#oh my god. photos that give you a head rush while lying down

[ptergwen]

through the lens

w/c: 2.3k

warnings: swearing and mentions of blood (all fluff tho!)

summary: yours and peter’s date night doesn’t go as planned, thanks to his “little” accident and mj’s photography project

a/n: it’s been a minute but i’m back! for now lol i promise i’ll be way more active when exam season is over <3 this was based off the lovely pic above taken by the even lovelier zendaya and i hope you enjoy these… let’s call it random workings of my mind

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“hang on, can you come closer?” mj instructs you, you promptly stepping towards her. “is this good?” “great,” she affirms and squints behind the camera. “smile really big on the count of three, okay? one, two, three!” doing as she says, you give mj your cheesiest grin with your eyes squeezed shut and all. she snickers while snapping the moment on her polaroid.

mj asked you to be her subject for a photography project. you’re happy to do it, although it’s super last minute. like, barging-into-your-room-and-begging-you-for-help last minute. she was supposed to turn this in days ago. lucky for mj, her teacher was feeling generous and gave her an extension.

you have to work fast because of mj’s deadline and your plans with peter. he’s coming over for a movie marathon and cuddles right about now. well, he’s actually running a tad bit late. that’s typical peter for you.

“just a couple more, and then you’re free,” mj informs you while shaking out the polaroid. “this is honestly pretty fun, you know.” you glance at the photo she’s holding with an eyebrow quirked in surprise. she captures you well. “what made you choose me?” “no one else was free on a saturday,” she snorts and tosses the picture in a pile with the rest.

your mouth falls agape. “i’m not free! peter’s gonna be here in…” you check the time on your phone, much to your dismay. “he’s a few minutes late, but still. i have things to do, too.” a smirk sets on mj’s face as she gets ready for the next photograph. “relax, y/n/n. i was kidding. i’m sure spider-dweeb will be here sooner than you know it.” sighing lightheartedly, you take a seat on your bed.

“don’t call him that,” you shake your head. mj throws her own head back to the ceiling. “ugh, but that was a good one,” she insists, you only humming. “it’s better than penis parker, at least.” “nah, i like the alliteration,” you laugh out and earn a giggle from mj. “you’re lucky parker doesn’t have super hearing, or does he?” winking, you hit a pose for mj. you’re looking at her over your shoulder with smolder eyes.

“ask him yourself, after you get this shot.”

the two of you continue messing around with her polaroid until the film is almost gone, and peter has yet to arrive. you’re starting to worry. you aren’t sure where he could be.

he doesn’t patrol on weekends unless it’s an emergency, and he would’ve told you if there was one already. he’s never this late without sending a text, either. it’s almost an hour past when date night should’ve started. on the other occasions peter has gone off the grid, they didn’t end well.

“i’m freaking out, em. do you think he’s in some kind of trouble?” you ask mj, pacing around your bedroom. she offers a sympathetic shrug. “maybe he just ate some bad yogurt. remember last time?” being the dummy he is, peter once scarfed down an entire tub of vanilla yogurt before he realized it was expired. no one heard from him for days. he didn’t show up to school or answer any calls.

may ended up inviting you over and explaining he’d gotten a stomach bug, which you then tended to him for the rest of. the story was so amusing, and so peter.

“may doesn’t buy him dairy anymore. why do you think he always raids your freezer?” you bring your fingers up to rub your temples. “the kid can empty ice cream cartons in one bite,” she agrees, silently cringing. her curiosity piques at the fact. “is that also a power?” “who cares?” you nearly shout, your fingers curling into fists. “what i wanna know is if peter is fucking okay.”

on cue, there’s a knock at your apartment door. you and mj exchange looks of urgency, both rushing out of your room to answer.

mj follows you through the hall and stands by your side while you fumble with the lock. when your door pulls open, ned has his hand raised to knock again. “ned? what are you doing here?” you don’t give him the chance to speak. “have you heard from peter? he was supposed to be here a while ago, but he never showed.” rather than answering in words, ned takes a step aside.

the sight you’re met with makes you gasp. peter peeks out from behind him, cuts and bruises littering his flushed face. he gives you a lopsided smile.

“you have your answer,” mj murmurs to you and eyes ned curiously. he lets out a nervous chuckle. “here he is.” you push past ned and practically jump into peter’s arms, your hug bone-crushing. “peter, oh my god! are you okay?” wincing, peter hugs you back by your waist. his chin rests carefully on your head.

“hey… i’m alright, baby. still pretty sore, though,” he sucks his lower lip between his teeth. you take the hint to loosen your grip on him. “i was worried something bad might’ve happened to you. i… i guess i was right.” your tone softens, you threading a hand in his curls. they’re completely disheveled from whatever went down with him.

ned heads inside to catch up with mj, the two of them letting you have a moment alone.

“someone’s got a spidey sense of their own, huh?” peter tries to lighten the mood by joking. it doesn’t work, a frown still evident on your face as you try to untangle his once soft locks. “baby, everything’s fine. i just… had a little accident is all. no big deal,” he reassures you and moves in to peck your lips. you’re so shocked that you dodge the kiss.

“little? your whole face is black and blue, pete!” you tug on the white collar of his button up, peter letting out a shaky breath. your other hand comes to rest on his cheek, touch gentle. “how’d you get like this?” he licks across his lips shyly and sets his hands on your hips. “see, on the way over there were these bad guys who-“

“no there weren’t,” ned cuts in, scoffing at the beginning of his friend’s story. peter shoots him a warning look over your head. “yes there were, ned. you weren’t even there!” he catches mj glaring at him before he continues. “don’t listen to him. anyway, i had to fight them because…” when he trails off, you stroke your thumb across his cheek, avoiding any wounds in the way. raising both eyebrows, mj speaks up.

“because why? go on, parker. i’m intrigued,” she encourages him. everyone can tell peter is lying except you. the question really is, what’s he lying about? he gulps down his spit, pulling your body against his for comfort. “take your time, peter. we can wait,” you say only for him to hear. his love filled eyes meet yours, and he nods. ned huffs at the dramatics unfolding before him.

“dude, you’re making this way worse than it actually is. just tell her!” he demands, mj cocking her head to the side. peter’s gaze flits between the two of them. “tell me what?” you wonder softly and tilt his chin, willing him to look at you again. “i… i…” peter’s shoulders slump, his voice lowering in defeat. “there weren’t any bad guys.”

“of course there weren’t,” ned confirms. “no shit,” mj adds. exhaling, you wait for your boyfriend to further elaborate. “what really happened, then? be honest, pete.” peter lets go of you so he can come into your apartment properly, you shutting the door behind him. he scratches the back of his neck as he fills you in. “ok. um, me and ned were hanging out.”

ned is attempting to stifle a laugh for some reason, which mj elbows him for. you take one of peter’s hands. “yeah?” “we were at my place, and… you know those really slippery steps on the sixth floor?” peter pauses for someone to answer, playing with your fingers. “the ones flash almost wiped out on once?” mj questions in amusement. he lets a quiet chuckle out. “good times. yeah, those.”

his gaze averts to the ground, you listening on. “so, i was walking ned out on my way over. we were talking about spidey stuff-“ “as per usual,” mj mumbles to herself. ned raises his hands in defense. “—and i told ned i could always stick my landings. he didn’t believe me.” you playfully roll your eyes, seeing where this is going. “so… i, uh, decided to show him,” peter finishes off.

“i did a, um, backflip. tripped and fell down the flight of stairs,” he finally admits to you, putting his other hand on top of your intertwined ones. “clearly, i was wrong.” his bloody face is now red from humiliation. “you didn’t trip, dude. you freaking summersaulted!” ned corrects him and bursts into laughter he’s been holding back. “idiots, both of you,” mj simply remarks.

“that’s it? why didn’t you just say that?” you almost laugh yourself. groaning, peter rests his forehead against yours. “because it’s embarrassing! i wanted you to think i’m a tough guy or whatever.” placing both hands on his cheeks this time, you nuzzle your nose against his. “you don’t have to be a tough guy to impress me, babes. you’re kind, smart, funny. makes up for you being such a klutz.”

peter cracks a grin, easily capturing your lips in the kiss he didn’t get to before. it doesn’t last long because mj gags and ned whistles at you. you’re both giggling when you pull apart, peter kissing the tip of your nose for good measure.

“you really mean that?” he checks, tucking back a strand of hair from your face. “of course. i have a thing for himbos,” you tease and poke at his bare chest. his eyes widen. “how about i get you some ice and you find our first movie?” you’re already off to the kitchen, beaming at peter. “date night’s still on?” he happily plops down on your couch, mj showing ned her pictures from earlier.

“as soon as those two get out of here,” you call loudly enough so ned and mj hear you. “yeah, yeah. we’re leaving,” mj deadpans, shoving the photos back into her portfolio. peter glances over at it curiously. “what’s that for?” “photography project,” she says and gets an idea. “i have some film left. y/n took up most of it… you losers want the rest?”

while mj coerces her way to a higher grade, you put some popcorn in the microwave for your movie marathon.

“well, i could use a new lockscreen. i’m in!” ned quickly concedes. him and mj both give peter hopeful looks. “i’m not!” he protests, squishing one of your pillows against his chest. “with my face looking like… this? forget about it.” mj walks over to him and places her portfolio on the coffee table. “what? those gashes are gnarly… in a good way, i mean,” she promises.

“painful, too,” peter murmurs. “y/n, hurry up with that ice!” mj demands, grabbing the polaroid camera from its string around her neck. you wave her off. “what i’m saying is, they’ll look sick in my portfolio.” mj forces a smile, ned looking at her weirdly. “uh, what’s the theme of your project again?” “freestyle, baby,” mj casually replies.

peter comes up with a condition that could persuade him. “if you say please, i might consider it,” he concludes, mj perking up. “please be in my project. pretty please?” she instantly requests, ned pursing his lips from behind her. peter rubs his chin. “y/n, what do you think? should i?” you pipe in from the kitchen. “yeah, so she’ll leave my house.”

“you heard the lady. i’ll do it,” peter gives in. all but squealing, mj gestures for ned to sit. “this’ll only take a few minutes. you guys are really saving my ass.” ned gets comfortable next to peter on the couch, who wants to see how far mj will really go. “aw, we are? i believe that calls for a…” ned catches on. “it comes after please…” mj picks up her camera with gritted teeth. “thank you, morons. say cheese!”

that’s the only warning peter and ned get before they’re blinded with the flash. ned does a toothy grin as he leans into peter’s side. peter musters up the best smile he can, hair a mess and cuts burning pink on his face. satisfied, mj snatches the photograph as it pops out.

“pleasure doing business with you two,” she states, you joining the three of them in the living room. you set the popcorn on the table and give peter his ice pack. he presses it to his cheek, kissing the back of your hand. “send me that!” ned reminds mj, helping himself to your bowl of popcorn. she salutes him.

“there’s my star. what do you say, y/n? wanna take one more really quick?” mj suggests, already holding up her polaroid. you take the other cushion next to peter, your head on his shoulder. “can peter be in it with me? since he’s in the modeling mood tonight.” he wraps an arm tightly around you. “let’s do it, sweetness.”

eagerly jumping in front of you two, mj crouches down to get a better angle. “on the count of three. one, two, three!” the camera clicks, and you surprise peter by laying a smooch on one of his cheeks. he’s holding the ice against his other, genuinely smiling for this picture. ned coos at you, mj showing off her work when it dries.

“how adorable,” she says sarcastically but means it. peter nods at her in appreciation, his lips brushing the side of your head. “what can i say, you’re a pro,” you compliment mj. “come on, em!” ned cheers through a mouthful of popcorn.

tonight was an unexpected and exciting mess, even if your date night did get crashed.

[pascalpanic]

Drunk Words (Frankie Catfish Morales x f!Reader)

Drunk Words / Sober Thoughts part one of two

Summary: Frankie’s drunk off his ass and needs a ride home. PART ONE of a two part Frankie fic

W/C: 2.7k+

Warnings: language, copious amounts of alcohol, Frankie is absolutely shitfaced

A/N: THANK U TO MY BABE @sanchosammy for this idea!!! I love it so much I fuckin LOVE my baby frankie

As you roll over in bed, you groan. You’ve been up for about 20 minutes now, unable to return to the blissful sleep that had been enveloping you before. The time on your watch now reads 3:07. You frown and grab your phone, lying on your side. The light is bright enough to make you squint, and you smile at the text thread you’ve received from Frankie tonight.

The man brings nothing but happiness to your life. You really do love Frankie, not just platonically. You want to hold his big and strong hands, want to lift up his ball cap and kiss him on the forehead, want to fluff the hat hair he always gets from that Standard Oil cap. More than anything, you want to softly kiss that little patch in his beard. It’s just existing there, perfectly clean even when he’s almost at a full beard. His tough fingers scratch it and you giggle, looking away when he asks what’s so funny. Nothing, Fish, you immediately reply. Fishie, if you’re feeling a little more flirtatious.

Frankie might be feeling the same, you’ve noticed lately. He’s a little more touchy with you. He hugs you longer than the other men, makes you dance with him when a good song comes on. He lets it happen when you steal his ball cap and wear it, where he’d scold and smack any of the other men for it. He lends you his flannel when you’re cold, wrapping it gingerly around your shoulders.

It’s been a long time that you’ve been friends now. Just recently, you’ve come to appreciate him differently. The way he hugs you warms your heart still, but it makes your heart race and your hands sweat. It makes you want to lift your face from where it rests in his neck and kiss him softly, your fingers working into that little bald patch on his jaw.

Even now, as he’s clearly drunk, you adore him. How can you not?

Frankie 🚁: attachment: one image

You open the photo and laugh. It’s a blurry selfie of Frankie, an arm draped over Santiago’s shoulders. The two men make faces like they’re going to bite the other, and it makes you chuckle aloud. You can see his fluffy curls peeking out from beneath the cap, and you desperately want to play with them. The image is blurry, showing that it must’ve been moving while he took it.

Frankie 🚁: missing u tonight, Santiago says he doesn’t like me when you’re not around

Frankie 🚁: holy fuck their new beer is really good, you gotta try it soon

Frankie 🚁: lol I fuckin love the nachos here

Frankie 🚁: snati is so annoying, pls get him away from me

Frankie 🚁: u r probably sleep sorry :((((

Frankie 🚁: can we got o a zoo soon?? I wanna see animals 🦫🐈🐕‍🦺🦡

You laugh out loud at the words, at Frankie’s terrible typing. He must be shitfaced. He’s hilarious when he’s drunk.

The last text was only four minutes ago.

Me: Alright, Fishie. Stop drinking and eat something. No more beer.

Frankie 🚁: ha I’m drinking that Coffey shit… Kalua?? isk but it’s so gooood

Your phone rings, filling the screen with your profile picture of Frankie. It’s a photo of him smiling, his dimple evident. Your cheek is pressed to his, grinning just as wide. God, he’s so fucking cute. You love him so much.

You take a second and stare at the photo before pressing the answer button and putting it on speaker. “Hey, Fish.”

“Hey,” he laughs, dragging the word out long and slow. “S’a shame you weren’t here, Will’s been buying all night.” His words are slurred and woozy. You can hear the roar of the bar behind him.

“Ah, so that’s why you’re shitfaced,” you laugh into the phone.

“Precisely,” he slurs, a smile clear in his voice. “I can’t drive.”

“I’m glad you realize that. What do you want me to do about that? I can have an Uber coming your way in ten minutes.”

“Will you pick me up?” He asks, his voice like a child’s. “Fuckin’ Ubers cost money, ‘n I just wanna see your pretty face.”

“Frankie,” you warn but feel your body warm at the notion.

“You got a cute little nose,” he laughs. “Just wanna boop it. Can I boop it? Just go… boop, boop boop. Right on the nose.”

You sigh. “Fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. You’re so fucking lucky I think you’re cute.”

“Thank you,” he practically sings. “See you then. Mwah.”

You throw on a hoodie and walk to your car, not caring to cover up your patterned flannel shorts that you sleep in. Your hair is messy, you don’t have makeup on, you don’t really give a shit. It’s Frankie.

Once you reach the bar, you shoot him a text, and the four men stumble outside. “Yo!” Benny calls and rushes over to you. It’s clear his normal balance has left his body for the night, his body a little wobbly. He’s an excited drunk. He slams on your window until you lower it. “Hey, you missed out on a good time,” he grins. His words blur together too.

Frankie follows behind him, an arm thrown across him. He’s still got a little balance. “Missed you so much, cariño. Santi’s being an ass.”

You look up at Will. “These fuckers need a ride too?” He’s the responsible one of the men, even when intoxicated.

He shakes his head. “Got an Uber coming. They’re staying at my place tonight.”

Frankie puts a hand on the car to steady himself. “Knew you’d come. Pretty girl always comes through for me, even at 3 A.M., thank you,” he slurs happily, his eyes half open.

Santiago leans against your car. “Hey gorgeous. We missed you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes. “Get the grizzly bear in the car.”

Frankie laughs at the words. “Ooh, I like that. Big and fluffy but murderous.”

“I’m about to get murderous if you don’t get in the car right now, Francisco Morales.”

“Oh, snap!”

“Shit, man.”

Benny gives a whistle. The men all make noises in commentary and laugh, Will opening the door. Frankie flops down inside. Benny ensures that all of his limbs have made it in and shuts the door. “Don’t party too hard with him tonight,” Santiago calls and you roll your eyes.

The two of you drive off and out of the bar parking lot.

“Hey, Fish,” you say, snapping your fingers in front of his face. “Buckle up. I’m not getting in trouble for your dumb ass.”

“You always do, though,” he mumbles and tilts his head to look at you. “You’re so good to me.”

“I’m a fucking saint,” you sigh sarcastically. “Seriously, buckle up. If you can’t do it yourself, we’re going to the ER for alcohol poisoning.”

“No,” he whines and pouts at you. “Just wanna be close to you. Wanna just…” he trails off and rests his head against your shoulder. “Mm. There. Your skin is so soft.”

“That’s my hoodie, Frankie.”

He takes a deep breath in through his nose, the scent clicking in his addled brain. “No, that’s my hoodie.”

He’s right, you realize. You grabbed a random sweatshirt and pulled it on before leaving. You’re the one who’s always cold at gatherings, leaving Frankie to share one of his many layers with you. You smile a bit. “It’s comfy.”

“I like it better on you. I really like you in my clothes, you know that? Wear them way better than I can. You just look so cute and so little.”

“Frankie, I’m 5’9,” you refute and glare down at him, where he looks up at you with puppy-dog mocha-colored eyes.

“Just look so small in ‘em. I’m like 6’0, you know that.”

“I do know that, Francisco. You remind us all the time,” you laugh, removing his ball cap and tossing it into his lap. “Still shorter than Benny. Get that hat off and I think you’re shorter than Santi.”

“I’m taller than him,” Frankie whines at the reminder. “How come Benny’s the baby and he’s so tall? He’s like a fuckin’ giraffe up there, can never see his stupid face,” he pouts.

“He’s too tall for comfortable hugs,” you nod in agreement. “And Santi is too short. And Will is too fucking awkward,” you laugh. You purposely leave out the bit about how perfect hugs from Frankie are, how much you dream about them and crave them.

His dark brows furrow as he looks up at you with glazed eyes. “Wha’bout me?”

The car stops for a moment as a light in front of you turns red. You smile down at him and push his messy curls from his forehead. “I like hugging you. You’re comfy.”

“Ha, grizzly bear hugs,” he slurs. “Y’should call me that more often. I like it when you call me things the boys don’t. Makes me feel tingly,” he laughs, lovestruck as he looks up at you.

“Tingly?”

“Yeah, like when they put the meds in before they steal your teeth.”

“Steal your teeth?” You laugh loudly, toying with one of the curls. “Do you mean get a tooth removed?”

“Same thing. I don’t like it when they do it then. I like it when you call me stuff though. Fishie makes me laugh and feel happy.”

“Oh yeah?” God, he’s so fucking precious. He looks at you like a puppy stares at their owner, pure and unadulterated love radiating from them. “I’ll need to call you Fishie more often then.”

It’s quiet for a while. Frankie’s head still rests against your shoulder. He can feel all of the tiny muscles move as you steer and navigate the car. He likes the way they move, making his drunken head even more floaty. After a few moments, he shifts to lean against the car door, just watching you.

The music drifting from the radio is soft and quiet. You almost think Frankie’s fallen asleep, since he’s so quiet, but you look over and see him gazing over at you. “Penny for your thoughts, Fish.”

You’re expecting something stupid. Frankie is quite the philosopher when he’s drunk, always asking odd rhetorical questions. ‘Is a muffin an unfrosted cupcake?’ has always been a favorite of his. He’s never quite made up his mind about it, waxing poetic about the difference in the two baked goods.

He always says something stupid, but this time, his sober thoughts become his drunken words. “You’re the most absolute prettiest woman I’ve ever seen,” he smiles at you, those pink lips curled into a soft smile. It shows off his dimple, and you want to scream from how cute he looks. One of his big hands reaches over and cups your face.

“You’re drunk,” you shake your head, looking back at the road. “Don’t be stupid.”

“No, I mean yeah. Kinda drunk and really stupid, ha, but I mean it. You’re so fuckin’ pretty, cariño.” The backs of his fingers trace across the side of your face, resting on the side of your neck now.

You look down at yourself, still skeptical. “No, I know what you’re gonna say,” he pouts, beating you to the punch. “You’re in your pajamas and your hair is all messy ‘n whatever, but you’re so pretty. Your face is so cute. I love your nose. Just wanna…” he leans over and makes good on his promise for earlier. “Boop,” he coos as he pokes the tip of your nose, smiling wide. “You’re so cute. The guys make fun’a me because I never shut up about it.”

“Oh really?” you ask, raising an eyebrow and laughing.

“Yeah. Santi says I’m in love with you,” he murmurs, sitting back against the car window.

You gulp as you force yourself to grip the steering wheel harder, staring at the white dashes separating the two-lane road. “Yeah? What do you have to say on the matter?”

“I’m kinda thinkin’ he might be right.” His voice is small and quiet.

You shake your head again, eyes watering from the honesty. There’s no way he can think that. He’s shitfaced. He doesn’t mean it, there’s no way. He’s never been more than a friend, done anything to indicate romance.

Or… maybe he has, you reflect. He pays for your drinks most nights. He’ll order something you want and share it with you. He’s always a little touchier than he is with the boys. “You don’t mean that,” you say quietly, swallowing hard.

Whatever common sense he has left tells him to be quiet, so he does. He sits there silently for the rest of the drive, the tension palpable between the two of you. When you finally reach his house and park, you hold your breath. You don’t know what to do, what to say, but you can’t just let him go inside without saying anything. He sits up a little straighter as he realizes he’s come to a stop.

You bite your lip and look over at him. “I should help you inside.”

He nods and you turn off the car, putting the key in the pocket of your hoodie. You get out and walk to Frankie’s side, opening his door. He reaches his arms out to you and you chuckle a little. He looks like a helpless little child.

“Alright, grizzly bear,” you grunt as he swings his feet out and you help lift him to his feet. His arms cling to you tight until he’s standing up.

“Thanks,” he murmurs and wraps an arm around your shoulder when he’s upright.

“Don’t thank me yet,” you chuckle.

Using you as a crutch, he walks alongside you and into his house. He fumbles with the key until you open it for him, then lock it behind you. He leads the way to his room, opening the door and sighing as he sees his bed.

“Not yet,” you say as he tries to get to the bed. “Come on.” You pull his flannel off, leaving him in the t-shirt underneath. “Okay, go on.” He flops down onto his bed with a happy noise. Once he’s down, you unlace his boots and pull them off, then his socks.

Standing at his side, you undo his belt. “Woah,” he laughs. “‘M way too drunk for that, pretty girl. Kinda wanna though.”

“Shut the fuck up, Fish,” you laugh and thread it through the loops, tossing it aside. “I’m getting your clothes off so you can sleep.”

“Oh,” he sighs, giggling drunkenly as you pull his pants off. “Kinda feels like we’re gonna fuck.”

“Maybe another time,” you tease and pull the covers over him. Pushing his curls from his face, you softly kiss his cheek. “Call me when you’re sober, okay?”

He frowns and grabs the hand on his face with both of his rough palms. “Don’t leave me,” he pouts.

“Frankie,” you sigh and look at your watch. “It’s 3:35 in the goddamn morning.”

“Then stay the night,” he begs. “You said you like hugging me. I want you to hug me all night long,” he sighs, kissing your fingertips. You smile softly. It’s a good offer, you have to admit. He makes it even harder to say no. “I won’t be able to sleep if you’re not here when I wake up.”

“Lots of things can happen while you’re asleep, Fishie. I can-”

“Mm, Fishie,” he says with a smile, his eyes fluttering closed. “Come snuggle with me, pretty girl.”

You sigh as you look at the man. It’s not like you haven’t spent time pressed into his side, watching a sports game or a movie. You and Frankie are affectionate friends. He looks so warm and inviting, his body radiating heat. “Fine,” you give in. “Only because I’m cold.”

“Not ‘cause you like me too?” he asks and rolls over, leaving room for you.

“We can discuss that when you’re sober.” The spot he laid is warm and cozy, his body heat making it perfect for you. You slide under the covers next to him and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

Frankie presses a sloppy kiss to your head, smiling. You can hear his slow and steady heartbeat. “G’night cariño,” he mumbles, lips still buried in your hair.

“Goodnight, Frankie,” you whisper.

He falls asleep almost instantly, and you’re close behind him. You’ve never been more at peace than when you fall asleep in Frankie Morales’s arms.

-

read part two: SOBER THOUGHTS

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taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867

[edendaphne]

“Discordant Sonata” Chapter 18

>>Click here to read on Ao3<<

>>Click here to read on Wattpad<<

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CHAPTER 18: AFFETUOSO

 Music glossary:

 Affetuoso: to perform with passion and emotion

**Chapter illustration by @corgi-likes-chat​ **

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(Mood Music: “Christofori’s Dream” - David Lanz)

Adrien’s eyelids fluttered open, a sleepy smile still present on his face. He breathed out a long, contented sigh, stretching his limbs out wide enough that they poked out of the bedcovers. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so well.

Last night, after Marinette awoke him from his most harrowing night terror to date, he’d fallen back asleep and something remarkable happened: for the second time in years, he’d actually had a pleasant dream. The only other time he hadn’t suffered from his usual nightmares ever since becoming Chat Noir was on the first night that he’d arrived at the Dupain-Cheng residence.

He tried to think back, wondering what might have caused this, not just last night, but back on that first day Marinette had brought him home. What did these two occurrences have in common?

His mouth quirked to the side and his brow furrowed, deep in thought, trying to remember. He wasn’t exactly in the best frame of mind when he’d arrived a couple of months back, given all that had happened when he ran away from his father; so it was no surprise that his memory of that night was hazy at best. Nevertheless, he hoped to find a correlation; if there was one, maybe he could figure out how to repeat it.

His thoughts were interrupted by a gentle hand sliding across his midsection. Disturbed by his movements, a smaller body rolled toward him, settling comfortably on his chest and breathing out a drowsy sigh.

He looked down and there she was: sweet, lovely Marinette; one of the dearest and most important people in his life. The raven-haired girl stirred, letting out a small whine; Adrien stilled, subconsciously holding his breath, not wanting to wake her and accidentally reveal his identity.

This became much harder when she reached around him, her fingers lightly skimming across his rib cage. His muscles tensed and he bit back a laugh; why did he have to be so darn ticklish?!

He readjusted himself, trying to shuffle out from underneath her; but she clinged to him like an overgrown barnacle, even in her unconscious state. I guess she’s a cuddler, he thought, and he couldn’t help but smile about how well that suited her.

It was still pretty dark in the room, as the sun hadn’t risen yet. He glanced over at the wall clock; he still had about an hour and a half before he had to report to work at the bakery, so he didn’t have to rush to get ready. Relieved, he sagged back down onto his pillow. He could relax for a little longer, he supposed.

Deciding to check his notifications while Marinette slept, he gingerly reached towards his nightstand to grab his phone, careful not to disturb her. He’d deactivated all his social media accounts since running away from home, so there weren’t very many notifications; there was a school-related email and a couple of late night funny memes from Nino.

Adrien checked the Ladyblog next. No news about any akumas this morning, thankfully. However, there were a few blurry snapshots of the previous night’s attack. He scrolled down for a bit, then stopped, his eyes popping open as he focused his attention on a particular photo.

He couldn’t suppress the lovestruck sigh that escaped his lips when he stared at a picture of Ladybug. His Lady was breathtaking, her eyes so ethereal, her smile utterly resplendent. She was indescribably beautiful, both inside and out and there was absolutely nothing he would change about her. He was hopelessly smitten, no doubt about it.

A few months ago, he would have berated himself for feeling this way about his mortal enemy. But his entire life had been turned upside down since then, and he wholeheartedly embraced this unexpected development.

The next photo was taken after the akuma was purified and the Miraculous Cure had set everything back to where it should be. Ladybug had seen that Alya was about to snap a photo, so she grabbed Chat and turned him around to face the camera, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. She grinned widely, and did a peace sign with her free hand. So cute.

He glanced over to his own face and instinctively grimaced. He was winking at the camera with a goofy, cheerful salute, not bothering to channel the suave, sophisticated mannerisms of a proper model that he’d incurred over the years. God, I’m so cringy, he thought.

Nevertheless, he saved the picture onto his phone. It was the first photo of them together like this, as opposed to impersonal ones taken by the media from afar, or during press releases and interviews.

It had only been posted a few hours ago, but already it had thousands of likes and comments. He didn’t dare look through those, however. Not since he first discovered the kinds of things people wrote about Chat Noir, both before and after his change in alliances. It was better to avoid those, lest he ruin his day reading about how much some people still hated him.

But he remembered Marinette’s words from the night before. She was right; he had to have hope, and believe that things would slowly get better. Attitude was everything.

Speaking of Marinette…

He looked down at his roommate once again. By this point, she’d slinked and climbed almost entirely on top of him, utilizing him like a mattress. His eyebrows scrunched together, and he wondered how in the world he’d be able to slip out of bed undetected.

All the stealth-based videogames I’ve ever played have prepared me for this moment. I got this!! he thought, hyping himself up.

Taking a deep breath in, he rolled over to his side, managing to slide Marinette’s ragdoll-like form back onto the mattress. She made a small noise and he froze, electricity crawling up the back of his neck. A few tense moments passed, and her stirring subsided, her breathing becoming slow and even once again. He exhaled, just now realizing he’d been holding his breath.

