#staring at a screen all day gave me a bit of a headache | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

depressedhatakekakashi · 2 years

Text

How To Make Mochi: An Introductory Guide by Hatake Sakumo

Characters: Hatake Kakashi, Maito Gai, Hatake Sakumo

Words: 4879

For the Naruto Calendar by @naruto-calendar I was lucky enough to work with the amazing @animetrashmuffin who blew this task out of the water and left me scrambling to catch up, but I think I managed pretty well lol

Gai stood in front of him, proud and stubborn, one hand stretched out towards him and a finger pointing directly at his nose.

“If you’re not here for a challenge,” he narrowed his eyes, still refusing to believe that Kakashi didn’t want to participate in a challenge even though they had just finished their day at the academy, “then why are you here?”

Stamping down the urge to respond with his usual sass, Kakashi held up a flyer for the Tsukimi festival. “My father told me I could invite a… friend,” he explained, a little embarrassed to be admitting that he considered the overly energetic nuisance his friend. “The Tsukimi festival is tomorrow, and we have a really good spot at our house to view the moon from.”

Gai’s hand dropped to his side and his eyes bugged right out of his head. “You want me to go with you?” he asked. “As your friend?”

Turning his head away, Kakashi huffed. “Only if you want,” he grumbled under his breath. “We’re going to be making mochi and tsukimi dango at our place before the festival and I thought you might like to be there.”

His father made the best mochi for the Tsukimi festival. It was the only time he turned down missions, ensuring he had the time to sit down and make the savoury sweet with his son.

There was also the fact that the festival was guaranteed to have games that they could try out. Maybe, if Gai didn’t get on his nerves, he would agree to a competition involving one of those games.

Just one game, as a treat.

“Rival, I—”

“Just say yes or no,” Kakashi insisted. “You don’t have to come. I just thought you might enjoy it.”

Lunging forward, Gai wrapped his arms around Kakashi’s neck. “Yes!” he shouted right beside Kakashi’s ear, earning himself a hand shoving up against his face to push him away. “I would love to spend the day with you and your father, Rival!”

“Great.” Kakashi just had to remind himself that it could be worse. While Gai was over the top and a little painful on the ears, at least he was friendly. If he’d wanted to invite someone who would give him a real headache, he would have asked Obito.

A knock came on the door at precisely nine am, Gai’s cheerful voice chattering away behind the screen as Kakashi made his way from the kitchen.

“A whole day, Papa!” He cheered excitedly, causing Kakashi to roll his eyes. “And we can still meet tonight to see the moon together.”

Dai’s laughter rang in his ears. Just as loud as Gai’s, but with a bit of a deeper tone. It was a bit of a more relaxing sound if Kakashi was being honest. Almost like his own father’s laugh.

“Just focus on enjoying your day,” Dai spoke to his son softly. “Whether I see you tonight or tomorrow doesn’t matter as long as you’re having fun with your friend.”

Stopping directly in front of the door, Kakashi reached out and gently slid it open. Long, silver strands of hair fell in front of his left eye as he stared at the pair standing at his front door.

“You’re on time,” he noted.

Gai beamed. “I’m always on time.”

“Mmm.” Turning his attention to Gai’s papa, he tilted his head. “Father says you can join if you want.”

“I—oh!” Dai’s eyes lit up with excitement. “That is very sweet and I would love to, but I’m afraid I have a few missions to do today.” Patting his son on the shoulder, he stretched out a hand and gave Kakashi a thumbs up. “I will be sure to finish before the moon viewing tonight, though.”

“We’re going to view it from the backyard here.” Kakashi pointed towards the back of the house. “It has one of the best views in all of Konoha.”

“I’ll be here.” With that promise made, Dai glanced back down at Gai. “Have a good time, son. I’ll be expecting stories when we see each other again.”

Gai threw his hands up into the air. “I’ll have all of the stories for you!” he proclaimed. “And the day will be wonderful, right, Rival?”

He turned his eyes to Kakashi, excitement radiating off of him so strong that Kakashi was certain he was going to be overwhelmed by it.

“Sure,” he dismissed his friend with a bored tone. “Come on. Father already prepared everything.”

Beckoning Gai further into the house, Kakashi turned around and led him through the living room straight to the kitchen where his father was waiting for them. As soon as they stepped past the threshold into the kitchen they were both struck by a sweet aroma.

“What is that?” Gai asked as he lifted his nose a little higher into the air and sniffed. “It smells good.”

“Mochi filling,” Sakumo spoke up from his spot at the kitchen table, plates of ingredients set out all around him. “It’s a surprisingly sweet smell for what it is. The house will be smelling like it for the next week most likely.”

Rushing forward, Gai claimed one of the seats that Kakashi had set up beside his father, leaving the one directly beside his dad open for Kakashi to take. “Won’t the smell go away after a few hours?” he asked, inching in close for a good view while his father finished setting up.

“For most people, yes.” His father smiled Kakashi’s way. “A fun fact you might not know about our family though: we have quite an impressive sense of smell.”

Gai’s eyes shone with an expression of awe. “Really?”

“Mmhmm,” Sakumo confirmed. “For generations, the Hatake sense of smell has been getting stronger. There hasn’t been much research into it, though Tsunade once commented on it being because of how much time we spend with the hounds.”

Sliding into the chair between them, Kakashi groaned when Gai leaned a little too much into his space. “Is that true, Rival?” Gai asked. “Is your sense of smell really that strong?”

“Strong enough to smell the dango on your breath.”

“Kakashi,” his father bumped his elbow against his shoulder gently, “be nice.”

“I am being nice,” he argued. “It’s just a statement of fact. I can smell the dango on his breath.”

Honesty was rewarded with a disbelieving stare, but Kakashi didn’t allow it to bother him. It wasn’t his fault that his father thought everything he said was dripping with sarcasm and annoyance. That was just a result of his tone of voice. Something he couldn’t and didn’t want to change.

“I thought we were here to make mochi?” he commented, wishing to return to the task at hand rather than his inability to sound nice and cheerful like his father wanted. “Let’s focus on that instead.”

Silence enveloped the room for just a second. Just long enough for Kakashi to realize that neither his father nor Gai was saying anything. Before Kakashi could get used to the sweet sound of silence, though, it was shattered by the sound of laughter. Gai’s boisterous laughter mixed with his father’s more subtle chuckling. Two very different sounds that blended perfectly. At least, it sounded perfect to Kakashi’s ears.

“Kakashi,” his father attempted to cover his laughter with a hand, but it did little to silence the sound, “I’m sorry. I—”

“You’re so serious, Rival.” Gai was laughing so hard that he almost fell backwards off of his chair, only being saved from crashing when Kakashi reached out and grabbed his arm to support him.

“Serious?” He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was confused.

Were the two of them laughing at him because he wanted to keep making mochi? Was his insistence on continuing what they had planned to do so hilarious to them?

“Sorry.” His dad’s laughter settled into a chuckle. “You’re just so cute when you get like that.”

“When I get like what?” he asked, ignoring the fact that his father had just referred to him as ‘cute’ in front of his friend.

“Well…” His father paused to think. “Sometimes when you speak it’s very…blunt.”

His eyes narrowed. “Am I supposed to lie?”

“No, that’s not what I’m trying to say,” Sakumo chuckled. “It’s just that not everyone understands.”

“That sounds like a problem for them, not me.”

The two of them threw their heads back, their laughter ringing out even louder than before. Finally having enough of it, he reached towards his father and flicked him square in the forehead.

“Ow.” A hand came up and rubbed the offending area. “What was that for?”

“Making fun of me.”

“I wasn’t—” His father cut himself off when Kakashi narrowed his eyes. “I just thought it was cute.”

“I’m not cute.” Kakashi crossed his arms over his chest. Beside him Gai continued to snicker, only saving himself from receiving a scolding of his own when he placed a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. “Can we just make the mochi, please?”

“Right.” Ignoring the poorly suppressed laugh that escaped his father’s mouth, Kakashi straightened himself up and stared at the empty spot that had been cleared for rolling the mochi. “Are you two paying attention?”

“Yes,” Kakashi grumbled under his breath.

“Yosh!” Gai followed up as he pumped a fist into the air.

“Good.” His father reached towards the bag of cornstarch he had set off to the side and came back with a small handful of the ingredient. “First, we need to prepare the area.” He dusted the table with cornstarch, covering just a small section of the table directly in front of himself. “This will keep the mochi from sticking to the table.”

Both Kakashi and Gai leaned forward, fighting a little for a good vantage point to see just what Sakumo was doing. Every move his father made Kakashi took down, stashing it away in his memory banks for use later when it was his turn to make a ball of mochi. Behind him, Gai reached out towards the dusted surface, only to have his hand smacked away by Kakashi.

“Ow, Rival,” he whimpered, rubbing the wounded area while staring at Kakashi with sad eyes. “I just wanted to see.”

“You can see with your eyes,” Kakashi reminded him. “Besides, Father said we’d get to try to make mochi after he showed us how. You should pay attention.”

“Kakashi.” His father’s tone cut through him like a kunai. With the perfect amount of disappointment in his tone, he successfully made Kakashi feel terrible for his choice to smack Gai’s hand. “Apologize.”

“I’m sorry for smacking your hand,” Kakashi grumbled, immediately regretting his decision to listen to his father when Gai lunged forward to hug him.

“Your passion for today’s lesson is admirable, Rival!” Gai declared so loud that Kakashi could feel his ears ringing. “While my hand may have stung for a moment, I could never hold it against you when all you were doing was trying to learn something important to you.”

With every word he said, Gai hugged him a bit tighter, slowly squeezing the very breath out of his lungs until Kakashi was forced to look back at his father for help. Unfortunately for him, the older man seemed to be enjoying the scene too much to register that his son was struggling to breathe at that very moment.

“I knew you would make friends one day,” Sakumo chuckled as he took one more small handful of cornstarch and filled in a few spots that had been missed in the initial sprinkle. “Now, if you’re done hugging the life out of my son I can continue.”

Gai released his hold on Kakashi immediately and sat back a little, a hint of red tinting his cheeks as he watched Kakashi suck in a deep, burning breath into his deprived lungs. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t realize I was hurting you, Rival.”

Giving himself a moment to catch his breath, Kakashi found a newfound appreciation for the ability to breathe. He’d never realized just how much he would miss something that happened so naturally until this moment.

He’d have to be more careful about Gai’s hugs in the future.

“Mochi? Please?” he requested, noting the slight burning sensation that lingered in his throat. “You can focus all of that energy on our next spar. Maybe you’ll actually win.”

Though, he doubted that. Gai still had a long way to go before he reached his level.

“If it would help,” his dad piped up, “we could talk about something else while I show you. Kakashi’s a visual learner so interrupting his line of sight can result in him getting rather annoyed.”

“Talk about something else?” Gai asked. “Like what?”

“Well…” Leaning his head back, Sakumo stared up at the ceiling as he sorted through the options in his head. “It is the Tsukimi festival tonight,” he offered, turning his head to look at the two boys at his side. “Is there anything regarding that you’d like to talk about?”

Slapping his hands down on Kakashi’s shoulders, Gai lifted himself a little over him and grinned. “The story of the Rabbit,” he requested with far too much enthusiasm for Kakashi’s liking. “Papa always tells me the story of the Rabbit on the moon every year!”

Kakashi refrained from knocking Gai off of him and opted instead to simply roll his eyes when his father began to laugh.

“The rabbit on the moon, hmmm?” Sakumo leaned his head back just a bit, making a show of thinking it over. “That is a rather interesting story, but I think I might have a better one.”

Gai’s fingers dug into his shoulders, earning him a light jab in the stomach. “Oof, Rival what— oh, sorry.” He retracted his hand, releasing Kakashi from the painful grip. Settling back at Kakashi’s side he grinned when the young Hatake scooched over just a bit so he could see what Sakumo was doing.

“Well, you know about the Rabbit on the moon, but has your Papa ever told you the story of how the Rabbit came to live up there?”

Kakashi was certain that if his friend’s eyes got any wider they would fall right out of his head. “Dad, stop teasing him,” he scoffed. “There’re no rabbits on the moon.”

“Oh,” Sakumo tilted his head, “I’m sorry, I forgot I was speaking to the expert. When did you learn to fly to the moon again?”

Keeping his mouth shut was the only option Kakashi had. No matter what he said next, his father had won and all of them knew it. Even Gai was snickering behind his hand, enjoying a rare moment where Kakashi had lost an argument.

Worst of all, he’d lost to sass. A trait that people often attributed to him, even when he wasn’t trying to be sassy, all while forgetting that he had to get it from one of his parents. That parent just so happened to be his mother, according to what little information he got about her from his father, but living with two people who were ‘full of sass’ had rubbed off on the older Hatake.

Satisfied with Kakashi’s failure to come up with an appropriate response, Sakumo returned his attention to the table. “Now, where was I?” he asked, grabbing another ball of red bean paste and beginning the process of making his second ball of mochi.

Uninterested in the story, Kakashi focused his full attention back on his father’s hands and allowed Gai to lean over his back. “You were going to tell us a story,” Gai answered. “About how the rabbit ended up living on the moon.”

“Right.” Kakashi stared at his hands. Entranced by every move his hands made from placing the red bean paste into the centre of the dough, to the way his fingers would carefully pinch the dough shut around the filling. “Well, one day the man on the moon decided that he was lonely—”

“Man on the moon?” Gai placed his hands on Kakashi’s shoulders. “There was a man on the moon?”

“Hardly,” Kakashi scoffed, earning himself a glare from his father. “What? It’s just a fable.”

“To you,” Sakumo sighed. “Other people like hearing this story.”

“That doesn’t make it real.”

“It has to be real,” Gai insisted, shoving his hands down harder into Kakashi’s shoulders. “A man on the moon with a rabbit. That sounds like the most amazing thing ever, how can it not be real?”

“It’s even better than that,” Sakumo continued, sparing a quick glare for Kakashi when he opened his mouth to protest. “As I was saying, the man on the moon decided one day that he was lonely and took a trip down to earth to find a companion. He wanted to find the nicest animal in the entire world to take back to the moon with him.”

“The nicest animal in the world?” Kakashi perked up, suddenly more interested in the story his father was telling than the mochi he was making. “That’s easy. Dogs.”

“Well—”

“No!” Gai protested, shoving his hands down harder until Kakashi disappeared from his spot, leaving on a log in his place. With nothing to hold onto anymore, Gai went crashing over the chair.

“Dogs are the nicest animals in the world,” Kakashi insisted, peering down at Gai from his new spot atop the kitchen counter. “There’s not an animal in the world that’s nicer than dogs.”

“I think you’ll find dogs are loyal,” Sakumo argued as he placed his half-completed ball of mochi down on the table and reached out to help Gai back to his feet. “They’re nice of course. If you’re their human.”

“Pakkun is nice to everyone.”

“I think you’re only seeing his good qualities.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Now recovered from his little tumble, Gai turned towards Kakashi and stamped his feet. “The nicest animal in the world is a tortoise!”

“Now boys—” Sakumo tried to call out to them but was promptly ignored when Kakashi jumped off of the counter and landed directly in front of Gai.

“Dogs,” Kakashi argued.

“Tortoises,” Gai fired back.

Seeing a lost cause in front of him, Sakumo stepped forward and gently placed a hand over each of their chests, pushing them back just enough so he could step between them. “I thought I was telling a story?”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Kakashi huffed. “Dogs are the nicest animal ever,” he grumbled under his breath. “Everyone knows this.”

“I think you’re looking at this issue with a little bit of bias,” Sakumo chuckled when he glared up at him. “It’s alright. We all have our favourite animals. It only makes sense that we would want to vouch for them in a situation like this.”

“Tortoises are also nice,” Gai beamed. His enthusiasm never wavered, even when he was in the middle of an argument. “They’re always so gentle and sweet when I visit them near the lake and they’re so happy to see me holding some lettuce.”

Happy tortoises.

Kakashi was certain that his friend was making things up. There was no way a tortoise could express happiness in a way humans would understand, even if they could experience such emotion. They weren’t like ninken after all.

They couldn’t speak to Gai.

“Well, I think both of those options are very good for the award of ‘Kindest animal in the world’.” Sakumo smiled down at them. “But this story is about a different animal, and I’d like to finish telling you about it.”

Peering around his father’s body, Kakashi sighed when he saw Gai smiling at him. It seemed like the other boy never stopped smiling, no matter what was going on around him. The two of them could argue worse than the one they just did, and he was sure Gai would still be smiling at the end of it.

“Tortoises are pretty cool,” he grumbled, grunting when Gai lunged around his father and wrapped his arms around his neck. Thankfully, this time, his friend restrained himself enough to avoid choking the life out of him.

“Dogs are also very cool,” Gai giggled. “And Pakkun is the nicest dog I’ve ever met.”

Patting his friend on the back, Kakashi glanced back over at the table. Everything was still sitting out, waiting for them to return to their spots and continue where they had left off.

“Anyways,” he waited for Gai to release his hold on him and then took a step back and looked up at his father, “keep telling your story, dad.”

Sakumo simply stood there staring down at him, a tired look on his face. “One of these days.” He shook his head and sighed as he stepped past the boys and took his seat at the table again. “One day you will just apologize without being asked.”

Kakashi wasn’t so convinced. Apologizing seemed ridiculous when all he had done was defend the honour of all dogs against a story that would paint any other animal as nicer than them, and a friend who was determined to do the same as him but for tortoises.

“Can you continue the story?” Gai asked as he burst past Kakashi and reclaimed his spot at the table. “The man came down to earth to find the nicest animal in the world. What animal was it?”

“Well,” Sakumo glanced over Gai at him, “the man dressed himself up as a beggar and explored the world searching for that animal, stopping when he came upon three animals sitting together. A monkey, fox and rabbit.”

While Gai listened intently, Kakashi made his way over to the table and took his spot once more. As soon as he was comfortable he focused his full attention back on his father’s hands as they gathered up the mochi he’d been working on so diligently before Gai and Kakashi’s argument.

“Now, the man had a very simple request for the three animals.” Sakumo pinched the mochi, closing the dough around the ball of red bean paste. “He told them that he was very hungry, and asked if there was anything they had that he could eat.” Once he was finished pinching the dough he carefully rolled it between his palms a few times, smoothing it out into a ball. “The fox ran off towards the river and returned with some fish, while the monkey jumped into the trees and collected some fruits to share. Both of them presented the beggar with the food that they had gathered, but the Rabbit had nothing to give except for the grass under their feet.”

“Bleh.” Gai scrunched up his face in disgust. “Grass isn’t a good meal.”

“How would you know?” Kakashi asked, concerned enough about his friend’s apparent eating habits that he dragged his eyes away from the newly formed mochi and looked over his shoulder at Gai. “But it’s the rabbit on the moon, right?”

Thinking about it, Gai nodded. “It is,” he agreed. “So that means that the rabbit had to have something to offer the man from the moon.”

Kakashi’s father chuckled. “You two are correct,” he confirmed. “Realizing that he didn’t have much to offer, the rabbit asked the beggar to build a fire. Once the man had done as he was asked, the rabbit jumped into the flames and offered himself up as a meal.”

Gai gasped. “But…why would he do that?”

“It was the only food the rabbit had to offer,” Kakashi whispered. “Even at the cost of its own life.”

Sakumo grinned. “That’s right. The man was so amazed by the rabbit’s generosity that he transformed back into his usual form and rescued the rabbit from the fire. He took him to the moon to live with him, To reward him for his generosity”

“But…” Gai bit his lip.

Kakashi wasn’t sure how, but he felt like he understood what was weighing on Gai’s mind. Perhaps because he had a similar question dancing around in his head. Something about the story just didn’t make any sense.

“Why not all of them?” he blurted out.

Sakumo raised an eyebrow. “All of them?”

“Well, all three of the animals were exceptionally kind,” he explained. “The fox and the monkey didn’t ignore the beggar’s request for food. They both got him something to eat.”

“The rabbit offered itself out of kindness,” Gai whispered. “But wasn’t it also a little desperate? It didn’t have fruits to give like the monkey, and it’s not skilled at fishing like the fox.”

