” you breathed. “I need you, I need you so bad…” 

He slowly reached between your bodies and traced your sex, making you gasp, and dipped two fingers just inside your entrance, gathering your slick and bringing it to his cock. He spread his precome and your wetness over himself, moaning a little at the feel of both of you together on his skin. 

“Here,” he said, pushing back from you so there was enough space between your bodies that you could look down and see where he was working his length. “Look, Baby.” You lifted your head just enough to obey and he looked down your body, too, as he brushed his thick head against your clit before he started to sink into you. “Look how good you take me with this gorgeous fucking body of yours. It’s like you were made for me, just to drive me wild…” 

“I was,” you whimpered, still looking down where he was entering you. “I was made for you, nothing feels as good as you, nothing…” 

“Love seeing how you take me,” he said as he stopped half inside you, thrusting shallowly in and out of you, the ridges inside your tight channel catching on his head. “Love seeing you like this, all bare and hot and wet for me.” 

He sank all the way into you then and you moaned at the feeling of him stretching you, your pussy holding him so close and tight. 

As he looked down at you, he couldn’t understand how anyone - even yourself - could look at you and see anything but perfection. Your body was paradise, wonderland, heaven incarnate. He longed to hold and kiss and memorize every inch, wanted to spend the rest of his life doing nothing but worship you and everything you’d given him. 

Joel thrust slow and deep and hard a few times that way, where he could see him disappearing into you, your fingers digging into his biceps as you moaned and panted below him. But he wanted to see your face and feel your skin even more than he wanted to drink in your body. He pressed himself deep and lowered himself onto you so he could feel your skin everywhere on his. Your eyes latched onto his, your gaze looking almost as desperate as he felt and he worked his cock impossibly deeper into you, making your back arch up into him. You rocked your hips against him as you pulled him closer, your pussy already getting tight over him. You were so beautiful like this, all needy and so full of pleasure it looked like you might burst with it. 

“Fuck, Baby, think you can give me another one?” He asked, breathless, as he set an aching rhythm inside of you. “Want to feel you come while I’m inside you, want to make you come.” 

You just nodded, a little frantic, your hips working back against his, your channel getting even tighter around him, making him moan. 

“Fuck, don’t think I’m gonna last,” he dropped his lips to your throat, kissing and sucking the soft skin there. “You feel too good, Baby, not gonna make it inside you…”

“Joel,” you whimpered. “Please…” 

“Together,” he said, lacing his fingers with yours and pinning your hand to the mattress over your head. “Want to come together, Baby, love you so much, want to come with you. You just tell me when you’re gonna come and then let go for me, just let go for me.” 

He adjusted his angle ever so slightly, his cock harder than he could remember it being anytime in the recent past, and he ground himself down inside of you, his hips pressed against your clit as he worked you from the inside. His head barely left the place deep within you that made your toes curl and your back arch, just giving enough room when he pulled back for each stroke to feel more intense than the last. Just when he felt like your channel couldn’t get any tighter, your fingers gripped his skin so hard he knew it would leave marks but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“I’m gonna come, Joel,” you sounded so desperate. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna…” 

Your orgasm took hold and your pussy throbbed and pulled around him, pulling his own release from him in hard, thick ropes as he emptied himself into your dripping heat. 

“Fuck, Baby,” he pressed his mouth into your shoulder to muffle his moans as he held his cock so deep inside you it almost hurt with the intensity of it. “Fuck, you’re doing so good, Baby. Let it all go for me, just keep… keep milking my cock, just like that, doing so fucking good…” 

You moaned, clinging to him as you came undone, this orgasm stronger than Joel remembered feeling from you in months. Eventually, you went limp below him and he collapsed, half on top of you, half beside you. You trailed your fingers through his hair and down his back and he could feel the thick, heavy thrum of your pulse from inside of you. 

He wasn’t sure quite how long the two of you lay like that before he adjusted, bringing you with him so his softening cock was still held within you, making it so you were facing each other on your sides. 

“Missed seeing you like this so much,” he said softly, brushing your hair back from your face. 

“I missed it, too,” you whispered back, biting your lip for a moment. He frowned. 

“You OK Baby?” 

“Oh I’m great,” you smiled gently. “I guess I just… I feel a little silly for worrying about that now.” 

He tugged you closer to kiss your forehead, breathing in the lavender scent of you as he did. 

“We’re going to be together forever,” he said. “Forever’s a long time. There’s gonna be a lot that we see change but you better believe that I will always be crazy about you and this beautiful body of yours. Hell, every time you look at me I feel like the luckiest man alive because you’ll even breathe in my direction, never mind be with me. I’m always gonna want you, Baby. Can’t be helped.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Don’t think it’s silly for us to come all this way just to never leave the hotel room, do you?” You asked. “Because I’m not sure I want to go anywhere tomorrow.” 

He smiled back. 

“Sounds like the perfect day to me, Baby. Any day is a perfect day if I get to spend it with you.” 

A/N: Thank you for reading and for still being here for Joel and Doc months after their main story wrapped.

Love you!

[eddiemunsonsbedroom]

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Summary: After months of dancing around your feelings with Joel, it comes to a head. And his reason for avoiding you comes as a surprise.

Warnings: MDNI 18+; suggestive content, no actual smut (yet?), potential for part two, which would be afab reader, since that’s all I can really do justice/know first hand, but no descriptive qualities as far as looks. Jackson era, swearing, age gap (32 and 56). Let me know if I missed any.

A/N: Be gentle on me- I haven’t written much and not in SO long. And none for Joel.

Also rapidly realizing that despite taking so many honors English classes in HS and college, I really know fuck all about correct paragraph format and present/past tense, omfg.

Lemme know if you want the smut and I’ll make a part two lmao.

Joel is avoiding you.

You know it. He knows it.

And you know why.

You’ve been dancing around each other for days now. Ever since all of the lingering glances and brushing of arms came to a head and you grabbed his thigh in the shadows of the Tipsy Bison. Encouraged by his low lids and your even lower whiskey glasses.

He stopped breathing, and when he realized himself, he jumped like he’d been burned. Muttering some excuse before darting from the bar.

You weren’t sure whether to laugh or to be embarrassed. But why be embarrassed when you knew how he actually felt? You could see it every time he looked at you with those dark eyes. Did he think he was being sly?

Months of the spindly fingers of your dry humor and wit, selflessness and competency that he so admired, worming its way through the splintering cracks of his walls until, without him even noticing, they shattered completely.

But you were too fucking young. He could’ve been your dad, for fuck’s sake.

You couldn’t have been more than your early thirties, at most. He was afraid to ask. At 56, he had no business looking at you in any form other than just his patrol partner. At most- a friend.

But fuck, it had been so long. Maybe that’s all it was, right? But even with Tess, he’d never felt like this. That was friendship- the sex just a means to an end- a way to escape. With you… he knew it went beyond just physical attraction. If he said it didn’t, he’d just be lying to himself. It was all of you.

It wasn’t his fault that he liked when you shot a clicker in the head without even an afterthought. Or that you could put someone in their place while being respectful at the same time. That you could teach him new things without making him feel like a stupid old man.

It wasn’t his fault that you could catch him off guard and make him laugh like he hasn’t in years. Or that your eyes sparkling in the Tipsy Bison twinkle lights made him stop breathing. And it definitely wasn’t his fault that he had to practically run from you so your wandering hand didn’t feel his thickening hard-on that came out of nowhere, like he was a fucking teenager.

It wasn’t your fault that he felt this way about you. But he had to be the one to stop it. Pretend like it never happened.

Which obviously you wouldn’t stand for. He should’ve known better.

As soon as you saw your name next to someone else’s on the patrol schedule for the following day, you decided that enough was enough. You gave him a few days to sort his shit out. It was time to give him a piece of your fucking mind.

———

Walking to Joel’s house was easy. Unfortunately for him, you were neighbors. Fortunately for him, you left your knives at home. You were fantasizing about stabbing him at this point.

Passing by Ellie’s lit up apartment you were relieved that she wouldn’t have to bear witness to your rapidly growing annoyance. It was beginning to fester into self doubt. Because fuck, what if you imagined how he felt and you basically assaulted him in public? Except you know that’s not the case. Right?

As soon as Joel opens the door you’re pushing past him into the kitchen.

It looks like he hasn’t done a dish in days. Flannels taken off after a long day strewn over the backs of dining chairs. Crumbs on the counter.

“Jesus, Joel, crack a window. What’s going on in here?”

Sighing your name, he rounds the corner after you. “Is there a reason you barged into my house?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’ve been avoiding me,” you huff, leaning against his counter.

“Dunno what you’re talkin’ about,” he averts his eyes, deciding that now is the time to tidy his kitchen.

“Don’t bullshit me, Joel.”

“‘m not,” he sighs, filling the sink with warm water.

“Yeah? Then why is now the time to do the dishes that have been sitting there for three days?”

Fuck. He knows you’re not going to let this go, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try to avoid the topic for as long as possible.

“Joel, did I make you uncomfortable?”

His head snaps up, “what?”

That, unfortunately, was the furthest thing from the truth. He wishes it was so he could gently let you down and have you be on your way. Go back to the way things were before, before he knew what he was missing. Before he got addicted to you and you consumed his every waking thought.

“When I… touched you. In the bar,” you falter, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Second guessing everything. Because what if that’s actually what this was?

He decides to get it over with before this becomes any more unbearable.

“Christ. No, I wasn’t uncomfortable. That was the problem,” he grits out.

“I fucking knew it! I fucking. Knew it!”

“Listen-“

“No, you listen. I don’t know what your deal is. I get that we’ve both been through some fucked up shit in the last twenty years, and maybe that’s a huge reason for why you’re so closed off. Denying yourself something that you obviously want-“

He starts to cut you off, saying your name in a stern whisper, but you don’t let him.

“Let me finish.” Surprisingly, he lets you continue, a war waging in his eyes.

“I’m not asking you to marry me, Joel. I’m asking you to just be fucking honest with me. It doesn’t have to be anything serious. It doesn’t have to be anything at all. But I know you feel something for me.”

He’s gripping the counter so hard that his knuckles are turning white. His jaw ticks as he looks down into the sink, watching the little soap bubbles burst until he collects his thoughts enough to speak. You don’t realize that you’re holding your breath until he starts talking.

“I don’t… I don’t know what to do with this. I’m too-“

“Stubborn?” You suggest, despite yourself.

“Old,” he forces out.

Your eyebrows shoot into your hairline, because that is not at all what you were expecting him to say.

“What?”

He lets out a humorless laugh. “I’m 56. I’m way too old for you, sweetheart.”

You clench at the nickname despite wanting to throttle him. “I’m 32. Not 13.”

He groans. “Not helping.”

You lean away from the counter. “I thought you were avoiding this because you were like…” you flail your hands, trying to find the words, “emotionally fucked up, or something.”

He snorts, despite how flustered he feels at admitting his insecurities. “I probably am. But that’s not the point.”

“I’m a grown ass woman. We met as two grown ass adults, Joel. What are you afraid of?”