Freedom!! Adrien celebrated as he stood, stretching his arms high over his head, taking care not to hit the ceiling lights. His skin felt grimy with dried sweat from the night before; a shower was exactly what he needed right now. He tiptoed over to get a change of clothes from the dresser, giving the occasional glance towards the bed to make sure Marinette was still asleep.

As he made his way to the bathroom, he stopped by her side, a warm smile spreading across his face. He bent over and gave the top of her head a small kiss. Where would he be without her and her family? She and Sabine especially went out of their way to help him feel at home, to make him feel like he belonged, instead of treating him like a nuisance, or like some freeloader just taking up space. He loved them all so much; he vowed to himself to make it up to them someday.

He pulled the bedcovers up to Marinette’s shoulders so she wouldn’t miss the extra warmth too much, then made his way to the bathroom to start the day.

--

Marinette stirred, enveloped in softness and a familiar scent of spice and fresh rain. Eyes still closed, she extended her arm, reaching for the oversized cat pillow on her bed that she always liked to cuddle.

Her searching hand found something soft. Aha! She brought it closer, snuggling it tight, then began to get comfortable again. But then, her pillow started poking her cheek, over and over and over. The pillow’s poking only intensified when she tried squeezing it even harder. How rude!

Wait... what?

A single eyelid groggily slid open, meeting a small pair of eyes of a distinctive shade of green. A rather frazzled-looking Plagg stared back, his expression unamused from being squished between her and the pillow she was hugging.

“Sorry, Plagg,” she slurred sleepily as she pulled away to give him some space. “What are you doing here?”

He crossed his little arms, raising a brow. “I live here, remember?”

“But why are you in my room–– oh, wait…” she stopped, the memory of last night starting to rush back to her. This wasn’t her room; it was Chat’s. She’d slept in his room last night. And the bed she was lying in was his bed. These were his blankets and pillows, and they carried his scent. Heat rose to her face and a multitude of imaginary butterflies swarmed in her stomach as she realized that she’d actually spent the night with him, albeit under less than ideal circumstances.

And then a second realization dawned on her: Chat Noir was gone.

She sat up with a start, her head whipping back and forth to search for him. As she was about to panic, she heard the shower running in the en suite bathroom, punctuated by some cheerful humming. With a heavy, relieved sigh, she laid back down, careful not to squish the tiny cat god next to her.

“By the way, Little Bug,” Plagg murmured, meekly rubbing the back of his head. “Thanks for helping my kid last night.”

“Oh, of course, Plagg!” she replied. “I’m always happy to help however I can.”

He gave her a melancholy smile. “I just wish there was more I could’ve done. I tried waking him up myself, but he couldn’t hear me at all, no matter how hard I tried.” He sighed, twisting his mouth into a pained frown. “He doesn’t deserve this. He's already gone through so much.”

“Plagg, no, it’s okay! You did your best, and I’m sure Chat knows that too. I’m just glad I was able to get through to him. It was lucky that I happened to be downstairs at that time. Chat couldn’t ask for a better friend than you.”

Plagg grinned widely at her. “I always knew I liked you,” he remarked, scooting closer and nuzzling into her.

Marinette smiled back, returning the hug and kissing the top of his head, followed by providing him with some gentle scratches behind the ears. He let out a small, contented purr as he leaned into her hand.

After a few moments of hesitation, Plagg spoke again, “Little Bug, there’s... something else you need to know.”

They pulled apart, and Marinette eyed him with trepidation. “What is it?”

“It was too dark, so you didn’t see it, but–” he said with a grim tone in his voice, “–I need to let you know what really happened last night.”

“Huh?” Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “What do you mean? I know he said his night terrors aren’t usually this bad, but was there something else?”

A dark look flickered on Plagg’s face. “Hawkmoth tried to akumatize him last night.”

Marinette felt like she’d been dropped into a vat of ice water. “W- WHAT?!” she sputtered. “B-but how is that possible?! Akumatized?? He was asleep! Hawkmoth can’t akumatize people who are unconscious!!” She paused, pondering the possibility. “Right…?”

“It’s tricky, but not impossible,” Plagg replied. “Hawkmoth knows about Chat Noir’s nightmares, so he must’ve sensed his opportunity and finally taken it last night.”

Marinette brought a hand to her temple in disbelief.

Plagg continued, “I don’t know why he decided to try it now, instead of when he first ran away. And what if–” he gulped, and his voice quavered slightly as he continued, unable to conceal his fear, “What if he tries it again? What if he tries it every night?”

“No… he wouldn’t… he can’t!!” Marinette cried, staring at the bathroom door, her mind racing a million miles a minute. She clenched her fists as she tried not to give into the feelings of dismay and anxiety that were clawing away at her. “Plagg… What do we do?! Hawkmoth’s patterns seem to be getting more erratic and desperate recently. Is he under some kind of deadline? Why is he doing this??”

“I can think of a couple of reasons,” Tikki answered from across the room.

Marinette practically leaped off the bed in surprise due to Tikki’s abrupt entrance. “Tikki!” she exclaimed.

The brightly colored kwami hovered towards them and elaborated, “Firstly, as Chat grows older, his powers will continue to get stronger, as will yours, so you’ll be more difficult for Hawkmoth to defeat as time goes on. Secondly, I think the effects of misusing the butterfly miraculous must be catching up to him as well. His desperation suggests that maybe he thinks he’s running out of time.”

“Out of time? What do you mean?” Marinette asked, confused.

Plagg sighed. “It’s his health,” he answered. "He wasn’t doing very well even before we left. Slowly but steadily, it’s been getting worse for a while.” He turned to face Tikki. “You think Hawkmoth believes that he’s gonna… you know... soon?”

Tikki shrugged in response, her expression blank.

“Oh… I see,” Marinette said, her voice almost a whisper.

Her mind raced, a torrent of emotions crashing into her simultaneously, like a rowboat in a tempest, slamming into a cliffside without respite.

She wasn’t sure how to feel about this new information. Her chest felt tight, like it did when she wanted to cry. Should she feel happy or sad that her mortal enemy was getting sicker and sicker, to the point where his life was potentially in danger? Was it okay to feel–dare she say it– relieved?

What was she supposed to think? As a hero, was it more important to be merciful, or was it more important to be just? Her heart felt like it was being pulled in two completely opposite directions. Despite hating the man with every fiber of her being, part of her thought that maybe dying was too extreme a punishment. And yet, at the same time, the hurt, embittered part of herself thought that maybe dying would be too easy, like he was getting let off the hook instead of being forced to acknowledge his wrongs and feel remorse for the horrible things he’d done.

For years, she’d dreamed about the day when Hawkmoth would be defeated and his miraculous confiscated. It was supposed to be a happy time, full of rejoicing and excitement. But she’d never considered the possibility that Hawkmoth would be defeated by an entirely different force, one that she had no say in how or when it happened. It didn’t feel fair. She hated feeling this powerless.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a brief tug at her sleeve. She looked down at Tikki, who motioned towards the bathroom with a small nod. It was then that she noticed the noise–or rather– the absence of it, which could only mean one thing: Chat Noir had finished his shower, and he’d be coming out of the bathroom any minute now.

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Tikki whispered.

Marinette nodded. She turned to Plagg and whispered, “We’ll talk more later. I’ll call Master Fu later today and see if he has any advice.”

“M’kay. See ya,” he replied with a small wave. “Bye, Sugarcube.”

Tikki looked back and gave him a reassuring smile, then followed Marinette out the door.

Plagg hovered towards the windowsill while he waited for his charge, plopping down with a heavy sigh. He leaned against the window, taking in the many colors of the dawn sky, which looked almost too bright and vibrant for his liking. How dare the heavens look so beautiful while he felt so miserable inside? The day hadn’t even really started, and yet the only thing he wanted to do was to just crawl back into bed. He dearly hoped that the heavy, uneasy feeling in his gut would go away soon.

(A short while later)

Work at the bakery had been lively and hectic today; so much so that Chat Noir had to be reminded when his shift was over and that he needed to head to school. He gave Sabine a parting hug, the latter thanking him for his hard work and giving him some encouraging words as she helped dust the flour off his suit and hair.

Chat retrieved his cloak from a coat hanger by the door and stepped into the stairwell that led to the living quarters, so that he could retrieve his school supplies and exit through Marinette’s balcony trap door as he normally did. That was definitely one of the plus sides of working in the kitchen while transformed; he could wear his school outfit underneath and not require a change of clothes or a shower when he was through. He could merely detransform and be good as new.

As he ascended up the stairs, he heard a familiar deep voice call out to him from below. Chat froze, then turned around, trying to keep his nerves under control.

“Could I speak with you for a minute?” Tom asked.

Uh-oh.

“O-of course, Mr. Dupain,” Chat replied, trying to keep his voice even despite his nerves.

Tom’s face was mostly neutral, but his body was rigid and there was a hint of gloom in his eyes. Chat did his best not to cringe as he stood in front of the much taller man who, despite not being a superhero, looked like he could toss him clear to the Eiffel Tower if he felt like it. To prevent himself from fidgeting, Chat finally opted to stick his hands inside his pockets.

“What is it, sir? D-did I do something wrong?” he asked. “I was running a bit late, so I apologize if I didn’t put something back in the right spot. O-or did I mess up an order?? I’m sorry, I can go back and fix… whatever it is!”

“No, everything’s fine; it’s something else,” he answered, and Chat felt the stiffness in his shoulders ease a tiny bit.

However, it came back full force when Tom didn’t say anything else. Chat’s heartbeat sped up as they stood face to face in silence, unsure of the route this conversation was about to take.

What else could he be in trouble for? Did he find out Marinette had fallen asleep in his bedroom yesterday? Oh no… Did Tom think he and Marinette had… done something unseemly together last night?! Was he getting kicked out of the house?? His mind raced and his chest thumped, and he prepared himself to beg on his knees for forgiveness if need be.

A few agonizingly long and awkward seconds later, Tom spoke again, “Chat Noir… I wanted to apologize to you.”

“Oh, I see. Wait… WHAT?!?” Chat felt like someone had yanked the carpet out from underneath him. “Apologize?? What for?”

Tom lifted his arm to rub the back of his head, his entire posture taut as a bowstring. “We didn’t really get off on the right foot, you and I. You’ve been nothing but cordial and polite, and all I’ve done since you arrived is give you the cold shoulder, and for that I’m truly sorry. I wanted to clear the air and start over, if that’s okay with you.”

“Mr. Dupain! N-no, please, it’s okay!” Chat sputtered, his hands waving frantically. “I totally understand why you would have reservations about me living here, o-or even interacting with you guys at all! They’re totally justified concerns! I mean, up until a few months ago, I was still working with Hawkmoth; so the fact that you even allowed me into your home at all is incredibly kind of you! I’ve never felt any ill will towards you, I swear! You were just doing what any good father would––” he trailed off, trying to keep the melancholy out of his voice, “–would do.”

Tom winced and sighed heavily, crossing his arms. “That’s exactly my point, though. It may have been justified at first, but that was back then . I tolerated you for the sake of my wife and daughter, but I was always suspicious. I should’ve given you a chance instead of just judging you for no reason, especially after all this time. So I wanted to try to make it up to you.”

It was then that Tom brought something shiny out of his shirt pocket. It was an adorable little keychain shaped like a croissant. But wait… no, it wasn’t just a keychain, Chat realized. There was a key dangling on the end. A house key. Tom handed it over, doing his best to try to conceal a timid smile.

Chat gaped at him, reeling from what was happening. “I… I don’t know what to say. That is so generous of you! Thank you, Mr. Dupain,” he replied meekly, staring into his hands at the key. HIS key.

He felt the man’s large hand pat him on the shoulder and Chat looked up, meeting his soft, forest green eyes. “Please, call me Tom.”

Chat had to consciously fight the urge to let his jaw drop. If he wasn’t dreaming last night with Ladybug’s revelation, he was surely dreaming now. “Y-yes, sir! Uhh, Mr. Tom, sir. Uhh, I mean…” he stammered, still not recovered from having been gobsmacked out of nowhere.

The older man gave out a hearty laugh. “Just Tom. And please, if there’s anything you need, just say the word. Even if it’s just someone to lend an ear. You’ve got a good heart despite the bad hand that’s been dealt to you, and you have so much potential. We’re happy to have you in our family, even if you’re only here temporarily. Just know you’ll always have a home here with us.”

Chat’s heart swelled with affection, so full that it felt like it might burst, and his eyesight became blurry with unshed tears. He threw his arms around the giant man in front of him, someone who he never thought would fully accept him, squeezing hard.

“Thank you, Tom! Thank you so much, I’m just–” he let out a shuddering sigh then continued, voice cracking, “–thank you.”

Tom squeezed back firmly, giving him an affectionate pat. Failing to hide a sniffle, he then added, “I should let you get going, I don’t wanna make you late for school.” The pair pulled apart, and Tom ruffled Chat’s hair. “Be safe out there, kiddo.”

After saying their goodbyes, Chat bounded up the stairs, practically floating with glee. He’d missed this feeling; the feeling of being part of a family. As he emerged onto the rooftop balcony, he took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air, his heart full of excitement and hope.

He arrived at the school in high spirits and a huge grin on his face. He detransformed in a discreet location and practically skipped to the school’s entrance; then he entered the campus, carefree, joyful, and blissfully unaware of the dark eyes that followed him inside.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 5 - Cross Your Heart [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Lying is supposed to be easy for spies.

Series Masterlist

You were beginning to think undercover operations were some sort of punishments given to agents, because lying was one thing, but creating a whole life around that lie was another.

Not only were your knives replaced by a bunch of paintings on the wall, you now had some photos in frames; old photos of people you didn’t know, people who were supposed to be your “cover” family.

You’d still prefer to have your knives on the walls though.

“You’re my best friend, you’re supposed to be on my side!” you pressed the phone between your shoulder and your ear, and heard Chloe’s laugh.

“I am on your side, I just can’t do anything about your uniform.”

You plopped down on the couch, setting your heels down on the floor.

“Bucky might be from 1940s, but he knows that it’s the 21st century now,” you said, putting the heels on, “No reason to make me dress like a….weird pin up waitress.”

“It’s a part of your mission,” she reminded you, “What, you can kill a target with a wine glass but a pin up costume is where you draw the line?”

You clicked your tongue, “Anyone can kill someone with a wine glass. It’s not that hard.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Babe it’s not rocket science, you just break the bowl part, then use the stem to stab them in the—“ you got distracted when you opened the kitchen cabinet, “I’m sorry, why do I have so many kitchen supplies?”

She held her breath in excitement, “Do you like them?”

“I don’t know what to do with most of them.”

“Cover Y/N likes cooking!”

“And the real Y/N can’t stand her,” you deadpanned, making her stifle a laugh.

“So he hasn’t texted you yet?”

“Barnes?” you asked, “Not yet. Why?”

“Well, I took the liberty of taking a look at his messages the other day.”

“Oh God, don’t tell me,” you said, “He’s seeing someone else?”

“No no, not at all,” she said, “He’s totally single, and probably ready to mingle. With you, that is.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He and Wilson were talking about you the other day. Well, more like Wilson was telling him to get his shit together and ask you out.”

“I don’t think he’s the type to ask someone out via text,” you said, “I think he will come to the shop one of these days.”

“Why?”

“He looked sort of….” You searched for the word in your mind, “Uh-clueless?”

“Clueless?”

“Yeah, you know how assassins usually flirt,” you ignored her noise of disagreement, “He wasn’t like that.”

“You really need to focus on the personal details of his file.”

You scowled, “What is that supposed to mean?” you asked, “I know his favorite weapons, what knives he—”

“Personal file,” she repeated, “You know there’s more to people than their weapons of choice right?”

“I might have to engage in combat if I’m ever compromised, and do you know how many people walked away alive after engaging in combat with the Winter Soldier in all these decades?” you asked, “Three. Three people; Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, and they are legends. I might be good, but I’m not that good.”

“Just memorizing his arsenal can’t help you in this mission,” she said, “Did you know that he hasn’t exactly dated since becoming the Winter Soldier? His ex Connie ended up having 3 kids and a long career at the post office—“

“What am I supposed to do Chloe, stalk grandma’s Instagram?”

“No, she passed away 5 years ago.”

“Of course she did,” you mumbled, “Listen, I don’t have time for this. I’m already knee deep in my own cover, I can’t get into Barnes’s past when it’ll give me no advantage in the mission.”

“Y/N-“

“Trust me,” you cut her off, looking in the mirror to fix your uniform, “I have everything under control.”

                                              ***

You had maybe like one thing under control and that was the milkshake you were currently pouring into a mason jar. After a crash course in different recipes yesterday, you barely needed any help from your coworkers and seeing that the shop wasn’t very crowded, you didn’t have to rush.

And now you knew how to make three things; pasta, eggs and milkshakes.

If Keith were here, he would’ve said those were 3 main food groups.

“Tara, we’re running low on maraschino cherries,” you said as you shook the can and your new coworker turned to you.

“Oh that’s okay, there’s another jar are under the counter.”

You put the cherry over the whipped cream, and handed the jar to her. “There you go.”

“Another week of working here and you will come up with your own recipes,” she said, “Tell me the truth, are you like a spy sent by a rival company?”

You stared at her, then forced a laugh.

“I wish,” you said, “Maybe I’d be paid more.”

“Good point,” she said and walked to give the milkshake to the customer while you put the empty jar aside, then went under the counter to search for a new jar.

“Strawberries….” You read the labels out loud as you heard the wind bells chime by the door, “Figs, berries—cherries!”

You reached out to grab the jar and stood up but as soon as you did, you caught the sight of the figure by the door and held your breath, the jar slipping from your grip before you caught it mid-air.

“Bucky.” You breathed out, before you remembered to plaster a smile on your face.

Naïve, soft hearted civilian.

He stole a look around as if he expected someone to attack him at any seconds in a milkshake shop before he stepped closer to the counter you were standing behind.

“Hi.”

“Hi-hi there!” you said, putting the jar down, “You came!”

“You sound surprised,” he smiled and you shrugged your shoulders, shooting him a mischievous look,

“Better late than never, I suppose.”

He hissed in a breath, “Ouch, was it that late?”

“Just a little,” you said “So what can I get you?”

He looked up at the board over the wall, “What are my options?”

“Well, we have Unicorn Cotton Candy, Pumpkin Spice Latte, Candy Cane Passion, Lavender Macaron—“ you stopped talking when you saw the clueless look on his face and cleared your throat, “Or hey, maybe chocolate? We have chocolate milkshake.”

“Chocolate sounds good.”

“Coming right up.” You took a mason jar from the shelf to get to it and he grabbed his wallet, making you raise your brows.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Oh come on—”

“I’m going to make you an overly complicated milkshake if you try to pay for this,” you warned him, shaking the can before putting whipped cream on top of the milkshake, “It’s on the house, I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” he said quickly, making you point at him with the straw.

“Either way, I’m warning you. I’m armed and dangerous.”

“Consider me intimidated,” he said with a grin as he put the cash into the tip jar and you narrowed your eyes.

“Bucky.”

“Well technically, tip doesn’t count.”

“I wonder where I heard that before,” you muttered under your breath while he walked to pull himself a seat.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” you said, reminding yourself that your cover probably wouldn’t make dirty jokes and went to place the milkshake in front of him.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” You waved a dismissive hand and rested your elbows on the counter, leaning in slightly.

He was gentleman enough to not check out your cleavage, instead kept his gaze on your face, making you suppress a smile.

“You were right,” Bucky said, his eyes darting around the café after a couple of seconds, “About how this place looked. It is creepily accurate.”

“Really?”

“I mean we didn’t have a neon flowers corner, but…” he trailed off, “Yeah. Yeah, I would say so.”

“Is that why you look like you expect someone to jump out of shadows and attack you?” you asked and his head shot up before he scrunched up his face.

“That obvious?”

“Not that I have lots of experience but so far none of the customers looked this uncomfortable while drinking a milkshake,” you said, “Is it because deep down you actually wanted to try Unicorn Cotton Candy?”

“Oh no, I’m good with classics,” He held up his milkshake, “No I just think that I’m a bit….uh, rusty.”

“Rusty,” you repeated, “On what?”

“On this.”

You batted your lashes, looking up at him and you could almost feel him being lured in.

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow,” you said softly after a beat and he gulped, taking a deep breath.

“It’s just that you’re—“ he cleared his throat, “You’re very beautiful and it’s been decades since I last asked someone out for a date.”

Winter Soldier, credited with over 100 assassinations, you reminded yourself Don’t lower your guard, it’s just a cover.

Don’t believe in your own cover.

You bit down a smile, tilting your head.

“Well, I didn’t think you were rusty,” you said and he raised his brows.

“You didn’t?”

“Not at all,” you said, “For the record, I’m definitely going to say yes.”

“Are you?”

“Absolutely,” you grinned, “Once you actually ask me, that is. With words, not an implication.”

His smile was almost playful, “With words, huh?”

“I’m old fashioned like that,” you taunted him, “Let’s see how we can make it less awkward for you though. Would you feel more comfortable to ask me out if you knew some weird stuff about me?”  

“You know, that would help a lot actually.”

You tapped your fingernails on the counter, looking up at the ceiling, pretending to be in deep thought. Your superiors had always said the best cover stories were somehow based on real life without revealing your identity, so you figured telling him random things about you wouldn’t hurt or put the mission in danger.

“Well, I really like grapes but I don’t like the skin, so I end up peeling every grape I eat, one by one,” you counted with your fingers, “I watched a documentary once and now I can’t swim in any lakes because I keep thinking I’ll get attacked by that weird flesh eating bacteria. When I was sixteen, I was the president of the chess club but I had a boyfriend who didn’t believe in the moon landing—”

“I heard about the moon landing!” he said quickly, “I didn’t get around to watch it yet though.”

“Oh my God, you should.”

“What else?”

“I’m scared of peacocks,” you confessed, “I know everyone says they’re beautiful but they look like they’re waiting for the right time to attack you.”

He looked like he was fighting with himself not to laugh and he pressed his metal fist on his lips, his whole attention on you.

“You can’t laugh!” you exclaimed and he shook his head, trying to look as serious as possible.

“I’m not!” he managed to hide his chuckle with a cough, “Keep going, this is very helpful.”

You heaved a sigh. “Well, do you want to hear the most embarrassing one?”

“Absolutely.”

“I normally keep my phone on mute 24/7 but since last week it’s been on full volume because I was terrified I’d miss something important.”

The amused light in his eyes got softer and he lowered his hand, a smile warming his face.

Hook, line…

“I was um— I was hoping for you to call, you see.” you said, averting your gaze from him to look down for a second, biting on your lip.

His voice was raspy; “Were you?”

You shrugged your shoulders, mumbling an inaudible maybe, and his eyes trailed down to your lips before snapping up to lock your gaze in his.

“What time do you get off work today?”

And sinker.

Time to pull back.

You sucked in a breath through your teeth, “I work at the soup kitchen tonight.”

“Oh –I thought you said it was on Mondays and Wednesdays.”

“I did, I’m just covering for a friend tonight. Family emergency, she says.” you said and pushed your hair behind your ear, shifting your weight, “But my shift is over at 6 tomorrow and I can be ready around 7, I live really close by. If you’re- if you’re free, that is.”

“I am.”

“It’s a date, then.”

“It’s a date,” he repeated and stood up, “See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

“See you tomorrow Bucky.” You smiled as he walked out of the shop and Tara came closer to you.

“Wow, you’ve been here a month and you met someone that hot?” she said and winked at you, “Good job there.”

Right.

Good job.

                                             ***

“So, wait—“ Chloe came closer to sit between you and Keith, holding a huge bowl of popcorn, “He just showed up?”

“Mm hm.”

“And you have a date tomorrow?”

Keith uncapped your beer and handed you the bottle as you rested your feet on the coffee table.

“You’re being careful, aren’t you?” he asked you and you nodded.

“Sure.”

“He doesn’t suspect anything?”

“No, he’s buying this whole naïve soft hearted civilian thing,” you said while Chloe snatched the remote from Keith’s hand, ignoring protests.

“And are you?”

You dragged your eyes from the list of movies on the screen. “I want a horror movie.”

“Well too bad, I want an action movie.”

“We’re watching a rom-com and that’s final!” Chloe pointed at both of you, making you groan.

“Why does this keep happening?” Keith asked to no one in particular and she snapped her fingers.

“It’s my turn and my place so I pick the movie,” she said and shot you a look, “I’m still waiting for an answer, by the way. You don’t….you don’t have feelings for Barnes, right?”

Keith stole a look at you before turning to Chloe,

“I don’t think our dear friend here wants a relationship beautiful,” he told her, “Not after what happened the last time.”

You could feel the goosebumps rising on your arms as a shiver ran down your spine.

“I don’t even know Barnes all that well yet, but I can assure you he’s not the type to—“ you paused, “Do something that cowardly.”

Keith gritted his teeth. “Where is that asshole anyway?”

“Hungary,” Chloe said and you raised your brows.

“Undercover?”

“Yeah. I hope he gets compromised and dies there.”

“Very unlikely,” you murmured, “Anyways, what brought this on? My feelings for Barnes?”

“It’s just that I recently read Vincent Smith’s file,” she said, “You guys remember Vincent?”

“Who?”

“His code name was Marco.”

“Oh, I remember Marco!” Keith said, “That guy took down a whole unit by himself. What happened to him?”

“He is missing.” Chloe said and you pulled your brows together.

“Since when do agents go missing and we don’t know where they are?”

“Since they fall for the target.”

“No way,” Keith chuckled, “Badass spy Marco fell in love? Poor idiot.”

“You’re a terrible person, Keith.”

You sat up straighter, “Wait, did you say he fell for the target?”

“Yeah, I saw the reports from his handler. And now he’s missing, and I don’t want you to run away with Barnes like Marco did with his target.”

You and Keith exchanged glances and you clicked your tongue.

“Chloe babe, he’s not missing.” you said “He’s dead.”

She pulled back slightly, “You don’t know-“

“Yes I do. You don’t fall for the target and compromise the whole mission, not unless you want to end up dead.”

“There’s no report of that,” she insisted and Keith sipped his beer.

“What did his report say, sweetheart?”

“That he was removed from his mission before going missing.”

Keith scoffed, “Rest in peace Marco, you won’t be missed.”

“How do you know—“

“Because that’s the code,” you said, “If the report says he was removed from his mission and went missing, it means he was killed by an agent on our side.”

“We killed our own agent?” she exclaimed and you turned the beer bottle in your hand,

“He stopped being our agent the moment he fell for the target.”

Chloe covered her mouth with her hands, worry etched into her expression, “Y/N, please, please promise me you won’t somehow get too involved in this mission and fall for Barnes and put yourself in danger.”

You let out a small laugh, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“It’s the Winter Soldier we’re talking about,” you reminded her and chewed on the popcorn, “Trust me, that would never happen.”

“Cross your heart?”

You heaved a sigh and clinked your beer bottle with hers.

“Cross my heart honey,” you assured her, “There’s no way I’d sign my own death warrant by doing something that stupid.”  

Chapter 6

[svchengss]

two halves | l.mh

PAIRING. mark lee x reader

GENRE. fluff, heavy angst

WARNINGS. major character death, grief

WORD COUNT. 2.4k

SUMMARY. right after his death, mark watches how you cope with the loss

A/N. i saw this one tiktok and it kinda inspired me to write this

// just to let you guys know, reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !! thank you for reading :D

white walls, white room.

mark scrunched his face, his eyelashes slowly fluttering open, the dark brown iris adjusting the size of the pupils due to the brightness of the walls reflected upon it. a soft groan vibrating from his throat, he assessed his surroundings where nobody or nothing else is present. he looked down to inspect his clothing, hoping that it would give him any clue of this room or space he’s in - an all white outfit. this scene looks exactly like the one in the movies where the characters realize they are dead. except this time, he really is.

THE REALIZATION.

the muffled sounds of cries and sobs rang through his eardrums, triggering a reflex to wake up from the state that he thought was a slumber. he is lying on the hospital bed with the light blue clothing piece, faint light illuminating the space where people are huddled up around him. he waved his right hand in the air to let them - who he later remembered as his family members and friends, know that his eyes are already open. nobody moved even the slightest, the atmosphere being very much dead, scent of medicine intoxicating his mind.

then he saw someone who he holds very dear to his heart - you, enter the hospital room, dropping onto her knees as soon as she saw his state of condition. in an instant, he shot up from his lying position and ran over towards the crying you, shoulders shaking and all. bringing his hands to hold you in his embrace, not even a glance spared by you brought a hundred and one questions to him. why didn’t anybody acknowledge him when he woke up? why can’t you feel his touch?

“mark lee. time of death, 10:23 pm,” the tall doctor with glasses rested on the bridge of his nose announced before leaving the room, holding the clipboard close to his chest. mark gauged the monitor screen next to the bed, the line indicating his heartbeat is no longer showing spikes going up and down - instead becoming a flat line, deafening beep present with it. then he sees himself still laying on the white sheets, eyes still closed and no signs of breathing evident. a surge of panic rushed through his veins.

this can’t be real.

mark rushed into the bathroom, a surprised gasp leaving his lips. his body is semi-transparent, the shape of the toilet bowl can be seen through his left shoulder. his body shakes with terror, slapping himself in the cheeks multiple times just to make sure that this whole fiasco is just a nightmare.

oh my god. no, this is real.

mark stood in the back of the crowd, witnessing the funeral of someone and that someone being him. of course, he’s never expected to get the sight of his own service. his mother is standing beside you, her hands rubbing circles onto your back in an attempt to calm your mourning state. you’re still looking ever so pretty, a black chiffon dress on your body with white pearl necklace on your collarbones and your wavy black hair hanging down your shoulders. not that anybody else would notice, it’s someone’s death after all.

“stay strong, y/n. he will always be in our hearts,” the same rhythm of sentence in tones full of pity being directed towards you. mark’s sister enveloped you into a warm hug despite the chilly atmosphere, whispering comforting words into your ears before getting into the family’s car. you’re not going back home, not yet when you still feel reluctant to let him go.

“why did you leave me?” the only coherent words from your hoarse voice can be heard. mark, who is crouching next to you, is holding his tears back. instead, he sends a sorrowful smile - not that you can see him anyway. is there any way to let you know of his presence?