A smile stretched across his father’s lips. “You know, I’ve heard that story a lot in my life and I don’t think anyone has ever asked that question before.” His hands continued to work, picking out another ball of dough and pressing it into the counter with his palm. “You make a valid point. The fox and monkey were kind. That kindness deserves to be recognized.” Choosing a ball of red bean paste, he placed it in the centre of the dough and began pinching the edges together until it was sealed shut.

“That’s right.” Gai laid a hand on Kakashi’s shoulder. “Every act of kindness is important. That’s what my Papa always says. It doesn’t matter how little you can help, just that you help when you can.”

“That’s a good rule to live by.” Smoothing out the ball between his palms, he placed it in the dish with the other completed mochi and picked up another dough ball. “I think the man on the moon made the right choice.”

“Maybe,” Gai whispered while Kakashi’s father picked up another dough ball and squished it against the counter. “I still think a tortoise would have been a better choice.”

“Dogs,” Kakashi whispered under his breath, not wanting to start another fight with Gai but determined to make sure his opinion was heard. “Dogs are man’s best friend. How could someone choose a rabbit over a dog?”

“And that is your opinion to have,” Sakumo chuckled. “But I like the story the way it is, personally.”

A rabbit on the moon. In a world full of amazing animals it seemed silly to Kakashi that anyone would choose to bring a rabbit to the moon for companionship. If they were looking for a friend, wouldn’t a human be better, or a dog?

Thinking about it, he turned his head and stared at Gai without saying a thing. His mind worked over the question of who he would take if it was him. Who or what he would want to spend the rest of his time with if there was no one else to keep him company?

“I— is there something on my face?” Gai asked as he reached up and ran a hand over his chin, wiping away an imaginary spot.

“No,” Kakashi sighed when a realization hit him. “I was just thinking.”

Gai grinned, wide and brilliant. The same smile he always had on his face whenever he saw Kakashi. “You’re always thinking, Rival. That’s part of why you’re so cool!”

Reaching a hand over his shoulder, Kakashi poked his friend in the forehead. “You’re cool too,” he stated, a little annoyed that Gai got to hear it far less than he did. “Dorky and over the top, but that’s nothing new to me.”

After all, he had the dorkiest dad in all of Konoha. If he could survive being raised by a man who panicked whenever Kakashi sassed someone, or if someone even questioned his parenting style, then he could happily tolerate having a bit of extra dorkiness in his life.

“Kakashi—”

Sensing a conversation he did not want to have, Kakashi pointed down at the table. “There are still a lot of mochis to make,” he reminded his friend. “And we still haven’t had a chance to try and make some ourselves.”

“Of course!” Gai threw an arm up into the air and cheered. “Just watch Rival. I’ll make the most beautiful ball of mochi you have ever seen. Even better than yours!”

Better than his, Kakashi could accept. This would only be his first chance at trying to make mochi and diligently watching his father do it didn’t guarantee he’d get it right the first time. Even if it did look easy.

The most beautiful ball of mochi ever, though, Kakashi couldn’t bring himself to believe. No one in the world could make mochi as beautiful as the one’s sitting on the table in front of them. It just wasn’t possible and he refused to believe that Gai would be able to do it. If he said that, though, his father would get upset with him.

He never liked it when Kakashi was unnecessarily harsh, even if what he was saying was true. So, rather than telling Gai the truth, he just shrugged his shoulders instead. “As long as we have enough for all of us to eat, right, Dad?”

Sakumo threw his head back and laughed.

“We’ll make enough for the entire village,” Gai declared as he draped his arms over Kakashi’s shoulders and hugged him from behind. “And it’ll be the best mochi they have ever had. You’ll see.”

That Kakashi wouldn’t argue with.

#Naruto Calendar #Hatake Kakashi #Maito Gai #Hatake Sakumo #Tsukimi Festival

18 notes · View notes

danganronpasurvivoraskblog · 1 year

Note

Rpg Anon: Mod, this is in regards to Junko having Nyarlathotep as her Persona. I just want you to evaluate this strange scenario. Let me just ask you this one question: If Junko had Almighty godlike powers and for some reason she HAS to give you a healthy Valentine's Day gift out of good will, would she do this? This question will somewhat determine whether I give her this Persona.

You meet Junko in a hallway and you two actually have a cute wholesome conversation about how much she actually cares about you. She gives you a bag with her gift for you and tells you to open it later. And then, there's a long silence. And then, Junko's eyes turn red and she looks at the screen, breaking the fourth wall, and tells the player that if they want to keep this wholesome and sweet, they should press the Skip Dialogue button. More silence. Junko smiles happily and says there's no going back now. Screen goes black.

You wake up at midnight in the open public. Your heads hurts a lot. The street is empty; no one in sight. You feel compelled to walk around. You keep walking around. There's still no sight of anyone at all. In fact, you hear nothing but silence and feel all the lifeless-ness everywhere you go. Your headache gets worse and worse and you start to go hungry. Eventually you arrive at a desolate desert and collapse. You start losing memories, craving flesh, and whatnot. At that moment, Junko appears and tell you that all life in the world is gone. Time itself has stopped at December 31, 11:59 pm and 59 seconds. There's nothing left but a cold empty world for you, Junko, and that random giant shadowy creature in the sky. As she rests your head on her lap and you stare into the sky, you see a giant shadowy 3 flaming eyed silhouette creature. Eternally staring at you. You try to scream and yell but your body no longer works and the last bits of your sanity start to fade. The last things before all sanity is gone completely that you hear and see are Junko staring at you like you're a pathetic insect and her laughing happily.

The scene then cuts to the real you that recently received a gift from Junko looking at a snow globe where all that took place. Junko also gave you a note saying she would have loved to have done that to the real world but she and Nyarlathotep love humanity too much (cuz they both like seeing people climb high for their goals, fail miserably, and then fall into despair), so she merely created a miniature alternate universe inside a snow globe and gave it to you. Happy Valentine's Day from Junko Enoshima.

So mod, crazy story I know, but I ask again, would Junko fucking do this?

(I got this from FGO)

//Yes...

//Yes she would...

//I don't even have to think about that.

//At least, that's sort of how Junko COULD be if she had a Persona in my canon.

-Mod

#mod

2 notes · View notes

lilianslibrary · 5 months

Text

Little Wolf and Laconism

Confessions to a Void AU

Hello. Below are some excerpts from a longer story I've been working on alongside Confessions to a Void. It is part of a wider plan to write an alternate setting for the characters of the series where their issues are bit more tame. The AU stories will be released in full upon Confession to a Void's conclusion. I won't put a timeline to my plan because I don't force myself to write.

Little Wolf and Laconism is a story from the perspective of the newest character of Confessions to a Void, the Silent One, who has the name River in the alternate setting. River has some tendencies typical of Autism Spectrum Disorder which makes his life a bit more difficult in school. River's experiences are loosely based on my own.

Recess

I was not very skilled at recognizing emotions in others when I was young. Despite that, I always noticed the way my classmates looked at me. It was akin to how a wolf might eye a lamb from afar, warded off by a shepherding dog. Like if the circumstances were different, they might be inclined to savage me. Though I certainly did not use this expression in my young age, that was the impression I had then, as I stared at the others whilst they played. When they noticed, they glared in response. I turned to the teacher, who had just returned, bringing a box full of toys to the small table at which I sat. With a flat tone I had asked “Why do the others hate me?”

The teacher glanced down for a second, her face twisted into what I can only now recognize as a grimace. When she looked back up, her face had changed. “They don’t hate you, little one. God just made you a little different from them. I’m sure that if you give them time they’ll come around,” she said in a sweet tone. I was not convinced, but I knew she was unlikely to expound further.

It was like that every day. The other children would go to the slides, finding the other members of their cliques and enjoying whichever game they had decided to play that day. In the early days of the school year I tried to join. The others complained I ruined their games or failed to understand their jokes. I tried to understand. I laughed when the others laughed, but I had not understood the rules, nor their humor. Did that disqualify me from joining the rest of the children? To them, the answer was yes.

On days when it rained, the teacher would keep all the children inside so they did not ruin the classroom with mud. The others brought dolls and action figures. I did not have toys like that at home. Instead, I sat in front of the classroom computer and wrote stories. At first, this was done under the watchful eye of the teacher. That attention shrank over time as she realized my intentions were harmless. For the first years of elementary school, even when the weather was permissible for play, I mostly stayed inside during recess so I had the chance to write more. The administrators found that very interesting.

There, I stared at the screen, tapping my fingers repeatedly against the desk while rereading part of my story.

“There was a dragon on a mountain that slept by the quiet lake. The people in the town below wanted to kill the dragon because she stole cows and sheep and goats and took them up the mountain. They picked up their swords and spears, not thinking that the dragon needed to eat too.”

Lunch

When I was allowed to eat, lunch was one of the most tolerable parts of the school day, even if the noise gave me a headache. The food was not great necessarily, especially in retrospect, but there was something about sitting at tables and desks for hours on end that made me hungry. The workers in the school cafeteria would grab a tray and place each food from the pyramid in a different square. It was clean and organized. I had wished my father would allow me to use one at home, but he refused because he did not want to have separate dishes just for myself. I preferred school lunch in that way. At home I had to pick around my plate, avoiding the parts of my food that touched each other.

Some of the same children that had ostracized me from their social groups eventually began to demand tribute of me. Initially their demands came with offers. “Give me your crispito and we’ll let you play with us tomorrow.” When my lack of interest was made apparent they turned to other methods of coercion. The three encircled me and made sure I understood this was nonnegotiable. The threats were surprising at first, and then they made me scared. The fear was subsumed by the mundane nature of it all as their theft grew more frequent. I was left hungry, but I knew if I went to an adult the young extortionists might be inclined to make my school experience more miserable.

Heart to Heart

It was time for recess. I assumed my place in front of the computer screen and watched the other children as they filed out one by one, compressed into an orderly line by the teacher. One remained behind, sitting on the carpet by the cabinets. I knew his name because he was one of the boys who took food from me at lunch.

“I see you staring at me, nerd,” Lowell remarked. I was not at all taken aback. This was typical Lowell behavior. Out of curiosity I decided to indulge in a conversation with the boy.

“Why are you inside?” I whispered. The other boy sneered and turned away.

“Like I’d tell you.”

I knew how to get what I wanted from people under certain circumstances. All children like a set group of items or activities, I thought. The teacher was still busy with the children outside, now was my chance to figure out why Lowell had invaded my private space. I entered a website I myself rarely visited, but knew from others. Lowell noticed quickly and I immediately caught his full attention.

“Are you playing Cool Math Games?” he asked.

“If you tell me why you’re here, I’ll let you play.”

#short story #creative writing #short stories #asd #autism spectrum disorder #Confessions to a Void

0 notes

bippot · 9 months

Text

Doppel

Story Summary -> Working with his wife usually comes easy to Spencer but when a woman identical to her is found dead, it becomes a little bit harder to deal with. Especially when she's determined to find the guy by whatever means she has at her disposal.

Tags -> Married Couple, Fluff and Smut, Kidnapping, Serial Killers, Canon-Typical Violence, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, Brief weight gain mention, Pregnancy, Reader is a Member of the BAU (Criminal Minds), Protectiveness, Angst with a Happy Ending

Would you prefer to read this on AO3? Click here!

In all her time of knowing him, Y/N had never seen Spencer be rageful. He was annoyed by small minded cops constantly. Any case that had anything to do with kids caused everyone to be on edge. And he had a sore spot whenever schizophrenia came up in conversation.

He was kind and gentle and frequently had a smile on his face whenever she needed a friendly face, but Y/N knew that deep down, there was a sadness lurking in his soul. He was a lonely man at his core so she tried her very best to make sure she always was there to listen whenever he wanted to rant and tell her facts and vomit word soup out in the open.

Sure, the fact that he was cute was a factor in Y/N's interest in her coworker's words. But it was his genuine need to use that big ol' brain of his to help other people out that really captured her attention. He had a big heart to go along with his big brain, that's why he was so special.

And why she fell in love with him.

"Sorry, one of the officers cornered me and forced me to endure a way too long conversation about bitcoin and now your coffee is getting cold," Y/N announced as she placed Spencer's drink on the desk in front of him. He immediately pulled his focus away from the papers he'd been staring at and shifted it to his wife, causing his entire being to go from slouching down in his chair to perking up in attention.

"How did you get away?" he asked her with a gleam in his eye.

Y/N sat down on the edge of the desk and shrugged. "His shift ended," she answered with a chuckle, taking a sip from her coffee and holding back a wince at how bitter it was.

Whilst she was making it, she had been faced with a decision - use up all the remaining sugar on Spencer's cup so he has it the way he likes or share the sugar between them both and have the one coffee she allowed herself to indulge in per day to taste better. Luckily, he didn't see her distaste for her coffee, or if did, he didn't mention it.

But she did notice when he made a face that she'd seen far too many times. His brows furrowed and crinkled his forehead. Y/N's hand brushed the back of his shoulder tenderly. "Migraine?"

"Just a headache right now."

"Do you want me to go get you anything?"

"No, no, I'm okay," he waved her off. "I'll be fine."

Bullshit. She knew him well enough to know that he was in more distress than he wanted to admit. She jumped off the desk, gave him a scratch right on the crown of his head, and moved to find her bag, rifling through it until she found what she was looking for with a satisfied, "Ah-ha!" Whatever Y/N had found was being shoved in Spencer's direction. He took it without looking, knowing exactly what it was from the crinkle and soft jingling sound that accompanied it, and popped the magnesium out of the packet and tipped a vitamin B gummy from the pot.

"Thank you, honey."

"It's my job to make sure my husband's brain doesn't explode," Y/N told him as he threw the gummy in his mouth. "You're welcome."

"I certainly am," Spencer replied with a cheeky grin, before taking a large gulp of his coffee. His wife rolled her eyes but couldn't resist smiling back.

By the time Y/N had finished her coffee, Hotch was calling for everyone to gather because there had been bodies found. The squad listened as Garcia gave them the update. Four bodies had been found, all of whom had very similar features. As he was watching the photos of the dead women pop up on the screen, Spencer's hand made it to his wife's back, curling her shirt into his fist. Y/N didn't seem to react. Not even when all of the team had looked at her as soon as they realised too.

The victim they'd deduced had been the first of this serial killer was a doppelganger of Y/N. The others looked similar but the first was almost identical to her. Same hair colour, same nose, same eyes, same smirk. There were a few obvious differences due to styling and body weight distribution but they could be sisters. Twins even. Well, at least Y/N knew what she'd look like after being strangled to death and dumped in a mass grave in the middle of nowhere. She never had wanted to know that. Now she did.

Whatever morbid curiosity she had, it had never got that detailed. Hotch knew that Y/N would be able to deal with this. However, he had no idea if Spencer would be. Judging by Reid's clenched jaw and the mortified look in his eyes, he wasn't dealing with being presented with an image of someone who looked like his wife dead in a ditch very well.

"I'll point out the elephant in the room," Y/N began before anyone could say it out loud. She gestured in the general direction of her face. "We could use this to our advantage."

Yeah, she'd been a decoy before and was prepared to do so again. Her situation was slightly different now though.

Spencer's head whipped up. A thousand million zillion alarm bells went off in his head, which was not very pleasant mixed with his headache. "Y/N..." he warned, his voice low and shaky.

"It's an option. That's all I'm saying."

"We'll try a more traditional approach at first, but it may be beneficial for us to keep Y/N out of the public eye just in case we need to go down that route," Hotch stated, which was met with some relief. Not much. Some. He turned fully towards Spencer. "Is that agreeable?"

Humming his agreement - though it didn't sound all that enthusiastic - Spencer was mostly quiet during their discussion about the unsub. The usual points were hit. The unsub is anti-social. He won’t look anyone in the eye. He’s not confident. He's a white male in the 30-45 range. He probably doesn't like his mummy. Spencer spoke up when he thought he had new insight that nobody else had brought up yet, but as soon as Hotch told everyone to get some sleep for the night, Spencer got the hell out of there.

Derek sighed. "Want me to cool him down?" He offered, bumping her in the shoulder with his own. Y/N shook her head and gave him a bump back.

"I will power through the silent treatment,"she told him, and he gave her a few seconds to change her mind before chuckling and stepping away.

Back in their hotel room, Spencer was in the shower when Y/N got back. He'd had a five minute head start and was not wasting that precious time, it seemed.

Officially, the FBI booked two rooms for the married couple as agents have their own rooms instead of sharing most of the time - unless the hotel is fully booked or they're in a romance novel and need to huddle for warmth - so whenever the squad touch down in a new city and settle in, there's a guarantee that one of the Reid's rooms are abandoned. It was a waste of company money.

Working together whilst married had been a weird thing in the beginning. There was a review of how effective Y/N and Reid were by the unit chief when they first declared themselves as a couple to HR, and then another conducted after their wedding. It was decided that there weren't any glaring problems with the two working together - they weren't half as flirty as Morgan and Garcia so maybe that helped them out a bit - so they were allowed to stay in the same unit. That report had said that Agent L/N's reckless nature often conflicted with Dr Reid's anxiousness. Which had been true enough. Sometimes those traits worked well together. Other times...

A pin drop could be heard as the couple got ready for bed. Y/N climbed into her side of the bed and Spencer into his. The room was dark and quiet, and in that silence, Spencer could hear the sound of his heart and that drum beat of terror, and it was almost as loud as a thunderstorm. Could she hear it too? Or was he just afraid that she could?.Both sat with their backs against the headboard, Y/N read her book quietly while Spencer stared into space and tried his best to ignore his wife. The silence stretched on and on, until finally, Spencer felt a hand on the back of his head and fingers softly stroking through his hair. He let out a sigh of relief.

Instantly, the drum in his head stopped. He pressed himself into her side, morphing his body to fit the contours of hers, and - without losing her spot on the page - she let her head tip downwards to give him a kiss on the crown of his head. It was a soft, brief peck and Spencer felt himself yearn for more. "Pay attention to me?" He whined.

An amused huff came from her nose and she placed her book on the bedside table so both hands were free to lavish him with so much petting and loving caresses that he began purring like a cat in no time.

"Better?"

"Much," he said, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of her warm fingers tracing patterns along his temples, his nose, his cheekbones. Her fingers moved to his chin and tilted it so she could give him a smooch, and Spencer thought he would melt at the pure sweetness of her lips on his.

"I love you," he said, and it felt so natural to say it. It felt so right.

"I know," she replied, sounding just as serious. "I love you too."

Spencer felt a shift in the atmosphere as the tension that had been there evaporated, leaving them to cuddle together and enjoy the rest of the night in each other's arms. Though the issue hadn't been solved, that was okay right now. They'd deal with that tomorrow or whenever it had to be dealt with. Not right now. Not before bed. They'd never gone to bed angry at each other and they weren't going to start today.

Despite seeing her dead doppelganger, Y/N fell asleep pretty quickly. Her husband was so warm at her side and the hotel pillow was so fluffy and comfortable that she was out like a light in no time. Spencer lay awake for a long time, his eyes staring at the ceiling, his thoughts racing as he traced a line from one of her hips to the other and back again over and over again, feeling the pouch of her stomach with the very tip of his finger, and his chest was tight with worry.

He didn't know why his mind kept going back to that photograph. Why would his brain choose to relive that? Did he want to torture himself that badly? Maybe if he stayed awake he would be able to protect her from anyone who even thought about hurting her. He'd catch this killer if it was the last thing he ever did.

"I can hear you thinking." His wife's sleepy voice interrupted his thoughts and Spencer let out a small groan. How long he'd been unravelling in his own brain, he had no idea, yet it was long enough for the hoarseness that she usually got after a nap to enter her voice. "Go to sleep, baby," she said. "You're going to be exhausted tomorrow."

"Can't."

"You can."

Y/N pulled his body so that he was fully on top of her and wrapped her arms around him. Spencer felt her start to move her hand up and down his spine in a gentle rhythm and her other hand cupped the back of his head, holding him close as she slowly rocked them side to side. She began to hum a tune, cradling him almost like he was a 6'2" big baby, and let him relax in her arms. It worked. It always did. Within minutes, he was snoring into her shoulder. He did that thing that men do when they suddenly spasm for no apparent reason because their body can't believe it's finally getting some down time, but eventually it evened out.

