#i wrote this in my car whilst waiting for a milkshake

[icewazowski]

Little Bird

Valeria x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3.7k

AN: Not a particularly spicy one, here’s some warnings; NSFW 18+ slight thigh riding, deception, reader doesn’t know who Valeria is

Kate Laswell's eyes never left mine as she presented the briefing to me, it was supposed to be easy. Undercover work was my forté, it was something I'd nearly perfected during my time in the military, and now I was practically Laswell's lap dog for these sorts of missions. "Do you have any questions?" She asked me after bombarding my brain with knowledge of who my character was.

At first thought, I didn't have any questions at all, but the more I delved deeper into the woman code-named, 'Serpent', all I could think about was what drove me. The motivation behind wanting to join El Sin Nombre and be in their cartel opposed to doing good. I couldn't just be someone who did it for nothing, "Kate, what's Serpent's motivation?" I asked her, my hands crossed on the desk before me as I picked at the bubblegum pink polish on my nails. "She can't just hate everything and everyone because she wants to,"

"See," Kate smiled softly as she approached the seat opposite mine at the conference table, her face replaced the sinister smiling photo of General Shepherd, "Her motivation, is sex,"

I spluttered, "What?"

"You heard me," She replied with a smirk on her lips, "Why not? It'll be fun for you, and it'll be easier to get your way,"

I looked at the file in front of me, the one without a picture simply because El Sin Nombre didn't exist as far as we knew, "Ma'am, respectfully, have you lost your mind?" my voice was unsteady as I spoke, yet all I could think about was infiltrating the cartel as someone who was motivated by sex and sex alone. Not power, not money, but sex. To be desired.

Laswell's laugh was the last thing I expected to hear as the blush crept across my skin at the mere thought of trotting around like some prostitute, "Maybe, but it's the best way to get you in. You'll be a Bottle Girl, and when it comes to it, you'll find your way to Sin Nombre when he's most vulnerable," she trailed off.

"So, when I'm on top of him, I'll do what exactly? Kill him like Amy did in Gone Girl?" I couldn't even start to believe this, it was absurd. Kate Laswell expected me to go in there scantily clad and for me to sleep my way to El Sin Nombre? Jesus Christ, I needed a drink.

Kate's hands met mine from across the table, "You'll be fine, and besides, who said Sin Nombre's a man?" she said with a wink.

Deep down, aside from our work relationship, I had always been close to Laswell. She was the only woman who really understood what it was like to be gay in the military, although I was Bisexual myself, she understood how daunting it can be. Hell, I'd come out to her when I was drunk in her arms one night by accidentally telling her I wanted to marry her. Of course, Kate being Kate, she was more than loyal to her wife. And, that's how I found out she was married, too.

"Kate, you're going to owe me for this," I sighed, having finally given up to the idea of negotiating a different path for my character, "When I come back, there better be an invitation to your house so your wife can make me lasagne,"

She patted my clenched fists, "Of course," she stood up, her hand reached for the door behind her, "Don't have too much fun," she winked, as though I'd suddenly become the cartel's personal bitch ready to be used and abused by all the men there. This was really going to fucking suck, I just knew it.

---

The mask over my face concealed the person from me, though I didn't need eyes to know El Sin Nombre's personal Sicaria was a woman, come on, it was in the name. Her perfume invaded my senses as I sat rigid in the chair, waiting for her to either kill me or grant me entry. And yet, all I could think about was how attractive her perfume was, how strong it was as the scent wrapped around me warmly.

"Do you speak Spanish?" She asked me, her voice rasped. God, even her voice was attractive, "Little bird?" She followed up with the arbitrary nickname she'd decided to give me. I'd only seen a slither of her lean body as I was forced into the room in the dress that clung a bit too tight to me, but it was enough to make me realise this was not going to be easy.

With a sigh of defeat, I shook my head, "No," I replied, "I don't."

The click-clack sound her tongue made as it flicked across her teeth struck my ears violently at first, but soothed my nerves the more she did it; she was disappointed to say the least, and so was I. "Such a shame," she cooed as she walked around, her voice trailed behind her like a ghost. And, if I was able to, I'd trail behind her too just for another breath of that sweet, sweet perfume she wore. "You're too beautiful to not speak more than one language," she practically purred before her hands placed onto my shoulders.

I craned my neck at the contact, my blind eyes stared up at her as my lips parted softly, "They say the best way to learn a language is through something... but I can't remember what it is," I admitted. It was something I'd heard before, something Alejandro had told me the first time I'd met him months prior, sure, he'd meant it as a flirty thing, and I remember our nights together vividly, but I can't recall the saying.

"The best way to learn a language is through fucking," She finished the phrase, "I'm sure plenty of my men would love to lay their hands on my little bird," she said, and something rustled as she dug her hand into her pockets. The blade clicked into place, and she cut the zip-ties from my wrist before she allowed me to remove the blind-fold. My Little Bird.

The dim light was a welcome for my sore eyes, and it didn't take much time to adjust before I could see her clearly, see the pink polish on her nails which matched mine perfectly, "You like my nails?" I asked her, just to ease the very real fact that she could end my life in a fraction of a second if she so wanted to. I pulled my fingers into a fist to show her, and she took my hand in hers.

The Sicaria had much better nails, hers looked almost professional in how they were done, "They're cute," she said, almost as though she was disappointed mine weren't as polished as hers. The edges were asymmetrical, having done them myself with no sleep was obviously the crux of that mystery, "I'll do yours later," she propositioned.

I drew my eyebrows together, "Are they that bad?" I joked back.

"It looks like a child did them," she purred as she held my hand for a bit too long, "Anyway, I'm keeping you here, you might be of some use to me," she smiled, "At least, more use than the person before you, hm?" she stepped to the side and tilted her head towards the corpse behind her. Such disregard for the dead, it was almost impressive.

What should have been scary, only managed to cause my smile to widen, "I like you," A pause finished my sentence, she hadn't even introduced herself to me, I had no clue what her name was, though she knew mine, that had been the one thing she'd requested when I first met her.

"Valeria," She said, her accent came through as she spoke her own name, and how badly I wanted to say it, to repeat her name as though it was the most prised gem I'd ever come across, as though it would bleed life back into me just to say it.

Instead, I nodded, "Nice to meet you," I said as I stood up, "I guess I'll see you around?" I asked in the most nonchalant way considering she executed three people in the room before she met me, as though I wasn't scared of her. But, let's get this straight, I was terrified of her. In a way that made me excited to make my next move, I was scared.

Valeria, who's name somehow caused flutters to erupt from my heart and into my stomach, smirked at me, "I'll see you around, pájarita," she cooed before she dismissed me into the dark hallway where her other counterpart was. He was the opposite of her. Whilst he looked scary, he also looked like a dad with his bald head, goatee and slight pouch of stomach fat. In fact, he looked like my dad, in a weird way.

"Where too now, hermano?" I asked him, my palms slick with sweat as I walked down the hallway and towards the elevator I had descended in prior to my meeting with El Sin Nombre's personal Sicaria. She was beautiful. God, was I getting a crush on a woman who could easily kill me if she found out I was actually here for her boss? Who the fuck knows.

He pressed the up button, "We're going to the balcony, where you'll serve our guests," he didn't even bother to turn and face me, "I take it you know how to serve champagne?" he asked.

I laughed, "I'm not as stupid as I look," I remarked, though it was in bad taste. I didn't look stupid, because I wasn't. Sure, some subjects I was less academic in, but I was world smart, and that's all that matters in this line of work. No one cares if you can do math, or balance chemical formulas, as long as you know how to get what you want, you'll be unstoppable.

And I planned on exactly that.

---

When I had served at least twenty guests, and when the tray of complimentary Champagne was finished, I decided to wander. Not my smartest idea, I'll give you that, but I was bored. Laswell wanted me to gain intelligence before Soap decided to join the party, and I intended to do just that. No matter what, the mission always came first. What's the worst that could happen, right?