“goodbye, love. i’ll see you tomorrow. i promise,” you dusted the back of your dress from any dirt or debris, leaving a rose on his tombstone. the thing is, he doesn’t want to part from you. and that’s why his figure is seated beside you in the cab. he grazed his thumb on your knuckles, making you feel tingles rushing through. you pushed the slight thought away, you must be tired to be feeling things.

you slowly opened the door to your apartment, you and mark’s to be exact. the whole house is making those memories make their presence in the back of your head again. the kitchen where you two baked cookies for christmas last year. the bedroom where you snuggled upon his chest, not wanting to start your day just yet. the piano where he sang those cheesy songs for you. the living room where you slow danced at 3 in the morning. his favourite mug resting on the countertop, probably will not be used again. this whole situation is too overwhelming for you. you feel weak.

with each day passing by, you didn’t even miss one without a visit to his resting lot. you would tell him stories of how your day went or something that you read which would made him ponder. the words carved on it are already etched onto your brain.

mark lee. a son, a brother and a loving partner.

the clock hanging on the grey wall has it’s arms stretched out to display the time - two in the morning. you can’t sleep just yet, not having any for the past few days even. dark circles are appearing around your eyes, not yet recovered from the puffiness from all the crying. mark’s heart aches everytime he takes upon your state. he feels very guilty, not that death was his choice after all. it’s simply fate, a cycle of life, a destiny that every single creature on this planet will end up with.

you’ve taken the whole month off work, still feeling ever so helpless. in fact, you can’t even remember the last time you’ve stepped out of the apartment, the night before his passing perhaps? you’ve completely shut yourself out from any interactions - deactivating your social media, not accepting any calls. you just need time to heal.

as if you’re being controlled by some type of mastermind, you shoot up on the balls of your feet, pulling away from the couch. those images of you slow dancing with mark, hands in each other’s holds, your chin rested in the crook of his neck and being ever so engrossed in love are coming back more often now. you trudged to the vinyls arranged neatly on the shelf, picking one before placing it on the turntable - frank sinatra, one of his all time favourites.

holding your hands up at about his usual height, you start twirling around. you can almost see the outline of his smile, his features right in front of you. except, he is. he’s been observing your moves the whole night. mirroring your current position, as if you can really see him, it’s a miracle for him. overjoyed actually, he doesn’t realize the salty tears streaming down his cheekbones and so are yours.

“thank you for coming, dear. it’s a pleasure seeing you in what, weeks?” a laugh escaped the woman’s lips. you reciprocated her hug before stepping into the living room. it’s been a long time since you’ve been here, was it in january? mrs. lee had invited you over for a simple dinner, checking up on how you’ve been. you can see that the family is still struggling over his passing, the way his sister’s eyes are not twinkling as usual makes it hard to cover up the lie.

“you see, this was on his high school graduation day. he was very happy that day, doing all sorts of dances and stuff. finally escaping from hell as he said,” she giggled. she’s been displaying all sorts of memoirs to you, photo albums and photographs scattered on the wooden floor. to be honest, you’ve never seen these before. all smiles mark lee, easy to notice among the crowd. not that he’s changed, he’s still that boy now. mark just sat on the couch - his favourite spot, observing the throwback session going on. if he’s still here, his sister for sure is going to tease the hell out of him.

“he told us so much about you, you know? as if everything reminds him of you, that boy is lovestruck. really,” that sudden confession made your tongue dry, unable to find a perfect response. you were really that special to him.

“drive safe honey, you can come over whenever you want. you know you’re always welcome here, right?” mrs. lee handed you the small box filled with some things you’re going to keep. she kissed both of your cheeks, mr. lee standing behind her giving you a small wave. a small smile crept up onto your face before igniting the engine, turning your wheels out of the housing area.

the netflix show is playing on the television, the faint voices of the characters playing in the background. you’re sitting on the floor, flipping through the photo journal you two decorated throughout your one year of relationship. you can see his little scribbles and doodles, often a little dinosaur symbolising your always grumpy personality.

in one photo, a golden birthday hat is nicely placed on your head with him kissing your right cheek. you remember clearly, a surprise party for you last year. in the following ones, they are mostly candid shots - you blowing out the candles while he looks at you full of love, him eating a portion of your dish while you pout your lips. you would say it was the night of your life, spending it with the guy who stole your heart.

the next page of the journal is a shot of mark taking a photo of you in the park. you suppose it was taken by donghyuck? that one picture of you was stuck as his lock screen wallpaper for a while, you remembered getting so embarrassed over it. mark would give you the same excuse every time you questioned him about it, implying that the sight of you would light up his whole day. cheesy really, but that was what remained as memories of the past, tied neatly in your heart.

the rain trickling against your window eventually made you doze off to wonderland, creating the perfect chance for mark to browse through the journal in your hands. carefully lifting it from yours so that you won’t be stirred from your sleep, he settled down in the space beside your sleeping figure. slowly turning the pages, he smiled fondly at each photo holding a thousand moments that can’t be recreated ever again. some of them would make him giggle. he kneeled down slightly to place a soft kiss on your forehead, making you squirm a little due to the faint touch.

“give him a chance. i’m not saying that you should forget mark but it’s been months, you should live up a little,” yerim’s voice sounding concerned from the other end of the line. perhaps she’s right but you just need more time. but how much longer? you’re afraid you yourself have no specific answer for that enquiry.

you’ve been feeling better by now, welcoming people back into your life and carrying out the same daily routine of yours. going to work, buying groceries, going to the drive-thru and whatnot. of course, the void is still obvious - coming back home to an empty atmosphere instead of him waiting for you on the couch, sometimes dozing off, no more weekend cafe runs. but at least you’re trying your best. you bid your goodbyes before tapping the red button, ending the call. plopping the device onto the mattress, you stared at the white ceiling, deep in your own thoughts.

you should give him a chance. live up a little.

yes, you should.

getting hold of the phone and immediately opening the messages app, you searched for jungwoo’s number. he’s been trying to take you out for dinner for a while now. you still remember his exact words, whenever you’re ready he’s always there, waiting for you. you’re not really sure about that particular question but it wouldn't hurt to give it a try, right?

typing in the words ‘okay, sure’ is already a pressure for you but you still proceeded to press the send button. glancing at the clock showing the time, the notification ping redirected your focus onto the screen.

jungwoo: cool, is tomorrow night okay with you? i’ll drive, of course :)

tomorrow night. okay, tomorrow night.

an elegant red gown is wrapping your curves perfectly, a thin necklace with the seashell charm around your neck while your lips is decorated with the dark red tone, highlighting your poise appearance. hearing the doorbell ring, you tidied up the dresser as your eyes landed onto the picture frame holding a photo of you and mark. a sad feeling crept into your heart but you pushed it away, opening the door to reveal jungwoo in a black and white tuxedo.

you would say that the dinner went well, none of his questions or chatters crossing any borderline. he’s just so polite, even you are amused. feeling comfortable with his presence, the small gap in between is eventually closing down since you’ve learned so much about each other during the other few dates. one night completely changed it for you, him offering you a dance at some event he’s bringing you with.

you observed that his moves are slightly similar to mark’s - not completely of course, mark’s is very unique and very…mark-ish. for the first time ever in the recent turn of events, you flashed a genuine smile. one that is not just for show, one that only comes out when you’re truly elated, one that you only manage to give to certain. mark just observed the scene from a distance, admiring how you’ve managed to find the spark of happiness you once lost.

alas, mark saw his other half become full again with another, her eyes twinkling with the same joy but this time, it’s not him in the reflection.

[x-reader-theater]

hey! could you do m!reader who is a r*p3 victim and the bau gets into the case but Aaron Hotchner has to stand down from the case because he is emotionally involved with the reader. plot thickens!! the reader is Aaron's boyfriend who was afraid to tell Aaron what had happened to him. and in the end it's just the fluffiest fluff comfort from Aaron to the reader.

IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY WITH WRITING THIS IT'S 100% OK I STILL LOVE YOU AND YOUR WRITING❣❣❣❣❣❣❣

This one was fun. I also made Aaron super cute and I love this one. There are HUGE warnings for this.

Warnings: Mentions of Rape but none of it is actually shown it graphically depicted, lying, so fluffy you might actually die

@mystic-writes edited this as well. They edit all of my stuff and I will @ them every single time.

"This… was reported last night…" Garcia says, pressing a button on her remote to show a man with bruises on his face, and photos depicting sexual assault. "This is the fourth in a string of rapes happening right here in DC. This is Dominic Matthews, the first was a Gill Florence, the second a Jackson Henry, the third, a [Y/N] [L/N], and now, Mr. Dominic here."

"I-I'm sorry, say that again?" Hotch asks, his blood running cold as he sees your face appear on the motion behind Garcia, bloody, beaten, as well as graphic images of your rape. "Who was the third victim?"

"Uh, [Y/N] [L/N]. Why?" Garcia asks and Hotch starts picking up his things, and pulling out his phone.

"I have to go. I'm sorry," he says, rushing out of the door. The BAU look at each other, confused, and David gets up, walking out after Hotch. He walks into the man's office and sees him frantically packing his briefcase.

"Aaron, what's wrong?" Rossi asks, but Aaron doesn't look up. David walks into the room and places a hand on the startled man's shoulder, making him jump. "Aaron, you need to tell me what's wrong."

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before saying, "[Y/N] is… he's my boyfriend."

Rossi's eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. "Boyfriend? How long have you been dating?"

Aaron shrugs. "A couple months. It was a spur of the moment thing. And I've always been into men. I'm just picky."

"This guy must be a real catch then," Rossi says and Aaron nods but sighs. "Go to him." Rossi takes his hand away from Hotch who gives him a thankful look. He turns to leave but David calls out to him, "And Aaron?" Hotch looks over his shoulder as Rossi says, "Good luck. I'm sure he's worth keeping."

He forces a smile and runs out of the office, leaving Rossi alone. When he goes back to the Round Table Room, all he says is, "Family Emergency. Aaron won't be joining us for this case."

–

You hear knocking at your door and you groan as you get up, your thighs and back still hurting even though it's been about a week since your assault. You open the door without looking through the peephole and try to immediately close it.

Aaron's large hand stops the door from closing and you sigh as you open the door with a nervous smile.

"Aaron! What brings you to my humble abode?" you ask, your voice shaking with every word.

He frowns. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?" You ask, having your best look of innocence you can.

It doesn't work.

"Why didn't you tell me you were raped?"

You feel the wind being knocked out if you and you open your mouth to answer but nothing comes out. You try and force words out, but you can't. You stand in your own doorway, slack jawed and silent.

"I-I-I-" you begin to say, and Aaron reaches out for you. You flinch away, before your eyes widen, and you're saying, "I'm so sorry! Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I don't know why I did that. Aaron I'm sorry."

You feel your knees begin to shake, and before you can fall to the ground, Aaron has his arms wrapped around you, and is holding you up.

You turn into his shoulder and you begin to cry, loud, wet sobs that only break when you cough, and Aaron wraps his arms around you, lowering the two of you to the ground while you cry and he holds you.

A few hours later sees you’re sitting on your couch in the fluffiest blanket you own, a mug of hot cocoa in your hands as Aaron bustles around your kitchen. He comes in with a bowl of soup and some crackers, putting them on the coffee table for you. He sits next to you on the couch, but he doesn't touch you. Sensing his anxiety, you lean into him, leaning your head on his shoulder, and he wraps his arms around you, tugging you into his lap. You put your untouched hot cocoa onto the coffee table where your soup and crackers are, and you just hold onto him, onto his clean, white button up.

"I was walking home from work," you say quietly into his chest. You're not even sure if he's heard you, but you don't want to raise your voice above a whisper. As if that'll make the memory worse. "He pushed me up against the side of a building. It was dark. He came from behind. Pinned me, face first against the bricks. And then he-" you cut yourself off with a sob but something comes out. You lost your ability to cry any actual tears hours ago.

"Shhhhh," Aaron says, rubbing your arm and pulling you into his chest more. "You don't need to talk about it."

You shake your head. "I want to. I-I want you to know. I don't want you to leave me."

"Oh, [Y/N]..." he trails off, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I will never leave you."

You look up with your red rimmed eyes and ask, "Really?"

He leans down and kisses you, passionately, but not too hard, before pulling away, and pressing a kiss to your nose, both of your cheeks, between your eyes, and your forehead again. "Never. We'll get through this."

You nod, pushing yourself further into Aaron, who quickly shoots a text to Dave telling him what you told him, before turning off his phone and holding you even closer.

"My team is working on this. They will find the person who did this," he says and you look up at him again.

"But, what about you? Shouldn't you be out there helping them?"

He just leans down and kisses you again, muttering against your lips, "I'm right where I need to be."

[recklessmark]

PLEASE PLEASE WRITE A CHEATING ANGST WHERE MARK IS BEING SUCH A JERK ABT IT EVEN THO Y/N CATCHES HIM CHEATING ON HER AND ALSO MAKE THE PERSON MARK IS CHEATING WITH MEAN TOO, those stories are really the best kind of angst - anon ❤️

words count: 1.2k

warnings: angst, cheating

a/n: i have no mood for angst now i’m so sorry. this is not very miserable at all since i refused to let y/n cry pathetically in front of douchebag mark 😡 but hopefully you’ll like it.

you take a sip of your chardonnay, the other hand is still busy scrolling on your phone. your face puts on the best do-not-talk-to-me look while your fingers typing on the screen with a fast speed.

y/n: where are yo-

no, you delete the sentence.

y/n: can you pick me up after work?

delivered.

your fingers idly tap on the bar counter, flashing the bartender an encouraging smile as if you’re not currently having murder on your mind. after about less than 5 minutes, your phone buzzes on the marble surface and you take it in your hands again.

mark: i’m having meeting, i’ll probably stay over at my office either.

your lips curl into a crooked smile. executioner style.

y/n: you better sleep with one eye open tonight.

y/n:

you bite your bottom lip, trying to keep your composure and delete the yet-to-be-sent message. all you’re seeing is red now. mark lee, your lovely boyfriend has the audacity to tell you he’s having a meeting. a two people meeting, one man one woman, in a hotel. little does the two-timing, cheap-lying wannabe know that you’re sitting at the bar of the hotel he takes his side chick in. and you have to clarify that either you and your friends have caught him hang out with other women multiple times but you, a faithful girlfriend, brainlessly believe in him and maybe he will change. the only thing has changed ever since is his loyalty to you, wondrously decreases.

you leave a tip under your glass and jump of the stool. you turn at the corner, walking inside the hotel building. unfortunate for mark is that you have some work here, otherwise you couldn’t catch the sight he wrapped his arm around a girl and walked into the hotel. but work can be done later.

“good evening, how can i help you?” the receptionist greets you politely and you give her a smile. “y/f/n y/l/n, i have a business meeting with mr grey.”

the woman nods and types something on the laptop while you rake your eyes around the building. “floor 8, room 805, ms y/l/n.”

you smile in acknowledgment and turn around to walk away. “oh,” you put on a fake gape and glare back and the receptionist, “may i ask where’s mr lee’s room, i have to take something from him. mark lee please.”

she looks confused but obliges your command anyway. “floor 8, room 802.” you give her a “thank you” and stroll toward the elevator. god must be unpleasant with mark so that his room is on the same floor with yours. you take your phone out and decide to reply the previous message of him.

y/n: i have a meeting at imperial building either, we can go home together.

delivered.

adrenaline and rage rushing inside your veins as the monitor screen displays the red number 8. you take your steps slowly, the sound of your heels clicking against the floor reverberates around the empty floor.

801-805

seeing the gold banner on the wall, you turn at the corner. your head dizzy as you think about what’s happening inside the 802 room. standing in front of the wide wooden door, you decisively press your finger on the doorbell. just once and patiently wait for someone to open the door. although every room is soundproof but you can hear a small voice from the inside after about two minutes, you’re not complaining though, you have big heart for patience.

a ‘genuine’ smile plasters on your face as the door flings opened, revealing a woman- your coworker surprisingly and she only has a towel wrapped around her body. “hi,” you say and walk inside before she could process anything that’s going on. “where’s mark? mark lee.” you ask and opposite of your nonchalance, she makes a quite smart decision to throw a tantrum.

“what the hell y/n?! if you know he doesn’t even like you anymore why are you here? he will never go home so don’t cry and beg for it!”

“where’s ma-“ you calmly repeat yourself and suddenly you see your boyfriend gets out of the bathroom, with a towel wrapped around his hips either. his toned chest and abs look nice but they’ll be better if there’s some bullets shot through. “oh mister executioner, i was wondering where you are.”

mark gapes as he sees you, apparently hasn’t read your new message. he heard haven - his side chick was yelling and he was curious what she’s so frantic about. and now he understands.

you sit down at the cafe table and cross your legs. “you may speak now.” you flash him a reluctant smile.

“speak what? he has nothing to explain-“

“look,” mark cuts haven off and starts his meaningless explanation, “i don’t love you anymore, you’re always busy and your spare time is for work either!”

“my spare time is for work?!” you exclaim, “you are the one who fucking cancel all our dates and hangs out with your side chicks! you think i’m stupid that i’m totally clueless about what you do behind my back?” your voice is shaky yet you try to keep it as steady as possible. you’re not going to cry in front of him and his bitch.

“you call who’s a side chick?” haven yells, pointing her finger at you and you dart your eyes at her, “i’m not talking to you, don’t let me lose the tiny respect i’m still having for you. we’re both women and we work together, i don’t want to be rude.”

“you’re fucking fake as hell-“

“shut up,” mark shouts, making the woman shut her mouth and then turns back to you. “don’t act like you’re not flirting with other men at work, you’re a whore!” he says loudly and you’re practically speechless.

mark calls you a whore.

“since when i flirt with men?” you ask in a calm, quiet tone. you have completely no idea what he’s talking about because you’re certain that you only keep a professional and friendly relationship with any man you know except of mark.

“haven sent me a lot of photos of you and other guys,” he remarks and now you understand, your eyes give your shameless coworker a death stare as she’s avoiding your gaze. “who has the interest in this affair first?”

“me,” mark responds. now he knows how to he honest. “i like her first.”

you let out a chuckle unexpectedly, “so you like hannah, sophia, iris and my best friend as well?” it’s unbelievable that you still have faith in this man even though he hit on your best friend once and she’s already warned you about it.

as mark can’t say anything to defend himself, you stand up, “i’ll pack up your things and send it to your address. don’t ever walk into my place again.” you give him the last peck on his thin lips and walk away but not before giving your coworker a reminder.

“you’ve heard what i said, i hope you’re not the one who chooses to be stupid now.”

slamming the door close, you let out a heavy breath, feeling you’re about to stumble on your weak knees. you love mark so much that it blinds you, no matter how many times you saw him with other women, you still pretended to be clueless. you keep him beside you since you think that he will change but it’s just your one-way deduction which unfortunately could not be true. you hold back the tears in your watering eyes, you will cry when you’re home, not before you get your work done.

[inkandpen22]

Permanent Chaos (4/?)

Pairing: MGK x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: mild swearing

Part Summary: While Y/N is out shopping with Cara, news breaks that ties her with MGK. 

Masterlist

Masterlist

Two days later...

Cara and I go out shopping and have lunch for a girl’s day. I have yet to talk about the other night with Sam. Cara hasn’t mentioned it and I have no plans to either. Cameras have followed us up and down Rodeo Drive. By this point, Cara and I are both used to it. Carrying my bags however, I doubt I look graceful for these videos their taking. Oh well, they have fifteen thousand more of me.

“CARA! EXCITED TO WALK IN THE CHANEL FASHION SHOW?”

Cara ignores the paparazzi and points out a dress in the window at Dolce and Gabbana. I request to go inside to try it on. I’m not sure where I’d wear it to, but that doesn’t really matter.

“Welcome ladies!” A woman in a black dress approaches. “Can I help you find anything in particular?”

I point over to the dress in the window, “could I see that in a size six please?”

She leaves us to go find the dress for me and we roam around a small section while she does. My phone rings and I see Nicole’s name pop up. My heart immediately begins to race. She doesn’t call me unless absolutely necessary, usually we text. I step away toward the corner to be discreet.

I answer the call hesitantly. “Nicole? What’s up?”

“I got a call from Stephanie,” she sounds agitated on the other end.

Stephanie is my publicist, she handles everything that Nicole can’t basically. They bicker a lot since they’re both so headstrong and constantly need control. It’s the classic good cop/bad cop scenario, yet I don’t know who’s who. These two cover every aspect of my career, God bless them.

“Oh no, sounds bad,” I grumble anxiously.

“Depends how you look at it,” she lightens her tone.

“What is it?” I press.

“Well…” she hesitates.

“Nicole!” I drag out her name.

“It’s all over social media, magazines and it will be on TMZ tonight,” she stammers. “I’m surprised you haven’t already heard if I’m being honest-”

“Nicole! What?” I rush her.

“An article about you and Colson Baker just dropped on some gossip sight,” she explains. “It says that you and Colson Baker are dating. Stephanie and I figured no one would believe it but it’s everywhere! They have videos and photos of you two leaving The Ivy plus talking by Sam’s car. If I didn’t know you, I would be convinced.”

My head hangs low as I rub my forehead, letting out a deep sigh. “Oh dear God.”

“We can handle it, don’t worry!” Nicole assures. “This story will be gone soon!”

“I need to go, talk to you later!” I hang up on Nicole right when the woman shows me the dress.

“I’ll take it” I attempt to hurry up the process.

Cara comes up next to me “don’t you think you should try it on first?”

“I’ll explain later but we need to go” I whisper to her and just like that, she’s hurry the woman along at the register.

I have the dress and exit the store in a rush. I must act cool, the paparazzi will take notice of my mood change.

“HOW’S COLSON, Y/N?”

“SEEING HIM TONIGHT?”

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN DATING?”

“HOW ARE GONNA HANDEL HIS FANS?”

“HAS HE MET THE FAMILY YET?”

“What’s going on?” Cara asks concerned.

“I’ll explain once we’re somewhere private,” I whisper so the cameras don’t pick up on it.

We speed walk to the car and I offer to drive since I made us cut the day short. Once we’re on the highway towards home Cara asks what the heck is going on.

“Why did they keep asking about Colson?”

I turn on the radio and Elvis Duran, along with his team, are discussing no other than me and Colson.

Danielle summarizes the article for the listeners. “The article says they’ve been dating for the past few months. They’re very happy but the relationship is still new. The pair has not yet met each other’s families but Colson is going on tour soon so maybe Y/N will join him and eventually meet the family. Throughout, there are tons of photos of the cute young couple leaving The Ivy Wednesday night. There’s even a link to a video showing them, what appears to be, having a deep conversation by Sam Merka’s car. If you watch the video, the two are clearly looking at each other very lovingly. I mean, he’s looking at her the way I look at a fresh pizza!”

The rest of the cast laughs and I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Actually, scratch that, I can believe it. I’m just pissed.

“If MGK and Y/N are officially an item, why did she leave with Sam Merka?” Elvis questions.

“I’m glad you asked! According to sources, they’ve been very close friends since the start of TSL. In fact, the duo have taken many vacations together along with their co-star Penelope Glass.”

Cara turns down the volume and looks to me with a steady expression. “Is it true?”

I narrow my gaze at her in bewilderment. “What? No! There’s no way in hell!”

“Okay, just checking,” she lets out a sigh of relief.

“Never ever!” I add and change the station.

Colson Baker is everything I despise in a person. I’ve never hated someone so fast as I’ve hated him. Us together as a couple is impossible. It’s completely irrational.

_________________________________________________________

Later in the afternoon, Stephanie sets up a meeting for us to meet with Colson and his publicist. I had to drag myself to her office. My Fridays aren’t well spent in an office building with enemies. In fact, my whole day could be tarnished by this incident. The meeting room we’re all ushered into is freezing and I’m still in my sundress from earlier. Cara and I were never able to get lunch so I’m starving on top of being cold. The photos of us play in a slideshow on the meeting room’s tv. An endless cycle of false advertisement is how I see the photos. The media is selling us as something completely far from the truth. On top of everything, I’m in a meeting with the one guy in all of Los Angeles I can’t stand. Death would be less painful than the current situation. I tune out the debate between Stephanie and Colson’s publicist. He told me his name but my brain is so numb from the temperature in here I can’t recall it.

“Y/N!” Stephanie calls my name and I search for her around the room until I find her in the doorway with Colson’s publicist.

“We’re going to go make a few phone calls. You two will stay here while we handle the press.” I nod “sounds good.”

I send her a weak smile to charm her out of an apology for zoning out. She huffs and escorts Colson’s guy to her office so they can talk on speaker privately. I stand up from my office chair and stroll over to the windows overlooking the courtyard. I watch the cars zoom by on the street and businessmen and women shuffle in and out of the Starbucks below.

“If it means anything, I’m sorry,” Colson says quietly behind me.

I nearly miss it, he speaks so quietly. I lean against the wall, crossing my arms as I face him.

“You’re sorry?” I shrug, not really seeing his blame. “Why? It’s not your doing.”

I return my gaze to the chaos below us. I watch as people with office jobs travel about. I wonder if they’ve heard of me? I wonder if they like me or think I’m a stuck up actress? I shouldn’t care what people think, but it’s easier said than done. When millions watch TSL every week, it’s hard to ignore the wondering.

“If I hadn’t walked you to the car none of this would be happening,” Colson reasons guiltily.

I shake my head, finding humor in the situation now. The paparazzi can make nothing into a months long romance. A brief conversation outside a restaurant and suddenly we’re meeting each other’s families.

“We were only walking to a car. How could either of us have predicted the amount of attention that would come of us walking?” I justify, not to ease his mind, but my own.

My flicker over to the tv, I examine the slideshow of us. Examining the photos I realize it wasn’t all in my head, the way in which Colson was gazing at me is a tad bit gawk-like. Images of us walking to the car while I’m answering the paparazzi’s questions depict Colson glancing at me with what seems to be such admiration. A picture of when Cara calls for Colson comes up and I’m stunned by how we look. Even I appear to be in awe of him in return. It’s evident Cara is speaking yet neither of us react. We were so caught up within on another.

“I have one question!” I blurt out suddenly with my arms crossed I walk back over to the table. Just one and then I wish to put all of today’s events to rest.” Colson perks up and hums for me to continue. I point over to the photos on the screen “why did you look at me the way you did?”

Turning his head, he reviews the photos blankly and I wait anxiously for some sort of reason. “I’m not looking at you in any particular way,” he disregards my accusations.

I chuckle, amused by his horrible way of lying. “Lies!”

He’s thrown off by my reaction and I storm over to the TV screen to point it out to him.

“It’s clear as day to the press, the public and now me included. You’re clearly lost in some kind of thought! You were there, so was I and our friends! Say all the lies you want but you’ll never convince anyone.”

His jaw clenches and he avoids my gaze. He leans back in his chair, staring out the windows. “Colson,” I sigh, slowly approaching the table. “Maybe the truth could help the lies disappear! If we’re honest then maybe the press will leave us alone!”

He shakes his head low, letting out a brief laugh. “I highly doubt that.”

I have a thousand questions but I’m aware none will go answered. He’s a lost cause. I’m in this alone I guess. Turning my back to him I return to my position by the window. Observing the worker bees swarming around the spaces below. The sound of Colson’s chair rolling back comes from behind me but I don’t even shift. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his figure in the reflection of the window beside me. My attention remains outside. He won’t give me the time of day so why should I treat him any better?

“You wanna know why I looked at you the way I did?” His presence hovers of me and he feels like a wall surrounding me.

“Please,” I mutter a subtle beg.

 “I... I had this imagine of you in my head, pre-judgements. You’re supposed to be America’s Sweetheart, Little Miss Perfect! You told me you had been working for this for years, had drive and trails.” He confesses. “You’re not what I expected... It caught me by surprise is all.” 

My eyebrows furrow close, “So you thought I was just some pretty face, goody-two-shoes, ditz? If it’s because my image, my past, you said so yourself it doesn’t matter!” 

“No, no, that’s not it!” he runs his hand through his hair nervously.

Narrowing my eyes, I press further. “Why then?”

The door swings open and I straighten up before forcing a warm smile to my face. I step back from Colson before the person ever appears in the doorframe. One of Stephanie employees informs us that we’re free to go. Steph doesn’t want to keep me here all day and since I’m allowed to go Colson’s publicist is releasing him. I clasp my hand together, walking over to fetch my purse.

“Thank you so much!” I gush. “Have a good day and please tell Stephanie “thank you!””

The young intern eats up my pleasant expressions. “You too Miss Voss! Will do!”

The young woman shuts the door behind her and I return to the state I was in. Expressionless, I gather my belongings and Colson does the same. Checking my phone for any missed emails or calls I can tell he’s staring me down.

“Does it ever get tiring?” His tone is light, but I can hear the ounce of mockery beneath the surface.

My attention is locked on my phone as text after text pops up from Penelope. She’s more likely than not has seen all the articles and Twitter posts. I should call her and explain.

“Y/N!” Colson shout pulls my from my thoughts.

“Huh? Does it ever get tiring?” I restate his question back to him. “What exactly are we talking about?”

I slide my purse over my shoulder while stepping over to the door, leaving Colson behind. That is until he follows me.

“Your whole act.” He forces a fake smile and tosses imaginary hair over his shoulder. “The “happy go-lucky goody goody All-American girl?””

I scoff, eyeing him up and down. “You’re ridiculous. It’s not an act.”

I swing open the meeting room door, eager to leave here. My heels clink against the white shiny tiles on my walk to the elevators. After hitting the down button, I call up Blake now that I have some time to kill. She’s my oldest friend, I’m sure she sees right through all of the tabloids and is only checking in.

“Calling your boyfriend?” Colson mutters over my shoulder and I quickly move away.

“Don’t have one,” I answer plainly, waiting for Penelope to pick up.

He smirks and props himself up against the wall beside the elevator doors. I side eye him, all he does is smile all the time and he calls me out for acting so happy all the time.

“Can’t you find anyone else to annoy?”

He grins proudly, “sure I could. None would as entertaining as you though.”

“Geez,” I mumble under my breath.

I pace outside the elevators as I wait for one to arrive and for Penelope to answer. Classic of her to text me non-stop but not to answer when I call her back. The elevator doors open and I step inside, ready to get out of here. I hit the ground floor and Colson strolls in lazily not rushed at all. He checks the button and doesn’t add any. The doors shut then silence sits flat in the small space with us. My phone buzzes continuously, I check the name at the top of the screen.

“Frickin’ frackin’!” I clench my teeth together in a growl.

Colson’s eyes widen at my sudden explosion. Closing my eyes, I exhale to calm myself then bring the phone up to my ear. Smiling helps to fake enjoyment when talking to someone on the phone. Sometimes I can fool myself into thinking I’m not miserable during discussions.

“Finn!” I greet. “What’s new?”

My southern accent surfaces. I flip the switch whenever I speak to my family or friends back in South Carolina. I can’t have them thinking I’m not the same Y/N from Charleston. Colson eyes me with his eyebrows raised, surprised by my sudden transition. He makes fun of me in a whisper for my fake enthusiastic voice. I wack him on the arm and it only encourages him more.