Once the early morning arrived, Y/N was beginning to stir. She awoke to the soft gentle presses of her husband's lips against the skin of her stomach, his head lifting up the bottom of her sleep shirt to plant a kiss on her belly. For the past month or so, she'd often woken up to him mumbling a hushed conversation to her abdomen. She'd pretended not to hear it and let him continue for as long as he wanted to, thoroughly enjoying his affection and the way it would send a shiver of pleasure straight through her body. And today was no different.

Only when it became clear that he wasn't planning on getting up anytime soon did she begin to move and acknowledge the fact that she was actually awake and aware. Massaging his shoulders, she cooed, "Morning handsome," and he mumbled something unintelligible as he buried his face in her stomach again, his stubble tickling the sensitive skin there.

Reid was not a morning person. Not in the slightest. Y/N had learned very early on that the best way to force him to get up in the morning was to get herself up and he would mimic her. It usually worked like a charm. But this morning, he'd trapped her legs beneath his body and was keeping her hips pinned to the mattress with his. This man was heavy. He was gangly and lanky and looked like a twig but could feel like a tonne of bricks when he wanted to. And he was trying to keep her pinned down, which meant he wanted something.

"Let me up, you big brute," she teased as she wriggled her hips to try to get away from him. Spencer laughed at her attempt and she gave up the moment his big hands landed on her hips to keep them still. He lifted his head up, the smile on his face making his eyes crinkle.

"Morning beautiful."

"I take it you're not ready to get up for work just yet?" He shook his head as he ran his hand up and down her waist, keeping his eyes on hers. "You know we'll have to eventually, right?"

"I do. I also know I'm going to have to be pretty convincing to get you to stay." He pressed a kiss to her navel. "But."

One more kiss placed just under the previous one on her abdomen. "I am."

Another on her pelvis. "Willing."

Two more, one on each thigh, his palms pushing her legs apart to give him more space to settle in the gap. "To. Be."

Finally, he let his lips fall to her underwear-covered pubic bone in the barest whisper of a kiss, one that set off a small firestorm of desire that shot straight to her core. "Very, very convincing."

At the beginning of their relationship, they'd come up with the rule that they wouldn't give in to their desire whilst on the job. When they first got together, that was mostly a way to make them seem as unsuspecting as possible. Their coworkers were profilers for god sake! Even the slightest smudge of her lipstick on the corner of his mouth and Derek would be giving Spencer a patronising clap on the back and a "My man."

Now it was out in the open, it was mainly a professional courtesy. It would look awful if two FBI agents comforted a grieving family with mussed hair and incorrectly buttoned shirts. There were exceptions, though. And why not? They had plenty of time before they were expected to show up at work. They were in the privacy of their hotel room with the nearest member of their team (Emily) six rooms away. The rule could be morphed into a suggestion, and it's easier to ignore suggestions.

"Can I convince you?" He let his lips curl upwards at the corners as he gave her a kiss over her underwear with an exaggerated 'mwah'. He added on a desperate sigh of "Please?" to seal the deal.

"You can try."

"Well then, lie back and enjoy yourself, Mrs Reid," he responded cheekily, pulling her underwear down her thighs and off in the general direction of her suitcase that sat by the dresser.

With that, he got to it. He started by licking and nipping at the inside of her thighs, making sure to get up higher with each bite until his lips touched her clit and he flicked it with his tongue. Her head fell back as she arched into his mouth, giving him better access to do whatever the hell he wanted to her. His hands cupped her butt, keeping her pressed up against his mouth as he worked her into a frenzy.

"Mrs Reid, you are so beautiful."

Her eyes fluttered shut as she let herself go. The pressure of his mouth, his hands, his stubble. Her man could make her come in no time at all. The more he gave her, the more she wanted. And the more she wanted, the more he gave her. It was a lovely cycle that gave them both what they wanted.

The slow slide of his fingers moved under her shirt and up to her bare breasts. He teased her nipples into hard points, his touch sure and demanding, and just was needed to make her moan out his name. "Spencer, oh god, Spence."

Thanks to one particularly forceful suck on her clit, Y/N was grabbing at Spencer's curls, trying to hold him to her while he drove her towards the edge. But it wasn't enough just yet.

"Fingers too, baby."

"Where are your manners, honey?"

"Jesus fucking christ, are you serious?" She huffed and had planned to fully argue some more but gave up almost immediately. "Fine! Please finger me, my loving husband."

"That is more like it."

He kept his eyes locked on hers as he used two fingers to part her folds and slip them inside of her. She was wet and ready for him, and he made quick work of finding her G-spot, mumbling a little "Ah, there it is," when she got a smidge louder. He curled his fingers at the same pace as his tongue swirled around her clit. It was a rough and slow rhythm that made her writhe and squirm.

"Can feel these legs shaking. You close, pretty girl? You want me to keep going, don't you?"

"Uh-huh, keep going."

"Tell me. Say it. Say it all pretty like you always do."

So, she did. Her voice was all breathy and whiny as she got out the words he wanted to hear. "You're so good, gonna cum, gonna cum. So good to me."

Y/N felt her orgasm catch up with her, her muscles tensing up as she was taken over by the wave of pleasure. It swept over her in seconds, stealing her breath and leaving her weak in the knees. She dug her nails into Spencer's shoulders, curling her toes into the bed to keep herself grounded as she felt the aftershocks ripple through her.

"Good job, baby," she praised, grinning down at him. "What's next on the agenda this morning?"

Spencer's smile was so goofy - looking as if he drunk off the taste of her, and maybe he was - as he moved himself back up the bed to kiss her neck, his grin making it impossible for the kisses to be anything but a press of teeth against soft skin. He kissed up and up and up until he reached her ear, whispering, "I’m not done with you yet, honey. If you ask me nicely, I'll fuck you so good," against the shell.

Whenever Spencer swore, it was always surprising to her. And when he swore like that, it sounded more dirty than if a frequently swearing man had done it. As if his mouth was filled with those words but had been pushing them down and down - they'd been sitting there for a while, just brewing - and in the wait, had grown a mind of their own.

"C'mon, Spence, get your cock out and put it in me already. I wanna feel you, please?" she asked, exaggerating the 'please' so he couldn't call her rude again.

"Yeah, you want more?" he teased, squeezing her ass in his big palm.

"Damn right, I do."

"I'll get right to it then, my pretty baby."

As he nuzzled his face into her neck, kissing the skin there, let her head fall back on the pillow, let out a giggle when he bit at her jaw and pushed his head away, laughing even harder when he tried to playfully bite her fingers.

"Weirdo."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But you're married to me so that makes you Mrs Weirdo by default. You signed yourself up for all this, honey."

Tugging his boxers down, she gave him a light a slap on the ass, the sound of smack loud in the quiet of the room. "Married you just for the marital tax deduction," she joked, but she couldn't help but mischievously grin so he absolutely knew she was just messing around. Obviously she told him that she loved him lots yet he still struggled to comprehend that some days. So, she made sure whenever she teased him that he was fully aware that she didn't mean it.

"And I married you because I love you," he responded, far more sincerely than she had thought he would've.

Spencer collapsed on top of her, every muscle in his body tingling. "That was..." he couldn't even believe it. "So good. I'm not sure I'll ever top that." He laughed, a full-body, carefree sound that was the best thing she'd ever heard. Y/N laughed, too, watching as he rolled off of her and onto his back, his hair falling in a ruffled, sexy mess around his face. It was impossible to resist running her fingers through his hair, the feeling of his thick, curly locks against her hand so comforting, so calming.

"We should shower."

"I thought you wanted to quit our jobs and stay in bed forever?" Y/N parroted his words back to him, rolling onto her side to face him.

"We smell of sex." He got out of bed and held his hands out to his wife to help her to her feet. "Come on, stinky."

By the time they were showered and dressed, none of their coworkers would know how Spencer had made her go briefly brain dead that very morning.

This case wasn't solved on their first visit. The unsub had either been tipped off or was closely following the investigation and went dormant for enough time that Hotch moved them on, which wasn't an unusual thing to happen. It was annoying, though.

There was some guy out there whose perfect victim was Y/N. Even as they got on with their lives and solved other cases, that fact remained in the back of Spencer's head. He couldn't forget it - mostly because he doesn't forget anything - but he knew that if he hadn't been born with this gift, that it would be the same. With this guy still out in the world, Y/N was in danger every time she went out in public. It was hard to breathe while he was thinking about that.

Two months later, the unsub killed again and the team was brought back. This time Spencer was determined to find him.

The same officer who'd lectured her about bitcoin once again cornered Y/N, but this time, she had her husband by her side. Previously, he'd been a little pushy but once Y/N had told him that she was in a relationship, he backed off. Now, he greeted her with, "I remember you being slimmer."

What? Did he think that was an acceptable way to say hello?

"Funny, I have an eidetic memory - that means I remember just about anything I deem important - and I don't remember you. Weird," Spencer shot back, his tone icy.

Instantly, the officer's jaw dropped. "I, um, I just - "

"We've been on the jet for the past few hours, mind giving us some space?" Spencer suggested and the officer flushed a bright red, backing off immediately. Y/N caught Spencer's eye and gave him a quick squeeze on the bicep to say thanks, and was rewarded with a wink that was far too flirty for a work environment.

Garcia gave them another rundown of the case, briefly going over what they had before and adding the new revelations at the end. The killer had fucked up. The most recent victim had bite marks on her shoulder so they had a very good insight at what the killer's teeth looked like. Whoever he was, he was missing his top canines and if they were to look into his mouth, there would be an obvious gap.

Part way through Garcia's rundown Spencer very subtly reached into his pocket, pulled out a granola bar and slid it towards his wife. She ate it with a smug little smile on her face.

"That's new," Emily pointed out. "There was no bite mark at the last crime scene."

"Biting as a form of attack is usually used as an act of self defence," Derek added.

Hotch let out a gruff noise, one that was toneless and no indicator of whether he thought that was a correct assumption or not. He had a talent for that - bland, unemotional responses that encourages more discussion without leaning the conversation one way or the other.

"That would only make sense if the marks were inflicted perimortem or pre-mortem, but judging by the lack of redness and blood splatter around the puncture of the skin, this bite was done post mortem," Spencer explained, gesturing with the tip of his pen at the area around the teeth marks.

"This guy has escalated to biting his victim's after he's killed them, why?" Y/N posed the question once she'd finished chewing and the room was silent for a second before Rossi spoke up.

"A killer I interviewed back in the early 90's did the same thing. For him, he believed he was absorbing the life essences from his victims, he was consuming what little of them remained when he bit them."

Emily let out a bitter scoff. "Even after taking their lives, it's still not enough for this guy. He needs to annihilate what's left of their soul."

"Maybe he thinks he's collecting souls for the afterlife like how Zodiac believed his victim's would become his slaves once he passed on?" Y/N thought out loud and the room went still, all of them thinking it simultaneously.

"Whatever the case, the guy is a freak," Derek stated, and they all nodded in agreement because yeah. He was a freak.

Just before they'd gone off into their own research teams, Hotch called put, "Y/N, would you mind holding back a few minutes? I need to speak with you," and although she knew she hadn't done anything to warrant a stern talking to, it still felt like being sent to the principal's office.

"I'll catch up with you in a sec, Spence."

Closing the door once Spencer was on the other side, Hotch sighed. "I know what your answer will be but I feel obligated to ask, do you want to give this one a miss?"

Y/N looked over at him and the corners of her mouth turned up just a little. "You think I'm going soft, Aaron?" She teased, and he grinned at her.

"I know Reid's been giving you an earful."

"He always does."

Something that sounded like a chuckle came from Hotch's throat but it died before it could fully form as his eyes caught the opened case file on the desk, the photo of Y/N's dead doppelganger paperclipped in the corner of the page. "And if we run out of options?"

"As long as you can guarantee that I can blame everything on you so Spencer doesn't stay mad at me for the next year, I'm still up for being a decoy," she clarified. "We've got to catch this guy."

"I will take the blame."

"You better."

Eventually, they found everything about the guy. Garcia cross referenced this with that and then that with this to find out the guy's name was Leyton Hart, his father died when he was young and his mother was an addict who he was still living with despite the fact he was raised mostly by his next door neighbour, a young girl that was only a few years older than him. This neighbour, who they became aware was once called Isla Wiley, was the first victim. She was Y/N's doppelganger.

Infuriatingly, the only thing they couldn't find was where the hell he was now. He wasn't at home, nor at the smart car customer help desk he worked at. They checked his credit cards, they tried calling his cell, they checked with his boss and his mum, nothing.

"You think he's left the area?" Derek asked.

"It's not impossible," Emily replied. "He went dormant for months once we'd caught his scent, he may be prepared to do it again."

Spencer began, "If we could draw him out -" and stopped as soon as his brain caught up with his mouth. He cleared his throat. "Ignore that."

Rossi could see the silent conversation Y/N and Hotch were having and decided that he'd be the bad guy in this scenario to save both of them from doing it. "No, that could work, Reid. And we have an asset to do so," David announced, readying himself for whatever was about to happen to happen.

"Y/N is not an asset, she is a person! And we can't risk a member of our team in the hopes of catching this guy! Her being on this case is risky enough as it is!"

Reid's chest was rising and falling faster as he tried to keep his temper in check. His vision was getting more red by the second. His fingers were drumming against the table. The blood was rushing to his ears. He felt sick.

"We are not risking my wife's safety to catch this guy!"

Y/N rested her hand over Spencer's, her middle finger tracing over his wedding ring. "This could be our best shot," she said quietly, and he knew at that exact moment that the subject had been brought up with her beforehand and she hadn't mentioned it to him.

He felt sicker than he'd ever felt in his life.

"I don't care!"

"Spencer," Y/N said sternly, her tone made it very clear she was warning him to stop and think about this before he said something he couldn't take back. She squeezed his fingers gently, her thumb rubbing along his knuckles before he whipped his hand away.

"God, I can't believe you're putting this before everything else."

"We could save a bunch more women. Think of the families, Spencer. We have a chance to give them some peace."

"What about my family? Do you really think I'm going to just -" He was shaking his head as he spoke, trying his best to find a way to reason with her, to convince her to stop. He knew he was failing. And because he was failing, he decided to take himself out of the situation before he said something drastic and lost his job. "You know what, good luck, honey. I'll be waiting for you if you come home."

And he walked out of the conference room, slamming the door behind him. Y/N rubbed at her eyes, taking a few deep breaths and letting out a groan. "Well, that went spectacularly," she mumbled, then rubbed her neck as she looked over at Hotch. "Sorry about that."

"He'll come around," Morgan said.

Prentiss agreed. "Eventually."

"If I had to guess, putting this bozo behind bars will speed that process up." Rossi reached across the desk and patted Y/N affectionately on the hand. "Trust me, I've been married enough times by now to know."

Raising an eyebrow, Hotch posed the question 'Are you still on board with this?' with just his face and only confirmed, "Let's start planning," when she nodded.

While the squad figured out the details, Y/N went in search of her husband. They may have differing opinions on what should go down but she still wanted to comfort him and make sure he was okay. She found him in the back seat of their hire car outside eating a sandwich, taking big aggressive bites, and staring off into the parking lot bush in front of the windscreen. He didn't even look up when he heard her open the door and sit in the seat on the other side of the car. He chewed, swallowed, and kept on looking.

Wordlessly, she slid across to the middle seat and let her head fall onto his shoulder. He didn't move, just kept on chewing, his Adam's apple bobbing as it swallowed the last of his food. After a while, he sighed and leaned back in the seat, resting his head on the headrest as he closed his eyes.

"I know you're worried, baby," she said softly, stroking his arm to get a little more of his attention. "But I can do it, and I will. I don't need you to protect me but I'm very touched that you did. Thank you for looking out for me."

"You're welcome," he replied bitterly. "I'd say you're all set to go then, yeah?"

"Babe..."

She smiled sadly, cradling his head in her palm. He'd been through a lot in his life, she knew that. She'd been there for a lot of it. A lot had gone on back when they were just pals. And even more had happened now they were something different. Going off the basis of his experiences, his concern was fully warranted.

"I'm so selfish. I care about you and I love you and I don't want anyone to touch a hair on your head. This guy... this guy shouldn't get to breathe the same air you do after what he's done." He opened his eyes and finally focused on her, the light of the setting sun illuminating his face in such a way that it made him look like a sad angel. "I can't lose you too, baby."

"If I don't, more women will die."

"If you die, my entire world ends," he choked out, his entire face contorted with misery. "It would be like the sun went out. As if I was a pontifex and my Goddess had been suddenly ripped from my hands, and there was nothing I could do about it."

Obviously, she couldn't guarantee her survival. They both knew that. Y/N closed her eyes and held her breath, trying not to cry as she felt him grip on her jacket, digging his fingers into her elbow as if to anchor her there. She couldn't bring herself to say anything though. She could hear the anguish in his voice, the horror of it, and it was all her fault for being born with the face she had.

The hand on her elbow moved down to find her hip as he pulled her closer into him, resting on her stomach when he was satisfied with the lack of space between them. She rested her head against his shoulder and let herself feel his pain.

"We'll get him," she whispered. "We'll catch this bastard. And we'll get through this."

Tilting her chin up, she caught his lips with hers in a gentle kiss and held on for just a moment before pulling back. "You had a club sandwich," she pointed out playfully, tasting what was left on his lips and feeling her smile broaden. "Making me kinda hungry."

"Let's go get you some lunch."

Before she had comprehended what he said, he was getting out and moving into the driver's seat. They left to get some food - getting in an order for what everyone else on the team wanted whilst they were there - and smoothed out their emotional spikes to settle into a more stable state to prepare for later on.

Then later came. Y/N had been dressed up in an outfit similar to one that Isla had been photographed in - a stripy shirt, denim dungaree and espadrilles - and told to phone the customer service desk for the smart car they'd given her for breakdown help. Once Leyton Hart, who'd managed to reroute the calls that were supposed to go to his work computer to his personal cell, had confirmed that he was on his way to the secluded patch of road Y/N had 'broken down' at, it was a waiting game.

Most of the team were not that far away, around 30 yards behind a thicket of trees. Far enough away to not be seen if he wasn't looking too hard and close enough that they'd be able to make it to help Y/N out in a minute if she needed it.

Sitting in the car, Y/N listened to the hum of the radio and let her legs dangle off the seat and out into the opened door, swinging them to the beat until Penelope warned her, "Incoming!" through comms and she stopped immediately. Y/N could feel him coming, sense him even though she couldn't see him just yet. "Here we go," Penny told the others, keeping her voice low and her eyes glued on the road ahead as his pickup truck came into view.

There was no mistaking the man in the truck. Y/N's gut twisted and she tasted bile in the back of her throat at the sight of him as he got out of the truck and strode towards her. She painted a smile on her face, greeting him with a friendly, "Hi, you are a lifesaver! This stupid car just -"

Before she could finish her sentence, he did something they never predicted he'd do and whacked her in the temple with a ratchet wrench. Y/N's body went limp and she slumped into Leyton's waiting arms as her vision went dark.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!" was all Spencer could manage to get out of his mouth as he ran forward to reach her before she was placed in the back of the truck. Hotch raced after him and managed to tackle him to the grass before Leyton noticed them, which would compromise Y/N even further.

Spencer's worst fears were becoming a reality. A serial killer just drove off with the love of his life and his boss had prevented him from intervening.

However much time later, Y/N winced herself awake and looked blearily around. She had no idea how long she'd been out, but she knew for sure she was not in a good situation. She had a throbbing headache and her neck was sore from being arched over for what felt like hours. And she was on a very dirty and gross floor with one hand cuffed to a radiator. It was dark, which she thought was probably for the best for her headache, and cold. She was shivering as she tried to blink the blurriness out of her eyes and get her bearings.

For now, she was alone.

There was no telling how long she'd been out for. Minutes? Hours? A couple of them? It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that she was alive and that she had to get out of here..Grimacing against the pain, she rolled onto her side and pushed herself to a sitting position. The world tilted a bit and she grabbed the edge of the nearest wall to steady herself. The cuffs cut into her wrists and her ankles were getting achy. Overall, it wasn't a great time.

Then, the sound of a key in a lock and the door to the warehouse creaked open, light from the outside glinting dully off the metal floor. "Hello Isla," a deep voice said. "Didn't expect you to be awake."

Going along with this fantasy of his would probably be best. That would give the team time to find them. If there was one thing Penelope was good at was finding a needle in a haystack and, by the look of her surroundings, they were a small needle.

