#my coworkers can hear each other just fine from different rooms entirely and i have to struggle to make out what someone standing next

[munch-mumbles]

beginning to mald profusely at just how bad my auditory processing is

[jetii]

The Bet

Pairing: Kix x fem!Reader / Kix x Nurse!Reader

Words: 8,981

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! coworkers to friends to lovers, some blood/wound care but it's very minor, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), a hint of a praise kink

Summary: You and Kix have been dancing around each other for months. When losing a bet finds you alone in your apartment together for the first time, sparks fly.

A/N: I honestly was not a Kix girlie before writing this, so hopefully he's not too ooc!

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“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

Kix watches you move about your small kitchen from his seat at the counter. The beer he nurses in his hand is still cool, the condensation softening the label enough for his thumb to peel, a nervous habit you notice but are too polite to mention.

You pause your stirring momentarily to throw him an exasperated look over your shoulder. 

“I know.”

“I’m just saying you don’t need to do all this for me,” he says, gesturing towards the stove where a large pot bubbles, a delicious scent wafting through the air. “Pizza would’ve been fine.”

“And miss the opportunity to show off my excellent cooking?” you ask with a scoff, though it lacks any real conviction. 

You turn to face him. He looks so out of place in your tiny apartment, perched on the stool that is dwarfed by his size. His shoulders hunch as if he's trying to make himself seem smaller, a feat in itself for someone so large. 

You try to give him a smile that's more encouraging than teasing. “Not a chance.”

He shakes his head, returning the grin with one of his own as he looks down at his hands. The smile falls away when he sees the state of the label he had been absently peeling. He grimaces and balls up the ruined paper before throwing it at the trash can, a small ping echoing through the apartment as it lands in the center of the bin.

The corner of your mouth twitches into a smirk, and you roll your eyes playfully. Kix chuckles softly, and some of the tension dissipates from the room.

It's nice to hear him laugh after the week you've both had. You'd been near dead on your feet by the time the Resolute docked on Coruscant, but you'd promised Kix a proper home-cooked meal, and you weren't about to renege on your deal. A bet was a bet, after all.

Bets between the two of you were far from an unusual occurrence. Normally, it was simple things: what they were serving in the mess for breakfast, how many hangover remedies you'd have to administer after shore leave, or even just something as silly as who could finish their work faster. It had become so common to the point that the 501st was more than used to seeing you and Kix going back and forth, betting on just about everything.

This time was no different. You'd been arguing over a patient's chart one morning, and it had escalated until the two of you had settled on a bet. Whoever could get the most patients through their physical would win.

The only thing was that, by the time the two of you finally had the opportunity to settle the score, Kix had gotten the entire company in on it, and had somehow managed to get Rex to take his side. You had been absolutely furious at the time, but you got over it quickly when he made his request.

He could have chosen anything. He could have made you stay late or fill out paperwork for a week. He could have had you do something embarrassing.

Instead, he asked you to cook him dinner.

You don't have a lot of time outside of work, so when you do, you cook. It's your favorite hobby and one you're actually pretty good at. You take great pride in it. Cooking for Kix though? That's different.

It's not that you don't want to do it. On the contrary, you're thrilled by the opportunity. It's just that you want it to be perfect.

The apartment is quiet save for the sound of your work. You have the radio playing, the volume turned low so the music is more background noise than anything. You don't mind. You've always liked the sound of rain, and it gives you the opportunity to listen for Kix.

You'd noticed over the course of your friendship that Kix is usually quiet when he's comfortable. It had taken a while, but you learned his different silences. It was the same way he analyzed you: by the cadence of your footsteps and the tone of your voice. You'd learned to read him through those subtle indicators, and he had done the same.

Right now, he's content. There's no tension in his shoulders, and his breathing is even. You know he's watching you, his eyes tracking your movements. He looks a lot more relaxed here than he does at work, which isn't surprising. You've seen each other nearly every day since the start of the war, but you've never been able to spend time together like this. You're friends, sure, but you're also attracted to him, and you'd like to think he feels the same.

You've been dancing around each other for months, but neither one is brave enough to say something about it.

You make small talk, talking about nothing and everything while you cook. It's pleasant and comfortable and nice. You can feel his eyes on you as you work. The kitchen is small enough that he can watch you easily without having to leave his seat. You know he's enjoying the show.

“So, what are we having?” he asks.

You can hear the curiosity in his voice and grin.

When he'd made the request, he'd said he was up for anything, but you wanted it to be special. You have a plan, one that you hope he'll like.

You turn around, propping your elbows on the counter and leaning forward. He mirrors your position, and you're so close your noses almost touch.

His eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn't pull back. You tilt your head. “It’s a surprise.”

And a good one, you hoped. You weren’t sure the last time you put this much effort into a single meal, but if you were going to impress him, you wanted to do it right.

You'd started the process early this morning and had been checking and rechecking your progress throughout the day. You're making a traditional Alderaanian dish, one of your favorites, and one you're pretty confident you can pull off. You're not a chef by any stretch of the imagination, but you know your way around a kitchen and have been told by those who love you that your cooking is exceptional.

You can only hope he'll agree.

Of course, this was a man who preferred to subsist entirely on ration bars and caf, who forgot to eat unless you forced him out of the medbay, but you still found yourself hoping to wow him with your family’s recipes.

When Kix showed up at your door, you could tell that he was nervous. You were too, but you tried not to let it show. You were doing this because you liked him, not to get a reaction out of him, but the anticipation of his response was enough to make your heart flutter in your chest.

He looked more than a little disarmed at the sight of you in your civilian clothes, and the feeling was mutual. You didn't think you'd ever seen him out of armor. When you invited him inside, he pulled out a bouquet of daylilies from behind his back, sheepishly explaining that Jesse insisted he shouldn’t show up empty-handed.

The bouquet he’d given you was beautiful. You didn’t have a vase to put them in, so they were soaking in water in the largest coffee mug you could find with ‘Galaxy’s Best Nurse’ in gaudy red letters on the side. You hoped they wouldn’t wilt before you could find something better to put them in. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time anyone had bought you flowers.

Kix was sweet, sweeter than you ever anticipated from your first meeting. On your first day aboard the Resolute, when Captain Rex first introduced you as the resident nurse aboard the ship, Kix took one long look at you and promptly rolled his eyes.

“She's not gonna last a week.”

Rex had looked ready to throttle him, but you merely gave him a wry grin and told him you were more than capable of doing your job.

He was quick to apologize, though you could tell he was more than a little skeptical, and the two of you had spent the better part of that first month trying to get on the other's good side. The first time he laughed at one of your jokes, it was like the floodgates opened. After that, it was easy, and the two of you quickly fell into an easy friendship.

You came to realize being blunt was just his way, though Kix was never as short with you as he was with his brothers. Jesse said it was because he had a soft spot for you, but you were more inclined to believe he just didn’t want to create a hostile work environment.

That was months ago, and a lot has changed since.

You enjoyed Kix. His dry humor always caught you off guard, even if you were getting used to it. He seemed to enjoy making you laugh. And at the end of a long day, he was always the first to ask if you needed help cleaning up the medbay, always the first to offer to walk you back to your quarters.

You shared plenty of late nights together, sometimes going over patient files or stocking supplies. Other times you simply sat together in the quiet, enjoying each other’s company.

You grew close. It was only natural.

Still, it didn't feel natural to invite him over for a home-cooked meal. You'd never been anything but professional with each other, even in private. You'd never seen him in civvies before and had certainly never imagined that his hair, longer now than you’ve ever seen it, might curl a little in the humidity.

It wasn't fair, really, how much you enjoyed the sight of him.

You had spent the day wondering if this was the right decision. You worried you were reading too much into his request, that you were imagining the interest you thought you saw. But if nothing else, you hoped tonight would provide some insight.

You wanted this to go well.

You didn’t know how much of that was for your sake or his.

You push back from the counter, and Kix makes no move to follow. You turn back to the stove and continue working, a grin pulling at your lips. You don’t think he realizes that you can feel his gaze on you. He doesn't make any attempt to hide his staring.

The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable, but there is an undercurrent of something else, a tension you're not sure what to do with. You know that you aren't the only one feeling this way. He'd been nervous when he first arrived, and though he was more at ease now, the tension hadn't dissipated.

It's not an unwelcome feeling. If anything, it's the opposite. You enjoy knowing he's watching you, that you’re having some kind of effect on him. You enjoy having him here, alone. It's a different sort of intimacy, a different kind of closeness. You wonder if it's a step in the right direction.

You're not sure what to expect from him, but whatever it is, you're ready for it.

“How long until dinner is ready, doc? I'm starving over here." You don't have to turn to see him smile. You can hear it in his voice.

"Don't rush me," you scold, and he chuckles. "Dinner isn't ready until it's ready."

"I can't believe you're making me wait. It smells delicious."

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," you say, and you glance over your shoulder at him. "I was worried you wouldn't."

Kix raises his eyebrows. "Worried? About what?"

You turn away. "I don't know. I thought maybe you'd be disappointed."

"Why would I be disappointed?" he asks, sounding genuinely confused.

"I don't know." You shrug. "Maybe because we haven't really hung out before, and maybe you didn't want to, and—“

"No," he says, cutting you off. "I like spending time with you. I wanted to come."

You swallow, trying to keep your expression neutral despite the sudden tightness in your chest. "Oh."

"Besides, I've been meaning to ask for a while."

"Ask me what?" you ask, looking over at him.

He gives a half-shrug, the corner of his mouth twitching. "To have dinner with you."

Your face grows warm, and your stomach does a flip. You try to focus on the food, but it's difficult when all you can think about is the man behind you.

You hadn't realized just how much you wanted him to say that until he did.

"If it helps, I can promise that you won't regret it," you say, throwing a grin over your shoulder.

He leans his chin on his palm, grinning back. "I'm sure I won't."

You set a pot of water on the stove and turn on the burner.

"What're you doing?" he asks, sounding concerned.

"Boiling water."

"For what?"

"Kebroots."

He looks confused. "Aren't we having that stuff you're making now?"

"This is the sauce for the main dish," you say, gesturing with your spoon. It's easy to forget that he's never had a proper home-cooked meal in his life, and the thought of him getting to taste this one is more than a little thrilling. "The kebroots are going in the water."

"Why?"

"Because they need to boil."

He gives you a flat look, and you roll your eyes. "Do you want to know the answer to everything, or do you want to enjoy the surprise?"

"Fine," he says, sitting back. "But don't think you can keep me from learning your secrets."

You raise your eyebrows at him. "Is that so?"

He nods, grinning.

"Well, then," you say, smiling down at the pot. "I'll have to make sure you don't."

You're not usually one to play your cards so close to the vest. It's not like you to keep secrets, but there's something fun about the intrigue, something thrilling about keeping him in the dark.

"Can I at least have a hint?" he asks, resting his elbows on the counter.

You turn and prop yourself against the stove. "No. I already told you. It's a surprise."

"Come on, doc. You can't give me something?" he wheedles, his brown eyes sparkling with mirth. "Just a little something to tide me over."

"No."

"Please?"

"Nope."

"You're no fun."

"And yet, here you are,” you say with a teasing tilt of your head.

Kix grins, then sighs.

"Fine," he says and pushes back from the counter. "If that's the case, then I'm going to need more beer."

He disappears into the fridge. You don't turn, focusing instead on the task at hand. The sauce is nearly finished, but there are still a few steps left to complete.

You hear him move to your bookshelf, fingers lightly tapping along the spines of your books. You'd been surprised when he mentioned enjoying reading, since most clones you'd met didn't bother with it, preferring instead to watch holodramas or listen to the radio. But Kix liked books, which you were sure he kept to himself for fear of teasing from his brothers. You had a sneaking suspicion he was a romantic.

He stops to pull one out, running his fingers down the spine. "The Time Machine," he reads.

"It was one of my favorites as a kid," you explain. "I'm surprised it survived the trip here."

Kix puts it back in its place. "Have you ever read any of the Corellian Civil War holonovels?"

"No.” You shake your head. “I've never been a fan of war stories."

Kix snorts. "Me neither. There's only so many ways they can tell the same story."

"There's nothing like real-life experience," you say, and you immediately regret it.

"True," Kix agrees and doesn't press the matter. You’re thankful, your heart in your throat, that you hadn’t ruined the moment entirely, but you can’t help but feel a little on edge.

The two had been working together for several months, and though it wasn't uncommon for clone troopers and nat-born people to befriend one another, there was still an underlying tension between you, one that neither of you had the guts to address.

He'd asked you for dinner because he liked you. You accepted because you liked him.

Neither was quite sure what to do next.

The tension between you had grown more pronounced, and though neither of you made any effort to stop it, the unresolved feelings were starting to affect your work. You were both professionals and did your best not to let it interfere, but it was still there, a constant reminder of what was unsaid, a potential opportunity squandered.

Still, if you were going to pursue a relationship with anyone, you were glad it was him.

You had a fondness for him, and it had grown into something deeper. It wasn't just his looks. Though he was definitely the most handsome trooper in the GAR, that was never a primary consideration for you. You’ve spent nearly every waking moment around men who looked almost exactly like him, after all. But it was the differences, the small nuances that made him stand out, that drew your eye.

With the water finally boiling, you turn back to chopping the kebroot. The vegetable is a bit tricky to handle, its tough outer skin resisting the knife's edge. You steady your hand, apply more pressure, and try again.

You’re grateful Kix seems to be distracted by your books, allowing you to focus. If he saw you struggling, he’d probably try to offer help, and you want to do this on your own.

He was right earlier, when he said you didn't need to do all this for him.

You don't.

But you want to.

He's a good man, a hard worker, and you want to show him your appreciation. He deserves someone to take care of him for once.

When you think about it, the whole thing seems silly. You're grown adults, not hormonal teenagers. You can't believe you're making such a big deal out of something so simple.

But it is a big deal, and not just because he's the first man you've found attractive in a long time. It's the fact that you've been dancing around this for months, if not longer, and now you finally have an opportunity to explore the potential between you.

You’ve been trying your best not to picture him here, but with him in the apartment, it was difficult not to imagine. You worked together. You were friends. It was easy for you to forget that, and even easier to let your imagination run wild.

You can see him in the kitchen, helping you chop vegetables, or washing dishes at the sink. You can see him on the couch, his arm draped over the back, his legs spread wide, his head tilted back in a laugh. You can see him in bed, and that's where your mind wanders to the most.

You imagine how it might feel to kiss him, to touch him, to have him touch you. You wonder if he'll be gentle or if he'll be rough. You don't have a preference. You don't care as long as it's him. You want him to hold you. You want to feel him pressed against you, his chest against yours, his mouth against your neck, his hands running up your sides, slipping underneath your shirt—

You hiss out a curse as the knife slips, nicking the fleshy part of your finger. Blood wells up, a stark contrast against the green of the ruica.

"You okay?" Kix asks.

"I'm fine," you answer quickly.

You reach blindly for the towel, wrapping the cloth around the cut, trying to apply pressure. The cut isn’t deep, but it stings like hell.

"What happened?" he asks, appearing at your side.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"Let me see," he says, and grabs the wrist of the hand holding the towel.

"It's not bad," you say and are about to pull away, but he doesn’t let go. He guides you to the sink and holds your hand under the tepid water. His eyes flicker from the wound to your face and back again, brows furrowed in a way you know means he’s gone into medic mode.

“Kix, I’m fine,” you huff. You try to withdraw your wrist, but he holds fast.

"Stop moving. You're bleeding all over the counter."

“Sorry,” you say. You can feel your cheeks burning. You should have been more careful.

His hands are warm. The pressure feels good. You can't remember the last time someone touched you like this. You want to pull away, to spare yourself the embarrassment of being this close to him, but he doesn't seem to mind. If anything, he seems determined.

“Where’s your med kit?” he asks, eyes still fixed on your hand.

You tell him where to find it, and he firmly instructs you to keep your hand under the water before he breaks into a jog toward the bathroom.

“Sit,” Kix commands when he returns, his tone no-nonsense.

You can't help but laugh.

He shoots you a glare as he opens the kit and begins removing the supplies. "I'm serious, doc. Sit."

He's so cute when he's bossy.

"Alright," you relent, pulling out a chair and sitting down. He grabs the chair across from you and drags it closer, positioning himself directly across from you.

"Gimme your hand," he orders, and you do as you're told, holding it out for him. He gently peels the towel back and sets it aside. You don't dare look. You're too embarrassed.

“Seriously, you don’t have to,” you assure him, but he just shakes his head and dabs the blood away with a clean corner of the towel.

“Should’ve known you’d be a Code 5,” he says your code word for a difficult patient with a roll of his eyes. He's only half joking.

“It’s a cut, not a stab wound,” you reply indignantly.

Kix shakes his head and reaches for the alcohol wipe. He opens it with his teeth and begins cleaning the area around the wound.

"I know that," he says, his voice softer. “I just don’t like seeing you hurt.”

He looks away to discard the wipe, and when he meets your gaze again, his eyes are filled with warmth and something else.

You don’t know how to respond.

It's a look that speaks volumes.

His touch is gentle, his fingers brushing against your palm. It's not necessary, but he does it anyway.

“Just let me take care of you,” Kix says quietly, his gaze locked on yours. “Please. For my sake.”

“Alright.” You nod, biting your lip once he turns away to grab a bandage. The intensity in his gaze surprises you. It’s different than the look he wears when you’re in the midst of surgery, different from the easy smile he wears when you’re with the men. This is something new, something unexpected.

It feels personal.

He tears the backing off the bandage and presses it gently over the cut. You try to focus on his hands instead of his face. His fingers are rough and calloused, and you how they'd feel against your bare skin.

The thought makes your stomach flutter.

It's not a foreign feeling. You've thought about this before, more times than you care to admit, but this is the first time you've been so close. This is the first time you let him.

When he finishes, he presses a kiss to your bandaged finger. The action is quick, almost thoughtless, and it catches you off guard. Kix freezes. His lips linger for a moment too long, and his cheeks flush pink.

He pulls back. "Sorry," he mumbles, not meeting your eyes.

"It's okay," you say, smiling shyly.

You're touched by the gesture. It's sweet and considerate, and exactly the sort of thing he'd do. His cheeks are flushed. You can't tell if he's embarrassed or if it's the proximity.

Your hand folds back into your lap. You can still feel the warmth of his lips on your skin. You don't know why the kiss affects you so much. It's not the first time you've been kissed, and it certainly won't be the last, but something about his touch makes your pulse quicken.

"You're sweet," you say, trying to lighten the mood.

He grins, shaking his head. "Don't let that get around."

"My lips are sealed."

He glances down at your mouth, his grin fading. You feel a thrill rush through you, the hair on the back of your neck standing up. Your heart starts to beat faster.

"Good," he whispers, his voice low and husky.

You don't move.

You don't want to break the spell.

Kix's eyes search yours, looking for some sign of reciprocation. He's giving you a chance to tell him no, to push him away.

Instead, your hand comes up to cup his cheek. Your thumb brushes across his bottom lip. You feel the breath leave his lungs, feel him lean into your touch. His eyes are hooded, pupils blown wide.

"Kix?"

"Yeah?" he whispers.

"You should kiss me," you breathe.

Kix rises to his feet, leaning down so that his face is only inches from yours. You take in his features, his warm eyes, the way they're trained on your lips, the way he's watching your every move as if waiting for you to change your mind.

His thumb caresses your cheek, and he waits a breath more before leaning in to press his lips to yours.

You sigh into his touch, bringing your other hand up to grab the back of his head. The kiss is soft, unhurried, a slow slide of lips.

Your tongue slides across his bottom lip, and he groans, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. His hands roam over your shoulders, down your back, over your hips, his fingertips brushing the exposed skin above your waistband.

You part, and you let your forehead rest against his, both of you catching your breath. Eventually, you pull back, swallowing nervously.

"I'm sorry," you say. "I don't know why I did that."

"I do," he replies.

You look up in surprise and find him watching you. His eyes are bright, and he's smiling, a real smile, not the forced one he sometimes uses around others.

"I've wanted to do that since the day we met," he admits, his cheeks reddening slightly. "And I'm not sorry it happened."

"Really?" you ask, trying not to sound too eager.

He nods, the hand on your cheek moving to play with the ends of your hair. "You're beautiful. And smart. And you take no shit, especially from me. What’s not to like?"

You laugh and lean in to kiss him again. He returns the kiss eagerly, his hand resting on your lower back to pull you closer.

"I wasn't going to say anything," he continues between kisses. "I didn't think you would want this."

"Well, I do." You grin. "Very much."

He groans and leans in to capture your lips again, but you stop him with a finger to his lips. He raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue.

"The food's burning."

Kix's eyes go wide, and he rounds the counter in a flash, quickly grabbing the pot off the burner and setting it aside.

"Shit," he curses, and you can't help but laugh at the panicked expression on his face.

"Relax. I'm kidding," you say, and you follow him to wrap your arms around waist. He relaxes into your touch, his hands coming up to rest on your hips.

“Can it be reheated?” he asks, his expression hopeful.

You quirk an eyebrow. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

His hands slide up to cup either side of your face and pull you into another kiss, one you can feel all the way down to your toes. He presses you up against the counter, his body flush against yours.

You whine into his mouth at the feeling of his tongue against yours, your fingers gripping his hair to ground yourself. He tastes like beer and something else, something dark and earthy.

It's delicious, and you can't get enough.

His lips leave yours to trail across your cheek to your neck, peppering kisses along your jaw, his teeth scraping along your pulse.

"We should probably wait until after dinner to do this," you breathe, tilting your head to give him better access.

"I can't," he replies, his voice rough, his hands roaming across your body.

"Me either," you agree, and let him lift you onto the counter. Your legs wrap around his hips instinctively, your hands cupping his face as you bring him in for another kiss.

His hands are everywhere, his touch electric, and you want him to touch you everywhere, his hands and his lips, his mouth and his tongue.

Your hands slide underneath his shirt, pushing the material up until he has to withdraw to pull it off over his head. You take in the expanse of his bare torso, the way the muscles ripple under your touch, and your heart feels like it's about to beat out of your chest.

"You're gorgeous," you say, your hands coming to rest on his chest. You could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

"You are," he says. "And I've wanted this for so long."

He reaches behind you to remove your shirt, leaving you in your bra and pants. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and you want him to touch you, to make you feel good, to ease the ache that's been building inside you since the first time he smiled at you.

He dips his head to kiss you again, his hands sliding up to tangle in your hair. Your mouth opens to his, and he takes advantage, deepening the kiss and pushing his tongue against yours. He nips at your bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth, and you moan, pulling him closer.

His lips travel across your jaw, down your neck, along your collarbone. His hands find the clasp of your bra and make quick work of the latch, leaving you bare. You shiver, the cool air hitting your skin, goosebumps breaking out over your skin.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he whispers, and he leans down to take one nipple into his mouth.

"Oh," you gasp, arching your back into him.

He sucks the sensitive bud between his lips, swirling his tongue around the peak, teasing you. He takes the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging and twisting, sending sparks of pleasure through you.

Your head falls back, and you moan his name, your fingers holding tight to his neck, your thighs squeezing his hips.

You can feel the heat of him against you, the hard ridge of his cock pressing against your center, and you grind down against him, desperate for friction.

His mouth leaves your breast, and he kisses you, his tongue tangling with yours, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. You drag him closer, your hands running over his back, exploring every inch of his warm, firm skin.

His lips trail across your cheek, and you gasp as he presses open-mouthed kisses down your neck. He pauses to suck a bruise into the sensitive skin where your neck meets your shoulder, his hands massaging your waist.

"What do you want, mesh’la?" he murmurs, his mouth trailing along your collarbone.

"You," you reply, your voice breaking into a moan when he bites down gently on your shoulder, and you can't help but buck your hips.

You can feel him grin against your skin. "You have me."

"Bed," you manage, your hands gripping at his shoulders. "Now."

Kix chuckles, his hands sliding down to cup your ass. He pulls you flush against him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he lifts you off the counter. Your legs tighten around his waist and you bury your face in his neck to muffle your gasp as he walks you down the short hallway toward your bedroom.

Kix kisses you deeply as he lays you on the bed, hovering above you for a moment before he ducks down to press a kiss to your stomach.

His lips trail lower, dipping just above the waistband of your pants. Your breath hitches at the feeling of his mouth on you, the scratch of his stubble against the sensitive skin there. The idea of what he’ll feel like between your thighs has you nodding before he’s even asked the question, his hands hovering on your waist.

Kix’s fingers hook into the waistband, slowly sliding your pants and underwear down your legs. You help him, lifting your hips so he can pull them off. Your panties stick to the slick dampening your center, and Kix lets out a barely concealed moan at the darkened patch there before tearing them away. 

You expect him to discard them over your shoulder with your pants, but he shocks you by giving you a bashful smile and tucking them into his back pocket.

"Really?" you ask, trying to stifle your amusement.

"What?" He gives you a look that's almost innocent, if not for the fact that he's hovering above you, half-naked and fully aroused.

“Nothing. I just didn't expect you to want to keep them."

"Do you mind?" he asks, his expression turning serious.

"Not at all," you say, and watch with rapt attention as his expression turns devious.

"Good. I plan to treasure these," he teases, and he presses a kiss to your bare knee. You shudder at the touch, at the implication behind his words.

"Now where were we?" he murmurs, his voice husky, his eyes dark as he lowers himself to his knees on the floor in front of you.

He grabs the back of your ankles and tugs, and you let out a squeak as you're pulled until your ass is nearly hanging off the edge. It’s a precarious position that’s immediately rectified by Kix arranging your legs so they’re thrown over each of his shoulders, his face level with your exposed center.

The feeling of his breath against your cunt is almost too much to bear, your legs wanting to close instinctually, but he quickly stops you with a firm hand on either thigh.

“Hold still, beautiful,” he commands softly, his eyes fixed on your wet, swollen folds.

“Kix—“

Whatever you meant to say evaporates as soon he darts forward, tongue flattening to lick a stripe from your entrance to your clit. You nearly forget your own name when he parts your lips with one hand to give him better access, zeroing in on your clit without any direction from you. 

His licks start out soft, then steadily increase in pressure until you're nearly grinding on his tongue. The scratch of his stubble against you feels as good as you imagined. He eats you out like he’s starving, with a passion you knew he possessed but never dared to dream he’d apply to you in this way.

He withdraws for a moment to take a deep breath, his eyes flicking up to yours, pupils blown wide. “More?”

You nod frantically, though you aren’t sure what you're agreeing to. Anything to keep his hands and mouth on you. “Please.”

Kix dives back in, lapping up the juices leaking from you before returning back to your clit. Zaps of pleasure jolt up your spine and turn into a burning heat when you feel something nudge your entrance. His finger slips inside with ease, stroking your walls and the fire building inside of you, your eyelids fluttering shut. 

He finds the spongey part deep inside you within seconds, hooking his finger upward to press firmly and drawing a gasp from you. With his target found, he adds another finger and begins to slowly curl them, pushing his hand in and out in a rhythm that has you seeing stars.

His lips close around your clit, suddenly sucking hard, and you gasp.

Your hips jolt off the bed, thighs closing involuntarily around his head, and he groans loudly. Your eyes open abruptly, worrying you've hurt him somehow. 

Instead, you find his eyes closed, brow furrowed in pleasure, and the hand he’d been using to hold you open has retreated. From your vantage point, you can only see his arm moving, and you realize with a moan that he’s languidly palming his cock in time with the thrusting of his fingers.

As if he can sense you watching, Kix opens his eyes. Though his mouth doesn’t let up in its assault on your clit, you can see the smile in his eyes as he stares back. His fingers speed up as he pulls back to speak, punching the air from your lungs and sending you falling back against the bed.