He clenches his jaw. He can’t meet your eyes.

You press on. “Are you worried about what society thinks? There’s an apocalypse, if you haven’t noticed. I don’t give a shit what Mrs. Johnson down the street thinks. She’s an asshole anyway-“

“Darlin’-“

“No. What’s the point in surviving if you stopped really living twenty years ago? You’re not dead. You deserve to do what makes you feel alive.”

He drags his eyes up to yours, leaning up from the sink. You think he might touch you, but he only faces you. Hesitant.

“Doesn’t bother you that I’m old?” He rasps, eyes low, inching closer. “Hm?”

“I think it’s kind of hot,” you say, smirking.

You shyly smile at each other. Letting it settle.

“We only live once, Joel,” you whisper. “I don’t want to be on my death bed thinking, ‘damn, I really wished I’d fucked that old man’.”

He barks a single surprised laugh at that, throwing his head back.

And you think he’s never looked so beautiful.

[roxygen22]

First Day of School

"My Little Cocoa Bean" Series

A/N: Reader inserts are minimal in this one. Reader stayed home with Baby Charlotte (aka Charlie) so Willy and Ben/Bean could have some 1:1 time before his first day of school.

☆☆☆☆☆

"Are you excited about your first day of school, Bean?" Willy asked as he walked through the park with his son. He took the day off to spend some quality time with the boy before he started kindergarten the next day.

Ben was slow to respond and fell behind Willy's pace. He stopped and looked back at the small boy. "Bean?"

Ben looked up at Willy, worry clearly etched in his features. He knelt down and rubbed Ben's arm in reassurance. Willy had anticipated some reticence since Ben had never spent a full day away from you or him.

"Papa," he said in a small voice. "Were you nervous on your first day of school?" The boy's lip trembled.

Willy carded a hand through Ben's curly hair, then rested it on his cheek. "Well, Bean, I didn't get to go to school. But, I have had other firsts. And yes, I was nervous every time."

"Like when?" Ben implored as if he could not imagine his papa being scared of anything.

Willy stood and paused to think. "Like my first day as a sailor. I lived on a boat as a child, sure, but that was on a calm river, not the open ocean. I remember standing on the dock staring up at the huge ship, knowing my life was about to change. I hadn't even climbed on board and I was already seasick just thinking about it." They started slowly ambling down the path again. "But, I did it anyway. After some time, I became a tip-top sailor, like I had been doing it all of my life, and got to see places that most people only dream of."

By that point, the pair had wandered to the base of their favorite hill in the park. Willy could see that Ben was still lost in thought. He needed to lighten the mood somehow.

"Hey, Bean?" he asked to get the boy's attention. Ben looked up solemnly. "Race ya!" Willy shouted gleefully and took off running up the hill. Temporarily stunned, Ben stared at him with wide eyes before chasing after him in a fit of giggles.

Winded, they lay in the grass at the summit to catch their breath and watch the clouds lazily drift by. The two took turns pointing out shapes of animals. After a bit, Willy continued his earlier lecture.

"It's perfectly normal to feel those nervous butterflies in your tummy on the eve of change."

"But I don't want anything to change," Ben lamented. "I won't get to play with Mamma and Charlie. I won't get to help you make new chocolate or candies."

"I know it will be different, but you can still come to the factory or shop after school or on the weekends. Your mother and Charlie will still be eager to play with you when you get home. I bet you'll even make new friends to play with at school. You'll find a new normal. Besides, life would be boring if nothing ever changed."

They turned their heads to look at each other. Willy booped him on the nose with his index finger and smiled. "You probably wouldn't be here if I hadn't gotten on that boat."

"Huh?"

"Well, seafaring allowed me to gather lots of exotic ingredients to make magical concoctions that set my chocolate apart from the rest. Without my shop, I wouldn't have met your mother, and we wouldn't have you, my little cocoa bean. And I'll let you in on a little secret," Willy lowered his voice to a whisper at the end. "I was nervous when I found out about you."

"You were?" Ben pushed himself up on his elbows to look down at Willy's face.

"Mmhmm. You made me a papa, Bean. I had never been a father, nor did I have one growing up. I'm learning how to be one every day. It's been my grandest adventure yet."

Ben smiled, then fell onto his back once more to watch the clouds float by.

"Papa?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm glad you did it anyway. Got on the boat, I mean, even though you were scared."

"Me, too, Bean. Me, too." Willy sighed contentedly.

A few beats passed.

"Papa?"

"Can we go get ice cream?"

Willy chuckled. "Ice cream sounds like the best idea ever."

☆☆☆☆☆

-next day-

You, Charlotte, and Willy walked Ben to school. Ben was bouncy and talkative, asking questions about your memories of your own first day of classes. The boy grew quieter, though, as the building came into view. He shrank behind Willy's leg as more parents and children gathered at the fence, waiting for the school to open.

Willy offered him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, then dropped to one knee to make eye contact. "Don't be shy. It's alright if you feel a little trepidation."

"But do it anyway," Ben parroted from the conversation the day before.

Willy smiled and wrapped the boy in a hug, "That's right, Bean. Do it anyway."

Ben then gave you and Charlotte hugs and kisses, gathered his bag, and started toward the door. He stopped at the bottom step to turn back and wave at you all. Willy blew a kiss and waved as you grabbed Charlotte's chubby little hand to help her wave back. Tears came to your eyes when you saw Ben turn back to the door, pull his shoulders back and head up with confidence, and walk inside.

Still so small, yet so big, so fast, you thought to yourself. You looked to Willy as he wiped fat tears from his cheeks with his silk scarf. He barely maintained his composure until Ben was out of sight.

"I'm going to miss having him around during the day," Willy said with a sniffle.

"As will I, love. As will I," you replied softly.

Charlotte broke the melancholy with a coo. Willy chuckled and reached out to pluck her from her perch on your hip. "You, missy, aren't allowed to grow up that fast, understood?"

::raspberry::

"I'm glad we're in agreement."

☆☆☆☆☆

Masterlist

[januaryembrs]

THE MAKING OF A MAN | Jon Snow x reader

Request: @thingy-mar said — hii!! can i request a jon snow x reader, centered around the reader being a woman and hiding at the nights watch for some reason and shenanigans ensues?

Length: Posing as a man on the night’s watch doesn’t quite go as smoothly as planned when you meet Jon Snow and sweet Sam Tarly.

Trigger Warnings: brief and very subtle hint of the possibility of sexual assault but none happens, I dropped the c bomb twice for the first time in a fic!!, foul language, violence, nudity, fem!body reader.

Author’s note : the way I had make a man out of you from Mulan viciously on REPEAT while I was writing this that was the energy I was going for. I hope you like this! Also! I finally got 1k followers, kisses for every single one of you I love hearing from everyone of you, and I appreciate you all always 🥺❤️

You cursed every god there was for making the North so fucking cold. Mother used to tell you stories of southerners like yourself turning to stone the moment they got too close to the wall, when the air dropped to freezing and the blood in your veins pumped out frost. Usually, you had a thick head of hair to at least keep your neck warm, but that was gone too. Chopped below your ears to give the impression of masculinity. 

It was never supposed to be like this. Your family had been starving for the past year, your farm barely getting on without the help of your father since his condition weakened with the rotting fever he caught last Winter. Your brother did the best he could, and you gave up reading to give him the extra set of hands. But you were just a girl, not nearly as strong and efficient as your guilt ridden father who could barely stand let alone plough a field as he could once. 

You knew how to hunt, proficiently. But with the cold setting in even further down the continent, animals had become scarce, and you were all withering by the day. 

So your meat head of a brother had turned to more drastic measures. He had stolen. Stolen from the wrong wandering lord that so happened to have flashed some silvers. And within a day, the letter had been posted to your door with the midnight black seal, summoning your idiot brother to the Watch as punishment. 

Without him, your crops would perish. Your poor mother would starve. The animals would become fragile and die too. Your father would be seen as a disgrace. You simply couldn’t allow it. So you left in the dead of night, cut your hair and muddied your face, hid every aspect of your body that could give the impression of a womanly figure, and headed to the North stowed upon the Night’s Watch carriage.

You dragged your hood further down your face as you watched over the edge of the wall. Duty had been difficult to settle into since you were careful to not talk too much or get too close to anyone in case they were able to decipher the feminine qualities of your face. But it had been three weeks now, and you and two other ‘men’ were stationed on the top of the wall. The nights only made the air that bit more cold to your displeasure, your torch you stood by did little to nothing to keep you warm.

“Not used to the cold?” It broke you out of your self-pitying daze at the sound of a deep voice to your left. Two boys around your age had been chatting amongst one another, not that you’d paid them much attention, but it seemed in their silence they had taken an interest in you. 

You froze up, lowering your voice as you had been the few times you’d spoken. “I’m from the south. Everything was much warmer there,” You replied simply.

“Where are you from?” The voice pressed, though you hadn’t glanced their way just yet, hoping they’d just leave you be.

“Ashford,” You replied shortly, biting your lip nervously. The more you spoke, the more chance there was of them realising you were not quite who you said you were. 

It was silent for a moment, and you heard the two men shuffling around, as if debating whether to press you further.

“I’m Sam by the way,” You finally turned your head to meet the faces of the two men, not wanting to draw attention to yourself by being completely rude. 

Sam had some of the kindest eyes you think you’d ever seen. They stared at you with a hint of skittishness that you assumed was from being sent to the Watch, but as if to encourage you to talk more. His face was soft with youth, and he flashed you a small friendly smile. “This is Jon,” He pointed to his companion. You were much more intimidated by the shadowy eyes you met. His serious brow and expression looked down on you, a complete contradiction to Sam’s gentle face. Sam caught you gawking at Jon with something close to fear at his dark expression and knocked him on the arm lightly as if to prompt him to say something to you. 

Jon caught himself in his moody presence, giving you the smallest of nods and almost a smile. “Alright?”

“Jack,” You replied, figuring your brother wouldn’t mind you stealing his name since you already posed as him. 

Sam opened his mouth to say something else, when three more men stalked down the length of the wall, your commander leading ahead.

“Shift’s over boys. Go get some supper,” Your superior orders, the men taking over your place at the wall. You walk away before Sam can make any more small talk with you, wishing for nothing but your bed and some quiet.

—

It hadn’t been even two days later when you next saw Jon Snow and sweet Sam Tarly. You were out in the yard sparring under the commander’s watch, and it was safe to say you were not inspiring anyone. Being a girl, though you had been raised doing manual labour, you were not nearly as genetically strong as the grown men around you. Even the boys just turned fourteen were giving you a challenge. 

“Pull yourself together, man! That boy hasn’t even dropped his balls yet, and he’s fucking you over!” The commander screamed at you as a measly teenager had again beaten you to the floor. Your face was feverish with embarrassment. You could feel yourself getting stronger by the day, but it was still null in comparison to the surrounding men. You felt pathetic. “The worms they send us these days,” He tutted, ushering forward another boy for you to fight. 