Wherever she was, it was so basic that nothing really stuck out. There was only the radiator she was attached to, a sturdy looking wooden chair, and a cardboard box with a children's book on the top. No windows, concrete floor, metal door, and an industrial overhead lamp that Leyton switched on with a flick of his wrist.

"I knew you'd come back to me," Leyton said, a gleam in his eye. "I knew you would if I gathered enough souls to bargain. You said we could watch cartoons when you came back, can we watch cartoons?"

"Of course we can," Y/N said with a grin. She struggled to ignore the aching in her neck and the twinge in her arms and legs as she spoke. "We can watch whatever you want to watch."

"Whatever?"

"Yeah. Whatever."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

Leyton smiled, leaned his head in closer to hers, and whispered, "I'm so glad you're back." Y/N shivered and pushed away the sudden urge to puke, not only because his breath wasn't the best but this creep was so close to her face she could see his spit in his mouth. "You know, you're not going to leave me ever again, right?

"I wouldn't dream of it," she said softly.

Like a child, he jumped up and down on the spot. They'd classified this guy as an organised killer, a sophisticated guy that plans his kills and chooses his moments. But his current demeanour had proven otherwise. This guy was someone who had been stunted socially as a young teen and desperately needed this kind of affection and approval. Maybe he'd devolved.

"I'm sorry I hit you. I didn't want to."

"You did what you had to. I understand that," she lied. "You were protecting me."

"Yes! I was! I'm so glad you can see that now!"

Y/N coughed, hiding the way her face fell by itching her cheek with her shoulder as soon as he looked away from her. As soon as he heard her cough, all of a sudden, he scrambled onto the floor and plonked his head down in her lap. "There, there, Isla," he said, stroking her thigh. "I'm sorry for what I did. I'm so sorry."

Having a serial killer cuddle up to you was weird, to say the least.

"I f-forgive you," she stuttered, before looking down at him with shining eyes and hesitantly reaching her free hand towards his hair. His eyes widened and he leaned further into her hand as he waited for her to touch him. Her fingertips brushed against his thick hair as she caressed the top of his head.

They stayed in that position for more time than Y/N would care to admit.

There was a pang of something in her chest as she watched him nuzzle into her hand and close his eyes as if in bliss. She didn't have time to really feel any sort of pity for Leyton since the metal door suddenly burst open and Spencer came into view, his gun out in front of him.

"Step away," Spencer hissed as he came to a stop in front of her. His face was furious as he cocked his head to the side. "Keep your hands off her."

"But she's mine," Leyton said, a look of innocent bewilderment on his face that soon changed to mindless fury as he pulled himself free of her lap and charged at this random guy pointing a gun at him.

Instead of shooting the killer, Spencer chucked his weapon to the ground and swung at the guy, his fist connecting with Leyton's cheek and then getting another blow to his stomach as he doubled over. Spencer landed punch after punch after punch on the killer's face and body, and Leyton got a few good jabs in before he dropped like a sack of potatoes, blood gushing from his nose and mouth. Yet, Spencer still wasn't done. He was vicious. It was cruel.

And it was the most spiteful thing she'd ever see her husband do.

Derek rushed into the room with Emily hot on his heels. Morgan got Reid by the waist and yanked him away from the fight just as he got another shot in. He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and backed away from Leyton, who was coughing and spitting up blood onto the concrete floor. Spencer gave a look of disgust as he stepped away from the twitching Leyton and came to a stop in front of Y/N. His chest heaved as he wiped his bloody nose on his sleeve, slumping to sit in front of her as he dropped to the ground.

"Hi honey," he said, leaning in and touching the bump on her forehead with his index finger. "You're bleeding."

"So are you."

"That was... that was..." He shook his head, not knowing how to describe the fight.

"It was," she replied. "I'm glad you won."

"Me too."

As Derek cuffed Leyton Hart, Emily was searching around for the keys to let Y/N out of her cuffs. The moment she was free, Y/N flung herself into her husband's arms and buried her face in his neck, breathing in his scent and listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. She pulled away and looked into his eyes. "You didn't sleep," she commented, seeing the heavy bags under his eyes and noticing how strong the scent of coffee emanating from him was. He always smelt a little like coffee but this was, BANG, right in your face and kind of overwhelming.

"Couldn't."

The floor was a thick layer of grime and old blood covering it so Y/N guided Spencer to stand and pushed him out of the door. In the heat of the moment, he seemed to be fine with all the germs but once his adrenaline depleted itself, he would get very agitated about it. She knew that for certain.

Soon enough, Hotch sorted everything out and after a quick trip to the medic, the couple were allowed to retreat to their hotel room to clean up and rest. On her way past her boss, Hotch stopped her to ask if she was okay, how many days off would she like and, "Who knew Dr Reid could be that - what's the word? - defensive?"

"Leyton Hart put his wife and child on the line, that's a lot to defend, I guess."

"Get some rest, L/N."

"Aye aye, captain."

They got to the hotel room in no time, both in desperate need for a reprieve from other people.

"I'm sorry," Spencer said, his breath hitching as he spoke. "About everything. I just... I couldn't control myself. I don't know what happened."

"This is totally fucked up for me to say but you looked hot - totally scary and intense and, honestly, I could go through my life and be happy if I never saw that side of you again - but, yeah, kinda sexy," Y/N admitted, bending over to start the taps on the bath tub.

"Oh. I, uh, I don't know how to compartmentalise that."

"That's okay. I don't either."

After having a preliminary shower to get most of the dirt off before Y/N got in the bath, she sunk into the warm water, leaning her head back against the tile wall as she closed her eyes and let the stress of the day wash over her. She tried not to disturb Spencer who had decided that it was now his turn to take a shower. He would be scrubbing himself with antibacterial soap for the next few minutes so she could just lay back and listen to the odd sounds her husband would make every now and then as he scoured every inch of his skin with his silicone bath brush that he brought with them wherever they went.

If he was on a deserted island - first off: sand, ew - and he could bring one thing, he'd probably bring that brush. ...Or a flare gun.

When he was done, he wrapped a towel around his waist and knelt on the tiles next to the bathtub, looking at her as she lay there, soaking in the water.

"You okay?"

"Mm-hmm."

"You sure?"

"Yep."

"We need to talk about this, you know?" he retorted, running his hand down the length of her arm and conjoining their hands. He perched his chin on the porcelain. "Did he hurt you?"

"No."

"Did he do anything that might've hurt the baby?"

"Not that I know of. We should make an appointment just to make sure."

Her thumb rubbed against his knuckles, hoping to ease some of the redness from his skin. "Let me kiss it all better, baby," she murmured, letting her lips fall to his bicep. Then to his forearm. The wrist. The palm. Then she turned his hand over so she could press gentle kisses to his busted knuckles. His fingers were long and slender and looked too delicate to hurt - or cause such damage - but they had, and now they were all busted up.

The few punches Leyton managed to get on him were mostly to the face. He had a black eye on the right and a red jaw on the other. Y/N was quick to cover those areas with love. Spencer watched her attentively, a million emotions and reactions dancing across his face as he tried to reconcile all the things he was feeling. But, for now, all he could do was accept whatever affection she thought he was worth.

He leaned forward and gently kissed her, tasting the faintest hint of blood on her lips, then he kissed her again, and again, and again, until she was drowning in the taste of him and had to break apart for a moment to breathe. When they finally came up for air, Y/N guided her husband's head to rest in the crook of her neck and shoulder, kissing his temple and running her fingers through his hair. They stayed like that, embracing in the bathroom, until the water grew cold and they moved their embrace to the couch.

Spencer pulled Y/N onto his lap, her knees digging into the crevice between couch cushions on either side of Spencer's hips as she settled in. He started by moving his hands up and down her back but couldn't resist the paternal urge to focus his attention on her stomach. His thumbs caressed the underside of her belly, sliding across the stretch of her bump.

For now, she'd been able to hide her pregnancy with baggier clothes but it was soon going to become apparent what was happening.

"I may have let it slip about little Reid to Hotch."

"Well, you're beginning to show and you've been very vocal about how hungry you always are in the office... I assume he already knew," Spencer reassured him, lightly trailing kisses down the side of Y/N's neck and pausing at her collarbone. "I'm sure he knew before we figured it out."

"I'm sure he did.”

She tilted his chin so he had to look into her eyes, smiling when he did so. "It's going to be okay, you know," she continued, eyes bright. "You're going to be a great dad, and we'll get through this." Spencer didn't respond but his eyes were so bright and full of love that she knew he heard her.

Y/N smiled wider, her eyes fluttering shut as she leaned in and pressed her lips to her husband's. It was a long, slow, tender kiss that said everything it needed to.

*Click here for my Spencer Reid masterlist, or here for the entire masterlist*

Wanna be added to a taglist? Either comment on this post or send me a message!

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid

346 notes · View notes

hidesinhisarchived · 2 years

Text

The last six months of Mark’s life had been incredibly hectic while preparing for his newest documentary series. Several months of headache-inducing negotiations and scrambling to find crew who were willing to live in LA’s infamous ‘murder house’ had left the filmmaker exhausted and ready to quit before even stepping foot inside the place. By the end, he’d gotten so tired of hearing people whine about ghosts this and curses that that he was about ready to pull his own hair out by the fist full. But, he’d pulled through it and put together an excellent crew that were eager to prove themselves. They were a bit young and inexperienced, but had potential and he honestly couldn’t afford to be picky at this point.

It was finally all over and they were in the house. Mark had been in awe of the place from the absolute second that he’d taken his first step inside, practically drooling over how the light shone through the stained glass windows. This was the kind of place that he’d often dreamed of buying when he was younger and making it into an artists’ haven for his friends and loved ones. Something elegant and classic, filled to the brim with history and so many stories.

He’d been so taken with it all, in fact, that he’d immediately dropped his stuff in the master bedroom and grabbed his still camera. He’d spent a good couple of hours photographing every part of the place that caught his attention and had even captured a couple of places from several different angles until he’d been satisfied. His crew had given him weird looks, but no one had said anything. After all, who was going to question the great Mr. Proof Positive himself? They took the job knowing that he had a reputation for being a bit eccentric at times. Perhaps that had even been part of the appeal.

A few days in and a new problem came to light: neither Mark nor the production company had thought to hire a stager. Mark had several talents outside of the filmmaking and the writing, but interior decorating wasn’t one of them. Hell, he was still stinging over Maureen and Joanne making fun of him for how he decorated his own home and that had been three years ago. As a result, he’d gotten his assistant Lexie to call around to see if she could find someone willing to work with them.

It’d taken a week, but eventually Lexie had struck paydirt. She tossed a piece of paper with a name scribbled on it at him as he sat at the kitchen counter, squinting slightly at his laptop as he read over the history of the Montgomerys. “His name is Chad. He’ll be by sometime today to check the place out and talk to you about the job.”

The filmmaker frowned as he tried to make sense of what she said. “Who? What job?”

Lexie sighed, used to this by now. She knew that when Mark got heavily fixated on something, it took him a couple of seconds to come back to planet earth when interrupted. “The interior decorator. Stager. Whatever the hell it’s called. I had to go through the realtor that sold the place to the production company, but she said that she got up with someone who agreed. The details that she gave me are on the paper. I hope you don’t mind, but I gotta go early. I promised my mom that I’d take her out to dinner tonight.”

“Aw, you sure you don’t wanna stay? Maybe move in? It’ll save you a commute.” Mark grinned at her, chuckling as she shuddered.

“Absolutely not! Being in this place is creepy enough for a few hours a day. I can’t see how you can actually stand to live here. Ugh.” She shook her head, nose wrinkling as she grabbed her bag. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mark. Oh! I filled your prescription for you and left the bag on your nightstand. Take care of yourself.” And with a final wave, she was gone.

Still lightly chuckling, he went back to his research. Mark wasn’t sure how long he’d stared at the computer screen, reading about the Montgomerys’ history and the history of their home, only stopping to take the occasional note. The sound of the doorbell startled him, making him jump and sending his heart skittering in his chest. He sighed at himself, taking a deep breath before sliding out of his chair and heading for the front door. The others were out for the day, exploring LA and seeing the sights before things got too busy and they weren’t able to, so it was just him in the house at the moment.

The filmmaker opened the door and was almost immediately taken in by the pair of large brown eyes that he found himself staring in. They were expressive and bright and attached to an incredibly handsome face. Oh no. It’d been a long time since Mark had been this instantly taken by someone’s looks, to the point where his heart practically skipped a beat in his chest. Which, at his age and condition, probably wasn’t a good thing. Shit.

He cleared his throat, offering a smile at the stranger. “Oh! Hello! You, uh, you must be the decorator. Chad, right?” Mark stepped to the side to allow him entrance into the house. “Come in! I’m Mark, Mark Cohen. I’m the one running all of this and trying to put this whole thing together. What all were you told about this job?”

@applesdrowned gets a starter!

#applesdrowned #⧾ ⊹ * ﹆╰ 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 ╯// v. ahs murder house .

1 note · View note

rosiewritesstuff · 2 years

Note

Yo! your blog rocks and i see it's only beginning, so im throwing in a request if you can do it ill be on cloud 9. im a Gladio fan so if i can get a fluffy one with him that be swell. like the big man offering flowers to reader from time to time before asking her out. thx XXX

No Name

Part 1/4

Gladiolus x Fem!Kingsglaive!Reader

DESCRIPTION: You are a tired Glaive with a thin patience for dating, noise, and crowded spaces-- After just getting your heart broken once again, you decide to sail alone in the sea of singleness. However, when being caught filtering in and out of a high security area where you do not belong, you find yourself in a pickle that is too hard to explain… and the problem itself has pretty amber eyes and rippling pectorals.

Authors Note: Hello Anon! I am so sorry this took FOREVER for me to write. (And when I mean forever— I mean FOREVER) I am sure you moved on by now and left this fandom in your rear view mirror, but I will never leave a request unfulfilled— even if it becomes dusty within my request box. But I hope I can make up for the lengthy time gap by giving you a huge story in return. This is probably the longest fic I have written and published ever in my life! I hope I did your request justice, as well as Gladio! Enjoy!

With all this being said, I am now getting to the other request in my inbox! I am so sorry for the wait everyone. Just know I am doing my best to fulfill your requests! For the time being, lets bring on the Gladio love!! -Rosie

Warning: story does contain swearing. Read at your own risk. (Slow burn)

Like it and wish to continue? Here is Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

The morning after a rough, emotionally tolling evening, always held a bit of a sting. When you woke, it was almost like you had forgotten everything that had occurred. Your eyes groggily drank in the cracked pattern of plaster on your ceiling, before trudging down to the split within your curtains. Sunlight fought to stream through the thick fabric, and managed only a bit, giving a small beam of golden light to your bedroom. You sighed, arm falling limply over your eyes in hopes to filter out the small victory the sun had against your curtains. Your alarm hadn't gone off yet, and you had no intentions of getting up any earlier then you already had to.

Motionless you laid, waiting for your body to lull back to sleep. However seconds seemed to drag on more like hours, and your mind began its menial task of compartmentalizing all you had to do for that day.

It wasn't until you finally gave in to your roused state, when everything began to set in again. Disappointment. Sheer and utter disappointment. Not to mention dread. With a heavy sigh, your arm that draped over your eyes shot up and grabbed your phone that rested on your nightstand; still connected to the charger. You were shocked— That even through your anguish, you still managed to put your phone on the hook. That was beside the point. You blinked away the haze within your eyes and read the time that sat in bold white letters against your lock screen. 7:30.

You shifted to sit up, back resting on the headboard of your bed. Unlocking your phone, you sifted through social media, text messages, old pictures, you even flittered through little time wasting games that somehow made it onto your phone. You did this, only to avoid the dating app that had started it all. The reason a crashing headache seemed to throb directly behind your eyes.

The gnawing voice in the back of your mind asked that you open it— Check to see if that guy left you a message. Check to see if he even read the one you had sent. However, the logical part of you itched to delete it, removing every last drop from the memory your phone carried. Inner turmoil raged within your foggy mind, and you sat there staring at the app as if it were the devil— coaxing you to do wrongfully. Your thumb came dangerously close to hitting the app in means of opening it— until your saving grace pulled you from the trance.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, a name splayed as a banner at the top of your screen. Prompto Argentium. Your good friend. You had met by pure happenstance in the Citadel, he was lost on his way to meet up with the Prince. One wrong turn had him treading through the opposite wing of the Citadel. Before he knew it he was nearing the Glaive briefing room, with confusion written across his freckled face. You were the one who found him, and kindly walked him to his destination.

It didn't take long for the two of you to become friends, and exchanged information to keep in touch.

With a shadow of a grin on your face, you answered the phone with a trite greeting.

"Hey you, How did the date go? I have been thinking about you all day. Please tell me it went well." Prompto's chipper voice seemed to do more damage then good; absentmindedly rubbing salt within your wounds.

"Terrible, to put it bluntly," You sighed, voice thick. You cleared it and pushed yourself to sit upward, elbows digging into your legs.

"Why? What happened? He sounded like he was it." Disappointment reflected in Prompto's voice, as if he felt just as broken up as you did. Well more like numb at this point.

"He stood me up. I sat at the restaraunt for an hour before giving up. Lets face it Prompto, romance is dead, and hookups are all the rage. No one wants genuine love—" You were silently waving your white flag in surrender to the gods. As if to beg them to stop adding insult upon injury. They won, and you were now fine with that.

"That is not true. It is out there. You just... gotta sift through the bad ones first." He sighed, "You aren't alone. I'm in the same boat. But just because that dude was a loser, doesn't mean all dudes suck."

You wanted to laugh, but swallowed the urge as you swung your feet to hover over the floor. "They do all suck."

"Hey!—"

"Well except you." You shrugged with a hint of a smile. "Look, I am not all bent out of shape about it. Just sucks is all. But I think I need a break from all of that. Its getting to be taxing on my mental health."

"Take care of yourself, girl! Forget about dudes. Tell ya what, maybe we should meet up for lunch. How does Tony's sound? All you can eat bacon—" Prompto was the king at advertising. And damn did bacon sound good.

"Breakfast for lunch— I am in."

****

That night, as you were walking through the halls of the Citadel, gym bag slung over your shoulder— You didn't allow your mind to argue your decision. You deleted the dreaded dating app, and locked your phone. The feeling that seemed to wash over you was strange. While part of you felt freed from the chains that the app held onto you— there was a note of disappointment. But you swallowed it quickly while reaching deep into your pocket and pulling out a small keycard.

You were far from where you truly belonged, edging towards the opposite side of the Citadel from where you usually worked, trained, and dwelt. It was known that there were designated training rooms for those within the Crownsguard, as well as the Royalty. It was also common knowledge that the individuals holding those high positions had keys to enter those rooms. You however, had an in.

As you neared the large gym doors, you glanced around the nearly vacant hallway. It stretched to the left and right of you for a good distance, before branching off to other smaller corridors. Luckily, they were all empty— The only sound came from your approaching feet and the hum from the air conditioning that rushed through metal plated grates near the ceiling. With a practiced, swift maneuver, you tapped the key onto the metal receiver. You were rewarded with a satisfying click, signifying your allowance into the locked room. The metal handle of the door snapped as you shoved it open.

Unlike the training room where the glaives all gathered, this one was nicer; more spacious, and air conditioned. To add the cherries on top— It was hardly used. And at 8:30 at night, it remained vacant. The gym was empty, aside for the equipment that was scattered across the wooden flooring. You were in the clear.

Like the past two weeks you had been visiting the Royal Training Room, you made a steady strut to the woman's locker room to change out of your uniform and into something with a bit more flexibility. However, when you approached the door, you were met with a sign. In black bold face letters it read: CLOSED FOR MATENENCE. "Of course," You sighed, head tilting in attempt to stretch the muscles that seemed to bunch up in your neck. There was no other choice but to retreat to the next locker room over— the men's. Not that it mattered of course, there was no one around. You were alone. You walked the few paces to your left and stepped through the door, sliding your heavy gym bag from off your shoulder.