“Hi ya Y/N, uh so ya prolly already know butcha face is everywhere along with this MGK fella...” Finn’s voice falters at the end.

I sigh and press my forehead to the wall. Finn asks me if any of what he has read is true and I instantly deny.

My tone goes timid, “who all knows?”

“Just us, Odelle, Greyson and Myself,” he assures.

A sense of relief rushes over me. I turn back around and Colson sends me a sympathetic look, it shocks me. Going from mockery to sympathy from him has my entire mood shifting.

“What ‘bout Momma or Daddy?” I ask, keeping eye contact with Colson.

“Nah, at least I don’t think they do,” Finn guesses. “I’m not entirely sure. Greyson is sayin’ they don’t. He’s the only one that’s home at the moment.”

“Heavens to Betsy,” I exhale deeply, looking up to the heavens. “Let’s hope to the high heavens they don’t. Thank you Finn.”

I go to hang up but he says one last thing. Bringing my phone back up to my ear I reply. “Sorry, missed that.”

My brother becomes stern on the other side, “do you and this guy spend tons of time together?”

I shift uncomfortably, preparing myself for the older brother advice I already see coming. “From time to time but I promise, we’re just friends.”

There’s a pause on his end, an unbearable pause. “I trust you Y/N,” Finn finally speaks. “It’s him I don’t trust. He’s not the best sort of guy. Ya’ll aint right for one another.”

I hope Colson can’t hear any of what Finn is saying. To keep him from becoming suspicious, I keep my replies indifferent. “Sure thing. Uh, talk ya later Finn.”

“Bye, talk to you soon.”

We hang up and I slip my phone into my purse.

Colson leans back onto the railing next to me. “Who was that?”

“My older brother, kinda overbearing,” I laugh nervously then bite my lip. My accent begins to subside again.

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Colson remarks.

A faint smile appears across my lips thinking of my brothers. “I have two actually and an older sister. The order is Finn, Odelle, me then Greyson.”

Colson returns a kind and gentle smile. “That must’ve been nice to grow up with so many siblings.”

“It was.” I nod as memories flash across my mind. “Finn and Odelle were grouped together and so was me and Greyson since our age gaps are less.”

As we pass each level on the elevator there is a “ding.” Facing toward the doors again, I absentmindedly watch the numbers go down as we pass the levels. My mind wanders to the many memories I’ve made with my brothers and sister.

“Finn is about Sam’s age, so he likes to believe he’s almost a co-parent for me and Grey,” I describe with a pleased expression. “He’s the total opposite of Odelle.”

Colson genuinely shows interest, “how is she?”

“She’s a total wild card! We all joke that it’s every other kid. Finn and I are the rule followers. He was student body president, quarterback of the football team and still managed to graduate with honors. I’m nowhere near him on the perfect child spectrum but I’m supposed to be “America’s Sweetheart.” My parents eat that up. Then there’s Odelle, she’s the total opposite of Finn. My parents had to beg her to improve her grades so she could graduate. I remember being twelve, it was the middle of the night when I got up to get a drink. I went downstairs and saw her sneaking out of the backdoor. She made me promise not to tell our parents. I haven’t talked about it until today. There were days she’d fake being sick just to ditch school with her friends. By her senior year nothing had changed. She ended up graduating but my parents forced her to go to a college close to home so they could keep an eye on her. Her antics continued the entire time I was in high school. College for her was a playground. For some reason, I envied her. I still do. I suppose it’s because no one expects anything from her. She messes up, well, that’s Odelle for you. She causes trouble, just another day. For me, my parents have me up on a peddle stool. By the time I turned sixteen people out here started taking notice of me. When I reached seventeen the title of “America’s Sweetheart” popped up and from then on, I was longer a teenager. I had a role to play and an image to uphold. I could never make mistakes like Odelle. I have to be “perfect” constantly. Sometimes I feel like a doll, plastic. None of it is real.”

The bell rings for the floor. I comprehend the words escaping my mouth and snap back to reality. I revealed so much about myself while I was in that daze, private facts about myself that I’ve never spoken of before.

Straightening up and adjust my dress, I apologize. “I’m so sorry. I have no idea what came over me.” The doors slide open and I step out. “Good to see you Colson,” I rush out a farewell before speed walking towards the exit.

I mentally slap myself for all I confessed. If only Nicole found out, my head would be on a stick. My life, my background, every aspect of my being is supposed to be flawless. An All-American girl from South Carolina with a wholesome up brining is who I’m supposed to be. If word gets out that I’m not so perfect then… then I would be finished. My hand digs for my keys in my purse.

“Y/N! Wait up!” Colson jogs up next to me then steps in front of me, blocking my path.

“Colson, please....” I practically plead in a mutter, stepping around him.

He wraps his hand around my wrist, stopping me. “Let me buy you a drink!” 

Workers around us walk around in multiple directions like zombies. I wonder if they’re taking notice. Hesitant, I narrow my gaze at me. The reason we’re in this mess is because we were seen with one another.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I admit and release myself from his grip.

I only make it a few feet before he’s in front of me again.

“Fine, no to a drink! How about we go get some coffee? Or tea? If you prefer tea!”

His chest rises and falls rapidly, his desperation is evident. The reason behind is desperation is still unknown to me, along with the reason he looked at me the way he did last night. Who is this mysterious man who stands before me? So many questions I wish to ask but I can’t get passed his eyes. Puddles of crystal blue settle on a white canvas. Confused beyond belief, for a reason unbeknownst to me, I accept. Could be my curiosity is getting the best of me.

“Coffee it is,” I give in to his request.

He grins ear to ear and steps to the side so we can leave side by side. “Unless of course you prefer we get tea!” he suggests, sounding a tad nervous.

Honestly I like both drinks but I prefer coffee. He holds the door for me and the bright sunlight of California weather strikes me.

“Nah, I normally drink a cold brew with a shot of espresso,” I describe.

He winces and pretends to gag. “Ew! That sounds horrible!”

“It gives you a boost in the morning! Nice and strong!” I laugh.

“You’re nasty!” He waves his hands in disgust.

“Eh, you’ve called me worse,” I laugh, unfazed by his insult.

He chuckles, “you’re not wrong.”

Our laughing dies down a little as we stroll over to the Starbucks. I peer up at him with a side eye. When our eyes meet we begin laughing again uncontrollably.

___________________________________

Masterlist

Tags:  @canyoubuymetoast @bri-3530 @asil1652 @andstilltryingtofindmyself @nadia2021 @olafsidehoe @mgkobsessed @fairywriting101 @ferrell-cat @naylanae-0308 @tonystarkswife10 @alexsa56 @brocksbabyyy @stormrider505 @magnificenthumancopangel @sarcasticfangirlus @lilramencup95beech @missyviolet123 @skeleton-gxrl @glitterybearllamaflap @margaritaville20 @amoresixx @Thysagclub @hockeybabe87​ 

[sunmoonandeddie]

feelings are fatal (19/24)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader, past steve rogers x reader

word count: 3,667

summary: After the events of Endgame, you struggle to come to terms with what you’ve lost, though you’re learning that you still have something to gain.

chapter warnings: swearing, violence, slight smut maybe??, soldat makes an appearance

masterlist

a/n: This is part THREE of my blog birthday surprise!

It had been two weeks.

Two of the hardest weeks that Bucky had ever experienced in his entire life.

Two weeks without hearing your voice.

Two weeks without seeing you smile.

Two weeks without feeling the way your hand would slip into his when no one else was looking—and even when they were sometimes—and give a gentle squeeze, reassuring him that you were there.

And you weren’t going anywhere.

But he hadn’t had it for two weeks and he felt like he was going to fall apart at the seams. It had been a lot of fits of rage that turned into all-encompassing breakdowns that would leave him dehydrated and exhausted.

His nightmares were worse than they had ever been before.

He hadn’t slept since you’d been gone.

Fuck, the first thing he was gonna do once he had you back was curl up in bed with you and sleep for a year.

Bucky sighed as he sat outside the conference room where all of the planning had been taking place, letting his head fall into his hands. He wasn’t allowed inside. Too emotionally unstable to have a level head, which is what was needed most right now.

But everyone knew there was no way in Hell he wasn’t gonna be part of the team that went to save you. He’d kill every mother fucker that got in his way, that had helped take you in the first place.

Pulling out his phone, his heart constricted as he saw your sleepy face on his lockscreen. You’d been curled up on the couch, wearing one of his hoodies and a pair of pink fuzzy socks with little red hearts. Your little snores had been absolutely adorable, your knees pulled up to your chest.

When he’d woken you up, shaking you carefully with whispers of a milkshake he’d gotten for you, you’d blinked up at him, almost like you weren’t sure who he was.

And then that beautiful smile had spread over your face.

God, anytime he thought about your little, “For me?” his heart was ready to burst.

He’d snapped a photo, which had immediately resulted in you launching yourself at him with squeals for him to delete it.

Which, of course, he didn’t.

He’d give anything to go back to that day and insist that you guys didn’t go on the field trip.

Well, if Hydra had done anything, they’d successfully ruined one of his favorite places in the entire world.

“Hey,” Sam said as he came out of the conference room. “We think we’ve got a hit.”

Bucky leapt to his feet and rushed into the room after him. “Where is she?! What did you find?!”

“There’s a base in Canada that we thought was abandoned,” he explained as he showed him the map of the general area. “It’s small, but heavily armed.”

Everyone around them was already making plans, making a strategy of how they were going to get you out of there and bring you home.

But Bucky knew there was only one way to guarantee you came back.

“Sam, I have a favor to ask of you.” He was sure his heart was going to break his ribs from how hard it was beating as he led the man out of the room, away from listening ears. “I… When I went to Wakanda and I got the words taken out of my head… I asked Shuri to put in a different set.”

The way Sam’s heart dropped was… extremely visible. He could see it in his deep brown eyes. “What the hell do you mean, man? You… I thought the Winter Soldier was out of your head and all that.”

“He is. Mostly,” Bucky explained. Running his fingers through his hair—fuck, he needed a haircut—he took in a deep breath. “I got words put back in with the intention of only giving them to her… In case she needed the Soldat’s protection. We both know that while I’m tough, the Soldat is a machine. And he’d do anything to protect her.”

His best friend stared at him long and hard, his eyes narrowed. “You want me to unleash the Soldat in order to save her. Do you really think that’s the best way?”

“I do,” he said quietly. “Especially because the loyalty to Hydra is not longer in my brain. All that’s there is loyalty to my friends, my family. I won’t hurt any of you.”

Sam swallowed around the lump in his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “And you really think this is the right way?” He asked quietly.

Bucky’s throat was dry as the Sahara as he nodded, both hands trembling. “I’ll give you the words. I don’t want to use them until we’re almost to the base, okay? I don’t want the Soldat to be around Morgan again, even if he wouldn’t hurt her.”

Sam grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight. “Hey. I’ve got your back. And if you believe that this is the best way to save her, then I trust you. I’ll always trust you.”

The Soldat sighed, exhaustion weighing down his bones as he walked down the halls of the Red Room. The mission he’d been on had been quick, but he hadn’t been able to sleep in two days because of it.

All he wanted was his bed.

But no, he had to head to the Red Room to train the little brat.

The little brat being you.

If he was being honest with himself, you weren’t a brat, not really. He was just tired and ready to collapse at any moment, but it wasn’t your fault. You were just a kid.

Well, fifteen. But that was still a kid.

His brows furrowed when he stepped into the training room that he always met you in and found you lying on your back on the mat, staring straight up at the ceiling. What was going on?

You shifted a little, your knee bending so your bare foot was flat on the floor.

He couldn’t help the wince when he saw how banged up your feet were.

The life of a ballerina.

To be fair, he’d seen a lot of fucked up feet since he had started to train girls in the Red Room, but he’d never get used to it. The blood and the half-ripped off toenails and just… Ugh.

Anytime he thought about it, it sent a shudder down his spine. He hated it. He hated feet.

Who would’ve thought that the fearsome Soldat would get freaked out by feet?

You didn’t acknowledge his presence as he got closer, even as his heavy boots sunk into the soft, squishy mat beside your head. But your eyes flickered open as he peered down at you and said your name. “Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

“Laying down.”

“I can see that.”

“Then why did you ask what I’m doing?”

The Soldat rolled his eyes at the impish grin that was spreading over your face. How had it come to be that you could give him shit when no one else could? If anyone else gave him the sass and attitude that you gave him, they’d be six feet under.

But not you.

What made you so special?

“Come on,” you said as you leaned up to tug on his metal hand. “Lay down. It’s nice.”

“But…” He glanced towards the open doors that led into the training room, before being brought back by the tug of your hand again. What could he do except give in when you were giving him those puppy eyes? “Okay,” he said as he slowly sunk to his knees before moving to lie down beside you, leaving ample space. The hunk of a man stared up at the ceiling for what felt like forever, before asking, “So what is this supposed to accomplish?”

“A moment of rest.”

Oh. Huh. He hadn’t… had one of those. In a long time. Anytime he was done with a mission and he wasn’t training, it was back into cryo.

“Okay.”

Your head turned to look at him, a gentle smile gracing your lips. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling for the first time in what felt like a century. “It is.”

Bucky took a breath as he looked out the front windows of the quinjet. They were coming up on the base pretty soon, and he knew what that meant.

It was time.

Everyone had been briefed on what was about to go down, and even if they weren’t sure about it being the best course of action, they weren’t going to stop him. Not when it came to you.

“Sam?” He said softly, looking back at the man who was already waiting for him towards the back of the aircraft.

“I’m here,” he said reassuringly, holding the scrap of paper that Bucky had written them down on for him. “Are you ready?” He asked once he’d joined him.

“As I’ll ever be.”

There was a heavy pause between them, before Sam looked down at the paper and began to read. “Fifteen.”

It felt like the weight of the world was on Bucky’s shoulders.

“Sleeping Beauty.”

He couldn’t fuck this up. He had to get you back.

“Midnight.”

Oh, god, he could feel it coming.

“Sweetness.”

His brain was beginning to shift, beginning to take another form.

“Five.”

The Soldat was beginning to awaken inside of him.

“Warmth.”

This was the best way to save you, to ensure that they didn’t leave the base without you.

“Moonlight.”

He could feel the Soldat’s feelings mixing with his own, the rage and the worry, specifically for you.

“City.”

At the forefront was the demand to know where you were, to have you safe in his arms.

“Sundress.”

Bucky could feel himself falling asleep as the Soldat was taking over, like he was just about to take a nap.

“Plush.”

The Soldat scowled as he looked around. “Where is my malen’kaya?” He asked sharply, somehow knowing that English was the proper language to use at the moment.

“We’re going to get her. And we need your help,” Sam said, catching his attention. “Hydra took her. So we have to save her.”

Everything else in the world lost all meaning as soon as the Soldat heard him. “Where is Natalia? She was meant to protect her! That’s why I got her to get her out!”

Wanda swallowed thickly as she stepped forward. “Natasha died. A few months ago.” Her fingers were fiddling with nervous energy, red swirling around the tips. “She died protecting her.”

It was close enough to the truth.

His spine straightened, his jaw clenching. “Then I will be the one to protect her again.” The Asset looked around, looking each of them in the eyes. “Stay out of my way.”

None of them planned to get in the way in the first place, but they knew he wouldn’t have known that.

As soon as the quinjet landed and the ramp was down, he was off, storming into the base. He left a trail of bodies in his wake as he searched for the one person that had meant anything to him.

And that was when he saw her.

Madame B.

And oh, did he have a score to settle with her.

“Soldat! How kind of you to finally join us,” she said with a cold smile, and he tensed up as you were suddenly dragged out of a cell to his left and shoved to your knees. “We’ve been waiting for you. Though… We did think it would take a little less time for you to find us.”

You looked up at him with those beautiful eyes he loved so much, and he was hit with how much older you were from the last time he’d really gotten to see you.

You were so gorgeous. It was like you got better looking everyday.

“Malen’kaya,” he breathed out, blue eyes wide as his heart pounded inside his chest.

“Soldat! Soldat, get out of here!” You cried out, tears rolling down your soft cheeks. “She’s going to kill you! RUN!”

But he stood his ground, pushing his shoulders back and holding his head high. He didn’t know what had happened to him, but he couldn’t feel that unwavering loyalty to his former captors anymore, and that was just fine with him. “No. No more running,” he said sternly, keeping his eyes on Madame B. “No more being afraid.”

It hurt him to see the tears that were streaming down your face, to see the panic that his words sent you into.

But he couldn’t keep running away. If he did, then you would just be hurt again later on. They’d keep coming after the two of you, and he was done. He was done with the hiding and the running and the being afraid. He wanted to spend his life with you.

He wanted to be able to hold your hand out in public and know that you were safe. That no one was going to snatch you away from him until he’d completed yet another mission.

“Soldat… Soldat, no!” You begged, your body shaking as you stayed on your knees. A pitiful whimper escaped your lips as the Madame cocked a gun and held it to your temple, the metal cold against your skin. “Please… Please, run. D-Don’t watch this.” You couldn’t stand the thought of the Soldat—and by extension, Bucky—watching you die.

And that was certainly Madame B’s plan. Now that she’d drawn him in by holding you hostage, she’d kill you, and Hydra would have their greatest weapon back.

Their Asset.

“Wait!” The Soldat called out, causing the older woman to freeze in her tracks. “Take me instead.”

“What?! NO!” You screeched, thrashing against her hold. “SOLDAT! JAMES! NO!” You were beginning to panic, your breathing coming heavier and heavier.

Fuck, you looked so much smaller than when he’d last seen you, even if you did look older. They'd been keeping food from you.

“I will go with you willingly if you let her live,” he said calmly, keeping his eyes locked on hers.

“Oh, really?” She drawled, glaring at him coldly. “You give me your word?”

“I give you my word.”

He just needed to get you away from her for just a split second. He needed to get that gun to be… not pointed at your head.

He could work with that.

It happened in a split second. Madame B’s hand holding the gun shifted, the gun now pointed towards your legs.

The Soldat had been holding a knife just out of her view and threw it, letting out a sigh of relief as it met its intended mark.

Deep in Madame B’s throat.

Blood had splattered all over the back of your head as the older woman sunk to her knees, the light leaving her eyes.

The look of shock that was plastered across his face worried him. You looked frozen, paralyzed out of fear.

“Malen’kaya?” He whispered, moving to kneel in front of you.

You took in a shuddering breath, your eyes refocusing. “S-Soldat? You’re here?” You asked, fingers shaking as you reached up to touch his cheek. “I… How?”

“I don’t know,” he murmured quietly, cupping your face in both of his hands, both flesh and vibranium. “I don’t know, but I’m here. And I’m not leaving until you’re home safe.”

You didn’t want him to leave, but you wanted Bucky, too.

You were just so confused. The words had been taken out of his head, the programming.

The super soldier didn’t hesitate to scoop you up, cradling you close to his chest as he carried you out of the base.

He hadn’t left a single Hydra agent alive, and that’s how he liked it.

The only good Hydra agent was a dead Hydra agent.

Your eyes were locked on his face as he carried you to the quinjet, where most of your little found family was waiting.

They all rushed to you, finally letting the tears out as they welcomed you back into their arms. At least, until the Soldat growled out a warning and they gave you some space.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” you breathed out as he set you on his lap with a bottle of water, taking small sips. His strong arms had locked around you almost immediately, ensuring that you were stable in his lap.

And that no one could take you from him again.

“It’s okay,” Soldat said as his vibranium hand rubbed up and down your arm, soothing you. “Rest… You need to rest and eat and drink. Questions later. Hard stuff… later.”

The Soldat knew he wasn’t staying. He couldn’t.

He’d been brought out for this specific mission, to rescue the person he cared about more than anything, and he’d succeeded.

It had been an honor, knowing that these people trusted him to bring you home.

Maybe he wasn’t as bad as he’d been led to believe.

Or maybe… Maybe you made him good, somewhere along the line.

And maybe that was the best he could’ve ever hoped for.

When they made it back to the Compound, some part of him knew the way to the medbay, and he took you straight there.

“How did this happen?” You asked, your eyes sliding up to where Sam was lingering in the doorway.

“Bucky… made a plan,” he said as he took a few steps closer, though he kept a wide berth.

Even the doctor that was looking you over kept casting wary glances to the hulking man sitting next to the hospital bed, holding your hand.

“A plan? What kind of plan?”

Bucky had done something to make sure the Winter Soldier was able to come back? But that sounded like his worst nightmare…

Sam glanced at the Soldat, before moving to the end of your bed and holding onto the plastic footboard. “He had them take out the old trigger… activation words or whatever, and had them put in new ones that only he knew,” he said. “On the off chance that you would need the Soldat.”

“He… He did that for me?” You looked up at your Soldat, the man who had protected you, who had cared for you and ensured your survival. His existence hurt Bucky. He was a part of him that he had been desperate to get rid of.

And he’d left a part of him inside, and provided a way to bring him back just in case you needed him.

The Soldat gave you a weak smile as he caressed your cheek.

It was so strange. Even though he had Bucky’s looks, his new haircut and the stubble, the lack of blood or dirt or something covering his face, it was very clearly the Soldat.

“I cannot stay,” he said quietly, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing each of your knuckles. “I wish I could, malen’kaya… But we both know that our time has passed. If I have to come back, you and… Bucky know how to bring me out.”

“But… But…”

He shook his head, taking in a deep breath. “Everything is alright. You are safe. Hydra will never come after you again, especially if they know what’s good for them.” The hand holding yours was trembling, but he kept his eyes on your face. “And I… I am safe. They can’t hurt me anymore, thanks to you and this… Bucky.”

Your eyes burned as you pushed yourself into a sitting position, being careful with the IV that had been inserted into your arm. “I love you,” you said, pressing your forehead to his. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you,” he said breathlessly. “But… Malen’kaya, don’t let the past hold you back from the future. I… Those that hurt you in the past don’t matter anymore. You are stronger than what happened to you.” He held your hand a little tighter. “Do you understand me, malen’kaya? You are stronger than what has happened to you.”

“I understand.”

“Good,” he said, his lips pressing to your forehead. “You will live a long life. A long, long happy life. You have suffered for so long, but that’s over. The time of suffering has passed, and you get to be happy.”

Panic was overwhelming you. “But what about you? Don’t you get to be happy?”

“Yes, I do,” he said, a smile spreading over his lips. “Malen’kaya… I never knew peace until you. I found little moments of happiness when I was with you, in that training room…” The man’s forehead rested against yours, your noses nudging. “You gave me peace. And feelings. They couldn’t wipe you from my brain completely, no matter how hard they tried.” He let out a slow breath, his fingers massaging your scalp. “You rescued me. You are my savior. And now…” He was so warm, like a furnace, and you just wanted to curl up against him forever. “Now I can rest.” The Soldat tenderly pressed his lips to yours.

Possibly the first and only kiss you’d ever share with him.

It was… It was sweet and gentle and loving. Years of unspoken feelings, of the longing stares and lingering touches while in that horrible room, of the wild look in his eyes anytime someone dared to hurt you.

It was overwhelming and beautiful and fuck, you wanted more.

But he was right. The time you two had together was over. The Soldat’s time was over.

He could rest, and that’s all you had ever wanted for him.

As he broke the kiss, he slowly laid you back against the pillows of your hotel bed. “Sleep. I’ll be gone when you wake, but… Bucky will be here.”

Bucky.

Jamie.

Those that hurt you in the past don’t matter anymore.

And your Jamie… Your Jamie had never hurt you.

Maybe you could rest, too. You could have a life.

One with him in it.

[mdawritings]

“Arrested” [Aaron Hotchner X Female Reader]

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Rating: E

Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader

Wordcount: 8,510

Summary: 

The BAU is working a case in the DC area: an unsub killing women outside of nightclubs and bars. When you get arrested and manage to end up in the same precinct as Aaron Hotchner, the team discovers that their unit chief has been sleeping with a MUCH younger woman. Even more importantly, they discover that aside from being Hotch's fuck buddy, you have had direct contact with the unsub. Told through cute and smutty flashbacks throughout your relationship with Aaron.

AO3 Link

It had been weeks since you’d seen Aaron. The first week you didn’t see him was because of a case over the weekend in Florida. You had sent him a few scandalous pictures while he was flying home…

You rest your head against the arm of your sofa lazily. You reach for the phone and look at the simple text from Aaron. “On the way home now. I want to see you soon.” Just those words send bolts of happiness, excitement, and arousal through you. You press the top of your phone to your lips to suppress your growing smile. You text him back.

“Been imagining your hands touching me instead of my own”

Aaron picks up his phone at the chime. He reads the message from you and can’t help but start to stir a little. God, the thoughts of you home alone… touching yourself thinking about him. Yeah, that definitely does something to him. It’s not like you weren’t in his thoughts the entire time. It's difficult to focus on a case when all he really wants is to be home, buried under the covers with you, taking in your light, yet intoxicating perfume. Touching your soft, perfect skin. Hearing you scream his name… He almost lets out a moan but catches himself and looks around the jet at his sleeping coworkers.

He quickly replies to your message, “Oh yeah?”

You jump up from the couch, exhaustion rapidly dissipating from your previously sore limbs at the thought of seeing Aaron tonight. Memories of his large hands touching, groping, squeezing your body flood into your mind.

You hurry to slip on the purple lingerie set you bought. You stand in front of your bathroom mirror. You take a few minutes, capturing some, quite honestly, fucking amazing photos.

“Missing the feeling of you buried inside me” You send the photos along. You grow even happier at the thought of him getting a fucking hard-on while just a few feet away from his sleeping coworkers. You revel in the effect you manage to have over such a powerful, dominant, authoritative man. It makes you especially proud to think about his normal demeanor, stoic, hard-faced, serious, and how easy it is for you to reduce him to simpering, whimpering, moaning mess under your touch. Your phone chimes a mere seconds after sending the photos.

“You are torturing me. We HAVE to see each other when I land”

You fell asleep in your bed in that lingerie waiting for him. You didn’t see his messages until the next morning, saying the sitter for Jack fell through and he probably wouldn’t be able to see you until next weekend.

At the start of the second week, he got called away to a case in California. That one took up the whole week and by the time he got home, he was way too exhausted to spend time with you.

This kind of thing went on for two weeks. A full month without Aaron had been torture. It wasn’t like you expected him to drop everything and come running to you. You understand he has a kid to take care of and an FBI unit to run. Plus, it isn’t like you two are really dating. Do you sometimes wish you were? Hell yes. Is it reasonable or feasible? Absolutely not.

That doesn’t mean you don’t enjoy what you have going on right now. He comes over to your place, tired and frustrated from a long day at work, and he— well he fucks your brain out. You’re always working hard on your Ph.D. and Aaron’s job is just plain stressful. You both need and enjoy the amazing stress relieving benefits of casual sex. You do enjoy each other’s company without having sex sometimes. It usually happens on those weekends when you or he or both of you are way too exhausted. But really, it's the moments after sex that make you question what you truly are to one another…

Your heart rate begins to steady and you can’t help but smile up at Aaron. He looks down at you with that small Hotchner version of a smile. It’s a smile that wouldn’t seem like much to anyone else, but you know how infrequently he lets the corners of his mouth turn up in happiness. “How do you do it?”

You soon realize after letting the words out, (and from the confusion on his face), that he cannot, in fact, read your mind and understand what you mean, “How do you go from seeing all that bad out there in the world to lying in this bed with me with that adorable smile on your face?”

For a split second, you think you’ve said something wrong. The smile falls from his face and his brows tense up. You always tease him about his eyebrows, telling him the more he frowns the more wrinkles he’ll get.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to cross a line—”

“I don’t want to pull you into all this… my work. I want to protect you from it.” Your heart practically sinks into your stomach. That’s not the type of language you use with your casual sex partner. Then again, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t worry every time he leaves for a case. You worry that you’ll never see him again. You won’t even find out he’s dead because no one knows about the two of you.

“Y/N,” he pulls you out of your thoughts. His voice cuts through the silent room and you look back up into his soft eyes. They’re searching your face, scanning your behavior. You can tell he’s trying to figure out what you could possibly be thinking.

“Stop doing that,” you warn him, but your tone is light-hearted, “That whole studying my behavior thing you do.”

“Profiling,” he corrects you and runs a hand over your hair. The action is like a natural reflex for him, he’s not even consciously aware he’s pulling you closer to him.

“Right. That. Stop profiling me,” you laugh.

“Well, how am I supposed to know what’s spinning around in your head when you zone out like that.”

“I’m thinking about the fact that you listen to me rattle on and on about statistical physics but you don’t talk about your job.”

“You need to stop talking about physics after sex. It makes me feel like I’m sleeping with Reid,” he laughs and notices your confusion, “He’s a coworker of mine. You’d like him.”

You’d like him. That phrase sticks with you. Does that mean he wants you to meet his coworkers someday?

You’re not sure why you and Aaron never discuss a real relationship. Well, it’s more like Aaron never discusses a real relationship. Aaron doesn’t really discuss anything. The first time you really talked to him you thought his closed-off nature was charming, dreamy…

“Aaron Hotchner… right?” You look over the man who has just walked up to the bar next to you.

He reaches for the beers he’s just ordered, obviously for a group, but stops as you call out his name, “I’m sorry do I know you?”

“You work for the FBI… Behavioral something unit.” Your laugh sounds loud and obnoxious to you, but to him, it’s bright and cuts through the din of the chaotic bar.

“Behavioral Analysis Unit,” Aaron’s eyebrows furrow. He looks you over before turning his attention back to your face, searching it for answers.

“Oh god!” You're not really the type to strike up a conversation with a man in a bar but you’re feeling bold, not to mention empowered by the liquor, “I must seem so crazy. You gave a talk at Georgetown I attended. I’m a Ph.D. student there. It was about criminal psychology.” His face softens as he begins to realize you’re not a crazy stalker nor an obsessed fan. You stick your hand out for him to shake, “Y/N Y/L/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you, again, I guess,” He nods as he shakes your hand. You can tell he’s just trying to be polite and he glances over his shoulder at a group of people at a booth. Their eyes are all on you two. He wants to go back but something about you is drawing him in. “So you’re pursuing a Ph.D. in psychology?” He moves to sit at the bar next to you.

“Actually no.” You feel flush rushing into your face as he moves closer to you and sits down. You can’t help but look over his body. He’s much closer to your height now that he’s sitting down. He’s wearing a black quarter zip and dark jeans. His hair is neatly gelled back. He does not fit into this atmosphere. “I’m getting a Ph.D. in physics. I conduct theoretical research on the experimental implementation of quantum computing with trapped ions in— I conduct research.” Your blush deepens.