I walked through the stairwell, my eyes trained on the grand piano beneath the spiralled staircase, and all I wanted to do was sit down and play it. Of course, I didn't know how to play piano, but at least I'd have fun playing random notes until one of the guards kicked me out, that would be worth it.

Instead, I carried on my wandering, and made my way deeper into the fortress the Cartel called home. Hell, I was not disappointed. It was so lavish, the sculptures and the food looked so good. If I wasn't trying to squeeze into this dress already, I'd stuff my face with all the food imaginable.

As I continued on my journey, I stumbled upon a supply cupboard full of... cleaning supplies. How very boring. Bleach, bleach, more bleach, a mop, some candles, and then I saw it. The bracelet on the floor looked oddly familiar. It wasn't mine, of course. But it was Valeria's. Wherever she was now, I'd give it to her. But I didn't know where she was, and the compound was far too massive for me to want to give it to her, so I just placed it on a shelf.

And, as I opened the door, someone on the outside opened it. I tumbled forwards, my body unsteady in the dangerously high heels, and then she caught me, and lead me further into the supply cupboard. Past the shelves and the mops, past the sink (that I didn't even notice) and finally into the darkness.

"Fancy seeing you here," I said.

"You can't be seen in here," she said at the same time, her body pressed against mine as mine was flush to the wall. Her eyes never met mine as she kept a close eye on the door.

I cocked my head to the side, "Why not?" I asked her, curious as to why I, a member of their staff, couldn't be seen in a supply cupboard. It's just full of cleaning products, not like I'm going to make a bomb or anything.

She laughed a deep chuckle, one that made my knees weak, "You don't get it," she said patronisingly, "El Sin Nombre doesn't like when his girls go for walks," she purred, still pressed into me. Her thigh was pressing into my heat, and I had to restrain myself because God, she smelled so good and she was driving me crazy being this close.

"Well, what are you doing here, then?" I asked.

She knitted her brows together, "I'm hiding," she lied.

"From who?" I replied, only now at the realisation that my arm was wrapped around her.

Valeria moved her leg, the thigh painfully rutted against my core, "From El Sin Nombre," she said.

"And, what if you're El Sin Nombre?" I joked. She was in no way, shape, or form El Sin Nombre. No one knew who he was, and he was most definitely a he going of the name, surely it would be pronounced differently if Sin Nombre was a female? But that's going off my shit knowledge of Spanish. "What am I supposed to do then?"

She smirked, and withdrew slightly so that she wouldn't crush me, "I'd tie you up and show you how merciless I can be," her voice husked as she spoke through lust clouded eyes, and I was a goner. I knew that much. A Sicaria, a professional hit-woman, gaining a liking to me was not something I wanted to tell Laswell, or Soap, or anyone else who was due to storm the compound at whatever time. In fact, if I could keep it a secret until I died, I would. "Let you know how it feels to be powerless,"

"Who said I don't want that?" I whispered back, too afraid to even say the words myself.

Valeria looked impressed, "Well, I guess I'll have to keep you guessing, because I can assure you, little bird, that I am not Sin Nombre," she purred into my ear before she pressed a tender kiss into my pulse. The one place that would give me away as being completely enamoured with her despite having only seen or known her for... two hours?

"I guess so," I smirked, and allowed her to pull herself away from me before she exited the room before me. There goes my chance of sleeping with one of the most deadly women on the planet. All because I blew it and decided to run my mouth.

As I walked out, defeated, a guard stormed towards me, his mask covered his facial expression, but it didn't stop him from looking pissed off at something. If I didn't know better, I'd turn around and run for it, but that would make a scene, and everyone would think I'd done something wrong then. Which, I had, but that's a surprise tool that'll help me later. Or, kill me. Either way, I'm not bothered.

He said my name as his hand encased my arm, "We need to move," he said, and my first immediate thought was, what the fuck?

"Alejandro?" I asked as I tried to crane my neck to see into his mask, but it was no use whatsoever, "What the fuck? Why are you here?" I asked him. He didn't respond, only continued to drag me towards the stairs where the Grand Piano had sat. As we approached it, all I could smell was gunpowder and the metallic twinge of blood. This had happened a lot quicker than I expected it too.

He dragged me up the stairs, where a trail of dead bodies laid discarded, and he passed me a handgun, "Shoot to kill," he said, and suddenly I regretted wearing a dress, and I cursed the fucker who allowed this to happen as quick as it had done. Right when I was getting what I wanted, it just had to be snatched away because of some mission.

"What the fuck," I said, because I had no clue what happened this quick. I didn't know anything, in fact, I'd been so out of the loop that I had no clue as to who or what our target was, and I'd only been in here a few minutes, but it was enough to frustrate me. "Where's Soap?" I asked.

But, the one thought on my mind was really, where is Valeria? I didn't want her to die, whilst she was a Sicaria, and she should not be admired, I didn't want her to meet her demise through a Scottish bloke with a stolen handgun, that would just be too anticlimactic. Something told me, that if she'd decided to die tonight, it would be all out. She wouldn't go peacefully, and neither would I.

"Fuckin' Nora!" The familiar Scottish accent bellowed as he approached the pair of us, his eyes dark from the focus and the lack of light, "I got the key-card," he muttered, and held up the blood-splattered card as though it was something he'd caught fishing

My eyes narrowed, "Can someone just tell me what we're doing?"

Soap looked at me a little too generously, his eyes wandered to my body, "You look..."

"Like a hooker, I know," I interrupted, "Just tell me what's happening!" I urged as I fired blindly whilst simultaneously praying that no bullet hit Valeria, wherever she was.

Soap checked how many bullets he had left in his Magazine, "We know where Sin Nombre is, and we're going to get him," he urged, my eyes never left his as he spoke in such an animated manner. All I could think about was Valeria, of her joke where she'd said she was Sin Nombre, and God how I hoped I was wrong about it.

---

When we arrived at the penthouse, it was oddly silent. There were no guards in the halls, no security cameras, nothing. We were truly alone as we wandered across the balcony and towards the double doors which separated us from a meeting. I could hear talking, nothing distinguishable, but there was definitely people talking in the background. The sounds were reminiscent of an argument, though I knew no one was arguing.

"Get the snake," Alejandro suggested as Soap approached the door before he crouched down and dug into the bag the Mexican had thrown towards him, "See who's in there, we need positive ID on El Sin Nombre," he said.

I laughed, "You don't know who he is, none of us do," I said, my tone cynical as I spoke. I was fed up of not being able to get my way in this job, I wanted to spend more time here, that's the whole point of me being here. I infiltrate, I'm a double agent, and I'm fucking good at it... for the most part.

"Thank you, captain obvious," Soap tutted as he observed the camera, "Valeria," he seethed, but my heart rate only sped up. Whilst he seemed pissed, I was nervous of all the possibilities from being in close proximity to her again. I wanted nothing more than for her to pepper my body with kisses, but it's immoral considering she was about to be our prisoner. "I'm going in," he said as he stood up and kicked the door wide open.

Valeria wasted no time in her escape, in fact, she moved so fast that if I'd have blinked, she'd have been gone. In itself, it was impressive. But, in reality, it pissed me off. I wanted her to hand herself across to us like some prised possession.

Instead, I carried on running after her, my eyes never left the back of her bob as she sprinted towards the roof. From there, who knew what would happen? She'd get to the roof, escape and be free. And I'd chase her down, I'd look for her in the faces of strangers as they pass by, I'd believe every glimpse of her ghost was her indeed her.

"Valeria!" I yelled between ragged pants as I pushed myself further than I believed was possible, "Just stop - damnit!" I called as I followed her onto the windy balcony. Only it wasn't windy, it was being watched by a helicopter. A United States Marines helicopter.