You hardly looked up as you dumped your bag to the floor. But as soon as you did, you caught a flash of movement. Your gaze whipped from the tile to a large man, white towel clinging to the slight swell in his hips. Your eyes raked up the figure, starting at the calves and growing ever so slowly upward. The figure had a tattoo that stretched from his lower back, and painted his tanned skin all the way across his shoulder blades and bled towards his arms. The detailed ink made the shape of a bird and its wings… and could only be owned by none other then—

"Care to explain why you are here?" His gruff voice reverberated off the walls, and spiked the nervousness in your chest. The muscular man turned to look at you, a second towel clenched in his hand; sopping up the moisture from his soaked, dark brown hair. He seemed unbothered that you had walked in on him, post shower and half naked. However he held a scowl that could be written off as deadly— especially for someone who absolutely did not belong there at all. His thick eyebrow slowly climbed up his forehead, thick lips beginning to flatten into a displeasing line.

You caught yourself gawking and swallowed hard before whipping your head towards the floor. Crouching, you snagged the handles of your bag and threw it over your shoulder. "I am so sorry, I did not mean to intrude. The woman's—"

"I am well aware. I'm talking about in general." He was blunt, and shot straight to the point.

"Ah, I am not sure." You were in for it now. And to spoil all of the luck you had rushed in with the past few weeks— you were busted by the Sworn Shield of the Prince. "Again, my mistake, I will leave."

"No you won't. and don't act like you just stumbled in here. I am not an idiot."

Of course not, you wanted to say, there is a key to get in— "Look, It was my mistake. I will just go—"

"How did you get in here?" Gladiolus gruffly asked. You sighed and took two steps closer to the door; back turned to him to avoid his tempered gaze. At least what you imagined it was.

You had an insider's help— at least that was the honest answer. Were you prepared to give that answer? absolutely not. That would just be throwing Prompto under the bus. You swallowed thickly, bolstered up your bravery and straightened your back. Confidence, you've read in a psychology textbook, can sometimes work within your favor. "I'm afraid I cant share that information."

Gladio huffed, clicking his tongue. The towel he had been drying his hair with was thrown to the bench in front of him. "You best, or you will find yourself in a heap more trouble then you are already in. This training room is for authorized personnel only and as much as I admire the Glaive, you do not count."

The back handed, not really, but kind of a compliment made your heart swell. But only for a moment— It was pilfered rapidly by the growing nerves that continued to pulsate through your veins; even despite your desperate attempts to quell it by bolstering fake confidence. You bowed your head and took another side step to the door. "Yes, I know. I don't have ill intentions. I just like the peace and quiet. The Glaive training room is always crowded, loud and I hardly have space to work with. But like I said: I can't tell you anything. I am sorry again,"

Another step had you half way through the small juncture before the door. You were almost free. "You wait for me outside the locker room. We are not finished with this, and you are not leaving. This is serious."

Serious, he acted like using a gym was a grade A felony. But in fear of being hunted down by what everyone knew as one of the strongest men in the Citadel, you rather not take any chances. You gave him a subtle wave of your hand before finally leaving the locker room.

Part of you felt stupid for not running. He didn't catch your face, or at least to your knowledge— and he had no other information. If you made a break for it, then could he really come after you? You weighed out your options, feet nervously stuttering beneath you. Your foot moved towards the door, however as quickly as your mind changed its thinking; it cemented back in place. You balanced on this uncomfortable precipice for what felt like ever— until you made your decision: leave.

You unglued your heavy foot from off the ground, and took your first step towards freedom. But it ended quickly when the locker room door hinges squealed with dread. Instinctually, you whipped your head around. Gladio stood easily 6'6, rippling muscles cascaded up his thick biceps and continued throughout his upper half. The thin, tight, tank top that Gladio wore seemed to leave very little to the imagination. This man was built. And leaving probably meant your demise. But in the same regard— staying could mean the same as well. Again you swallowed the thickness in your throat and you turned fully to face the Shield. "Listen, Gladio. I don't really want trouble. I just came here looking for a peaceful work out. Sorry for barging in on you, and sorry for being here." Your words sounded more confident than you truly felt, which you supposed could be a good thing… after all, Psychology.

"I will ask again, and I want the real answer. How the hell did you get in here?" Did he just fully ignore you? You were growing tired of the constant questioning. Despite the welling of fear that pooled in your stomach, you flashed a cheeky smirk. You learned far more in your Psychology classes than you had ever thought.

"Maybe you shouldn't leave the door unlocked, it would save from all this trouble." You shrugged, head tilting to the automatic locking door. Reverse Psychology. Snark usually got you nowhere. That is what your mother always said in her usual strict, no nonsense tone. And she was always right on every account. But it didn't make it any less appealing to speak that way.

You were lucky to catch the cascading thoughts flooding through Gladio's mind. His amber eyes told the story well. It began with fear, back tracking through his past hour— then a sudden crash of realization-- then the final touch of sharpness when he picked up on your idiocy. "Enough of the games—"

"Like I said Gladio, It was great meeting you, but unfortunately this is beginning to bore me, and I have places to be this evening. Its been swell." You turned on your heels with a little bit of oomph, hair whipping to follow your wake. You trekked with a steady step towards the door.

"Hold it! I didn't even get your name!" he shouted, voice booming against the walls of the training room. You waited for him to grab you and detain you. Which he was more than capable of doing; considering you were in the wrong, committing crimes against the Citadel— even if they did seem insignificant. However that wasn't going to stop you from making a break for it.

You only tilted your head back to respond: "Sorry for being inconsiderate… As unfortunate as it sounds, I was never given a name."

"That's bullshit." His voice flickered away from the strict tone it usually carried. It cracked as if to show a bit of amusement. Were you amusing the Prince's Shield? You knew you were dead meat, and most likely were about to be in a long ass conference with the General, Marshal, and most likely the witness of your heinous crime. Boldness and confidence occasionally worked within your favor, and you were ready to gamble that.

"Says the guy with a name. Catch ya later!" You pushed hard at the gym doors, and quickly made your get away.

#ffxv #final fantasy 15 #final fantasy xv #gladiolus amiticia #gladio x reader #final fantasy gladiolus #ff15 gladio #reader insert #rosie writes

92 notes · View notes

happypopcornprincess · 2 years

Note

May I please request a fic for "The Hating Game" where the side characters find out about Joaquin and the reader dating and how would they react?

I really want to see the reactions of captain Bexley and Y/N's parents on their relationship :D

This is such an interesting pov thank you so much for this request. 💗

How would everyone react to Y/N and Joaquin dating? A 'The Hating Game' drabble

Warnings: Major Spoilers for The Hating Game Novel. (Btw read the book, it is amazing) Strong and suggestive language.

A/N - I was so focused on the main story of Joaquin and Y/N that I had very little time to develop the side characters. I had two characters planned that would be Joaquin and Y/N’s closest mates on their base and would encourage them to pursue each other, but I had to scrap the idea because it seemed lengthy. Anyways, there are three recurring side characters in the story, so I wrote this drabble about them.

PS I saw Clueless (1995) a few days ago, so let me know if you found a fun little easter egg I placed in there while writing this. Hope you like it <3

I suggest you read the three-parter fic The Hating Game. And I really hope you like it and let me know how you did by replying to the stories. Any and all requests are welcome and you can submit them in the asks. Enjoy, and have a pleasant day <3

Credits to Sally Throne for the original story from which this was inspired.

This fic is completed. Headcanons, Drabbles, and Requests on this fic are open in my asks! :)

Captain Bexley

When he dropped you at the hangar, the poor guy would have a field day trying to figure out if you kissed Joaquin or if his eyes gave in.

He would think through every interaction he saw you two have. He would also run through the number of times he has given you a piece of his mind after yet another complaint of you two fighting.

But then he remembers Joaquin’s party when he saw you shake hands.

He doesn't think much about it, happy that Joaquin was getting a terrific opportunity in his career, and that he is in love.

Mostly because his headaches are reduced in half because he doesn't have to deal with you two.

Y/N's Mom

She found out after overhearing Joaquin on your weekly Facetime.

"TOUCHDOWN!!!"

"Who was that?" Your mom looked startled after she heard his voice. You look at him with wide eyes after you told him to stay quiet during the call. He grimaces, saying a soft "sorry," while keeping his phone down, the soccer match now being his last concern.

"Uh, mummy, I'm kind of seeing someone. He's staying over tonight." You say, bracing yourself for impact.

"Oh, that's okay honey, that's wonderful." She smiles softly.

"Hey Mrs. Y/L/N. I'm Joaquin. It's nice to meet you." Joaquin slides into your side looking at your mother.

You thought the screen lacked response when she didn't move for a whole minute. Her eyes kept looking at him, and then at you.

"Joaquin, oh, nice to meet you, dear, I've heard a lot about you from y/n."

You let out a nervous laugh and abruptly say, "Okay mum, I'll talk later I've got to go."

“Sure, but I don't want to be a granny so soon so use protection and…"

You cut the call and throw your phone across the couch, hiding your face behind your hands. "I am so sorry about that. Mummy's a bit, straightforward." You groan.

Joaquin just breaks into a fit of laughter as he tackles you in a big hug.

Y/N’s dad (I really want this to be a 'southern dad disapproving of his daughter’s man' trope pls bear with me :)

Joaquin visits you at your farmhouse a day before your birthday to surprise you. You run down the porch steps to jump at him while he throws his duffle bag down.

You engulf him in a big hug as he picks you up, holding you tight. He lets you down and you kiss him full on his mouth, which he responds to by grabbing your waist.

Joaquin immediately lets go of you. You look at him bewildered, but you see your father standing outside the house, staring at you. You are lost in him when you hear someone clearing their throat in the background. Joaquin immediately lets go of you.

Joaquin tensed up at this, knowing that your pops do not outright reject him, but do not accept him fully either. Given your history. You still took his hand, and walked up to your pops, “Pops, this is Joaquin. Joaquin, this is my dad” “Sir” he nods and steps up to shake your father’s hand, which he returned by laughing and hugging him instead. “Come on in, Y/N darling, guide Joaquin to the guest room.” he looks at you. “Joaquin is sleeping in the guest room?” you ask your father. "Am I sleeping in the guest room?" he asks. “You are sleeping in the guest room,” he says with a small smile and claps a hand on his shoulder, a weird way of asserting dominance.

You roll your eyes at the pair and head inside, and when Joaquin tries to follow you, Pops holds his shoulders tightly and whispers, “You think about hurting her boy, I have a .45 and a shovel. I don’t care if you roll with the Avengers, I’ll do it.” and then he lets him go.

When he is finally settled down in the guest room, and you realize what happened after looking at his startled face, you give him a kiss on the cheek and say, “He gave you the shovel talk didn’t he?” “Yes.” “I’ll sneak out tonight. For you.” You squeeze his butt which makes him laugh.

He pulls you into his arms, “Mi amor you will be the death of me,” he says and kisses your nose.

---//---//---//---//---//---//---//---//---//---//---

Series Masterlist

A/N - Thank you everyone for sticking with me till the end of this fic! if you liked it please let me know through the asks and the comments. Any and all requests, headcanons, and drabble requests about this AU is mostly welcome. Love y'all, Take Care!

Requests are open! Feel free to request anything.

---//---//---//---//---//---//---//---//---//---//---

Tag List:

@tuiccim @parkjammys @akinrawsx @asteph22 @iamthebeth @thefandomqueenuno @onlyhereforthefics @yikesdameron @savedfanfics1992 @amigaytho @hoennsficrecs @samwilson-mylove @xbuchananbarnes-deactivated @jenniweaslee @anna-phora @fluffyprettykitty @ladiesluver

43 notes · View notes

goldentournesol · 3 years

Text

Truth or Dare

(Spencer Reid x fem!Reader)

The one where Spencer is married with children and JJ confesses her love for him. Length: 2.7k A/N: this is technically a bonus chapter of The Receptionist and the Profiler but can definitely be read as a standalone. this is my take on the JJ confession, enjoy! don’t be shy, leave a comment or reblog! masterlist

Y/N furiously clicked her mouse in response to her computer screen lagging. She released an exasperated sigh and placed her head into her hands. She could practically feel the bags under her eyes increase in size and depth as she tried to regain control of her breathing. Raising two children and being the BAU’s liaison was proving to be extremely difficult, she couldn’t go out into the field or travel with the team as much. After what happened with Cat Adams, she had a hard time leaving Emelia and Adaline. Emily only requested her help as a liaison in the field when she absolutely needed it, anything else could be taken care of from Quantico. Her head pounded against her palms and her only reprieve from her incessant headache was closing her eyes. She must have dozed off in her office because the next thing she knew, she was waking up to a warm hand squeezing her shoulder.

She shot up in her seat, heart beating at an alarming rate until she was met with her husband’s eyes. Her shoulders instantly relaxed, “You’re back.” She said with relief, standing to wrap him in a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked into her shoulder, squeezing her tighter than usual.

She fought back a yawn and nodded, “Yeah, I’m just exhausted.” She pulled back and rested her hands on his face to inspect for injuries and found none on his face. A bandaged hand wrapped around one of her wrists and she gasped, “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter, it’s not that deep, just a little gash.” Spencer said dismissively, his thumb rubbing against her wrist. “Let’s go home.” She nodded and quickly packed her things, eager to see her two baby girls.

On her way out, she noticed JJ and Rossi speaking in hushed tones. She managed to wave at them as she and Spencer made their way to the elevator. Rossi waved back, JJ looked away. Y/N had thought nothing of it, perhaps this had been a hard case on her. At least they had Rossi’s wedding tomorrow to look forward to and unwind a little. The girls would be with a babysitter and Y/N was looking forward to dressing up and hopefully getting a little (a lot) wine drunk.

Spencer was silent the entire way home, which wasn’t uncommon, so again, Y/N had thought nothing of it. As soon as they made it through the door, Emelia and Adaline came running up to the door, squealing with glee. Each parent scooped up a baby girl and showered them with kisses until they switched.

Here, with a beautiful healthy daughter in his arms, he could forget about all the confusion of JJ’s confession. Spencer usually dealt with these difficult things on his own and in his head. He hadn’t had time to process it fully to bring it to his wife. He would deal with it later, right now, all he wanted was to spend time with his three favorite girls. Y/N hadn’t noticed anything different in the way Spencer was acting around the girls, but each hug he gave her felt a little tighter. She appreciated it and was definitely not about to complain about receiving tighter hugs from her husband.

The suspicions began the next day at Rossi’s wedding. With the girls not serving as a distraction, Y/N began to see the signs of Spencer retreating into himself. She hadn’t heard all the details of the last case yet, but Emily will soon let her know.

Emily was in the middle of giving a speech when Y/N snuck a look at Spencer beside her. He was politely listening, but everything about his eyes let her know that he was elsewhere. She caught JJ’s eye across the room, it seems as though JJ was staring at her husband as well. Before Y/N could ask with her eyes, JJ had looked away once more, the aversion of her gaze hinting at shame. A sinking feeling resided in her chest.

She leaned towards him, linking their arms together, her heart strings intertwining with his in some metaphysical sense. Her sudden affection made him turn to her and send her a small smile. He quieted down the question in her eyes with a tender kiss to her cheek, knowing for a fact that the woman across the room watched what happened, a silent declaration of what he chose, what he will always choose.

Before they knew it, the music began blaring with Luke, Matt, and Penelope stealing the show with their dance moves. Y/N couldn’t contain her laughter as she watched them all prance around. In true Garcia fashion, she approached her and pulled her up to begin dancing. Y/N looked back towards Spencer for help but he just laughed and encouraged her to dance. All too soon, the music morphed into a slow paced rhythm. Turning around to ask Spencer to dance, she found the seat to be empty. Eyes flitting to the bar, she found Spencer and JJ in the middle of a conversation.

“Hey, you can dance with me!” Tara said, whisking Y/N away from the scene. Y/N sent her a small grateful smile, but her curiosity was heavy.

“Is JJ okay? Did something happen?” Y/N asked Tara as they slow danced together. Tara was visibly taken aback by the question, she thought Spencer would have told Y/N about what had happened by now, but she decided that it was not her story to tell.

“Yeah, JJ’s totally fine.” Tara said dismissively and began steering Y/N away from that conversation. They soon broke apart to gather around the cake. Y/N was only half paying attention until she saw JJ take her place next to Will and was alerted of Spencer’s presence as he placed his hands on her hips from behind. She leaned into his warmth and let it go for the final time that night, she would ask about it when they were alone. But by the time the night ended, JJ was not on Y/N’s list of important things to remember. She was a little bit past tipsy and Spencer practically had to drag her out to their car.

The weekend went by smoothly, Spencer had his head buried in mountains of papers from his students even though Y/N told him that he could read them online and save so much paper. The weekend had come and gone and they were back in the office in the blink of an eye. The awkwardness between the two lifelong friends resumed. JJ was arguably the closest person to Spencer on the team (besides Y/N of course), so she found it more than weird that the two were actively avoiding each other.

Lunch time came around and Y/N had had enough of it, she snuck into Penelope’s office.

“Hey, sunshine!” Penelope greeted, taking a hefty bite out of her donut.

“Hey.” Y/N said, leaning against the desk adjacent to Penelope’s, stirring her coffee.

“What’s going on?” Penelope stared at her knowingly. Y/N immediately put the coffee down and stared at Penelope.

“Did something happen between JJ and Spence on the last case?” Y/N asked directly, deciding that beating around the bush would help no one.

Y/N didn’t miss the slight widening of Penelope’s eyes, “Wh-what? Why would you ask that?”

“They’ve been acting really awkward around each other and JJ’s been avoiding me like the plague.” Y/N huffed.

Penelope panicked, stuttering out, “I uh, I really think you should talk to Spencer.”

“No one’s telling me anything! Not you, not Tara! Should I be worried?” She asked, exasperated.

“Honestly? No, I don’t think so. Spencer loves you.” Penelope said surely.

Spencer loves you.

What does that even mean?

Y/N turned on her heel, leaving her coffee and marched all the way to Spencer’s desk. The carpet drowned out the clickity clack of her heels. Spencer raised his head from his files to smile at her.

“My office, now.” Y/N said simply, her tone neither angry nor cool, his smile retreating as he followed her like a puppy. Matt and Luke shared a knowing look between them and pretended to focus on their work so as to not get caught in the line of fire.

She closed the door and the blinds, crossing her arms and turning to see him taking a seat, “Care to explain why Garica just felt the need to assure me that my husband loves me? Or to explain why you and JJ have been acting so weird and having secret conversations? Or maybe why she’s been acting like I don’t exist for the past 3 and a half days?”

For a moment, Spencer looked like a child who had been caught stealing cookies out of the cookie jar, then his face returned to an unnerving mask of calm. This mask made her panic even more.

“Does this have anything to do with the hostage situation you two were in?” Y/N asked, she had just gone over the report that morning, but it had little to no details.

Spencer took a deep breath and rested both hands on his thighs, in any other circumstance, Y/N might have been tempted to sit across his lap and kiss him until they were both red in the face. But not right now, right now she needed answers.

“Yes, well--okay, yes. Something did happen. I promise I was going to tell you, but it never seemed like the right time to bring it up, I didn’t want to bring it up at home around the girls, and I didn’t want to bring it up here either.” Spencer said, leaning back to rest against the chair.

“What happened?” Y/N took a seat across from him, no longer feeling the need to attack, but rather to understand.

“JJ and I were being held hostage. The unsub, Casey, was about to shoot JJ and me. He told her to reveal something that she’d never say aloud and she…” Spencer swallowed, trailing off. Y/N leaned forward, already expecting where this was going.

“She told me that she’s always loved me and that she was just too scared to say it before.” He spoke softly, meeting her eyes.

Y/N blinked slowly, “Bullshit.”

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows at her.

“Are you sure she wasn’t just saying that in front of the unsub to get him to back down? Are you sure it was real?” Y/N said, standing up from her seat. She paced around her room, trying to piece together any evidence from the past few years that could back up that claim.

JJ had been the one to push Y/N and Spencer together. JJ couldn’t have had all these feelings for Spencer. What about Will? Henry? Michael? They were her and Spencer’s Godchildren for crying out loud. Y/N’s brain was going a hundred miles a minute. Spencer watched her pace around the small office.

“I, I don’t know. It seemed real.” Spencer wished what he had to say would calm his wife, but he really didn’t know at this point.

“Do you…” she swallowed, the question heavy on her tongue, “do you feel the same?” The tears were ready, resting at her waterline, waiting for the call. Her insecurities were ready to take over.