You huffed out of anger, the lad not giving you any respite before he lunged at you with his steel sword near missing your plated stomach. After beating his blow away, you went in for your own attack. You caught his face by chance, a small slice across his cheek being all to show for two hours of being knocked on your arse in front of them all. The victory was short-lived however when the younger boy shoved forward and with brute strength you landed on your back yet again. 

Your sword went skidding across the cobbles, under the awaiting foot of a large black boot and you felt two sets of eyes on your figure. Laughter resounded throughout your group of weaker men, and you fought back the urge to tear up at the sound. You were purely pathetic. 

“Show’s over, lads,” The commander yelled, silencing the laughs to mere giggles as the boy strode away proudly to his newfound friends. You scurried to your feet in fear of looking even smaller than you felt. The commander’s eyes narrowed on your jumpy frame and he walked over to where you stood, your head held low. “Go wash the shit out your trousers and come back to my yard a bigger man tomorrow,” 

You nodded meekly as he dismissed you for the day. Turning on your heel and heading back to your room to bathe, the tears brimmed your lash line as you willed yourself not to cry. 

Jon and Sam watched you go, the former man reaching down to pick up your weapon from his feet. It was clear you would not last much longer on the watch with your shockingly weak frame, even Sam who was harmless and slow had bested you though he had winced in regret every second. “Poor lad doesn’t have it in him, I know what that’s like,” Sam murmured, your smaller form retreating into the showers. “I’ll take it back to him. Probably doesn’t need the boy top of the class to rub it in,”

“I’m not top of the class,” Jon protested, though he handed the sword over to his friend’s awaiting hand, “I don’t understand how a boy so weak could have made it to the Night’s Watch,”

“Seems like a quiet type to me. It’s them ones you’ve got to watch out for, my mother always told me.” The Tarly boy replied, heading after you with your sword in hand.

— 

Even the bastard showers were cold at the night's watch. At least at home you could warm water in front of an open flame for a bath, you thought. Here there was not nearly enough water for each man to have a bath, instead they collected snow from the roof of the keep and drained it into a storage tank on the roof to fall naturally as a shower when the hatch was opened. It was painful, as if needles were falling onto your skin and burrowing their way in with every drop, but it was the only place people would leave you alone. 

And alone and crying in the freezing showers you were.

That was until you heard the latch unlock on the door, and heavy footsteps enter the small damp room. Oh god, please no.

“Y/n? You left your sword,” You breathed a sigh of heavy relief when you realised it was Sweet faced Sam, not someone more nefarious with heinous intent for the weak boy crying in the shower, that would get a hell of a shock when they realised he in fact had no cock and a pair of tits. Though that relief soon melted into horror when you realised he was coming closer to where you stood. Is this what men did? Invade each other’s privacy so easily? You would have never had another woman come so close had she known you were nude, but here was Sweet Sam Tarly coming closer as if he was simply asking how your mother was or if the crops had been good this year. 

Sweet Sam Tarly that was now behind you, talking to you as if he wasn’t about to find out your best kept secret.

“-and I said to Jon he shouldn’t be the one to bring it to you, I didn’t think it would be nice for the best fighter they have to return your weapon to you. It would rub salt into the wound, wouldn’t it? It would be like-” Sam chattered on happily and you cursed his sweet sweet nature as you looked down at where you stood facing the wall, tits bare and cunt free for the world to see. 

“Sam,” You cut him off sternly, one hand trying to hide your top half, “Just put the sword down there please,” You pointed to where your clothes lay.

“Oh! Yeah, of course.” He did as you asked, and noticed how stiff you stood, as if afraid of him. “Are you okay?” You heard him shuffle closer, “I didn’t frighten you did I-”

“Sam! Stay there!” You ordered, mind racing what to tell the boy who didn’t listen since you could still hear him coming closer to comfort you. You must have turned your head enough for him to see where you had been crying, and it only made the gentle boy even more worried for his new friend’s wellbeing as he stepped closer yet again.

“Oh, don’t cry lad. We all cry sometimes. I cried just last night, thought my toes had dropped off after our night shift and I feared of what I’d find when I took my shoes off.” Another step closer, this time a hand on your shoulder, “But it’s okay, we’re brothers now. And brothers talk to each other about everything,” You could feel him leaning forward as to give you a hug, fully aware that you were still nude. Is this what men do? Men were weird, you concluded.

Either way, your secret was completely fucked if he reached around and saw the two lumps of fat that stood you out from the rest, that you still very much did not want him to feel.

“Sam, no!” You turned around to push him away, and the poor boy looked as though you had slapped him. That is until his gaze dropped almost immediately, as men’s eyes do, and he saw the two enlarged breasts staring back at him in a way no man would normally grow. 

His mouth dropped open into an ‘O’ shape as he trailed down to your wide hips, thick thighs and your very obvious lack of dick that you covered with your hand before he could look for too long. His innocent blue eyes rushed back up to your face and suddenly everything about your face was feminine. He had always thought you had a weirdly pretty face for a man, and even the rounded shape of your arse had startled him when he had entered the bathing room, though he had simply thought it was being surrounded by men for weeks on end fogging his lust. He saw the fright in your eyes, and it all clicked for him your predicament. 

You were a woman, posing on the Night’s Watch as a man. And you were most certainly not supposed to be here. 

“Sam please,” You begged, stepping forward to hold his arm in desperation, “Please do not tell anyone of this,”

“You’re a- You have tits and a - SEVEN HELLS,” He stepped back in shock when he took another look at your cunt as if he didn’t believe his eyes the first time, “YOU HAVE-”

“Sam, please calm down,” He ripped his fur off his shoulder to cover you up despite the fact you had your own clothes.

“I’m ever so sorry, My Lady. I would have never burst in here had I know,” He fussed over you, making sure you were shielded from his view.

“I’m not a lady, I’m just a farmer’s girl,” You ordered as he went to undo his jacket so that he could cover your bare arms. Even when you had thrust a very dangerous secret upon him, he was incredibly kind. Your heart warmed as his rosy red cheeks trailed up to your face, taking in your face as if he hadn’t spent the past three weeks with you. “You can’t tell anyone of this,”

“You need to leave, it’s not safe for you here,” He urged, “Some of these boys will do a lot worse than just come into the showers while you’re here. And even the rational ones haven’t seen a woman in months, you don’t know what they might do,” Sweet Sam Tarly tucked your wet hair over your shoulder so it wouldn’t stick to your face. 

You sighed, knowing he was telling the truth, “If I confess now they’ll behead me for lying and treachery. And then they’ll kill my brother for allowing a woman to serve in his place. I’m only here because my parent’s farm would not survive without him.” 

Sam looked over your pretty face in despair. “Very well. I’ll do my best to keep you safe,” The boy promised, wrapping his furs tighter around you. You looked at his kind expression, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a hug. For the first time in three entire weeks, you felt safe. Secure. Like you didn’t have to watch your back twenty-four seven because you finally had a friend on the Watch who knew your secret.

“Thank you, Sam. You’re a good man,”

“You’re a good man too,” The broad boy joked and the two of you laughed between one another, his enormous arms wrapping around your waist. 

That is until you realised something was pressing in between the two of you that was clearly unintentional on the sweet boy’s part. You gasped and pulled back, and the movement seemed to knock sense into the Tarly boy. 

“Sam!” 

“I’m so sorry, I’ve never seen a woman bare before- I’ve very mixed feelings right now-”

—

For the first time in a month, you felt settled at the wall. You had gained little strength yet, but your fighting skill seemed to almost be improving. You still hated the cold with every ounce of your being, but at least you had a friend. Sweet Sam and his forever grumpy accomplice Jon. 

Unlike Sam, Jon relished in the silence as you did, something you appreciated from time to time. Though it meant on nights like this, when Sam was not on night duty as you two were, there was a prolonged silence between the two of you that you neither liked nor hated. You could tell he scrambled for something to say to you, to be the one to be a friend when Sam was not there to do so, and you appreciated his efforts. 

Finally, after an hour of watching into the inky black darkness over the edge of the wall for any movement, he opened his mouth to speak.

“You have a dainty life back home then?” Jon asked, making your head shoot up at the break in the silence. You must have seemed puzzled as he explained himself. “You don’t seem the heavy lifting type, is all,”

You nodded, noting his dark eyes and how they seemed to latch onto yours in interest, “Oh. No, I suppose not. My older brother did all the farm work since my father got sick,” You said, each breath misting in front of your very eyes in the freezing weather. Fearing it made you sound lazy as his head turned away in indifference, you continued, “I’m much better with a bow, truthfully. I’ve never had to wield a blade when catching rabbits and deers,”

Jon smirked, and you found yourself somewhat proud you had drawn that from him. He was a handsome man. So very handsome in a way that was obvious to a woman surrounded by men every single day. You hoped he did not have a woman at home, though you supposed they would never meet again, nor could you ever do anything about it seeing as it deemed you to behave like a man for the foreseeable future. 

“No, I don’t suppose deers and rabbits would put up a good duel,” He replied, and the two of you fell back into silence. “I could teach you, if you’d like? I taught my younger brothers before I left,”

You looked at him in disarray. The men of the knights watch were not known for their kindness, more so their heathen behaviour and ferocity to the wildlings. Jon Snow was not like them, he was kind and understanding. He did not look at you with scorn at your difficulties. He was offering to help. 

“You would?” Wide eyed, you asked. “You would help me?”

He nodded, shrugging and readying his blade, “I don’t see why not. Come on, arms up.”

And so for two hours Jon taught you. The dark-haired man held the blade as if it was part of his arm, as if he had known nothing but him and that sword, moved swift like the river that cut through your hometown. He was tough on you for your posture, exclaiming he had seen his septa with a stronger back than you to which you told him it was probably the silver spoon he had rammed up his arse that made him stand so stiffly. You had thought briefly you had gone too far when he straightened and gazed at you, before his face broke out into a laugh. Jon Snow had a wonderful smile, you realised.

You continued on for another hour, Jon showing you how your feeble nature could help you become nimble and fast. “As long as you make them bleed, it doesn’t matter where you hit them,” He said, using one of his huge, firm hands to adjust your stance and grip on your sword. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart race to smell the intoxicating scent of his sweat and old soap rolling off him into the cold air you inhaled. It was just because you had never been so close to a man, lest seen one so close in the past month with your efforts to stay hidden from view. Your heart felt like it was racing as you stepped away from the broad-shouldered man that encompassed your frame with his own, not watching where you were treading so long as it got you away from that terrible siren call of a scent he gave off. 

“In no time at all you’ll be the best in the yard,” He teased, as you moved back even further. You noticed the patch of black ice too late however in your haste to ironically come to your senses. Your footing was swept from underneath you by the frozen cobble, and your body thrown backwards with the weight of your armour sent you tumbling over the edge of the wall’s crenel with a loud yelp, “Perhaps not as- JACK!” 

Jon lunged his body forward, arms outstretched to grab your hands in his own. You felt your body slam into the side of the bricks, legs dangling precariously over the frosty edge and you swore everything seemed impossibly colder on this side of the wall. Your heart raced even more than when you had been near Jon, racing as if this was your last moment on earth which it very well could be. How you were not dead you will never know, but every single prayer you could ever say to the gods ran through your head as you breathed out finally. 