Soap and Alejandro ran out after me, nearly instantly, and Valeria sank down to her knees, her eyes on me with a pure look of fucking betrayal. "I thought we had something, little bird," she seethed with rage.

"I'm sorry, Valeria," I said, my hands tucked behind my back as I stood over her, "But I have other uses for you."

"Just wait until I get you alone," she said, my name spat at me by venom as she growled, "You'll see what uses you have," she maintained her eye contact as Soap placed cuffs on her, the objects tightened around her wrists as she remained on her knees before me, "You'll see how I treat traitors," she hissed.

Now, I strongly doubted I'd let her get that from me, but I'd be lying if I didn't say the prospect of her getting her way with me would be something I didn't want. Because I wanted Valeria, even if it meant she'd ruin me.

I wanted her

[artificialqueens]

Voulez-Vous Coucher Avec Moi? (Gigi x Nicky) - Peridot

A/N: Y’all wanted domme Nicky and sub Gigi? You’re welcome.

This is a little lesbian one shot I wrote for the season 12 girls because I’m really enjoying them! I haven’t written a fic since December, so I’m sorry if I’m a little rusty! Also go easy on me, I don’t usually write smut and I only did the tiniest bit in this, so be gentle. Please leave me some feedback, I’d love to hear what you think of this! Also come say hi at my sideblog @artificialperidot, because I wanna make friends!

Summary: Gigi didn’t think anybody could make her sub. That was, until she met miss Nicky Doll.

Hope you enjoy!

The pair stumbled through the door of Nicky’s apartment, Nicky’s hands an iron grip on Gigi’s wrist, practically dragging the girl. The door shut with a click, and in a split second Gigi found herself shoved against it, boxed in by Nicky’s arms.

“Put your hands above your head, bitch.”

~

“There’s no way”

Gigi rolled her eyes and took a sip of her strawberry mocktail whilst the group around her snickered. She and her flatmates Heidi, Jackie and Jan were out for drinks at their local bar, sitting in a leather booth with some unrecognisable 90s beat playing over the speakers, barely audible over the chatter of people. It was their first night out in a long time, a celebration for Jackie’s new job offer in a weekly cabaret show. Gigi, however, wasn’t drinking with her friends - she knew how fast Heidi could get her drunk, and she was not about to have another crazy night, and was not about to let her friends get to that stage, either. The last one had been christened, “The milkshake incident” and Gigi had never quite lived it down. And she did not intend to have a repeat tonight.

But, as things often did when they had a girls night, the conversation quickly turned to sex.

“Oh come on, G,” Heidi exclaimed, “Are you saying no one in God’s universe could make you sub?”

“Highly doubt it.”

“Not even if you hadn’t had sex in years?”

“Nope.”

“Damn, I knew you were a control freak, but didn’t know you cared that much.” Jan quipped, received a chuckle from the group.

“Yeah, well, that and the fact that I don’t think anyone could turn me on enough for me to listen to them,” Gigi added. “Like, I’d have to be about to fucking explode before I’d let some bitch tell me what to do.”

“That sounds like a challenge,” said Jackie.

“What do you mean?”

“You think no one could turn you on that much?”

Gigi shrugged. “I don’t think so. Girls are hot, but no one’s that hot.”

Jackie raised an eyebrow. “Well, let’s make things interesting then. Let’s arrange a hook up for you. If we can find a bitch that’s hot enough to make you sub, then you’re buying our drinks next time.”

“Ooh bitch, I like the sound of that,” Heidi chirped.

Gigi scoffed. “And if I win?”

“Then… then we’ll never bring up the milkshake incident again.”

Gigi paused. Now that would be worth it. “Deal,” she said, reaching out a hand to shake Jackie’s across the table, to the excited squee of Jan and the ‘ooohs’ of Heidi. “This sounds amazing. I’m getting a free hookup out of this, and I get to dom. I can’t lose.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Miss Goode,” Jackie commented, tapping at her phone screen, which she kept hidden from Gigi. “I have some contacts.”

Jackie couldn’t keep the mischievous grin from her face. “Who did you have in mind?” Heidi asked her, leaning over her shoulder to look at her phone.

“Just a little friend of mine, from back in New York.”

“Girl, if it’s who I’m thinking of, Miss Gigi doesn’t stand a chance!” Jan added.

Jackie smiled mischievously at Jan, giving her a knowing look, before leaning over and whispering something indecipherable into Heidi’s ear, which sent her reeling. “No way! Oh, this bitch stands no chance!” she exclaimed, a little too loudly for Gigi’s liking. “Drinks for us next Saturday bitches!”

Jan laughed, and Gigi rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t be too confident. I can be intimidating when I wanna be.”

“Do you wanna be intimidating all the time then? Cause you are a scary bitch,” Heidi added, receiving a giggle from the group. “Seriously I’d still be frightened of you if I hadn’t seen the milkshake incident go down with my own eyes.”

The girls began cackling with laughter, and to save her embarrassment, Gigi laughed along too.

At least after tonight she’d never have to hear about it again.

This should be easy.

~

After about an hour or so of cocktails and a trip to the dance floor (where Heidi decided to give everyone in the bar some dance lessons, whether they were willing or not), Jackie disappeared and returned with a woman following along behind her.

“Gigi, there’s a little someone I want you to meet,” Jackie grinned. “This is Nicky. Nicky Doll.”

Jackie stepped to the side, and forward walked a woman. A woman who looked as if she was straight from the covers of vogue.

Gigi couldn’t deny that the woman standing in front of her was beautiful. Fuck, she may have just been one of the most gorgeous women she’d ever seen. Long blonde hair, dark features, and a body to die for. She wore a tight red mini dress that showed off her perfect curves and tiny waist, with a leather jacket thrown over her shoulders, embroidered with roses. She exuded sultriness, in the sort of way that made you certain that she knew just how sexy she was. Her bedroom eyes looked Gigi up and down like a predator surveying its prey, and a smile formed from her pursed lips.

Fuck.

She’s good.

Well, two can play at that game.

Gigi strutted over to the woman, swaying her hips, and slowly reached out a hand for her to shake. “Good evening, Nicky.”

The stranger raised an eyebrow and took her hand, gripping it firmly. “Nice to meet you, darling,” she drawled, her tone exuding confidence. “You want me to top her, Jackie? Shouldn’t be a problem.”

It was then that Gigi picked up on her accent, and her heart jumped a little. It took her a second to distinguish it, but after years of french class in high school, her ear was attuned to the pronunciation.

French. Fucking French?

Somehow it made her ten times hotter.

But, Gigi wasn’t about to back down yet.

“It might be a problem, seeing I’m head and shoulders taller than you,” she quipped, quirking an eyebrow and lifting her chin.

“At least I’m not a skinny little bitch,” Nicky quickly shot back, taking Gigi off guard. “She looks like one of those inflatable car advertisements, you know, the one with the flailing arms.”

The group began to laugh, including Gigi, trying desperately to brush off the joke and not show a crack in her armour. The little jolt in her chest when Nicky looked at her didn’t help make matters any easier.

Of course Jackie just happened to know this gorgeous French supermodel who was just as intimidating as Gigi, maybe even more so. This bet wasn’t going to be as easy as it seemed.

Either way, she was so fucking glad she was going to fuck this bitch tonight.

The sound of Jackie’s voice shook Gigi out of her daydream. “So guys, are you still willing to go home together tonight?”

“Oh, yeah, absolutely. She’s really hot,” Gigi said, in her sexiest voice. “Can’t wait to see her on her knees.”

Nicky didn’t flinch at Gigi’s last sentiment. She simply raised an eyebrow, as if to say are you kidding?

Gigi would be lying if she said that it didn’t turn her on. Slightly.

“Well, Nicky?” Jackie prompted.

“Eh, she’s not bad looking herself.” Nicky shot Gigi a smirk. “I’m up for it.”