“No!” Spencer objected, standing from his seat. Normally, his defensive reply would have made her suspicious, but the look of utter shock and hurt on his face quelled any doubt that arose.

“No, I don’t. I love you. I have always loved you. God, you know this, I’ve loved you even when you weren’t mine to love. I’ve loved you since I was just a baby faced profiler and you were just a receptionist. I will never stop loving you and the girls, Y/N.” He said definitively, walking towards his wife and grabbing her clammy hands in his. He pressed a gentle kiss to each of her hands, staring into her teary eyes.

The cavern in her chest began to patch itself up as he looked at her that way. She had no choice but to believe him.

“Okay, I believe you.” She smiled, a tear escaping. He reached up to tenderly swipe it away. With a simple tilt of his chin, he captured her lips in an intense, passionate kiss and like all of their kisses, he took her breath away. But something about the desperation in this kiss made it hard for her lungs to perceive air. He had a point to prove.

A few moments of silence passed between them and Y/N took a deep breath, “I should talk to JJ.”

Spencer hadn’t pulled away yet, “It’s your choice, my love.” He placed a soft kiss to the center of her forehead and stepped back to catch her eye, “Are we okay?”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at him, “Yes, we’re okay. Can you ask JJ to come in after you leave?”

With a nod and another kiss, he left the office to go summon JJ. Y/N took her seat at her desk and folded her hands in anticipation, the undeniable and unrelenting feelings of anger and jealousy coursing right underneath her skin.

A gentle knock sounded throughout the small office and Y/N invited her to take a seat before her.

“Listen, Y/N, if this is about what I said back--” JJ began, but Y/N wasn’t interested in any of the formalities.

“Did you mean it?” Y/N asked, making direct eye contact. JJ was taken aback at the similarities between Y/N’s question and Spencer’s. They had both asked in the same way. She wasn’t ready back then. But she is now.

“Yes..” JJ whispered, averting her gaze once more. The gaze of the wife of the man she thought she loved was too heavy to face straight on.

“Yes, what? Do you love my husband?” Y/N spoke with an unrecognizable sharp edge to her voice.

“Yes, I love him. I’ve always known it. Things just got too messy too quickly. I have Will and the boys and I would never ever give them up. Spence-- Spencer has you and the girls and I could never dream of taking him away from you.” JJ spoke clearly, her eyes reddening and glistening with unshed tears.

“You are the perfect wife, I watched him fall in love with you. You’re also the best mother to his children, it’s hard not to be jealous of you.” JJ continued. The sinking feeling returned to her chest.

“You have nothing to be jealous of, I’m just doing my best. You’re one of the greatest mothers I have ever known. I need you to tell me that this is where it ends, JJ. I cannot afford the stress.” Y/N replied.

“This is where it ends, I promise. It’s over. He has you and Emelia and Adaline and I have Will, Henry, and Michael. If we were ever meant to be, then it would have happened. He deserves you, after everything he’s been through. He deserves you.” She said tearfully, wiping away stray tears.

Y/N stood from her seat and walked around her desk to embrace her in a tight hug. JJ cried into her shoulder, “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“I know. It’s okay, we’re okay.” Y/N rubbed her shoulder, pulling away.

“Are things going to be awkward now?” JJ chuckled, blowing her nose.

“Only if you keep avoiding me.” Y/N joked back, JJ promised she wouldn’t and excused herself to get back to work.

Y/N followed her out and stopped at her door. Leaning against her door frame, she caught her husband’s eye across the bullpen and sent him a smile and a nod.

It’ll be alright.

They’ll be alright.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid fic #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid masterlist #spencer reid oneshot #the receptionist and the profiler #tratp #spencer reid imagine #jeid #jeid confession

1K notes · View notes

hogarthwrites · 2 years

Text

part of your charm

pairing: samuel drake/femme!reader (m/f)

genre: smut

warnings: smut

content: body worship, established relationship, smut with feelings

words: 1,704

summary:

You feel a little insecure about yourself, but Sam does what he does best to make you feel better ;)

note:

This was a request from @howboutwedont <3

Hope you enjoy Sam being very sweet and loving ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

You sat alone in the hotel room you shared with Sam, glumly staring at the screen in front of you. You were doing some recon for the job he, Chloe, and Nadine were going to do for the next few days.

Sam had gone to meet with his business partners, but you'd had a terrible headache earlier so you decided to stay in. After a few hours’ nap and an Advil, you were finally up. Bored out of your mind, you decided to go on Instagram and instantly regretted it. There were endless photos of your friends and celebrities posing in their cute, skimpy outfits and swimsuits. It usually didn’t bother you, but as you glanced down at your tummy, you began to feel a little insecure.

Stop, stop, stop, you reprimanded yourself. You’re just as cute as all those girls. You landed Sam Drake of all people!

Still, you stood up and looked at yourself in the mirror. You didn’t look like all those Instagram models and you frowned, wondering what Sam saw in you.

“He’s probably just being nice,” you sighed as you slammed your laptop shut and flopped down on the bed. “Maybe it’s my great personality.”

You closed your eyes, annoyed that you’ve made yourself so upset.

It was then the door opened and you heard Sam come in.

“There she is,” he smiled as he held up a paper bag. “I got you your favourite.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Pad thai?”

“With shrimp,” Sam winked before he walked to the bed. “Do you feel any better?”

“Yeah,” you sat up and he gave you a soft kiss. “I'm a bit better.”

“What's on your mind?” Sam put the paper bag on the side table and cupped your cheeks. His warm, hazel eyes met yours as if he was trying to read your mind through them.

“It's just…” You sighed and leaned into his hands, realising how much you had missed him while he was gone. “It's nothing. I just missed you, is all.”

You sighed and turned around to grab the food, but Sam took your hand.

“Come on, baby,” he gently rubbed his thumb on your hand. “I know that sigh and that look. What is it?”

“You know me too well,” you rolled your eyes and he smiled a little, melting your heart.

“You're my best girl,” he kissed your hand.

“Even if I don't look like an Instagram model?”

“Ah,” he scooted closer to you. “That's what this is about.”

“It's stupid,” you shook your head, and Sam cupped your cheek again.

“Baby, I don't care that you don't look like those girls,” he took your hands in his. “You're the most beautiful woman I've ever been with and that is the honest truth.”

You couldn't help but blush.

“Even if I got this belly?” You whispered.

Sam smiled and put his hands on your stomach, something that still made you freeze a little.

“You still don't believe me when I say I think your belly is sexy as fuck, huh?”

“It's kind of hard to…”

Sam kissed you again, his hands moving to your waist. “Do you want me to show you how sexy I think you are?”

You nodded into the kiss and he gently pushed you down on the bed. His lips moved down to your chin, then your neck, where he gave extra attention to that spot near the base of your neck that always made you whimper. While he kissed you, his hands ravaged your body over your old shirt and gym shorts.

“What do you see in me, Sam?” You asked, almost hoping he didn't hear it.

Sam promptly sat up, looking a little confused. “What do I see in you?”

He cupped your breasts before running his hands down to your belly again.

“I see a beautiful woman who makes me incredibly happy in every way,” he smiled as he leaned over and kissed your belly. “And despite being the sweetest, most thoughtful person, she always gets my dick working overtime turbo.”

“Sam,” you giggled.

“May I?” His fingers lingered at the hem of your shirt.

You sat up and nodded, raising your hands so he could take your shirt off.

He let out a breath as he looked at you. “You're really asking me why I'm so attracted to you?”

You playfully rolled your eyes, giggling as he pushed you down on the bed again.

Sam’s lips were instantly on one of your nipples, licking and sucking on the sensitive nibs. You squirmed, feeling yourself get wet.

His hand moved down your ass and your thigh, giving both a hard squeeze. There was a noticeable tent in his jeans as he tried to hump you through them.

“Need help with that?” You asked.

“Please,” he groaned.

He sat back, watching as you changed positions. You undid his jeans and he was more than happy to help you pull it down and off, where it landed on the carpet next to your shirt.

You licked the length of his cock before putting it in your mouth; something that always made Sam buck his hips in anticipation. He said nothing as you bobbed your head up and down on his length, but his moans and the way he grabbed at your hair made up for the silence.

Having Sam in your mouth always made you forget about everything else. In that moment, he was yours and you were the only person in the world who could make him feel that way.

“Wait,” he breathed and you sat up to look at him.

“What's wrong?”

“This isn't about me.”

He pulled you onto his lap and kissed you.

“I wanna make you feel good,” he whispered between kisses.

Sam took his shirt off and had you on the bed again, giving you a grin as he pulled off your shorts and your underwear. He kissed your thighs, giving them gentle squeezes as he made his way up to your pussy.

Your legs were spread out for him as he began sucking on your clit, making you shudder in pleasure. He hummed as he continued to lick and suck, pinning your hips down so he could stick his tongue inside you.

Soon you were a moaning, writhing mess as you came. Your back arched and you pulled at his hair.

“That's right,” he gave your clit a kiss.

“Sam,” you sighed.

“I'm not done with you yet, gorgeous,” he chuckled as he moved up to kiss you.

“Give me more,” you whimpered as he positioned himself between your legs.

Sam continued to kiss you as he slowly pushed himself into you. The sensation always felt amazing and you moaned into his lips.

He started out slow and sweet, grabbing your waist as he made love to you. His little sighs and moans made you even more wet as you moved your hips in time with him.

“God, I'll never get tired of this,” he chuckled as he kissed your neck. “You're so beautiful.”

He grabbed your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours as he sat up. He bit his lip as his eyes roamed your body, almost mesmerized that he was actually in you.

He bucked his hips into yours and you gasped.

“Yes, just like that,” you sighed.

Sam didn't say anything as he continued to fuck you harder and faster. He loved seeing how you reacted to him and how you looked when he made you feel good.

With your hands still pinned down under his, you looked up, your world narrowing to just Sam and his hazel eyes, looking at you as if he was a lovesick fool.

You felt that familiar rush come back and your eyes rolled back in pleasure as you came again.

Sam groaned loudly as your walls tightened around his cock. He was so close.

He let go of your hand and he lay on top of you. You automatically wrapped your arms around his neck, while he kissed your cheek.

“I love you, Sam,” you sighed.

“Oh my god,” he groaned and he slammed into you hard as he came, shaking. His moans filled your ear as he rode out his orgasm and you couldn't help but get turned on again.

“I love you, baby,” he breathed before he kissed you. “Fuck me, I love you so much.”

You felt him cum inside you and you came again, moaning out his name.

You let your arms slide down on the bed as you came down from your high, but Sam continued to give your neck soft kisses.

He slowly pulled out and you felt the warm liquid drip down the globes of your ass.

“Did that convince you yet?” He asked.

“More or less.”

“More or less?” Sam looked up at you.

“You were very convincing, Sam,” you smiled.

“My pleasure,” he winked.

You rolled into his arms, burying your face in his chest hair. He smelled nice and he was warm, making you a little drowsy.

“I meant everything, by the way,” Sam said. “You make me happier than I've ever been in my life.”

“You make me happy too, Sam,” you kissed him.

“I know I'm just your boyfriend, but I hope you'd appreciate your body more. You're insanely irresistible.”

“Sam,” you were too flustered to speak and you buried your face in his chest again.

You felt him laugh. “You're cute.”

“I'm also hungry,” you sat up and gave his lips a peck.

“Food, a nap, and maybe round two?” He gave you a mischievous look.

“Maybe this time I could show you how much I appreciate you.”

“If you want to,” he tucked your hair behind your ear. “You gonna tell me my wrinkles are sexy?”

“They're part of your charm,” you giggled. “Let's eat first, I'm starving.”

Sam made you laugh a lot while you had dinner together. You looked at him as he ate, grateful to have a partner who wanted and accepted you the same way you wanted and accepted him.

You knew you were going to love that man for a long time and the thought made you giddy.

Here's to forever, Sam.

#sam drake x reader #sam drake #samuel drake

66 notes · View notes

xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

Text

Boyfriend’s Best Friend - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader (ft. Kirishima)

Warnings: CRACK, Fluff, Cursing, Frisky moments

Summary: This was not how Bakugou wanted to spend his weekend. Trapped inside his best friend’s body?! Hell no. What makes it worse is that before he can tell you, you’ve already smothered Kirishima (who is in Katsuki’s body) with more than enough attention. Attention that belongs to the angry Pomeranian. And what does Kirishima think about all of this? Fuck nitroglycerin and boners.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

A/N: This shit is gonna get real confusing so KEEP UP and STAY FOCUSED

“Shit.”

After fighting off that petty thief on their way back to school, the two best friends took a look at each other after feeling a throb in their heads. But something wasn’t right. Bakugou was looking at..Bakugou and Kirishima was looking at...Kirishima???

“WHAT IS HAPPENING?!!” The red blonde headed boy asked. Kirishima made a face at his now very deep and gruff voice. He looked down and noticed his tan skin was the slightest bit paler and his clothes had changed. He turned his gaze towards the position where is best friend should be but only saw..well, himself.

“Argh, shut the hell up Shitty Hair. My head is pounding.” Bakugou said while holding onto his now red hair. He looked towards his friend to see a frantic look on his face. “Quit making me look like a bitch, Kirishima.”

“I can’t help it!! Not after what just happened!!” Kirishima said. Bakugou rolled his eyes and huffed before walking over to his friend and dragging him to a reflective window.

“We switched bodies you idiot. That damn thief must’ve hit us while we were distracted.” Bakugou took a look at his new body and cringed. Not that he thought Kirishima was ugly or anything, but he wanted to be in his own body. It just felt wrong having someone else’s dick.

“Well then we should get back to the dorms and find Mr. Aizawa. Maybe he can help.” Bakugou agreed and the boys started their journey back to the dormitory. As they walked, they took notice of a few things.

“Ugh. All these damn extras are staring at my hair.”

“My palms feel so sweaty.”

“Fuck! I keep biting my inner cheek. Stupid shark teeth.”

“Why the hell am I getting a random ass print?!”

“Nitroglycerin works like viagra Shitty Hair! Just fucking get used to it and learn how to control it!”

“I have your hair man! Does that mean you have shitty hair?”

“SHUT THE HELL UP!!”

“.....Is that..*sniff sniff*...caramel?”

“I SAID SHUT UP!”

—

“You’ll be back to normal in 2 weeks.” Aizawa bluntly said.

“2 WEEKS?!?” The boys screamed.

“Wha- HOW DO YOU KNOW?!” Bakugou screamed, trying to jump onto Aizawa with Kirishima holding him back. To anyone else, it would look like Bakugou holding Kirishima back. Oh how the tables have kinda turned.

“I know because officers have been trying to catch this thief for some time now. Even I’ve run into him on some occasions. His quirk is is called ‘Swapped.’ He takes your soul and spirit and places it in a different form...obviously. It doesn’t do much harm but it lasts for some time. Don’t worry though, you’ll be back to normal eventually.” Their teacher explained. “‘Till then, just tough it out for the next 2 weeks. Dismissed.”

The boys groaned and walked back to the common room floor. They walked in to find a few other classmates who thankfully didn’t seem too suspicious of anything. The boys went their separate ways, going to their own dorms to soothe their still aching heads.

—

Kirishima was the first to come out of his room. After contemplating whether he should take a shower or not, he chose the latter. He could survive the rest of the day without one, he’ll just worry about bathing later. Besides, he doesn’t mind smelling like a sweet treat for the next few hours and you know…not having to see and wash his best friend’s body and dick.

He walked down into the kitchen to find it empty. He was glad he wouldn’t have to explain his situation to anyone. If anyone saw Bakugou acting like the sweet bean that Kirishima is then I’m pretty sure a lot of people would have questions.

Looking around, he saw a batch of brownies left on a tray. He couldn’t help himself and went in to grab one. Unfortunately, he wasn’t aware of how chewy they were and after taking a few chomps, he realized the treat was as tough as glue. He couldn’t even open his mouth! And just to his luck, Bakugou’s girlfriend had walked in, seemingly back from her training session.

“Hi baby.” Y/N said. She went up to who she thought was her boyfriend and gave him a hug along with a peck on his cheek. “How was your day?”

Kirishima grew nervous. He didn’t know how to handle this situation. He would totally tell Y/N that it was actually him in her boyfriend’s body but the brownie sealed his mouth shut! He resorted to going with the flow and just nodding with a nervous smile. A very Bakugou smile.

“Tiring?” Y/N asked. Kirishima nodded his head. “Umm..okay. Well, same for me, but I still have enough energy for movie night, so I’ll see you in the common room. ‘Kay?”

Again, the now blonde nodded his head again. You smiled at him and went in to give him another hug. To your shock, you felt something poking you when you gave your boyfriend a hug. You looked down and noticed a pretty impressive print through his sweats and smirked. You looked up to your “boyfriend” and gave him a sly look. “You sure you’re tired Suki? Cuz your friend down here says you’re down for something else.”

Kirishima began to shake due to his nervousness now. He couldn’t help the damn boner! One, nitroglycerin is apparently 12x stronger than viagra, and two! He can’t relieve himself! Looking at and touching his best friend’s dick was wrong! And weird! Even if it was attached to him now!

What Kirishima wasn’t prepared for was you being so willing to help relieve his stiffy. On the bright side, he’d relive his hard on. On the not so bright side, he’d be fucking his best bro’s girl. Big no no. He definitely wasn’t prepared for your hand to travel down his torso and grab onto his Bakugou’s dick. “You still tired Suki?”

Kirishima couldn’t help himself. It felt too good to stop. He threw his head back and enjoyed the stimulation, even though he knew it was wrong. All he knew was that if he let this whole thing play through, he wouldn’t have to worry about walking around with a huge ass boner. A blush grew on his face as he moaned. He felt you peck at his neck a bit before stopping all your motions. The now blonde looked towards you in confusion and saw your laughter.

“Hehe, sorry Suki. Save it for later tonight, okay? I’ve gotta freshen up but I’ll see you later, Love.” You said before giving him a sweet peck and walking away. Once you were out of sight, Kirishima fanned his face to try and get rid of his blush. He then quickly ran to the fridge and chugged a few gulps of milk down to wash away the brownie.

“Fuck.” Was all that he said. Did that really just happen? Shit. Should he have let that happen? At this point he didn’t know. The man in him said HELL NO, but the nitroglycerin said otherwise. All Kirishima knew was that apparently he had a movie date to get to.

—

So now here we are, Y/N and Kirishima (in Bakugou’s body) all cuddled up on one of the common room couches during the late hours of the night, watching a movie. Kirishima thought Y/N looked really tempting in her booty shorts and tube top. The way her plush chest pressed up against his own as she watched the screen with a smile wasn’t aiding Kirishima’s mission to relieve his hard on.

Throughout the whole movie, Kirishima watched from time to time how Y/N would rub her legs together. It seemed she was growing some urges as well. Kirishima couldn’t shake his nerves..like...AT ALL.

Finally. It was almost the end of the movie. Kirishima had almost made it. All he had to do was finish the last 10 minutes and he could go..well honestly he didn’t know yet but he’ll figure it out later! Unfortunately, the universe had different plans. Kirishima watched as Y/N sat up to grab the remote and turn off the T.V. She placed the object down on the table and faced who she assumed to be her boyfriend. She wrapped her arms around his neck and went to straddle his groin.

“Uh-..Y/N?” Kirishima asked with a shaky voice as he gulped down a nerve. You smirked at him and leaned down to leave kisses all over his neck. Kirishima shook a bit and let out a shudder at your soft lips.

“Relax Suki. We won’t get caught. ‘Sides, when have you ever been afraid to fuck in public?” You said. You then went up to start off your session with a hot kiss to “Katsuki’s” lips. Kirishima had wide eyes as you took in his lips, but eventually, your sweet taste and bouncy lips made him succumb to your wishes.

He placed his hands on your waist as he kissed you back. When he opened his mouth you slid your tongue in as your hands entangled themselves in his hair. The kiss was fiery and passionate and eventually you and “Katsuki” both began to moan into the kiss. His hands traveled to your ass and gave in a firm grip which made you release a loud moan. Things were definitely heating up now.

—

When Katsuki came back to the dorms, he had already been exhausted by the entire situation. The only thing on his mind was getting some rest to ware off the headache, hours had passed and he eventually woke up in the middle of the night.