“JON!” You yelled, gripping onto his large hands with a tightness you didn’t know you had. If he was to let go even the slightest amount, it would all be over. 

“I’ve got you!” He called back, two hands grabbing your forearm securely. “I won’t drop you, but you need to pull yourself up,” 

Your free hand grabbed onto an empty alcove in the wall’s brickwork, the ice nestling there biting into your fingertips as though it were a feral dog. You winced as you felt your skin stick to the ice instead of melt it, but you used the wall to kick yourself up further although your legs felt near numb with fear. “That’s it, now grab this part,” Jon encouraged, and you did so, moving to hold the top of the wall as a more secure plane.

One of Jon’s arms wrapped around your waist to give him a better grip of your slack body, and it took all his strength to hoist you, your sodden clothes and your armour back over the wall. The two of you stumbled back with a grunt of effort, and you think you finally exhaled for the first time in five minutes by the time he got you to the right side of the barrier, his arm still wrapped around you as yours never withdrew from grabbing onto his shoulders in terror. 

The two of you stayed quiet for a moment, as if you didn’t quite believe what had just happened. “Are you alright?” Jon whispered, letting you go though you were still quite shaken up.

“I think so,” You reply, though neither of you miss the tremor in your tone, “Thankyou, Jon,”

“Always. We’re brothers now. Brother’s look after each other.” He replied, clapping you on your shoulder heartily, not missing the way you looked away from him when he named you his family, “Now come on. That’s enough excitement for one night.”

— 

Everything came to a screaming halt not even a month later. You had grown in muscle, not nearly as much as a normal man, but your sparring had improved immensely and life was becoming less difficult as you acclimatised to the cold. Sam and Jon were good friends, particularly Sam who always watched your back to help you keep your secret safe from the outside world. 

But you had shaken Jon. He had never felt this way about a man before, never seen a man with such beautiful eyes or such a softness in their gaze. Sam held a kindness to him but not in the same delicate manner you did. Save when you were sparring, something you had put every piece of yourself into since the night you nearly fell from the wall. The way you gazed at him as if he was the greatest warrior you had ever seen, though he doubted a farm boy would have ever seen the bloodshed of war. 

He saw how the other men treated you. He and Sam tried to steer them clear of picking on you for your weaker frame, but on the days they couldn’t be with you they hoped you were tough. He knew you weren’t. 

It was a night as such that they had both been stationed on watch duty where they found you. They had been relieved of duty not ten minutes earlier; the elevator creeping its way down to Castle Black at a frustratingly slow pace. All Jon wanted was his bed, as it seemed Sam did too from the way he ran a hand over his eyes as if the weight of the world held heavy on his shoulders. 

“Is it just me or do the nights seem longer up here?” Sam asked, rubbing his hands together hoping to warm the poor digits up by even a few degrees. It was in vain though, even he knew that. There was no such thing as warmth this far north. 

Jon opened his mouth to answer his good friend, but was interrupted by the sound of a high-pitched scream that was quickly cut off and some loud scuffling around the centre of the training yard. 

The two men looked at one another as the elevator met the cold stone cobbles, somehow both of them having a good idea who was responsible for such a cry. Jon kicked the iron door open, the pair of them rushing out of the metal hold at a surprising pace for two men freezing their arses off. They were confronted with three of the taller men the night’s watch offered surrounding a figure on the floor, mouth and limbs bound with cloth. 

“Get his clothes off boys. Let’s see if a night in the cold air will toughen him up. Commander says even the youngest boy brought here is more of a man than this runt.” The larger one, who Sam knew to be named Derick ordered, and his heart skipped when he saw who it was they had on the floor, squealing and writhing like a shot animal.

Of course, as they’d both suspected, it was you the pig bastards had dragged out of bed in the middle of the night for a practical joke. But he watched as they undid your top buttons and was thankful as Jon made it just in time to shove the man off you.

“That’s enough!” The Stark’s half son yelled, loud enough to wake the superiors of the watch so they could deal with the rats. 

The boys huffed, shuffling away from your limp body as Jon drew his sword and stared at them all coldly. “Snow bastard here to save the day, once again. Does your arse ever tire of you wearing it like a hat?” Derick snapped, eyeing Jon up wearily as if deliberating his chances against the man. But it seemed he didn’t fancy his luck, as he shouldn’t have, and stepped away from your bodyguards in annoyance. 

“Just go back to bed and you’ll be lucky we don’t tell the commanders what you were going to do.” Jon murmured darkly, as Sam also reached for his weapon at his side if they wished for a fight. He knew Jon could take them all on his own but anything to steer them away from you. 

The boys looked to one another in a sneer, before huffing and sauntering off back to the dormitory, muttering curses about the three of you. The moment they turned, Jon was at your side, ripping the gag away from your mouth so you could breathe. It wasn’t until then that he noticed you had been crying and his heart plummeted. You hiccuped as the cloth was removed from your face, Sam cutting free the binds on your ankles as Jon worked on your wrists. 

It wasn’t for another minute that you had shaken yourself out of the fright the awful bastards had given you, and you actually thought to thank the two of them. 

“Don’t mention it,” Jon said, pulling your wrists forward to free the knotted cloth there too. His large fingers brushed along your hands warmly, and you felt a shiver run down your spine at just how easily his body had adapted to the cold. Though you supposed it had always been like that being a boy of Winterfell. 

You were still silent however, not knowing quite what to say as your hands fell free with his quick work and you lifted your arm up to rub away the dried tears in vain. The dark-haired man must have seen your crestfallen expression, and did what Jon did best to all the men he saw struggling. He comforted you. 

“Hey, don’t let them get to you. You’re getting stronger by the day.” He murmured, pulling your arm away from your face to see your bottom lip still quivering in shame. “We made no warrior overnight. Do you think the Mountain woke up one day with the strength of a god?”

“I heard he split his mothers ribs in two the day he was born,” Sam chimed in, though he quickly regretted his chatty nature when the two of you looked at him, Jon with an exasperated glare and you with pure fright. He gathered his words the way Sam did best, and added; “Probably just an old wives’ tale though.”

Jon turned back to you, his eyes falling to where they had unbuttoned your shirt and leaned forward to help, “What I mean is there’s always going to be someone bigger than you. My father once told me how he beat the Sword of the Morning and even he-” Jon froze halfway through his sentence as his fingers brushed against your flesh under your shirt. Something was wrong. Something was different to his own body, to any man he had ever seen before. It wasn’t until you realised why he had gone quiet that you shoved his hands away, your soft feminine hands holding him off as if he’d burned you. 

You had been so enraptured in his words, the comfort it brought you, you didn’t realise just how much of you he could feel until you followed his eyes to where he was staring at your chest wide eyed. His gaze flicked to your face and just like Sam, he took in your guilty eyes, your womanly features that he had always known were pretty. Though he’d always placed his thought as of jealous rather than of lust.

But his mind raced as if confirmed by feeling those mounds on your chest, reimagining your face in a whole new light. 

Your eyes met, and the second they did, you knew he knew. 

Jon stood up fast enough to give him head spin, or was that just the revelation that either you were indeed a man with a startlingly pretty face and tits to match or were you very much a woman?

“Jon!” You shimmied your legs out the rest of the rope that Sam had been struggling with, standing to meet his shocked expression, “Jon, wait,” You reached out for him, though he stepped away as if you were suddenly cursed.

“No- You can’t-” He breathed out, forcing himself to finish his sentence though the thought pained him, “You can’t be a woman. Do you have any idea how dangerous this place is for a woman?”

“Of course I do, Jon! I’ve feared for my life every day these past months, feared for my virtue. I don’t wish to be here, I have no choice,” You hissed back as Sam stood beside you, hilting his knife. 

The lack of shock on the Tarly boy’s face clicked in Snow’s mind, “You knew about this?”

“I walked in on her in the shower unfortunately,” He replied, spinning to look at you with a red tinge to his cheeks, “Not that- I mean I didn’t want to invade your privacy- You have a lovely pair-”

“Sam,” You spat, nudging the boy to stop his mouth that would usually endear, as the two of you looked back at Jon’s aghast expression. Rushing forward to hold on to his arm, a tenderness you could express now, “Please don’t tell the Commanders. They’ll kill me if they know,” Jon’s dark eyes searched your face for any reason as to not take on this potentially fatal secret, but all he found was a scared woman begging for his help. All he found was the person he had been keeping his eye on for months since that first day you met. All he found was a friend. 

“Alright,” Jon conceded, noticing now just how soft your hands were as they clung to his arm in need, “So what do they call you?”

“Actually, what do they call you?” Sam piped up, a puzzled look on his face as you spun to meet his eyes with a relaxed smile. “I’ve been calling you Jack for the past month and you’ve not once said anything.”

You chuckled and told them both your real name, your gaze meeting Jon’s once more as he stuck out his hand to shake, his eyes softening when he saw you looking up at him in hope. 

“Welcome to the night’s watch, Y/N,”

[amorechris]

                       Brooklyn Baby

SUMMARY : After a case that hit close to you, not only were the victims paper copy of you, and you had taken on a very heated standoff with the unsub. When you all return to quantico you are greeted with another case, however your boss seems to have a soft spot for you.

PROMPT : "I need a good cry and a shower. So give me like half an hour and then we go kick some ass."

WARNINGS : fluff, mentions of bau gore, cuteness, bau fluff, and more of the cutest fluff, comfort, bad humor

YOU TRUTHFULLY DIDN'T KNOW HOW YOU HADN'T BROKE DOWN, the team didn't either. The case was tuff for you as these victims were a clear lead to who he was really after, you. You had to admit the man was clever, he had picked a state you did college in and did murders there to lure you out there back to your home, Brooklyn. From there things got worse by the minute.

When you were in the stand-down it was after an attack of he purposely crashing into the SUV you had been in on purpose. He had tried to abduct you but even in you bloodied cut up state you had managed to take him down. Though it ended with a concussion, and a bullet graze. It was truly admirable to Hotchner how you showed such strength through the case and the team would've been lying if they said they didn't admire you at all.

Though you should've known that it would come flooding the second you got even a minute alone. So when you had stuffed your go bag back under your desk the team had dispersed to get coffee, bathroom breaks, vending machine snacks, before they went to see what their second case was.

You had sat down and stared at your file covered desk and slowly the lights around you became shiny, your bottom lip quivered unintentionally and slowly your eyes blurred like how they would when you first take your contacts out. You felt the tears falling down your cheeks without even blinking.

You were the person that disguised or hid your emotion through humor, it was a coping mechanism and Spencer had told you that multiple times when you guys would have small outings for coffee and library breaks. However it was just your personality and it was a quality that actually people liked.

You hadn't noticed when Dave came out of his office taking one glance at you and lightly knocked on hotch's window. Soon somebody was standing in front of you and slowly you could hear people like Morgan and JJ asking if you were alright. However you snorted lightly and wiped your eyes.