“Great,” Jackie said with a clap of her hands. “The bet’s on! Now, who’s for another round of drinks? On me!”

The sentence was met by whoops and cheers from Jan and Heidi, and the girls slunk their way through the crowd towards the bar, Gigi and Nicky following after them.

Gigi felt an arm slide around hers, interlocking them, and felt a voice by her ear.

“Darling, I’m just checking you’re staying sober for tonight?” Nicky said in a hushed tone. The breath on Gigi’s skin made her shudder just a bit.

“Of course,” she replied with mock confidence. “I wouldn’t be comfortable any other way.”

“Good,” Nicky replied. “And, I want to check that no matter what goes down tonight, you're ok with it? Like, if you don’t top you are still comfortable.”

Gigi smiled. It was cute that she checked. “I’m comfortable with whatever goes down, though that shouldn’t be a problem for me anyway.”

“Good,” Nicky said matter-of-factly, before slipping her arm out from its entwinement with Gigi’s and starting to walk ahead of her to catch up with the group. She stopped after a second though, turning her head back to Gigi and waiting for her to catch up. She leant into her, her voice even more low and hushed than before.

“And don’t get too confident, baby. It’s not cute,” she said, giving Gigi a tap on the ass, before walking ahead of her again as if nothing had happened.

It wasn’t enough to hurt - it was barely enough for Gigi to even feel it. But it made her stop in her tracks, rendered immovable.

Gigi gulped. She didn’t know if it was possible for a human heartbeat to exceed 100 miles per hour, but she was sure that hers had gotten pretty close.

Shit.

~

Gigi wasn’t sure if it was the pounding of the music through the speakers, or the pounding of her heart that made her feel lightheaded, but after a while she needed to sit down. Not wanting to bother her friends, who were busy laughing and dancing and spilling their cocktails all over the dance floor, she left their group and made her way over to a booth at the side of the room, resting her elbows on the table. She squeezed her eyes shut. It didn’t make the loud beat or the flashing strobe lights go away, but at least it stopped her head spinning a little.

After all, the thoughts swimming in her brain were enough for her head to deal with.

All she could think about was Nicky.

Before long, she felt someone slide into the booth beside her, a hand moving to rest on the small of her back.

She didn’t need to open her eyes to guess who it was.

“Are you alright, my darling?” a thick french accent murmured.

Gigi opened her eyes to face the girl beside her, whose eyes were wide with concern.

“I’m okay Nicky, thanks. Just felt a little lightheaded, that’s all.”

Nicky flashed her a caring smile. “It’s okay Gigi. You can rest your head on me if you need to, that might help.” Gigi smiled gratefully at her, before laying her head on the shorter girl’s shoulder. Nicky began rubbing her back in small circles, comforting her. “Do you need any water?”

“I’m okay, thanks. I’m starting to feel better already.”

“I’m glad.”

They stayed like that for a few moments, Nicky soothing Gigi, and Gigi trying to conceal her inner panic. She’d never met someone like Nicky before. Never. No one had ever turned her on as fast, for a start. And, she seemed to genuinely care about her, and they’d only just met for Christ sake.

Let’s just say, Gigi was pretty excited to go home with her tonight. She was even more excited to see her again after tonight, though. On a date.

That is, if she plucked up the courage to ask her.

She’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

Nicky began stroking Gigi’s hair, softly and gently, being careful not to mess it up, and Gigi melted into the touch. “You okay down there?”

“Hm? Oh yeah, I’m fine. Just wanted to stay like this for a little while.”

“That’s okay. I like it too, ma crevette.”

Gigi’s eyes blinked open with confusion. “What does that mean?”

Nicky paused and smiled. “You’ll laugh.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a term of endearment in french, sort of like ‘my darling’,” she started, “but the literal translation is ‘my shrimp.’

The two girls began silently laughing to each other, like two school girls giggling over a secret. “You’re joking!”

“I’m serious! French is weird when you put it into English.”

“I used to study french, you know. Back in high school.”

Nicky looked impressed. “Really?”

“Yeah, but I can barely remember any of it. It was the only class I consistently failed,” she laughed. “That and basic math.”

“Speak some french for me Gigi. I’ll be the judge of that.”

Gigi racked her brain, trying to come up with something more interesting than ‘bonjour’ or ‘je m’appelle Gigi’, when she remembered a little song from ‘Moulin Rouge’ that she thought would fit the bill perfectly.

“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?”

Their little booth erupted into fits of giggles, Nicky barely able to comprehend her choice of phrase. Gigi watched closely, loving the way her nose screwed up when she laughed, and the toothy grin that took over her face.

Gigi didn’t know it was possible to be sexy and adorable, but she’d been proven wrong.

“Someone’s seen ‘Moulin Rouge’,” Nicky laughed.

“Well? Is that a yes? Oui or non?” Gigi persisted, leaning her shoulder into Nicky’s side.

Nicky shook her head and rolled her eyes with a sense of disbelief, but she didn’t try and stop the smile from creeping over her lips.

“Oui, my darling,” she laughed, before planting a kiss on Gigi’s cheek. “But, just because I’m being nice now doesn’t mean I’ll be nice later when I’m punishing you.”

Gigi felt a pang in her chest, and bit the inside of her lip, despite her ambivalence. She was embarrassed of the way it turned her on. The thought of Nicky doing what she wants to her, having her way with her, was so sexy.

But the thought of Nicky down on her knees for her, was a pretty tempting thought too. So, she concealed the way her heart leapt out of her chest by raising an eyebrow, hoping her dark features and intimidating aura would have the same effect on Nicky as she had on her.

“Bold of you to assume you won’t be the one getting punished,” Gigi said, glaring into Nicky’s eyes and hoping she matched Nicky’s ice-cold stare.

Nicky scoffed, an evil smirk forming on her pursed lips. “Oh please. Tell that to the girl who was lying on my shoulder 5 minutes ago, letting me pet her and stroke her hair. Or the girl who let me spank her earlier with no retaliation,” she started, her predator gaze burning into Gigi’s skin, making her want to squirm. “Face it, you’ve been practically begging for me to top you all night. You’re so pathetically desperate for it.”

Fuck.

Gigi’s breath quickened, the rise and fall of her chest matching the speed of her frantic heartbeat, sending adrenaline all around her body, electricity shooting down her legs and arms to the tips of her fingers.

Nicky saw that Gigi’s mask was slipping, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Gigi wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline or her anger that made her primal instincts kick in, but suddenly she was on top of Nicky, attacking her in a kiss. She used her height to her advantage, leaning over the smaller kiss and cupping her face, as she kissed her with a passion and strength that she wasn’t sure she still had in her.

The kiss was messy, all teeth and tongues, mostly because Gigi was overcome with desire and desperation and a strength of emotion she’d never felt before.

As for Nicky, she kissed back with more precision, but fuelled by the same fire that drove Gigi. She clutched Gigi’s wrist as she kissed her, so hard that Gigi was sure there would be finger-shaped bruises there tomorrow. Her movements were more controlled, as if she was set upon taking Gigi apart with ease and leisure, not allowing the other’s frantic movements to make her lose her cool.

When they pulled apart for air, Gigi wasn’t quite sure who’d won in their battle for dominance.

Before she could say another word, Nicky leaned up, so that the two were drawn level with each other, their noses practically touching as they stared into each other’s eyes with animalistic lust. “Someone’s touchy,” Nicky said with a cocky smirk. “Was that a little too close for comfort, darling?”

Gigi didn’t respond. She didn’t know how to respond, now that Nicky could see through her facade. Instead she simply bit the inside of her lip and broke the eye contact, too ashamed of her feelings to look Nicky in the eyes.

Her fucking beautiful eyes.

Nicky reached a hand up to Gigi’s face, delicately tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear, before holding up her chin to face her. “Asked you a question, baby.”