Aaron smiles widely at your ranting before jumping in, “So what were you doing in a criminal psychology lecture?”

Your face feels hot with embarrassment, “I snuck in. It sounded interesting.” You shrug slightly and reach for the drink from the bartender. “I almost didn’t show up, but then a classmate told me one of the FBI agents was very attractive.” You give a small wink before reaching for your check for your drinks from the night. “And she was right, Agent Prentiss is drop-dead gorgeous.” Your attempts to keep a poker face fail, your lips curling with delight.

Aaron laughs as he takes the check from your hands. “You don’t have to—” You protest slightly but Aaron holds up his hand to silence you.

“My treat. As a thank you, for breaking the rules to see my lecture.” He shares in your smile as he hands the bartender his card, paying for your drinks. Your ex just broke up with you a few weeks prior so you came out to cheer yourself up. Seeing Aaron Hotchner up close and personal is… definitely a pick me up.

“Do you have a business card or something?”

“Uh… yes.” Aaron is hesitant to hand it over but reaches into his wallet for one. You grab a pen and take the business card from Aaron. You scribble down your number on the back and hand it to him.

“This is my number.” You hold it out before reaching for your purse. He looks down at the number and then back up at you. For a grown, adult man, he doesn’t seem to understand. You can see confusion written all over his face, it’s quite adorable honestly. His face though it seemingly remains emotionless, in just the few minutes you’ve spent talking to him, you see hints of smiles hidden under a professional, powerful exterior.

“Call me sometime. You know, so I can pay you back for that drink.” You stand up from the bar, legs weak from the heavy drinking you’ve done, “Or if you just want some company.” He nods slightly in response and you turn to leave. You can’t help but turn for a second to watch as Aaron walks back to his table of what appear to be friends. One of the women looks back at you and smiles the most infectious, sweetest smile at you. You return it and move to leave the bar.

It wasn’t until late that night that you got a call. The drinking your sorrows away didn’t stop once you left that bar. You were curled up on your couch, a glass of wine clutched in your hands.

“Hello?” you mumble into the phone, pulling the blanket around your shoulders tighter.

“We didn’t really get to talk much at the bar, but I’m pretty sure you made some promises about paying me back for that drink,” A stern man’s voice cuts through the phone.

“Aaron?” you ask momentarily confused, “It—It’s late, are you drunk?”

Your laugh rings through the phone and it’s that laugh that has Aaron so intensely drawn to you. He can’t help himself. He needs to be near you, “Just go to the door.”

You stand up, “My door? How did you get my—oh right. FBI agent,” you muse and open your door. And there he is, standing at the door with the phone pressed to his ear. He pulls it away and hangs up. “This is incredibly creepy, I hope you know that.” You lean against the doorframe, pulling your large sweater around yourself tighter. His eyes run over you. You grin slightly, catching his wandering gaze, and at that, he shoves his hands in his pockets.

“So about that drink you owe me.” Aaron takes a few hesitant steps into your apartment. He closes the door behind him, “How about you pay me back wit—” he starts to talk but you don’t let him finish his sentence. You grip his shirt and pull him close, your lips melting against his.

It’s messy and passionate and needy. You struggle to stumble along, guiding him towards your bedroom and his hands are touching every inch of you. He hurriedly pulls your sweater off and tosses it off to the side before unzipping your dress. You let it fall to the floor and kick it off as you match his frantic pace, pulling off his shirt and pushing down his jeans. He lays you down gently and reaches around to unclasp your bra.

“Holy fuck,” Aaron groans as he takes a second to take in your naked body.

Then he’s leaving a trail of soft kisses down the expanse of your chest and breasts. He travels down further. His lips brush against your inner thighs, his stubble tickling your skin. He smirks up at you wickedly as he grips your thong in his teeth, pulling it down your legs. You already know your soaking wet pussy will give away just how bad you want him right now.

He doesn’t hesitate, he goes to work on you. Licking and stroking and rubbing your clit. Your back arches and you grip the sheets and his hair. You massage your breasts, panting heavily as two of his fingers press into you, his tongue flicking your overly sensitive bud of nerves. “Oh god, Aaron yes!”

His name rolls off your tongue and you continue to chant it like a fucking mantra as his somehow rough yet gentle touch drives you wild. You feel the knots building in your stomach. Your legs tremble with pleasure as your eyes shut harshly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You’re panting intensely at this point and the whole room practically slips away as your orgasm hits and your body feels out of control. Every nerve ending on fire. And Aaron is merciless, he continues to lick and tease as you ride out your high.

He can’t help but grin proudly at the number he’s done on you. As he comes up to plant a few more kisses on your lips, you feel his rock hard erection pressing against your thigh. You kiss him hungrily while fumbling to stroke him through his boxers.

The groan the emerges from his lips is… holy fucking shit it’s sexy. You flip the two of you over so you’re on top of him, your chest pressed against his. You dip your hand into his boxers, pumping the entirety of his length. You feel him getting harder and his cock twitches in conjunction with a loud, throaty groan. “Y/N." His eyes flutter open and he grabs your arm to still your motions. “I need you, now.”

Within seconds he’s peeling his boxers off, you roll the condom down onto him and you slam your hips down on his. You can’t contain the loud gasps and moans as you feel your walls stretch around him. Fuck it’s been too long since you’ve had sex. You’re still for a second and Aaron bucks his hips, needing friction, needing to thrust and feel your tightness around him.

“Oh god." Your eyes are practically rolling back in your head as Aaron takes an agonizing pace, lifting your hips all the way up just to slam them all the way back down again.

He has a vice grip on your hips and you can feel the bruises forming under his fingertips. You grind your hips against his as you ride him faster. “Fuck you feel amazing,” Hotch lets out another one of those agonizingly sexy groans.

“I’m close,” you whine out. Aaron reaches to rub your clit with his thumb as he starts thrusting his hips up to meet yours chaotically. That combined with his large cock hitting your sweet spot sends you tumbling over the edge once again. It’s not long after that you feel his cock throbbing deep inside you, his hips messily thrusting and his face contorted up in pleasure. His panting becomes rapid and it's not long before he’s coming undone inside you. You flip off of him to collapse at his side on the bed.

“So when are we doing this again?” you pant heavily and hear a beautiful sound beside you. The sound of Aaron laughing.

Sometimes you worry if he’s embarrassed by you. I mean, you’re a few years shy of 20 years younger than him. You’re still in school. He was starting college by the time you were out of diapers. He runs a whole goddamn unit of the FBI and you’re still a student. You both are in entirely separate places in life, how do you reconcile that? It’s not as if he keeps you secret. Jessica knows you and you met his son Jack one time. Besides, you’re not really showing him off either. Not that you have many people to show him off to.

Like said, it’s been weeks since you’ve seen him which has just left you to sit around and overthink just about everything.

Aaron is working a case in DC. You saw the news reports the other day. Women were turning up dead in alleyways behind popular nightclubs and bars in the downtown area. Despite this horrifying news, you were happy when he told you the case was at home. It meant less travel. Less travel means Aaron is less tired. Which means more sex for you. And god, did you need sex.

It’s your friend’s 27th birthday and in an attempt to keep her from crying about getting a year older, you and a group of friends promised to go out drinking with her. You reach for your phone to check for any messages from Aaron. You would drop all your plans if he told you he was coming over tonight. There is one new message but it’s not exactly the text you were hoping for.

From: Aaron:

Please be safe for the next few days. Don’t go anywhere alone. Call me if there’s any trouble or if you need anything at all.”

You furrow your brows. It’s not news that Aaron cares about you and wants to look out for you but usually while on a case it’s radio silence from him. Yes, if you were really in danger he would want you to call immediately, but usually, he tells you he needs to focus on the job and nothing else. You dismiss the text, chalking it up to the presence of a serial killer in the city you both live in. Hell, you were pretty freaked out too. You had seen the girls on the news, 20-30, with your hair color and around your height.

You let out a long sigh, knowing you are most definitely not getting laid tonight. It’s time to get stupid drunk with your friends and enjoy your night anyway.

It does not take long for you and all your friends to reach the perfect level of sloppy drunk. Seeing as you all haven’t been out in months, what with some of you pursuing real jobs, grad school, med school, and whatnot, there hasn’t been a lot of time for screwing around as you did in college.

“So come on! You cannot still be single,” your close friend Sarah screams in your face over the music.

“It’s complicated,” you feel your words starting to string together. They’re not quite slurred but it’s getting there, “He just comes over, fucks my brains out, we spend some time together, and then it’s over.”

Your comments provoke a loud response of laughs and cheers from your friends, “So we don’t even get a name? Or a job? Or where you met him?”

“He guest lectured a course on abnormal and criminal psychology a few months ago,” You start to explain but Sarah is cutting you off before the words have left your mouth.

“Months? This has been going on for months?” You roll your eyes. The bartender places another full tray of shots in front of you guys. She nods towards a man at the edge of the bar. As you look up, he gives you a small wave and smiles. Creepy.

“No, I ran into him a few weeks after and I just gave him my number.” You down the shot, souring your face up before reaching for a lime wedge to chase it, “And then things just happened.”

“Name? Job? Age?” Another friend rattles off at you.

“Isn’t this Sarah’s birthday? Shouldn’t we be talking about her?” You try and steer the conversation away from yourself. You turn back to the bar and see that same man who sent you the shots staring at you. Even when you turn away you can feel his eyes boring into the back of your head.

“Well I want to know, so this is a birthday present,” she continues to pry and it drives you crazy. You're just not ready to share what you and Aaron have with the world.

“His name is Aaron and he works in the FBI and he’s 45,” You mumble that last part into your glass as you take a long sip.

“He’s how old?” Your friend’s jaw drops and another friend grins widely. Your face is burning hot at embarrassment and all the attention.

“Can we all just shut up and drink?” you command forcefully before downing your own.

Hotch looks down at his phone, waiting for any sign that Y/N has seen his text. He doesn’t panic though. She has a life, she’s busy. She probably has plans for the evening. Maybe she’s out… with someone. Aaron shakes his head slightly before forcing his attention to the case. But his mind wanders. Would she go out with someone? It’s not like anything between them is defined. I mean, he would never go out with anyone else. He just wants her. If she wants to go out on a date she can do whatever she wants. Yet, Hotch can’t help but feel the jealousy coursing through his body. The idea of someone else touching her… yeah, that makes him angry.

His more rational thinking takes over. Maybe she’s busy with school work. He knows how hard she’s been working on her research. He fails to hide a smile as he thinks about the way her face lights up when talking about her research. The passion she has for her work is extremely adorable...

You hear three short raps at the door, “It’s open!” you call out as you rush to get all your thoughts down on your computer. You hear the door open and the footsteps approaching.

“You leave your door unlocked? Do you realize how incredibly unsafe and unwise that is?” You can hear that Aaron probably has his stern face on, judging by the disapproval in his voice.

“I knew you were coming,” You shrug and gnaw at your bottom lip furiously as you work, “I just need one moment. I was thinking that in a controlled quantum environment...” As you start to ramble Aaron’s hands snake around your waist. He pushes your hair to the side, placing feather-light kisses along your neck.

“Mm,” He mumbles against you.

“Wait, wait,” you moan, “If you keep doing that I’m going to lose my train of thought and I will never forgive you unless you can formulate how to create thermal distrib—” He nips at your skin and gives your hips a squeeze. Your groans grow louder.

“The physics can wait,” Aaron growls against your skin, turning you around so he can passionately kiss you, “I need you now.”

The panic doesn’t ease because Aaron reaches to call you once again. You don’t pick up because well… you’re a little preoccupied drowning your liver. He thinks, if you had just given a small ok text, he would know you’re safe. But he’s panicking. He continues to panic for the next hour until something unexpected soothes that anxiety. The sound of your screaming drunken voice radiating throughout the entirety of the precinct the team is working in. But as soon as the wave of anxiety dissipates, he feels his stomach drop.

“I’m a victim here!” you screech and cement your legs in place so that the officers holding your arms are practically dragging you.

“Ma’am please!” You kick your legs violently as the officers try to seat you in a chair. They undo your handcuffs and redo them so that your hand is cuffed to the desk. “We’re understaffed and backed up so you sit here and shut up while we get you booked.”

“He was feeling me up! Under the skirt over the panties. He grabbed my ass, I’m sure I have a mark you wanna see it? He assaulted me!” you continue to screech and reach for the hem of your dress, ready to flash every cop in the precinct your ass.

“So you smashed a bottle over his head? Real ladylike,” one of the officers steps forward and holds your hand tight to keep you from lifting the dress.

“Don’t I get a phone call.” Now your words are slurred together. That last round of shots before you got arrested is hitting you hard.

“Once we book you.”

“I know a federal agent. From the FBI,” you spell out the letters obnoxiously, “Do you even know what that is?”

“Yes, I’m sure the federal government will come running to post your bail. Stay here. Don’t move,” the officer commands and you hold up your handcuffed wrist to demonstrate that you’re quite frankly incapable of going anywhere.

“Oh my god,” Prentiss lets out a small laugh from the conference room. “I can hear her through the closed doors.”

“Well, most of this room is glass and sound travels through the glass just about the same as it does air. A better insulating material would be a foam or fiberglass or even a mineral wood composite,” Reid clarifies before giving that signature tight-lipped smile.

“She is… really something,” Morgan laughs and nudges Hotch, “Hotch look.”

Hotch turns and sees what he’s dreading. He sees you, drunk out of your mind. Your skimpy dress is somehow simultaneously riding low on top and riding up on the bottom. You have a small cut lip and a little bit of blood on your dress. His brows furrow deeply. “Oh god,” he mutters under his breath.

“These cops are supposed to stay in the bars and clubs for protection. Why are they wasting time on drunk girls?” Rossi finally chimes in.

The cops finally get you settled into a chair and you kick your feet like a child. “Call the FBI! I know them.”

“Oh does she now. You guys know her?” JJ rolls her eyes and laughs, “I am so glad I never got arrested when I was in college. My parents would’ve killed me.”

“College? Girls do not look like that in college,” Morgan smirks.

“We have to focus on the case,” Hotch's jaw tightens as he sees Morgan look over your body. It’s not something new for Morgan but when he’s making those eyes at you specifically, Hotch feels that surge of jealousy again.

“Call them! Call Agent Aaron Hotchner.” You lean back and try to cross your arms, but your right hand is yanked back by the cuffs.

The team all turns to Hotch with wide eyes. “You know her?” Rossi smirks.

“Where exactly do you know her from?” Emily fights the grin growing on her lips as she looks over her stone-faced boss.

“I’m sorry what?” The cop glances down at you.

“Aaron Hotchner with the Behavioral Unit Analysis Science thing or something like that he’s in the FBI he’s unit chief. I know him.” You roll your eyes at the cop who is speechless, “Oh god. Are you that thick? A-A-R-O-N H-O-T-C-H…” you trail off the alcohol inhibiting your spelling capabilities, “N-E-R. Aaron Hotchner! Call him and he’ll tell you to let me go.”.

The cop glances at some of his coworkers before looking at the conference room. You follow his gaze and see Aaron with a large group of other well-dressed agents. “Oh fuck,” you mutter. Aaron opens the glass doors and steps out of them walking towards you.

“So how does he know this girl?” Prentiss tries her best to hide her spying on you and Aaron.

“I got money on babysitter,” Morgan nods.

“No way, she’d be with Jack right now. I’d say she met him at work." JJ leans against the desk, watching Hotch as he looks down at you, crossing his arms.

“Then we’d all have seen her before. Plus she wouldn’t be telling them she knows the FBI. She would technically be part of the FBI. Why not use that?” Rossi rubs a hand over his goatee.

“He’s sleeping with her,” Reid states simply before turning back to his geographical profile on the board.

“What?” Multiple members of the team turn in shock, not only at the statement but at the fact that Reid is the one making it.

“No way. She’s… at most 27 years old.” Morgan shakes his head, “She is not Hotch’s type.”

“Are you jealous that Hotch has more game than you?” Reid teases without turning away from his work.

“When was your last date, pretty boy? Huh?” Morgan hits him on the back of the head playfully.

“Officer.” Aaron steps in between you and the officer. Good thing, because two more minutes with that guy and you would be charged with a lot more than resisting arrest and public disturbance.

“Aaron!” you squeak, “I didn’t know you were here!”

“Well, she’s definitely not a coworker. She called him Aaron.” Rossi nods at the rest of the team still in the conference room. For a team of profilers, their attempts to hide the spying are weak at best.

“I’ll take care of her.” He doesn’t bother looking at you, but he gives the officer his best unit-chief glare.

“Sir we have a process to go through here. We’re still processing her arrest,” the officer attempts to argue with Hotch but you can see the discomfort clearly in the officer. He struggles to meet Hotch’s eyes.

“Please officer, we have much more to deal with here. I want to find this guy before another body drops. We need you out there patrolling the bars for the guys, not the drunk girls the creeps hit on.” Aaron takes on a stern voice.

“Yes agent.” The cop is visibly annoyed but isn’t willing to get into a fight with a federal agent all over your stupid drunk ass.

“Are you injured? You’re bleeding.” He grabs your chin in his calloused fingers, turning your face from side to side to assess the small cuts. You almost moan into his touch but remember the current location.

“No, no it’s someone else’s.” You turn out of his grip, trying to push his hands off.

“Someone else’s? What did you do?” Fuck. Aaron is furious with you. His arms are crossed against his chest and you can see the veins in his neck standing out. The tone he takes with you is harsh and you’re not used to him speaking with you like that… at least not used to it outside the bedroom.

“It’s not my fault okay!”

Aaron holds the bridge of his nose frustratedly, “Y/N. I have a serial killer to profile, catch, and stop from murdering innocent women. Can I just get the truth?”

“This creepy guy kept sending me and my friends drinks all night so when I went to the bar to get us another round he came over. Things got messy.” You shrug your shoulders. “Can you take off these cuffs now?” You hold out your wrists, pouting out your bottom lip. You can physically see him soften at that.

As Aaron reaches for the key and undoes the cuffs, he shakes his head at the stench of alcohol seeping out of you, “You’re gonna have to do better than things got messy.”

“I just…” You pause, knowing the details of the story are going to make him upset but he wants the truth, “I knew he was a little off. Weird and creepy and pushy, you know?” You rub your irritated wrists, “So he starts talking to me, offering me some drink. I know better than to accept a drink from a stranger so I turned him down. That's when he grabbed my arm and well… tried to cop a feel.”

“Cop a feel?” Aaron’s jaw has tightened and his hands are clenched so tightly at his sides his knuckles are pale.

“He slid his hands under my dress.” Your hand ghosts over the sore spot on your bottom where the man dug his fingers into your flesh, “He grabbed my legs and then my ass and then… and then he tried to get his hands in my underwear.” You show Aaron the red marks on your inner thigh. You’re not sure what you expect from him, but his face remains hardened. The only emotion readable on him is anger.

“The blood is from self-defense,” Aaron begins to understand.

You nod, confirming his statement, “I grabbed the first thing I could and smashed him on the head. I think I sliced his eyebrow. By the time the cops came, he was gone and I was in cuffs.”

Aaron looks back at his team in the conference room. In a poor attempt to hide their spying, they all rapidly turn their eyes to their work. He takes a few steps closer to you, his eyes looking over the red bruising on your cheek. He fights every urge to reach out and touch you, stroke your face softly and kiss your lips, “Did he hurt you? We should get a medic to check you out or–”

He doesn’t have a second to finish that thought. “Hotch, another body just dropped,” Morgan and Prentiss come rushing out of the conference room, “We’re going to the crime scene now.”

Aaron nods at his team members, “Call me if anything stands out.” The team nods and Aaron reaches for your arm, walking you towards the rest of the team, “I don’t want you alone right now. You’re going to sit here and keep quiet, understand?”

You bite your lip and look around at the team, still pretending as if they’re not listening in, “Jeez way to embarrass me, Aaron,” you mumble under your breath as you drop down into a chair with a loud sigh like a child.

JJ can’t help but come over to talk to you, “I’m Jennifer." You give her your name, "It's so nice to meet you Y/N, how do you and Hotch know each other?”

“Hotch?” you let out before quickly realizing the nickname for Aaron. You shake her hand, “Oh Agent Hotchner and I are just fuc–“

“Friends,” Aaron cuts in, “Y/N and I are friends. We have a case to get back to,” Aaron frantically changes the topic of conversation but your little comment doesn’t go unnoticed by the team members. Even Reid is smiling slightly at your comment.

You sit back in your chair and take in the sight of Agent Hotchner, Unit Chief of the BAU. The confident and commanding energy he exudes is immensely attractive. It’s not long before the agents that left for the crime scene, Morgan and Prentiss return with news for Aaron.

“Sir we found something weird at the crime scene,” Morgan steps back into the room.

“Weird?” Hotch cocks his head slightly to the side.

“There were droplets of blood over the victim’s dress but it wasn’t her own,” Morgan shakes his head.

“But you called and said she had no defensive wounds, he drugged her like the others. How could he have been injured?” Hotch turns back to the other case files.

“We’re not sure,” Emily shakes her head, “It’s possible it’s unrelated but maybe he might have been hospitalized for something recently?”

“What about any witnesses?” Hotch nods, “Any people at Churchkey bar see anything unusual? A man that was a little too forceful with women?”

You snort slightly at that, “I wouldn’t say that’s unusual for a bar.”

Hotch shoots you a hard glare that shuts you up for good, while Prentiss lets a smile shine through.

“The bar was mostly cleared out. Apparently the bar was packed earlier tonight but it cleared out after a bar fight broke out.” Morgan informs the team.

You bite your lip harshly. Aaron told you no talking but… this is more important, right? “Wait, Churchkey bar?” You finally speak up and all the agents turn their attention to you.

“What about it?”

“That’s the bar I was at tonight.” You trail off at the end of your sentence.

“You remember someone or something off?” Rossi looks over your body language.

“I think I talked to the unsub. I think... I’m the one who injured him." You unconsciously wrap your arms tightly around your body.

“You think you could walk me through the night? Tell me about him, it could really help us,” Morgan moves to sit on the edge of the desk to face you. "We could do a cognitive interview." He nods at Hotch.

"A cognitive?" You look between the two men.

"It's a memory recall exercise. We would walk you through the night and you tell us as much as you can," Morgan explains gently.

"And it could help you find him?" You ask, unsure how much you remember about him.

"You might not realize the type of details that help us form the profile." Morgan places a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

Aaron clears his throat. “She’s not sober enough for a cognitive." You can tell that the fact that his personal life is bleeding into his work is driving him crazy.

“If I can help catch this creep, I want to help. I’m fine.” You touch your finger to your nose a few times in an attempt to demonstrate your sobriety.

“Then you should drink some coffee before we start,” Aaron dismissively addresses you before turning to leave, “And I’m going to want the whole truth.” He stalks off towards the interrogation room.

Rossi runs to catch up with Aaron, pulling him off to the side. “Aaron, you cannot conduct this cognitive.”

“Excuse me?” Aaron snaps, crossing his arms against his chest.

“Take a step back, pretend she’s not someone you clearly care about,” Aaron rolls his eyes at Rossi’s comment but plays along as he continues.

“She’s a young girl… just how young is she?” Rossi raises a brow at Aaron, losing his train of thought.

“Dave.” He lets out an exasperated sigh.

Rossi holds his hands up in defense, “Fine, okay. She’s a young girl, she’s a little drunk, and she’s been sexually harassed in a bar by our unsub. Who do you send in to talk to her?”

“The least intimidating figures to her,” Aaron nods.

“So definitely not the angry boyfriend who wants to kill anyone who touches her,” Rossi clarifies.

“I’ll send in JJ and Prentiss,” Hotch sighs and turns before pausing, “And I’m not her boyfriend.”

Rossi simply smiles and pats Aaron’s back, “Ok boss.”

You sit up in your chair tiredly as Emily and JJ walk into the interrogation room.

“Hi Y/N, I’m Agent Prentiss and you’ve already met Agent Jareau,” Emily sits across from you.

“He can hear us, right?” You bite your lip and look towards the glass.

“Who can hear us?” JJ takes a seat and places a file in front of you.

“Aaron.” You search the glass, knowing that you won’t be able to see him but that he definitely can see you.

“Oh uh-” Emily pauses, unsure what to say in response.

“Do you want more privacy? I can ask the agents to leave.” JJ starts to stand.

“Hearing this would help them figure who the killer is?” You’re gnawing your lip hard enough to draw blood, a nervous habit Aaron never hesitates to point out to you.

“Yes,” JJ sits back down.

“Then it’s fine.” You look over one last time, “Just make sure Aar— Agent Hotchner,” you correct yourself, “Make sure Agent Hotchner doesn’t lose his shit.”

“No promises,” Prentiss smirks and lets out a small breath, “We’re going to walk you through the night. If it gets to be too much you let us know and we’ll take a break, okay?”

Well, now you’re really nervous. You let out a small breath, “Okay.” You close your eyes as Agent Prentiss starts.

“You’re in the bar. It’s crowded…”

“Y/N I think he really likes you,” your friend Sarah laughs. “Come on go talk to him.”

“No, I really shouldn’t.” You feel dizzy and light on your feet from the alcohol the man has been plying you and your friends with.

“Why?” Another friend chimes in, “Big strong Agent Hotchner going to punish you for talking to another guy?” Your friends taunt you playfully.

You smile widely at them, “Yes, yes he will.”

“You naughty, naughty girl!” Sarah laughs. You feel eyes on you and look back to the man at the bar. He’s hunched over in his stool. He looks nervous, but he smiles sheepishly at you and waves. It’s not long before he’s calling the bartender over again and pointing at you animatedly.

“Next round is on me,” you say softly to your friends, keeping your eyes on the man’s face, memorizing every detail you can. His face is young but worn and tired. The wrinkles on his forehead tell you he frowns a lot. They’re lines that appear on Aaron’s face too. You think about how you tease Aaron about smiling more. God, you miss Aaron right now. You wish he was here to make you feel safe. As you walk up to the bar, your presence causes the man to stand up and move closer.

“I was going to order you and your friends more drinks. I ordered you a vodka soda. It’s what you’ve been drinking all night, right?” He stutters slightly as he talks to you. He slides a glass over to you, but you know better. Strange man... drink that you didn’t see the bartender actually make... no way.

“I was actually going to order a beer,” you try to reject the glass, “You take the vodka soda though. You’ll see why they’ve been my go-to all night. He’s been making them very strong.” You look at the bartender, ordering a beer. You pray that the young bartender senses your discomfort.

“Come on it’s a harmless drink.” The strange man moves into you, pushing the glass closer. “You have the drink, we’ll get to know each other better… you’ll like it. I can make you like it.”

Thinking about his words sends chills down your spine. You have to take a moment to let out a shaky breath.

“Are you sure you want to continue listening to this?” Rossi eyes Hotch. Hotch’s face is contorted so harshly into a mixture of anger, disgust, and sadness. His neck muscles tense, his arms are tightly crossed against his body. He doesn’t even acknowledge Rossi.

“Can you keep going?” JJ eyes your face. You nod.

“No thank you, and no more drinks for my friends and I. We can get our own drinks.” You turn to grab your beer but soon the man stops you. He grabs your wrist tightly, placing his other hand behind your back. He pulls you flush against him. His rough, calloused fingertips grab and scratch up your thighs, under the dress. He grabs your ass so hard you want to scream out. He continues to trail his fingers up, hooking around your panties and—

A sickening shattering noise and cracking erupt as you swing the beer bottle at his head. The man screams. “You bitch!” He slaps your face. You stumble back, falling on the floor, cutting your hands on the broken glass from the bottle. Your skin is sticky with alcohol and you glance down at the blood on your dress. The bar grows louder. The commotion intensifies. You feel a friend’s hands wrap around your arms pulling you up off the ground.

“Wait he—!” You look around for the man but he’s nowhere to be found.

“Not long after that I was being shoved into a cop car and escorted here.” You finally open your eyes and look at the two agents.

“I can make you like it?” Emily asks you to clarify. She speaks slowly clearly enunciating her words but you can hear the disgusted tone in her voice.

“That’s exactly what he said.” You wrap your arms around yourself, “Does that all help?”

“Yes, yes it does,” JJ reaches out to touch your hand gently. Your eyes flick back to the one-way glass. You can’t see Aaron but you can tell he’s probably fuming. He probably has that signature scowl on his face.

“Am I—” You clear your throat and try to adjust your dress for more modesty, “Can I go?” Prentiss gives you a sad, pity-filled smile and nods. You stand up quickly and exit the room in a rush, colliding with Aaron’s strong chest as you do. You look up into his eyes and you see something in his face you’ve never seen in all the times you've been with him: sadness. You bury your face into his chest and his arms wrap tightly around you. “I was scared,” You choke out as his large, warm hands rub circles into your back, “I needed you.” You ball up his shirt in your fists. You’re not one to cry easily, but your body shakes as you breathe heavily.

“I know,” his voice cracks as he rests his chin on top of your head. He runs one hand over your hair softly, shushing you gently, “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

You pull away from his chest and frantically pull his lips down to yours. A strong hand goes to your back, holding you close to him. You hear the interrogation room door open behind you, the two agents stepping out, but neither you nor Aaron break the kiss. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you,” Aaron breathes against your lips, pulling you back into a tight hug. “You’re safe here with me now.”

———

You lift the heavy metal knocker and let it slam down twice, waiting for the door to open. When it does, Rossi envelops you in his arms, a wide smile spreading across his lips. He grabs your face tightly, kissing each cheek joyfully. “Bellissimo! I’m so glad you could make it.” Rossi places a gentle hand on your back and leads you inside.

You walk into the crowded kitchen and the members of the BAU all turn and smile back at you. Aaron moves towards you and quickly gives you a soft kiss on your lips. “I’m so happy you’re here." 

“I’m so glad you’re finally home.” You pull away from Aaron to make the rounds hugging the people who are like family to you at this point.

Morgan wraps a friendly arm around your shoulder and can’t help but tease Aaron, “Hotch, you couldn’t be bothered to pick up your girl?” He turns to smile at you while Aaron shakes his head.

“I had to stop by the research lab so I just had my classmate Tyler drop me off after we finished up." You shrug.

“Tyler, huh?” Rossi grins, hoping to rile up Aaron a little.

“Is he cute?” JJ chimes in with a laugh.

Aaron quickly clears his throat, hoping to change topics. He raises his brows at you, “So do you want to share the news or should I do it for you?”

“Oh my god, you’re totally preggers!” Garcia squeals and runs to hug you again. You glance at Aaron and can only laugh.