“Can you take three?”

“Ye-es.” You hiccup at the feeling of a third thick finger slowly breaching you, stuffing you fuller than you've ever been able to manage on your own. The coil in your stomach tightens with each push and pull into your wet heat. Every thrust of his fingers sends you higher and higher, your entire body writhing with the force of it.

“Look at you," he groans. "So tight and wet. Taking my fingers so well, like you were made for me."

Your hands come up to fist the sheets at your sides, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter with each word, the way he moans between your legs, the way his eyes flutter closed in bliss as he fucks you with his hand. You can feel yourself approaching your peak, your walls clenching and fluttering around his fingers.

"Are you gonna come for me?"

"Yes." You gasp, your thighs starting to shake with the strain.

"Come on," he encourages, taking your clit between his lips and sucking, his tongue flicking rapidly against you. "Let go, beautiful."

Your eyes slam shut, and your orgasm slams into you with a force unlike anything you've felt before. It rips through your body, the heat coiled inside your exploding, your walls clamping down on his fingers as you writhe. You feel yourself nearly come out of your body, tingling pleasure coursing through you in waves. 

Just as you're beginning to wonder if it’ll ever stop, it begins to fade, leaving you panting and sweating as your body collapses against the bed.

“Holy shit,” you say breathlessly. Kix chuckles from the floor, and you push yourself up on your elbows to look at him after you regain control of your limbs. He’s staring back at you, a dreamy smile on his face, the entire lower half dampened with your arousal.

“How was that?” he asks.

“I think you know,” you laugh, breathless. “I thought I was about to suffocate you there for a second.”

“Worth it, trust me.” He sighs wistfully, his eyes a little unfocused. “I don't think I've ever seen anything so hot in my life."

"You're such a charmer," you tease, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair.

"Just telling the truth," he smiles, and presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

Kix helps you lower your trembling legs from his shoulders before glancing down at the hand that was just inside you. He lifts it up to his mouth, sucking his fingers and tasting your release with a thoughtful hum before he moves to stand.

“Just as I thought.”

“What?”

“I knew you’d taste incredible.”

He kisses you, tongue pushing its way inside your mouth to tangle with your own. You moan when you taste yourself on his tongue, chasing after him when he pulls away to push his pants off completely. 

You want to keep kissing him, keep feeling his mouth against yours, but you're distracted by the sight of his cock springing free from his small black briefs as he slides them down his strong thighs.

Your mouth drops open in disbelief.

“You’re kidding.”

Kix’s fingers, slick with his spit and the remnants of your release, circle the head of his cock. It’s half-hard from his concentrated efforts on your cunt, but it quickly springs to life under his attention. Even not fully erect, it’s by far the most impressive cock you've ever seen. Thick, a sizable length, and now curving up toward his stomach, you can’t look away.

Saliva begins to pool on your tongue at the thought of having him in your mouth, but before you can lean forward to act on your desires, he’s pushing you back on the bed.

“If I knew all you clones were packing —“

He cuts you off with a bruising kiss.

“Careful, mesh’la.” The Mando’a comes out in a growl as he crowds you against the bed, slotting himself between your legs. His hand slides up your thigh to your breast, pinching a nipple. “I’m not big on sharing.”

You let out a breathless giggle as his mouth descends to follow the path his hand has taken, sucking your other nipple into his mouth. The feeling of his mouth and teeth on your chest makes you moan, your hips bucking against his.

"Kix, please."

He kisses back up your chest and throat to press his forehead against yours. You can feel the way his fingers tremble against you as he reaches down to line himself up with your entrance, and your hand comes up to cup his cheek.

"Are you nervous?"

"Yes," he admits, eyes closing as he takes a deep breath.

"We don't have to do this," you assure him.

His eyes shoot open. "I want this more than anything."

"Okay," you smile.

He lets out a sigh, his body relaxing above you. "Sorry, it's just... I've wanted this for a long time, and I just don't want to mess it up."

"You won't." Your arms come around to wrap around his neck. "But I'll tell you if I'm not liking something."

He nods, ducking down to kiss you deeply. Your legs come up to wrap around his waist, and he groans into your mouth as the head of his cock rubs against your clit.

"Please," you whine as he begins to rock his hips. His cock glides easily through your slick folds, and his lips drop back to your neck. "Inside me, Kix."

"Maker, you're wet." His cock slips back down to your entrance, and you bite your lip as the head begins to breach you.

"That's what happens when you make a girl cum," you quips, moaning as he slowly inches inside of you. You feel every inch of him, the stretch more than you're used to but still deliciously perfect. "Oh, fuck!"

He stops, pulling back to look at you with concern. "Are you okay? Am I hurting you?"

"No! No, it's just... " you laugh breathlessly, your hand coming up to caress his cheek. "You're huge. Fuck, Kix."

He smirks, leaning down to kiss you as he continues to push inside of you. The stretch is unlike anything you've ever felt, and it's making your head spin. He feels amazing, thick and hot and throbbing inside of you.

"Fuck, you feel good," he grunts. "I wish you could see how good you look taking my cock."

Your cunt clenches around him at his words, and he groans. He buries his face in your neck, pressing kisses along your jaw, his breath coming out in hot puffs against your skin.

When he bottoms out, you both let out a shaky breath.

"Stars," you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders. "Kix, you feel amazing."

"So do you," he grits out. "You take my cock so well, mesh'la. Like you were made for me."

You moan at his words, his hips pulling back to thrust shallowly into you. You can't help the whine that escapes you, your legs tightening around his waist to pull him closer. The slow drag of his cock against your walls is almost too much, pleasure bordering on the line between pain.

"Faster," you pants, your nails scratching down his back. "Harder, Kix. I need it."

"Anything you want," he replies, his hips picking up speed.

He kisses you, tongue plunging into your mouth as he begins to snap his hips against yours. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of him filling you, the slick sounds of your cunt and his thrusts echoing throughout the room.

Kix fucks you like it's his last chance, hard and fast and rough, like he's afraid you’ll disappear at any moment, and you can barely do anything but hold on.

He changes the angle of his hips slightly, and your mouth drops open as a strangled cry is torn from your lips. His cock rubs against your sweet spot with each stroke, and his head drops to your chest as his hips slam against yours.

"Stars, mesh’la, you feel incredible," he grunts, pressing his face into your neck. His teeth sink into the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder, and you let out a strangled gasp.

"Oh, fuck. Don't stop, Kix," you pants, your voice breaking into a sob, your hand tangling in his hair to tug on it. His hips stutter for a moment before he picks up the pace, your entire body jolting with the force of each thrust. He's fucking you so hard, his cock driving into you with enough force that your entire body rocks with the force of it. "Kix, oh kriff."

He withdraws from your neck, his mouth returning to yours. He swallows your moans, hips pumping into your faster as you squeeze around him. The feeling of him stretching you is intoxicating, and you never want it to end. You wonder if it would be too much to ask him to stay inside your forever, his thick cock plugging you up so nothing could slip out. You feel him everywhere, all around you and inside you. It's overwhelming in the best possible way.

"Kix," you whimper, breaking the kiss to bury your face in his neck. Your teeth scrape along his skin, and you revel in the groan that escapes him. His hands tighten on your hips, thumbs pressing against the bones there.

"Mesh’la," he gasps. "Kriff, I'm getting close."

"Me, too."

You can feel the fire burning low in your stomach, your walls fluttering around him. You dig your heels into his ass, encouraging him to go even deeper, and you see stars when he hits the spot inside you that makes your toes curl.

"Right there, Kix!"

He changes angles so he's hitting your g-spot on every thrust, his mouth dropping back to your neck. You can feel the sweat beading on his skin, the way his muscles flex under your hands with every movement. You scratch down his back, hips jerking to meet his, and you know he must be close. His thrusts are becoming more erratic, his breathing heavier.

"Kix, I'm gonna--" you gasp, your hand cupping the back of his neck.

He buries his face in your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses on every inch of skin in his reach. The hand on your hip slides between you, and you nearly scream when he begins to circle your clit with his thumb.

"Cum for me, beautiful," he mutters, biting your earlobe.

Your orgasm comes out of nowhere, your body seizing up as you cums. White-hot pleasure courses through you, your thighs shaking around him. You can vaguely hear him whispering praise in your ear, but you can't focus on anything except the feeling of his cock still pounding into your as you ride out your high.

"So good, mesh'la. I love the way your pussy squeezes my cock. You look so pretty when you cum, you know that?” he babbles with a low groan, hips beginning to stutter. “Fuck, I'm not gonna last."

You manage to regain your bearings after a moment, your body feeling like jelly. Your limbs feel like they weigh a ton, but you're determined. You need to see him lose control, need to see him fall apart because of you. You know he's close, can feel his thrusts becoming more and more uneven.

"Cum for me, Kix," you order. You can't help the smug smirk that overtakes your features as he groans loudly. "I want to see you."

"Mesh'la," he chokes out, hips losing their rhythm as he fucks you.

"Let go, baby." You lean up to nip his jaw, the hand on the back of his neck tangling in his hair. He looks so beautiful above you, eyes screwed shut, a flush coloring his cheeks. His skin is shining with sweat, muscles flexing as he pushes himself further.

"Look at me."

His eyes flutter open, and you nearly cum again. The sight of him, eyes half-lidded and mouth hanging open, is almost enough to tip you over the edge.

"Fuck," he gasps, hips pistoning into your erratically.

"Cum for me," you repeat.

The grip on your hips is almost bruising as he buries himself inside you. His hips jerk once, twice, and then he's gone, moaning loudly as he cums. You can feel the pulsing of his cock inside you, the warm wetness flooding your cunt, and you can't help the whine that escapes you.

"Kriff," he grunts, head dropping down to rest against yours. You stay like that for a moment, both panting, the only sounds in the room the faint hum of the rain outside and your heavy breathing.

You feel boneless, completely and utterly spent. If you were to die right now, you'd die happy. Kix props himself up on his forearms, brushing your sweaty hair from your face with a grin. He presses a soft kiss to your lips, and you smile tiredly.

"Hey," you whisper.

"Hey," he replies. He ducks down to kiss you again, his smile widening. Has he always had dimples? How did you not notice those before? "How are you feeling?"

"Messy,” you laugh. You glance down at the place where your bodies are joined, feeling him twitch inside you.

"Let me take care of that," he says, gently sliding out of you. The sound he makes when he leaves your body is positively sinful, and your thighs clench at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you.

Kix brushes another kiss against your temple before standing from the bed. You watch with half-lidded eyes as he disappears into the refresher, returning a moment later with a damp washcloth. He cleans you up gently, tossing the cloth in the direction of the refresher once he's finished.

"Come here," you murmur, reaching out for him.

He climbs into bed beside you, and you roll onto your side to press yourself against his chest, throwing your leg over his. His arms come around you immediately, holding you close as he peppers kisses on your hair. You snuggle closer, sighing happily as the warmth radiating from him cocoons around you. His hands run over every inch of available skin as if he's committing it to memory.

"I can't believe we waited so long to do that," you mumbled against his chest.

Kix laughs, the vibrations running through his chest and into yours. You're suddenly aware of how bare you both are, how you're pressed together from shoulder to toe. It should be unnerving, but it isn't. You feel safe.

"Me either. We should've been doing that this whole time."

You giggle, your hand running across his side to rest on his ribs. You can feel the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your palm. "Maybe next time you can fuck me on a med table."

He groans, the hand on your waist moving down to squeeze your ass. "That violates about ten different health codes."

"Fine. The supply closet, then."

"Mesh’la —" The words are a choked moan, and you can’t help but laugh.

"You're cute when you're flustered."

"You're a menace."

You lean up to press a kiss to his jaw, smirking. "But you like it.”

"You're right," he chuckles, leaning down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. "I do."

You hum happily, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips move slowly against yours before a rumbling sensation under your hand makes them shoot open.

"Was that your stomach?"

Kix blushes and looks away. "Maybe."

You roll your eyes fondly, pushing away from his chest. He whines, trying to pull your back against him.

“You’re hungry,” you laugh.

"I am not," he protests weakly.

You stand from the bed, grinning when his eyes immediately drop to your body. His gaze is so heated that you can't help but flush, and it only burns brighter when you bend over to pick up your pants, and he lets out a low groan.

"Mesh'la, if you keep doing that, I'll never let you leave this bed," he growls.

You bite your lip, your eyes flickering down to the sheet barely covering his growing erection. The sight is mouthwatering, and your mind fills with a thousand different ideas about what you'd like to do with him. But your stomach growls again, and you sigh, walking toward the refresher.

"Where are you going?" he pouts, propping himself up on his elbows.

"You're not the only one who's hungry." You stop at the door, giving him a mischievous smile. "And if you're a good boy, I'll make it worth the wait."

Kix is quiet for a moment before he speaks. "I can wait."

"Good boy."

His responding groan has you grinning from ear to ear as you disappear behind the door, your laughter echoing off the walls.

[bnhabadass]

Pairing: Shinsou x Reader Genre: Angst with happy ending, NSFW Word Count: 4,049 Synopsis: Shinsou is sick and tired of seeing you go out on all these disappointing Tinder hookups, especially when you always seem to ask him to satisfy you afterwards. But there must be a reason why you keep going on these dates, right? A/N: This is my piece for the bnharem roommates collab. I always forget how much I love writing Shinsou’s character but this definitely brought my spark with him back. Make sure to check out everyone else’s collab pieces on the masterlist!

Another night of tinder swipes. Another night of late night walks through desolate and windy streets. Another night of sleepy dinner and listening to the same old boring stories that every date has to offer. Another night of disappointing sex as he can’t seem to find the hole and his finger nails are sharper than they need to be. Another night of two pump chumps who ask, “does that feel good baby?” and another night of lying through your teeth as you fake moans and count the seconds before you’re allowed to leave.

It’s just like any other Saturday night where your toes are crushed in the tips of your heels and you shiver as you walk back to your apartment, keys clutched between your fingers just in case someone tries to pull something and you need to think quickly. You have your routine ingrained in you, like second nature.

The walk back home is cold and clammy. You can’t shake the feeling of the little hairs on your arms and legs springing up like a cat in shock as the wind pushes right past you. The only thing you could think of to keep yourself from toppling over from exhaustion was the heat that would be coming from your room back home, the fuzzy blanket you’d lie under, and the man awaiting your return to greet you with surprises like no other.

When you did open the front door, heat wafted towards you and your achy muscles began to relax.

“Rough night?” The voice from inside cooed.

“‘Oh baby do you like that?’” you mocked. “‘Does that hurt so good?’”

The person sitting on the sofa with a book covering their face laughed. “Please tell me he did not say that.”

You kicked off your heels and rolled out your ankles. “Shinsou, I swear to god, you have to meet some of these people. This one guy was ridiculous. As I was sucking him off he told me I reminded him of his mother.”

The purple haired young man gagged. “And you still sucked his dick?”

“That’s the best part,” you laughed. “He finished right after he said that.”

Shinsou grimaced. “Why do you keep going on these dates when everyone you end up sleeping with sucks.”

You collapsed on the couch next to him. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because a certain someone always ends up taking care of me after.” Laying your head in his lap, you smiled up at him.

Shinsou gave you a lazy smirk back. “So that’s it, huh? I actually know how to use my tongue so you’re purposefully coming home unsatisfied.”

“I wouldn’t say purposefully,” you said with a mock offended tone to your words. “If there ever is a man out there who did know how to please me then I can guarantee I wouldn’t be coming home every night I have a date.”

He propped his cheek up against the palm of his hand. “But that hasn’t happened yet, has it.”

You loved this, the flirty and dangerous aroma in the air. It was intoxicating and you craved every bit of it.

“So what are we going to do about it?”

You leaned up and kissed him, and then that kiss led to another. Soon you had gotten up and moved into Shinsou’s bedroom. Your tights had been stripped down and your dress was pulled up over your ass.

Getting onto his elbows and knees, Shinsou readied himself to lick his first stripe along your folds and make you melt beneath him.

The week went by, like usual, and your relationship with Shinsou remained the same, just like usual. You’d each come home from work, him tired from training and patrols and you exhausted with paperwork and having to deal with bothersome coworkers taking up all your spare time.

Nothing happens during the week. The two of you laugh and joke around like best friends, like neither of you have seen each other naked, and you’re sure you’re happy this way. That’s what Shinsou keeps telling himself anyway.

You never seem to notice the way his eyes linger on you for a split second too long or the way he glares at your phone over your shoulder as you swipe left or right on dating apps. You’d think that if he was jealous he would try to distance himself, to back away from the trouble you might get in and the disappointment you’d find after each hookup. But no, Shinsou cares too much about you to let you go out on your own without knowing who, where and how you’re setting yourself up for disappointment.

“Hey Shin,” you call from the couch on Thursday night. You’re lying down with your feet propped up against the arm rest. Shinsou has to move them out of the way before plopping down himself.

“What’s up.” His large palm rubbed up and down your legs as they rested on his lap.

“I think I matched with someone who won’t be horrible in bed.” You showed him your phone, and as he scrolled through his profile you could feel the itchy heat of embarrassment rising to your face.

Shinsou’s heart seemed to stop. His eyes widened when he read the words “pornstar” and “Onlyfans'' in the dude’s bio. Handing your phone back to you, he kept his eyes trained on the floor. “That’s great. He seems like he knows what he’s doing.”

“Yeah.” You took the phone back and resumed looking through his photos. “He messaged me earlier and we have a lot in common too.”

Shinsou nodded. Why did he feel so weird? He knew that not every guy you matched with would be a disappointment. He had been telling that to himself for months now, but watching the nervous smile that crept up your face as you received a new message from this guy made Shinsou want to scream. “I’m gonna go for a run,” he said, lifting up your legs to stand up from the couch.

“Really? It’s dark out. Are you sure you want to go running?” You didn’t look up from your phone.

“Yeah I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, stay safe. Oh! Did you still want to watch a movie tonight?”

Shinsou froze. “Um, maybe not tonight. I’m not sure. I’ll see if I’ve cooled down a bit after my run.”

You looked up from the screen, slightly deterred. “Oh, okay. Have a good run.” You weren’t exactly sure what he meant by that. He hadn’t seemed to be bothered by anything earlier, so why was he acting weird now? You were sure you hadn’t said anything to make him upset and when he told you about his day, he didn’t seem bothered by anything that happened at work.

Rolling over on your side, you continued texting this new guy, a new sense of nervousness clouding your vision.

It’s Saturday night and you’re putting on your makeup. Your hands which have never been shaky before have fucked applying your eyeliner three times now. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous. You’ve met up with guys every weekend for months now. Could it be that this guy is different because he knows what he’s doing? Yeah, that must be it. You’re worried that you won’t be good enough for him, right?

Still, that didn’t seem like that was it. You were so excited talking to him at first. He made you laugh and you wanted to meet up with him so bad, to see his charm in person. But then you showed his profile to Shinsou and things started to feel different, like somehow they were falling apart.

You haven’t spoken to your roommate much in the last couple days. His usual pokes and prods at the men you tend to meet up with were replaced with silence. You haven’t joked around like usual or spent time together unwinding after work, and you were worried. It hadn’t been this distant between you since one of your female friends told you about a guy she knew who was looking for a roommate and the two of you met for the first time.

Since then, you haven't gotten anything but closer. You began your weekly rituals of getting takeout and watching movies and getting drunk after particularly rough days at work. Living with Shinsou was the happiest you have been in a long time. So why did that change?

Stepping out of your bedroom, makeup incomplete and dress unbuttoned, you peered into the living room where Shinsou was working.

He sat shirtless on the couch, legs propped up on the automen with his laptop balanced on his legs. His wild purple hair, which had gotten longer since the two of you met, was loosely tied back with a hair tie. His gray sweatpants were untied and you were sure that if he were to stand up they would ride low on his hips.

As you stared at his profile, you couldn’t help but admire how his chiseled face, adorning a pair of reading glasses, looked so serene as he stared at the work ahead of him. He looked calm, calmer than you’ve seen him in a while, and that made his face more youthful. Shinsou stretched out his arms and you could hear his corded back crack before he went back to typing away.

You ran back into your room and slammed the door. Your face was hot and flushed. Beads of sweat permeated on your temples. How could such a simple act of stretching make you feel so hot and bothered and worked up and oh no. How is it that you were so blind? You were in love with your roommate.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

You paced back and forth, rubbing all of the makeup off of your eyes in the process. You stared at your blackened fingers and rubbed them on your dress, not caring that it would dirty. Thinking back to all the moments you cuddled as “friends” and all the times you would lay together after a disappointing date, you were able to pinpoint each exact moment where your feelings grew.

You sat on your bed and watched as your hands shook. You couldn’t go on this date now. You don’t care about the guy, no matter how good at sex he might claim to be. The entire time, you’d just be wishing you were on a date with Shinsou. Granted, every date you’ve been on, a little part of you has wished it was with Shinsou. Every week you couldn’t wait until it was over so you could be enveloped yet again in his flirty aroma that was so, so addictive.

So that was it, you wouldn’t go on the date and things would go back to normal between the two of you. But would they really? What would you say if he asked why you cancelled? All you wanted were things to go back to the way they were. You wanted to bask in the flirty air and feel Shinsou hold you close and caress every curve of your body with so much love and tenderness.

You stood up and looked at your blotchy face in the mirror. Surrounding your eyes was a mix of black and shimmery gold swarming together. You wiped them off along with the rest of your makeup. You won’t be going out tonight so there’s no point of dolling up.

What am I going to do?

You slid off your dress and slipped into a pair of pajama bottoms and threw on a tank top. The least you could be is comfortable in such a stressful situation.

I can’t act the way I used to, knowing how I feel now.

You may have been an idiot for this, but you decided to face your situation head on. Without doing so, who knows how you wouldn’t go crazy living under the same roof as the man you’re in love with.

You stepped into the living room. Shinsou was still typing away and looking over reports, so you cleared your throat to get his attention.

“Hey, you about to go out?” When you didn’t respond, he looked up and his face fell. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you dressed?”

You couldn’t look him in the eye. As soon as you heard him speak and the amount of concern in his voice, you just wanted to cry. The sting of acidic tears and mucus welling in the back of your throat made you want to throw up.

“Did something happen?” He took off his reading glasses and scooched over, letting you take a seat beside him.

But you didn’t move, just kept staring at your cold feet against the hardwood floor.

“(Y/n), talk to me.”

You looked up at him and tears began rolling down your face. You felt so pathetic, that you would be crying over love of all things. Love was supposed to be magical, right? Not embarrassing and tear-ridden. “Can you,” you started, but you needed to take a step back when you heard your achy throat cracking as you spoke. “Can you give me a reason not to go?”

Shinsou adjusted himself. He was clearly trying to make out what you were saying. “What? If you don’t want to go then don’t. No one’s forcing you to go on this date.”

You couldn’t help crumble at what he said. If only he knew what you really looked forward to after each date and what you were really thinking about when you were out with these other guys.

Shinsou stood up as you crumbled to the ground and squatted down next to you, wrapping his arms around you. You sunk into his chest and sobbed against him. It felt so unfair that with his arms around you, you felt whole, like you were two pieces of a puzzle.

“Why do you need a reason not to go on this date? Is he pressuring you or something?”

You shook your head against his chest. “I don’t want to go on a date with him.” On one hand, you thought your subtle hints would get through Shinsou’s thick skull, but it seemed as though they were a paper plane trying to penetrate a brick wall.

“So find some other guy.”

Why was he being so dismissive? You didn’t want just some other guy, you wanted Shinsou.

“Look, you’ve found plenty of other dates in the past, just because you don’t want to go out with one guy doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.” He kept rubbing circles in your back. “Why don’t you call up a past hookup or something?”

You pushed away from him. “How could you say that,” you whispered. “I don’t want to go on a date with one of them.” Your voice began to raise. You had never raised your voice at Shinsou before. “I want to go out with you, you idiot.”

There was a moment where all you could hear were the little noises throughout the apartment like the ticking of the clock in the kitchen or a fly buzzing close by. Then, you slapped a hand over your mouth. You didn’t mean to say that outloud. You didn’t mean to raise your voice or push away from him. But you did blurt it out, and Shinsou looked at you with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

The hair on his arms and the back of his neck raised up like static. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if he should look at you with shock or look away in embarrassment. He was completely and utterly confused.

“Shit,” you whined from behind your hand. “Forget it.” You rubbed the tears under your eyes away and went to stand up. “I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Wait.” Shinsou grabbed your hand before you could fully stand up. You had never realized how small your hands were compared to his until now. “You can’t just say that and then walk away.”

He was right. You sat back down on the ground, his hand still grabbing onto yours, playing with your fingers. “Okay,” you mouthed, knowing you wouldn’t be able to get any sound out if you tried.

“Why do you go on all of these dates?”

You thought about it for a moment. You were never really sure why you bothered hooking up with so many people, but sitting on the ground with him, you had a pretty good idea. “Because we’re roommates.”

“So?”

You kept your eyes on your fingers intertwined with Shinsous. “Because realizing you’re in love with your roommate is shitty, so the least I could do is hope that after an unsatisfying night of sex, you’d be willing to provide.”

He stopped playing with your fingers and instead, squeezed your hand. “And I hated seeing you with these different men so much that any chance you gave me I ate up.”

You blinked once, twice in confusion before meeting Shinsou’s eyes. “You...”

“Mhm,” he nodded.

The heavy weight of tears on your chest finally lifted. You could finally breathe freely. There was silence among you before the two of you burst out laughing. You rested your head on his shoulder as your chests heaved up and down. When you took your head away to look him in the eyes, he leaned in and kissed you. You didn’t hesitate to kiss back and wrap your arms around his neck.

Shinsou dragged your body closer to him, so you were straddling his lap, and weaved his arms around your figure. He was a good kisser, which you already knew, but you had never taken the time to feel his passion until now. Shinsou made sure to tease you with a darting tongue and hands which traveled down your figure and stopped at the base of your hips.

You weaved your hands through his soft hair and pulled his hair tie out. His fluffy purple locks were so fun and tempting to tug on. Kissing him with this amount of love and emotion enthralled you, and you felt a little disappointed when he pulled away.

“Would you like to move this to my bedroom?”

And you bit your bottom lip before nodding, a smile creeping its way up along your face. You stood up and followed him into his bedroom eagerly.

After Shinsou closed the door behind you, he turned around and snaked his hands up your back. You giggled at the contact and let him pull the shirt over your head. You weren’t wearing a bra, so Shinsou immediately leaned over to take one of your nipples in his mouth. He sucked it until it puckered and let it go with a loud pop.

“You know,” he said, backing you against his bed. “I’ve never been able to say until now how truly beautiful you are.”

“Shinsou,” you sighed, taking a hold of his purple locks. You collapsed onto the bed and let him kiss his way down your front side. His kisses were rough but full of love, and you know they would leave bruises behind.

He slid your pajama bottoms and underwear down your thighs until they pooled on the floor at your ankles. “Everything you do is gorgeous, even the way you’re sprawled out under me, under my command just waiting for me to touch you.”

You could feel your pussy clench at his words and your thighs shook in waiting.

He kissed the top of your pussy and trailed kisses around your thighs. You watched as he hiked your legs over his well muscled shoulders while keeping eye contact. His long tongue darted out and he licked one long stripe between your folds and suckled on your little sweet bud.

You arched your back and let out a choked moan. Out of all the nights you’ve slept together, this was the first time you really saw him for all the love he gave you.

Shinsou kept his face right in front of your dripping hole just for a moment and let his hot breath tickle your needy clit. He chuckled at your squirming form and teased you even further with kitten licks and hands that reached up to squeeze your breasts as he dove in to lap up your juices.