Gigi felt a hand slide around her waist, pulling her in closer. Looking at the woman in front of her, Gigi was sure she’d never wanted someone as much in her life. She was so embarrassed, so ashamed that she was so turned on, and somehow it fuelled the emotion and made it even stronger.

She didn’t give a shit about who topped anymore. She just needed Nicky.

“Fuck the bet.”

Nicky smiled, tapping her nose. “That’s what I like to hear, baby. Call us a taxi. If you can still talk, that is.”

~

The taxi ride felt like the longest ride of her life. The only thing that kept Gigi tethered to reality was Nicky’s hand clutching hers tightly. But it couldn’t distract her from the aching need between her legs, and the quickening of her breath, which verged on hyperventilation at this point.

They sat in silence for a while, Gigi too consumed by her own thoughts, and Nicky having played the ‘I don’t speak much English’ to avoid awkward small talk with the taxi driver. The silence was broken, however, when Nicky leaned in and started placing butterfly kisses all over Gigi’s neck, feather-light. Gigi couldn’t help but melt into the touch, closing her eyes tight and imagining that they were anywhere but stuck inside a taxi, seatbelts holding them firmly in place. Gigi enveloped her in another frantic kiss, all teeth and tongues, and Nicky bit the other girl’s lower lip, reclaiming her dominance and causing Gigi to inhale sharply.

Before she knew it she was palming at Nicky’s chest over her red dress, longing for some sort of contact, and Nicky was sucking a precise mark onto Gigi’s neck that left her writhing. It caused a whine to escape from Gigi’s lips, a desperate, needy whine that made Nicky swear under her breath, and without a second for Gigi to comprehend what was happening, a hand was clamped firmly over her mouth.

It was animalistic, really, the way they clutched at each other. The bet was long forgotten in Gigi’s mind. She had never felt so strongly about another woman, never wanted anyone like this before. She was usually the one in control, the one who had made countless other girls writhe beneath her in the past.

Oh how the tables had turned.

When the taxi pulled up slowly at a red light, the two were so enamoured with each other to notice the driver, glaring at them from the rear view window.

“Ahem.”

Startled by the noise, the girls pulled themselves off each other in surprise and embarrassment, sitting up straight like they'd been caught cheating on a test. The cab driver shot each of them a dirty look from the mirror, making Gigi wonder if he was homophobic or one of those uptight straight guys that doesn’t like anyone messing up their car. Either way, that typically wasn’t the type of person Gigi liked.

Nicky shot him an affronted look in the mirror, eyes wide with disbelief, as if to say how dare he. “Do you need some medicine for that cough?” she said in her most sarcastic tone. “Or, uh, how you say….. some manners?”

The driver was silent.

Gigi was proud that they managed to sit in silence for about thirty seconds. But the moment Nicky made eye contact with her, the two erupted into fits of uncontrollable laughter, giggling like schoolchildren and trying to suppress their amusement with whispered pleas of ‘shhh!’ and ‘shut up!’ that were of no avail.

Needless to say, if the driver didn’t like them before that, he certainly didn’t like them now.

Between laughs, Nicky called out a ‘here’s fine’ to the driver, who was very excited to see the back of the pair of laughing hyenas from his car. Nicky tossed him a couple of bills, before pulling Gigi out of the car by her wrists, the two still unable to suppress their laughter.

They stumbled down the street as if they were both drunk, falling over each other and cackling, too caught up in their happiness to feel the cold chill on their skin.

It almost distracted Gigi from the need between her legs.

Almost.

“My apartment is a couple blocks away, but I couldn’t sit in that cab any longer,” Nicky chuckled. “A walk won’t do us any harm, anyway.”

Gigi smiled, her gaze lingering over Nicky’s for a little too long. “Babe, you’re fucking amazing, you know that?”

Nicky cocked her head to the side, bemused. “And what makes you say that?”

“I don’t know. It’s like I’ve known you for years. You’re so fun. And so nice,” she started, grabbing onto Nicky’s arm. “And simultaneously a complete bitch.”

Nicky smirked. “I thought you were being nice for a second, but I’ll take it.”

“Bitch, you knew exactly what you were doing to me at the bar. You can’t tell me that wasn’t a dick move.”

“You liked it though.”

Gigi laughed, biting her lip slightly. “Hate to admit it.”

Nicky looked amused. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed, darling.”

“You’re cute all the time. Drop dead fucking gorgeous, actually.”

“You’re one to talk, pretty girl.”

Gigi would be lying if she didn’t feel herself blush a little at that.

“So, about tonight… do you still want me to top? Because if you’re not comfortable we can-“

“No! No, no, I want you to top. Please.”

“Are you sure darling? Because if you want-“

“I’m sure. I don’t think I could top you if I tried.”

Nicky laughed to herself. “Aw, she finally admits it at last.”

“Fuck you,” Gigi whined, hitting Nicky playfully on the arm.

Nicky raised her eyebrows, a stern expression creeping onto her face. “None of that language baby. I wanna make you feel really good, darling, but I can only do that if you’re a good girl for me, okay?”

Gigi felt a lump in her throat. “I’ll try. I’ve never done this before though. Subbed.”

“That’s okay, angel, we don’t have to go too far.” Nicky smiled reassuringly at the girl. “But I know what I’m doing. I know how to make you feel really really good, so I need you to trust me, okay?”

Gigi wasn’t sure why, but she did.

~

“Put your hands above your head, bitch.”

“You get into character quickly, don’t you?” Gigi remarked, staring directly into Nicky’s eyes, which were centimetres from her face. She felt the weight of Nicky’s hips pressing harder into hers, forcing her against the hard wood of the apartment door.

“Don’t be cocky, baby. I already told you it’s not a good look,” Nicky replied, grabbing Gigi’s wrists and holding them above her head herself.

Nicky’s pupils were blown wide, and they scanned the face of the girl before her with an intimate precision that Gigi had never witnessed before. Gigi smirked. She liked this new side to Nicky, this dominant persona who seemed set upon making her unravel.

But of course, Gigi wasn’t about to make things easy for her.

With that, she leaned forward and planted another kiss on Nicky’s parted lips, her tongue sliding into her mouth and her eyes closing shut, transfixed by the softness that she buried herself into.

The kiss was short-lived, however, when Nicky pulled away sharply, one arm pushing Gigi back against the door. Her head bumped against it lightly, and a stern gaze took over Nicky’s features, a mixture of anger and lust. “Thought you were going to be a good girl for me, angel,” she said, tucking a strand of Gigi’s hair behind her ear. “Good girls don’t touch without permission.”

“I can’t help it. You just look so good,” Gigi husked, biting her lip sensually, and Nicky let out a shattered breath, Gigi’s dilated pupils meeting her own.

Nicky slid her knee in between Gigi’s thighs. “If you don’t start behaving, we’re going to have a problem.”

“What’re you gonna do about it?”

In one swift motion, Nicky pulled Gigi forward by her wrists, landing a slap on her ass over her black dress. “Bedroom. Now.”

~

The night was a blur of silk bed sheets and passion. The smell of sweat and sex was in the air, the cool breeze from the open window mingling with the heat on their skin. The marks of ropes around Gigi’s wrists and scratches on her skin and love-bites on her neck were still there the next day. And, so was Nicky, to Gigi’s surprise.

Gigi was the first to awaken of the two the next morning. The New York skyline was illuminated by the golden sunrise that seeped through the silk curtains. The plump pillow that Gigi’s head was buried in was soft against her bare skin, and she propped it up against the bed frame, sitting up a little as she stretched and yawned, hands rubbing her eyes. The cold morning air hit her shoulders as she made herself comfortable.

She found herself with only the littlest portion of blanket keeping her decent - the rest was wrapped around Nicky like a sleeping bag, and she curled it up in her arms like she was cuddling a toy.

She presumed that the duvet was her replacement for Gigi when she had rolled over.