“No, no.” You smile as she pulls away and you look at the shocked faces of everyone in the kitchen, even Aaron looks a little rattled. You playfully nudge his arm, “See what you did? Always causing trouble.”

“Me? If I recall correctly you’re the one who got arrested for being drunk off your ass and trying to fight a serial killer.” His comment elicits a series of small laughs from everyone.

"Yeah and it helped you catch him, so really you all should thank me for being drunk." You playfully argue with Aaron. "Anyway, the actual news. No, I'm not pregnant." You point at Penelope as she opens her mouth to say something else. 

“You’re looking at the proud new owner of a Ph.D. in physics!” You do a small cheesy spin as the rest of the team congratulates you, “Handed in my final thesis paper today.” Aaron smiles proudly as you move back to his side.

“Yeah that’s great and all but you’re still two Ph.D.s behind me.” Spencer can’t help but tease you. In the past year, he’s become one of your closest friends, especially since Aaron can’t even seem to begin to understand your thesis research.

“All right cool it kid.” You joke with him.

“Kid? I’m older than you.” Spencer laughs. Aaron comes closer to wrap his arm around your waist. The gesture is comforting and just this touch sends waves of pleasure through your body.

“Reid might have two more Ph.D.s than you but he’s got nothing on your good looks.” Prentiss winks at you.

“She’s got that right,” Aaron smirks as he kisses your cheek gently.

“Ok, ok, enough small talk.” You feel your face flush, “I came here to learn some cooking from chef Rossi, not talk about how hot I am.” You see Aaron roll his eyes with a smile and you pull him close as Rossi starts the demonstration.

“I love you so much, you know that?” Aaron has his arms wrapped around you from behind. He speaks softly so only you can hear.

“I know,” You smile, happiness flooding through your body, “I love you too.”

[cherri-cherri]

Pairings - Yuuji Itadori x Reader x Ryomen Sukuna

Synopsis - Ever since Yuuji moved away to Tokyo, you've been noticing some odd changes from him, it's almost as if...he was becoming another person all together.

Theme - Monster by Imagine Dragons

A/N - An idea hit me in the head while I was working and I wanted to try this out so badly with both Yuuji and Sukuna! A concept of 'What if the vessel wasn't just the vessel?'. The vessel would eventually merged with the being to become something new altogether, and I thought...yes. why the heck not. This is gonna be a long one, So let's hop right it! Because I really like this idea, theres a good chance this is going to be either split up into parts or I'm gonna keep visiting this every now and then.

Warning - The characters in this story will be aged up due to NSFW content here. Dirty NSFW scenes sprinkled in, Gore Warning, Abuse, Etc.

-------------------

He didnt want this...

All he wanted was to keep those he cared about safe. Lying to you at the time seemed like a good idea, especially since you weren't tied into the mystical world he was now tied to, and he didn't want you too. But now, perhaps he should've told you everything.

About the finger, about the school, and...

About Sukuna.

You couldn't exactly remember why you originally said yes to the pink haired boy when he asked you to join his occult club activities that night. Maybe it was because of the fact you have nothing really better to do, or maybe because traveling through a forest of possible gruesome death seemed the most attractive thing to you at the time, yet you an Yuuji grew close together that night. Truth be told, walking through those woods during the dead of night was actually creepier than you thought but he was there by your side to comfort you the entire time, holding your hand while cracking a few jokes every now and then to calm your nerves.

"You're not scared? You seem so..well calm?" You asked, looking up at Yuuji with furrowed brows as he just smiled down at you. "Nah, not really. It's just darker and a few trees are around. Not really anything scary, right?" He said, rubbing the back of his neck while chuckling.

Maybe it was because of the warmth of his hands wrapped around your own or how comforting the presence he gave off was to you but it was probably then that your feelings for Yuuji began to grow.

"What you're going to Tokyo?" You questioned, watching Yuuji prepared a few boxes to pack his things. "Yeah, transferring schools. I'm, um .. I'm recieving a sports scholarship at a school there." Placing a few more of things away was when he finally turned to see you, clearly upset over just now being told this. Sure, you should've been happy to see your best friend be able to leave to accomplish more out of his life but it was the thought of him leaving you here that hurt the most. When he saw your face and the conflicted look on it, Yuuji stepped over towards you before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in your embrace.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I just—" before he could finish his sentence, you stood up on your toes and wrapped your arms around his neck and simply smiled to him. "You don't have to say a thing, Yuuji, I'm happy for you. Just promise me that you'll stay safe out there for me, 'kay?"

Your words alone reminded him why he had to leave, why he had to go and leave you here. It was to keep you safe, safe from curses and safe from the curse lying dormant inside of him now. "R-right...Thank you, Y/N"

The school days were quiet once when Yuuji transferred schools. Sadly enough, the occult club had to disband after he left due to them not having enough members with Iguchi still hospitalized. Now it just seemed..boring without him there but he still seemed to have brighten your day with the photos he would send you every day of the bright city lights and bustling streets. His little messages and calls always well timed to reassure you that just because you aren't blocks away from each other anymore doesn't mean you won't still be friends.

So far, you've became pretty happy with Yuuji and how he's able to come so far in Tokyo. He speaks greatly about his sensei and his new classmates known as Fushiguro and Kugasaki, who from the sound of it, are a bit of a handle but great friends who still treat him well. Every week when he had his day off, he would spend time on video call to talk to you and even show you cool things that he either found around the city or around the school's campus.

Tonight however..he was late. Sure, it didn't bother you really if he was punctual or on time since this was Yuuji we were talking about here but there was a tad bit of worry lingering in your head. Soon enough, as soon as that ugly feeling of worry and doubt began to surface, Yuuji's icon appeared on the screen on the laptop as it began to ring to which you quickly opened.

"Yuuji, hey— oh my god, your face." You said right away, gasping a little at the cuts and bruises littered not only on his face but from the looks of it, his arms and shoulders too. Has he been fighting? "What? Oh, oh! These! Yeah, Fushiguro and Gojou-Sensei kinda roughen me up a little today during training but it's no sweat, really! Barely feel a thing," Yuuji tried to give you a reassuring smile while patting his right shoulder only to wince a little in pain from the impact of the pat.

"First the weird scars on your face, now bruises? Dude, I get that this is a sports thing but don't you think it's a little extreme?"

Hearing the worry in your voice, Yuuji rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand nervously as he tried to think of a way to reassure you until a deep voice came from that same hand, chuckling softly.

"What's this? A woman talking to the brat...? How amusing." Sukuna.

Hearing the voice, Yuuji instantly flinched and lowered his arms out of the camera's view. Panic shot through his body as you stared at the screen with a raised brow. "Oh, is someone there with you now? Didn't know you had a roommate."

Oh good, you didn't see him. It wasn't as if he was afraid of you meeting Sukuna, he was afraid of telling you the truth about everything. About how he was now a vessel for ancient being, how he was studying cursed energy and jujutsu, how he died yet came back to life..dumping so much on you with the chance that you might never speak to him again out of fear, out of disgust. That you stop being his friend, and that he would never..he would never—

"Yuuji?" Tapping the screen a little on your laptop as it shook the camera, he soon stared back at you and laughed nervously. "O-oh right, he's only here for a little bit of time, so I figured what's really the point in telling you"

"Really now? Could've swore I was here to stay with you forever. You could at least introduce me to your friend here." Sukuna felt a great amusement watching Yuuji squirm just to keep you in the dark. Yuuji quickly began stammering on his words, throwing you off as he made a quick excuse to leave the call early. Before you could even say a single word, he clicked ended the facetime before sighing to himself and leaning back against his chair.

"...What is the point in keeping me hidden? We are practically one now, me as you and you as me, Brat." Sukuna said, his mouth now appearing on the left side of his cheek with the eyelid opening to stare up at the boy. "Are you scared of me paying your little toy a visit? Young and no doubt a virgin, I could have some fun with her—" Yuuji quickly slapped a hand against the mouth in attempt to hush the curse only for Sukuna to migrate to the hand.

"I won't let that happen, Sukuna." Yuuji said, frowning as he heard the curse chuckle. He didn't like the sound of how he described his bond to the soul sleeping inside of him, how they were one in the same. Shaking his head, the boy tried to reassure himself that he was nothing like Sukuna and simply went to turn off the lights and sleep on it. The last thing he heard before slumber took him were the ominous words of Sukuna,

"You'll see I was right soon enough, brat..."

A week later, Yuuji came back home to visit you. It was one of the days where the school allowed their students a break from their studies and classes and so he wanted to spend it with you as a surprise. And indeed you were surprised. When you had rushed downstairs, you did so wearing only a red sleeved t-shirt that the pink haired male might have left behind with a pair of gray shorts, and so when you opened the door to see the cheery face of your best friend well...it may have left you a bit flustered.

"Hey, Y/—" you quickly shut the door in his face, collapsing on your knees as you felt your cheeks beginning to burn. 'Why of all days, Itadori?!' You thought to yourself as she slowly stood back up and cracked the door open to see Yuuji's baffled face. He looked like a puppy..a sad puppy who was just kicked off his owner's bed and it broke you. Before long, he was now in your house and sitting in the living room couch while you were in the kitchen preparing tea. Your father was currently away on business while god knows what your mother was..it was just the two of you.

And it was awkward.

As you prepared tea on the kettle, Yuuji couldn't help but look at the shirt you were wearing as a small pink blush was lightly spreading on his cheeks. In a way, it filled him with a strange feeling seeing you walking around in something of his, seeing you wearing his shirt made him..prideful. didn't help with how short your shorts were either, it was practically hugging onto your as—

"So, it's just you? Dude, you should've told me you were coming! I would've been more prepared..I barely have any snacks or anything here right now." You grumbled, snapping his attention away to listen to what you were saying. "Hey, no worries, Y/N. Honestly, I'm just hungry for something else..." that last part through him off as he covered his mouth. That wasn't his voice. No, it was but that wasn't him speaking.

As he turned his head to the side to the balcony door, there the boy saw it in his reflection. The eye of Sukuna staring right back at him, causing him to quickly cover the eye.

"Huh? Alright, well what are you hungry for? Theres probably some ramen around here someone or we could just go out to a place to eat if you want.." you questioned, back turned away from him as you began to take the now whistling kettle off the stove. No, he couldn't deal with this now, not while you were only feet away from him. Yet the more he watched you in the reflection, the more he saw your curves in those pretty little shorts or your braless breasts bounce with ease under his stolen shirt...

Shaking his head, Yuuji soon stood up from the couch and placed on his jacket. "I'm sorry, N/N, But I have to go—"

"Wait what but–"

"Sorry, u-um, Gojou-Sensei said something came up and I have to go back! I'm sorry but I'll make it up to you— I promise!" Before you could even protest, he was already out of the door and gone. As he left, you could've swore you saw an eye on his cheek where one of his scars were but that was impossible, right?

-----------------------

He honestly had no idea where he was going to run off to but the boy knew that if Sukuna had a chance to take over and you were in front of him, would've hurt you or worse. Seeing your disappointed face yet again almost shattered his heart completely and when Yuuji finally came to a halt, he found himself beside a small stream and sighed. This was all for the best. It was to keep you safe, or so he kept telling himself.

"Damn, to think you would actually run away when she was begging for you to take her there. What a wimp.." Sukuka said, mouth manifesting on Yuuji's neck as his eye looks up at frowning boy. "Its not often you get an open invitation from a woman. If I was in control, I would've taken her then and there and ram my co‐" Yuuji quickly slapped a hand over the mouth as a faint blush appeared on his cheeks, him now thinking back to you and how pretty you looked wearing his shirt. "S-shut up. Don't go saying such gross crap."

"You know you feel the same. I can see that she affects you even now judging by the sight of your pants. You wanted to stuff her with your seed just as much as I did." Sukuna said, the mouth now on his hand. Much to Yuuji's surprise, his dark brown eyes quickly shot down to his pants and just as Sukuna said, there was a raging boner standing up at attention. Swallowing his guilt, he tried to cover it only for his pinky finger to slowly graze the fabric and giving his cock a small jolt. The boy hissed a little and quickly placed his hands to his side.

"I-i..I just.." "No need to be embarrassed. That girl isn't anything typically special but just seeing her, seeing her ass in such revealing clothing. Women of this era must be extremely dirty~" Sukuna chuckled "and hearing your thoughts, you certainly surprised me, Brat..." the more Sukuna spoke, the more Yuuji thought back to you. Seeing your breasts and ass was truthfully hot, even if you weren't exactly his type, he still found you beautiful. Slowly without him even noticing, his hand slowly motioned for his cock once more and in the silence of the forest, Yuuji Itadori thought only of you during his time in pleasure.

-----------------------

It wasn't until later on into the night that Yuuji had finally texted you back, saying he would back tomorrow to make things up with you. Sure, it did cheer you up that he would be back but the way he was acting lately made you feel like something was wrong. If you ever asked, he would change the subject or just smile at you awkwardly as if admitting to hiding something but you won't force him tell you what was wrong. When He was ready, he would tell you for sure and you'll wait for however long he wanted.

"N/N, Everything alright?" Yuuji asked, gaining your attention as you snapped back to the present and out of your thoughts. Looking around, you found yourself staring ahead at a bag of popcorn and the large bright ights of a ferris wheel constantly in motion. That's right, the local fairgrounds, Yuuji had wanted to go one more time before he returned back to Tokyo and since you always liked the food here, you of course said yes. "O-oh, yeah! I'm fine. Just looking ahead at the wheel. Remember last time we were here some kid ended up puking on Sasaki from a cart above us?"

"Haha! Yeah, she smelled of salty tuna for weeks afterwards and it left a stain on her uniform" He laughed, staring at the wheel as he thought about the memory. As you stared at him and watch his smile, it had then reassured you that this was still your best friend and you smiled back. For a moment, the two of you were having a blast at the small fair, playing some of the games set up by the booths (and being turned away after Yuuji broke a few with his strength..) it felt like old times all over again. "Wanna play another game or play at bumper carts? We still have some time to kill before you gotta go back?" You asked, carrying some of the plushie prizes the two of you (mainly Yuuji) earned, you looked over to your side and saw a cotton candy display before your attention turns back to Yuuji, The two of you decided just for a moment to sit down at a small metal bench to rest your feet for a moment

Seeing the display, an idea popped up in his head and the words of Gojou appeared in his mind. 'You want advice on how to swoon a girl? Well take small hints when she gives them to you, if her eyes are lingering on something then that's probably a sign she wants it—'. Seeing as how you kept looking up at the cotton candy, he thought this might have been his chance and sat down his own plushies. Without saying a word, Yuuji got up and walked over to the stand, leaving you there by the table alone with your horde of plush creatures.

Seeing you seating there at the bench by yourself, a group of punks who looked to be close to your age strolled up to you, two of them taking a seat on each side of you while the third one was standing right behind you. "Fine evening, isn't it, love. What's a sweet little thing like you doing here by yourself, you looking for some fun?" The purple haired male said on your left side, lowering his shades as he stared noticeably at your chest. "Actually, I'm here with a friend and this seat is for him so if you could jus—" "oh a 'friend'? But I don't see this friend now, so maybe you could tag along with us back to our place and we'll show you a fun time." The punk behind you said, his hands now pressed firmly on both of your shoulders as he leaned in a bit closer to you, causing you to flinch at his touch. "I, um.."

"N/N?"

Turning your head back to in front of you, you saw Yuuji there holding a blue and pink cotton candy stick and face emotionles. "N/N, huh? That's a cute name. This your friend, N/N?" The purple haired punk said, chuckling while rising from his seat "....." Yuuji remained silent for a bit as he stared off at the hands touching you, gripping onto your shoulder and clearly making you uncomfortable. He was typically known for being a calm guy but see this angered him beyond words.

'You see what they're doing to your woman, brat? You're just going to let it happen..?' Yuuji heard the inner words of Sukuna in his head, his eyes dart away from you to the guy standing in front of him, smirking as he touch the cotton candy from the pink haired boy's hand and taking a large bite of the webby treat. "This doesnt have to get rough, all you need to do is walk away and we'll show N/N-chan here a good time she'll never forget." He said, licking his tongue over his lips.

As Yuuji's lips parted, he heard a groan coming from you as you squirmed in the other guys hold with the second punk was now leaning into your neck. Seeing your frown of discomfort, they way they were touching what was rightful his , All he needed to hear were those small words from Sukuna.

'They're touching your woman, they're hurting her. Finish.. them.. off.'

Yuuji stood there for a moment, remaining silent as he lowered his hand, a shadow now cast over his face. Opening one of your eyes as you squirm in the punk's hold, you saw something that made your heart almost stop beating altogether. That smile on his face, that malevolent smile and empty eyes as he held onto the purple haired Male's now broken arm.

The next thing was a blur. The screams of your harassers echoed around you and you heard a wet sound looping over and over again as well as hard thuds. Opening your eyes, you saw it. Two of the thugs bloodied and bruised as their limbs were bent in ways you couldn't imagine, one of them dangling up above you on a tree branch while the other one was limp inside of the cotton candy stand. Looking around for the third one, you saw him behind held against one of the food stands while Yuuji was there gripping his hand over the punk's neck. You couldn't exactly show him any mercy and yet Yuuji was clearly taking things too far, even when the guy tried to beg for mercy and claw his way out of your friend's hold, all Yuuji did was stand there with a grin you've never seen before. It wasnt one of his innocent smiles or mischievous grins, no, it was one of pure sadism. "P-please stop, I'm sorry..I'm sorry.." "you didn't stop when she wanted you too, So why should I?" Yuuji tilted his head to the side a little, chuckling a little as his grip tightened and the man gasped out for air "you'll pay for what you did. You'll all fucking pay..."

The air in your chest almost stopped filling your lungs completely as you watch this. That wasn't the Yuuji you knew, he would've never went this far just to prove a point! Slowly taking a step forward and then another and then slowly speeding up, you reached out and held onto the arm Yuuji was holding the punk up with. "Yuuji, stop it! You'll kill him if you keep this up!" You yelled only to feel a blow strike your face and send you tumbling back a few feet, causing you to scream out in pain. "Stay out of this." Was all he said until freezing and slowly turning back to see what he had done.

Crimson was spilling from your nose onto your shirt and it was gushing out by the bucket to which you quickly covered as you stared up at Yuuji with teary eyes. Regret instantly overwhelmed him as he dropped the thug and slowly reached over to you, his senses coming back to him. "N/N?" He questioned, almost checking to see if you were alright but you backed away as he stepped over to you. What has he done..? Why did he..? He watched you slowly back away with each step, fear in your bright (E/C) eyes and it broke him. "Hey, w-what's wrong? I was only trying to protect them from you, you don't have to be scared."

As people began to crowd in, brought in by the noise of fighting and your scream, Yuuji hand ghosted over the skin of yourself shoulder and you flinched. You flinched at his touch..So many feelings began to overwhelm him that he didn't notice the look of horror in your eyes as you watched what thought were scars slowly twitch and open up, revealing bright red eyes staring directly at you.

"They were going to hurt you," 'She's scared of you now after all you've done' "I saved you! They won't touch you like that again!" 'She sees you for what you are, brat.' "I just wanted to keep you safe!" With each yell, Yuuji watched as you grew more and more scared, the people around all of you terrified as they watched and some even grabbing whatever they could that could be a weapon. Gripping his head as he felt an intense pain through his skull, it was then he noticed..how small you looked as he towered over you. When did you get so small? He thought to himself, bending down to grab you when he saw his arm.

His nails were a dark purple shade, sharper and three black markings were on his wrist. Turning his head a little to one of the booth's and staring into the window was when the truth hit Yuuji hard. His body was different and taller now for some reason and Sukuna's markings were slowly appearing over his face. He was..slipping?

"Y-yuuji, what the hell is happening to you.." he heard you whisper yet before he could respond, there was the sharp pain of something blunt hitting his shoulder. Looking to his feet, he saw a medium sized rock and there another and another. The people were launching what they could at him, yelling at him to leave the girl alone and to leave. Yelling for his death, calling him a monster, calling him a curse. He stared at you for a moment, seeing how now tears leaking from your eyes and Yuuji stepped away before fleeing.

"Yuuji, wait!!" He heard your frantic yell from behind him but it didn't slow him down as he kept running further into the distance and leaving you behind. Your yells becoming drowned out by the mad laughter of Sukuna echoing in his mind.

-----------------------

No, he didn't want this at all. The day was meant to go differently, it was meant to be just the two of you having fun together and end with the ferris wheel and him finally telling you that he...

Thunder crackled outside of the decrepit shrine the boy had taken shelter in, rain pouring outside by the gallons. As he watched the raindrops in silence, Yuuji saw how the scenery slowly began to shift around him as the sky became more malevolent and the cold concrete he was sitting on now a pool of crimson water with piles on top of piles of bones surrounded him. The memories of the fairground echoed in his mind over and over again on loop of him hitting you and your look of fear haunting him, causing his eyes to water.

"Aw, are you going to cry, brat..?"

Yuuji remained silent as he waited for Sukuna to appear at any moment, yet he never came, only his voice lingered around him. "This is all of your fault.." Yuuji whispered, staring off into the rain. "My fault? I don't understand. If I recall, you were to one who eat my finger. You were the one who signed up for being my vessel, everything that has been done was all you..I merely watched from here."

"Bullshit! You made me hurt her..you made me like this!" Yuuji screamed out, flashes of who he did to those thugs showing through his mind, "You made me hurt them!"

"...No, that was all you. You can blame me all you want but I felt what you felt, saw what you saw and you loved every second of that fight. Whipping those who displease you in place, kicking the asses of the men who touched what was yours. Gotta say, made me tear up watching everything unfold" Hear the curse's chuckle echo around in the shrine, Yuuji quickly stood up and yelled out for Sukuna to show himself, only for him to collapse on his knees when feeling an sharp pain in his torso.

"No need to show myself, I'm already with you as close as I can."

Gritting his teeth in pain it was then that Yuuji saw his reflection staring back at him in the water, grinning ear to ear with malice in those sharp fangs.

"You see , Brat, becoming my vessel didn't just mean I was trapped inside of you..no no..You would slowly become me. Your small soul means shit compared to mine and it will be swallowed whole by me. I just needed us to be bound for some time and you would be mine..."

As the reflection spoke to him, Yuuji screamed out in pain as he felt his bones inside of him crack and twist as if they were rearranging themselves. His stomach felt as if it was being cut open entirely as the flesh began to slowly pull apart while tearing open the yellow hoodie in the process, the meat of his torso was forced open as a tongue lulled out and licked his abs like they were lips. The sides of his waist felt as if someone was taking a pair of axes and were merely swinging it down as flesh began to bubble through and bones formed one by one until two new pair of arms were fully shaped. Taking a deep breath, Yuuji slowly chuckled as one of his hands reached up to his head and gripped it and the others wrapped around his waist.

"N-no..no..i.."

"You should be honoured, Yuuji. You get the privilege of becoming one with me, my power is now yours and yours mine." His lips, against his will, began to speak the words of Sukuna as they formed into a forced grin. "N-no..I haven't told her yet. I haven't told N/N that I love—"

"Yuuji?"

Once when he blinked, Yuuji found himself no longer in the shrine but sitting inside of his desk in his old desk with you standing beside him. Seeing you before him, safe and smiling at him, the boy quickly stood up and wrapped his arms around you which took you for surprise in the process but you simply allowed him to let it all out when you hugged him back. "Well hello to you too, welcome back to earth, how was your trip to space..?" You said, chuckling before feeling something wet on your shoulders. His tears.

"Y/N..I..I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything, I should've told you everything. I should'nt have hit you. I just wanted to protect you because...because...I love you!" His words surprised you but you simply smile. "I love you too, Yuuji."

Staring back down at the reflection before him of the boy hugging onto you tightly as he weeped, dark brown eyes shift to that of a bright velvet shade. Sukuna chuckled while stretching out his newly formed body. How good it felt to be back in control, to have actual flesh again and to see this brand new world all to himself. Sure, his power was not what it used to be but he would regain all of his fingers soon enough. As his domain faded away and he found himself back in the decrepit old shrine, he smirked to himself while debating his next order of business.

"Y/N L/N...Maybe I should do this body a favor and seize you for my own."

-----------------------

He wouldn't answer any of your calls or texts. No one has heard or seen of him but now there was a witch hunt for your best friend. As you laid in your dimly lit bedroom with bandages over your nose, you stared down at your phone anxiously awaiting something from Yuuji.

Ring~~~

Ring~~~

Hearing the sound of your phone vibrating, you quickly shot up from the covers an grabbed the phone, unlocking it right away and placing it to your ear.

"Hello?" There was nothing but silence on the other end, the soft howling of the wind being the other thing you could really make out. "Hello..?"

"N/N.." your heart practically stopped for a moment but you felt almost a wave of relief hearing his voice on the other line. "Oh thank god, Yuuji..Are you ok—" "N/N, open the window." Was all he said before then line went dead and you were left sitting there baffled. Did he make it back to your house? Slowly crawling out of the bed and slipping on your bedroom slippers, you walked over towards the window and moved the blinds down only a little to peep outside. Standing there in your backyard, shirtless and with his hands in his pockets was Yuuji, seemingly back to normal and everything. There were not increased height, no weird markings, he looked fine and apart of you wondered if it was just the force of his punch that made you see him change. No..because everyone else saw his appearance too.

Taking a deep breath, you lifted up the blinds and unlatched the window. The second that it was free and opened up, Yuuji had jumped above onto the roof and crawled inside to your room. "Y-yuuji, you have a lot of explaining to do— Whoa, whoa!" You took a step back cautiously but he soon grabbed ahold of your wrist and pulled you close to his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head in the crook of your neck. "I know I do, but first I just want to say I'm sorry to you, Y/N. I never meant to hurt you.." he said, whispering in a soft tone as his hold on you tighten a bit.

"I'm leaving here after tonight but I just had to see you to tell you that I..I love you. I love you, Y/N" Taken back by his words, you felt yourself being pushed onto your bed and watched as the boy loomed over you before crawling onto the mattress.

He loved you. Those words practically made your heart skipped over so many times that you were positive that you had stopped breathing. "Let me come with you, Yuuji." You said, reaching up to his face and caressing his cheeks, "I don't know what's happening but you can trust me. I won't let you go through this alone and I'll always be here with you."

He didn't say much after that. All he did was lower his head a little until your lips were merely inches away from each other before he pressed them together. The sensation you felt was one like fireworks. Those butterflies in your stomach exploding and multiplying over and over again as you felt his tongue licking your bottom lip but you pulled away before he could fully explore your mouth.

"Always..? So you will always stay with me, N/N?" He whispered, head dipping down to your neck as he left a trail of kisses down your warm skin until he kissed the base of your throat. "Yeah..I will." "Do you swear..?" His hands began to grip your hips, running the tips of his fingers against your clothed thighs while he began to press his own hips to your own.

"I-I swear.." you said, staring up at Yuuji with a small smile. He stared at you for a moment, smiling down at you before sitting up, his large hand covering the upper half of his face.

"That's all I need to make you mine." Sliding his hand upwards was when you saw it. Those spare eyes once again on Yuuji's cheeks, staring at you as if it you were nothing but glass. That sincere smile that calmed your soul became a mischievous grin, showing the sharpened fangs he now had. You watched as those pitch blackp markings began to spread over his skin and yet the moment you sat up, two fully grown arms pinned you down onto the mattress. "Almost as naive as the brat himself but I suppose there is some charm to the naivete of a woman. Makes it easier to influence, to change.." 'Yuuji' said, dipping his head down to your ear before biting down on the lobe of it. You gasped out, squirming in his hold.

"Let me go, Yuuji! I don't know what's going on but I want to help! Just let me help you!" You yelled out to him but soon silenced yourself as you noticed the scenery of your bedroom changing. All of your furniture began to disappear one by one as a red hue began to spread around the two of you

In the blink of an eye, you were taken to Sukuna's innate domain. The water that replaced the softness of your bed now causing your back to soaked and your hair now spread out and floating in the depths. "Yell all you want but that brat can't hear you anymore. Gone forever in a dream that will never come true, but I promise I will keep you company in his stead. By the time I am done with you, will forget all about him. All you'll want is me, all you'll ever need is me. The name Ryomen Sukuna will burned into your soul and you'll learn to worship me, N/N..."

With a single swing, the soft yet wet cotton fabric of your shirt and shorts was torn off of you with ease and revealed your now exposed flesh to the cold. Sukuna stared down at them, his tongue licked over his long and sharp fangs as his eyes motioned down to your folds. His hand traveled down your thighs before his finger swiped against the outer circle of your lips yet he looked displeased from what he felt. "Dry as a drought but that's fine. I'll be fucking you regardless" he said, his index finger slowly pushing inside of your virgin cunt causing you to gasp out for air and arch your back. "You tighten just now, dirty whore...Did you often fantasise Yuuji stuffing his cock inside of you...?" he whispered into your ear intimately, he kissed the bottom of your ear and moved onto your neck, sucking until he found the soft spot that made you inhale deeply. 

Sukuna sucked on your neck while constantly kept inserting his finger in you, pumping in and out, eventually adding a second digit. He curled his fingers and caused you let out a faint moan as his finger crept closer to your sweet spot over and over. It was too much, you thought as he bit down onto your soft skin, and you were feeling so good from it so far and it made you ashamed. this demon, this thing was in your best friend's body and now he was using it to currently assault your body but the feeling of it all was too good. You had to keep your eyes shut for looking up at Sukuna tugged at your heart as all you saw was Yuuji.

"Oh you are loving this..." parting from your neck,he looked pleased seeing the angry red hickey left behind.

"I-im not...I'm not..." A moan escaped your lips, feeling something wet replace his fingers. Lifting your head, you saw a mouth on the palm of his hand and its tongue gently licking the nub of your clit almost like a lollipop. "Feels good, doesn't it, N/N..?" His tone was nothing less than mocking, the mouth taking ahold of one of your lips with its teeth causing you to scream out. "I said, it feels good doesnt it? Speak when your master is speaking to you. "

"Y-yes! It feels amazing!" You tasted so sweet on his tongue, circling your clit, lapping at your clenching entrance, kissing your folds. "A-Ah~" You whimper when he folds your legs to your chest, He takes another nip at your clit, as he listened to your hushed whines. Your moans were music to his ears, yet what he wanted from you was his name. The thought of his former vessel's love screaming his name turned him on, the thought of keeping you only fueling the flames. It was harder and harder for him to contain hisself when you're drowning in the pleasure of his mouth licking and sucking at your sloppy pussy.