Your hands grasped at his, keeping them firmly clenched onto your chest as he delved in deeper and deeper into your wonderful taste. You could feel your orgasm quickly building up. Your toes curled and knees jerked up, hips bucking your clit further up into Shinsou’s mouth. You let out a loud moan and sigh of relief and surprise when you could feel your juices spraying onto Shinsou’s face and watched as they dripped down his chin.

You had never squirted before. You could feel a calm wash over you as you settled down. Shinsou wiped his hand down his chin. “That was fucking sexy.”

He kissed your lower lips one last time before standing up and allowing you to scooch further up on the bed. You were exhausted but it didn’t matter. Watching Shinsou strip down and seeing his cock spring to life only made you want more of him.

He crawled over you and kissed your lips. He tasted like a mix of your juices and honey, probably from that tea you saw him drinking not too long ago. Whatever it was, it was addictive. “Are you ready?” he asked as he positioned the head of his cock in line with your opening.

You nodded, heaving up and down and running your hand along the side of his face. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Shinsou was thicker than most of the people you had slept with, and you always felt the stretch of him penetrating you every time he pushed himself in.

Knowing that it probably hurt a little, the stretch of it all, he paused every so often and kissed your face, allowing you to warm up before he bottomed out inside of you. You were just so tight and welcoming, it took all his strength not to pound into you immediately, to take it nice and slow as he rubbed against your clit with his thumb.

Your face was hot. It was odd to you that it had never felt this way before, that until now you had never been this nervous to feel his cock pulsing inside of you and to feel his mouth nip at your clit and nipples. You had closed your eyes and focused on your breathing.

Shinsou reached over to tickle the palm of your hand. As you looked up at him, he cupped your face and smiled down at you before he started to thrust his hips.

You squirmed and writhed around as he bucked deeper in and out of the hole that seemed to suck him in further and further.

He felt it was so unfair because he never seemed to last as long as he wanted to when he was with you. The way your aching pussy clenched around him so tight was euphoric. He wanted to let his dick bask in your warm, gushing cavern forever.

“You’re beautiful,” you heard him whisper as he sped up, his orgasm fast approaching. “You’re perfect.”

And again, you squirmed around as that cord built up inside of you and snapped, leaving you gushing around Shinsou’s cock and heaving up and down underneath him.

Shinsou didn’t last much longer. He came almost immediately after you did, feeling your walls clench around him oh so tight. He rolled over next to you and laid his head in the crook of your neck. His hair tickled your nose as you nuzzled into him.

“We should clean up.”

“After snuggles,” he yawned.

You laughed. He’d never been this clingy until now. He had never praised you so much until now. “What does this mean?”

“Hm?”

“For us?”

Shinsou rolled over to look at you. “It means you’re gonna sleep in this bed with me tonight, and tomorrow morning I’m waking up early to make my girlfriend a pancake breakfast. Okay, kitten?”

You had to keep yourself from squealing at the nickname. Instead, you closed your eyes with a goofy smile on your face. “Okay.”

[lotusss-flowerbomb]

Nice To Meet You

Bucky x Wilson!reader

Warnings: 18+, Smut (duh, so kids go home.), Godzilla Vs Kong spoiler

A/N: I’m trying to get back to it. I’m so rusty, so please bear with me. 😩

Also, this story has unprotected sex. Remember that this is just fiction and if he ain’t got no rubber then he can’t be your lover.

Word Count: 3,554 (My bad.)

********

You pulled into the driveway of the home you shared with your older siblings and nephews. You popped the trunk before getting out in preparation to get the many groceries you'd just bought. 

You were bent over in the trunk when you heard a man's voice. 

"Excuse me?" He called out. 

You stopped what you were doing and turned to him. "Yes?" 

"Hi, I'm looking for Sam Wilson, does he live here?" He asked. 

"Yes, he does, but he isn't here right now." You answered. 

"Oh okay, um, I'm —" he started. 

"I know who you are," you interrupted him. I'm Y/N Wilson." 

"I didn't know Sam was married," he said shocked. 

You turned around and pulled a case of water from the trunk and gave it to him. Then sat another on top of it. 

"I'm not Sam's wife. I'm his youngest sister." You told him and hooked bags onto his arms. "This way," you led him to the large porch and into the house. 

You walked him into the kitchen where he set everything down, thanked him and pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge for him. 

"I didn't know Sam had a sister. It's nice to meet you," he reached out to shake your hand. 

You grabbed the gloved hand and shook it. 

"Sam won't be back until tomorrow. He and Sarah went to get supplies for the boat a few towns over and they’re staying the night." 

"Sam has a boat?" He asked, confused. 

"What exactly do you know about my brother?" 

"Not much, I guess," he shrugged. 

"Wow, a man risks his life and has to go on the run for two years because of you and you couldn't take the time to ask him about his life or family?" You raised your brow at him. 

"Okay, I deserved that," he agreed. 

"Mmm hmm," you turned to put the groceries away. 

"Uh, I'll come back tomorrow when Sam's here." 

"How'd you get here? I didn't see a car out there." 

"I kind of walked from the bus station," he scratched the back of his neck. 

"And where are you staying?" You followed up. 

"I'm good at figuring those things out." 

"Right," you rolled your eyes. "You can stay here tonight. I have to meet my brother and sister at the docks tomorrow and we can just ride up together." 

"Oh, no, I don't want to impose. I'll be fine." He insisted. 

"Have you eaten?" You asked. 

His stomach decided to growl loudly at that moment. It wasn't exactly unusual for Bucky to forget to eat. 

"I'm gonna fry some fish for lunch. The guest room is the third room on the left upstairs. You can put your things in there. Also, lose the gloves. You don't have to hide who you are here." 

Bucky smiled at your back and followed your instructions. He looked at all of the family photos on the wall as he made his way to the room. 

He felt bad for the twinge of jealousy in the pit of his stomach at how happy you all looked. He wished he still had photos of his family to look back on. 

Bucky put his bag on the big plush bed and changed his shirt. He was happy you said he didn't have to hide who he was there. It was hot as hell with those gloves on. 

********

When he returned to the kitchen you were already outside lighting up the deep fryer. 

"Anything I can help with?" He asked when he walked out onto the deck. 

"Absolutely, you can make the salad," you handed him the ingredients and a knife. 

The two of you worked in silence until you were finished and sat down to eat. 

"Thank you for letting me stay here," he finally said. 

"Of course, you're Sam's friend." 

"I don't know about friends. More like coworkers," he laughed. 

"Wow, is that a smile? You should do it more often. It's nice." You suggested. 

Bucky turned red. He couldn't remember when he was complimented last for a non violent act. 

"So, why are you here, Mr. Barnes?" 

"Just needed to talk to Sam about some things and you can call me Bucky." 

"I hope you aren't here to talk to him about the shield. We tried to talk him out of it at first, but he made a decision and just like the rest of us, you need to respect that." 

"He gave it away," he said with an attitude. 

"Actually, he didn't. He put it away, there's a difference. And maybe if you tried to understand his choices instead of having an attitude about it, you'd understand why he did what he did." You matched his fire. 

"Either way, I'm taking it back, because he deserves it. He's the only one who should have it." 

"I agree, but I won't let you give him anymore shit about what he felt was right." 

"I thought Sam was the superhero in this family?" He asked sarcastically. 

"Yeah, Sam protects the world and I protect Sam. You should be happy you're talking to me and not Sarah though, she would've punched you by now," you got up and took your empty plate inside. 

Bucky chuckled and watched as you walked away. His intention wasn't to come there and talk about the shield, but he still admired the way you had your brother's back. 

When you walked back out you had two drinks in your hands. You sat one down in front of him and went to your chair. 

"What's this?" He asked, looking at the red and orange drink. 

"A tequila sunrise. Heavy on the tequila," you sipped from your straw. 

"You know I can't get drunk, right?" 

"Seriously?" 

"Yeah, the serum speeds up my metabolism, so I can't get drunk," he shrugged as he took a huge gulp. 

"I'm sure that sucks." 

"You have no idea." 

You sat outside and talked until the sun went down and then you went inside to clean up the kitchen. You washed dishes while Bucky dried them off and put them away. 

Bucky's phone was sitting on the table when you first heard the familiar dating app notification sound. You ignored it, but by the third time you finally asked if he was gonna check it. 

"It's probably no one," he said. 

"No one? You're getting matches like crazy. Let's see if they're any good," you picked up the phone. 

"What? No, absolutely not." He took the phone from you. 

"Why not? You could potentially find the love of your life out here," you sat down and patted the seat of the chair next to you. 

He finally gave in and sat next to you. Bucky opened his dating app and the two of you looked through his potential baes. He was swiping left on most of them so quick that you had to stop him. 

"You're not even reading their bios. Give it a chance, jeez." 

He slowed down a bit. 

"Melissa, likes long walks on the beach and playing in the mud? Next." He swiped. 

"Ooh, she's cute. Ella, an aspiring model who loves comedy. And look at that, her favorite movie is Robocop," you bit your lip to hold in your laugh. 

"You're worse than Sam," he said annoyed and put his phone away. “And it’s Robocop 3. That’s like the worst one.”

"Oh come on, Bucky, give her a chance she has two dogs!" You laughed. 

"I'm more of a cat guy actually," he said. 

"You're adorable," you continued laughing, “let's go watch a movie," you put your hand out for him to grab and led him into the front room. 

You turned on the TV and scrolled through for something to watch and finally settled on Godzilla Vs Kong figuring the action would be fun. 

"Five bucks says Godzilla kicks the crap out of Kong," you said. 

"What?? King Kong was first. It's only right that he reigns supreme in this situation," he countered. 

"Put up or shut up, Buck," you shrugged. 

He pulled the money from his wallet and sat it on the table. 

Halfway through the movie you were both talking smack to one another. Bucky hadn't even realized how comfortable he'd become. Your legs were across his lap and he was holding them in place. Casually rubbing circles on your thigh every few minutes. 

When Godzilla pinned Kong down and the fight seemed to be over, you jumped up in celebration. 

"Yessss!!!! The dinosaur for the winnnn!!" You danced in front of him. 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, show off," he chuckled. 

You finished the remainder of the movie teasing one another along the way, when it ended you went up to get ready for bed. 

*******

Once you were done with your shower you put on your pajamas and went to the guest room to check on Bucky. 

He was standing in the window shirtless with his jeans unbuttoned looking out into the dark yard. You stared at his back. Your eyes tracing his entire body. 

You shifted your stance as you felt your body starting to react to the sight of him. Your pussy was getting wet causing you to forget why you'd even gone to the room in the first place. 

"Everything okay?" You heard his voice break your thoughts. 

"Hmm? Um, yeah, I was just coming to make sure you didn't need anything before I went to bed?" 

"No, I'm okay, thank you." He smirked. "You know you can just ask whatever you want to know." 

You walked further into the room never taking your eyes off where his flesh ended and his metal arm began. You reached up to touch him and he flexed his arm a little causing the plates to shift. 

You jumped back slightly before running your finger down the cool metal and then touching the scar he had. 

"Does it hurt?" You asked quietly. 

"Not anymore, but I still remember the pain," he answered. 

"You're a nice guy, Bucky and I really wish that this never had to happen to you. Although, I can't lie and say that I don't think it's really cool." You ran your fingers over the metal again. 

He took your chin in between his fingers and redirected your gaze to his eyes. He's wanted to kiss you since lunch and has been doing his best to hold back out of respect for his friend. 

"Can I kiss you?" He said barely above a whisper. 

You didn't even answer, just pressed your lips to his. The kiss was needy. You'd both been craving each other all day. He let his hands fall to the small of your back and you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

Bucky picked you up and was leading you over to the bed when you could hear your phone ringing in the other room. You broke the kiss and he lowered you to the floor. 

"Shit!" You ran from the room. 

You picked up the phone and saw that it was Sam trying to FaceTime you. You hurried to answer. 

"Hey bro!" You said happily. 

"What you doing? What took you so long?" He immediately asked. 

"I was downstairs when I heard the phone, rudeness," you lied. 

Sam just looked at you. He could always tell when you were lying. Even one as small as that. You decided to switch the subject before he asked more questions. 

"Hey so guess who stopped by?" You said as you walked down the hall to the other room. 

You peeked into the guest room before going in. Bucky had put his shirt back on and stood when he saw you coming in. You stood next to him and put him in the camera. 

" Hi, Sam," Bucky said dryly. 

It may have seemed like a normal greeting, but he was really annoyed that he'd interrupted a moment he'd built up the courage to have all day. 

"Hey, what are you doing in my house Wall-E?" He chuckled. 

"I came to talk to you, but you're obviously not here." 

"Yeah, I put him up in the guest room for the night and we'll meet you down at the docks tomorrow." 

"Alright... You'd better not be getting sweet on my baby sister either," he cut his eyes at Bucky. 

"First of all, my sex life is none of your business. Secondly, there is no sweetness." You rolled your eyes. "Where's Sarah?" 

"You know she needs an hour long shower before bed just like you," he responded in a snarky tone. 

"Well, I'm going to bed, so tell her I said goodnight. I love y'all and we'll see you tomorrow." You said before hanging up. 

You put your phone on the charger for the night and when you turned around Bucky was standing at the door. 

"Goodness!" You yelled as you pressed a hand to your chest. 

He didn't say anything, just rushed over and started kissing you again. This time, even hungrier. 

Your tongues met and your body tingled. His hand gripped beneath your thigh as the other held him up. 

You broke the kiss to pull his shirt over his head. The few seconds felt like an eternity for Bucky. He never wanted to take his lips off you, but he did once more. 

"Are you sure about this?" He asked as he trailed kisses down your body. 

He was finally on his knees in front of you. Face in between your thighs. 

"I need to hear you say it, doll." He kissed one thigh. 

"Yes," you breathed. 

"Yes, what?" He kissed the other thigh further down. 

"I'm sure, Bucky. I want you. Please," you buried your fingers in his hair. 

He licked your clit slowly at first. Taking you all in and tasting your nectar. It had been so damn long since he had such a pretty pussy in his face. 

You could hear him moaning as he sucked and slurped on your clit. 

"Ooh, fuck baby, yes," you moaned. 

Bucky's dick was screaming for release from his jeans. It was pressing hard against the fabric and ready for your touch, but he wasn't done with you just yet. 

He spread your thighs wider and stuck his tongue in your tight pussy. He tongue fucked you until you felt your first orgasm approaching. You reached down and started rubbing your clit. 

"Yeah, play with that pussy. Good girl," he praised. 

You rubbed faster. Bucky stuck his tongue back inside and let you fuck his face some more. Your legs shook and the warm juices flowed onto his tongue. He moved your hand and licked from your hole to your clit. 

"Told you I was more of a cat guy," he smiled. 

"Shut up and share," you grabbed his face and stuck your tongue out to taste yourself on his lips. 

You pushed his pants down and tried to flip him, so you could take him into your mouth, but he wouldn't budge. 

"No, need you now," he said as he slowly pushed inside of you. "Fuck," he said in your ear. 

He paused. He knew that if he moved he'd embarrass himself for sure, but you were so wet and tight. Fitting him perfectly. 

Bucky buried his face in the crook of your neck as he slowly started to move inside of you. Allowing you to adjust to him without hurting you too much. 

"You feel so good." 

Hearing you say that made him pick up the pace. He rolled his hips faster and pushed your knees to your chest. He wanted you to feel every last inch of him inside of you. 

He ripped your night shirt in half and exposed your breasts, watching them jiggle as he slammed into your pussy. 

Now he wanted to watch something else jiggle, so he pulled out and turned you on to your stomach. He pulled you up by the waist onto your knees and slid his hard cock back inside of you. 

"Fuck me," he demanded as he slapped each of your ass cheeks. 

You obliged and threw your ass back on his slick coated dick and he watched your ass bounce in the process. He knew he wasn't going to last long like this. 

"That's it, doll, fuck me. I wanna cum in that pretty little mouth of yours." He said. 

His words caused you to cum. Your pussy clenched around him so tight and you knew when you heard the soft, "Oh fuck," leave his lips that he was about to explode. 

Bucky pulled out of you and stood on the bed. He pumped his warm thickness into your waiting mouth while moaning loudly. 

When he was done, you let some of the cum drip from your tongue. He slapped his dick in it and you swallowed the rest. 

"Good girl," he dropped to his knees and kissed you roughly. 

He fell back onto the bed taking you with him. You laid on his arm and traced his jawline with your finger. 

"You're beautiful," he said to you. 

"Thank you," you smiled. 

"Should I start you another bath?" 

"No, I can take one in the morning." 

"Good, because I don't want you to leave anyway." He kissed your forehead. 

"Get some rest," you told him. 

He looked tired and you could tell that he sleeps horribly at night. 

Bucky closed his eyes. You waited for a few minutes before going to the bathroom to clean up. When you came back and laid down, he immediately wrapped his arms around you. 

You snuggled into his chest and drifted off to sleep.

********

When you awoke the next morning Bucky's arms were still wrapped around you. 

"Good morning," he said and planted a kiss on your shoulder. 

"How'd you know I was awake?" Your voice still laced with sleep. 

"Your breathing changed," he kissed you again. 

You could feel his hard cock pressing against your ass. His metal hand traced a cool trail between your breasts and down to your clit. 

You spread your legs to give him better access and then your phone started ringing. You rolled eyes when you saw Sam's name. This is the second time he's ruined your moment. 

"Hello?" You answered with an attitude. 

"Well good morning to you too, sunshine," he said. 

"Samuel, it's literally," you looked at your phone for the time, "shit, it's 10am??" 

"Yeah, exactly you slept in. Get your butt up." 

Bucky didn't care that Sam was on the phone. He slid his fingers inside your pussy and pumped them slowly. Your body quivered beneath his touch. 

"I'm getting — I'll call you when we're on the way." You quickly hung up. 

Bucky chuckled. He moved his fingers faster inside of you and sucked a nipple into his mouth. 

Your orgasm was so close and then he pulled his fingers out. Your eyes popped open and the satisfied smirk on his face let you know that he'd done it on purpose. 

"Next time, don't answer the phone, doll." He kissed your lips and walked towards the door. "Oh and don't even think about touching yourself." He said before he disappeared. 

He was out of his mind. You quickly grabbed your toy from your drawer and went into the bathroom. You turned on the shower and sucked the vibrator into your mouth to wet it. 

You put your foot up on the tub and slowly fucked yourself with the toy. Your eyes were pinched shut and you were so into what you were feeling that you hadn't heard the door open. 

Bucky watched as you pleasured yourself. He was turned on by the sight, but pissed, because he told you not to. He walked over and snatched the toy from you. Covering your mouth, so you couldn't scream. 

"Now, I remember telling you not to do this, doll." He moved his hand and nipped at your collar bone. 

"No, you told me not to touch myself. I used the toy," you said. 

"Real cute," he growled. 

He put the toy on the counter and walked you into the shower. He got down on his knees and started eating your pussy again. 

He should've been punishing you, but instead he was treating himself. Bucky knew in that moment that you were now his addiction. 

You gripped his hair while he held on to the leg that was thrown over his shoulder. 

"I want to feel you. Please," you begged. 

He wanted to deny you, but he simply couldn't. Your wish was his command. 

He stood and lifted you up, slowly sliding you down on his hard dick. He was sure to keep you against the wall, so your hair wouldn't get wet. 

Bucky fucked into you slowly. Enjoying the feeling of your slick walls. He wanted to stay inside of you forever. 

"I'm gonna cum, baby!" You mewled. 

You heard him grunt in response. He was close himself and when you tighten your grip around him he exploded inside of you. 

You bit his neck as your own orgasm washed over you. He finally let you down and the two of you finished the shower together.

Bucky had no clue how he'd break this news to Sam, but he knew he had to, because there was no way he wanted to ever go without your touch again. 

********

[wandas-sunshine]

Strike Three

Summary: Everybody makes mistakes. Your first mistake was telling your family that you were seeing someone when you were just as single as ever. Your second mistake was asking Pietro to fake a relationship to keep your family off your back. Well, maybe that wasn’t such a mistake.

Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 3,826

You didn’t have the best track record with relationships, you knew that. Even if you didn’t know, your family would have made damn sure to inform you. You knew they only fussed so much because they loved you, because they wanted the best for you. But they were such a headache sometimes.

You were going bonkers now. Your mother was becoming overbearing with her insistence that you needed to hurry up and settle down, and your sister was positive that she could handle the whole thing for you. She herself was engaged, so your mom agreed that she probably knew how to steer you back down the proper path.

And maybe it was the exhaustion of hearing them try to arrange a good relationship for you, or maybe the panic of listening to your sister talk about her new coworker (who was a very impressive man, don’t you know?), but for some reason, you went and said something so painfully stupid.

“I’ve been seeing someone.”

That was nearly a month ago, and your entire family was pestering you for more information. You felt bad avoiding their calls, but you were bluffing and you had barely gotten out of that conversation alive. Your sister was bringing her fiance to Christmas, so of course that meant you were expected to bring someone as well.

Avoiding conversations about your nonexistent boyfriend was growing difficult. You’d been holding out hope that you would find someone by the time the holidays rolled around, but no luck. A real boyfriend would have been ideal, but your frantic attempts at finding someone to play the part also yielded no success.

You had of course contemplated faking a breakup, but that would only further their idea that you couldn’t handle your own love life. You had dug a hole that you just couldn’t climb out of.

So with one week to your family’s Christmas gathering, you were sitting on your best friend’s bed with your head in your hands.

“I am so royally screwed, Wanda. Stevie is going to force me to go out with some accountant or one of Adam’s firefighter friends, and my mom’s gonna make me marry him. Then what?” You wailed. She laughed, finally looking up from her phone.

“Who’s dating an accountant?” Pietro’s voice made your complaints die on your tongue. He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. With him standing there having heard about your pathetic predicament, you couldn’t help the embarrassment that coursed through your veins.

“(Y/N) apparently. If they don’t find a date to Christmas with their family.” Wanda answered him. You groaned again. “They told everyone that they have a boyfriend, and now they have nobody to show.”

“I’ll do it.” He offered so nonchalantly that it took a second to process. Then you’d sat up so fast that you got dizzy.

“For real? You’ll do it?” You clasped your hands together in a silent plea, and Pietro shrugged.

“Why not. Text me the details,” He left you shouting your appreciation after him as he made his way back to his own bedroom.

A week passed by, and you had confirmed your plus one. You kept the information you shared minimal, just giving his name and saying that you hadn’t wanted to say anything until you were sure he’d be able to come. You were nervous about the whole thing, a whole list of things that could go wrong playing on an endless loop in your head as you tapped against your steering wheel.

A few moments passed before he finally came out with his suitcase in hand. Three nights at your parents home with your sister, and your friend who you’d somehow coerced into pretending to date you seemed like a nightmare. But Pietro’s presence was calming. He sat his bag in the back and settled into the passenger seat. He had the brightest smile on his face.

He buckled in and sorted out the music as you started on the drive back to your childhood home. The quiet between the two of you lasted a while before he broke it.

“So what’s our story, cupcake?” He smirked and turned the music down, looking over as you spared him a confused glance.

“Our story?”

“Yeah, you know. How we met, how we got together. The story we’re gonna tell our kids one day.” Your stomach flipped. What were you getting yourself into?

“Um, I guess we met through Wanda,” You started, keeping your eyes on the road and gripping the steering wheel tightly so you didn’t have to focus on how strange the whole conversation felt.

“And I saved you from some drunk creep at a party,” He started. “I took you to iHop-”

“And we’ve been together ever since!” You finished with a laugh. It was mostly true, everything he mentioned had happened, just not exactly like that. It made you feel a little better knowing that you weren’t lying to your family, just...rearranging the truth.

“See, baby, we’re gonna be just fine,” The sound of the pet name flustered you much more than you were willing to admit. You rolled your eyes and cleared your throat.

“Okay. But if we’re gonna make it, there’s gotta be rules.” You warned him. He motioned for you to go on. “Rule number 1; No saying I Love You. Rule Number 2; No kissing. Not under any circumstances. And Rule Number 3; No catching feelings.”

“Easy peasy,” He chuckled. He didn’t understand why you were so paranoid. There was no way he was going to let them set you up with one of their awful picks for you. No, you deserved better than that. So he’d follow your rules, and he’d save the day if it killed him.

The rest of the drive consisted of him playing music, and the two of you joking around like nothing was any different than it had been from the beginning. But you couldn’t ignore the way your heart stuttered when he’d jokingly call you by those stupid affectionate names, or the way your cheeks burned under his attention. The tension and worry lingered, thinly veiled by his stupid knock knock hokes and classic rock.

It was mid afternoon by the time you pulled into your parents driveway. You were helping Pietro unload the boatload of presents you’d brought along for your family when your older sister came racing out of the house. She squealed and bundled you up into a tight hug like you hadn’t seen each other in years.

“You brought a boy,” She noted as she stepped back, hugging herself against the cold. You bit your lip and nodded a little.

“Stevie, this is Pietro. Pietro, my big sister Stevie.” You stepped back and glanced at Pietro. He had the most dazzling smile on his lips, one that made your stomach flutter. And Stevie certainly seemed charmed enough.

“So you really do have a boyfriend. I was beginning to think he was fake,” She teased. You and Pietro shared a look and he seemed to be barely stifling his laughter. You glared, a silent warning to keep his mouth shut. “They barely told us anything about you. I can see why they were keeping you a secret, if I didn’t have Adam I’d be stealing you away.”

“Well, good thing we’re here for a couple of days. You guys can get to know everything about each other. But can we pretty please get this stuff inside before it gets nasty out here?” You begged, readjusting the armful of gifts you’d grabbed. Pietro huffed and took them easily.

“I can get them, don’t worry.” He insisted. You hesitated a little but he was already following your sister inside. So you grabbed your bag from the back and closed the car up to join them inside.

Once you walked in, you were met by the smell of baked goods wafting out the door. You kicked your shoes off and set your bag down by the stairs. Your family had already stolen your boyfriend- fake boyfriend- by the time you slipped into the kitchen.

“Your favorite kid just got home, but all you care about is the new boyfriend, huh?” You teased, sliding up to hug your dad, then your mom. Pietro sort of liked the way it sounded when you said that. Boyfriend. He knew he wasn’t really the boyfriend, but it was a nice thought.

“You didn’t tell us he was so handsome,” Your mom chided, giving your shoulders a squeeze. Your face flared hot and you glanced at Pietro.

“Don’t worry about me. Your family is great, they’re already trying to feed me.” He smirked. Truthfully he seemed oddly comfortable in the role, but you were glad he wasn’t freaking out. Of course for the sake of not having to date someone with a stick up their ass. But the fact that he was giving you his usual laid-back grin didn’t hurt.

“Why don’t you two go up to your room and get settled in. Dinner will be done soon. (Y/N), your old room is all set up for you two.” Your mom cooed, turning back to the food she was working on. You glanced towards the stairs.

“He’s sleeping in my room? With me?” You asked, glancing between faces. You were used to sharing a room with your sister on the holidays and whatever guys you brought along were usually put into her old room. You supposed that changed now that she was properly engaged.

“Well duh. Adam’s sleeping in my room when he gets here.” Stevie answered. You gave a tiny nod. Made sense. You grabbed your bags and nodded for Pietro to follow you upstairs. He gave a smile to your family and let you lead the way to your bedroom.

Once the door was shut, you groaned and leaned back against it. Once again you were asking yourself the same question. Just what had you gotten yourself into. The idea of pretending to be in love with Pietro was one thing. But now you’d be sleeping in the same probably too-small bed for three nights. That must have been crossing some sort of line. You could sleep on the floor. It was hardwood but you were pretty sure you’d survive it. Or maybe you could take turns.