Gigi looked down at the woman beside her, laying on her side, her face a picture of peacefulness. Her blonde hair was spread out on the pillow around her head like a halo, and even the remnants of mascara and eyeliner around her eyes didn’t distract from the purity of her features. Her mouth was open just a little, and soft breaths escaped her lips as her chest rose and fell like a metronome.

She was beautiful.

Gigi was extremely glad that she had let her stay the night at her apartment. To be honest, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to make it home after the night she had.

Looking at Nicky fast asleep, Gigi would have never believed that it was the same woman from last night.

But, she was glad that it was. She liked that Nicky could be sexy and dominant, and then immediately switch back to being caring and sweet.

The sentiment was true last night, with Nicky offering Gigi all the cuddles and kisses she could as they drifted to sleep. Gigi remembered falling asleep to Nicky aimlessly stroking her hair, whispering something french in her ear.

And god did Gigi need that.

The night was the hottest in Gigi’s life. Nicky had tied her to the bedposts, and made her beg for her to eat her out. When she finished, Gigi found herself doing the same for Nicky, her head being roughly thrust between her legs. And then she was being fingered, and the cycle continued until she’d come more times than she could remember.

It was dirty and humiliating, but god it was hot.

The best part though, was that she got to know Nicky some more. She was surprisingly such a sweetheart, taking such good care of Gigi after they played. Gigi didn’t think anyone could make her want to sub, but she especially didn't expect it to be someone who was really kind.

Trust Jackie to know the perfect woman.

It was then that Gigi remembered the bet.

Shit.

She knew that even if she didn’t admit that she subbed, her friends would find out one way or another. Drinks were on her this weekend. Good thing she’d saved a little money. She guessed she’d be hearing about the milkshake incident for a little while longer, too.

That was ok, she supposed. After the night she’d had with Nicky, it was worth the embarrassment.

Besides, without the bet she would’ve never met Nicky.

She looked down at the still sleeping girl, her nose scrunched and her brows furrowed. She was adorable.

Gigi was definitely going to ask her out on a date.

Maybe they could go get some milkshakes together.

[lemonietrinket]

Muse’s Memories ||| Jae x Reader

Summary: You believe you have a crush on YoungK, Jae has a mega-crush on you. Moping ensues. Genre: Angst, humour, some fluff, happy ending Warning(s): Jae is melancholic and melodramatic, but that’s it Word Count: 2334 i lost 2k words are you kidding m-- Song(s): Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby - Cigarettes After Sex AN: sorry it took a bit of time anon, i wrote a big chunk of it and then scrapped it entirely and started again, and then lost all of it to my laptop shutting down.  its been a long time coming so i hope it was worth the wait :((

~~~

The guitar strings were rough at Jae’s fingertips. They dug deep like thin strips of wrought iron, scraping at the skin as he ran them across the board, waiting for them to inspire him. Pressing his fingers by the frets hard enough to dent, he had been perched upon his stool, acoustic guitar in his embrace, for well over an hour.

A numb sigh fell from his lips and he curled in on himself, forehead knocking against the varnished body as his arm fell emptily away. His breath came out staggered, and at the first sign of the crumple of his lips, he straightened his back and stared into the bushes right outside the practice room window.

“I think I have a crush on Younghyun,” you had mused to him one afternoon, between sips of coffee and the chatter of the room. It had been at the beginning of term, when the sun was tinged with frost in the early mornings, sat inside the small milkshake place you always visited before your Wednesday classes, just the two of you. He avoided the place now whenever he could.

Despite the long weeks that had passed since then, the words caught up with him in the moments of silence, when he could hear how it was banished for others. Now, the suffocating quiet twisted at his throat, whilst next door came the sounds of cheers—friends discussing dream projects and futures they believed in, a young singer coming to the end of her solo practice to be received with astounded compliments from those at her side.

Hand heavy, he moved once again to strum a chord, to banish the silence and relieve himself of the thoughts that intruded. His fingers rose, then fell, and no sound followed. His fist hung lifeless at the guitar’s side.

The truth was, Jae he hadn’t gotten over you. Far from it.  Not when his roommate told him, not when he heard it from your very lips himself. Because there was no escaping it. No matter where he went, there were reminders of you. In the street corner player’s melody, in the loud stereo of the passing cars. When he tried to spend more time apart from the two of you, it was as if you were following him, and the only explanation he could procure was that you were waiting for Younghyun every time. If he was with him, then lo and behold there you were too. If it was just supposed to be you and Jae, he would arrive and find an extra chair already pulled up. It was as if the world wanted to rub salt in the wound.

And so there was no way for his eyes not to catch how whenever Younghyun turned up you smiled, how whenever he added a comment to his joke you laughed, just as freely as you did with him. Even though you confided in everything with him, he could only ever think of how much it must have paled in comparison to how Younghyun must make you feel. Of all the people you would have a crush on, it had to be his second best friend.

But you were his first, and so he sucked it up. He answered all the questions you wanted to know about him, gave the best advice he could, all the encouragement he could muster. It was the right thing to do after all, and he supposed that if he could’t make you happy, then at least the person he would next suggest would be able to instead.  

“He doesn’t like this place.”

“What? So what does he like then?”

“Bars, restaurants. Fancy ones, you know the sort. The old-timer lounge at the very top of the mall?” 

He couldn’t forget how your voice lilted into incredulous snickers. “What poor taste he has.”

“He’s more of a classic romantic,” Jae had defended, words flowing despite the cuts they seemed to embed in his tongue, “he’ll treat you well, Y/N.”

“You’re talking as if he’s already asked me out.”

He might as well have done.

Jae rubbed his temples roughly, wishing the ache would dissipate alongside the memories seemingly tacked to it. That was when the guitar slipped down his thighs, and disconnected from his body, he rushed to catch it. The wood felt too big in his hands, the edge pressing hard against the lines of his skin, but his mind was too busy caught up elsewhere to care. 

His finger had caught the E string, sending a quiet hum through the practice room, and straight to his heart. The weight lifted from his palms in that moment, as the image of you lifted the instrument into your lap. He could almost see you before him, sat upon the stool that he couldn’t remember pulling up, across from his knees. 

You were perched clear as day, clutching at his guitar. It was too big for you, your arm too short to embrace the wooden body snugly, and your grip was all wrong, pressing the frets too lightly and leaving the strings to squeak, but you didn’t care one bit. You were aglow; your grin was bright, your humming effortless, while your fingertips traced along the strings, as if greeting an old friend. You knew nothing of course, and it showed as you played around with the notes you could find from the stickers upon the fretboard. 

Your eyes had been alight in a playful awe at the sounds you made with literally no knowledge at all. It had been so similar yet so different to the amazement that you had given Younghyun when he mentioned he played the bass. 

Jae couldn’t help but wonder just how happy you would look strumming at the bass guitar. It was indulgent to a downward spiral but he couldn’t help it—the two pictures were barely separable anymore. Knowing his friend, he was so much more confident than he was. He would correct your grip, gently rest his chest to your back and raise his fingers to meet yours, gently entwine them so he could teach you how to strum, until you were truly making music, together...

It stung. Just like it did every other time he pictured it. Because he’d had some many more opportunities to do the same with you, but he hadn’t taken them. Just as he’d had all that time to confess, but didn’t. Whenever you asked if he was interested in anyone, he shrugged it off, biting in his nerves as best he could to change the subject. Just like how he did nothing but watch you play, with a stupid smile on his face, laughing when you did at the flat twang of an E string.

The guitar fell heavy in his palms once again, and he was reminded of the song left half finished that you had inspired. He’d started it in an effort to capture the memory, capture the sounds, to remove them from his head but to keep them safe. So he could reach a state of peace. But it hadn’t worked, and you stayed with him. It should have been no surprise really—how could he write about his muse to escape the problems that the muse had unfortunately caused.  It was as if the world was stopping him for some reason, one that he couldn’t discern, and so he was left at a loss for what to do. 

At that moment, the light of the room dimmed. 

Bringing his eyes back into focus from where they had sat staring unintelligibly at the wall, he blinked against the discomfort to find a silhouette in the window. Their head was low by the pane, curbed by no hood as their hand waved behind the specks of water upon the glass. You.

Barely comprehending what he was seeing, and still uneasily not trusting his senses much at all going by how out of reality he had been just moments before, his body moved surprisingly quickly of its own volition. Propping up his guitar at the side of the stool opposite, he ambled over to the window. 

With your hair wrung and bejewelled with droplets of rain, cheeks mottled with blush from the wind and a small and sweet smile upon your lips, he would have been at a loss for words for sure if he hadn’t been already. Nevertheless, he was beginning to ease back into the swing of reality, when your mouth parted in a way he was all too familiar with. Even though he couldn’t hear you, he knew you were calling his name.

Yanking the window open as far as it would go, he remained silent as the wind pierced through the open gap, pluming into the tepid warmth of the room behind.

“Hi, Jae,” you greeted. Your voice was unusually quiet, mottled by the rain, but regardless was music to his ears. 

“Y-Y/N, hey,” he cleared his throat, hoping you weren’t paying too much attention to how dry he sounded, “what are you doing out here, it’s cold, you should come inside—”

“You know I can’t open that old door,” you chuckled, eyes glancing off to where the entrance to the music block vaguely sat. “Anyway, I’m fine, don’t worry.”

He knew he should have pressed the matter further, but between the murk of his swirling thoughts, he could barely comprehend a thing, and so ended up running with the first piece of clarity they choked up. And this of course, true to character, came in the form of a memory. 

Peering at your empty fingers, tucked beneath the sleeves of an old jacket too thin to protect you from the weather, he began, “Hey... why aren’t you with Younghyun? Where are the flowers...? Like... you said, you were going to give him those flowers... to... turn the tables...”

The words poured off his tongue and he couldn’t stop them no matter how much he wished he could. However, what struck him more confused was the reaction that followed.

“I binned them.”

“What?!” he’d exclaimed, senses returning to his fingers in the face of the cold.

“I binned them,” you reiterated, “because the guy I should really give them to doesn’t like them.”

“But... Younghyun likes roses! I’m sure of it! And... and I’m sure he wouldn’t have an issue with receiving them for a change. Like, it would be—”

Your eyes failed to meet his, and instead appeared much more entranced with the way the rain spilled off the leaves of the bushes by your legs. You sighed, in preparation to take a deep breath, before answering, “He doesn’t like them because... one, allergies. And two, allergies.”

Jae’s head was a mess and with a strange sensation of pins and needles slowly spiralling up his hands that were pressed into the windowsill ledge, he ended up not responding, in an effort to finally decipher what had just unravelled before him.

Readjusting your fingers beneath your sweater paws, after the moments of silence, you drew your head up at last cautiously, dreading what you would find. It turned out that you had no reason to worry. The poor victim of your mistake was stood dumbfounded and dead still, plush lips agape while his dark eyes blinked rapidly at you,in the face of confusion and the wind. Had this been a more lighthearted matter you would have called him cute. 

You explained, in an attempt to help him to process the information before him. “I’m sorry I’m such an idiot, Jae,” you said, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you watched the light frown trickle onto his features, “I... I pavlov-ed myself. Please forgive me.” 

Still, he remained quiet the realisation sinking in. He had been wrong, so painstakingly, utterly wrong, and he was beginning to notice he didn’t care a single bit.

“I got my feelings mixed up and... well I was always happy around Younghyun, and always felt excited to see him so I just... figured it was him that made me excited,” you continued, “not that... I was actually excited to see you, and that he was usually a precursor to you... uh...”

Everything clicked into place for Jae, and with his reactions seemingly on a delay, he finally spoke up. “You... pavlov-ed... yourself?”

Meeting his gaze at last, you offered him a nervous and guilt-ridden smile. “Yeah.”

The wind whistled through the window, as the rain eased for a few seconds. And then came the burst of laughter. 

It began slow. First, the corners of his lips twitched, and subsequently upturned. A small disjointed flow of giggles followed, next chuckles, until, finally, Jae cackled.

The two of you erupted into sheer guffawing at the state the two of you had been in. Jae shoulder’s relaxed as he leant away from the window, while the cold seemed to leave your bones. You wiped at your eyes, whether it was rain that was clouding them or tears of happiness or relief you had no way of knowing. Instead you relished in the moment, and the sight of your actual crush in fits of laughter. He was too cute after all. Jae meanwhile couldn’t believe his ears, nor just how quickly the melancholy left his system. 

Some would argue that he should have been more annoyed, but there was no way that he could have been. Not at you, his muse. Besides, he had to take partial blame, all that distancing from you after picking his narrative and choosing to only listen to evidence that agreed with it left him appearing vacant and disinterested.

Still, it wasn’t like he would let you forget this, in all playful tones of teasing. This was in fact, a memory worth keeping.  As long as he forgot the moping that came before it, which he was sure he would be able to do. 

“Jae can I come inside now, it’s getting real cold out here.”

“Oh, yeah, of course, uh—sorry, hang on—”