"I'll take you as mine. You'd like that wouldn't you? Being the woman of the king of curses, waiting for me to return to fill you to the brim." sweat felt like it was pooling out of your body from the attention he was giving to on your clit. Your bucking hips were a clear sign that you were close and so, he pulled his hand away.

"You don't get to come yet. You're only allowed to when you're milking my cock."

The things he did to were things no man has ever done before. Scratches and cuts littered your flesh and bruises were on your sore ass and stomach. There a few times to where you had even blacked out from the amount of pleasure he had given you..

Now you found yourself with you riding his swollen cock as he stared up at you with satisfied eyes, grunting while large hands were pressed against your abused breasts as his hips pumped up into your leaking cunt. Your head felt like it was spinning as you screamed out, orgasm crashing hard as your cunt tightened around his shaft.

As you felt his throbbing cock inside of you, his hand grabbed ahold of your chin and your lips made contact. Sukuna only pulled away when he silently cursed, his seed releasing inside of you for what felt like the billionth time. Taking a deep breath, he stayed inside of your warm hole, not wanting a single drop to spill and kissed your cheek.

Fucking you only assured his choice of keeping you as he own. Sukuna was going to original kill you while taking Yuuji's appearance after taking you but holding you close like this as you soon became limp (no doubt exhausted), your warmth against his own and staring down at your cum stained face..it made something inside him feel strange.

A weakness no doubt, but one at the moment that could keep him entertained. Combing a loose strand of hair behind your ears, Sukuna chuckled.

"From this day forth, you will be my bride. Consider yourself lucky..."

[pascalpanic]

Picture Perfect (Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

Summary: You reflect on a perfect vacation with Marcus.

Warnings: language, talk of flying in planes, mentions of food, implied sexual content and sexual flirting

W/C: 3.6k

A/N: happy Easter loves!!! I really adore this fic and hope you guys do too! It’s part of the Beyond the Sea series I’m writing with the lovely @mandoalorian

Beyond The Sea Masterlist

You never thought you’d see the day when Agent Marcus Pike relaxed for more than a few hours at a time. Luckily, your hand holds three Polaroids, all of them proof of the wonderful week of rest and recharging the two of you just experienced. The plane is leaving now, the islands of Hawaii behind you and endless ocean outside of your plane window. Marcus is snoozing softly, head pressed to your shoulder, and you press a kiss to his beautiful temple. This is the man who holds all of your heart in his hands, and you’ve never been so sure that someone would protect it with their life.

He stirs at the sensation and you chuckle quietly. The roar of the airplane’s pressurized cabin makes everything quieter, and you smile as those brown eyes flutter open. “Just me. Love you. Go back to sleep, babe,” you murmur, and he complies, eyes slipping shut as he nuzzles closer. You look down at your hands again, at the three Polaroids.

The first photo makes you giggle. It was taken the first full day the two of you had in town. Marcus holds a tiny crab in his hands, a look of wonder on his sun-kissed face. He’s shirtless and crouched down, wet sand packed beneath him and patterned swim trunks bringing color to the photo.

The second photo melts your heart. Marcus lies in a hammock in the Polaroid, asleep in the shade. Stripes of light peek through palm fronds, illuminating bits of your boyfriend’s warm body. He wears board shorts and an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt, his normally gelled hair forming soft waves. The sun you’ve spent your days in lightened it, leaving light brown and even blonde streaks in the top layer. A soft pink covers his nose and cheeks- a result of the sun as well. His ukulele is lying next to him in the hammock.

The third photo makes you tear up at the memory. Two dark silhouettes- one clearly yours and one clearly his- are just outlined against an orange, sunset-colored sky.

-

You and Marcus arrived at your condo late at night, tired after the long flights, both cross-country and then across the Pacific Ocean. You’d flown first-class, Marcus insisting he spoil you. It was comfortable, but the pressure of the cabin made your body ache and your joints swell. It was impossible to sleep, even with him to use as a pillow.

The first morning, Marcus rises late: it’s about 10 A.M. local time, and he sighs as he finds you still snoring next to him. You look so peaceful and sweet that he can’t bring himself to wake you.

For the next half hour, he sits on the condo’s porch, overlooking the water. He smiles softly as the occasional breeze passes through, noticing that the air slowly warms.

When you finally wake, you wander out to find Marcus on the balcony. You gasp in excitement as you see the rushing surf. “Oh my god,” you grin and wrap your arms around him from behind. “It’s so gorgeous.”

“Good morning to you too,” he teases as his hands rest on your arms. “Isn’t it though?” He leans back against you, watching the seagulls play in the splashing water. “How did you sleep?” He asks, still eyeing the sprawling ocean. There’s a small reef a few yards from the shore, shallow enough to walk in.

You notice it too. “Good. Can we make some coffee then go explore those little tidal pools?” You ask excitedly as you point at them, resting your chin atop Marcus’s chocolate-brown bed head.

“Of course,” he chuckles, turning to kiss the side of your face. “It’s the perfect time to get some sun, too. We’ll get our swim gear on.”

You press a soft kiss into the top of his head, smiling contentedly at the ocean and Marcus’s steady breathing beneath your arms.  “I love you,” you practically sing to him, overwhelmed by the happiness of the morning.

“I love you too, pretty girl,” he murmurs back and turns to kiss you softly.

Twenty minutes later, each of you finished with one cup of coffee and changed into your bathing suits, you head down to the water and wade in. You squeal as the cold water laps at your ankles, your pink Polaroid camera hanging around your neck. One hand clutches at the pink plastic, lifting it instinctually to keep it dry. Marcus laughs and takes your free hand, the two of you commenting on the water and the sun as you wander to the rocky shoals a few yards out.

The volcanic rock in front of you is filled with holes and crevices, and it’s teeming with life. Marcus’s eyes widen in excitement as he sees a tiny crab. “Oh my god,” he laughs. “Look at this little guy!”

Walking closer, the crab doesn’t scuttle away. “Oh, do you want to be friends?” Marcus coos, squatting down.

“Careful of the waves, babe,” you remind him, a hand on his spine, between those gorgeously thick shoulder blades. “Don’t wanna get a concussion.”

Marcus shakes his head, absolutely beaming as he scoops up the little crab. “Oh, aren’t you the sweetest thing,” he mumbles to it, admiring its brown shell and tiny claws. “You remind me of that guy from Moana.”

Of course your boyfriend would draw that connection. He mutters the lyrics to Shiny from the movie to the crab as he turns to face you, holding it up. “Look, this is our baby now.”

You laugh and shake your head. “Well, I suppose our child needs a name,” you chuckle, daring to stroke the back of the crab’s shell. It snaps its little claws in return, grabbing at nothing in the air.

“Well, how about the crab from Moana? The Tamatoa?” He asks. The little thing’s claws are clacking rhythmically to some inaudible beat.

“Hmm.” You think about it for a moment, lifting the camera and snapping a photo of Marcus holding the tiny crab. “It’s a snippy little thing. Maybe we should name it Teresa,” you snort, laughing to yourself at your own joke.

Marcus frowns. “No, I like it much more than her. You’re our little Tamatoa, aren’t you?” He coos, holding it up to give it a little kiss on the back of his shell.

Classic, typical Marcus. Giving all of his love with no regard for his own safety. You almost see it in slow motion as the tiny crab snips the tip of Marcus’s nose. “Motherfucker,” he cries at the feeling, setting the crab back down immediately.

It makes you laugh much harder than you should. Leaning onto your boyfriend’s tanning skin, you wheeze out laugh after laugh. He joins you too.

When you both finally settle down and catch your breath, you giggle up at Marcus. “Okay, so that little shit was definitely a Teresa.”

Marcus laughs this time, giving you a brief kiss. “You are the absolute love of my fucking life, baby,” he chuckles and the two of you continue your walk.

-

Marcus has always been an early riser, and you forgot to close the shades last night before you passed out in the ridiculously plush bed. The early sunrise warms Marcus’s face until he wakes. He rolls over with a yawn and a stretch before kissing the side of your face. You grunt. “Hi.”

“Good morning, angel,” Marcus’s soft voice coos to you, an arm snaking around your middle. “The sunrise looks beautiful. Want to see?”

“No,” you frown. “Wanna sleep more.”

Marcus pouts, kissing your forehead. “Baby.”

“Fine,” you groan, the sleep starting to wear off anyway. “Only because I love you so much. And because I love your dick and don’t want it withheld from me this week,” you tease, sitting up and kissing him softly.

“Yeah yeah,” he laughs and stands, wandering over to the large window in the bedroom.

Your eyes widen at the beauty as you see the gorgeous colors of the sky. The sunrise is behind you, but the horizon is still shifting in hue, pinks and purples and oranges with the dark blue slowly fading away. Marcus wraps his arms around you as you stand next to him. “See. This wasn’t so bad to get out of bed for.”

Nodding, you rest your head against his chest. “I suppose it wasn’t. I’ll go make us coffee,” you murmur and press a kiss to his bare pec, giving his ass a light squeeze as you walk past him.

The two of you make your plans for the day over the coffee, discussing your options and ultimately choosing that today would be the perfect day to find a secluded little beach and just relax in the sun. They wouldn’t be hard to find around here: unlike other places you’d been, it seemed like the shore was endlessly beach.

Parking in a free lot, locking your ragtop Jeep behind you, you and Marcus wander down the beach for a while until you find the perfect spot. How did you know? Marcus spotted the perfect marker: a hammock.

Tied between two palm trees, under the shade of the fronds, was a woven hammock. It had no pillows, blankets, no one around and no belongings. Marcus decided it was yours now- or at least for the day.

The white sand is warm beneath your feet, flying out as Marcus chases you. You’d stolen his sunglasses just moments ago and now you’re running. “Get back here!”

“Only if you fuck me right here and right now!” You teasingly call over your shoulder.

Marcus stops, as if he’s considering it. You do too. Then he picks up into a faster run. “There’s too much sand for that, you little shit!”

Giggling, you stop and let Marcus crash into you, his warm body slick from the tanning oil he’d slathered on. You naturally wrap your arms around his neck. Marcus plucks the sunglasses from your head and puts them back on. “Thank you.”

“Any time, Pikey,” you tease and kiss him softly as his arms wrap around your waist. That was the name you’d called him when you first met, when you were young, up-and-coming interns for the FBI.

The two of you wander back, lying on your beach towels for hours and absorbing the warm rays. You and Marcus snack on some packed food, staring out into the ocean and chatting. It’s absolutely perfect.

Marcus is ever the early riser. You’re usually the one to end up taking a nap if the last night of sleep didn’t satisfy you or Marcus woke you up for some godforsaken reason. As he lies next to you, though, you hear a yawn slip from his lips. “Sorry, what was that?” You clarify teasingly.

Marcus scowls. “I get tired too.”

“Bullshit,” you laugh. “Do you want to go cuddle in the hammock?” You ask, and he nods as he sits up.

Marcus is wearing just his board shorts, but there’s a cool breeze in the shade. He tosses on his Hawaiian shirt, leaving it unbuttoned. He looks so effortlessly cool, that brown hair starting to get slightly wavy from the salty air. His sunglasses sit just slightly lower on the bridge of his aquiline nose, and it makes you grin. You toss a t-shirt on as well, and you grin as you realize Marcus opens his ukulele case.

“I knew you’d use it,” you grin at him as he settles in the hammock. He’d debated bringing it along, contemplating the hassle, but you’d told him he practically had to- you’re in Hawaii, after all. You scoot in next to him and rest your head on his shoulder.

“Will you play me a song by Abba?” You ask him softly, the rush of the ocean and the wind filling your ears.

Marcus nods and kisses your forehead before giving the strings a strum to test some chords. He finally starts playing a soft version of Andante Andante, and your eyes slip shut. His voice is so beautiful and soothing, and you can’t help but quietly sing along.

“I’m your music… I’m your song…

Play me time and time again, make me strong…”

He’s everything you’ve ever wanted, ever prayed to whatever being up there that you’d meet the right person for you someday. He’s soft and warm and strong. He’s protective but gentle and the most caring man to ever walk the face of the earth.

Marcus starts noodling around on the ukulele, playing some random chords and notes. “I love you so much,” you sigh and snuggle in tighter against him.

He puts down the ukulele and wraps his arms around you, kissing your temple gently. “I love you too, baby. So much, endlessly.” He’s so perfectly cozy that you cuddle on top of him, and he welcomes the position. He wraps his arms around your body and kisses your neck.

The two of you stay cuddled up like that, tired from the long day in the sun, for quite a while. Before long, you recognize the different breathing pattern Marcus has slipped into- sleep. Smiling softly, you allow yourself to remain nuzzled into your boyfriend’s body for a while longer.

After some time, you sigh and realize you should probably wake him and return to the condo. The sun is starting to sink lower in the sky: not enough to be sunset, but enough to know what’s approaching. Careful not to wake him, you clamber out of the hammock and grin at the image. It’s too perfect.

You grab your Polaroid and snap the photo: Marcus is asleep, sunglasses fallen down his nose, Hawaiian shirt open, ukulele next to him. The hammock sways in the breeze, peeks of light from between palm leaves shining down on him. You giggle when the photo develops and it’s the sound of your laughter that wakes him. “Huh?” He groans, sitting up and losing his balance as he realizes his resting spot is moving.

You walk over on your knees, the sand moving with you and allowing you to do so. You kiss him gently for a moment before breaking away. “You fell asleep, love. It’s just about time to head back to the condo.”

“How long?” He asks groggily, pushing up his sunglasses and rubbing his eyes.

“You were only out for about half an hour,” you assure him and rub his arm.

His eyes are still closed but he smiles at that. “I heard you take that Polaroid,” he chuckles, and pulls you in for another kiss that muffles your noise of defeat.

-

Two days later, you can hear Marcus singing along to his music in the shower as you get ready for the evening. Sitting at the vanity in the suite’s luxurious bathroom, you apply your makeup, opting to keep things light. You wear a nice outfit and fidget with your appearance in the mirror, touching little things here and there.

A few minutes later, Marcus wanders out with a towel around his waist, his skin reddened from the hot shower. “Hey. You look… amazing,” he grins as he looks at you, taking in the sight. “I can’t compete.”

You grin and walk closer, putting a hand on his warm skin. “It’s a good thing it’s not a competition,” you tease, faces close together. “You’re going to look wonderful too.” You kiss him softly for a moment before he breaks away to get dressed.

The sun is above the horizon, just about to sink into sunset. Fuck, Marcus thinks to himself as he realizes he needs to move quickly. He puts on the nice outfit he’d picked earlier, messing with his hair in the mirror. Not more than few minutes later, he’s back at your side. “Ready?” He asks.

You nod with a smile. “You hurried.”

Marcus shrugs, pursing his lips and shaking his head. You know that look, you’ve known it since the very first time he did it. He’s terrible at bluffing. Something is hidden behind those eyes. “Just… don’t wanna miss sunset,” he murmurs and kisses you on the cheek, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You’d planned on dinner at a luxurious restaurant located within a fancy hotel, but Marcus insisted that you’d be at the beach for the sunset. When you finally reach the resort, you wander through the gorgeous surroundings until you find the white sand beach in front of you.

Marcus walks with one hand in yours, the other in his pocket. He’s quieter than normal, holding back his remarks about the wildlife and gorgeous architecture of the buildings.

There’s a small gazebo just off the sand, and Marcus walks you up. “Well… surprise,” he chuckles, showing you the little shelter. It’s strung with twinkling lights and white gauze, the ocean’s breeze rippling the fabric. There’s a table with a white cloth covering it, champagne glasses at the ready and flowers sat in the center.

“I thought you said we were eating at the restaurant,” you exclaim but laugh in surprise, setting your purse and Polaroid camera next to the chair.

His eyes twinkle with excitement. “Well, they offered this. How could I choose the restaurant when we could have dinner in our own little private gazebo?” He chuckles. “They won’t start the service for a little while. Want to go walk on the beach a little longer?”

“Marcus,” you coo and take his arm, wrapping both of your arms around it. “You’re the most romantic man on the face of the earth.”

He shakes his head and kisses your forehead. “Only for you. Come on, let’s walk.”

The two of you stroll along, the gorgeous sunset behind the dark and rolling ocean. The breeze rustles Marcus’s hair, and you grin as you see it happen. “This is… amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” he mumbles and nudges you with his shoulder, making you stumble to the side and laugh. “Can I ask you something?”

Looking up at him, you breathe out a small laugh. “When have you ever asked first?” You tease him, but you stop when he stops walking.

His hand squeezes yours a little tighter and he moves so you’re no longer standing side-to-side but facing each other. He takes both of your hands. “You know how much I love you. I really can’t imagine you wouldn’t, because I know you love me just the same.”

Your brain flies a mile a minute as he starts talking. It sounds too planned, not at all the spontaneous man your Marcus is and has always been. Wait-

“You are, without a doubt, the best thing in my life. I’ve been burned by love before, but you’re everything I’ve ever needed. You’re the only one who has ever reassured me and calmed me and silenced that endless buzzing of fear in my head. I know you’d never leave me, and I hope you know I’d never leave you.”

“Marcus,” you whisper, and your eyes well with tears as he falls to one knee in the soft sand, his own eyes shimmering with tears.

“And, if it’s alright with you, I want to promise you I’ll never leave you. I want to make it so official that nothing can ever separate us, not time or distance or anything. And I figured the best way to do that is, well… fuck, I messed it up,” he winces.  “I had all the words, I swear-“

“Just ask me the question, baby,” you laugh, the tears falling down your face. You know what’s coming now, as he reaches into his pocket and presents you with a velvet box.

He opens it and inside is the most gorgeous ring you’ve ever seen. It suits you. Of course it does: Marcus knows you better than you know yourself. You can tell when you look into his eyes that no one else ever would or could know you like he does.

He stutters for a moment before you fall to your knees in the sand in front of him. “It’s okay, you know what I’m gonna say,” you say quietly, cupping his face with both hands. “Just… say it. Please.”

He bites his lip then looks into your eyes. “Will you marry me?”

“Of course I will,” you laugh and wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him happily. “Yes, Marcus Pike. I will marry you. I love you so much,” you murmur in between kisses.

“I’m so pathetic,” he laughs as the happy tears trail down both of your faces, him sitting back on his heels and you following suit.

“Oh shut up,” you laugh and hold out your left hand. Marcus takes the ring from the small box and slides it onto your finger, grinning as he notices it fits just right.

Swallowing hard, you laugh at the fact that your makeup must be trailing down your face. Marcus wipes the tears with one large hand, his other cupping yours and admiring the way the ring looks against your skin. He kisses your knuckles and you giggle uncontrollably.

“I get to be Mrs. Pikey now,” you grin and he nods.

“Of course. I mean, if you want to take my name. You don’t have to,” he rushes, shaking his head and blowing a raspberry. “I didn’t even think about that really, just figured that you’d tell me what you wanted first.” His words are a blur of relief, the anxiety fading from his body.

“Marcus,” you laugh softly, your hands cupping his face once more. “It’s okay. Just… relax,” you laugh as one of his hands covers yours, his fingers slotting between yours.

He nods. “I think I finally can now,” he chuckles and kisses you one last time.

-

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@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @sugarontherims

[marichat-verse]

Mist Memories

Leo Valdez x reader for his birthday ahhhh (even though it's angsty) with a platonic/developing jason x reader cameo at the end (lmao im sorry i couldn't help myself 😭)

Based on this picture I found in pinterest + also [kinda] based on traitor by olivia rodrigo and omg i really recommend u guys listen to this edit because it reminds me so much of this fic that's been stuck in my head for MONTHS also kind of a run away with me prologue lol

Your POV

I nervously made my way across the forest until I reached a limestone cliff. I knocked on the iron door, not really expecting to get an answer.

My boyfriend has been shutting himself in Bunker 9 for the past few weeks. I stood there counting up to seven before knocking again. I knocked again two more times, until he answered in the middle of my last knock.

He removed his goggles and winced as sunlight hit his eyes. He'd grown thinner and paler, making the dark circles in his eyes more pronounced.

"Oh, Leo..." I reached out to brush a few strands of hair away from his face, but he moved away.

"What are you doing here?" He said in a monotone voice.

I moved to walk inside the Bunker, brushing off his hesitation to let me in. "I'm your partner, remember? And I'm really concerned because you're shutting yourself out lately. You know everyone's starting to worry about you. Percy asked me to check on you because you missed pegasus riding with him. Oh, and I'm pretty sure Jason's coming back from Camp Jupiter soon. I was hoping you and Annabeth could be with Piper while Percy and I hung out with Jason because it's been a little awkward since their breakup. Plus Piper wanted to tell you something—"

"Please," he said forcefully causing me to stop and look at him. "Just... Get out."

Normally, he'd shut himself from the world for a few days to work on an important project or because he was feeling really sad and he needed space. But this was getting out of hand. He had never locked me out of his life when I offered to help him. He was never this mean when he asked for space. I was not having this attitude of his.

"Okay, Leo. I tried to play nice. What is so important that you blow off all your friends for nearly a month that you can't even tell your partner, or maybe say hi to your best friend who's coming back from the other side of the country?"

He didn't say anything. He pursed his lips and avoided eye contact. I scanned he room for any signs.

It was messier than usual with all the crumpled paper scattered on the floor, especially on his desk. He could have been drawing up new plans. Something in my gut told me that something wasn't right. There were no new unfinished projects, indicating that he wasn't starting a new invention. Harley's helicopter lay on his bench in the same state it was weeks ago. Huh, not even his siblings could enter the Bunker.

I turned and Leo was already changing Festus' oil. I took this moment of distraction to pick up a few pieces of crumpled paper on the floor and on his desk. I had to process the words a bit longer—too long that Leo took notice. Damn dyslexia.

I heard footsteps speed up behind me, but it was too late. I read enough and got the gist of what he had been trying to do these past few weeks.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He yelled at me. Small embers started to erupt between his curls.

I laughed dryly. "So this is what you've been up to?"

His fists tightened, further crumpling the paper in his hands. His eyes flashed with anger, despair and confusion.

I sighed and focused my eyes on his desk, not daring to look at him any longer. Under some pieces of paper were old photographs of him and Piper from Wilderness School. Yup, those definitely were the mist memories she had with Jason. I read the latest draft he'd been writing:

Dear Piper,

Remember the mist memories from boarding school with Jason? They were real, but they were with me.

I miss you. I miss when it was just us. I miss the night on the roof.

Yours truly,

Leo Valdez

I tried to keep my voice from cracking. "How long?"

I heard him sigh. "Three weeks."

I balled my fists. Tears started to fall and smudge the ink. I wiped them away as fast as they came.

"How?"

"In a dream," his tone softened now. "Hera came to me in a dream and told me to check an old drawer in Bunker 9. I found the photos and the memories came rushing back."

"How long were you dating back then?"

"Two weeks."

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

Silence; then a deep breath.

"No."

I shook my head in disbelief. "Why?"

"Because I knew you'd get upset like—"

"I meant why would you throw away months of our relationship for a couple of weeks of your relationship with her? And without even bothering to tell me? Gods damn it, Leo. We've been together since you've first arrived at camp. And what about those promises you made when we were sailing to Greece? You've been keeping these feelings away from me and you've been lying to me, making me believe that there's still something between us and—"

"Oh, calm down," he said with an annoyed expression and tone, which only infuriated me more, "it's not like I did anything were her yet! I didn't kiss her or tell her how I truly felt for her! She just got out of a relationship with Jason around the same time I had that dream. I had to figure out how to talk to her about it. I've been alone in this Bunker for three. Fucking. Weeks. I didn't cheat on you."

"Oh, and that makes everything better?" I countered. "Being in a relationship isn't about not cheating, Leo. It's about being honest and communicating with each other."

"Oh, like you've been communicating with me? After the war, you take go back to Manhattan for school, and you take a job. I haven't seen you much during the holidays because work has been keeping you in the city. And you won't tell me what you even do for a living!"

I took in a deep breath. "I told you I needed to have a life outside of camp! I needed to know first that I could handle myself in the mortal world as a normal human being. I needed this demigod part of my life to be separate as much as possible! I've been in two wars, Leo. I needed time to myself, too. And I was about to tell you guys in a few more days. But I guess now, I'm glad I've kept you out of that part of my life. At least I have an escape from all of this. And now, especially from you."

I took another deep breath and walked to the door, about to let myself out. I turned back again, both our tear-stained eyes meeting each other.

"If it makes you feel any better," I said softly, "I would've hated the idea of us breaking up. But if you really love her, if you really feel like you have this special connection to her and she makes you happy, then I won't get in your way. You could at least have had the decency to talk to me so we could have left on a good note."

He looked at me with wide eyes, clearly regretting his actions. I sighed and looked around the Bunker, possibly for the last time. Lots of memories were definitely created in this room; all just as grand and meaningful as the inventions they made here. But just like some of Hephaestus' contraptions, some of them were flawed and dumped in his scrapyard, no matter how much potential it could have had.

"Goodbye, Leo."

I sat on a rock on the beach that gave me a beautiful view of Long Island Sound. To my left, the sun started to set, casting an orange filter on everything. My heart broke, remembering how everything glowed orange in the Bunker. Leo always left the fires burning when he was working. The sunlight twinkling against the sea reminded me of how small bits of flame peaked through his hair earlier. I remembered how mad he was at me. Or maybe he was mostly mad at himself.

"Hey."

I jumped when someone sat—or rather, landed—beside me. I turned and smiled, seeing one of my good friends back at camp.

"Hey, you're back," I said weakly. "How long have you been here?"

He smiled at me, although he could maybe sense that something was wrong. "Half an hour, maybe? I saw Annabeth making plans to expand camp to have a city. She made me do an aerial inspection and I told her I'll get back to her tonight. That's when I saw you."

"Mhmm," I mumbled, not really knowing what to say. It was silent for a few minutes before I spoke up again, knowing he was just waiting for me to open up.

"I broke up with Leo."

His head quickly turned to me. I guess he wasn't expecting it to be that bad. "What?"

"Oh yeah," I laughed dryly. "Turns out the mist memories Piper had in Wilderness School with you? They were real. But not with you."

His eyes widened. "Oh... With Leo."

"He locked himself in the Bunker for weeks trying to write a letter. It was heartbreaking. Like, truly heartbreaking. He wanted to tell her how much he missed her and how much he missed them. Then he said how much he missed that night with her under the stars and... It hurt. Like hell."

"Oh," he said. "I guess Piper didn't tell me everything then."

"She knew all along?"

He shook his head. "Maybe not everything, but she told me she's been confused about her feelings lately and she'd been having visions or dreams of possible old memories that were messing with her head."

"I'm sorry about you and Piper," I said.

"Don't be," he said. "I understand her. It did hurt, though. But I think I can get over it some day. We're still awkward around each other, but at least we left on a good note."

I scoffed. "Leo couldn't even give me a good ending to our relationship."

"Hey," he said as he put a hand on my shoulder. "You're a great person, y/n. You've done so much, especially for him. It's his loss that he was stupid enough to let go of you."

"I know that."

"Do you really?"

"I do!" I said. "I'm a great person and I know that. But that doesn't mean what he did doesn't hurt me."

"I know," he said. "You'll find someone who'll treat you like the queen that you are. You're a great person, and I'm not just saying this to cheer you up. I truly think you're amazing."

I smiled at him. "Thanks, Jason. And you'll find someone great, too. Maybe not as great as me but, then again, who is?"

We both let out a laugh. The conch sounded in the distance, signaling dinner. I moved to stand up before hearing Jason speak up again.

"Hey, do you maybe want to just grab a couple of plates and eat out here?"

I smiled. "Yeah. That sounds good. I don't really want everyone else hounding me about the breakup right now."

I don't know how long it was going to take me to get over Leo. We really did gave something special. It was cruel how the universe gave me something so good, to make me have hope that something was finally going right, then have it yanked away from my arms just as suddenly as it came.

He never cheated on me, but that didn't mean he didn't betray every promise we made to each other. I should have known it was too good to be true. Life has always played cruel jokes on me.

Then again, who's to say that things won't turn out for the better, right?

•••

Tagging: @drvrslcense @bubblybubbubs @dreamerball @quteez @aesthetxcimagines @chasingpj @beingleft @wadewilsonsgreatestfriend

[cockasinthebird]

So so so long ago, I told the dearest @opaldraws that I would write her a fic for her Instagram Steve au, which is one of my favourite aus because he so would have a huge following and post gorgeous lavish pics of himself with all that his parents’ money can buy, and I did start writing it! Only it took me, say, half a year or more to finish it??

So here you go! To Opal and every other reader, I hope you enjoy!

-

His oversized shirt a dusty rosa, fuzzy and just a bit too long in the sleeves, the neck of it slipping down to expose moles dotting one shoulder. Skinny jeans in a light denim hug his legs like they were sewn for him specifically, it’s a wonder to behold. 

Steve is warm and cozy inside, lying down on a daybed, surrounded by pillows, posing in front of large windows peering out onto the frozen forest, barren and covered in snow. Hawkins is brutally cold during the winters; so unforgiving that the photo shoots they do outside are thankfully scarce, even though Steve would work himself sick with a cold.

If it wasn’t for Billy and his stern insistence, Steve would have gotten frostbite seven times already this winter daring to wear just too little for the sake of fashion and aesthetic. Anything for his 800k followers.

But all his adoring boyfriend can really do most of the time is stand behind the camera and appreciate all of Steve’s gorgeous self with an all too satisfied sigh, as Steve glances over his shoulder at the camera, lashes done up with just a gentle hint of mascara, hearts scattered like freckles across his nose and cheeks. 

Valentines is two weeks away by now, and Steve wants to show off and inspire some date looks, soft and delicate and beautiful. He never does anything with his hair, really, everyone already so jealous of the phenomenal floof of it that he wouldn’t ever dream of changing it now - the pastel aesthetic and his hair is practically his entire brand!

He poses on his stomach with his legs bent, feet kicking in the air, sleeves pulled over his hands as he smiles coyly.

Then he’s on his side, chest turned towards the camera, one leg bent with an arm draped over it, face turned away to give the perfect profile. 

And then he’s on his back, head hanging over the foot end of the daybed, hair just grazing the floor as he looks directly into the camera, eyes big and brown.

Just like Bambi, is the oft used comparison by Billy, and even if this is slightly boring, he can’t help but smile at how utterly beautiful his boyfriend is.

He stays kneeling there, even as he lowers the phone to meet with Steve’s gaze directly, and all the same, Steve stays hanging there, smiling at the way Billy stares with adoration.

“What?” he huffs incredulously.

Billy doesn’t find words to respond right away, he’s always more adept with action instead, and moves in to kiss those perfect lips, so soft and pink, both of them smiling into the embrace, Billy’s hands smoothing across Steve’s cheeks, careful as to not ruin the makeup. 