“Piet, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t think they’d put us in here together.” You sighed. Pietro was too busy perusing your room to really think too much of it. There were still a few pictures decorating the back of the door of you and your family and friends. A couple band posters were left up, and there was a stack of books in the corner. “But now that Stevie and Adam are actually engaged...I’m sorry.”

“Chill, it’s no big deal.” He sat at the edge of your bed and you nodded. It was nice seeing him settle so easily into a space that used to be strictly yours. You supposed it wasn’t so bad to share it with him.

The evening passed much faster than you had expected. The worst part was dinner. Your future brother-in-law had shown up which helped to ease some of the tension. But nevertheless your family was all over Pietro. He reached over and gave your hand a squeeze as you sat down, and you knew he’d never let you down.

Throughout the meal, he complimented your mom’s cooking. He talked about his classes, and about being on the track and field team at his college. Within minutes he had everyone eating out of the palm of his hand.

The most startling part was just the way he talked about you. The way he’d just look at you for so long that it would make your throat go dry, or the way he’d beam when asked about the two of you.

“I just knew when I first saw them that no one else could compare. I love them,” He’d said. And he’d looked at you like he never wanted to look away. Your stomach did somersaults and you’d focused on the mashed potatoes you were poking at.

Strike one.

Once dinner had come to a close, you and your sister worked at clearing the table. Your mom ushered the boys towards the living room to relax while the three of you worked on cleanup. You carried an armful of dishes into the kitchen, depositing them on the counter and drawing up some dish water, but not before flashing Pietro an apologetic smile. He just winked and slipped away.

You stared into the sink, watching the suds as they foamed up. Maybe asking Pietro along was a bad idea. Your dad was becoming pretty buddy-buddy with him, and your mother seemed to adore him already. Your fake breakup was probably going to be harder for them than it was for you.

“So,” Stevie set a last stack of dishes on the counter and smirked. “Pietro is really something, huh?”

You chewed on your lip, giving your full attention to the dishes you were scrubbing clean.

“He’s sweet. And he seems pretty in love with you,” Your mom added. And just like that your heart was leaping back into your throat. Who knew Pietro Maximoff was such a good actor? And who knew you cared so much?

“Yeah, he’s pretty great isn’t he?” You smiled, a sick sort of despair clogging in your chest. “Too good to be true,”

With the three of you working together, the cleaning went by in a jiffy. Soon enough you were settling in the living room with the others. You sat on the couch beside Pietro as they all continued their discussion.

You tried not to tense up as he pulled you closer by your waist without so much as a glance. You slowly relaxed and snuggled even closer. Your head rested against his chest like it was meant to be there, and your arm found its way around him. He was warm, that was all, and he smelled nice...You were selling it, nothing more. Just selling it, even as his fingers moved to play with your hair.

“It’s getting late. You four had a long day, we should all get some rest.” Your dad decided. And with the way you were half asleep in Pietro’s arms, you couldn’t argue.

He carefully maneuvered you off of him so he could stand up. You weren’t sure when the two of you had started holding hands, but yours was clutched firmly in his, fingers intertwined as he pulled you to your feet.

“C’mon baby, you’re sleepy.” He mumbled. You nodded and said your goodnights to everyone before letting him lead you up the stairs. You slipped into your room and dug through your bag for your sleep clothes. Once you’d pulled them out you glanced up at Pietro. He chuckled and turned his back.

Once the both of you had changed, you laid yourself down, watching and waiting for Pietro to join you. The silence as he climbed into the bed was heavy, both of you deep in your thoughts and being exceptionally careful not to cross any lines or take up too much space. You were hyper aware of every breath you took, and of every miniscule brush of skin.

You did not have feelings for him. Sure he was handsome, and considerate. Not to mention how funny he was, and the way he fit in with your family better than anyone else you’d brought home. But it was cliche. He was your best friend’s brother. He was Pietro for fucks sake. Falling for him just wasn’t in the cards.

You didn’t remember falling asleep, or moving a muscle all night, but you woke up in a mess of tangled limbs. He’d slung his arm around your waist and nestled into your chest, and you had flipped your leg over his. He was warm, and you could feel his breath tickling against your neck. That alone had your heart rate flying through the roof.

You were careful not to wake him as you slipped out of bed. He shifted and you froze until you were sure he’d fallen back into his deep slumber. You took a moment, just admiring him all sweet and conked out, his hair a mess and a tiny bit of drool slipping past his lips. Gross. But adorable.

You got ready for the rest of the day and slipped downstairs to find your mom and sister back in the kitchen working on a breakfast spread. You leaned against the door. You could hear Adam and your dad chatting from the living room.

“Want a hand?” You asked. Your mom smiled at you.

“We didn’t want to bother you guys. Where’s the other lovebird?”

You rolled your eyes, but it was too late to hide your smile.

“Still sleeping. I thought I’d let him catch a little extra shut eye.” You explained, moving to help set the table while they cooked. Nobody said much after that, just talking about all of the family gossip you’d missed out on while you were away.

Meanwhile, your mind was drifting to all the ways you could make this up to Pietro. You didn’t have the opportunity to think much on it as he came down the stairs.

He was still tired, you could tell. But his hair was wet from a shower, and he’d changed into a charmingly ugly sweater that clashed with his usual vibes. It was endearing, you couldn’t deny that. He moved to stand by you, arm wrapping around your waist and his hand landing on your hip.

“Good morning to you too, sleepyhead.” You teased. He laughed quietly, but then he pouted.

“You left me.” You smiled and leaned your head against his shoulder.

“You just looked so peaceful. Plus I wasn’t ready to deal with you yet.” You dodged away from him as he tried to grab at you, giggling and stealing away into the kitchen again to grab the platter of pancakes. Your mom and Stevie shared a knowing look that you disregarded.

Breakfast, much like dinner, had gone without a hitch. The two of you bantered the way you always did. He stole a bite from your plate, and you took a drink from his cup in retaliation. As he finished eating, his hand found yours. You gave him a puzzled look, and he simply slotted his fingers in between yours.

The conversation lasted until everyone was finished. Then everyone was ushered to the living room for the gift opening. You and Pietro were still hand in hand when your mom stopped you in your tracks. You were about to question why when Pietro guided you to face him by your hips. Your hands pressed against his - rather firm - chest.

“Mistletoe,” He whispered. Your eyes flicked up, then back to his.You were suddenly very warm. You had rules, and this was seriously not fair. You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Both of you were fairly willing to call that good. Stevie, however, was most certainly not.

“That’s pathetic. Give him a real one. It’s Christmas, (Y/N)!” She argued. You looked at her, then back only to find that he hadn’t looked away from you.

“Yeah, baby. It’s Christmas.” He half-teased, hoping to ease some of the building tension. You thought on it, considering shattering what was left of your rule into pieces. But before your flustered mind could come to any sort of decision, you were being kissed.

You curled your hands into the front of his sweater, and melted against his lips. They were softer than you’d expected, and the kiss was much less demanding than you had thought it would be. When you pulled away, he brushed his thumb over your jaw.

“Sorry,” He whispered. You shook your head, but you still couldn’t look him in the eye. The urge to feel his lips against yours was a little too strong, and who knew what you’d do if he kept looking at you like that. You pressed your lips together like you could forget his taste.

“Don’t be.”

Strike two.

The gift exchange was exceptionally uneventful after the mistletoe ordeal. Your mind was still wading through the fog when your mom opened the last of the gifts. You were all about to sort everything out and pack your gifts with your things when Pietro spoke.

“Oh, I almost forgot something. Stay put.” He carefully freed himself from where you’d been leaning against him and headed for the stairs. You sat patiently, sharing curious looks around the room. You hadn’t talked about presents.

He only took a moment, coming back with a small box wrapped neatly in pale blue paper. You figured that was Wanda’s doing.

“Here. I don’t know if you’ll like it but…” He passed you the gift, and you smiled at him. You stared at the little box for a long moment before you finally took off the paper. You didn’t notice all the attention shifting to the two of you as you took the lid off.

“Oh my god, Pietro,” You gasped, your hand moving to cover your mouth. Inside was a stunning silver bracelet with several little charms on it. You carefully picked it up and worried each charm between your fingertips. “You shouldn’t have. I didn’t get you anything.”

“You didn’t need to. Look, this one is for that iHop trip, remember? And this one is for the when Wanda introduced us at the beach. And this one is for the butterfly exhibit you made me take you to. Oh, and this is for this trip, see?” He rambled. Tears pricked at your eyes and you giggled. You were in so deep, and the bracelet must have cost him a fortune.

“Put it on me?” You looked up at him and he nodded. There was a pause as he took the bracelet from you and fastened it around your wrist. You admired it with a lovesick grin.

“I’m in love with you.” He spoke firmly, and your heart skipped a beat.

“I love you too, Piet.” You slid your hand into his and he looked down at how nicely your hand fit into his. Like you were meant to be.

“I don’t want this to end,” He locked eyes with you again, praying that you really understood what he meant. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to build up the confidence to confess all over again if you didn’t. But he didn’t need to worry about that. You lifted your hand to cup his cheek.

“Then I’m yours forever, Maximoff.”

Strike three.

And there was so much to talk about, but in that moment none of it mattered. Not when the pretending was finally over, and you were having the best Christmas of your entire life.

[hwrryscherry]

The one where the reader is a singer

characters: HARRY x SINGER!Y/N

blurb: The reader is finishing up her brand-new album and as Harry comes to visit her on her last day of working in the studio, he gets to react to one of her songs, 34+35.

word count: 1.9K

author's note: HI GUYS! It’s been a week I think? Anyway, I’ll get back to school tomorrow so idk when imma post the next request but I’m hoping that it will be soon! Anyway, I want to thank y’all for the love and support on my writing and I hope that the anon who asked this likes it as much as I did. Never forget that you’re so golden and tpwk. AND ALSO, HAPPY 27TH BIRTHDAY TO HARRY!

    You took a deep breath right after asking for the track to be played again. To everyone else the track was perfect, but it was different for you. It just felt like something was missing and you didn't know what. And god, you were tired. You were so genuinely exhausted that if you sit up in a chair and stay silent for more than five minutes you'll simply fall asleep. You felt your eyes heaving at every blink of yours and it was only 5 pm, but you were in this studio for so long. You were inside this place for 36 hours now with no shower and no sleep. You did eat but now you were hungry again.Your shoulders were tensed up, and you couldn't feel comfortable anywhere. Not in the couch, not in the chair, not in the floor and not even stand up. All you genuinely demanded right now was to be home under your bed sheets curled up with your boyfriend of four years while taking many naps or watching many movies, but no, you needed to have this done. You needed the album to be done and were extremely thrilled to release it to your fans that were excited as well. But yes, you were so frickin' tired.

— Again... — You repeated after a long and sharp breath listening to some groans from your coworkers. You all have been listening to this one song for about an hour and a half now and you haven't actually changed anything yet. — I know, I know, and I'm sorry guys, it's just not right!

— Maybe you think it's not right, but it is and you're just making a huge deal about it. — One of your co-workers said. A girl, Lucy, one of your friends as well. You turned your head to stare at her face and gave her that glaze that made her shrug her shoulders because of it — Alright, I'm sorry.

— I'm not making a huge deal. It's just not right, and I feel like the entire album is so great and this is just wrong. Like... — You said standing up from the couch you were sitten in and walked to the table with the computers on to grab the one paper you used to write this song. You stared at it in your hands for a while as you read the letters. — See, here is the problem. So here it's "you drink it just like water" and then suddenly comes "so what you doin' tonight?", it doesn't make sense, there's something missing in here. — You go through the lyrics again as you hear more groans from the people in the room — And honestly, I'm disappointed with myself for the rest. I need to change it so badly, but I have no idea on how.

— No problem, love — You naturally said referring to his previous apologies.

   That's when you hear the sound of the door being opened. You rise your head to look at the door and see Harry, your boyfriend, walking into the room with some paper bags in his hands that contained burgers directly from In-N-Out, which was in fact your favorite Los Angeles burger place ever. He arrived in silence, trying not to make a noise for fear that you were recording something but you could note his surprised expression when he saw everyone was looking at him instead of recording.

— Sorry guys, I didn't want to disturb you. I was passing by and wanted to check up! — Harry said as he closed the door behind him and walked farther into the room. You smiled tenderly when you saw the figure of the man walking closer to you. You haven't seen each other personally in some days, and he consistently secured you so much spiritual peace, he just had such a light energy and it made you feel so good  — And also y’all had been stealing my girl for so long now! — He joked getting a slight laugh from everyone inside the studio. He approached you by wrapping your waist with one of his arms around your waist and sealing your lips together as he bends down a little.

— And Harry, technically she is maintaining us here and not the other way around — Lucy said in an ironic tone causing you to look at her quickly before letting out a deep breath and lowering your head by rubbing your sleepless eyes with the help of your hands, probably a negative result of sleep. Harry reflected the girl's words and then looked at you carefully before placing the bags on the coffee table that was next to the studio sofa.

— Why? What happened? — Harry asked encountering his gaze with yours as he crossed his arms and observed you raising your hand that contained the papers with the lyrics of your new song.

— I can't write a proper ending that I genuinely like! — You said, sounding frustrated to everyone in that room.

— The ending is good! — Another of your friends, Jaden, said as he got up and picked up one of the bags Harry had brought and then started walking again to sit on the sofa.

— Jaden, you in silence is everything to me! — You said in a mocking tone while running your hand through your hair — But you understand, don't you? — You asked Harry because he has experience with such a specific subject — It's not that it's bad, it's that I don't feel like it's ready!

— I get it! But have you already recorded? — Harry asked softly in his understanding tone. He more than anyone in this room comprehended exactly what you were feeling and he would do his best to help you since you did the same with him so many times before.

— Yes, twenty times! — Jaden murmured a little before taking a bite of one of the burgers that Harry had brought. Harry couldn't hold back the laugh when he heard the boy, as they knew each other well and Harry knew all his sassiness was based on nothing more than hunger.

— Let me hear it, so I can have some ideas to help! — Harry said looking at you, and then noticing your reaction. Your eyes widened at the man's request. It wasn't fear. It was just an apprehension and that made Harry extremely curious  — What? 

— Well... It's a little... — You said in a lower tone seeking your words.

— Promiscuous and indulgent! — Lucy and Jaden completed your sentence making Harry look at her and the boy sitting on the sofa and then Harry raised one of his eyebrows and looked at you with a smirk on his lips.

— Uh, is it about me? — Harry asked in a mocking tone, waiting for the answer that would raise his ego, of course.

— Look, let's not specify anything — You said quickly and nervously looking at the smirk on your boyfriend's face — Ok, Trevor, play the song right for the love of god! — You said getting a laugh out of Harry, Jaden and Lucy due to your despair in ending this matter.

    And Trevor did as you asked and put the song on. You sat down on the bench near the wall and crossed your arms while watching Harry's reactions. The soon as the song started everyone could notice your voice and the rhythm of it that matched the beat.

You may think I’m crazy

The way I’ve been craving

If I put it quite plainly

Just give me them babies

    You could notice Harry bouncing his head on the rhythm of the song as a sign that he liked it because you knew that he only did that to songs that he likes. And you also noticed a small smile when he listened to the end of this verse because he did remember all the times you both had talked about having a baby before.

So what you doin’ tonight?

Better say doin’ you right

Watching movies 

But we ain’t seen a thing tonight

    Again you noticed the smirk and you did smirk as well because you both knew the lack of ability that you had to watch any movie that lasted longer than two hours and you almost ended not watching anything.

I don’t wanna keep you up

But assuming can you keep it up

‘Cause then I’d like to keep you up

So maybe Imma keep you up

Boy

    Harry wasn’t looking at you, though. He was looking at the floor while bouncing his head and paying attention to the song as he was trying to catch the vibe of it and honestly you don’t know if it’s the song that had this vibe but he was looking way too hot to handle at this moment.

I’ve been drinking coffe

And I’ve been eating healthy

Know I get squeaky, yeah

Saving all my energy

    Now the chorus was about to start and you were actually excited and nervous to see Harry’s reaction of it. You two have been dating for four years now. He probably understood any little detail of this song more than anyone else.

Can you stay up all night?

F**k me till the daylight

34 35

    You started to hold back your laugh as Harry lifted his head up fastly with winded eyes and a surprised look so he could face you. It wasn’t actually your style to write songs that promiscuous so he was actually surprised at it even though he loved it. He had a smile on his face though and so did you. 

    The song kept playing as the words repeated itself and it stopped just after the second chorus so Harry passed his hands through his hair as you waited for his opinion on it. Honestly, Harry’s opinion about your music is extremely important to you because you cherish and admire him way too much and love his songs so you hope that he does too with yours.

— So... What do you think? — You asked anxiously waiting for his opinion. The truth is Harry had already listened to all the songs on his new album except this one.

— I like it! — Harry said with a smile on his lips making you breathe a sigh of relief — Maybe I can help write the rest, but they really didn't lie and it's great. The beat is good and the lyrics are catchy and everything will be fine. The point, my love, is that you are too worried! — Harry said as he approached you, placing his big, strong hands on your shoulders and massaging them lightly feeling all the tension in your muscles slowly dissolving — Relax, it's amazing! You got it!

   With Harry's help, you finished the song in less than an hour. When you recorded the rest and listened, you felt that now it was ready and now you could go home with him. It was simply incredible to know you could always count on him and to know that while you were together creativity would be present and life wouldn't be boring. After all, you had each other and had the art.

[an-angels-blessing]