~~~

an: i hate how melodramatic this is. and i dont like the ending, but having the fluffy kiss thing doesnt really fit the vibe imo. even though i hoped it would. i will give yall a window kiss thing at some point i promise. maybe the san x reader royalty au oooh now thats an idea

Masterlist

[malereader-inserts]

Bloodsport

Fandom: Gotham Pairing: Oswald Cobblepot x Male!Reader Summary: If I fall short, if I break rank It's a bloodsport, but I understand, I am all yours, I am unmanned. I'm on all fours, willingly damned. Word Count: 2,079 Request: “for a Gotham request: finally confessing to Oswald for the first time after working close to him for a while, maybe victor encouraging the reader on to do so because he's watched him swoon over the crimelord for a while.” A?n: I wrote this the night before because I’m not currently drunk af as I post this so enjoyyyyyyy

You sat on the bar stool, your elbows leaning against the bar with the right hand holding a glass of whiskey and the other hand resting against your upper right arm. You stare at the rack of alcoholic beverages against the wall, sitting in the empty Iceberg Club. You sighed as you gently placed your glass down and ran that hand through your hair.

Your hands rested against the bar, you’ve been quiet for the past few days.

Oswald had noticed your sudden standoffish behaviour, truth be told he was getting exhausted with your longing sighs and tired looks. He just couldn’t put a finger what has caused you to feel so moody. 

So, somehow, he was not surprised to see you moping around at the bar. 

He chuckles to himself, limping his way towards you, carefully trying not to bang his cane against the floor as he silently sits next to you. You give him a side eye before turning to look down at your drink, PIcking up the glass and taking a sip. 

“Hello, friend.”

Friend, how much that word had disgraced you. The reason why you’ve been mopy is the fact that you were trying to get rid of your growing crush on your friend. The man you’ve been working with for so long, the man who had promoted you to be is second in command. 

Victor teases you, the way you silently admire Oswald in his little outburst and rants. Victor points out your loving eyes and longing stares at Oswald. Your compliments that seem way to invasive but flies over Oswald’s head (truth be told he wasn’t that tall so most of the things you say go over his head.)

You grunted in response, tipping your glass at his direction before gulping down the last of your drink.

“You’re not going to leave now, are you?” Oswald asked, his lips thinning, annoyed that you weren’t responding in the way he wanted.

You cast a glance, you hold it for a moment before flickering back to the neon lights. Sighing, you lean over the bar, grabbing another glass for Oswald and a fresh unopen bottle of whiskey. 

He watches you twist the cap and pouring in each glass before placing the bottle between you and Oswald, not one moment you had spoken to him. 

The more you try to distance yourself from Oswald, he just kept coming. You were a pathetic idiot pining over him, whilst he sends heart eyes to Ed Nygma you did the same with him.