You looked up at your boss who had discarded his stoic expression and it was replaced with concern. Spencer was already running to the coffee machine, and Morgan was going to get Penelope to come in with her special 'cheer up' stuffed animal. All your teammates contributed in different ways and you all cared foe each other and took care of each other like family.

The thought, the deep of having a family you thought you would never had made you cry a bit harder.

"I need a good cry and a shower. So give me like half an hour and then we go kick some ass."

You had let out a mix of a sob and a laugh before you stood up and and Hotchner put his arm out resting his hand on your lower back. You wiped you eyes thankful you had waterproof mascara and internally cheered that you could cry and not look like a marble painting.

As you reached the door Hotch held it open for you and you spun around with tear stained cheeks and damp eyes holding a thumbs up to your team who had watched and looked worried until you flashed them a smile.

Hotch shook his head sighing and led you out the door and into the elevator and you sniffed wiping your nose as Hotch turned to you once the doors shut.

"Are you okay?"

You nodded and turned to him. "Hotch, I have a question..." you said looking down at your feet.

He turned to face you as you now both stood face to face with backs on either side of the elevator. "If it's time off then, of course."

You smiled softly but shook her head. "No, no. Guess what’s on the menu?" You asked and he shook his head. "Oh god, what is it?" he asked and you snorted.

"Me-n-u."

Hotch unintentionally let out a small laugh but he shut his mouth and stared at you with wide eyes you had the biggest beaming smile.

"I laughed because it was bad."

"mhmm sure, you know you liked it."

"Stop talking."

"But you didn't hear the one about the boats!"

[pinkthrone445]

~I need a favor~ Part 2

Part 1

Pairing:Brienne of tarth x Reader

Warnlings : (+18) None I think.

Gender: mostly fluff.

Summary:Returning from a big battle, your friend Brienne has news that will change both of your lives forever, your relationship and your lifes.

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

It had been a few days since Brienne brought the baby home, several days in which the blonde had not left your side or your house, days in which she spent thanking you for your help whenever the opportunity presented itself. Every day that passed, the more you learned about life and the less you slept, the baby was a big responsibility and had strong lungs to cry and scream whenever something didn't agree with his standards.

It was a little tricky to manage the work and care of the baby, but when you went out to work or buy stuff, Brienne stayed behind to take care of him. The only problem was that when you got home, it was a complete chaos, the baby was probably asleep, but there were toys and clothes everywhere, some splashes of food, milk or water that you would have to clean up in the morning, and Brienne was full of stains that you didn't want to know where those came from.

However, that night when you arrived it was different, the house was clean, tidy, and quiet. The only light that illuminated the place was the brightness of the moon that came in when you opened the door, not a single candle was lit. Worried you took a knife from your bag, you knew how to use it thanks to Brienne teaching you, so you could defend yourself. You walked to where you usually let the baby sleep, but he wasn't there either, there were only his blankets. You kept looking around the house until it occurred to you to look at the cozy chair you had by the window, there was Brienne with the little baby asleep and lying on her chest. The blonde looked absently out the window, she conveyed a peace and tranquility that you had never seen in her before, she looked so happy and calm that you didn't want to interrupt the moment. You carefully lowered your knife letting out a sigh of relief that you didn't know you were holding, your friend smiled and turned to look at you, it was obvious that your presence could not go unnoticed by the trained knight

-"Good evening, how was work?"- She whispered very calmly to avoid waking up the little boy who was sleeping on her

-"It was good... I managed to bring more milk from the kitchen at work, the good quality kind so it doesn't give the baby diarrhea"-You also whispered and stood in front of them-"You want me to take him to his blankets?"

-"No, it won't be necessary anymore, I brought a gift" -she said, pointing with her head to a beautiful and delicate wooden crib-"we can place it wherever you like, preferably near your bed in case he wakes up at night or drowns... You like it?" - she smiled seeing how you inspected the crib, it was a great job of a craftsman carpenter, something that would surely be very expensive

-"Did you pay for this? It's beautiful but it's sure to be very expensive..."-You looked at her in surprise and she laughed softly

-"I had it made by a carpenter who owed me a favor after having saved her family... She even made us a wooden rocking chair for the baby, so we can put him to sleep..."-The blonde commented looking at you with a relaxed smile, you were surprised to see her so peacefully and so committed to the baby.

-"It's really a beautiful job, thank you for bringing it..."-you whispered and she handed you the baby carefully, smiling you laid him on your chest and smelled the scent of his little head instantly relaxing, you hadn't realized how much you missed him and how important he was to you until you held him in your arms again after a long day. Even though you hadn't seen him for just a couple of hours, your arms had felt empty at not having him. Delicately you caressed his little back and saw how he smiled asleep and relaxed and snuggled more into your chest making tender little noises. When you looked up, you saw how Brienne was watching you affectionately, smiling like a fool, you laughed and raised an eyebrow-"What?"- Your voice brought the blonde back to reality, she cleared her throat shaking her head

-"Nothing... I'll go put the crib next to your bed"-she whispered blushing and lifted the crib marking the muscles of her arms, leaving you and the baby alone in the dining room.

After a few minutes, when everything was settled, you put the baby on the crib carefully and covered him, relieved he didn't wake up. Brienne must have been playing with him for a long time if he was so deeply asleep. When you started to change your clothes, the blonde was about to retire to go to sleep in the living room, but you took her hand and stopped her, your friend blushed when she saw that you were in your underwear

-"Don't you want to sleep here in my bed? It's more comfortable than blankets on the living room floor and I know you're tired after taking care of the baby all day..."- You whispered a little embarrassedly and saw the doubt in her eyes thinking an objection, but before she could say anything, you interrupted her again-"I don't want to sleep alone, and if I fall into a deep sleep I'm afraid I won't hear the baby if he wakes up... Please..."-You pleaded in a whisper and she sighed nodding

-"Okay..."-she agreed. After the two of you put on your pajamas and went to bed you tried to sleep but couldn't, sleep had left your tired body. Instead, your head had begun to reproduce everything your life had changed in those few weeks since the baby arrived

-"Bri... Are you awake?"-You whispered and the blonde babbled tired but awake-"You know, I was thinking maybe it's time for us to give him a name... If it's going to be our family we can't keep calling him baby or little one, he needs a proper name"-You spoke in a whisper and turned on the bed coming face to face with the blonde who was looking at you with a sleepy smile

-"I think it's a great idea, have you thought of any name?"-she asked curiously

-"Gisli..."-You barely whispered

-"Why?" - she asked

-"'Cause it means ray of sunshine, and you are the sun, the sun that brought this little sunshine home and into my life..."-You whispered and she stared at you - "if you think it's silly we can choose another one..."

-"I love it, it's a very beautiful reason for choosing it... It's cute... Like the baby and like you" - she whispered and kissed the tip of your nose making you giggle and blush. In what little light there was, you could barely make out any shape, but you could feel the heat her body radiated so close to yours, the only thing you could make out was the reflection of the moonlight on Brienne's hair. The moment you shared was very intimate, the whole last weeks you had spent together had been intimate. The two of you were very close, her breathing was very near to your lips, so much so that if you leaned in just a little you were sure you could kiss her. She and you had kissed before on a night when the two were drunk and made embarrassing decisions, but this was different, you were both very aware of what was going on. Slowly you grabbed her hand, Brianne's lips brushed against yours, as if some sudden movement would break the magical bubble you were in, where no matter what life she led, you could be together, where you could truly be a couple, a family, where anything was possible. You didn't know who closed the distance, you or her, but finally your lips connected with hers letting out a big sigh of happiness, it was as if every cell in your body woke up one by one just to think about her, to feel hee. Your hands grabbed her cheeks and she took your hips, gently tickling you under her touch. Your body began to rise in temperature and all you wanted was to be closer to her, for your body and soul to become one with her, not necessarily sexually, but in every sense of the word, to be hers and for her to be yours, for the two of you to give yourself to each other without fear of the future and without any restrictions. To get closer to her, you wrapped your leg around her hip while still kissing her and she held your thigh possessively, making you gasp from the force with which she was holding you. Her leg slipped between yours, brushing her thigh at your crotch which made you feel hotter and more restless, letting out a soft moan on her lips . You had no idea where that could go, but no fantasy was fulfilled that night as the baby cried while still asleep, dreaming about something, breaking the moment and bringing you two back to reality. Your breathing was ragged and so was hers, neither of you knew what to say or do. After checking that everything was okay with the baby, you went back to bed and the blonde was turning her back to you, compared to the heat that her body radiated minutes before, now a shiver ran through your body because of the distance you felt from her

-"Brienne..."-You whispered but she ignored you—"do you want to talk or..."-You insisted, but she interrupted you

-"It's too late, we have to sleep. Good night" - She replied curtly and you sighed turning and hugging yourself to keep warm, trying to relax a little so you could stop overthinking and sleep even a little.

The next morning when you woke up, it was still very early but Brienne wasn't in bed and the baby wasn't in his crib either which made you sigh sadly, you could still feel the ghost of her kisses on your lips and the rejection when she realized what she was doing. Without much desire, you got up and walked to the dining room where you found the two of them sitting while the blonde fed the little one, you couldn't help but stare at her, she looked and felt very good at your house and next to you, as if she belonged there with you, but you also knew that if you talked to her about that and about what had happened the night before, if it didn't end well, it could make everything very complicated, not only because of the friendship you had but because now you were taking care of a child together. You sighed, running your hands over your face watching as she gently patted the baby's back to get the gas out, the little boy laughed every time a small burp came out of him

-"Good morning Brienne... Can we talk please?" - You spoke determined to put an end to the insertitude that was in your head, Brienne carefully left the baby in a blanket with a stuffed animal you had made for him

-"No good conversation ever started with that phrase" - she joked as if to make you laugh but it didn't work - "look, If this is for the baby or me being to much at your house, I'll try to make things easier for you or take him with me a few nights... Anything that you want... You have done so much for him that I can't ask you anything else..."-She whispered a little embarrassedly and you sighed

-"It's not for him, it's for us, for what happened last night... The kiss, the electricity, the connection... I know I didn't imagine that feeling..."-You replied and this time it was her turn to sigh

-"We've had this conversation before... You know no matter how many feelings we have for each other, we can't be together, I don't want to hurt you..." - she said, avoiding your gaze

-"But you hurt me anyways, that's what you don't get it... Being with you feels good and this house feels like a home when you're with me, I'd rather have nothing but having you and the baby, than having all the riches in the world, because if I have you two, I have everything I need. I know you're afraid to do this because you're scared of the future, because you don't want to make me suffer if you get hurt in battle and don't come back. But I suffer more every time you're with me putting up a wall to keep your distance from me, I suffer more in those moments, than when I have to wait for you to come back from the battles... I suffer anyway waiting for you whether we are a couple or not, because even if we are nothing, I still love you and for me you are everything...I'll suffer more if I don't have you, than if you're mine and I have to wait for you to come back"-Brienne looked at you in surprise as she listened to you

-"You what?" - she asked

-"I said you like it or not, that I love you...I love you both and our little and unconventional family, because that's what we are, a family, even if you don't admit it"-You said more confidently and she smiled at you making you a little uncomfortable for not understanding why she was smiling - "Why are you smiling?"