Sugar Baby

Song🐣🎵- N/A

Artist🤸‍♂️🎤- N/A

Warnings😳⛔- Fluff, Dinozzo being... well Dinozzo

Prompt🥺🔥- N/A

A 5" 2' black haired woman who appeared to be in her late 20's walked into the quiet office area wearing a guest pass on the strap of her black cross bag. When the elevator door closed, the team's eyes were on this beautiful ebony woman.

~~~~~~~ Reader P.o.v.~~~~~~~

As I walk into the room I don't see who I came here to see, but I can recognize a few members from Jethros description. As I walk over to the group of NCIS agents, who I believe is Dinozzo, walks over to me, taking my hand in his own and kissing it. This causes me to laugh slightly, "Hi, what's your name gorgeous?" I try not to bust out laughing knowing that if Jethro saw this he would flip. Y/N." I give him a quick answer before showing him a smile. I could see the people behind him tense at his attempt to flirt with me. "Well Y/N, I'm Anthony Dinozzo, but you can call me Tony. Where have you been my whole life?" He finally drops my hand as he finishes talking, a cocky smirk planted on his face, not a Jethro smirk but a fuck boy smirk. "London and Married." Those 3 words cause his mouth to hang open and the 2 people behind him to laugh, loudly. I push his chin up, closing his mouth and pat his shoulder as I walk away from him, towards the other 2 agents. "I'm Ziva David and this is Timothy Mcgee. How can we help you?" The female agent holds her hand out for me to shake and I quickly accept with a smile. I then shake Tim's hand and then take a quick look around the entire room. "Is agent Gibbs here at the moment?" The three agents tense at my mention of their stoic boss. "He is down in Autopsy, he should be back soon. Is there something you need him for?" Mcgee breaks the silence in the room, causing me to nod my head. "Well have a seat Y/N" Dinozzo suddenly snaps back into action, point in the direction of what I am guessing is his desk. I take one last look around the room and land on the 4 desks in my vicinity. I take in all the aspects and finally spot Jethro's desk, there is a cup of coffee on the desk, and even more in the trash. I take a seat in his chair and I can see the agents instantly tense and stress. "You might not want to-" Before Tony can finish his sentence I grab the cup off the desk and take a sip. The three agents almost faint, and if the situation was different I would have laughed. Before the agents could get me out of his seat, Jethro exits the elevator. "What the hell are the three of you looking at?" I'm guessing that he hasn't seen me by his words but when he does, I could see his struggle to not smile, which makes me smile. "Boss, she was looking for you and she didn't know it was your desk." Tony goes into a frenzy trying to get his boss to not kill me.

This recieves him a smack to the back of the head, before Jethro grabs the cup out of my hand and takes a sip, shocking the agents. "You should have seen it J, Tony tried to flirt with me." A giggle escapes before I can even finish my sentence, I can see that he wants to be mad but a low chuckle escapes as he takes another sip. If his team wasn't shocked before, they are now. I can see that he wants to sit down, so I get up and go to get another chair, but before I can, Jethro sits down and grabs my waist, pulling me down on his lap. "Does someone want to explain what is happening?" I know that all of them want answers but Tony is the only one with the confidence. It's obvious that Jethro isn't going to answer by the way he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him before picking up a file off his desk. I go to answer but the elevator dings and Abby walks out, almost instantly seeing me. "Mrs. Gibbs!" Tony's knees buckle at her outburst of my name, causing not only his coworkers to laugh but me as well. "Hello Abby, stop with the misses. I'm younger than you babe." She rushes over to me and hugs me, attempting to not anger Jethro by moving me off of his lap. "G-g-gibbs?!" I think Tony was still coming to grips with Abby's use of my last name. I try to stand up to introduce myself properly but he refuses to let me stand so I remain on his lap and lean into his touch. "Hi, I'm Y/N Gibbs. This man's wife " I rub his thigh, no one can see it, but the tightening of his grip on my waist let's me know that he had a reaction to it. "You're married to him?!" I could feel Jethro tense, I know he has

insecurities about the age gap between the two of us. This made me get extremely defensive, "What.... did you expect me to date you? Sorry, well... not really." Abby starts squealing, she already knew about us but she gets excited everytime. The sequel grabbed EVERYONE'S attention, causing her to quickly apologize. I could tell that Dinozzo wanted to say something else. "Speak Tony." He tensed at my tone and thought about canceling the thought before actually speaking. "So... Sugar Daddy?" This catches all of us of guard, but nonetheless it makes me laugh, I can't tell if he's serious or if he's joking, which only makes me laugh harder. "I have an IQ of 195, I don't need a sugar daddy" I can't help but laugh again. "I'm sorry, but-" Before Mcgee could finish his sentence, Jethro spoke and I mimicked him in a terrible American Accent. "Rule 6" He quickly silenced himself, "I'm joking, he's not. Continue Tim." I smile at the shy male, it can't be easy remembering Jethros rules. "With an IQ that high, shouldn't you be famous." I don't exactly know what to this statement, because I'm not famous in the way he'd think. "So what do you do?" I sigh, thinking of how to answer the boy, so I settled with part of the truth. "I'm a student at Marymount University." Someone else was about to speak up when my phone rang and I instantly know who it was, JJ, telling me that we had a new case. "L/N speaking." After speaking, I could hear Jethro whisper into my other ear, "Liar." The first words that came out of her mouth was exactly what I was expecting. "We got a new case, D.C. district. Call that husband of yours, last victim was a Naval officer. Meet at the table." I could hear Em and Spence in the back, talking about God knows what with how Spence's brain works. "I'm in D.C." I could hear slight giggles from my statement, they didn't know I drove an hour just to see Jethro. "Ok, I'll get Garcia to send you the file." After her sentence, she hangs up, supposedly to call the rest of the team. I knew Jethro heard the entire conversation by the way he released his grip on my waist. When I don't move, he looks at me confused. "I'll look at the file from your computer, plus... they'll be here anyway." He moves us towards his computer so I could use it, before rounding up his team. "We got a case, but we're consulting with the FBI. They'll be here in 30 minutes to an hour." I saw the confusion on his team's face, Jethro wasn't one to comply especially when it comes to the FBI, but it's me so.... whatever. "What are you standing around for. Go." His tone was less than friendly, causing his team to jump into action, it was nice being on the outside view, a few of them went to the elevators while the rest went on their computers. I think he noticed the smile on my face, because I could hear Jethro chuckle. "First time seeing it?" This made me giggle, "Yeah, normally I'm the one rushing to pack and stuff." He pulled me closer and leaned his chin on my shoulder looking at the screen. "You read it." He whispered into my ear. "Because you can't read or because you want to hear my accent." He chuckled at my comment. "Both, now read." This made me smile. "Murders husbands and wives. There seems to be quite a large age gap between the couples. The husband's are killed execution style, while the wives are raped and tortured." I begin to read the file loud enough for Jethro to hear. "Latest victims, Johnathan and Martha Waves. Jonathan was a Senior Chief Petty Officer, just got home after an 18 month expedition. No children or pets. Jonathan was 68 and Martha 24" His breath was hot on my neck, and it was honestly kind of distracting. Before I can say anything, Tony walks in with the keys to the van. "Ready boss." I could recognize that Jethro didn't want to leave me, it's rare that we see each other. "Go, I'll be fine here. I'll look into my case." He reluctantly nods his head and we both stand up, he kisses my forehead before walking away with Tony, McGee and Ziva following close behind. I sat there, scrolling through the file waiting for

either my team or Jethro to come back. Yet somehow, Abby got the message that I was starting to get bored, because when she walked out of the elevator, she walked directly to me. "I thought you had a case, why are you still here?" She sounds glad, but still slightly disappointed as she pulls a chair from one of the other desks and takes a seat. "My case is here, the latest victim was a naval officer." As soon as those words left my mouth, she got excited. "So I can see how you work?" We both giggle, we continue to talk until we hear the elevator door open. Out walks Spence, JJ, Em, Derrick, Rossi, Aaron, Jethro, McGee, Ziva, and Tony. As they reached the small area, they spot Abby and me. McGee, Ziva, and Tony all give me a confused look. "Let me introduce my team, I am Aaron Hotchner, this is Derick Morgan, Emily Prentice,  Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, Dr. Spencer Reid, and you seem to already be familiar with Dr. Y/N L/N." Hotch points to each member as he introduces them, before pointing to me. "I thought you said you were a student?" Dinozzo's jaw almost hits the floor, "I am, 3rd PHD." I smile innocently and I can almost see the smirk start to form on Jethro's face. "Okay, let's get to work." As the groups split off, we all started looking at the evidence we learned from the crime scenes. There was just something I couldn't understand, I think Spence and Em could see the cog wheels turning in my head. "What's going through that beautiful head of yours?" Em was the first to acknowledge my struggle. "Age gap." My voice was low and I was mumbling. "What?" Spence asked me, "Why age gaps? There always is one." As that sentence came out of my mouth, something clicked, but I had to be sure. I took out my phone and called Garcia. "House of Supreme genius, how many I serve you today?" I giggle at her. "Hey sweetheart, could you look at all the wives checking accounts. How much is coming in, going out, and where? Call me back when you get it." I could hear rapid typing from her side of the phone. "The accent gets me every time, how could I say no. I got you babe, Garcia out!" I could feel the stares from not only Em and Spence, but the rest of the team now. "Would you like to share with the class?" Morgan can't help but be snarky, like Dinozzo but cuter. "Why go after age gaps? That's what I couldn't figure out." I try to talk slow, but the anticipation of Garcia's call is getting to me. "And something Dinozzo said earlier made me realize something." They were all waiting for me to continue when my phone rang. "Hello," I could hear Garcia's chair roll across her floor, assumingly to her other computer. "So, the wives seem to be getting $4000 to $8000 weekly into their checking accounts. And they seem to spend it as fast as it comes. The first Victim, Cindy Washington, was a shopaholic, she spent tens of thousands online a month." So I was right, "Thank you darling. I'll call you if I need anything." I hang up the phone and turn back to the group. "Dinozzo asked if I was a sugar baby, which I'm not. But all of these women, are."

Masterlist

[sidespromptblog]

What to Do?: Chapter 5

One, Two, Three, Four, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten

Warmings: Angst, Logan says some hurtful things (He doesn't mean it), General Anxiety (Virgil), and thoughts of ducking out.

Summary: Logan realizing that his first mistake was seeing the other sides as anything other than coworkers. They weren't a family. They didn't even like each other. How had he not realized sooner?

Word Count: 2,552

Virgil had really had enough of all of this. 

The thoughts of his own head bludgeoned him from every side, anxiety crawling its way through his veins and making him itch all over. It was like he had just stepped into a bed of ants, and there was no way to make it all stop. 

So he’d had enough of it. 

Honestly he had, there was only so much he could take of Patton’s sad looks, Roman’s withdrawn attitude, and his own dour feelings that made him not feel in control of his own emotions. And before he even knew it, it was all going to be way too much for him to handle right now. Ordinarily, when things got like this… Logan was there to help him out of it, Logan was there to make sure that he looked at the actual facts and not the lies that he was telling himself and Thomas. 

But that wasn’t exactly possible now was it?   

Logan didn’t want them around, or in the very least he didn’t want them… period. 

But he needed help, he was man enough to admit when he was clearly in over his head when it came to his own anxiety. Usually he could handle things on his own, he usually knew what to expect when it came to his own fears, and he usually knew how to easily combat them. But right now… he really did need help with this, he needed a calm confident voice that would help him see the truths behind every scary thing that his mind was trying to conjure for him. Patton and Roman were too emotionally distraught for him to even think about going to, his own fears would just add onto theirs and just make everything so much worse for all of them. There was no way that he could tell them, let alone unload onto them. 

He needed someone who was smart enough to help.

He needed someone who was calm in the face of danger.

He needed…

He needed…

“Logan.” Virgil mournfully whispered to himself, wishing it were almost anyone other than the one side who wanted nothing to do with them. Of course it would have to be him… 

But considering how desperate he was… he could swallow his pride for the time being and ask for help. 

He could totally do that… 

Logan had even said in the past, that should he need some help in seeing past cognitive distortions then he could always go to Logan’s room to relax. The logical side’s room had that effect on him, bringing everything into focus and clearing his head out of everything that had tried to distract him before. He’d even once attempted to start learning how to knit in Logan’s room, as the pursuit of curiosity and knowledge had led him to cracking open a few books in his spare time. He’d only realized that it had been several hours later when Logan finally managed to drag him to dinner, when he could have sworn he’d just had breakfast almost an hour ago. 

He could go there… Logan had said that he could go there. 

He wasn’t breaking any boundary with Logan, not when the other had specifically given him permission to do something. 

Closing his eyes Virgil attempted to concentrate on sinking down from his own room, and rising up into Logan’s. He waited, trying to feel the sensation of calmness that was supposed to overcome him from just stepping inside of Logan’s room, and he waited…

There was nothing. 

Opening his eyes, Virgil felt something inside his chest seize abruptly at the realization that… he wasn’t inside Logan’s room, nowhere close in fact. He was in the hallway upstairs, one that didn’t even lead to Logan’s room.

Clenching his fists, he tried again. 

And again. 

And again. 

And… again. 

Everytime, nothing happened. He remained in the same spot that he had opened his eyes to, Logan’s room was nowhere in sight and he was nowhere closer to being calm. If anything he was the exact opposite now, an old fear rearing its ugly head at him. 

“Logan!” Patton had scolded the logical side, a hurt look on his face as he clutched the picture book in his hands. “Can you stop?” 

Logan had taken a step back, an equally if not more hurt look darting through his eyes, before he thought to cover it up. 

But Virgil had seen it. 

“Fine…” Logan had said, giving Virgil only the tiniest of glances before he sunk down and out of sight.

Ducking out. 

No… no no no! 

There was no way that Logan would have ducked out, no way on earth. He had promised Virgil that he wouldn’t, and Logan knew that he was too important to just go away like Virgil had before. He knew that Thomas would be a mess without him… didn’t he? 

Didn’t he..?

A sour taste coated Virgil’s tongue in an instant, “Logan!” He barked out, his voice shifting to match his rising anxiety, the eyeshadow around his eyes darkened to the point that it nearly reached the middle of his cheeks. He looked like someone had taken a handful of black powder and smeared it down the sides of his face, and truthfully… he looked awful. “Logan!” He tried again, forcing the tremor out of his voice and a layer of calm that he most certainly did not feel in that moment. “Where are y-” 

His voice choked for a moment, as he found himself blinking back tears that were attempting to rise up. 

Honestly, he had never known how much he would miss Logan if the logical side truly attempted to duck out like he had. Logan was stubborn, this proving it more than anything, and he wouldn’t be swayed like Virgil had been… at least not so easily. So if Logan ducked out… it was probably going to be permanent.

They would have no chance of-

“Did you need something Anxiety?” 

Virgil’s head snapped up so quickly he was sure that he had pulled some kind of muscle, he had never been more happy to hear his old title than he did now. Before him stood Logan, a handful of paperwork in his hands and the kind of expression that told the anxious side that he was both bored but also exhausted as well. It truly surprised him how badly he wanted to reach forward and pull that stupid logical side in for a hug, that was usually Patton’s thing… 

But still he refrained. 

Coughing into his hand Virgil looked away for a moment, “I couldn't rise up into your room,” He tried to explain in such a way that wouldn’t make him feel like he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Like a kid with their hand in the cookie jar. “So I got worried…” 

Something inside of Logan softened for a moment, as he took in Virgil’s words.

Like a scrap of paper pulling apart from being submerged in water, he felt himself loosening up a little upon noticing Virgil’s rather distressed expression and the caked on eyeshadow that seemed to be receding now that he was here. It was fairly clear that the anxious side needed some kind of help, that being the reason he was trying to rise up in Logan’s room to begin with… but it also being the same reason Logan had barred all of them from entering to begin with. He couldn’t just let them walk in whenever they wanted to, and corner him where he was supposed to be safe. He couldn’t… he couldn’t let them come in, and try to change his mind. And he most certainly couldn’t let them come in and let them see how much he would have wanted them to stay.

Doing so would be giving them the opportunity to just use him, walk all over him again, and then immediately forget about him once they didn’t need him. 

Truthfully he was very touched that Virgil had worried for him, and even more so that his first instinct was to make sure that he was alright.

But...

He had lost his footing when it had come to Janus, and if he really wanted to go all the way and not slip up again… he needed to double down on it, and not let up for a single second. But in order to do that…

Logan looked back at Virgil, seeing the confusion, concern, and the tiny bit of hope that still remained ever stubborn in the anxious side’s eyes. 

He was going to have to break Virgil’s heart. 

“I don’t see why you need access to my room, Anxiety.” Logan began, forcing himself to watch closely as Virgil’s expression started to crumple. “You are anxiety, and I do not believe that it would be beneficial to let you enter Logic’s room whenever you please.” There it was, that small glimmer of hope being ruthlessly crushed with every usage of the other side’s title. The very title that Virgil had clearly forgotten the more that they used his actual name and forgot his title more and more, with this Logan knew that he’d hate himself for this forever. Virgil had been getting better, and Logan had been one of the very first people who had accepted Virgil into the fold before he’d even ducked out. And now… now he was practically throwing that away, for what he hoped to accomplish..

He was a terrible friend, as if he was anyones’ friend anymore. That alone had been his own doing, he had ensured it well and truly. 

Virgil looked like he was on the verge of tears. “Logan-” He began only to cut himself off, as he took in a deep breath forcing the warbling in his voice to quiet. “What can I do?” He honestly asked, hating how much it sounded like he was begging. Holding out his hand his entire expression was begging for Logan to take it, and to let him help with whatever was going on with him. “What can I do to make things better? What can I do to fix whatever I helped to break? Please!”

No… no no no. He couldn’t, he could not. 

It won’t last. No matter what they promise to do, it won’t last for long. They’ll just go right back to how they were before, and you’ll be left feeling stupid and alone. Logan inwardly coached himself over and over again, forcing himself to not take Virgil’s hand to not even look at it. He felt like his insides shaking, just one bad move away from going back to everything he swore that he never would. He had said that this time would be different, and it was going to be whether he wanted it to be or not. 

It was going to be different. 

No more chances. 

No more. 

“You can help,” Logan began, hating himself for the stupidly hopeful look in Virgil’s eyes that he was about to crush again. “By getting this paperwork done, and letting me know specifically on these days that I have listed exactly what you think would be okay in letting Thomas get done. Once I know that, then I can finally get a proper schedule that we can all agree upon. Okay?” 

I hate myself… Logan thought faintly, as each word from him seemed to crush what little spirit Virgil had left. If the anxious side had any more desire to help Logan before, or to continue being his friend… then he didn’t anymore. 

Not after this.         

 Virgil though to his credit didn’t cry, he didn’t even look like he was going to shed a single tear in that moment. He just looked incredibly crestfallen, as he stared back at Logan, before his eyes finally dropped down to the papers that the logical side had given him. 

“Okay…” He finally whispered, his fingers brushing over the crisp corners of the freshly printed papers. “Logan?” Virgil softly asked, “Will this make you happy? Doing this? Acting like this? Becoming this?” 

For a second Logan felt himself stiffen, he wasn’t… he wasn’t becoming anything that the others hadn’t already made him in their minds. He had already been too boring and typical to Roman, so he never even bothered to even try to listen to him anymore. He had been happy when Logan’s schedule hadn’t worked out, because it had benefited him. The same went for Patton, as much as the moral side would try to deny it. He had never understood him, and constantly tried to undermine him when he was attempting to make a point. And Virgil… 

Logan stared back at Virgil, “I will be satisfied, once you get that work done yes. But as for the other things…” He looked Virgil up and down, trying to shove the hurt down as far as it would go. “I don’t think that you have much room to talk about that… Anxiety.” With that being said, Logan turned on his heel trying desperately to tell himself that he wasn’t running away from Virgil’s other questions. “Have a good night.” 

Logan was gone. 

And now Virgil was alone, staring down at the sheets of paper that were steadily getting more and more crumpled as he clenched his fists. His chest heaved, and he tried so very hard to hold in the sob that was curling up inside of him. But even he couldn’t stop the trembling of his bottom lip, and the way that the world through his eyes clouded around him as the tears welled up. Before he even knew it, a tiny whimper fell from his lips, and a smattering of wet droplets landed on the papers that Logan had given him. He felt more alone now than he had in a very very long time, the loss of Logan as a friend felt as if he had ripped out some part of him leaving a big gaping wound in his chest. 

Something inside him told him that he deserved it.

But another part told him that he didn’t know why, even though he had the tiniest inkling as to why. 

Logan was gone… 

Gone.. gone.. Gone..

Gone.

The sob that had been building in Virgil’s chest finally burst free, and without thinking he clutched the bundles of papers close to his chest. As if those very papers were everything that made up Logan, and by holding them close he still had Logan with him. The tears were coming faster now, he could feel the thickness of his eyeshadow running down his face and completely staining his cheeks with dark watery lines. But he didn't care, there was a kind of solace in crying as hard as he was crying. As if letting out all of the emotions he had been building up during the past couple of days was any better than continuously letting it out like Patton was. 

So he cried and he cried. 

Until he felt a firm hand land on his shoulder.

Snapping his head up, Virgil felt his eyes widen exponentially at the person that was standing there just behind him. 

With steely dark eyes staring down at him, Remus looked at him with something akin to pity.

“Hey...”

[fandom-blackhole]

Sinful Sunday

AN: Oh boy....guys, I just want to say that this month has left me very frustrated, and I apologize for the first THOT, but at the same time, I am not sorry because at least to me it is VERY hot. Anyway, I hope this week treats you all well, and I hope this week goes smoothly for me, but if you all hear screaming and dull thuds, it's just me bashing my head in trying not to kill someone :). Love you all, and!!!! We hit 666 followers last night so this week we will be doing supernatural asks starting today until Friday!!! Thank you all!!

Pairings: Modern!Boba Fett x Reader, Commander Fox x Reader

Sinful Sunday Masterlist

Boba Fett x Reader

This is ENTIRELY self-indulgent, and completely revolves around how my work is gonna go, and how I wish a certain bounty hunter would come and give me some stress relief…

This job was going to be the death of you. Wait no, a select few high school students and your asshole supervisor were going to be the death of you. When you signed up to supervise this summer program you had not expected it to go so far south. Hell, you'd been in the program when you were in high school and it was never this bad, so why was it your luck that it was when you were on the adult side of things that everything just went by the wayside. 

When you were in the program all of the adults got along, the head never accused the others of being rude, targeting the students, or being power-hungry like yours was now. When you were in the program, sure there was drama, I mean its high school students what did you expect, but never this bad, and never in multiple different groups, it was usually one, but now it seemed like all but five of the students were at each other's throats for one thing or another. And honestly, if it were up to you at this point, you'd be getting paid more for doing your supervisor's job for him, and you wouldn't be going on the end of the month trip, but you had to go on the trip to get paid and there was no way you were going to be getting more money at this point.

It was fine though, you only had to work with that asshole prick and with the students for 5 more days… 24/5…. before you were home free….to start prepping for university. You know what, this adult ingredient thing is not your cup of tea and you wanted out, fuck.

The first day of the trip went relatively ok, you only had to yell at the boys a couple of hundred times, and pop several headache pills while your supervisor continued to avoid his job, but you know, it could be worse. When you got to the hotel, you were all but dead on your feet, and the thought of having to be up at an ungodly hour the next morning had you groaning, but collecting your room key from your head boss with a smile anyway.

What you hadn't expected was one of the girls' meltdown, nor when you were tiredly trying to calm her and keep your temper at bay for her to shove you hard, and while on already unsteady feet to stumble backward and trip over a foot and start to fall. You gasped and reached out to catch yourself, as well as the foot's owner grabbing you, resulting in a very awkward position of you grabbing the man's suit jacket, while he held you in what looked to be a very low dip, almost like the two of you had been dancing.

You immediately felt heat rise in your face as your eyes widened in shock and you started apologizing all over yourself as you righted yourself and bent over to grab your bag. The stranger just laughed and steadied you, before pushing your chin to look at him saying, "It’s fine, little one, no harm done. Don't worry about it, you seem to have your hands full already."

As he finished speaking, he motioned his head over to where two of the three of your head bosses were talking to the girl that shoved you, and the third was walking over to check on you. They said your name and asked frantically, "Are you alright? We are taking care of the situation, feel free to sit down if you need to."

"I'm fine, I promise. Mr….."

"Fett, Boba Fett," the stranger supplied and reached over to shake your boss' hand, and much to your shame you couldn't help but gulp at how Mr. Fett's hand dwarfed your bosses. Clearing your throat you smiled at your boss as they nodded and left, and continued, "Mr. Fett so graciously, saved me from the fall I would have had onto these stone floors," then turning to Mr. Fett, you smiled at him, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes made contact with his swirling eyes that reminded you of the enticing smoky quartz you had at home, "Thank you very much, Mr. Fett, I am more thankful for your quick reflexes than I can express."

"Please, Mr. Fett was my father, Boba is quite alright, and you don't need to thank me, I would have felt guilty if I had not been able to catch you in time."

“Well still, Mr,” as you started Mr. Fett narrowed his eyes at you with a glint in his eyes, that made you smile and look down, “Boba, thank you.”

With that, you looked up and met his eyes one last time, before nodding and walking away, flushing from head to toe as you walked into the elevator and turned to find him still watching you with a smile. Once the doors finally shut you let out a shuddering breath and wrapped your arms around yourself as you waited for your floor. You weren’t sure if it was the stress you had been under this past month, or if it was a good-looking man saving you from getting injured, but you couldn’t get Boba Fett’s face or voice out of your mind. You should really blame being so touch starved for the way you replayed the way he had looked at you, his eyes aglow with something that was more than just friendly, from the way your mind rolled over the way his lips had spoken each rumbling word, and as you walked into your room and collapsed back onto the bed your groaned knowing that tonight it was going to be hard not to touch yourself to the thought of the man who had been nothing but kind to you.

It wasn’t until later, as you were saying good night to your colleagues and your bosses after taping the students’ doors for the night that you saw him again. You had been headed to your room, listening to each of the rooms as you passed making sure none of the kids were being loud or making too much noise. You were so caught up in listening, that you again ran into Boba, and as you apologized and looked up you felt the flush from earlier returning to your face. 

“Mr. Fett I am so sorry! I should have been paying attention to where I was walking!”

“Little one, what did I tell you, you only have to call me Boba,” he waited until you nodded, before tilting your chin up with his finger again and continued, “Good, now tell me. Are you done working for the night?”

His gaze was engulfing and made your mouth go dry, stealing all the words from your mouth so you only nodded, and melted when Boba’s lips turned up into a smile. Then, surprising you, even more, he leaned down and sealed your lips together in a consuming kiss that stole your breath and pulled a whimper out of you. When Boba pulled back from the kiss, he didn’t move far, staying close enough, that his lips brushed yours as he spoke.

“Little one, I have to say that I have been thinking about you since I saw you, even before you literally fell for me,” he chuckled as he pressed another kiss to your lips, before saying, “and I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t ask. Little one, I would love to treat you right tonight, if you would let me?”

The second the words left his lips, your eyes shot open, not having realized they had fallen closed in the soft moment. Only when they were open, you found Boba’s eye burning with desire and a promise that had you shuddering out a yes, before your brain could even process what was happening. You, in a daze, lead him to your room and keyed in, as he crowded you against the door, as Boba’s lips graced along your neck and he ground his hardening cock against your ass.

 The second the door opened, Boba had you pushed against the floor-length mirror hung on the wall not far from the door. It didn’t take long at all for him to have you a panting mess as he alternated between nipping at your jaw, whispering about how good you looked in his arms earlier, and kissing you senseless. You moaned his name softly as one of his hands pushed underneath your shirt and squeezed your nipple through the thin fabric of your sports bra, before pulling the shirt off altogether and shedding his suit jacket and sharp green tie. 

The two of you were all hands, groping at each other and tearing fabric away as quickly as possible while sharing moans and groans through kisses. Boba had consumed your thoughts, to the point where you couldn’t even worry about your volume and the fact that your coworker may hear you through the wall. No, the only thing you were worried about, was the fact that you were so worked up that your hands couldn’t even undo Boba’s belt as you continued to fumble with it as Boba had you already stripped to your panties and was leaving red marks all along your shoulders. 

Finally, when you gave of a pitiful needy whine, Boba pulled back, and with almost completely black eyes from lust ordered you to turn around. The second you did as you were told, you flushed at the sight that greeted you. In the mirror, you saw the way your lips were red and shiny from all the kisses you had shared and from how Boba had nipped at your bottom lip. You saw how hungry your eyes looked and how wet you felt looking at the tiny bruises Boba had put on your shoulders where only you would see. Then, you looked over your shoulder and found Boba watching you in your needy state, making direct eye contact with you as you heard him fisting his cock and rubbing it while just watching you in the mirror. 

“Bend over, princess. Let me see that pretty pussy of yours.”

Moaning you did as you were told, even wiggling your ass a little in an attempt to get him to move quicker, which only resulted in Boba grabbing a handful of your ass before growling out quietly, “Patience, princess, be patient.”

Then he was pulling your panties to the side with a drawn-out groan as he took the middle finger of his other hand, and swiped it through your wet folds, and shoved it into your hungry walls. He growled out a few obscenities as he started to earnestly fuck his finger up into you, watching as your mouth dropped open into an O and you gave out tiny moans and pushed back onto his finger. Then he was pressing a second finger inside of you and you felt your eyes roll upwards as you moaned out, “Yes yes yes yes, please, don’t stop, of fuck, yesssssss.”

Boba grinned in the mirror and kept fucking up into you, making sure to scissor out his fingers to open your tight walls up to fit his cock. He watched as you climbed higher and higher, gushing around his fingers and sucking them back in with each thrust. He loved watching your face in the mirror, watching each twitch and facial expression of pleasure he was bringing you. And he more than enjoyed knowing, from the look on your face alone just how close you were to peeking. It was when you tightened impossibly around his fingers that he knew you were right on the precipice of cumming, and he quickly yanked his fingers out, nearly cumming himself from the downright needy and torn moan you gave him when he robbed you of your orgasm. 

“Don’t worry, little one, you’ll get to cum, but only when this pussy is wrapped around my cock.”

Then you heard him tear open a wrapper, looking up to see the condom wrapper in between his teeth as he rolled it over his cock, before spitting the wrapper away and making eye contact with you as he rubbed himself along your entrance, “Are you ready, princess? I’ll warn you, I am much bigger than my fingers.”

You just whimpered and nodded, only being able to think about how much you needed him inside you, how much you wanted him to stretch your walls. Boba smirked and wrapped one hand along your waist while he guided his cock inside of you, sinking in about halfway, before pulling out and thrusting back in. And he was right, he was MUCH larger than his fingers, you swore he was spreading you to your limit, but it still felt so good. By the time he was fully seated inside of you, and you could feel his open zipper and open belt along your ass and thighs, you just needed him to move, desperate for the friction and pleasure that his cock could bring you, so you ground back into him. Boba responded by pulling out until his cock head was the only thing still inside of you, before slamming back in and setting a brutal pace. 

Your hands splayed out on the mirror, needing them there to help you keep your balance as Boba’s powerful thrusts slammed into you, pushing you so that your head almost hit the mirror and your breath fogged up the mirror with every moan of his name. It was all almost too much, and your eyes slipped closed trying to focus on the rocking thrusts that were inching you closer and closer to that familiar edge but Boba was having none of that. He grabbed the back of your neck, never halting his pace, and pull you up against his stomach saying, “Open those eyes, little one. I want you to watch yourself as I wreck this perfect body of yours. I want you to see what you look like when I give you an orgasm no one else can, while I give you pleasure nobody else ever will.”

Moaning you cracked your eyes open and made eye contact with Boba, watching as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder and groped at your chest, pulling one of your breasts free as he impaled you on his cock over and over. In this new position, Boba was angled just right to brush against that devastating spot inside of you the one that had you throwing your head back and clawing at Boba’s thighs as you balanced on the edge of cumming. Only falling over that edge, when Boba’s free hand moved down and he circled your clit with two fingers a few times and growled, “Cum for me princess.”

And you did. You came hard, and with a breathless scream of Boba’s name. You clenched down tightly around him, your walls pulsating as he continued thrusting deep inside of you and playing with your clit dragging out your high before you felt Boba’s cock twitch a few times and he gave a few shallow thrusts with a curse.

You both stilled after that, Boba resting his head on the back of your neck and your head resting against your chest as you tried to catch your breath with his slowly softening cock still buried inside of you. When you both finally came back to yourselves, Boba pulled out completely and whispered, “Come on, little one, let’s take a shower and then get you to bed.”

“Mmmm, you’ll stay? Just until I fall asleep?”

“Anything for you princess, anything for you.”

Commander Fox x Reader

I haven't written Fox in a while, so I figured I'd indulge myself with a soft little drabble for him…

Fox was tired, no past tired, he was exhausted. He was past being able to function on caf alone, and to the point that he had actually listened when Thorn had sent him away telling him to rest and eat something. But as much as he had listened to his brother, he had also ignored him, and instead of going to rest or find something nutritional, he had instead made the trek across the city to you. He knew it was late, and you had no doubt been in bed asleep for several hours, but with being away from you for days on end after the newest attack on the senate, he knew that he would not be sleeping unless it was curled against your side.

It was easy to slip past the security of your building, especially since he'd down it on multiple occasions and once while drunk. He reminded himself once again, to send in an anonymous request for better security around the building, ask he climbed into the elevator and made his way to your floor. He wasn't sure if he had fallen asleep on the ride, but he seemed to arrive sooner than usual, and he stumbled out walking right to your door and putting in your code with a smile, having known the four digit code longer than it had been your apartment code, having had the number been assigned to him as a child before you took it and made it your own. 

He only paused at the door for a second to listen and make sure you were asleep, and his sneaking in had not woke you. After confirming you were still asleep, he careful pulled the armor from his body, it having been a weighted burden for days now, and setting it aside on the floor of your living room, before walking towards the bedroom. He knew for a fact, if he wanted, he could walk this apartment in his sleep, not entirely sure that isn't what he was doing right now.

Only, he paused again as he reached the bedroom, taking in your sleeping face that was lit by the soft glow of the bright lights shining through your bedroom curtains. Fox knew he could watch you like this for hours, you looked so soft it made his heart stutter. So carefree and free of the stress you held during the day. Your fave completely relaxed, nose occasionally scrunching up as you dreamed, and letting out soft mumbles that were indecipherable, but never failed to bring a smile to his face. 

Eventually Fox did crawl into bed behind you, and relaxed only when you pressed up against him, and in your sleep, sighed out his name. It was in that moment that he wished more than anything to just pause time and hold you like this until the end of the galaxy.

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[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 20: Second Assist

Characters: Captain Logan “Sy” Syverson, Shane Benton (OFC), various other original supporting/secondary characters

Summary: Shane reunites with friends and family, hashes out some feelings, and gets real with Sy. Can their relationship survive her trauma? And the threat that still looms above them?

Romance and Smut Abound HERE!

Word Count: 4500

Warnings: Mention of rape, alcoholic beverages, violent imagery…feels out the butt.

Author’s Note: You guys are so splendid and beautiful! I can’t thank you enough for your support and encouragement to finish this piece. First, welcome to new readers! I know poor Henry’s injury and subsequent physiotherapy has driven some of you here, and while I’m sorry for him, I’m glad I can consider myself something of a pioneer in this particular genre and provide you some help for your newfound thirst. To my OG readers, it is to you I owe this entire work, parts written and incomplete, and I hope an eventual book deal. I mean to mention you in my acknowledgements, should this ever reach a willing publisher. You’ve inspired me so supremely that I cannot quantify it, even with the words I hold so dear.

Since my last chapter was posted, we’ve said a relieved goodbye to 2020 and a tentative hello to 2021. To be honest, this year has started out worse than last year. Lots of bad weather in my area this winter, my sister is currently on her way to a new life in another state, and my grandmother, the last grandparent I had, passed away in February. Those last two things have been especially difficult to shake off and recover from, both coming to fruition pretty suddenly. Amongst all that, I’ve been pretty distracted by my other fandoms, especially Marvel, and I’ve been reading a killer book series that I’m utterly in love with. (The Throne of Glass novels by Sarah J. Maas. 10/10 recommend.) But I knew I needed to get back into Shane and Sy’s story, especially given the new and rekindled interest in the subject matter. In all honesty, I’ve had most of it written for months. It’s just been a matter of finishing it off to set up the rest of the story.

I really hope you all enjoy Chapter 20, Second Assist, and would love your feedback and notes. You are all so important to this story, and your notes, reblogs, and comments are cherished. Thank you so much for reading! Love from Hannah!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism. This is an original work by me, Hannah. Please reblog if you wish to share. Please do not repost either in whole or part, as the work of anyone but myself. Thanks so much for reading!

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X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Shane woke in her warm bed, late morning sun streaming in through her sheer curtains, the heavier drapes parted to let in the light. She wished she'd remembered to close them before now. She really was not ready to be awake.

She was sore. Achy. Her sleep had been fitful and full of shadowy nightmares and muffled screams. Beyond that, she didn't try to remember images or events. She knew the general premise of the dreams. It would take a lot of time, effort, or a miracle to make her forget those traumas she'd been through in the last week. Not even forget. She knew she never would. But move on from them. Accept them. And heal from them…even that seemed a mighty obstacle. One she was not sure she could surmount.

Through the open bedroom door, she could hear Lynyrd Skynyrd and the clanging and sizzling of pans, and she could smell bacon and freshly brewed coffee. Sy had left the room, but had not, it seemed, gone far. She gingerly sat up, stood from the bed, and donned her robe as she walked out into the hall and down the corridor to the kitchen.

The sight before her warmed her heart. There was Sy. In only his boxers, daringly frying the notoriously dangerous breakfast meat. Upon her entry to the kitchen, she could also smell pancakes, and she thought syrup, as well. He seemed to be warming a bottle of the maple unction in a pot of hot water. He turned as she stepped on a squeaky floorboard, and grinned widely at her.

"Mornin' sunshine." And she was struck by the irony of someone with such a radiant smile calling her sunshine. Especially when she didn't feel much like beaming. But she couldn't help return the expression, even through her pain.

"Mornin' bear. Did you go to the store?" She knew she couldn't have any bacon in her fridge, and she doubted her eggs and milk were still good at this point. But she also couldn't think that he would leave her for any reason.

"Nah, some of the guys brought over some provisions. Matt worked on your car all night, too, and filled up the tank. It's as good as new. He and Nate brought ‘er over as well as the groceries. I just had ‘em get stuff I knew your family wouldn't be bringing later. They've had tons of food given to them this week, and they're ready to share. You should have seen your mom loading me down with sandwiches and chips and whatnot when I visited them."

"I still can't believe you met them. I really wanted to introduce you personally." Shane's face fell. She would never be able to get that back. She wanted to cry. Sy had poured her a cup of coffee and sat it in front of her with her favorite creamer.

"Darlin' I’m so sorry. I had to talk to them."

"I know." she sniffed. "I'm not mad. Not at you. Just…"she didn't want to say Elliott's name. "I'm disappointed that the experience was stolen from me." That so many things had been stolen from her. By that monster. There was no other way to describe him. Sy growled. As if he could read her mind. He really just knew her well enough and shared her thoughts.

"Well, don't worry, we'll have a nice dinner with them one of these days, and we can pretend. Sound good?"

"Yeah, and I can feign nervousness." she laughed.

"And I'll pretend too. That I'm scared to meet your dad." he chuckled. "What if he threatens me with his shotgun?"

"I'll pull the ol' 'Daddy, no, I loooooove him!' line, as I throw myself between you!"

"That oughta work." he laughed and kissed her on the forehead as he stepped toward the stove and flipped a pancake.

As they sat eating their late breakfast, Shane's mind wandered. Nothing had changed on the surface, but everything was different now. This cozily mundane breakfast with her boyfriend felt like an out of body experience. As delicious as it was, as wonderful and comforting as it should feel, her guard was up. Even through her amiable façade. She was not the person she was two weeks ago. She was not the same woman who said goodbye to Sy at the base. Maybe that was the real transformation. Maybe that was why nothing felt normal. It wasn't the world, but her own self coming back into it.

"Shane?" Sy asked, gently, but it felt like he was speaking through a megaphone directly into her ear. She was so startled, she nearly dropped the half full mug of coffee that was paused midway to her lips. A bit sloshed out onto the table and splashed her shirt.

"Shit!" she chided herself. It wasn't a big deal, but she felt stupid jumping at the sound of her own name.

Sy reached for the closest towel, hanging from the oven handle, grabbed it and started for her clothes with it. She stopped him. But she couldn't think about why the intimate act made her uncomfortable.

"No, don't, it's fine. These clothes have seen better days, anyway." She pulled the towel from him and began to mop up the small puddles of coffee around her plate.

Sy seemed to note the stains already present on the shirt, as if trying to divine their history. She was something of a messy eater, so the battle wounds of many a barbecue, spaghetti dinner, and hurried breakfast peppered the now off-white SATB club tee she'd gotten her second or third year in college choir. She thought back to a huge room with high ceilings. White, cinder block walls, flecked tile floors, a beautiful, glossy, black baby grand in front of a long whiteboard with black lines to resemble sheet music. She thought about the mnemonic device she'd learned to help her remember what notes appeared on each line, and in the spaces between them. She pondered the deeper meanings and implications of these devices. EGBDF…every good boy does fine. She thought about the "good boys" in her life. She knew many. Her dad, her brother Ethan, Sy, obviously, her many male coworkers and friends…and honestly they did far better than "fine." They were wonderful. But she was letting the "bad boys" she'd encountered dictate her mood. Permeate her psyche. Tear her down. She didn't want to be like this. Then FACE came to mind, and above their purpose of indicating the notes between the lines on the staff, they called her to action. To face these newly minted demons with all the strength she knew she possessed, and she too would "do fine." But as with almost all actions, this was easier said than done.

She felt a warm presence on her left hand which had paused it's torture of the now coffee-infused kitchen towel. Sy's hand was squeezing hers gently.

"Shane." he uttered, barely above a whisper this time. She looked at him through tears that she had not realized had formed. He continued.

"Shane, what can I do, darlin'? I'll do anything."

"Babe, you're doing everything you can, and more. This…this is all going to have to come from me. I…don't know when I'll be myself again…" she paused, tears streaming now. "I'm…I'm different."

"You're not though." he reached for her face, but she pulled away.

"I am, damn it! Sy, I was…" Words had power. And the one she was thinking of had more power than she thought was warranted. She knew that uttering it would take away it's power…and yet mustering the courage and strength to actually do so…seemed impossible. She took a deep breath, and disassociated herself from the statement, even though it was about her own past.

"I was raped." She refused to cry. She felt it all again. She had never said the words. She had never thought it necessary. Everyone understood. Sy, his friends, and she was sure her own loved ones had made the connection. But she knew she needed to say it now to drive home the points she was about to make.

Sy, looked at the table, nodding, not needing to be told in so many words something he already had surmised from the clear evidence. He remained silent. She went on.

"I love you, Sy. I have since the day we met, on one level or another, and I believe that I always will. But I…right now I can't be a proper girlfriend to you. I can't…be with you, touch you, be touched by you, in the way we used to be. In the way you deserve…and I don't know when…or even if…I ever will. Not that I don't want to. That's ALL I want in the world. To go back. To be the woman who fell in love with this…incredible man. To make love with you, but…I can't."

Sy's eyes were full of tears, their predecessors already descending his round cheeks and disappearing into his thick, dark beard.

"Sy, I don't want to lead you on and keep you tied to a relationship with no life in it. You deserve someone who's whole. Someone who can be a fully invested partner for you, and not this broken, damaged--"

"You stop that, Shane. I won't hear no more of this kinda talk. Y'hear? You're my girl. My woman. My person. No matter what. You gotta know I'd never leave ya just cuz you aren't ready for sex again. You don't think that I would, do ya?"

"Well, you went to Virginia…you took that job…knowing the distance it would put between us. Literally and figuratively."

"Biggest mistake of my life." Shane raised her eyebrows in surprise as Sy elaborated. "I couldn't focus on my classes without wishing you were there. Wishing I could team up with you for discussions and hand to hand combat training…that thought got me a little too excited, if you catch my drift." He smirked, pulling a sheepish smile from Shane. "Then in that forest. I dreamt about you every night. I thought of you constantly. I could barely breath sometimes, I missed ya so damned much. I was an idiot. I was insane to think that I needed anything other than you. Any MORE. There IS no more. You're it. You're the MOST! The most important thing in my life."

The declaration hung like vapors in the air, more felt than seen. Tangible yet ethereal.

"And when I found out that you were missing…I was…well, I think I looked like death…and not warmed over. You can ask the program director I met with after I got the news. She could tell I was just sick over it. And as I thought about it on the way home, pieced things together, started thinking about who'd taken you, I got murderous. Shane, I have been in dozens of battles, skirmishes, firefights, you name it. War. But…the sheer bloodlust I felt thinking about what you could be going through…I've never experienced anything like it. Everything was red. Everything. For days. Until I saw you, alive. And then it went red again when I saw the fear and damage on your face." she could tell he was doing his best not to talk about the farmhouse and that basement, but she still flashed back to the moments before and after his appearance there. The moments when she simultaneously prayed to live and hoped to die.

"You don't owe me anything, Shane. I just want you in my life, and I don't care what your presence looks like. Romantic, platonic, or somewhere in between. I'm here for you. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Shane felt the urge to wrap her arms around her boyfriend, but could not seem to move more than one arm to place her other hand on top of his. She hoped the gratitude and love behind the small, but heartfelt gesture landed. It was all she had in that moment, no matter how abundant her affection.