“Shit, how long have I been out?” He stretched and yawned a bit before he got up. The mirror hanging on his wall reminded him of his new body. “Oh, right. I’m in Shitty Hair’s body......gross.”

Bakugou felt his mouth become dry and so he planned to get a glass of water from the kitchen. As he walked down the halls, he couldn’t help but think about you. His precious girl. The love of his life who’s been with him since childhood and who he’s been dating since their second year in junior high. You were with him through it all and he couldn’t help but feel a little bad that he had to miss movie night.

‘Fuck, did I even tell Y/N I wouldn’t make it to movie night? Crap,’ he thought. Oh well, he’d just have to make up for it later. As he walked near the common rooms, his ears picked up a sound. And not just any sound, it was a moan. And he knew exactly who’s moan it was, for he had been the cause of those exact sounds and he’s heard them time and time again.

Bakugou ran to the common rooms to find his girlfriend and his body making out and slowly grinding on each other on the couch. He watched “his” hands travel to grope Y/N’s ass and bit his lip when he heard his girlfriend’s pleasured moans. He wasn’t gonna lie, the scene before him had turned him on, but what became a huge turnoff was the fact that Bakugou knew it wasn’t him in there and he knew exactly who was in his damn body!

“THE HELL?!” Bakugou screamed in Kirishima’s voice. He watched the two of you jump away from each other in shock and saw a look of fear flow through Kirishima’s his own eyes.

“Jeez, Kirishima. You scared us.” You said to your actual boyfriend without knowing it. Bakugou fumed at the fact that you were just making out and were probably about to fuck his best friend but he couldn’t blame you. You called him Kirishima so you must’ve not known about the switch.

“Can I talk to Bakugou real quick, L/N?” Bleh. Calling someone else by his name was weird and calling you by your family name was very uncomfortable.

“Umm..we’re kinda in the middle of something so maybe if you could jus-“

“Thanks.” He said and dragged “Bakugou” away behind a hallway corner. He pinned his body up against the wall and got in Kirishima’s face as he held the man by his collar. “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING KISSING MY GIRLFRIEND?!”

“IM SORRY! I DIDN’T MEAN TO! SHE CAME ONTO ME!” Kirishima explained while being held against the wall.

“NO SHIT SHE CAME ONTO YOU! YOU’RE IN MY BODY! YOU’RE ME! I’M HER BOYFRIEND! SHE THOUGHT YOU WERE ME SHITTY HAIR!” Bakugou screamed. Kirishima just laughed nervously as Bakugou continued to fume. After venting, Bakugou finally dropped Kirishima back on his feet and pressed the bridge of his nose with 2 fingers. “Okay. Why THE FUCK did you not tell her about the quirk?”

“Because man! .....Your quirk has built in viagra!” Kirishima said in defeat as he threw his hands in the air due to the pent up frustration. “I’ve had a fucking stiffy ever since I got put in your body! So I thought-“

“You thought you could relieve yourself with my girl?!” Bakugou asked with big, angry eyes.

“.....Yes?”

“KIRISHIMA!”

“ALRIGHT!” Kirishima sighed. “Well what now?”

“We go out there and explain to her what happened so you don’t end up fucking her!” Bakugou explained as he tried to walk back to you but Kirishima pulled him back.

“Okay but what about my fucking boner?” The pent up boy asked.

“Just rub it out!” Bakugou exclaimed.

“No way! I’m not touching your dick!” Kirishima rebelled.

“Why not? I’m clean. And big! Just saying, I got a pretty dick dude.” Bakugou said with both hands up in defense.

“BAKUGOU!”

“Yeah, fair.” The ex blonde said. The boys thought about it for a bit before something hit Kirishima like a train.

“Wait..if you’re so okay with me seeing your dick..does that mean..you took a look at mine?!” He asked while shaking Bakugou’s his shoulders.

“What?! Gross! No! I was napping all day Shitty Hair so relax! And get your damn hands offa’ me!” Bakugou said while squirming out of Kirishima’s hold.

“Alright, fine whatever! Let’s just go out and explain to L/N.” Kirishima said.

“Good!”

“Goooooodd!” Bakugou said more dramatically. The two boys finally made it back to you and instead of your boyfriend’s body taking a seat next to you, it remained standing. Meanwhile, “Kirishima” took the seat “Katsuki” previously had. You looked towards the red head and then to your boyfriend in a confused tilt.

“Suki? Are you gonna sit?” You asked to “Bakugou.”

“I am.” “Kirishima” replied. You looked towards the muscular boy sitting next to you with a raised brow.

“What?” You questioned.

“Listen, L/N, we got something to tell you.” The actual Kirishima said. You looked to your “boyfriend” with almost a hurt look on your face as to why he was calling you by your family name. The real Bakugou took notice of your sad voice and softened his eyes at your now upset demeanor. “I’m actually Kirishima...”

Your face grew in surprise and then silence hit the room. The boys gazed your looks for a reaction but got nothing other than pure shock. You couldn’t even say anything other than “Eh?!”

“Yeaahhhh..I’m your actual boyfriend.” The red head said. You looked to Kirishima and inspected him closer.

“Uh..Suki?” You said while zooming in of his face.

“Tch. It’s me Teddy Bear, relax,” Bakugou said while looked away with a blushed face as he pushed your face away. You grumbled at his push and took his hand off.

“Yup. That’s you.” You said, relaxing. “So...you’re Katsuki..and you’re Kirishima?”

You watched the boys nod their heads and you were settling down until another thought came to mind. “Wait..so I was-..on the couch-...I thought-...”

“Yeah, you were making out with Shitty Hair but in my body..” Bakugou said with a hand behind his neck. Your face jumped in shock once more until it was replaced with anger. You watched as Kirishima’s new face became nervous and gave a shaky chuckle.

“Kirishima...” you seethed with slanted eyes before you attempted to jump onto the new blonde. Mid-jump, Bakugou grabbed onto your waist and pulled you back onto his lap. You fought against Katsuki’s hold on you but alas he was too strong.

“Nope! No, settle, settle.” Bakugou said with an iron grip on your waist. You finally calmed down until you took notice you were sitting in BASICALLY Kirishima’s lap. Feeling uncomfortable you scooted off your boyfriend and sat next to him. Bakugou looked at you with a confused expression that demanded an explanation.

“Heh..sorry um, Suki. But I’m not sitting on you or doing...anything else that’s lovey dovey until you’re back to your own body.” You explained.

“Wha- that’s not fair! You were all over here grinding on him just a few minutes ago!” Bakugou whined and pointed at his body.

“Because I didn’t know it wasn’t you!” Bakugou just grumbled and groaned at you. Your reasoning was fair but he just wanted his girlfriend.

“Okay, whatever. Be pouty. Just- When is this quirk gonna wear off?” You asked. Bakugou continued to pout with crossed arms but luckily Kirishima answered.

“2 weeks.” He said.

“Alright then!” You said while clapping your hands and standing up, gathering Katsuki’s attention. “For the next 2 weeks or until you go back to normal, Suki, no touching, no kisses, no overly-friendly hugs, no cuddles, no lap-sitting....”

Bakugou listened to you list all the things he couldn’t do. As you went on, his jaw dropped as he realized he wouldn’t be able to do all the things he usually does to you for the next 2 weeks. The list went on and on until you finished it with one final detail. “...and finally. No sex.”

“WHAT?!” Bakugou said while standing up now. “WHY?!”

“Katsuki. I’m not fucking my boyfriend’s best friend’s body. No offense Kiri,” you said to the other boy.

“None taken!” He said with his winning smile. Just less shark-toothy. Bakugou just mumbled about until you cut him off.

“Anyways! I’m going to bed. After this long and frankly awkward day, I think we all should.” You said and the boys agreed. You all walked to your respected dorms but when Bakugou tried following you into your dorm while he was still in Kirishima’s body, you stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“Uh, sorry Suki. You’ll be sleeping in your own dorm for the next 2 weeks. No sleeping together either.” You watched as Bakugou became much more agitated as he huffed. He grumbled as he reluctantly walked all the way to his own dorm room. You giggled as you watched the now red head walk away and shut your door. You couldn’t help but laugh as you laid down on your bed but 10 minutes passed and before you could fall asleep, a knock was at your door.

“Suki, I said we can’t sleep on my bed together.” You said once you opened the door, finding Kirishima’s body holding a pillow and blanket.

“I know it’s just- *sigh* look, if I can’t cuddle with you can I at least sleep on the ground and hold your hand?” He said, looking away with an embarrassed blush. “I know you said hand-holding isn’t allowed but you won’t be seeing me since I’ll be out of your sight and on the ground.”

You smiled at how clingy he was being. It was adorable and you just had to give in. “Fine, come in.”

Katsuki perked up with a small smile and happily followed you into the room. You got comfy on the bed while he set up his little pillow and blanket. You finally dropped your hand down so he could hold onto it and his warm hand held a strong grip on your own.

So now here you were, late at night, “cuddling” with your boyfriend. In a way. You smiled as you held onto his hand and couldn’t help but giggle when you felt his lips place a sweet kiss to your knuckles. Oh well, I guess there was nothing wrong with holding hands with your boyfriend’s best friend. As long as it’s your boyfriend who’s in his best friend’s body.

You couldn’t believe this was gonna be your life for the next 2 weeks.

Tag list: @sxcker4you @aomi04

723 notes · View notes

dollslayer · 3 years

Text

Fight or Flight

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve comes clean, in the aftermath and shock you turn to the one person who you know you can trust.

W/C: 2,369

Warnings: Implied cheating, angst, swearing

A/N: Hello! I wrote this for @sweetlyscared 's 1k celebration (congrats, it's well deserved!), prompt is in bold. I'm still pretty new to writing and this is my first true Angst fic so any and all reblogs/comments are super appreciated! Please check out my other stuff if you liked this fic!! Cheers!

PART TWO I Masterlist

____

The feeling of everything crashing around you was slow. Like your world was moving in slow motion as you processed the words. Everything else he was saying became distorted, going to waste as he tried desperately to explain himself to you. All you could hear clearly was your own breathing while you tried to will yourself to do something, anything.

Fight or flight is a funny thing, you were always so feisty and eager to fight back, A Bulldog, Steve had affectionately called you. But when he told you he was in love with someone else, that he has been in love with someone else for months, your body couldn’t find anything in it but to walk away.

Your breathing picked up and your eyes searched the ground, refusing to meet his. You felt your legs raise you up to stand and start walking away, unsure of your destination. When you pivoted to leave the room your eyes met his briefly, staring emotionlessly as his desperately searched for anything at all in yours.

“Where are you going? Doll, please, can we talk about this? I’m, I’m so sorry I-”

Whatever else he was saying wasn’t heard over the noise of opening the door and shutting it behind you. You didn’t know where you were going or what you were feeling other than the obvious. You were in a state of shock, it’s one thing to hear awful news and another to understand that it’s true but you were fastly approaching that truth head-on.

You paused for a moment in the hall and heard no movement come after you. You almost let yourself be surprised but he’d admitted he gave up on you a long time ago, so it only makes sense he wouldn’t fight your exit. You kept walking and tried to hold the floodgates of your heart closed for a bit longer.

Flashes of what was said come back to you slowly as reality sets in. “I can’t put this off any longer. I want you to know that I will always love you, but there’s someone else.”

Your head hurt like it would as if you were already crying, the blood pumping in your ears and pressure building in your temples that would no doubt evoke a long-standing headache. Your face felt hot as you stepped into the elevator, maybe you’d go for a walk in an attempt to fend off your tears. Or maybe you’d walk to a safer place to have an emotional breakdown. Whichever is easier.

Brisk gusts of air greet you as you exit the building, making you realize you left your jacket on the arm of the couch. You took a second to evaluate yourself and noticed you’d also walked out in your house slippers and a thin pair of leggings. Trying to evade the cold you tucked yourself in the doorway of a bodega down the street and dialed Bucky.

Two rings and he picked up.

“Hello?”

“Did you know?”

The silence on the line only reminds you of the blood pumping in your ears. The silence tells you everything you needed to know.

“Liste-”

You hang up.

You’re breathing even harder now. Who else knew? For how long? How long was I the joke? You need to find somewhere else to be soon or all these strangers are going to get an eyeful of a grown woman sobbing. You dial the last number you’d expect to at a time like this.

“What’s happening, shortstack?”

You can hear Tony’s grin through the phone and his easy greeting gives you momentary comfort.

“Can I come over? Something happened.”

“I’ll let Jarvis know to let you in” Tony’s tone is understanding, not needing you to explain further, just letting you know you can come to him.

____

Tony’s only seven blocks from yours and Steve’s shared apartment, a fact you’re grateful for when you feel your feet aching every time they hit the pavement. The conversation replays in your head, you try to word what happened in your head and your anger starts overtaking the heartbreak. It’s almost a welcome reprieve from the settling heartbreak but you’re not sure if you’d rather be numb to it completely.

When the elevator doors open Tony’s waiting for you with two tumblers of scotch in hand. You shake your head and move past him to the couch. He joins you on the opposite armchair and sets both his elbows down on his spread knees, resting his face in his hands.

“Would you like to talk about it or not talk about it?” He asks with a sigh.

You don’t make eye contact with him so you don’t cry, choosing to focus on the Iron Man coffee table book you’d gotten as a gag gift for Tony all those Christmases ago. It almost distracts you enough to laugh, the fact that he just has it out. But you need to tell someone what happened and get it all out before you can let yourself feel it all.

“Steveisinlovewithsomeoneelse,” You rushed it all out in one breath afraid if you didn’t get it out fast enough that you’d break. “He has been for months. He said he doesn’t know when it all changed but when he was with her things just clicked,” you paused to collect yourself, “But don’t worry, I’ll always hold a special place in his heart and he hopes this won’t affect the future of the team or our friendship.”

“Oh, and he’s really sorry.” you added.

You laughed bitterly and shook your head in disbelief. His delivery had been so cold but so sincere, very to the point but pained in its delivery. “I just, whatever we had, it’s just gone. Things are just different now, with her, this kills me though, please believe me. You’re still really special to me.” Bullshit. Special enough to act as a placeholder until someone better comes, special enough to cast aside.

You’re broken momentarily from your spiral into anger by the sound of a glass hitting a coaster a little too hard. Looking up, you find Tony quietly seething. He and Steve aren’t close by any means so you figured that he wouldn’t have known, it’s why you called him over anyone else.

He moves slowly to your side on the couch and pulls you into his side. You can smell his aftershave and what you think might be burned grease from one of the many things he’s been tinkering with in the lab, it smells like him, like comfort.

“That fucking asshole. Unbelievable, I don’t even…” He leaves the thought unfinished.

His hands move up and down your arms in a soothing motion and you finally let yourself have it. You don’t even realize you’re crying until you feel the tears wet his shirt when you bury your face in. You sniffle up tears and snot when your face heats up.

There’s no way to know how long Tony lets you sob into him, no doubt ruining his vintage Depeche Mode shirt. Somewhere in the back of your mind you make a mental note to buy him a new one later. But for now you’ll just allow yourself to cry and you can deal with the world in the morning.

____

Tony lets you fall asleep on his chest, feeling somewhere between furious and heartbroken by proxy. He thinks about letting you sleep and giving Steve a piece of his mind but figures that’s not what you need right now. Your phone sits on the table and he touches the screen to check the time. No notifications on your homescreen except for a missed call from Bucky and an old photo of Steve making a funny face as your background.

Had Steve not even tried to call you? Had he not even tried to go after you? Why was Bucky of all people the only one to be trying to get a hold of you? Prick.

Selfishly Tony is glad that he has a good reason to be rude to Steve now, he has to admit. You two had always been close but when you and Steve started dating he saw less and less of you. He couldn’t fault you for it though, you were so in love with Steve and you knew that the relationship between the two of them was strained so you kept your distance a bit.

He thought of all the sacrifices you’d made for Steve. You gave up your childhood home in the Bronx that your parents had willed to you to move in with him because he wanted you to be closer to the tower. You gave up a promotion and transfer to DC when you were still just an agent, granted you were an avenger now but it doesn’t matter, he’d made a very big deal out of you turning it down. You gave up the friendship the two of you had.

It was incredible, really. How much you had done for him only for him to turn around and love someone else behind your back. Brave enough to fight aliens and terrorists but too cowardly to break up with you and leave you with some dignity. Did anyone else know about this?

Tony had to stop himself from getting too angry, afraid he’d wake you up. So instead he went back to plotting up schematics for the half-finished suit mod he’d been in the middle of when you called.

____

It’s been a week and you still haven’t properly talked to Steve. After two days on Tony’s couch you need to look at things from a logical stance. Where am I going to stay? It’s not like you had your parent’s place anymore and you didn’t want to sign a new lease on an apartment. You could always move into the tower but that meant a higher chance of running into Steve.

You were thinking about all of this out loud to Tony when he offered you the guest bedroom in his penthouse. You were shocked, he’s always been a generous man but after you drifted apart from him you were surprised he even let you stay these past few days. Maybe now was a good time to rebuild your friendship with him and have some space from work.

What’s work going to be like? You agree and go on a temporary leave from the team, just a month to collect yourself. If you really wanted to you could go back but the thought of seeing everyone that knew about Steve’s affair was humiliating and enraging in one go.

It turns out Sam had been playing therapist to Steve in all of this, Nat figured it out through some sleuthing, and Wanda had inadvertently heard his thoughts about her. And none of them thought to tell you? To save you from the anguish but to let it fester? Steve wasn’t the only one that betrayed you. They all had.

What will I say to him? Should I say anything to him? Turns out the answer was ‘nothing’. You texted him to let him know you were moving out and you’d be by to get your things as a courtesy. You walked into an empty apartment and you were almost relieved.

He’d chosen to not be here but he’d left you a letter on the kitchen counter next to a framed photo of the two of you on vacation last year. You scoff but don’t touch the letter. Every ounce of restraint you have is being used as you leave it untouched. But you don’t need to know what excuses or apologies he has on deck, nothing he could say would exonerate him of his wrong-doings. You had no intentions of speaking to him but secretly you hoped he suffered as he stewed in his guilt and inner-turmoil. He deserves to.

When you pack you leave every gift he ever gave you, taking only what you’d brought with you in the first place. You take one look at the unmade bed and almost go to make it out of habit but then you think of the two of them there together. All the long missions you went on without him, all the times you stayed late at work or went out with your friends. How many times had he been here with her while you were there?

You end up only leaving with two suitcases and a backpack full of things. Tony waits for you in the lobby, understanding you wanted your space when you went to get your things in case Steve was there.

The elevator doors open to him taking a selfie with a couple of fans and shaking hands. He’s all too happy to be recognized but when he sees you his eyes soften. Not out of pity, but fondness, like he’s proud of you for getting out.

He sends you a questioning look with a silent question. Are you okay?

You smile at him and for the first time in days it’s a genuine, non-placating, happy-to-see-you smile. It’s okay, I’ll be okay.

He takes one of your suitcases from you and helps you load them into the back of the car before opening the door for you. The drive back to Tony’s is silent but comfortable. The trust you have in each other is strong and unspoken. Something you’ve always been grateful for between the two of you.

He doesn’t ask you about Steve or what happened, always letting you come to him first, which you appreciate. And when you talk he just listens. No bullshit unsolicited advice about moving on or how everything happens for a reason or getting back out there, just listens.

You know the road ahead is long and it will be difficult, but you have someone in your corner and the knowledge that what happened isn’t your fault and that you’re a badass and fuck Steve Rogers and fuck anyone else that did you wrong in all of this. Maybe you’ll forgive them someday but for now you’re gonna focus on you and work on building yourself back up. You’re ready for the ups and downs, you’re ready to fight.

#sweetlysad1kchallenge #steve rogers x reader #tony stark & reader #steve rogers angst #angst #implied cheating #marvel fic #marvel au #marvel x reader

731 notes · View notes

yougotthatbilly · 3 years

Text

take care (m)

→ member: johnny seo

→ genre: assistant!johnny | smut

→ word count: 15.9k (not surprised atp)

→ playlist: body talk x majid jordan, warm x majid jordan, BoRdErSz x zayn, moment x victoria monét

→ warnings: slowburn, indecisiveness, v self-indulgent; unprofessional relations, big dick!johnny (ofc; don’t expect anything else), soft dom!johnny, begging (johnny’s a tease), subspace, oral; face-fucking, (and if you squint, ass eating), unprotected sex, squirting, praising, overstimulation, etc.