-"Because you love me..."-she replied in a mocking tone

-"Look, if you're going to laugh at me for what I said, I'll get you out of the house and I won't let you in even if you're freezi..."-You said with a frown but the blonde grabbed your waist tightly and pulled you closer to her by sticking you close to her body, causing a small cry of surprise to come out of your mouth. Brienne was still smiling and caressed your cheek looking into your eyes, making you blush a little from the intensity of her gaze

-"I love you too... A lot... I love you, the baby, and our little unconventional family... And I'm terrified of hurting you if I ever get wounded in battle and I can't come back... But I'm more afraid that if I try to avoid a relationship with you, someone else will come and take this little piece of heaven away from me... So scared or not, I want to be with you if you'll let me... I want to be with you and the baby, I want our little ray of sunshine to grow up with both of us... "-she gently kissed your lips smiling, making you smile too-" I'm yours, and if you let me, I want you to be mine..."

-"I wanna be yours"- You whispered and hid in her chest, taking advantage of the warmth while she hugged you. The little baby, seeing how the two of you were together without including him, started screaming making you laugh. Carefully you picked him up and hugged him, putting him between you and Brienne, the little one curled up in your chest and frowned at Brienne-"I think you're already late, you'll have to fight for my love with him"-You whispered laughing and the blonde started tickling the baby making him laugh a lot

-"It will be a tickling fight until someone gives up, the winner will stay with you and your love, everything is allowed"-She said jokingly and the baby took advantage of the blonde's closeness and grabbed her golden curls with great strength, pulling them roughly-"Okey Okey, I give up"- the blonde said and you carefully opened the baby's hand to let go of her hair and she breathed a sigh of relief - "Cheater"- She muttered looking at the baby

-"You said everything was allowed" - you laughed and she pouted at you, carefully you gave her a little kiss on her lips-"You don't have to fight, there's enough of me for you both..."-Brienne smiled hugging and kissing your foreheads, her heart full of love and happiness with her little perfect family.

[letsquestjess]

My Symphony - Part 1 (Tech x GN!Reader)

Summary: After Tech hears you playing music, he can't help but listen, slowly falling for the musician tugging on his heartstrings.

Word count: 2.7K

Warnings: Putting an 18+ / MDNI on this one since there is a slightly heated bit in the middle. Mentions of injury and death. Set pre-order 66.

A/N: This one has been quite long in the making but I finally got it finished. Enjoy!

Part 2

-- -- -- -- --

Mumbling quietly to himself as he reviewed his daily schedule, Tech made his way down the blinding white corridor, scratching absently at the itch on his chin. His brothers had already fallen behind on their duties, so he reorganised the items to accommodate any contingencies.

Wrecker usually spends an extra twenty minutes in the mess hall around this time of week, he contemplated, analysing the pattern of delays from previous weeks. And Crosshair and Hunter are still occupied by their disagreement over the bunk situation. Deep ridges settled between his brows and he clicked his tongue. 

The end room emitted a delicate melody, tender notes muffled by the room’s sound insulation. He paused by the partially open door and stole a glimpse of what was inside. Rooms in this section of the city were mostly abandoned, but a staff member sat at the Pantoran spinet, pressing at the instrument and mollifying a lullaby in a tempered arrangement of tones and pitches.

Music ebbed and flowed in perfect rhythm, and Tech lowered his datapad. As you focused your attention on creating that blissful sound, your eyes danced from key to key, and a serene smile formed on your lips. Mellow harmonies merged to create a soothing theme that eased his worries and allayed his brilliant, yet always racing, mind. 

A set of footsteps approached, and springing into motion, he darted away from the soft sounds and headed for the simulation centre to wait for his brothers. 

But the harmony never left him. In the weeks that followed, he still felt the vibrations in his chest and often found himself humming your tune as he tinkered with his latest project. Your music had built a home in his mind, haunting him in the most welcomed way possible, and he purposely began taking the same route to linger outside whenever you played. At first, he wondered if the instrument’s frequency had hypnotic qualities, but after conducting some thorough research into the matter, he concluded that it simply had a pacifying effect on him. 

Finding some free time after lunch, he made his usual trek to the training facility and slowed at the euphoric vibration filling the vacant corridor. Rather than checking through the door as he normally did, he opted to sit on the floor outside and let the music wash over him, eyes fluttering shut as he tilted his head against the wall. Every shift and lull caressed him, whispering sweet words and-

“Tech?”

He bolted upright as soon as he saw Hunter looming over him with folded arms and a lifted eyebrow. 

“What are you doing?” his brother asked, amused. 

“I was… I was merely…” Tech prepared to fire his excuses, but the rich melody behind him continued to play, continued to turn every rational thought to mush. As it stopped and the door slid open, he was saved from one embarrassing situation and launched into another, whirling round and coming face to face with the musician he’d been admiring for weeks. He shoved his goggles up to the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat. 

You smiled apologetically at the two clones and scanned the deserted corridor outside. “I wasn’t playing too loud, was I? Didn’t think many people came this way.” 

“No, of course not, we were…” Seeking to ignore the knowing smirk his brother aimed at him, Tech stood up straight. “I overheard you several weeks ago. You are exceptionally skilled.”

A breath snagged at the compliment, and ignoring the flush of heat rising, you stepped aside, inviting them into the hushed hum. “If you have some time, you’re both more than welcome to come in and listen.”

“I have places to be,” Hunter stated, “but I’m sure Tech would love to take you up on that offer.”

The clone in question nodded, his jaw clenching against the urge to reprimand his brother for his behaviour. He made a mental note to have a stern conversation with him about it later. 

As Hunter strolled away with a tickled grin plastered on his face, you prompted Tech into the room and encouraged him towards the array of chairs. Introducing yourself, you slid onto the cushioned bench behind the spinet. “I didn’t realise anybody came here anymore,” you said. “I thought this part of the city was mostly used for storage.” 

“It is, but I discovered a route that gets me to the training facility three minutes quicker,” Tech replied. 

“And it leads you right past here?”

“Precisely.” He chose the seat closest to you and scanned over the assortment of badges on your left sleeve. “You work in the data department.” 

“Mostly archives,” you sighed, arranging the sheet music and selecting one from the middle. “It can get pretty boring in there but occasionally something interesting shows up.” 

With a slight shrug, you began to play, hands floating up and down, and back again to inspire the instrument to sing. The song started peacefully, affectionately, like a friendly explorer coaxing a frightened animal out of hiding. An impassioned lilt of treble notes soared and Tech hung onto every alteration in sound, eyebrows lifting of their own volition as though to follow the stirring rise. 

You suppressed a grin at the reverie in his gaze. It had been a while since you’d had an audience, and never one as enraptured as this.  

* * *

After your initial meeting, Tech became a regular visitor, often finding reasons to stop by and listen while you played. He conducted his research while in your melodious company, and you quickly found a sense of ease in his presence, admiring his directness and his curiosity. 

“Would you like to sit with me?” you asked one rainy afternoon, the elements battering on the ceiling. His eyes flicked up from his datapad and the amber speckles glistened at the proposition. 

“I assumed you would need adequate space in order to play comfortably,” he said. 

“There’s plenty of room for you, me and the music,” you jested, tapping the vacant spot next to you on the bench. 

He approached with a hint of hesitation, but seeing that you could still perform unhindered by his closeness, he relaxed and observed in fascination. Up close, he distinguished each keystroke and the length of the notes as you held them in place, assisting them to shine just a little longer. He was accustomed to the cacophony of war, to blaster fire and the shrieks of the fleeing and dying, but your music sounded like pure starlight and the notion warmed him. 

“If you want, I can teach you a few basics,” you said, pausing your pleasing tune. He responded with a keen nod, and you helped him position his gloved digits over the lower level of keys, encouraging him to apply a gentle pressure. “Now, go up a set. That’s it. And up again.” Step by step, you instructed him from one end of the spinet to the other in a series of precise scales and the odd false note. “Okay, keep that going.” 

A graceful composition sparked from your fingertips as they glided effortlessly across the top level to harmonise with his rhythm. Concentration occupied his expression, but you picked up on the hint of a grin at your united effort. 

As you finished your song on the lower set of keys, his thumb grazed yours, light and controlled. No longer focused on the music, his reverent gaze fixed onto you. 

Instinct drove his movements, shaky hands abandoning the musical instrument to find the curve of your waist and cradle your cheek. Seconds ticked by endlessly in a palpable silence. As though a switch had flipped, he abruptly retreated. Alarmed, his demeanour coiled in on itself and his leg bounced. 

“I apologise, I am not sure what came over me,” he said, embarrassment blossoming pink on the tips of his ears. 

“It’s okay, Tech.” You guided him to your waist and your cheek again, and he melted into your touch. “I’ve been thinking the same. Wanting the same.” His guard slowly eased, but you sensed the vulnerability in his movement. “You can tell me what you want.” Noting him struggling to form a sound, you leaned a little closer to whisper in his ear, “Or you could show me if that’s easier.” 

An endearing furrow scrunched at his eyebrows, and you almost saw the thoughts circulating, calculating his next step. He gradually raised his eyes and held them steady, determined not to look away this time. The scent of standard issue shampoo welcomed you into his space and you set a tender kiss on his cheek, letting him adapt to the experience. Like a tightly wound coil snapping, he was on you. 

Hesitancy vanished as he surrendered wholeheartedly to his desire to feel you. Eyes squeezed shut, he studied every fluctuation of your lips as though it was his only purpose, to chart the gradual developments, the tender, the passionate, the clambering, urgent need to be part of each other. 

The datapad on the sheet music stand beeped and Tech detangled himself from your comforting embrace with a grumble, shooting the infernal device a cursory glance. “A briefing has been called.”

From the way he pursed his lips, you gathered he wasn’t thrilled about going, but you didn’t want to risk him getting into trouble. Certainly not on your behalf. “Go,” you told him. “I will meet you here after dinner. Might even play you some more songs, if you’re lucky.” 

“Already am lucky,” he said in his love-drunk haze, squeezing you close to him and only releasing his grip once you insisted he get going. Gathering his belongings, he gave you one last kiss and headed out into the silent corridor. 

Tech didn’t meet you after dinner. You paced between the instruments and listened to the persistent click of your steps until exhaustion finally led you to your quarters. After sending him a quick message, you tried to settle down for the night, but the quiet was deafening and sleep only came when you were too drained to do anything but rest. 

You woke with a start to the sound of your shrieking alarm, and your heart raced as you fumbled for your datapad, searching for any messages. Inbox empty, you got yourself up and prepared for the day ahead. 