~~~~~~~~~~

Shane's family's arrival was a complete blur to her. It was joyous, tearful, and the happiest she'd been in a long time. The moment she opened the front door for them, she was surrounded, engulfed with hugs from her parents and siblings. They stood in their affectionate huddle for several moments before Peg waved Sy over with marked insistence. He'd been standing by, observing happily, but not wanting to intrude on the familial reunion.

When they finally dispersed, John asked the two younger men to help him bring in groceries. The women headed into Shane's bedroom for a more private setting in which to talk. Shane filled her mother and sister in the best she could given the rawness of the wounds left on her mind by the events.

She leaned against the headboard cuddling with Gabby while her mom rubbed her feet. She had insisted on doing this thing that had always comforted her children, and made them feel much better when they were younger.

"Well, I'm very proud of you, pumpkin." The girls both looked at their mother, who rather uncharacteristically hadn't spoken in some time. Shane was nonplussed. Peg elaborated.

"You survived something that many women don't. You're talking about it now, which even more women don't. You may think you're broken, but you're just a tree damaged by a storm, but standing stronger than ever." Trust her mom to lay such wisdom on her. When she felt like giving up. When she just wanted pity. When she could only see defeat. Her mother had always found a way to encourage and buoy her and show her the victory.

"Mom's right." Gabby affirmed, and it was Peg's turn to be nonplussed, as the two women, though similar in so many ways, never seemed to see eye to eye. "It's true. Shane I've seen a lot of women come into the clinic in shoes very much like yours. And trust me…some of them…they don't make it to this point. You've got a long way to go before you're fully recovered, don't get me wrong, but you'll get there. You have us. And you have Sy."

"And then there's Sy." She diverted. "How am I supposed to plan any sort of future with him when…" She looked at her mom, and hesitated. Peg rolled her eyes.

"Shane, I know what the two of you get up to when you're alone. You don't have to be shy with me."

"Still…" she took a breath and spoke. "When I can't bring myself to…sleep with him?"

"Look at him, you're kidding, right?" Gabby chided, insensitively, but recanted at the pained expression on Shane's face. "Sorry, sis. Trying to lighten the mood a touch. Too soon. But seriously, I don't think this reluctance you feel will be permanent."

"And even if it is," Peg took over, "that man is out-of-his-mind in love with you, Shaney." She kissed Shane's toe before putting a sock on her foot. "He almost seems to worship you. Now, you know how I feel about using that term outside of religious context, but that is exactly the kind of love I want for you. Devout, and unconditional."

"But, mom, I can't--"

"Did you hear me? I said 'unconditional,' sweetie." Peg interrupted. "No matter what. No matter the obstacle. No matter the distance. No matter the circumstances. Love unwavering. That's what Sy has for you. I've seen it in him. Trust the momma."

The insistence her mother placed on trust had always ruffled Shane's feathers. Gabby's too, who she could feel stiffen slightly beside her. But Shane, for once, really wanted to trust her mother, hoping against hope that she was right. And that she, herself  wouldn't screw up the best relationship she had ever been in or was likely to ever be in again.

The girls had begun talking about some of the coworkers who'd brought food in the past week, and Peg couldn't resist remarking on the character of her favorites and judging the ones she didn't care for…oddly enough, getting more or less, the correct measure of them, as Shane saw it.

After what must have been an hour from the time they'd arrived, they heard a knock on the slightly ajar bedroom door. John poked his head in.

"Ladies, we've put a casserole in the oven, and completed various manly projects around the house--"

"Oh, daddy, what projects?" She cringed. She hated that the men had felt the need to "fix" things.

"Babe, your guest bathroom had not one, but two leaky faucets, your kitchen table seemed to be more of a teeter-totter, and half the light bulbs in the living room were out. Among other tiny things. You're welcome." he smirked his crooked smirk so similar to her own, and she returned it as if he was looking in a mirror.

"Thanks, dad."

"Anyway, lunch is almost ready. So, when you've finished your confab, let's eat."

Dinner passed amiably, Shane found a reserve within herself to allow some quasi-normal behavior, as long as you didn’t look too closely. She was talking animatedly with her siblings, making their parents and Sy laugh riotously. Shane noticed some odd looks passing between Sy and her father, but chalked it up to paranoia. She wished at least Gabby and Ethan could stay, but Heather would be over soon, and she deserved her own dedicated time. Shane wanted to give that to her.

She said her farewells to her family with promises to visit them the next day, and at least one more time before her siblings went back home, if she could work it out.

Sy was so wonderful the whole time. Standing by her, a hand resting lightly on her shoulder as they waved goodbye to the departing vehicle. He made her feel so safe. They went into the kitchen and cleaned up from lunch. Well, Sy cleaned. Shane was texting Heather about when she'd be over.

"Heather says she'll be here in about a half hour. She's picking up wine and pizza." Shane told Sy without looking up from her phone. She could see out of the corner of her eye, though, that he had just closed the dishwasher and was selecting a cycle.

"Sounds great. Do you want me to get out of here? Give you guys some time, one on one?" He asked as he dried his hands, wet from preparing dishes for the machine.

She thought about it, and shuddered. She played a scene in her head that startled her. In her mind's eye, she saw Sy leave and then moments later heard a knock on the door. Presuming it was Heather, she opened the door with abandon, only to see Elliott standing there under a flickering porch light, smirking maliciously at her and ready to overpower and abduct her again. She shook the thought from her head, but remained uneasy as she answered his question.

"Uh, no. Thanks. I'm sure she'll want to talk to both of us. She likes you." Shane grinned softly at Sy in an attempt to mask her trepidation over the thought of him leaving her alone for any period of time. She thought it had worked.

"Okay, well, whatever you think, sunshine. I don't wanna get in the way." He was wiping down the countertops. She felt so impossibly full of love for him, she was starting to wonder how she hadn't yet burst with it. She couldn't bear the thought of holding him back from a fulfilling relationship. He deserved everything she couldn't give him right now. And she knew she should make him leave her. Cut him loose. But she was, as she'd been since she'd met him, a weak woman. She couldn't stand the thought of being without him. Of him no longer being hers. And somehow worse, of not being his, herself. She would always need him for so many reasons, not least of which being her love for him. Maybe one day, she'd recover from this trauma, and be able to be who he deserved. To give him what he needed.

"You're never in the way, bear." She walked up behind him, wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed him as tight as she could. He placed a loving hand over hers, sighing and smiling, though she had no visual proof of the latter. It was just a feeling.

Heather's greeting was no less exuberant than that of Shane's family, but it was more joyful and less emotional, even though she was immensely relieved to see her best friend after so long. They talked as if no time had passed, and Shane mustered up the dregs of her former self to have one more interaction for the day. Thank God it was Heather and not someone who would require more. She wouldn't have it to give.

"I am so glad you're okay, Shane! Things around the clinic have been bleak as fuck. Susan is loosing her mind, Anita is beside herself with concern, and the rest of us just plain ol' miss the hell out of you. And not just because of all of the overtime everyone has been pulling to get your patients seen."

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry! I didn't realize…wow, I'm awful. I didn't even think---"

"That you'd be missed? Think again, sister. The place would fall apart if you ever really left. But don't feel guilty. It's the least everyone can do, and they've all said it themselves. We all love you, and know that you'd do the same for any of us if you could at all. Hopefully you won't have to, though!"

Shane nodded, eyes wide in agreement. She wouldn't wish the last week of her life on her worst enemy. On the worst person in the world. Except maybe the people responsible. Tit for tat.

"Well, I'm sorry my absence has caused extra work for all of you." Shane looked into the deep glass of Chardonnay Sy had poured her from the bottle Heather had brought. She felt about as small as the air bubble making it's way up the sloping curve of the stemless vessel. She felt a guilt that she knew was fully void of logic. It made no sense for her to feel guilt for being kidnapped. But she had always had this notion, this nagging voice in her head that told her that her misfortunes were a direct result of her decisions. That she'd inadvertently stepped on the butterfly that resulted in the monsoon she was currently experiencing, and whatever cataclysmic events she would face next.

"Why in God's name are you apologizing for this, Shay?" Heather's tone was kind, but still mildly scolding.

"If I'd never been with Elliott, none of this would have--"

"Bitch, are you a fortune teller?"

"No, but--"

"Soothsayer?"

"No."

"Time traveler?"

"I wish!" Shane chuckled. But she really did wish.

"Have you any real and proven success at consistently predicting the future?"

"I don't, but--"

"No. No buts. No howevers. You had no idea what becoming involved with Elliott could have done. Were there signs, sure. But you can't look on the past as a rubric to judge the quality of your decisions. You know that. You can only learn from your mistakes. And you have."

"Heather's right, sunshine. You really have learned. You look for Elliott's behaviors in mine and shut me down quick if you see 'em. You're not going to let yourself go down that road again. And I'm proud of you for it."

Shane silently worried her wine glass. It was hard to argue with such truth. But it was hard to agree when her own feelings were in such stark opposition. So she did neither.

"Well, I've preached my sermon for the day." she laughed. "I've taken up enough of your time. Oh, your phone. It's in my purse. I think it's fully charged, but I turned it off."

Shane thanked her friend, then Heather hugged them both and took her leave.

"Y'okay, bug?" Sy asked her after what she surmised was several minutes of silence. Minutes she didn't notice as they passed.

"Mmm…" she trailed off.

"Can I do something for ya?" And she really thought about the question. He could probably do a lot of things for her. He could make love to her until she felt whole again, even if it hurt her at first. Not an ideal option. He could probably get them both some new identities and enough money to spirit her away to somewhere her past wouldn't follow. If she became someone new, literally, would she have to bring that old baggage, those old scars, with her? Again, suboptimal. But he could definitely take the source of all grief and turmoil in her life far into the Missouri back country, somewhere not even the hunters would venture, some fallow field or forgotten cistern, and end him. Snuff out his spark of life like a candle caught in a tornado. Spill a fatal amount of his monstrous blood onto the unforgiving earth and send him to the Hell to which he was undoubtedly destined. But did she want that? Did she want another soul as a scar on that of the man she so deeply cherished? He'd say it was worth it. He'd say he'd take a thousand more for her. A million. That was Sy.

"Nothing comes to mind." She lied. And he knew it was a lie, but didn't push it. She was so grateful that he respected her, not for the lie itself, but for the reason she wasn't giving him the whole truth just now.

His phone went off and he picked it up as he stood from his seat at the table. She could only hear that it was Matt, the guy she thought she understood had the car place, before she heard tension in Sy's voice. Even from the next room, she could tell something was wrong, though he was talking too quietly for her to make out words.

She heard him suddenly shout a stream of profanities that he rarely said at all around her, at least, let alone together. There was a bang, and the walls of her kitchen quaked like the tectonic plates beneath them were shifting.

Sy walked back in, his face was red, as were his knuckles. He was shaking an injury out of his hand.

"What's wrong?" she asked, deep concern at his appearance and demeanor, suddenly ominous.

"I need to fix your wall in there." he grumbled, evading, without success. She'd be doing therapy on his hand, next.

"What's really wrong?" she repeated, sternly.

"That was Matt. Elliott's…escaped, somehow. He's in the wind."

Shane's heart became so heavy, she could almost feel it smashing through the kitchen floor and burying itself deep in the cement floor of her basement.

"Oh, God! No! What if he goes to the police!?"

"Fuck that, I'm more concerned about him coming after you!"

The two stared, faces full of equal measures of concern for the other.

Up Next: Chapter 21-Patient Education

[baubabble]

“Subtle Differences” Part I - Hotch x F!Reader

PART II FINAL PART

Summary: When three women turn up dead in Seattle, the BAU heads West to investigate the crimes. The reader, an agent returning to the field after an injury, is asked by her boss to stay close to him on this one. However, her feelings for her boss have only grown over her time at the FBI and now it seems that he may reciprocate them after all...

Word Count: 3084

Warning: Violence, Murder, Basic CM Violence

Song I Wrote To: “Drumming Song” by Florence + The Machine

Note: I seriously need to get better at summaries again. This is my first attempt at criminal minds. This one is either going to be two parts of three. Depends on what happens. I love Hotch so much but I also have a Reid imagine in the wings! Stay tuned for part two!

---------

George Eliot once said, “One can begin so many things with a new person - even begin to be a better man.”

It was early when you received the text from Garcia that there was a case. 

It wasn’t the first time the team has been called in early, but it looked like this was going to be a bad one considering the lack of happy emoticons in Garcia’s message. Figuring you were going to heading to the jet shortly, you didn’t bother with the suit. Arriving at Quantico in your jeans, you slumped in the elevator as it rose to the sixth floor. The familiar hum of the mechanism offered you some comfort but didn’t do anything to shake the fatigue that weighed heavily on you. 

Stepping out onto your floor, you headed right for the kitchen, pulling out your travel mug. As you passed the bullpen, you noticed that both Rossi and Hotch were in already, their lamps in the offices illuminating the blinds that kept them sequestered from the rest of you. Entering the kitchen, you breathed in the smell of fresh coffee as it brewed in the pot. You knew it had to be Rossi who had done it. You really did love that man. 

As you waited for the coffee to finish, a yawn escaped you. “Keep doing that and we’ll all start.” You turned to see your boss enter the kitchen with a small smile on his face.

Aaron Hotchner was dressed in his usual suit and tie, holding a mug of his own in his hands. You and the Unit Chief had met while you worked in anti-terrorism and had hit it off immediately. To anyone else, if they were to observe you, they would see two friendly coworkers, but you knew there was something else there, whether he did or not. When Strauss had invited you to join the BAU, Aaron was thrilled, but it only made hiding your attraction to your boss that much harder. Especially in moments like these. 

“That’s what happens when Penelope calls us in before the sun is up,” you said with a small smile of your own.

“Did you have a good weekend, (Y/N)?” Hotch asked, leaning against the counter next to you. 

“It was pretty uneventful,” you said with a shrug. “What about you? Do anything fun with Jack?”

“If by fun you mean Jack having a fever and two very sleepless nights, then yes,” Aaron said and you could see the exhaustion that also weighed on his shoulders. 

“Oh no,” you said, “how’s he doing now?”

“Better,” said Hotch. “His aunt is going to watch him while we’re gone and I’ll check in later.” 

“Must be hard to be away from him when he’s sick,” you said, pouring hot coffee into your mug. 

“It never gets easier, no,” he said softly. “But that’s the job.” You nodded, well aware of how important the job was.

The BAU had become a second home for you and while you would have loved to go see your parents in Maryland or spent a day relaxing on your couch, you couldn’t ignore the feeling you got when Garcia sent out her bat signal, calling you all in. It was what pushed you to return to work after your injury a few cases back. Hotch made sure to ask about that as well.

“How’s your arm?” he asked, his eyes on your forearm that had taken a bullet during a pursuit in Delaware.

“I’m clear for the field, Hotch, don’t worry,” you said with a glance at him, but you knew he would be one to argue. 

“It’s my job to worry,” he said, “I need to make sure my agents are always at the top of their game.” 

“Are you questioning if I am able to perform in the field, Sir?” You asked and you thought you saw his brow twitch as you addressed him formally.

“Not at all, (Y/N),” he assured you, “but I must remain vigilant.”

“Of course,” you said. “I will make sure not to disappoint you, Hotch.” You smiled at him over the lip of your mug. Aaron rolled his eyes at your playful tone and moved to grab the coffee pot. You didn’t step back fast enough and for a moment, the two of you were flush against one another. You could feel his breath on you as well as the smell of his cologne. Glancing up, your eyes met for a fraction of a second before you awkwardly stepped out of his space. “I, uh, I’ll see you in there,” you said as you pushed your way out of the kitchen and back towards the bullpen, not waiting to hear his response.

Shaking your head slightly, you tried to keep your focus on the task at hand. On the way to the round table, you ran into Rossi. “Good morning,” he greeted. 

“Is it even considered morning yet?” You asked with a slight laugh. Rossi was watching you with narrowed eyes. “Stop it,” you said. 

“Stop what?” He asked, innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I hate profilers,” you groaned as you entered the conference room. JJ, Prentiss, Morgan, Garcia, and Reid were already there. You could hear Hotch coming up behind you. 

“You are a profiler,” Rossi reminded you. 

“My point exactly,” you said, taking your seat next to Spencer. 

“What did I miss?” Reid asked. 

“Nothing,” you and Rossi said at the same time. Spencer frowned, but didn’t press the issue as Hotch entered the room, ready to get to work. 

“Morning everyone, I’m sorry to call you in so early,” Hotch said as he went to take his seat before the monitor. 

“Are you though?” Morgan asked, nursing a cup of coffee of his own. Hotch just smirked at him. 

“Garcia?” Hotch asked and Penelope stood up and grabbed the remote. 

“Okay, my sleepy crime fighters, we have a weird one,” Garcia said as she pointed the remote at the screen. “If you will turn to the information on your tablets, you will see that Seattle PD is asking for our assistance on their newest collection of murders. Two women have been found dead in local parks. Mason Walker and Rayna Graves were both murdered within a one week of each other and one more woman, Lisa Bracken is missing.” 

“Cause of death?” JJ asked.

“Medical Examiner says asphyxiation on both of them and then there is this,” Garcia hit another button and pulled up an array of images. 

“Is that…?” You asked.

“Candle wax?” Garcia finished for you. “Yes it is, my lovely friend.” Each of the victims were covered in red candle wax that looked straight off a Maker’s Mark bottle. Their legs, arms, torso, and face were covered in thick red drops of the thick substance. “Both women were found with it covering them like an old altar in a church.”

“Do the locals have a theory?” Rossi asked. 

“Some believe it is to do with a religious ritual, but none have come up in any research done by the detectives.”

“Which makes our job that much harder,” Hotch said. “Wheels up in thirty.” As the rest of the team stood up and got ready to move, Aaron stopped you. “(Y/N), a moment?” You paused, your heart picking up speed at whatever he was about to say. Would he reprimand you for what happened in the kitchen? You didn’t think so, but still those nerves remained. 

“Sir?” You asked, nervously. 

“I want you to stay close to me on this case,” Hotch said. Your brow furrowed, confused. 

“Why?” You asked, afraid you had done something wrong. Aaron picked up on it immediately. 

“You’re not in any kind of trouble,” he assured you. “After your injury, I am expected to have an agent evaluate you in the field on your first case back. I’ve decided to take on the responsibility myself. If that is okay with you, of course.”

“Yes, of course, Sir, that is completely fine with me,” you said, trying to keep your breathing even. Hotch seemed satisfied with your answer. 

“I am not trying to be overbearing and please don’t think you’re being criticized. I just want to get a feel for how you respond in the field.” You nodded, fully aware of procedure. However, it was usually JJ or Morgan that did these evaluations, not the Unit Chief.

“I understand, Hotch,” you said. “Just tell me where you need me.” Hotch nodded and after one more glance, you left the conference room to grab your go-bag as you tried not to think about spending the entire case with Aaron Hotchner.

————

On the jet, you sat next to Derek. 

You and Morgan had been friends since your first day at the BAU. With his flirty attitude and your ability to call him out on it, the two of you had connected fast. Hotch and Rossi sat across from you while JJ, Prentiss, and Reid milled about. 

Once you reached altitude, you began reading the case file again. Flipping through, you focused on the ME’s report as well as the detective statements. Something was bugging you about the way the bodies were found, something was familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

Unable to focus on it any longer, you closed the file and looked out the window, watching the sun come up. Morgan sighed next to you and you turned to look at him. He was looking at you with a question on his lips. “What?” You asked. 