“I just… love you,” Billy hums with closed eyes, not giving Steve time to miss him.

And Steve laughs again - a sound so blithe and full of joy it’s invigorating and humbling. He reaches up to run his fingers down Billy’s golden curls, raking painted nails across his scalp and tugs there gently till he receives a delighted groan.

At the parting of lips, Steve dives in with his tongue, meeting Billy’s in a lackadaisical sense that urges forth affable moans from both, heat surging up and down Steve’s splayed out shape with every salacious little noise.

“Mmmh, ah… are you- are you done?” Billy whispers, travels away from lips to kiss along Steve’s freshly shaved jawline.

There’s no immediate response as Steve stays still, enjoying the praising kisses like gentle butterflies. He eventually grabs Billy by the sides of his face to guide him away, letting their eyes meet, staying there for seconds too long, admiring the ocean view; crystal clear waters brimming with love.

“Just getting started,” he chuckles once more, but the intent of it this time far more salacious, and Billy’s quick to catch on to that.

Steve rolls around in a rush and gets up on all fours, back arched beautifully, the large sweater hanging loose off of him. He bats his lashes at Billy, who can’t help the insanely cheesy grin spreading from ear to ear, before reaching down to yank at the belt loops of Billy’s jeans, beckoning him to stand up.

And Billy would never dream of not giving his princess what he wants, getting up on his feet only to bring his half hard cock straight into Steve’s eyesight.

A pleased hum roams around Steve’s chest as he slowly undoes Billy’s belt, gazing up with a sly little smirk as he pops free the button and lets the zipper run loose. When fingers curl around the denim to pull down his pants, Billy himself grabs the hem of his shirt and throws it over his head and away, never-minding where it might land since literally nothing else matters right now other than the way Steve’s licking his lips.

“Look so good for me, sweetheart,” Billy coos and gently pushes away the few locks that obscures Steve’s pretty face. “Gorgeous.”

He knows that that’s all Steve wants to hear - that he’s pretty and beautiful and gorgeous and attractive and desired, and Billy knows that flattery will get him everywhere, but even if he sought no boon, he’d still spend every single day of his life praising his boyfriend endlessly, and he plans on doing just that till there’s no more breath in his lungs.

But right now it proves most helpful in urging Steve on, leading him to run his open mouth along the thick outline of Billy’s trapped cock, tongue out to wet the fabric of his black trunks, up to the tip where he nibbles with lips around the head, lapping at where pre cum stains.

The euphoric sensation can be heard in Billy’s stuttering breath, seen in the manner his abs twitch with restraint, felt by the hand tugging in dark locks of hair.

Steve teases the elastic band of Billy’s underwear as he moves further up, dipping his fingers in and running them around the waist, lips just inches above to kiss the warm and taut skin. At an all too torturous pace he pulls down the fabric just enough to expose Billy’s flushed and steely cock, Steve’s lustful gaze following a throbbing vein from the shiny head to the waxed base.

He leans in to press his nose against the fresh skin, inhaling the musky scent deeply, planting wet kisses on every inch within reach, and finally wraps his fingers around Billy’s all too eager erection, the blushing bride nail-polish pairing well with the red of his hard cock.

“Stevie…” Billy breathes his name reverently, filled with lust and devotion, hands petting soft hair.

And Steve gazes up through his lashes at the amorous whisper of his name, taking in how intently Billy watches his every movement. Eyes locked together like this, Steve slips out his tongue to wet his lips till they’re shiny and slick with spit, then presses it flat against the side of Billy’s girthy cock, licking the entire length of it, all the while admiring how his boyfriend gasps and moans at the sight of a most salacious display.

“Fuck, baby,” his voice airy with anticipation.

The hand around him squeezes gently and he can’t help the inevitable thrust as his body seeks more friction. Just so, Steve can’t help the self-satisfied and amused little hum either, mouth vibrating against the veiny shaft, which only worsens the situation for Billy even more as he practically whines,

“Shit, pretty boy, please.”

“Well…” Steve muses and runs the tip of his tongue over Billy’s leaking slit, slow and agonizing, treasuring the salty taste of him. “You did say please.”

He slathers up his lips with spit before closing them around the blunt head, pressing it up against his palate as he sinks all the way down to the base, sloppy in the way he massages every inch of hard flesh with his tongue, eyes fluttering closed as Billy reaches the back of his throat.

Steve revels in every single sound Billy let’s out, the drawn out notes of pleasure.

“God, ahh…”

With hollow cheeks he moves back to the head, tongue swirling around like he’s enjoying a lollipop, fingers back around the now shiny shaft to stroke all of his length that isn’t inside Steve’s mouth. Fast then slow, the pressure perfected in a way that proves just how often he’s done this. He drinks up every spurt of pre, twisting and turning his head in tact with his hand, allowing the occasional thrusts Billy can’t hold back.

Until fingers pull at his hair; hard and earnest enough to make Steve stop and move off, looking up at Billy with red and shiny lips, well used and oh so pretty, oh so enticing. He lets himself be guided up on his knees, meeting Billy where he bends over to kiss him, hungrily tasting how exquisite his own pre and Steve’s spit mixes sweetly together, thumb smoothing over his cheeks and down to drag at Steve’s chin, opening up his mouth to let Billy lick into his heat, suck on his tongue and lightly nibble at his swollen lip.

“Fuck, sweetcheeks,” Billy breathes out and presses their foreheads together, “I wanna cum in you so bad.”

A delighted hum bubbles forth from Steve’s chest and out through the warmest smile any one human can manage, and oh how pleasant it sounds when he says, “Go get the lube, then.”

Billy kisses his forehead once, twice, thrice before awkwardly waddling towards the doorway, struggling to step out of his jeans, then whipping around so fast his mullet snaps in the air.

“Don’t… get undressed without me…” he says most ardently with a raised finger for emphasis.

And before Steve even gets to answer, Billy’s pantsless; hurrying through the hallway, heading for the stairs and leaving behind a trail of his boxers and socks. It’s nice to know how comfortable he is here in Steve’s house, no parents around, no siblings or kids. Just the two of them in solitude together.

He can be heard upstairs, running with heavy feet from the stairs and into Steve’s bedroom, to the bedside table where he finds the bottle immediately, then runs back the same way he came from, till he’s standing once more in the doorway to the conservatory, in such record time he should maybe consider joining the track team come summer.

Slightly affected by running, he breathes out heavily, “Now… do continue…”

Steve’s smile goes wide, feels it burn in his cheeks as he leans down to yank off his socks, balls them up together and throws them at where Billy stands and receives a laugh in return of that.

“You’re impossible,” he says lowly and with a slight roll of the eyes, but Steve’s quick to bring a finger up to his lips and make a shushing sound.

Next the zipper runs free and Steve sits back down on the daybed to pull the skinny jeans off in a rather awkward manner, almost as if he’s vaguely refusing to give Billy exactly what he wants, but it seems inevitable when Steve then gathers his legs closed, the oversized knit sweater pooling slightly around where he’s seated, giving the illusion that he’s wearing nothing else, a shoulder still peeking out. 

Billy’s gaze travels up Steve’s bare legs to where moles vanish beneath the rosa fabric, and when their eyes meet, heat clashes together between them with unspoken intentions.

Steve only breaks eye contact to look down at where Billy now starts slowly stroking himself, and he bites his lip at the sight of it, veiny and wet, electric lust coursing through him and down. Down to where he’s been oh so needy and hard for far too long now. And as he leans back, supporting himself with one hand on the daybed, he reaches for the hemline of his sweater, keeps his lip caught between teeth, eyes heavy and sensual as he watches Billy licking his lips in anticipation.

So simple in truth, when Steve lifts up his shirt just enough to give Billy a clear view of his lengthy dick, the outline of it perfect in white briefs, a wet spot forming at the head. Even from here Steve can hear the way Billy’s breath shudders, can hear how he pants and exhales.

“God, Bambi, what’d I ever do to deserve you?”

That gentle praise is all Steve needs, to be told he’s something to be deserved, something holy maybe, cherished and desired to a point where people can’t function. It’s like magic, and it works all those wonders, too, as proven by how Steve spreads his legs and lifts the shirt even higher, up and up till he pulls it over his head, ruffling his hair, but that doesn’t matter right now.

All that matters is Steve giving Billy what he wants, and Billy giving Steve what he needs.

Billy approaches him slowly, suddenly not finding urgency of importance, to then kneel before Steve like one would at a shrine. Kissing firmly with devotion he travels up the inside of pale thighs, giving attention to every mole in his path till he’s met with the leg of white trunks.

Much to Steve’s irritation, Billy skips right past the entire area covered still in cloth, and continues from where the elastic waistband hugs tightly, kissing his way across Steve’s abs, his pecs, collarbone, neck, chin, and instinctively Steve lets his mouth slip open as Billy’s tongue glides across his lower lip before dipping into a sweet and ardent kiss.

In the same moment of such pure infatuation as is found in between their lips, Billy’s fingers hook themselves on the border of Steve’s trunks, whom in turn lifts up his ass to allow for the elastic band to smoothly slip past and down his thighs, his wettened dick hitting his stomach with a lucid slap.

Billy breaks away for them both to gasp for air, to look down at where Steve is drenched in pre.

“So wet for me, princess,” he drawls alluringly, bringing one hand to wrap his fingers gently around Steve’s hardened flesh.

“Mmhm, fuck, Billy…” Steve coos in tact with the slow stroking of his cock, fighting the urge to thrust into the temperate fist, each jerk sending sparks up his spine, causing his thighs to shake.

And Billy kisses the euphoric furrow between Steve’s brows, his flushed cheeks, the moles there, his jaw, down the slope of his neck to bury his nose in the crook and inhales the lingering scent from his honey body wash.

Steve’s head falls back with whines and whimpers at the near lackadaisical stroking, far too little friction, agonizing, lovely. He tilts his head aside and brings a hand up to guide Billy till their lips meet, sloppy and loose kisses as Steve whispers most pathetically,

“Please, don’t tease me like this, Billy, I need you…”

“Then let me take care of you,” says Billy as he leans away to meet with Steve’s gaze, who nods with a sigh.

It’s a bit of a mess really, getting comfortable on the daybed that’s barely long enough for one adult to lay there, then with a billion pillows as well that spill onto the floor as Steve shoves them away to lay down flat against the cushioned seating. There’s limbs everywhere and a near kick to Billy’s face as they settle with him kneeling between Steve’s legs, but it’s all with a good laugh and wide smiles as nothing can truly deter their drive to be brought together like this.

“So gorgeous like this, sweet stuff, all for me,” Billy drawls, voice thick with how possessive he truly is. 

Steve’s thighs fall further apart at that; how easy he is when subjected to Billy’s heated gaze that promises him everything, that lustful tongue that swipes across his lips, the hand smoothly slipping down the inside of his thigh, palm heavy and burning, inching closer and closer to where Steve is suddenly so starved.

The lube that gets drizzled onto Billy’s fingers is cold when pressed against Steve’s entrance, sending a wave of goosebumps up his thighs, eliciting a little shocked inhale from above.

“Cold?” Billy asks with a well humoured huff as he looks up.

“Cold,” Steve says like it’s an important statement, yet he can’t help but to smile at the way Billy chuckles lightly.

And when Billy kisses Steve’s inner thigh all apologetic, he can only hum pleasantly, and when the tip of a digit goes in, moan. He drops his head back and onto a pillow as Billy continues to move his finger deeper and deeper, down to the knuckle just to pull out again without pause, setting a gentle and slow pace of thrusting his middle finger in and out of Steve’s lubed up, clenching hole.

“Mmh, ahh,” Steve breathes out loud as he melts like butter, mixing with the way Billy kisses soothingly up and down his thigh.

It doesn’t take long before Billy’s confident that Steve can take another digit, and is proven right with the, “Yes, God,” that spills from parted lips with a satisfied sigh. Billy loves watching how easily his fingers slide in and out, loves listening to the moans that grow louder when he curls the two fingers inside, loves feeling how Steve’s body tightens around him whenever he finds that bundle of nerves and presses against it. How Steve’s entire body writhes in the pleasure of it, moving to seek more, as if he’s in charge here.

“Please,” he pleads.

“That feel good?” Billy asks with a smug grin pressed against soft skin, looking up in hopes of catching how Steve’s face crumbles as he begs.

The answer is a short, airy, “Yes,” as if longer words would steal from his moaning and keening.

He doesn’t get a third finger before Billy’s already lubing his girthy cock up, because he knows how Steve wants it; how he loves the slight burn as his body stretches around his boyfriend’s width. And in true fashion of that, Steve gasps almost ecstatically as Billy lines up the tip of his fat prick with Steve’s clenching, tight hole.

“God, please, yes Billy-” he rambles out until Billy starts pushing in and his words are abruptly discontinued to instead allow a loud and euphoric moan freedom.

Billy inches closer and closer as he stays on his knees, the daybed just the perfect height for such a salacious affair, like it was bought subconsciously for a good and thorough fucking. And lucky for them how alone and quiet it is out here, for surely everyone in Hawkins would hear how vocal Steve is when he gets pounded in bed, how he can’t shut up even now as Billy’s just about bottoming out, groaning at how Steve clenches hungrily around the base of his cock.

How beautifully Steve’s back arches as his body trembles, a hand up to grasp at Billy’s shoulder, his face buried in brown hair and soft pillows, from where he pants breathlessly as he adjusts to the welcome intrusion.

It’s all too tempting to just bend down and kiss up along Steve’s pale stomach, lick a heavy tongue across perky nipples that can be felt in the way his body twitches and his breath stutters, nibble gently at his jaw once more, before whispering out,

“You fit me so well, Bambi, like your body was made for me to love.”

At that, Steve turns his head to catch the awe and adoration in those crystal clear eyes, but as Billy pulls out just to thrust back in, his eyes screw shut with exhilaration once more, a loud, “Fuck,” escaping.

Billy grunts as he speeds up to feed the urgent need they both give voice to. But it’s not enough. Not enough until Billy climbs onto the plushy bench, pushing Steve up higher till they’re both fully up on the daybed with those long legs tied around tan hips. 

With an iron grip on the frame above Steve’s head, Billy uses the leverage to slam into his boyfriend’s craving hole, skin growing sweaty as it slaps together between them, his other hand down by a hip to guide their bodies together.

Between curses Billy can’t help to let out sweet honey, too, “God you’re so good to me, baby, sounding like an angel choir when I fuck you like this.”

Steve’s hands both immediately land on either side of Billy’s head and pull him into a kiss brimming with love and desire. “I love you,” he speaks softly, like it’s his most cherished truth, “I love you Billy.”

And Billy can’t help the chuckle that brushes against Steve’s lips between kisses, as hearing this still shocks him, even after years of dating and having sex. It’s astonishing that someone this beautiful and magnificent can’t love a beast like himself.

He curls around Steve; wrapping both his arms around his back as he draws them both nearer, balanced together on the far too small daybed that creaks beneath their shared weight.

“Love how strong you are,” Steve whispers as he kisses Billy’s temple, his hand brushing through golden locks. It’s almost impressive how sturdy his words seem when he’s an otherwise whining mess of ecstasy and blithe curses. “Love how good you feel inside of me, ah-”

Billy keeps his nose pressed against Steve’s neck, breathing in how appetising sweat and body-wash mixes. Every single word pushes him closer to the edge, makes his hips buck and dick pulsate.

“I’m close,” he murmurs between kisses.

“M-me too, oh fuck, please, harder,” it spills from delicious lips and into Billy’s ear.

And who is he not to oblige such obscene pleas. With his knees firmly planted on the cushions, and at a pace that will leave him sore tomorrow, Billy gives his most beloved all that he can, the blunt head of his cock near bullying that golden bundle of nerves buried deep inside of Steve, who in turn can only cry blissfully.

It doesn’t take long before he’s cumming loud and ruthlessly, covering them both in hot white, his entire body tensing up to a point where he’s ardently milking Billy’s cock for all it’s worth, as he cums shortly after with groans and thrusts that slaps so hard it leaves Steve’s cheeks red with abuse.

It’s a short moment filled with warm explosions like fireworks as he pumps his remaining energy deep inside of his boyfriend’s ass, hugging him dearly till there’s no other sound that their laboured breaths.

Moments pass before Steve’s the first one to speak,

“I’m gonna be so sore in an hour after this.”

“Promise I’ll kiss it better,” Billy chuckles out and kisses Steve’s shoulder.

“You better,” comes the response and they both laugh joyfully at that, because yes, Billy is absolutely going to make Steve feel all better again soon.

[twiceinadream]

Twice HC- How They Would Make Their S/O Feel Better After a Bad Day

Requested: Yup

Request: How they would make their s/o feel better after a bad day

a/u: Hey, guys! So I hope you all had a great new year and yay first post of 2021! I meant to go on a break but not posting makes me nervous so I wrote an HC for the first in over a year. I hope you guys like it, but my posts still might not be as frequent so I’m sorry about that. I love you guys!

Category: Fluff and Minor NSFW

Nayeon

Nayeon would immediately notice the far off look in your eyes the second she greeted you at the door

Your usual cheerfulness was replaced with something more solemn as your smile never reached your eyes

She would immediately go into “Mom Mode” as she sat you down on the couch, and went to make you a cup of hot cocoa

Ordering take out from your guy’s favorite restaurant while she cuddled with you on the couch

By night’s end, delivery boxes littered the coffee table as your body began to feel heavy in Nayeon’s hold, “Thanks Jagi.” She would smile as she placed a kiss on your forehead, “Anything for you, Y/N-ah.”

Jeongyeon (This is my favorite gif of her)

Jeongyeon tapped her foot against the cement as she checked her watch, you were late getting out of work. Which was strange since you always made a habit of not staying longer than you had to

Another five minutes passed before your disheveled form made its way out of the building, and your girlfriend immediately knew you had a bad day

You didn’t even need to say anything as she placed a kiss on your lips and began walking towards the park outside your work (coincidentally, the same park the two of you had your first date)

Jeongyeon would talk about practice and the rest of the girls to ease your mind off today, knowing she did her job when she saw the way your eyes lit up at the sight of your favorite ice cream stall

A bright smile eventually finding its way on your face as Jeong fed you small scoops of her ice cream. “You’re amazing Jeongie.” The sincerity in your voice made your girlfriend’s face scrunch up in “disgust”. “Sweet talker.” You chuckled at her words as you leaned into her. “Only for you.”

Momo (This is perfect because Boo’s actually in this)

Usually it was you who would be taking care of Momo when she had a bad day. But now that the roles were reversed, she was determined to make you feel as special as you made her feel

By the sound of your voice on the phone she knew today had been rough and she wanted to make it just a bit better once you got home

So she got set with making your favorite foods for dinner. Even sending you a cute photo of herself and Boo with the caption, “We can’t wait for you to come home!”

As soon as you opened the door you were hit by the different smells of the dishes Momo had made, your mood lifting slightly as the sound of paws and feet came at you as your girlfriend wrapped you in a hug and Boo circled around your feet

The Japanese girl leading you to the dining table that was scattered with all your favorite foods. A smile broke out onto your face as you felt your heart swell, bringing her in for a kiss as you hugged her tightly. “Thank you, Momoring.”

Sana (Penny for your thoughts -> What’s on your mind?)

From the way the door slammed when you came into the house, Sana could tell you were not exactly happy

Her frown deepened as you went straight for the fridge to grab a beer. It was worse than she thought, as she watched you fall back into the couch. A heavy sigh leaving your lips as you just sat there

Sana made her way next to you slowly as she noticed the way your eyebrows knitted together, “Penny for your thoughts?” You nodded, leaning into your girlfriend’s touch as she ran her fingers through your hair as you talked about your day

“Wow, I do feel better. Thanks Satang.” You whispered as you buried your face into the top of your girlfriend’s hair as she snuggled into you

“Anytime, Y/N-ah.” She whispered back, placing a kiss to the top of your hand that was intertwined with hers

Jihyo

Jihyo could sense the second you walked through the door your day had not gone well, if the fact you were missing a shoe and soaking wet didn’t give any hints

You took one look at your girlfriend before sliding down to a sitting position at the front door, hitting the back of your head as you groaned, “Never tell me, ‘You should try jogging, it’s fun!’ ever again.”

The brunette bit back a smile as she came to kneel in front of you, brushing away the hair from your eyes, “Y/N, what happened?”

You looked Jihyo in the eyes as you explained how a branch had almost fallen on you, which caused you to dive into a person’s front yard, when their sprinklers turned on and their dog came out and started chasing you, then just you thought you weren’t gonna get away you threw your shoe to distract it

Jihyo concealed her laughter with a cough as she wrapped you in a hug, “My poor baby. How could I ever make it up to you?” The teasing glint in her eyes wasn’t lost to you as you smirk. “Well, I can think of a few.”

Mina

Mina had noticed the far look in your eyes when you got home, but decided against prying when you offered to play a game with her on the new Switch you had gotten her for Christmas. An offer you rarely made which caused her to take it when she had it

Your girlfriend didn’t find it difficult to beat you, but after about the fifth time you loss Mina could see it was starting to become more personal than she thought

“Let’s take a break.” She offered, pausing the game so you would look at her. “No, it’s fine.” You insisted but Mina refused. “Something’s wrong Y/N. What happened today?”

You sighed as you revealed that the project you had been working on had fallen through and your months of hard work had pretty much gone down the drain. You sniffed hard, holding back your tears as Mina pulled you into a hug, “Oh, Y/N. You should have told me sooner, I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head, “It’s not your fault, my boss is just stupid.” Mina cupped your cheek, “The stupidest.” The Japanese girl’s words made a smile break out onto your face as you pressed a kiss to her lips.

Dahyun

Dahyun had noticed the somber look in your eyes when you had picked her up from work. Your smile replaced by a persistent frown as you pulled into the driveway

Before you could go any farther into the house Dahyun caught your wrist in her hand, “Tell me what’s wrong Y/N.” You were about to open your mouth to protest when Dahyun held a hand up, “Save it. Just come with me.”

You shrugged as you allowed your girlfriend to drag you into the living room. Before she sat you and herself down at the piano, not saying a word as she let her hands glide up and down the keys

Your eyes closed as you let the music move you, feeling your body lighten as your girlfriend concluded her concerto. “That was amazing Dahyun-ah.” A light blush colored her cheeks as she smiled, “Thanks Jagiya. My mom used to play it to me when I wasn’t feeling too good either.”

You let her words sink in as you pressed a kiss to her cheek, “You’re too good for me.” Dahyun shook her head, as she rested her head on your shoulder, “No, you just need to realize you’re worth a lot more to me than you’ll ever know.”

Chaeyoung (TW: Meantions of pet death, P/N -> Pet’s Name)

Your red eyes weren’t lost on Chaeyoung as you did your best to wipe away any stray tears that fell. The news of your family dog’s death had really hit you hard and she’d be lying if she said it hadn’t hurt her too

She had met your prized pup many times visiting your family and knew from the first few dates she had gone on with you, that your dog meant the world to you

So deciding that she was going to put what she did best to good use she went to work. Her nose buried in her sketchbook for most of the day as you left to pay your respects

It wasn’t until later that night did she see you again, a wrapped present on the table as she stayed latched to your side, “I’m so sorry about today Y/N, I know how much you loved P/N. And I made something for you.” She handed you the wrapped present, “Open it.”

You bit your lip as you pulled back the wrapping paper, gasping as you turned over the picture frame. It was a drawing of you and your dog in Chaeyoung’s style with the caption, ‘In our hearts forever.’ The sound of your tears hit the glass of the frame as you tackled your girlfriend in a hug, “I can’t thank you enough.” Chae smiled as she held you tight, “No need baby.”

Tzuyu

Tzuyu knew as soon as she had stepped into the apartment something was off. And her suspicions were only confirmed when she noticed your papers had been thrown in the trash

Following the sound of sobs to your office, pushing open the door to find you curled in on yourself in your desk chair. She quickly rushed to your side as she cupped your face, using her thumbs to brush away your tears, “Hey, Y/N. It’s okay, it’s me. I’m here. What happened?”

You sniffed hard, “I got passed up, I broke my back for the bastard and they passed up my promotion.” Tzuyu frowned, she knew how hard you had been working these past few weeks, “Oh, Y/N. God, I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

You couldn’t respond as your body continued to tremble so your girlfriend opted to just hold you. Whispering sweet nothings in your ear till your breathing finally evened out. Your eyes puffy from crying as you leaned into Tzuyu’s hold

“Thank you Tzu.” Your girlfriend smiled as she placed a kiss to your forehead, “No need. I’m sure if you ever want it, we’re always looking for new managers.”

[mymoonagedaydream]

Glitch (Part 2)

Summary: You assumed that the chances of you ever encountering the Winter Soldier again were less than one in a million

Pairing: Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Language

Author’s Note: Bit of a shorter one, been unusually busy lately but will hopefully be back on the writing grind soon

---

Three years later

The last few days had completely turned your world upside down.

SHIELD was compromised and Fury was gone, you felt as though the foundations of your life had been ripped out from underneath you. 

Plagued by uncontrollable anger and with nothing left to lose, you decided to fight alongside Steve without so much as second thought. Hydra had spread through your organisation like a cancer and there was no way in hell you were just gonna sit back and let it happen.

That’s how you found yourself in the backseat of a cramped car, squashed between Nat and fucking Sitwell. They were both engrossed in animated conversation with Steve and Sam, but you’d tuned them all out a while back. You just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Then everything changed.

Sitwell was wrenched through the window beside you, Steve slammed on the brakes and a heavy body tumbled over the bonnet, landing in the middle of the road. 

The sight of him made your heart stop, an inexplicable mixture of excitement and terror churning in your stomach.

You'd never told anyone about your previous encounter with the Winter Soldier. You’d never been able to make sense of it in your own head, never mind air it out for everyone else to analyse.

You hoped that now you might finally going to get some answers, but realistically you knew he'd probably just come back to finish what he'd started.

A second later, he was back above you, and the steering wheel had been torn clean out of the windscreen.

The four of you scattered. Nat pretty easily fell into the role of keeping your metal friend busy, while Steve and Sam were efficiently dealing with the other Hydra agents, so you took it upon yourself to clear out as many civilians as possible.

The public had this really irritating habit of always trying to move closer to the action, for some reason wanting to get a better view of the big, fuck-off guns randomly firing in every direction.

It was almost as if they relished being in the middle of an active warzone.

After emptying out the last busload of gawkers, you sprinted back towards the bridge, arriving just in time to see Tin Man lift Nat clean off the ground and hurl her straight into the side of a van.

Alright, maybe he had saved your life, but you certainly weren’t going to stand for that shit. 

This meant fucking war.

Keeping your footsteps silent and staying out of his line of vision, you carefully approached your target, somehow managing to take him by surprise and knock him face-first into the ground. 

By the time he rolled onto his back, you were standing astride him with your pistol aimed dead between his eyes.

‘Remember me, asshole?’

You thought you saw a glimmer of something in his eyes, some kind of vague recognition, but it was so fleeting that you couldn’t be sure you hadn’t imagined it. 

Even so, apparently it was more than enough to distract you from the rather pressing situation you were in.

He grabbed your wrist, knocking the gun from your hand and yanking you to the floor beside him. The two of you struggled against each other for a few seconds before he managed to straddle you and pin both your wrists to the ground.

‘You gonna finish the job this time?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ His eyes were locked with yours, words slightly muffled through his mask.

‘Bullshit.’

You hauled one of your legs up and drove it straight at his chest, knocking him backwards and giving you a brief opening to make a break for it. He was obviously far too strong to be bested hand-to-hand. 

You scrambled onto your feet but, in your panic, you ran straight into the path of a speeding SUV. Helplessly throwing your arms up in a feeble attempt to protect yourself, you squeezed your eyes closed and braced for impact. 

But the only thing that hit you was a roaring chorus of crumpling metal.

Then just silence.

You slowly let your eyelids flutter open. He was planted firmly in front of you, his back less than a few inches away from your chest, metal arm buried deep in the folded car wreck.

You were completely frozen, almost speechless in disbelief but just about able to push a single word out of your lips.

'Why?'

He didn't even turn to look at you before freeing his arm from wreckage and marching away. 

You knees started to shake and you eventually collapsed backwards onto the ground, all the time watching him gradually disappear into he distance, back into the chaos he’d created.

The rational part of your mind was sick with worry that maybe Hydra had some sinister, long-term plan for you, something that gave him incentive to keep you alive...

But every other part of you suspected that something else was going on.  

---

You gasped in a painful breath, choking on the water still sitting in your lungs.

The loud rumbling of the Potomac River filled your ears and, as your vision slowly cleared, you discovered that you were lying on the river bank.

Fragmented memories flooded back into your mind.

You remembered reaching the top of the helicarrier to find Steve in the fight of his life, and the bolt of fear that hit you when his attacker launched himself towards you, grabbed you by the throat and threw you against the glass.

But your clearest memory by far was the abject horror in Bucky’s eyes after you called him by his real name.

Steve had told you all about his best friend after the clash on the bridge, a conversation which had prompted you to finally confide in him about your previous encounter.

He was pleased, to say the least, at the thought that some part of his friend was still in there somewhere- even if it was just ‘the part that had an eye for the ladies’. He showed you some old photos of the two of them and talked your ear off all evening with stories of their childhood escapades.

Ever since, you’d been unwaveringly determined to help Steve bring his best friend back.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, trying to figure out how the hell you’d ended up here. 

The last thing you remembered was plunging from the helicarrier, turning and catching a glimpse of Steve’s battered and bloody face-

Oh god, Steve.

‘Steve?’ Your voice was strained and croaky. ‘Steve!’

You spotted him on the bank a few metres away, lying eerily still. Quickly scrambling to your feet, you stumbled towards him, dropping to your knees beside him and rolling him onto his side.

With one mighty whack between his shoulder blades, he took a gargled breath and water gushed out of his throat.

‘What happened?’

You helped him sit up, straining under the immense weight of his torso. ‘I don't know, we should definitely be dead.’

‘Bucky.’ He muttered under his breath before lumbering to his feet and yelling. ‘Bucky!’

‘You think he…?’

‘He must’ve, how else could we get up here?’

You let yourself sink back onto your heels, eyes straying over the cold, untamed water rushing past you. Your stomach twisted and your mouth fell open.

Three times. He’d saved your life three times. He could’ve so easily walked away on any of those occasions and left you for dead.

But you were still here.

Why?

‘Come on.’ Steve held his hand out, helping you onto your feet. ‘We need to get you warmed up.’

---

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