Truth be told, you loved him. Although he isn’t perfect, as nothing can be, his imperfections don’t detract from how much you love him. In fact, you love him so much that you are willing to wait through anything negative to be able to love him.

Only Victor could see how progressively bad your pining became. 

Oswald watches you down another glass and as you were about to tip the bottle for another glass. Oswald grabs your wrist, you looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“(Y/n),” Oswald’s tone was deep as you stared at him silently.

He had not noticed how your eyes wandered to admire his face, how your face became very hot that Oswald was gripping your wrist. He hadn’t noticed how you got distracted almost immediately.

“You’re going to drink yourself dead.”

“It’s only my fourth glass,” You mumbled as you put down the bottle, “What do you want?”

“Not hostility,” Oswald snaps at you, “What’s got you like this, I can’t even remember when’s the last time you smiled.”

Three weeks ago, Oswald counted the days. He, too, was pining for you. Victor had been scoffing himself into a sore throat as he was witnessing you two pine for each other. Oswald had always valued your opinion, always asked for your input even it was minuscule. 

Oswald had been giving you the same longing stares, even tried to confess to his feels for you but you had to dash out in cleaning up a mess in one of the districts before the GCPD caught on. You hadn’t even noticed how Oswald loved walking by your side, he felt safer by you and he loved seeing how much taller you were compared to him.

He was only 5″8 and you were taller, he wondered how he could perfectly fit into your arms, your chin on top of his head as you bring him close to you. 

Your love for each other was a bloodsport. 

Unknownst to each other how you would endlessly do things for them, how you both would shed blood on Gotham’s ground. You were willing to stain your hands red for him if he asked. He was willing to put a bullet in someone’s head if you just said the word.

Oswald was selfish, he could never love someone - Ed said it himself.

“None of your business,” You grumbled as you refuse to look at him, before getting violently turned around as Oswald grips your shoulder to spin your bar stool to face him.

“You’re being an ass,” Oswald seethes, “Get over whatever, you’re being childish and I don’t need your moodiness effecting me.”

“I’ll try, Oswald,” You sarcastically commented as Oswald tensed his jaw, you had to stop yourself from looking embarrassed.

Suddenly your phone started to buzz, you retrieve it out of your inside pocket and find Victor sending multiple texts.

“Looks like I have a problem to fix,” You hummed sliding off the bar stool, Oswald grips your wrist, “Yes?”

“No, you’re staying here until you tell me what’s got you so moody!”

“I have things to do, Os, don’t you have someone else to entertain you?”

You snatched your wrist away from him, you watched his green eyes harden at your snappy attitude, you could tell you were pushing his buttons if you weren’t you - he would have most likely have murdered you here.

“Don’t make me do something I’d regret.”

“Regret isn’t in your nature.” You retaliate back, your face too close for comfort but Oswald hadn’t had the pleasure to see your face up close and when you leaned back, he wanted to pull you closer.

“Emotions are my weakness, so I’ve been told,” Oswald commented, you shrug as you check your gun and started to make your way out of the club.

“My loyalty is mine.”

Oswald didn’t know what to think when you left him alone, not once in the years you have known each other and worked together had you argued or spat words in a distasteful manner. He knows what you’re capable of and what he was capable of.

Though, he does wonder what is going on in the funny little brain of yours.

“You’ve got it bad, man,” Victor commented as the two of your walk through Gotham with a milkshake in hand, walking back to the club.

Both of your covered in blood after you and Victor angrily took out some of Falcone’s capos that were hiding underground. Victor was busy slurping on his drink as you rolled your eyes.

“I know, that’s why I’m ignoring him until I don’t have to feel anymore.”

“How’s that going for you?”

“Terribly,” You commented, your shoulders deflate, “Once I think I’m over it, he comes back into the room with his stupid little cane and his charming fucking smile. God, have you seen how his eyes light u- You don’t care do you?”

“That is the fifth rant of the week about you gushing over our boss,” Victor informed you, “It’s only Tuesday.”

“Thanks for making me ten times great about myself,” You grumbled, “Might go to a strip joint or a gay bar.”

“Hey, you promised you’d take me to a gay bar, maybe us two good pals go out tonight?” Victor asked, excitedly, bumping shoulders with you as you chuckle whilst you sipped your milkshake.

“I’m not getting drunk with you, V, last time that happened we trashed a GCPD car,” You opened the door to the Iceberg Lounge, it was empty other than the frozen Ed statue.

“Still, it was a great time, didn’t you bed someone that night too?”

You two continued to walk into the back of the Lounge, entering where Oswald had his office and a “staff room” if you could consider that. Most often not, you, Ivy and the two Victors hung around mostly. You send Victor an unhappy look as you meet Ivy sitting with a magazine in her hand and Oswald pacing back and forth in the room. Victor Fries chilling.

“Still, you owe me a night out,” Victor says as you two enter the room, the three occupants looking at you two. 

“I’m not taking you to a gay bar tonight,” You rolled your eyes, hoping you don’t meet Oswald’s stare, “Another night.”

Victor looked triumph before patting you on the shoulder, leaning close to your ear to whisper, “Just confess your feelings, you idiot, before I do it for you.”

You scoffed as you stare at Oswald, he stares at you for a moment before promptly ranting. You had missed how his lips trembled with jealousy at how close Victor was to you. You missed how his foot was tapping, impatient with you.

Though amidst in his rant and plotting, he missed how you look vaguely amused, he missed how your eyes sparkled and for once you hadn’t looked so bummed down.

“Aren’t you so clever with your schemes and your plots.”

Oswald’s voice echoed through the empty lounge, you looked up from your laptop at the bar and sighed, you had been avoiding him like clockwork, you knew it would soon catch up with you.

“Schemes and plots are the same thing,” You responded coolly before returning your attention on your laptop.

He slinks himself in the bar stool next to you, “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Perhaps I am,” You responded, “What will you accuse me this time?”

“Spying on me and my endeavours,” Oswald started to list, “Betraying me, telling others about my plans, you’re avoiding me because of guilt, so if you confess now - I might let you live.”

You looked up from your keyboard, your fingers hovering above them before turning to look at him spinning your stool to turn your whole body to him. Due to this, he was taken aback. 

“Loyalty is my weakness, Oswald,” You hummed, “I told you that.”

“I’m starting to wonder if it really is.”

“I’m not avoiding you out of guilt, it’s something else.”

“Well, what is it? It’s affecting our relationship, I can’t lose the man who’s been by my side since I started with Fish.”

You stare at him, conflicted what to say, in your head, it was telling you to make up a story like your family died or you were recently broken up over. But, your heart was telling you to confess, he was right here and he was worried about your state of mind.

Just confess your feelings, you idiot, before I do it for you

Victor’s voice echos in your head, you bit your lip and stare at him. You knew what to do, heart over head.

You sighed, your shoulders deflate, “I...I love you, and not in a brotherly way since we’ve been working together for years but as in I have fallen in love with-”

You were suddenly cut off when you felt his lips pressed against yours. Your eyes widen before promptly shutting your eyes too. Melting at his warmth, melting into the passion in this feverish kiss. How he had gripped your tie to pull you closer. When parting, you slowly open to see his bright eyes shining at you, a small smile creeping up on his lips.

“I-” You breathed out, his hand still gripping against your tie.

“I love you too, silly man,” Oswald breaths out, engulfing the look of shock and storing it for later.

You two sat there in silence before your phone started to buzz. You lean back, and took out your phone, scoffing and throwing it on the table.

“Who is it?” Oswald asked, watching you turn to face him.

“Victor.”

“Oh, what does he want?”

“He wanted to know if I fessed up,” You admitted, leaning closer to him as Oswald chuckles, “I guess I owe dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“Yeah, tonight at seven, we have a lot to catch up with me being moping for the past month.”