“Nothing,” he shrugged, “I’m just trying to figure something out.”

“And what would that be?” You asked, already regretting the question. 

“Of all the time I’ve spent with you outside the office, I don’t know much about what you like to do.” 

“That’s what you’re curious about?” You laughed, shaking your head slightly. 

“Come on, (Y/N/N), tell me something. What’s a hobby of yours?” He asked and out of the corner of your eye, you could see Aaron look up from his tablet at Derek’s question. 

“Well, I like to ride motorcycles,” you revealed. Derek’s dark brows shot up. 

“No way,” he said, his grin widening. “Seriously?” 

“Yes, seriously,” you said with a chuckle.

“My girl likes to burn a little rubber, huh?” He asked. 

“Actually,” Spencer interjected, “modern sports-bike tires don't contain any actual rubber at all. They are made entirely from synthetic rubber, which is beneficial due to a balance between durability and traction.” 

“Huh,” you said, impressed. “I did not know that. Thanks, Reid.” He smiled at you and you mirrored the expression.

Across from you, you noticed Hotch was smiling proudly at the interaction. You knew he felt very protective of Spencer. He also didn’t like it when people shot him down when Spencer went on his tangents. You loved when Reid babbled, it always made you smile and next to JJ, you were one of the only people that let him talk as much as he wanted. Aaron always noticed this and it made him appreciate you even more than he did already.

Suddenly, Garcia’s face lit up the monitor. “Bad news, friends,” she said solemnly. “SPD just found Lisa Bracken’s body outside Century Link Field.” 

“Same MO?” You asked, grabbing the file again. 

“Unfortunately,” Garcia confirmed. “Local PD is waiting for you at the crime scene.”

“Thank you, Garcia,” Hotch and she nodded before logging off once again. “Alright, Dave, you and Reid go to the coroner’s office and see what you can make of the first two bodies. JJ, Morgan, and Prentiss, I want you to go to the latest crime scene. (Y/L/N) and I will go to the precinct and set up there.” You nodded as you flipped through the file. 

You expected this. Hotch said he would want you to stick close to him and he was always first to interact with the locals. Glancing up from the file in your hands, you noticed Hotch looking at you again. He quickly looked away once your eyes met his, but his gazing was unmistakable. Rossi caught your eye and he quirked a brow causing you to turn away and watch out the window. You really did hate profilers.

———

Arriving at the downtown precinct, you and Hotch pushed into the warm building and out of the rain.

You both were greeted by a handsome man who bore a detective’s shield on his hip. “FBI?” 

“Yes, Sir,” Hotch said, reaching for his hand. “I’m SSA Hotchner and this is SSA (Y/L/N),” he introduced. “The rest of the team will join us shortly.”

“Detective Perotta,” the other man said as he let go of Hotch’s hand and turned his attention to you. He smiled as you took his hand firmly. “Ma’am,” he said respectfully. You nodded back, taking your hand back. His eyes lingered on you for a moment and you suddenly felt very exposed. Hotch cleared his throat, grabbing the Seattle detective’s attention once again. 

“Do you have a place where we can work?” Hotch asked and Perotta nodded. 

“Yes, we’ve cleaned out the conference room for you,” he said as he headed towards a room near the back of the main room. You followed both men, trying to warm your hands back up after being out in the cold weather. “We got everything your technical analyst asked for,” Perotta said as he pushed open a glass door. Hotch held it open for you as you followed the detective. 

The locals had set up your case boards as well as provided all the current findings on the three known victims. Dropping your raincoat on the back of one of the chairs, you got to work setting up the board just the way your team liked it.

“So, you think it’s really a serial?” Perotta asked, watching as you placed Mason, Rayna, and Lisa’s photos up on the board as well as the initial photos that were taken of their bodies at their respective crime scenes. 

“It seems like it, yes,” Hotch answered. “We should be able to begin building the profile once we figure out how the three victims are related.” Perotta nodded and then Hotch’s attention turned back to you as you stared at the photo of Mason’s body that was found in Volunteer Park. He watched as you spun the gold ring on your right finger, the one thing you always did when you were thinking. “Detective, could you get us a map of the area?” Hotch asked. 

“Of course,” Perotta said, “one minute.” The Detective left, gently closing the door behind him. Hotch moved towards you, watching the way you analyzed the board before you. 

“What are you thinking?” He asked softly. You didn’t look at him, but you could feel his eyes on you as he noted the way you focused on the first crime scene. “(Y/N)?” 

“It’s the candle wax,” you finally said. “There is something so familiar about it. You see the way it’s dripping along her legs and then gets thicker at her ankles?” You asked, pointing to the photo. Hotch nodded. “I’ve seen that before.” 

“Where?” He asked. 

“I can’t remember,” you sighed, “but it was recent, definitely.” Turning to Hotch, you looked at him with frustration in your eyes. “Give me a few moments and I’ll figure it out,” you promised. Hotch gave you an easy smile, well, what you considered to be a smile. 

“You’re not Reid, (Y/N),” Hotch said, “I don’t expect you to be able to recall everything you’ve ever seen.” 

“Fair point,” you said, relaxing slightly. “But I’m still going to figure it out.” 

“I know you will,” Hotch said, looking down at you, his eyes filled with kindness. It made your heart swell. You were going to say something else when his phone rang. Digging it out of his jacket, he pressed the speaker button. “Dave, what do you got?” He asked. 

“Medical Examiner says the women had wax in their throats as well as their lungs,” Rossi said on the other line. You and Hotch exchanged a glance. 

“They were drowned in it?” You asked. 

“Yes,” Reid interjected, “it seems that it was quite hot too when it was forced down their throat. M.E. found notable burning in the esophagus and trachea.” You frowned, glancing between the phone and the photos behind you. 

“Did the M.E. notice any patterns to the other wax drippings?” Hotch asked. You didn’t hear Rossi or Reid’s answer as a light bulb finally went off. 

“It’s almost artistic,” Spencer was saying. 

“No, that is exactly what it is,” you said, interrupting Hotch as he went to say something else. “The bodies are mimicking a painting.” 

“What do you mean?” Rossi asked. 

“I knew this looked familiar. There is this new big Italian exhibition opening this week in Seattle,” you explained, tapping at your tablet, “It’s been all over the news… Here it is,” you said, showing Hotch the image you brought up from the site. It featured the main piece that would be on display. It was a beautiful painting of a woman laid out in a field with a cloaked figure standing over her dripping red wax on her body. “I sent it to your phone, Spencer.” 

“Yeah, I got it,” he said. “I agree with (Y/N). This is exactly what the unsub is emulating in his kills.” 

“So, he believes he’s whatever is above the woman in the painting?” Rossi asked. 

“Maybe,” you said with a shrug. 

“Okay,” Hotch said, “good work guys, get back here once you finish.”

“Will do,” Reid said. 

“Thanks.” Hotch hung up and pocketed his phone. “Well done,” Hotch complimented. 

“I knew it would come to me,” you said, examining the print on your screen. 

“I never knew you were so into art,” Hotch said, looking over your shoulder. 

“One of my many hobbies,” you said with a shrug. 

“Like riding motorcycles?” He asked and you looked up at him. He was looking at you as if he was truly interested in anything you said next. Your heart skipped at the expression on his face.

“Yeah,” you said with a nod. Hotch smirked slightly before moving back to the table, ready to look into the Italian exhibit again. You had to remind yourself to breathe as you went to print out a copy of the painting and pull yourself together before even the detectives knew what you were thinking by looking at your face.

PART II

[dimitrescus-bitch]

First Days (Jennifer Jareau x Reader)

First days were never easy. Normally, you didn’t know anybody and you had the least amount of experience. Today was a bit different though, today you’d know one person and you definitely had knowledge and experience. It may not have been to the level of the person you were being mentored by, but you had been impressive enough for her to personally request you be trained under her. And she wasn’t even the person that you knew. 

That person was Jennifer Jareau, your girlfriend of nearly nine months. She didn’t know you were coming to work for the BAU as their mobile tech analyst, but that was because your job was classified. Your new coworkers didn’t know about your connection to their liaison because that was personal. And you viewed personal as a “need to know” type thing. 

“May I come in?” you asked as you knocked on your new boss’s door. It flew open and you saw a blonde woman standing in front of you. She was definitely different, but you could tell that you’d get along just fine. “Hello, I am Y/n Y/l/n. You must be Penelope Garcia. It’s an honor Ms. Garcia.” 

“Penelope or just Garcia is fine. You’ve got quite the rap sheet if I do say so myself. Actually, it reminds me of myself in my younger days. Can I ask what sparked the change of heart?” Penelope asked and you shrugged. 

“I guess love. I met the most amazing woman and saw how she helped people at her own cost,” you said and Penelope nodded. 

“That’s very romantic and you can tell me all about her later. First, let me give you a little tour.” The office space was sort of cramped, but you would spend two weeks in the office with Penelope before you were allowed to go into the field. And so, you worked tirelessly with Penelope, not even really meeting any of the other members. Hotchner, your real boss, and a very odd, but endearing guy, Spencer, had come in, but nobody else had met you. 

“You know today is my last day before they put me in the field,” you said excitedly. 

“I’m proud of you, even if my nest will be a little emptier,” Penelope told you. That day was busy as hell, but Penelope let you be a bit more hands-on with this one. In fact, you’d done nearly everything yourself from the computers you’d be taking on the road with you. The next day, instead of going straight to Penelope’s office, you went to the briefing room and waited for the briefing that morning. 

“Y/n, you do realize that you don’t have to wait in here?” Hotchner asked you. He had been walking to his office and walked right past you. “You have a desk in the bullpen.” 

“This seemed more efficient,” you told him. He let you stay there with your coffee as you played with your badge a bit. It wasn’t anything special, but you’d worked really hard to get it. A part of you felt like you’d sold out, but another part of you was glad that you’d get to have something in common with JJ now. 

“I have no clue where she came from, but I know that she blew through training and has Garcia level skills.” You could hear JJ’s voice in the hall, getting louder as she got closer. You were a bit antsy, but excited at the same time. “The weird thing is, her name is sealed. All I really know is that she wasn’t exactly a model citizen before this.” 

“She’s very nice. I met her a few times. Actually, she’s brought me tea before,” Reid said as he pushed the door open. JJ and Reid were still talking as they entered the room and she paused when her eyes met yours. “Hi Y/n.” 

“Reid,” you said with a nod. You stood up from your chair and grabbed JJ’s hand to pull her into a hug. “Jenny.” 

“Don’t call me that,” JJ warned as she pushed away from you a bit. “You’re the new girl?” 

“Field Tech Analyst,” you told her, stating your official position title. The rest of the team filed in, there were introductions, the briefing, and then you were off to the plane. The entire time, you were nervous as hell, but you kept a level head and hoped nobody noticed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Sir, I think I have something,” you said to Hotchner as you got a hit on a credit card stolen from a victim. “Jackson Smith’s credit card was just used at a gas station 12 miles out of town, going east.” 

“Thank you Y/n,” Hotchner said and everybody suited up. You rode with Morgan and Prentiss, who had been a lot more welcoming than JJ. 

“So, um, how long have you and JJ been together?” Prentiss asked once you hit the road. You seemed surprised by the question. JJ had just had a conversation about being discreet with you at the hotel before you went to the precinct to keep looking for the unsub. “She didn’t say anything, it’s just sort of obvious I guess.” 

“Nine months, it’ll be ten in a couple weeks though,” you said happily. Prentiss and Morgan kept asking you some simple questions about your relationship on the drive over. You reached the unsub first, finding his car in the middle of a field. You followed Morgan and Prentiss in, going towards a very broken down barn on the far side of the field. 

Prentiss went to find a side entrance, Morgan went around the back, and you went in through the front. You saw the unsub with his gun pointed at Prentiss and shouted to get his attention away from her. It was stupid and all you heard was your name being screamed by someone as a bullet tore your internal organs. You fell onto the ground and strong, but small arms caught you. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Oh my god, you’re awake!” JJ exclaimed in relief. “If you ever do that again, I’ll kill you.” 

“How was I for my first day out?” you asked and JJ just stared at you in disbelief. “I was kind of nervous, but I think I did okay. Did I help catch him?” 

“Morgan shot him in the back of the head,” JJ said and you sighed. “You were shot and almost died Y/n. Not what I would call an ideal first day, but I’m happy that you’re okay and you were very brave. You did good, great even.” 

“My first day with Garcia, we talked about you. I didn’t use your name, but I talking about you reminded me of you and it made me do my very best. I was so close to being able to protect you, but too far away at the same time. Working in the field, I thought that we’d get to work together more,” you told her. 

“I’m sorry,” JJ apologized for pushing you away. “Just like you want to protect me, I want to protect you. Next time, we’ll protect each other together because that’s what this team does and you are a part of this team.” 

“Is taking bullets mandatory?” you asked and JJ shook her head. “Always was a bit of an overachiever.” 

[pandajaye]

Todoroki Family Ties (Part 7)

Characters: Enji Todoroki, Stepmom!OC!Ivy (Ivy is black btw), Child!Shoto Todoroki, Teen!Touya Todoroki

Warnings: child missing, dangerous criminals, mention of child murder, family abandonment

Enji and Ivy searched the entire property but Shoto was no where to be found. They called the police, Officer Tsukauchi alerted AllMight and Eraserhead and they were helping find him too. Even with them here, they were careful to keep quiet about the missing child of a Pro Hero. You never know what Villains could be looking for him too. The worst part of it was, the reason they needed pro hero help was because Shoto was the least dangerous person they were searching for today. The news reported that someone dangerous was out on the run and that only made Ivy’s heart sink lower. They figured they were fine since it was a private residence and Shoto was with a nanny, but she was gone too.

“We’re working hard to find him and the missing nanny, ma’am. I hate that this happened on the same day that a criminal broke out of jail. Is there any more information that you can give us about the boy or the woman?”

Tsukauchi must have been in a lot of situations where he had to show calmness towards civilians. His soft voice gave her a sense of peace, it was small but any was good.

“I-I.... I don’t know too much about her. She seems good with the kids. We just recently hired her last week and she’s been an angel. She has a very kind attitude for an older woman with a tattoo.”

“A tattoo? What did it look like? Can you describe it for me?”

Ivy thought hard about the image that was located on the woman’s hand. Enji didn’t agree with it but Ivy convinced him that since she wa so child friendly, the tattoo shouldn’t matter.

“It was a thin black circle with a cherry blossom inside. There was an ‘X’ on the right side of the circle. It was kind of wrinkled a long with her hand but I still thought it looked pretty cool.”

One of the officers that was standing in front of her drawing the description of the tattoo nodded to Tsukauchi. When he looked back at her, she could tell there was more of a hardness to his face. He turned to Enji and Allmight who had been standing next to them to observe.

“If it’s alright, I’d like to just speak to you two alone for a minute.”

They looked at each other before taking a step into the kitchen, away from where Ivy could hear.

“I’m afraid that the nanny may be involved in the disappearance of the boy. The tattoo that Mrs. Todoroki had described matched the same image of another womanms tattoo. They’re believe to be apart of a gang of Villains called the Withered Blossoms. Any crime scene these women have been apart of usually have young men unconscious or dead but with the appearance of someone who is old. Their victims also are left with no money. Apparently they use the youth from their victims to stay alive. There’s no telling how long they’ve been on this earth but we’ve managed to mostly keep them in jail. I’m not sure what they would want Shoto for. Either his youth, or ransom, but I know that we’ll do whatever it takes get him back and those women in maximum security prison.”

Toshinori thanked Mr. Tsukauchi before turning to look at Enji. His gaze was stuck on the ground, thinking about everything that was just explained. He was never one to really show emotion when anyone other than his family was around. Though he wasn’t sure if he’d even get a response, Toshi tried his best to communicate with Enji.

“Don’t worry. We’ll find your son. Everything will be fine.”

Enji scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Who said I was worried? I know he’ll be okay. He’s a damn Todoroki, of course he’ll be okay.”

Toshi shook his head. He could see the worry on his face. It was written in his furrowed brows. The angry wrinkles on his face. No matter how he tried to hide it, this bothered him deeply.

“It’s not bad to have feelings. Your child is out in the big world and could be in danger. It looks more suspicious not showing worry.”

Enji sighed angrily and looked at Toshi. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was speaking some sense. He didn’t know why he was such a hard ass all the time. There was just a lot of frustration and rage inside of him. The expression on his face softened but he looked away from Toshi.

“You’re right. I’m very upset. That’s.... my youngest out there. He could be scared. He could be hurt. Or.... o-or....”

“Hey. We’re not going to think like that, alright? They’re doing everything they can, looking under every rock for these villains and your son. I have no doubt that we’ll get some good news soon.”

Toshi gave him a nod of reassurance and Enji returned it. They may not get along always but he was glad to have Toshi here to comfort him and Ivy.

Especially Ivy....

This family.... Enji.... the kids.... they meant a lot to her. She was the first person in her family to be born quirkless. They hoped she would grow up and eventually gain one, but, unfortunately, it never happened. When she was in high school, she came home that day to her bags packed and thrown out of the door. They constantly hounded her for not being able to become a pro hero so that she could make them rich. Since she seemed to give no value in their eyes, she was kicked out and forced to live on her own.

After years of hard work, she graduated high school, college, got a job, and did pretty good. All on her own. She met Enji when she was fired and found a job at his agency. Apparently his assistant before her couldn’t handle his explosive temper. The difference between her and Ivy was that she could afford to quit, but Ivy was barely making it and this paycheck could change everything for her.

It was hard. There was almost constant intimidation. The atmosphere of every meeting had tension and no one was brave enough to disturb it. And it only got worse after the incident with Rei Todoroki pouring hot water over her son’s face. There were many rumors that floated around. Even when the truth about Enji putting her in a mental hospital came out, everyone said it was a cover up and that he actually murdered her. Luckily, the world continued to go around.

The agency was fine but it was obvious that Enji wasn’t. There was an aggressiveness and darkness to him that no one had ever seen before. Everyone was afraid to speak to him outside of business but Ivy figured that maybe that’s what he was missing. Someone needed to check on him and something inside of her said that it should be her. It was her character flaw. Even though she’d been through so much, she always felt as if it was her job to take care of the beasts of the world. In her mind, all they needed was love and kindness.

One day, she gathered the courage to talk to him and see how he was doing. When she opened the door to his office, the lights were off. He was just sitting in his chair but facing towards the window. That morning he walked in a nice suit but not the jacket was on the back of his chair and his tie was loosened. He was just sitting there, his head leaning against his hand like he was just done with everything.

“Hello? Mr. Endeavor?”

“What is it?

“I-I wanted to talk about something. Are you busy?”

He sighed and dropped his hand, turning to look at her and permit her to enter before turning back to the outside world.

“Come in.”

She hurried in and closed the door behind her, quietly making her way over to the front of his desk.

“I wanted to check on you.... see how you were doing lately. I’m really worried about you, sir. You haven’t burned as brightly as you used to, so I’m here if you want to talk about anything. I’m sorry if I’m bothering you in anyway, sir.”

When he didn’t respond, she walked to be in his line of sight. He looked so tired. There were bags under his eyes and a sad frown that looked as if it’s been there forever and would never leave. It broke her heart to see him so depressed. She decided to leave. He probably was being nice by not telling her to get out immediately.

“I hope your day gets better, sir...”

Ivy only took a single step before she was stopped, her small wrist in his large hand. When she looked at him, there were streaks of tears on his cheeks.

Suddenly, he pulled her to him and hugged her waist. She could feel him trembling.

“S-She’s gone.... she’s gone.... a-and it’s m-my fault-t.”

Enji’s grip on her tightened and she started to relax. He needed her in that moment and it was necessary that she was there for him.

“It’s going to be okay, sir. It’s going to be alright.”

They talked for a long time. He avoided questions about Rei but she didn’t mind. There were lots of emotions in the room. Maybe it was the sudden opportunity to be vulnerable or how she comes off as a trustworthy person, but he was quick to let her in. He admitted that this was one of the very few times that he made a connection with someone at work. He really appreciated her bravery and that she wanted to actually talk to him.

This was the beginning of their relationship. From coworkers to friends to friends to lovers. Oh how sweet it sounds. Even if it wasn’t always sweet, especially after they were married. So quickly at that. However, it was obvious that they were soulmates. The conflicts weren’t because of her, it was his toxicity. A toxicity that healed when they were together, it heals slowly, but progress is progress.

Now here they were. Enji holding Ivy as her emotions were trying to control themselves. That’s when they got the call from Toshinori. Ivy put her phone on speaker so Enji could hear too.

“We’ve found Shoto and the criminal. We’re bringing your boy home.”

A huge weight felt lifted off of the couple’s shoulders. Enji held onto Ivy as she cried into his chest. Since his hands were preoccupied with holding her, he couldn’t quickly wipe the tears out of his eyes and instead just lowered his face to kiss the top of Ivy’s head.

Shoto was back home within a few hours after an interrogation with the police. The woman had never mentioned anything about what he would be used for, she lured him with the lie that she would take him to see Rei. It made Enji and Ivy furious to find out that someone would make up such a terrible lie to kidnap a child and he vowed to find the rest of the group so they couldn’t hurt anyone else.

After dinner, and putting the kids to bed, Enji received a phone call from a number he didn’t immediately recognize and excused himself to go outside to answer it.

“We need to talk about Natsuo and Fuyumi soon. I believe it’s time that they come home.”

He recognized the voice immediately. Rei’s mother. The current guardian of his other two children.

[dimensionwriter]

Flufftober Day 2: First Meeting

M! Orc x GN! Reader

----------------------------------------------------

Apologies for this one being late. A lot of problems arose yesterday and my mother got sick (she’s fine now, just migraines) and I just couldn’t get a flow for this story.

-------------------------------------------------

Blind dates. You either ended up loving them or hating them. Your friends swear on their life that this person would be great for you, but then you meet them and it doesn’t hit off. Or you two hit off for the night, but then after a few days of texting, the magic wears off. 

You were turned off on the idea of a blind date, but when a coworker happily talks about how well you will get along with her friend and how you guys will really hit it off, you couldn’t say no. 

So, there you sat at on a chipped green bench in front of a random building you never heard of while you waited for this random person to show up and within the next few hours ‘blow you off your feet’. Your outfit was quite light and breezy considering the last few days have been quite sweltering; however,  today was the day that mother nature decided to turn down the temperature and have giant gust of wind slamming against you every few minutes. Tonight was not starting off on a good note. 

“Um.. hello?” Tilting your head back, you were met with the sight of a dark red. You had to bring your eyes down to see up the person. The dark red was actually a really thick coat that had a white rim around their neck. Finally, your eyes landed on their face. “Hi?”

His murky green skin had a dark red blush to it. Maybe at a quick glance, you would have assumed that it was natural, but it was too neatly placed. Especially the shiny red around his eyes that was been accentuated by a black wing.

“Are you waiting on anyone, by chance?” he asked, walking around to the front of the bench. With him in front of you, you could see how truly tall he was. He wasn’t as tall as some orcs you met, but he was still past the 6 foot range. 

“Are you Pai by any chance?” you asked, getting ready to stand. A part of yourself was preparing yourself to just get this over with to take a nice relaxing bath. Although, you tried to repress it in order to not ruined the date.

He nodded and sat down next to you. His form took up most of the space on the bench causing his thigh to be pressed against yours. He jumped a little and scooted over to give you some more space. 

Hmmm, respects personal space. That’s some bonus points.

He glanced over at you with a scrunched look on his face. His brown eyes looked so dark, like a storm brewing in them. “I’m going to be real with you.’

Oh, that never goes well. 

“I didn’t know I was going on a date until my friend bust into my room 2 hours ago and said she had set me up. I don’t know what’s going on and I’m feeling so weird right now. I’ve never dated a human- nothing against you guys, you’re quite a handsome and beautiful human- this is just a first. So.... yeah.” 

He seem to have shrunken into his coat as he got that off his chest. His eyes flickered over to you before looking back forward. You cracked a smile and relaxed down into the chair. “Well, I’m so sorry your friend dragged you into this. Just to be honest with you, I wasn’t looking that forward to tonight; so it won’t hurt my feeling if you decided to go back home.”

His fingers inched towards each other as he twirled the fur of his jacket. You could pretty much heard the wheels in his head churning as he weighed his options. 

“I-well. I got dressed up for tonight,” he laughed out, pointing to his outfit. The main colour was red with white and black being accent. You had to admit that it made him look good. “And behind us is a new arcade that just open that I’ve been wanting to go to.”

His lips parted to reveal a beautiful smile that caused his eyes to squint up. Two tusk were peaking  past his lips. On the left one was a band around it that had a little dangly gold star on it. 

“Well, I wouldn’t mind just chilling for the night. At least now we don’t have to try so hard to make this ‘romantic’.” He let out a tiny giggle. He readjusted his jacket and smoothly raised off the bench.  

You followed his lead and got off the bench. He walked over to the dark brick building. Looking up, you could see the neon pink sign glowing out the word “Lucky Plays”. 

“I heard they had a lot of the retro games in here-” he explained to you as he pulled on the metal door. A blast of cold air hit you instantly making you take a step back. Goosebumps spread throughout your entire body from that single breeze. 

He stopped as he looked at you shivering . A glance at the door and one back at you, he walked over to you. You're had slowly tilted back as he moved forward so you can keep you eyes locked on his face.

"I know this isn't really a date anymore," he grumbled out. His thick fingers worked quickly to undo the buttons on his jacket, allowing it to slide down his shoulder. "But I can still be a decent orc."

He was ever so gentle as he let the fabric drape around your shoulder. Soft furs brushed against your skin as warmth seeped deep into your bones.

You were prepared to thank him, but was stopped as he dropped down to a knee. Grabbing the front of the coat, he pulled the buttons a little and started to put them together.

"You know. I thought I looked good in red, but sweetie you look so much better than I do," he hooked the final button and looked up at you, "especially when it's my clothes."

I-um- what? He just went from awkward adorable orc to a flirt real quick. What's is going on? And why is your cheeks heating up?

"I'm joking. Had to tease a bit," he laughed out. He stood up to his normal height making you realize just how big he was.

"Come on, let's go in. Gotta show you how good I am at Galaxian." His hand came down to lightly ruffle your hair. Turning away, he started walking towards to door. You were a little slow this time to keep up because of you trying to ignore the blood rushing through your cheeks.

"Pai?" You called out. In you hands were two sticks of pink cotton candy that Pai had asked you to get. He said he needed to do something real quick, but he hasn't came back.

So far, tonight has been amazing. The two of you have just been running around whatever video game caught your eye. Pai wasn't kidding when he said he was good at Galaxian. He pretty much carried you most of the rounds.

This non date felt a lot more enjoyable than the actual dates you have been on. You didn't feel the pressure to talk the entire time about yourself or half heartedly ask your date about themselves.

This date was different. You guys just talked when you felt like it. There was no need to fill in the silence or worry if you were looking attractive. It was just laughter, screaming, and fun.

"Dang it." Your head tilted at the familiar phrase you've been hearing all night. You followed it past some machines into a small corner.

Pai was hunched over to reach to the controller as his eyes focused on the swinging claw infront of him. The sleeves on his white shirt was rolled up, showing you how serious he was. It was funny that it was just over a plushie machine.

"Pai, if you wanted to play some more, you could have just said so," you mumbled walking over to him. He glanced over to you with a pout on his lips. Most of the makeup on his cheeks were wiped away from constantly wiping it throughout the night.

"No, I wanted to surprise you with this little teddy bear," he said pointing to a green bear that was sitting on top of the others. "I know it's cheesy and this isn't really a date, but I wanted to get you a little something that could remind you of me after this."