The weeks seemed to blend together in a monotonous blur of loneliness and worry until you received news of Clone Force 99’s disappearance during a covert mission. Upon discovering the reports, you made a beeline for the music room and settled at the spinet in silence. Unable to touch a single key, to hear a note without your fear boiling over, you clamped a hand over your mouth and bawled. Your tears dribbled through your fingers and onto the old instrument, salty droplets mixing with the dust on the peeling redwood. 

After a while, it all became a distant memory, and you stopped visiting altogether. The kiss was vivid in your mind, and you couldn’t help but think about what might have been if you had asked him to stay with you. But wondering about it now would accomplish nothing. What was done was done, and all you could do was wait. 

Bleary-eyed and still half-asleep after another restless night, you traipsed towards the archives and passed a group of clones congregated outside the mess hall, deep in discussion. 

“Yeah, it was definitely Clone Force 99,” a clone said to his brothers. “By the sounds of it, they almost got caught by Seppies. Nasty stuff. Couple were brought back on stretchers. Don’t think they’ll be out of the med bay soon.” 

Your thumping heart drowned out the rest. Everything you had endured over the past month shattered, crashed, burned, hurt more than you could handle, and you hurried along inconspicuously.

It couldn’t be true. Tipoca city was always abuzz with rumours, and this was merely another. But in the recesses of your mind, in the house of all your dread, you saw Tech lying lifeless on a stretcher, transported home through blankets of rain and howling winds. 

You took a diligent breath and straightened your clothes, forcing yourself to slow your flurried steps as you made your way to the medical facility. Beyond the doors, the clone on duty signalled for you to retreat. 

“We have active surgeries going on here,” he said. “Unless you’re hurt or there is an emergency, I can’t help.” 

“No, I…” You could tell he wasn’t going to let you see Tech, and you glimpsed the badges on your sleeve reflecting in the mirror behind his desk. “I work with data management,” you told the medic. “There were some reports about Clone Force 99, but they were scrambled. I was sent to talk to one of them to clarify a few things.” 

“Afraid not,” the clone replied. “Two are in surgery and the other two are getting checked over. I’ll send someone to your department as soon as I can.” 

You refrained from asking for more information about who was in the operating theatre. Instead, you nodded your thanks and departed to the one place you knew held some solace. Darkness hid the instruments and the benches until you switched the lights on. It seemed odd returning after weeks of avoiding it. 

The spinet, untouched since you’d last played it, beckoned you, promised sanctuary and shelter from your pain. As you wriggled to get relaxed on the bench, the smooth discoloured keys tickled your fingertips, cold and forgotten. 

You ran through the practice scales and drove headstrong into the melody that had been haunting you: the tune you’d played almost six months ago when you had found Tech in the hallway and invited him in. Fateful notes mounted and swelled like a gushing river, tearing out of you to expand in the current of song placed earnestly by your hands. Every atom of your soul poured into the music as you rocked forward and your fingers ached from the obstinate pressure. 

“If you keep pressing the keys in that manner, it will wear them down considerably.”

Abruptly halting mid-press, the reverberations deteriorated, and you shot from your seat. Tech’s weary eyes met yours as he braced himself on the door frame. The blotchy red and violet smudges beneath his lower lashes crinkled, and he grappled to keep himself upright.

Without a word, you offered him your arms to lean on and he stumbled into you. You noted the bruises and cuts, the bandage wrapped around his bicep, and the way he limped and leaned to the left. 

In measured movements, you eased him onto the bench and let out a surprised yelp when he tugged you down. “You had me worried,” you said, mindful of his injuries as you nestled into his lap. “I thought… I didn’t know if…” 

Nose nuzzling your neck and arms caging you closer, he gave you a murmured, “I’m sorry.” 

Those whispered words wrenched at your heart and you shook your head at him. “Don’t apologise. It wasn’t your fault, and I am just glad you’re okay.” His usually bright eyes stared at you sluggishly and you traced your thumbs along his unscathed jawline. “Are your brothers all right? When I went to the med bay, the medic told me two were in surgery.” 

“Hunter sustained multiple shots to the chest and Wrecker got caught in an explosion,” Tech explained. “I have been assured that they will both recover, but it is going to be a slow process.” 

“And Crosshair?”

“Minor injuries like mine.” 

You wanted to ask more, but all you could think about was his body close to yours, alive and warm. The two of you were together, and that was all that mattered. “You should have gone to your barracks and got some rest.”

“I did not know what to do,” he said, so small and fragile, and unlike him it plucked at your composure. “The medics would not let me stay once they were certain I would be all right, so I came here.” The corners of his lips rose gingerly in a tired but determined smile to be brave for you. “I came here to my symphony.” 

As you shifted cautiously and sat down next to him on the bench, you gently guided him to lie down and rest his head in your lap. He adjusted his position until he found a comfortable spot and his breathing evened out.

“Perhaps this will help,” you said, playing a slow lullaby. Sweet notes drifting between you both, you stroked your hand through his hair to soothe him with your touch and the music you hoped would bring him some peace. 

TAGLIST (Message if you’d like to be added, 18+ only)

@freesia-writes @the-hexfiles @theeyesofasoldier @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @skellymom

[malum-forev]

Reputation: Endgame

*

Summary: Bucky is sooo Reputation coded so, here's Endgame by Taylor Swift (Bucky's Version)

Previous: ...Ready For It?

The quinjet was quiet, nothing more than the constant sound of the engine. Neither you nor Bucky hadn’t spoken a word since you left the country you were hiding in but, it didn’t feel awkward. 

You’d heard he was a man of a few words and you were used to being in silence. Since fleeing the Red Room, you’d been traveling alone. Solo travel takes a whole new meaning when you’re hiding from the world and from your past. 

“You’re a hard person to find.” Bucky broke the silence. 

“I know.” Your simple response made Bucky scoff. He was mid eyeroll when you turned to him. “Is there a problem?”

He shook his head. “Not a problem, just a- let’s call it a full circle moment.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your jaw slacked. 

“Most of the times when I get mission reports, the target is very vague. Hair color, ethnicity, age range, a picture if I’m lucky but with you, I got a full manuscript. Off the record obviously because there is no actual record of you anywhere.” A whisper of a smug smile hovered over Bucky’s lips. “I don’t usually pay attention to what is written of people because it’s usually bullshit but with you, they’ve got you down to a T.”

 Bucky has the audacity to shrug his shoulders! Like it was the most casual thing ever. The man you met barely an hour ago, who by the way has the worst reputation ever, thinks he can read you like a book.

“Is that right?” Your molars grinded together. “What did they warn you about?”

“Egocentric, narcissistic, selfish,”

Bucky was ready to keep spilling more kind words about you but you interrupted. “Glad to know Natasha thinks highly of me.”

“Just to name a few.” Bucky’s eyes were set forward, the right side of his lips curved upwards. “Big reputation.”

Now you scoffed. “You and me, buddy. We got big reputations.” 

His playful expression hardened, like you had poked a side of him that immediately lifted the iron gates. 

“Now’s not the time to get serious. You heard all of my worst qualities and you still decided to come on this rescue mission. You have to be a special kind of messed up to do that.” You laughed. “You heard about me so, you know I’ve got some big enemies but I know you’re on the same boat as myself.”

Your light tone was chipping away at the ice. He’d frozen, no pun intended, that part of himself a long time ago. When he was ‘normal’ (a term Dr. Raynor had told him time and time again he shouldn’t use) he loved to banter. It was his preferred method of flirtation and just conversation in general. But now, he truly felt like a fish out of water. The times had completely changed and he felt like sometimes he had to process information on a first-generation computer when the people around him were living in a world he’d only seen on TV. 

“If only the people who are out to get us knew we were in the same plane,” Bucky said. “We’d be a big conversation.”

The plane fell silent again, the comfortable void caressed your shoulders. Like a whisper of something you’d never felt before suddenly became familiar. 

“It’s not true, you know.” Bucky cleared his throat. “What they say about me. Most of what they say I did isn’t true. My reputation, it doesn’t precede me.” 

“Well, I heard you once took down a whole Hydra base with only one gun and a couple of knives.” You nudged on. “And that was after the Winter Soldier.” 

“I actually did that with only knives.” He turned to look at you with a smile. 

You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone look more beautiful smiling. He tugged his lower lips in between his pearly whites and the sides of his eyes crinkled. He threw his head back and a bubbling laughter invaded his body. It was a little bit hoarse, like he was out of practice. 

How long had it been since he’d laughed? You wondered.

 “That’s not true.” He said once he came back, shaking his head. “The media loves to twist the narrative. They needed a bad boy on the team and I just happened to be the closest thing they could find.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing because never in your whole life did you think you would hear The Winter Soldier refer to himself as a ‘bad boy’.

“That’s what they like.” He shrugged his shoulders. 

Your eyes roamed his body. From his short brunet hair to his beautiful blue eyes that shone like the night sky you saw in the windshield. Down to his short scruffy beard that made you want to run your hands against it. Feel the rough texture, touch him. To his muscular arms, you could see the definition through his thin shirt, the sleeves had been bunched up near his elbow revealing his forearms. Veiny and thick making you want to-

You snapped your head forward, forcing yourself to concentrate on the sky in front of you. You cannot think about him like this. This is just a mission. Nothing more. That means no touching an no thinking because those two things only lead to missing him, hurting him, or worse, becoming another ex-love. 

You’re not trying to play, you’re trying to get to Natasha and work. 

Your cold shift made Bucky rethink your entire conversation. Had he said something to upset you? Did he go over the line? Were his thoughts true or are they his past issues coming back? He’s got chips on both his shoulders and it shows. There he goes again with the negative self-talk. 

Sometimes Bucky wished he could shut his brain off, find the master switch and go to bed. Some days it was easier to manage than others and he’d found a way to ignore it, it was easier this way. But the days where it was harder to ease, those were true battles. His flaws, paranoia and insecurities lurked in the back of his mind like monsters in the closet. 

He’s made mistakes and made some very bad choices, that’s hard to deny but sometimes he wishes he could just forget. But with a reputation as big as his, it’s hard to get a clean slate.

The quinjet started its descent into the Avengers compound, the white building in your sights. As you got closer the plane felt bumpier, the wind was not in your favor and the landing was getting complicated. You snaked your hand on the center console at the same time as Bucky, effectively placing your hands on top of his. You felt a sudden jolt of energy that eased your nerves as your skin touched his but it was taken away far too soon. 

Your throat felt dry and you tried to push any sign of nervousness deep into that rarely visited vault in your brain. You tried to forget the feeling but you couldn’t. 

You went through a dark cloud and the rest of the landing was smooth. Your body ached from the long flight and the only thing you wanted was to get off. It had nothing to do with you wanting to get as far away from Bucky as you could, nothing to do with the strange reaction your body had to him. 

Bucky lead you through the compound, the tall walls and windows made you feel more isolated than ever. Sure, you’d been alone for a long time but here it felt like the loneliness seeped into your bones. 

“You’re safe here.” Bucky said, just above a whisper, leading you down a long corridor into the kitchen. “You don’t need to feel scared.”

You opened your mouth to respond but nothing came out. 

Bucky opened the refrigerator and pulled something out, taking it to the microwave. Bucky rested both of his hands on the edge of the kitchen island. 