Ah, your heart. He was too cute.

"Well, I mean," you walked towards the machine causing Pai to back up; you handed over the cotton candy to him before looking forward," This won't be the last time seeing you. I was hoping there would be a next time."

You dropped the crane into the center of the bear. The claw wrapped around it's torso, lifting it up and bringing it over to the hole.

"I would really like to meet you again too," he admitted, smiling brightly. You picked up the bear and turned towards him. Holding it out towards him, you gave him your own big smile.

"It's a date then."

[plazmafields]

Dorian chatted aimlessly as he waited for Krem to grab his lunch, Dorian gripping his own loosely and swinging the bag gently at his side. Once Krem was ready, the two men crossed through the office on their way to the cafe. As they passed a large set of frosted glass doors, Dorian heard soft music coming from within. He slowed his pace as he listened, trying to recognize the song.

“What is it?” Krem asked, several feet ahead.

“Oh, nothing, I just…” Dorian drifted off as he read the name on the doors. “I’ve never seen Cullen outside his office. Not in the break room or the cafe.”

Krem scoffed, “Yeah, he doesn’t leave that room. I don’t know if he takes breaks at all. Maybe he just likes to be alone during his breaks? I don’t know, honestly.”

Dorian hummed in acknowledgement, still focused on putting a finger on the strangely familiar music he could faintly hear. After a moment of silence, Krem started walking again.

“You coming?” he called back.

“Yes, I’ll just be a moment. I’ll meet you there.”

Krem shrugged and went off to meet up with their other lunch buddies.

Dorian kept staring at the frosted doors, reading the lettering over and over. Cullen Rutherford, Director of Architecture. Not his boss, per se, but absolutely a few positions over him.

Is it even worth asking? Dorian wondered. I suppose it couldn’t hurt, despite the likelihood of him refusing.

So with a shrug and a confident smile, Dorian drummed a knuckle against the glass and waited for a response. He heard the music stop and Cullen clear his throat before uttering a quiet “enter”.

Dorian opened the door slowly and peaked his head in first. “Mr. Rutherford? Do you have a moment?”

Cullen reeled a little at the formality. “Oh, yes, please, have a seat. And just ‘Cullen’ is fine.”

“Right, Cullen…” Dorian murmured as he sat, taking in the decor. “You have a lovely office, very cosy.” he remarked, noting each side wall had floor to ceiling bookshelves, each nearly full.

Cullen nodded in agreement, shifting the things on his desk.

“Did you do something different with it since I was here last month?”

Cullen chuckled, “No, never.” he looked up from his organization for his eyes to lock with Dorian’s, immediately thrown off course. “Uh, I mean, I have it the way I like it. Maybe, um, it needs something new, I’m not a trinket person, but maybe something. Bookends?”

Dorian grinned, “Maybe.”

After a long quiet moment, Cullen cleared his throat again. “Anyway, sorry, what did you need to talk to me about?”

As he casually glanced around the room once more, Dorian said plainly, “A few of us have formed a… ‘lunch club’, I suppose, where we all go out together or sit in the cafe at lunch and just chat. I was wondering if you wanted to join us today. I know you usually eat in here by yourself.”

Cullen sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck, eyes on his desk, “I usually don’t eat. If I’m honest. There’s really no time, I have so much shi--”

Dorian looked at him with a slight smirk, brow quirked.

“...work. A lot of work to do. I’m sorry, maybe I can find time some other...time.”

Dorian could see that Cullen didn’t really want to refuse, but also felt too awkward. 

“Is it the group? I promise there’s only, like, five of us, myself included. You’re never intruding.”

The blond cringed a little, “Maybe? I-I don’t know, I’m not much of a people person, I really--”

“What if it was just you and me?” Dorian cut him off gently.

Cullen’s mouth remained open as his eyes got wider. He quickly took Dorian up and down, then gulped.

Dorian chuckled, “I’ll let you think about it, how about that?”

As he opened the door to leave and find Krem, Dorian turned back and said in a soft tone, “I would really enjoy your company.”

The last thing he saw before shutting the door behind him was a slight blush on Cullen’s cheeks.

---

After a couple of days with no answer, Dorian decided to take it upon himself to buy an extra burrito bowl for Cullen, taking notes from Josephine on what he might like.

“He only comes to the break room when I bring in my pastries.” She had said. “He waits until everyone in the office has had one, then he comes out and takes whatever’s left. He asks me about the sugar cookies sometimes. They’re just butter and sugar, a little vanilla. He seems to like simple flavors, but he’s eaten almost everything I’ve made.”

Playing it safe, Dorian got a very basic bowl without extras, hoping the flavors would be inoffensive.

Once he got back to the office, he went straight to Cullen’s office and knocked, not waiting for a response before barging in. He knew Cullen would be in there, and he wasn’t giving him an option, Cullen was going to eat.

Cullen looked up from his screen with surprise, shocked to see Dorian with two bowls.

“Time for lunch.” Dorian said, placing Cullen’s dish in front of him with a fork and napkin.

Cullen tried to say something, but Dorian cut him off.

“Nope, eat.”

Dorian sat in the adjacent chair and began digging in, only stopping to gesture for Cullen to do the same.

The blond took a tentative bite, humming as he pointed with his fork. “This is really good, but I feel bad. You didn’t have to--”

“I certainly didn’t, but I chose to. And I’d hate to see it go to waste, so don’t feel bad, just eat it.”

Cullen, thrown off guard by Dorian’s bluntness, simply shut up and ate, muttering a quiet “thank you” through bites.

“You’re very welcome. Having work to do is no reason to starve yourself.” Dorian watched with a smile as Cullen clearly enjoyed his meal.

"I'd hardly say I starve myself," Cullen said under his breath. When Dorian gave a skeptical look, he elaborated, "I just, you know, make sure I have a big breakfast, and I eat an apple or something throughout the day. I try to be healthy."

"Skipping meals isn't healthy, darling." Dorian purred to avoid sounding judgemental.

Cullen blushed at being worried over. "No, you're right."

After a long pause, Cullen sheepishly asked, "Mind if I switch on some music?"

"Feel free," Dorian waved dismissively.

Soothing, almost romantic jazz was the first thing to play, Cullen flailing at the keyboard to skip it. "Woah, okay, how about something else?" He laughed nervously.

"No no, I quite enjoy jazz, if you don't mind." Dorian reached over and softly grabbed Cullen's hand to stop him, Cullen looking to their hands and blushing.

"Oh, sure. T-That's fine…"

They simply ate as the song played, Dorian suddenly realizing Cullen was done with his meal.

"Oh, you eat fast, don't you?" Dorian remarked, finally taking in Cullen’s physique. He was muscular, but not ripped; defined, but not toned; sturdy, but not 100% muscle. He was...

"Oh I--" Cullen looked down at his bowl and scrapped every last bit of rice out, "yeah, I'm used to not having a ton of time, I guess."

"I love a man with appetite." He didn't mean to sigh that last word, but Dorian let it slip, immediately clearing his throat in embarrassment.

Cullen swallowed roughly, but just went back to the last statement, "I probably shouldn't eat so fast or I'll mess up my metabolism. And I am getting older…"

Dorian scoffed, "Older? What are you, twenty-six?"

Cullen laughed, "Yeah, I wish. Try thirty-six."

"Are you calling me 'older', Cullen?" Dorian crossed his arms.

Cullen blushed, "W-What, no! I...how old are you?"

"Thirty-seven."

Cullen rolled his eyes, "Oh, please, older than me, maybe, but not older."

Dorian glanced down at Cullen's left hand. "Thirty-six and no wife?"

"Hey, I could ask you the same." Cullen shrunk in his seat; clearly this was a point of contention.

Dorian smirked, "I'm gay, darling."

"Oh…" Cullen blushed a little, "Well, no husband, then?"

Dorian crossed his legs and sat back, "I needed a break after my last boyfriend. He was a bit much: prissy, self-absorbed, disagreeable; it didn't work. We just had too much in common."

Cullen gave a hardy laugh, "I don't think you're disagreeable in the slightest, I think you're very pleasant."

Dorian smiled and tutted with a dismissive wave of the hand.

"And quite handsome, plenty of reason to be self-absorbed."

Taken aback, Dorian looked up with hopeful eyes, looking onto a completely innocent face dawning a sweet smile. Dorian grinned back, "Good of you to notice."

---

As he worked diligently, Dorian's focus was broken by someone sitting on the corner of his desk, arms crossed. He looked up, expecting Krem ready to head to lunch, but instead saw his newest lunch companion, blond curls less contained than usual.

"Ah, Cullen, out of your cave. What can I do for you, my friend?" He turned his chair and crossed his legs.

Cullen smiled softly but avoided Dorian's eyes. "I was wondering--I know it's lunch and you probably have plans to go out already but," his eyes darted up occasionally to check he wasn't losing Dorian's attention, "I was wondering if later, after work, you'd like to go to dinner with me."

The entire room went silent. The click-clacking of keyboards stopped, the fax machine stopped buzzing, and the water cooler stopped bubbling. Out of nowhere, eyes started peering over cubical walls, and people casually migrated in Dorian's direction.

He watched them all from the corner of his eye as everyone in the room waited for his answer. Cullen didn't leave his office, he didn't talk to his coworkers, and he didn't respond to flirting, from anyone.

Until now.

Dorian tried to keep his gulp subtle and quiet. He chuckled awkwardly before responding, "That...that sounds really nice. I'd love to."

The room started moving again, noises continued and people went back to their places.

Cullen grinned, "Great! That's...I'm…" he breathed a calming breath, "I'm so glad."

Laughing im relief, Dorian shook his head before taking a long moment to simply look into Cullen’s eyes. Golden and kind.

Cullen stared back, soft smile still present. "Well," he cleared his throat before standing, "I should get back to work. I'll see you tonight?"

Before Dorian could respond, his hand was in Cullen's, knuckles up, and eyes locked with the blond as he placed a gentle kiss to each one.

"I'm buying this time," Cullen whispered.

[taeyongtime]

by chance we meet

genre: blind date!au | fluff 

featuring: NCT’s Doyoung

word count: 3,713 words

a/n: inspired by the aggretsuko episode where retsuko meets her first boyfriend at a singles mixer. also happy late birthday to @chipsandwaffles​ <3

“A mixer?”

Your friend nods eagerly. “Yeah, we’re missing one more for our table of eight, wanna join?”

“Who’s going to this thing?” you frown, not wanting to attend if you weren’t going to know any of the other guests.

“Oh, just some of my boyfriend’s coworkers. Guys and girls alike if you prefer one over the other.”

“I don’t know…” The thought of going out on a Friday night to have dinner with complete strangers didn’t quite sit well despite not needing to wake up early for work the next day. 

“I’m not really in the mood to meet new people right now…”

“Come on, don’t be such a party pooper! See you at seven!”

Without even the chance to object, you watch her go with a heavy sigh. As if the work week hadn’t been tiring enough, now you were metaphorically bound to attend a dinner you didn’t even want to go to. It’ll be easy to play hooky, but recalling the eagerness on your friend’s face when she brought up even the mere mention of a mixer…

Soft. You’d gotten too soft with her and it was time to put your foot down on being roped into any more of her schemes, really.

—

“You’re here!”

Waving a hand, you make your way over to the entrance of the restaurant she’d texted you earlier. A quaint little place not too far from your office, the wooden sign overhead boasts of soju and all-you-can-eat meats amid the chilly wind and darkened sky outside the establishment.

“Actually, I…”

“This way, they’re already inside!”

Again losing the chance to wiggle out of socializing, you finally relinquish yourself to the arm offered and pull open the door to let yourselves inside. The host quickly leads you to the reserved table and you see that there were already two girls and three other guys seated around an already-heated up grill. Recognizing no one, you sit at the seat saved for you and make small talk with the girl next to you, exchanging names and inquiring on where she worked before reaching a halt at any new topics to further the conversation.

“Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.”

Getting up from your chair, you hurriedly look for the restroom and eventually find the little door at the very back, only to twist the doorknob without much luck in prying it open. Not hearing any sounds either, you knock twice and nearly fall when the door abruptly swings open and narrowly avoids hitting you in the face. Steadying yourself in the nick of time, you cast a glare at the guy who had just exited, mouth dropping in disbelief when he barely even acknowledges you and walks straight down the hallway. 

Unbelievable. The audacity.

Mood now sour, you shuffle back to the table and find the guests in different seats. The girl you’d spoken with before is now talking to a guy so tall he can easily pass off as a tree had not he spotted you staring and offered a taciturn wave. All around, faces blur before your eyes and threads of conversation weave in and out your ears, tangling into a ball that threatens to trip up your feet if you weren’t careful. Spotting an empty seat, you quickly take it and pour yourself a shot of soju to avoid talking to more people. Not alone in the endeavor to deflect from social interaction, the guy two seats down looks awfully familiar as he does the same. Squinting to get a better look, you suddenly remember the incident at the bathroom and storm over, taking him completely by surprise.

“Can I… help you?”

You place your empty shot glass down and cross your arms in distaste.

“I believe you owe me an apology.”

He arches an eyebrow in question. “Excuse me?”

“You bumped into me outside the bathroom and just walked off like it was nothing!”

Realization is slow to sink in, and he rubs his neck awkwardly after it comes to mind.

“Ah, that… I didn’t see you then, my bad.”

“Hmm, you’re fine,” you grumble, not in the mood to hold grudges in the midst of enjoying a free meal. “At least you remembered, unlike some people.”

A low chuckle leaves his lips before he pours another shot of soju into his empty glass and then refills yours.

“That happened before? You being bumped into by the bathroom?”

“Sure.” You nod in thanks and drain the glass in one go. “One time it wasn’t even an accident.”

“Do tell. If you’re willing to share, of course.”

The first smile to grace your face since stepping into the restaurant brightens up your mood immediately and you take the bottle of soju, refilling the two empty shot glasses and holding yours up to toast.

“I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

He does the same and gently taps your glass, clinking in cheers to a new friend at what had been a very unexpected turnout at the singles mixer.

“Doyoung. Likewise.”

—

You’d somehow spent the entire evening eating, drinking, and chatting with Doyoung, the guy surprisingly easy to talk to despite the sour first impression. He had also been dragged along to the mixer, but rather than to find a date, his  reasons in attending were free food and drinks. Clearly the benefits had outweighed the costs of interacting with strangers in the process. 

Perhaps you both had completely missed the point of the event, but enjoying delicious food was always a pleasure, even more so with a kindred spirit who was equally as understanding about the pointlessness in singles mixers.

“Met anyone cute last night?”

“I had a lot of soju and meat,” you answer without looking up from the files you needed to analyze. “Thanks for paying; the food was delicious.”

“That wasn’t the point!” your friend shrieks, hands grabbing the collar of your black blazer and shaking vigorously while speaking. “The point was for you to meet someone so you’re off the market!”

“Love is not all there is in the world,” you retort, prying her hands off. “Some of us are lucky in that department while others like me just naturally fall short.”

“That’s why I’m helping you meet more people!” 

Five manicured fingers slam onto your desk. “Saturday, 6pm, my boyfriend’s place.”

“I’d rather die than third-wheel you and your Taeyongie.”

“He invited two of his most eligible coworkers after I told him I want to set something up for you. So you definitely won’t be third-wheeling.”

The intensity in her eyes is startling, so much so that you offer to get her a cup of water to calm down after making such a heated proposal to obtain your attendance at her little gathering.

“No, I’m fine. But Saturday, make sure to clear your schedule for dinner.”

“This is the last blind date you’re setting up for me,” you warn, promising to save Saturday evening for her event. “I appreciate the gesture, really I do, but you can’t force these things.”

“Fine,” she sighs, nodding in understanding. “I won’t set you up for more blind dates or drag you to any mixers if you want to let these things happen naturally.”

“That’s not exactly what I said, but thank you.”

“You’re my friend, silly. Friends look out for each other.”

◇

Saturday arrived sooner than you expect and here you are, standing before #3622 of the apartment unit your friend cohabited with her boyfriend. Checking that your outfit wasn’t out of place and makeup not smeared during the rush to arrive on time, you take a deep breath and press the bell. The chime travels within and brings the sound of shuffling footsteps and creak of the door frame soon after the initial ring.          

“Finally!”

The excited screech from inside audible from the front door, you exchange with the boyfriend who had opened said door and he shrugs.

“She’s like that,” he smiles, waving you in. “Please, come in.”

Hanging up your coat on the rack adjacent to the shoe cabinet that housed a mix of sneakers, high heels, and other styles telling of a cohabiting couple, you place your shoes on the side and cringe a little at the dark blue bunny socks snug around your feet. Fingers crossed, hopefully no one would notice.

“Cute socks,” Taeyong adds before making his way to the kitchen. “They look just like the pair my girlfriend has.”

A wave of embarrassment washes over your face immediately, already caught when you had harbored the hope that your socks would go undetected.

“Thanks,” you mumble to yourself, letting out a grunt at the whirlwind that crashes into you and hugs you so close that you find it hard to breathe.

“I can’t breathe.”

“You’re here!” your friend squeals, a sound that threatens to dull your eardrums to oblivion at the close proximity. “Thanks for showing up; I genuinely thought you’d bail on me!”

“We’re friends,” you remind her, spotting an opening to wiggle out of the hug. “Plus, I promised.”

“Come, come, I’ll introduce you while Taeyongie makes dinner.”

She leads you to the living room, the black leather couch with enough occupancy for three already occupied by one other.

“This is Doyoung. Doyoung, Y/N. Y/N, Doyoung.”

“You again?” comes the simultaneous chime at seeing each other’s faces.

“You’ve met before?”

“At the mixer,” you explain, not expecting the unexpected twist of Doyoung being Taeyong’s coworker. “We met there.”

“Well, make yourselves at home and I’ll let you know when food’s ready.

“Small world,” she murmurs, letting you talk with Doyoung while she skips to join her boyfriend in the kitchen.

You turn to Doyoung awkwardly and he’s just as flustered, not knowing what to say as you take a seat next to him.

“So,” you begin, “You work with Taeyong.”

“Yeah,” he nods tersely. “Finance.”

“I’m an accountant,” you reply in kind. “Basically the same department.”

“Sure.”

The tension ever growing with each passing second of silence, your eyes wander around and lock in on an opened box of chocolates on the coffee table. On cue, a low growl emits from your empty stomach and your ears pick up a low snort from Doyoung’s end.

“I didn’t eat beforehand,” you mumble in your defense, grabbing the box and uncovering the lid. Six pieces of decadent chocolates wink up at you, waiting to be eaten. 

“You think they’ll mind if I take one?”

“No,” he replies, “I’ll have one too so you’re not the only one responsible.”

Liking his answer, you share the box with him and end up eating four of the six pieces before finding the willpower to talk to him again.

“Here for free food like last time?”

“Partly,” he divulges, leaning back onto the couch. “Taeyong’s a pretty good cook.”

“The other reason?”

“I have nothing else to do.”

The burst of giggles that escape your mouth shifts the topic away from Doyoung and he is quick to send the question back.

“And you? You can’t be here just to steal your friend’s chocolates.”

“This was supposed to be a setup for me to meet some prospective blind dates,” you reveal, still in the midst of catching your breath. “I… I promised my friend I’d show up.”

“Blind date,” he echoes, “That would make sense as to why there were so many people at the restaurant.”

“It was a singles mixer,” you exclaim, dumbfounded at his slow realization. “Why else did you think there were strangers all gathered together at a table?”

“I thought they were just other friends of Taeyong’s. He’s super popular at work; I can only imagine how it must be outside of work.”

“Heard my name.” A head pops in from around the corner. “Need anything?”

“We’re good,” Doyoung speaks up. “Are you good?”

Taeyong reaches his hands behind his back and unties the string of the blue apron over his white tee. 

“Johnny couldn’t make it, so it’s just you two eating with us.”

“A double date?” you whisper under your breath. “What a scam.”

“Sorry, didn’t catch that.”

“Nothing,” you blurt quickly, bumping Doyoung’s elbow. “We’ve been eating your chocolates while waiting; hope you don’t mind.”

“They’re quite good,” Doyoung joins in, picking up on your signal for help. “Where’d you buy them?”

“Homemade,” Taeyong replies, “Hopefully you two didn’t eat all of it when I’m already done with dinner.”

The last two pieces of chocolate are quickly shifted to the front of the case to give the illusion that there were still plenty, and Doyoung strategically places the lid at an angle so only said pieces are seen upon first glance.

“Go,” he whispers, ushering you out. “I’ll be right behind you.”

—

Can it be fate’s call that Doyoung is the one?

You’d already met him on two blind dates, both instances completely by chance that he would be the one you chose to engage with. Great minds that think alike, the vibes between the two of you went along the same wavelength, as if you’d known him forever—even though that wasn’t the case at all. Was he really the one to take you off the market when you’d been available for so long?

After Saturday’s dinner, he had offered to take you home even though his apartment was in the opposite direction and nearly stayed the night if he didn’t bring up the fact that he would miss the last train should the discussion on the joys of eating all of your friend’s chocolates continue further. Letting him go and texting to meet up again the next day, he was prompt to accept the invitation, even returning the gesture for dinner next Friday at another barbecue restaurant for drinks and all-you-can-eat meats. The back-and-forth invitations persisted for a good month, yet neither you nor he ever asked the question about making the relationship as one of more than friends.

Did he not like you back? Or was it all just a misinterpretation of what was clearly becoming a close-knit friendship?

—

“So… anything happen between you and Doyoung?”

“We’re friends now, if that’s what you’re wondering about.”

The disgruntled noise above your head elicits an eyeroll and you tune out the incoming rant about wasting a good friend’s efforts in helping you find the love of your life.

“Are you even listening to me?” she whines, waving her newly manicured hands over your computer screen.

“You painted your nails pink this time.”

“Mean!” She leaves you alone and you can practically see the pout and protruding tongue on her face as you watch her go. Returning your attention to the stack of reports waiting to be reviewed, an hour or so easily flies by. Before you know it, the entire office is empty and dark save the little desk light shining next to your canister of pens. So absorbed you were that you hadn’t even noticed everyone else had already gone home while you were still looking through financial reports.

“Maybe I’m working too hard…”

Grabbing your jacket and briefcase, you remember to lock the doors before taking the elevator down to the main lobby. The security guard on night duty gives a slight nod before holding open the door, and you step out into the chilly cold of the night. No wind, but the relatively thin pants and white blouse on top do little to offer much warmth.

“You have a jacket, you know.”

Turning around, you nearly drop your briefcase at the sight of the figure standing not too far from the curb. In Doyoung’s hand is a cup of coffee, which he promptly offers after you put on your jacket.

“You’re finally clocked out,” he begins, gesturing at the dark office building. “I was thinking you had overtime after everyone left and I didn’t see you.”

“How do you know where I work?” you ask, enclosing both hands around the coffee cup to obtain as much heat emanating from the hot liquid.

“I followed Taeyong when he said he was going to pick up his girlfriend from work today.”

“Ah…”

You take another sip of coffee and he asks if you’d be willing to have dinner with him, the offer too tantalizing to reject when he promised to be the one paying. Giving him the choice of location, you’re even more surprised when he brings you to take the train, getting off at a stop not too far from what looked to be a food fair. Tents propped up along every inch of the path boast of local street foods and drinks while people enjoying the park or who have already bought food sit on blankets by the grassy meadows overlooking the large riverbank. 

Not what you had expected when he said he’d treat you to a meal.

“There’s a food fair tonight,” he explains, naturally pulling you closer as hordes of people push past to reach their favorite stalls. “Anything you want, you pick and I’ll pay.”

You lick your lips in anticipation, prepared to empty his entire wallet.

“Anything I want?”

“Anything,” he laughs, “My wallet has enough to fill you up until you explode.”

“Even lobster?”

Doyoung follows your line of sight to the stall selling grilled cheese lobster, already knowing it would be the first thing you wanted since it was the most expensive item at the fair.

“Get me one too.”

Never one to enjoy crowded areas, tonight is an exception that you find yourself enjoying immensely as you hop from stall to stall with Doyoung right behind. Lobster, spicy rice cakes, meat skewers, fried dumplings, the choices are endless at every corner you turn. Not to be outdone, Doyoung is always one step ahead of you with wanting to try something else when you hadn’t even finished what you currently had on hand, and you eventually call it quits after buying a carton of banana milk from the convenience store to quench your throat from all the hot food.

“I’m full,” you groan when he returns with two soft serves. “You’re going to have to eat those yourself.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, sitting down on the grass. “The lady was kind enough to make these taller for me when I told her it was for my date.”

The word ‘date’ catches you off guard and you quickly look away, not knowing what to say.

“I’ll give it away if you’re sure you don’t want it.”

Extending a hand, you take the cone before he changes his mind and ignore the snicker from his end. The cold dessert is quick to melt despite the chilly air, or perhaps you were just too slow in eating it when you were still full from all the food you ate earlier.

“It’s dripping all over your fingers,” Doyoung nags, dabbing at your hands with a napkin. “Wait, I have another.”

As he wipes your hands clean with a stash of napkins from his jacket pocket, you study his angular face, not quite sure what about him was so captivating that you continued to stare even after he had finished cleaning off the melted soft serve.

“Something on my face?”

“No.”

“Oh. You kept staring at me, that’s why.”

“You… You’re quite handsome, Doyoung.”

“Are you drunk?” he laughs, pressing a hand against your forehead. “No, you’re fine.”

“Why… why did you call this a date?”

“I asked you out and you agreed. Does that not make this a date?”

“I mean…” You shift a little, legs growing numb from being seated in a prolonged position. “You never told me you liked me or anything.”

Now it is his turn to remain silent, and he takes his hand away before placing both palms on the grass and leaning back to look up at the night sky. Following his gaze, the smallest twinkle of a star sparks against the dark backdrop, and you point out another not too far from the first.

“Would it be too late if I told you now?”

“No,” you shake your head, voice growing small. “It’s never too late for that.”

He scoots closer and your hands touch, the sensation shooting up sparks of electricity that warm your face in the cold of the night. Turning towards him, you take a deep breath and press a chaste kiss against his cheek, equally as flustered at your boldness as he.

“So does this mean you’re fine with being my date?” he begins tentatively. “Not a blind date but as a forever kind of date?”

You smile, not at all surprised by his lingering doubt. 

“What do you think, Doyoung? We’ve already had two blind dates and I’ve always showed up. Would I take precious time out of my busy schedule to meet with someone I don’t like?”

“I don’t know, maybe you’re the spiteful type that shows up just to reject me.”

Loud laughter echoes across the park, turning heads to the pair of new lovers who were starting to bicker amid the grassy knolls. Those who didn’t know only see the smiles and warmth in their eyes despite the breeze that blows past, the little bubble encapsulated around the two keeping them oblivious to the rest of the world.

—

“Another mixer?”

“Yeah! Go with me; there’s going to be free drinks!”

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” you bring up, shutting down your computer and grabbing your jacket from the chair. “Why are you going when you already have your Taeyongie?”

Your friend pouts, blowing a raspberry at his name. “Don’t talk to me about him.”

“You two didn’t break up, did you?”

“No. He’s just working overtime again. For the third consecutive night.”

You let out a noise of understanding, then shake your head at the offer. 

“I do enjoy free drinks, but tonight I’m going to pass.”

“Pass?” She follows you out of the office, heels clicking against the tiled floor. “You have plans tonight?”

“Yup.” Into the elevator you two go, and once the doors open down at the lobby, you step out and spot Doyoung immediately. He raises an arm to wave, holding up what looked to be a cup of coffee in his other hand.  

“I can’t join you when my boyfriend’s here to pick me up from work.”