“I don’t feel scared.” You finally got out, straightening your back. 

Bucky’s blue eyes softened. “I’m just saying it’s okay if you do. I know I felt that way when I got here. When you’re on the run, you’ve got nothing to lose. You’re used to the feeling of independence but here, you feel watched. Scrutinized.”

Your eyes widened at his words. Did he have the ability to look into your soul? It was the only possible answer. He was calling your bluff on all your usual tricks like it was nothing. 

You bit your bottom lip, debating whether you should open yourself to him, you were sure it had turned deep red now. 

“I usually am always the first to know everything. I always know what happens next and I plan for everything. Even when missions are over and I’ve buried hatchets, I keep maps of where I put them just in case.” You said with a laugh to try and mask the truth you spoke. “But this, Nat sending you to find me, I never expected this. I just- don’t know what happens next.” 

“I guess your reputation precedes you.” Bucky said with a smile, taking the food out of the microwave. Your nostrils flooded with the delicious scent of your favorite meal. He pushed the container towards you, slapping on a post it note from Natasha. Welcome home. It said. “They told me you’re crazy.”

A true smile ripped through you.

“I swear I don’t love the drama.” You promised. “It loves me.”

The two of you ate directly from the container, too exhausted to take plates out. Conversation died down and the silence came back. Only a few hums here and there and some stolen glances. His eyes were like liquor, tempting you and his body like gold, wanting to bring you in. You focused back on your food, wanting to erase the handprint he left on your soul from the second you saw him first, only a few hours ago. 

Author's Note: Hi hiiii I hope you guys like this second part!! If you do, you know the drill, please comment reblog and like! As always my asks are always open &lt;3

tagged: @kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour

*Any gifs posted are not my own and I give the artist full credit.

[lychello]

jealousy, jealousy | s. reid

pairing : jealous spencer reid x male reader

wc : roughly 1,900

a/n : i appreciate requests because it gives me more variety to work with but i was thinking about this for a while and i thought Holy shit what would jealous spencer reid look like So here we are.

Also I didn't go over this more than once, so if there's a spelling or grammar mistake or two, either tell me or ignore it.

you're not as affectionate when working, so it takes a while before you begin to notice the response

content warnings : jealousy, spencer's trauma references, sexual implications, themes and references, comfort

"What did you say her name was?"

You hold a notepad in your hands, scribbling down random connections you could make from the girl's trembling tone. She answers hesitantely. "...I don't know."

You smile, "That's okay, that's okay... you're doing great. Anything else?"

Spencer sits beside you, recounting the conversation in his head, looking for details you might have missed and studying the expression of the girl's face as if looking for something that might resemble a lie.

You two have been in a relationship for the past few months, the team doesn't know; and quite frankly you don't care if they do. Although for someone so set on showing off, Spencer hasn't really made you known—not because of the feeling of being ashamed—but because he's never wanted to let the world steal you from him like the other parts of his job has.

A woman stands beside the girl, no older than 25. Her pitch is high as she talks to you, and the repetition in her voice starts to be caught on by the man standing close beside you. His eyes narrow vaguely, "you're her sister. Am I right?"

"Why, is it obvious we both share the same parents?" Her blonde hair gets caught on the inside of her earring, and her voice naturally gets lower as she looks to Spencer. His voice starts to speed up, "Well, typically older sisters have qualities that remind you of the relative, and not just in appearances too—in simple terms your hand movements match that—" The girl seems to look more scornful the more Spencer speaks, and in doing so, backs closer to her sister. "...I was making a joke." Ignoring the two, you speak up again, crouching to the child's height. "Would you ask your sister if you can do me one more favour by coming down to the station? We're going to show you a few pictures and you'll choose the one who most resembles who you saw. Is that okay?"

Before she has a chance to deny, the woman gazing at you speaks out, far too confidently in the aid of a girl with a missing best friend, and little leads. "Yes! That's okay." Spencer glances at you, whispering, a little louder than what was considered, "...Are you sure about bringing the older one?"

"The girl needs a relative's support; they seem to be close. She's only six... maybe seven, Reid." Your voice softens as you take into account his perspective, "She may be an asshole, but she could be a huge help in speaking logically considering how shaken the younger girl is." You pat his shoulder, "If you're worried, Spence, I promise—I'll stay careful."

Spencer isn't concerned about your safety, he knows you can handle it; he's worried about how you'll react once it comes to your knowledge that he's jealous, but he doesn't let it be known. For the moment, he understands that you're focused on getting the sisters back safely without disturbing their memories.

Still, it doesn't diminish the look of affection in her eyes as she stares at you.

————

Upon entrance to the station, you lead the girls to the interrogation room, advising the older sister to stay out while Emily showcases images and narrows down the search. The sister, you, and Spencer stand behind the glass, watching quietly.

Spencer glances at the girl beside him, "I didn't catch your name."

"Tamika." She says after little hesitance.

"Were you there?" you ask, keeping your eyes stable through the glass. "Did you leave your sister alone?"

Tamika's face sinks lower as she senses how aloof your tone is. "Um... no. No, I wasn't there. She was with her friends at the, um, time. I didn't think much of it..."

You stay silent for a few brief moments before responding with "Okay."

Spencer's eyes trail over her facial features. She was pretty—that much was obvious—her figure was slim, and her eyes were puppy-like. Freckles covered the bridge of her nose and her hair was even a perfect shade of gold.

There's a thought tugging on his mind, one of grief, that tells him you're willing to leave him for someone better, someone like her.

"Why? Why not?" Spencer's voice hovers on an accusatory tone. "Surely you would have noticed something was wrong?—"

"Reid, stop." You say, sternly. "What has gotten into you?"

There's some sense of jealousy set in his expression, but it's vague, and only noticeable to the trained eye. Her sore eyes never leave your soft skin. Her sore eyes never leave you.

"..." Of course, you notice. You always notice when it comes to him, you notice everything. From the mole on his right cheek to the singular ringlet on the back of his neck.

You glance down at your wrist, the time on your watch reads 10:43pm. It's not late for the team members, but it is for everyone else.

The door to the room opens and Emily walks in, sighing. "She's too shaken to identify a set person yet. We've only narrowed down a few."

"Run them by Garcia." Spencer says with his hands stuffed into his cuffed jeans, his voice still uneven. "I'll go over the case files again tonight."

Emily shoots him a glance as if to ask what's wrong with him, but within a few seconds she grins sarcastically, "Roger that, Dr. Reid."

The bounds of the room keep the conversation inside, and the doors don't slam as loud when Emily leaves with an open flip phone in one hand and four pictures in the other.

For a few brief, uncomfortable moments, there's silence.

Taking the discomfort as an opportunity to manipulate, Tamika's left hand brushes softly over your arm, "Hey, um... Y/N, was it? Can we talk?"

Noticing the attention, you keep your voice steady. "What is there to talk about? Your sister is waiting outside with one of the other team members. It's late. Go home."

Her fingertips trace your bicep, her voice lowering slightly more in the means of seduction. "Mhm, I know, I know... but... would you like to come over? I can put the girl to bed while you and I..." Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, "don't make me say it."

"Y/N, we're going back to the motel. Come on." Spencer's voice wavers with a brief disgust as he stands by the door with his phone open on a message. "Hotch is giving orders."

Tamika looks up, "But—"

You nod to Spencer, moving away from her touch. There's no hint of a response; you leave her speechless where she is and she soon decides whether to leave on her own, or be escorted out.

————

As soon as Spencer closes the door to the motel room, you kiss him along the corner of his mouth. "Spence, baby, today was rough..."

He giggles in response, using his palm to push against your mouth as if using his hand to defy your attacks. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, do your homework."

You grin playfully and, after enough convincing, you let go.

The motel room wasn't exactly cheap, but you could afford it quite easily. Velvet curtains line the windows and there is plenty of space for clothing. The beds are singularly separate and lined against each other. Everyone in the team was told to split two into each room, and coincidentally you two ended up together.

Spencer is already pulling books from his bag and flipping through loose annotations, while you're setting files on your desk to sort through. After four or five books, you feel him lean his head on your shoulder from the back.

You chuckle softly under your breath at the embrace and put your hands through your pocket to pull out your keys only to halt, pulling a slot of paper from your pocket. "Huh." You murmur, turning it over to read the numbers on the back.

Spencer looks up, "What's that?"

"A phone number." You whisper in thought. "Must be Tamika's, right?"

Spencer's head perks up higher. "...What? When would she have had the time to do that? I can't think of any... what?"

You shrug, putting it to the side on the desk below you to continue sorting files.

He murmurs into your shoulder softly, "...Are you going to text it?"

You place your hand on the back of his head although looking away from him. "Maybe. She could still provide us useful information if she finds any out."

"You know that's not why she, uh, left it."

You notice his stuttering and pull him off your shoulder, turning around. The look in your eye speaks volumes against his discomfort and he swallows heavily.

"Spence, baby, are you jealous?"

Your voice is soft in an attempt to console him but there are hints of amusement stuck to it. You, alone, know the answer, but by questioning him, it made this far more fun than it was already.

"Huh? No. Why would I be jealous? She... no." He sputters out, still clinging onto your waist despite being moved to face you instead.

"Oh come on, you're a horrible liar when it comes to me. Besides, I noticed earlier today in the station, you've been a lot less talkative as of late than ever, haven't you?" Your hand crawls up his neck gently. "...Spence, please."

Although he was half listening, the way you say his name makes shivers walk up his spine and his lack of attention fully subsides when he looks up at you. His back straightens suddenly to the point he's now standing taller, "What?"

"You know I love you. Like... seriously love you. I don't know if I could ever explain that to you, but I do."

He stares at you, dark brown gazing into your eyes. "...I know, I know... I love you too. I just—" His tone falls to a whisper before trailing off. "You seemed interested. And she was pretty... you know?" He continued eventually.

You stay quiet before laughing. "What about me screamed 'interested'?"

With your palms holding his face, he moves his gaze to your lips and back to your eyes, "What?"

"I was avoiding her at any cost... I highly doubt that's something you do to your love." You run your thumb along his cheek, almost in a subconscious motion, as he processes exactly what you said.

"She was seducing you." He says flatly, "You know that. You knew that—and you didn't take up the offer? Why?"

You stare at him blankly. "...Because I don't love her? I'm not sure what you want me to say here, Spence, but I can assure you that is my reasoning."

The clock strikes 12am in the motel, night seeping in through the curtain cracks and moonlight illuminating what the ceiling light can't.

You pull Spencer closer, running your fingers through his hair. "There is no one in this world who could replace you. And even if there were, I wouldn't take it. I wouldn't give you up. There's no one better than you."

"..."

Spencer's hands fall into your lap as he leans his head into your chest. "I know, I just—I know. I'm really sorry."

You laugh. "Don't apologise! Things happen. I get jealous around you sometimes too, you know?" You notice him smile into your shirt and you pat through his hair, grinning. "Tough day, huh?"

He shakes his head at you, "Stop talking now."