↳ summary: your assistant just wants to take care of you

The heavy rain outside mocks you. You were supposed to be at your favorite bar across the street, but here you are sitting at your desk, staring out your window. And that’s how Johnny finds you after being granted entrance into your office.

Your arm is propped up on the arm of your seat, cheek in hand, lips pouted. Johnny does his best not to smile at the thought of you looking adorable as not to piss you off. He just sets your cup of tea down on the coaster on the corner of your desk.

“How was the meeting?” he asks, taking a seat on the other side of your desk.

You slowly spin to face him, looking at him with annoyed eyes as you take a sip of your tea. It’s the perfect temperature—a temperature Johnny took almost a month to perfect— and sweetness, and it instantly makes you feel a little better.

“Don’t worry,” you sigh. “Jiyoung didn’t get fired.” You have a three-strike policy; this incident is the second strike.

“Jaehyun,” Johnny corrects, grinning.

You tilt your head at his correction. “I care?”

Johnny just shakes his head, knowing you’re being petty because Jaehyun got his dates wrong and uploaded a post on a few new products a week earlier than the scheduled date, resulting in having to speed things up a little. It didn’t cause a major problem because you’re typically prepared for the worst case scenario, but you don’t like feeling rushed and when things don’t go as planned, so you were pissed.

“What’s his punishment?”

“That’s between me and him,” you tell Johnny before taking another sip. Your lip curls in disgust at the suggestive look your assistant gives you. “Okay, let’s not be gross. He’s a child.”

“I didn’t know 23 was considered a child,” Johnny teases, mostly because the man of the hour has had a crush on you for the last year he’s been working for you and he’s been trying to get Johnny to talk him up to you.

“I didn’t know you wanted to get fired in his place,” you say with a tight smile. Johnny decides to switch the subject.

“Mind me asking why you looked so sad when I walked in?”

You sigh once more, slouching in your seat.

“I wanted to go to the bar…” You point to the window beside you. Johnny follows your finger and watches the storm that hasn’t let up since it started half an hour ago. “That’s not happening anytime soon.”

You’ve either been in your office working nonstop or sleeping for the last week or so and you can feel a burnout creeping up. You were going to walk to the bar to get the fresh air you needed, enjoy a drink and your favorite wings because you deserve it—especially after the headache Jaehyun caused the moment you stepped foot into your office this morning—and indulge yourself. Now look at you, hardly munching on the fruit slices Johnny gave you this morning and almost finished with your tea.

“I’m sorry things aren’t going the way you planned today.” Johnny pouts. “On the bright side, you don’t have anything else on your schedule so if you wanted to go home within the next hour, you wouldn’t fall behind.”

“I’ll probably just take a nap on the futon once I’m done looking over the new plan again.” You shrug.

Johnny wants to roll his eyes, but he catches himself. He’s sure you’ve already gone over it at least five times. There’s nothing he can do about it, though, so lifts himself out of his seat. “I’ll leave you to it. Just give me a call if something comes up or you change your mind.”

To both of your surprise, you actually head out and get yourself a candle you’d ran out of a week ago on the way home to treat yourself to a much needed bath filled with bubbles and essential oils. The scent of the candle reminds you of your assistant because it’s the scent he got you for your birthday, and it’s become your favorite.

You send a picture of the candle at the end of your tub to Johnny, thanking him again for putting you onto greatness, as he worded it before when you first smelled it in front of him and your eyes practically rolled back.

[18:14] John Suh: Are you actually relaxing???

You suck your teeth at his response, but you can’t blame him. He’s the only one that knows just how much you put in to get to the position you’re in, while you’re positive a lot of others just think it was handed to you by your mother instead of the school and endless hours work you went through and continue to go through. It’s very rare you give yourself the time to truly sit back and relax aside from when you’re on vacation. And even then, work never really stops. It just gets placed on the back burner for a little.

[18:16] you: Hush.

[18:17] John Suh: I’m just glad you’re taking care of yourself. Your dark circles have been snitching on you.

[18:17] you: Wow. You really wanna get fired today, huh?

[18:18] John Suh: Dark circles or not, you know you’re still beautiful. Now stop texting me and enjoy your bath!

When you find yourself smiling at your phone, you know you should do exactly what he says. Johnny’s always been a complimenter, though his usual kindness goes along the lines of telling you that you look nice. You’re no stranger to this specific compliment, you get it all the time on Instagram from your business partners and supporters. So why does this time settle differently within you?

[18:21] you: Nice save.

You need a video of one of your popular social media influencer ambassadors using and reviewing your newest skincare products tomorrow—due to Jaehyun’s mix-up—but that’s not happening. She didn’t record it before going on vacation and didn’t think to bring the products with her on her trip. While it isn’t her fault times have moved around, you’re annoyed she didn’t bring the products with her when she’s supposed to be using them every day because she’s one of your main advocates for your products being oily skin-friendly. You have the videos of the other models with their specific skin types, and this is your missing piece.

The weather is nice today, so you take a much-needed break from electronics and go to the roof of the building. Your peace is quickly interrupted by the body of a six-foot male in front of you, standing in the way of the sunlight you were basking in.

“I know you hate him right now,” Johnny begins, skipping over greetings to get to the point of his disruption. “But Jaehyun has oily skin, he’s been using the products you gave him for like three weeks, he really likes them, and he has a good following on Instagram.”

You take the phone handed to you begrudgingly and look at Jaehyun’s page. Thirteen thousand followers and quality pictures. You’re not blind, Jaehyun is conventionally attractive and looks like a model in the photos and boomerangs. Something is missing, though. “Eh.”

“‘Eh?’” Johnny parrots, confused. He doesn’t know a better last-minute model for you than Jaehyun.

“Something’s missing,” you explain with a shrug. You absentmindedly tap the profile icon at the bottom of the screen and Johnny’s Instagram profile pops up. The two of you follow each other, so it’s not like you’ve never seen his pictures, but it’s been a while since you actually paid attention to detail. He has eighteen thousand followers and apparently uploads his pictures following a color theme. There are pictures of himself, random people, and nature in a strategic flow. When you select a video to watch, you’re sold on the lighting, exposure, and the way he captured the woman’s features. “Sit.”

Johnny does so without any questions. You gently grab his jaw and study his face closely. His skin is supple and dewy, the sun highlighting his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. Not that his skin was bad before he started using your products, but the texture and scarring have minimized quite a bit. Johnny doesn’t have the typical, bland model face your competitors love so much, especially with the slight stubble he’s got above his top lip and on his chin.

“What’s your skin type, John?”

“Oily,” he sighs, knowing what’s coming next. He was doing his job as your assistant, trying to make your life easier, but now he wishes he would’ve left this task to the social media department and stayed out of it.

You thought so. “Will you do this for me instead?”

“Do I look like an influencer to you?”

“Yes. I’ll double your next check and everything,” you promise him. “You actually have a personality and everything you post is quality. Women will love the eye candy and all types of men will take you seriously because you don’t have that annoying pristine, perfect look to you like Jaeyoung does.”

Johnny is here to fulfill your needs, so he knows you asking is really just you being polite. He doesn’t have much of a choice, especially with the lack of time you have. He is enjoying the warmth of your hand and the fact you referred to him as ‘eye candy,’ too. And who is he to say no to extra money?

“I’ll have it recorded and edited by midnight,” Johnny smiles, giving you the hope you need.

“Ugh, you’re the best,” you sigh in relief, shaking his face side to side affectionately before letting him go to stand up. You feel much better now. “Send it directly to me.”

Johnny stands up with you and leads the way, opening the door for you. “Yes, ma’am.”

Always true to his word, Johnny emails you two links at a quarter-till, with a message attached:

Good evening,

I edited two videos for you, one short enough for a regular post on the company’s page and the other that could be used for my IGTV for my followers. I hope these meet your expectations, but if there’s anything you need me to fix or redo, let me know and I’ll get right to it.

Sincerely,

John Suh

You get comfortable in your bed with your iPad and tap the first link. You make sure the brightness and volume are high enough to get the full effect, then press play. The quality of the film makes you assume he used a professional camera instead of his phone, and he gets a point for that.

“Hey,” Johnny starts with an awkwardly endearing smile. “I know this is a little different than what I usually post, but I got scouted by the skincare goddess herself to be an ambassador for Surreal’s new line of skincare, Ethereal.”

You grin at the nickname and note that with him being in the bathroom, there’s no echo in his audio, and that gives him another point.

“I’ve been using the four of the five products I’m about to introduce to you everyday for around a month and before I do my skincare routine for you, I’ll show you what my skin looked like before I started using these products with dates so you don’t think I’m just trying to sell you on them just because she’s been writing my checks for the last year,” Johnny chuckles, then the screen shows a selfie Johnny took with the date of a month ago from today, some hyperpigmentation and small bumps dotting his cheek and jaw.

Another point for including before and afters. You knew he’d meet your expectations without you having to say much.

“I’ll get up close and personal at the end so you can really see the results,” Johnny winks into the camera, causing you to blink.

You knew he’d have personality and that was one of the main reasons he was a great idea, and while in hindsight his actions are predictable, you shake your head. The fact that he’s actually charming makes you scoff, but you’re sure that the damn wink only worked on you right now because it’s almost midnight and you should be asleep right now. You won’t act like he hasn’t always been nice on the eyes, but he’s Johnny.

You can’t deny that you do thoroughly enjoy the Johnny presented to you through the screen, though.

“The first product is an oil-based cleanser because the SPF in this collection is oil-based as well,” Johnny explains, then proceeds to show the jar and small spatula that comes with it before he scooped some out, capturing the texture of the product well.

And that’s how the rest of the video plays out, the unusually deep, gentle tone of Johnny’s voice explaining how well each product works for his oily and acne-prone skin, lulling you into a relaxed state against your headboard. He keeps things short and simple, the video just barely passing three minutes and as promised, his face comes a lot closer to the screen, showing the faded scarring and smooth texture of what used to be his problem areas. Johnny ends the video with a sweet smile and says goodbye. The shorter video is edited to where he’s hardly talking, mostly just demoing your products, just the way you like things to be on the company’s page.

You did great, John. Thanks again for doing this last minute. You can come in at 10 am tomorrow since I had you working overtime today. Rest well.

Johnny is at your desk with your morning cup of tea at eight in the morning, a bright smile on his face as he tells you good morning.

You glare at him. “Why are you here?”

“Because it’s my job?” Johnny says, pretending like he doesn’t know what you’re referring to. You can read him well, though. You take the mug out of his hand before gesturing for him to take a seat in front of you.

“You’re either being hard-headed as usual, or you’re anxious about your video being uploaded. Which is it?”

And that wipes the bright smile off of his face.

“I slept three hours last night,” he confesses. “I’m not used to this kind of exposure.”

You take a couple of sips of your tea and quietly observe him, thinking.

“Would you prefer we didn’t post it, then?”

Your assistant looks at you as if you didn’t just speak one of the languages he’s fluent in. You just blink at him and continue drinking your beverage, waiting for him to either say yes or no in case you need to make other plans, again.

“You’d do that for me?” he finally says after a while of staring at you like you’re crazy.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask slowly. “You’ve proven how far you’d go for me and I appreciate it, but I care about you as a person and anxiety is a bitch, so I wouldn’t want you to be panicking over Jaejoon’s mistake.”

The corner of Johnny’s lift curls at your continued pettiness, and maybe his heart does a thing at the fact that you care that much about him. It’s obvious to everyone that he is the closest to you out of all of your employees; being your assistant means you let your guard down a little with him. Along with the more serious side of your personality everyone else gets (especially recently), he sees your soft side. You’re not an overly strict boss, but Johnny gets to see you smile more and pout (he’d lose his job if he admitted to you how endearing your pout is to him). But even with the closer relationship the two of you have, Johnny would’ve never expected you to choose his stage fright over your baby; your company.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Johnny declines with a shake of his head. “I’ll be okay, I promise. Thank you for considering my feelings, though.”

You shrug, not about to press him on the issue. “Alright. I need you to post the IGTV at 2 pm and tag our page in an appropriate caption. I’d suggest you turn your notifications off for a while because as soon as you post it, it’s getting posted to our story then I’m sure you’re gonna get flooded with DM’s.”

“Flooded?’” Johnny asks, head tilted. “I mean, all I’ll have to do is copy and paste the same message answering any questions they might have about the products. Easy.”

You’re the one to look at him like he’s stupid this time. You set your mug down, lean back in your swivel chair, and clasp your hands over your stomach. “You can’t be that dense.”

“‘Dense?’” he asks.

“Are you a parrot?” you tsk. “But yes, dense. You know good and well most of the messages will have nothing to do with my products and everything to do with you.”

Johnny has the audacity to still be confused after your explanation.

“John, you realize you’re a good-looking guy with a likable personality, right?”

It’s not that he doesn’t know that. Johnny’s always been a pretty confident guy, with both his looks and personality. His confusion doesn’t stem from being blind or too humble. It’s the fact you of all people are telling him this right now.

“You think so?” he prompts, just to see how many compliments he can get out of you. This is a rare occasion.

“When you’re not being annoyingly happy-go-lucky and chill out, yes.” You reply. And now he’s pouting. That’s what he gets.

“I thought my cheerfulness brought joy to your days,” Johnny says with a dramatic hand on his heart, offended.

“What brings me joy is everything running smoothly and everyone doing their job,” you correct. He isn’t wrong, but you decide not to stroke his ego any more than you already have. And you’ve already said too much. “With that being said, you do everything I ask of you, and that brings me so much joy. You’re the perfect assistant, so don’t cry.”

“Is this your way of telling me to calm down?”

Your iPad buzzes against the wood of your desk and when you peek at it, you see it’s an email from Jaehyun with the subject: Today’s upload schedule.

“This is my way of telling you to get to work, honey.”

Johnny often finds himself slowly backing out of your office with his hands up in surrender, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He loves the distinct differences between the two of you. He figures it’s why you work so well together and why he’s held this job position for over a year in comparison to the two assistants before him that both got fired before the six-month mark. Johnny’s also positive that you love his excessively positive nature (as Jaehyun has described Johnny’s personality before) somewhere deep down and that he brightens your day after dealing with idiots like Jaehyun.

When your assistant is out of sight, you grab your iPad, respond to Jaehyun’s email, and find yourself rewatching today’s scheduled video. Maybe more than once.

The video is up at 2 pm sharp and Johnny does as advised, turning his Instagram notifications off immediately. He even goes as far as taking his phone off of vibrate so he isn’t aware of any other notifications until he decides to look at his phone again. He’s got things to organize anyway, so the work he has to do takes his mind off of any anxiety within him.

That is until you appear at the doorway of his office an hour later. This is a rare occurrence, so Johnny can’t be blamed for staring at you, and in the process, he appreciates the very fitted pantsuit you’re wearing. You took off the blazer sometime in between when Johnny left your office hours ago and now, and he thinks that the blush pink blouse compliments your complexion and red lips very well. But of course it does. Everything you wear compliments everything about you perfectly.

Just one of the many observations Johnny has made in the past year.

“How do you feel?” you ask him. Your voice is always so calm and collected, even when you’re ripping someone to shreds because of idiocy. Johnny admittedly admires that about you.

“I’ve done everything under the sun to avoid my phone,” Johnny confesses with a weak laugh.

You nod. “Well, just know that I’ve had multiple companies and modeling agencies ask why I’ve been hiding you. So don’t be surprised if you have job opportunities waiting for you.”

“Wow… this means I can finally quit,” Johnny hardly whispers with a victorious fist pump.

“I wish the hell you would,” you deadpan, breaking Johnny’s act and causing him to laugh loudly at the lack of expression paired with your response. “You’re mine unless there’s a tragic accident, God forbid, or you’re moving up in the ranks.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” you confirm, sending him a wink before turning on your heel and strutting back to your own office. Johnny licks his lips at the sight of the natural sway of your hips before shaking his head and getting back to working on the excel sheet staring at him.

“How is it that you all have the skills and training for the very simple tasks I ask you to complete, yet lack common sense and proper work ethic?”

Everyone in the room, excluding Johnny, just looks up at you from their seats, pitiful expressions on their faces. Their eyes follow you as you slowly walk to the other side of the room. You’re trying to stay calm and be professional, so pacing around the room is your best bet.

To Johnny, you look like you’re on a runway in slow motion, modeling the slim-fitting pencil skirt and red bottoms you’re adorning. Though still attentive to every word coming out of your mouth, Johnny lets himself get lost in each step you take because he’s not the one getting chewed out.

Mark, one of the newest additions to the marketing department, leans into Johnny’s side to whisper into his ear. “How have you managed to not fuck up and be on the receiving end of her talks yet?”

You don’t hear anything, but you see whispering happening, and now is not the time for side conversations. Johnny doesn’t even have the chance to turn to Mark or tell him to shut up until the end of the meeting before you’re speaking again.

“Mark Lee,” you call as you make your way towards him, causing him to sit up straight. “Is there something you’d like to say?”

“No, ma’am,” he responds nervously. Johnny internally shakes his head at Mark not being able to think quickly and lie. “My apologies.”

“Is there anything anyone wants to say or am I just a narcissist who loves talking to hear my lovely voice? Should I sing?” you ask, standing next to Johnny at the end of the conference table, hand on your hip. “Y’all want a performance?”

Johnny bites the inside of his cheek to refrain from laughing. Your sarcasm only intensifies the unsettled looks on everyone’s face and they all side-eye Jungwoo, their savior from the last time they got chewed out as a whole. Jungwoo raises his hand before saying, “There’s nothing we can say to excuse our actions—or lack thereof, but we will get right on it and do our jobs correctly this time. You won’t have to repeat yourself again.”

Johnny is impressed at how quickly your features soften. The ready-to-fire-someone look melts away as you nod at Jungwoo’s promise. You do have a bit of a soft spot for the latter, though, so it makes sense.

“I’ll take your word for it. You’re dismissed,” you announce, waving everyone off.

The room is empty, save for you and your assistant, in mere seconds.

“You’re going to give them nightmares,” Johnny chuckles, gathering your belongings before opening the door for you to exit the conference room. He laughs once more at your responding yawn.

“How? That was me on my best behavior,” you retort, your heels clicking loudly as you walk to the elevator. “And what was Lee whispering about?”

“Your employees are just amazed that I’ve kept you satisfied for so long.”

You walk into the elevator once the doors slide open and lean against the mirrored wall, arms crossed. Your eyes are squinted as you give Johnny a once over. He has done everything right since he completed his training. “You think you can keep me satisfied?”

There’s a challenging tone in your voice that causes Johnny to lick his lips. “I’d never disappoint you.”

Your response is a nod of your head paired with a drawn-out hum, and then you walk out of the elevator to your office once you hit your floor, walking ahead of Johnny without another word. You laugh at yourself when you replay the short conversation in your mind at the feeling you got in your gut at his response. And then you’re scoffing because, once again, it’s Johnny.

Johnny… Over six feet, amicable, charming, handsome as all hell Johnny. The scene of him licking his lips and saying those four words in that promising, deep voice in the elevator flashes through your mind once you’re seated at your desk. Your fingernail taps against the wood as you roll your lips together, stuck in your head. The ironic conclusion you come to before getting back to work is that you’re working way too much and just lacking male attention because there’s no other plausible reason for your goofy-ass assistant to have been on your mind so much for the last couple of days.

“Really?” Johnny asks when he walks in and sees you slumped over your desk.

Your eyes flutter open at his voice.

“I was just resting my eyes” you yawn, waving him off.

“What work is there possibly left for you to do at this point?” The products go on the market tomorrow, meaning all the work that had to be done in preparation for the launch was completed before everyone left today (the marketing department got their shit together quickly because they know about your policy and how unforgiving you are when the deadline is right around the corner). The only thing left for your marketing team to do tomorrow is look over everything once more and then you’re free to sit back and wait for customers to buy the new products and idly watch over social media if you really wanted to. It frustrates Johnny that you always find something extra to do.

“I was doing some last minute, um”— another yawn —“touches on the-”

“Well, that’s enough,” Johnny interrupts your explanation, walking around to your side of the desk and plucking the pen out of your hand.

You just nod and lean back in your ridiculously big swivel chair, blinking up at him slowly, because he’s right. There’s literally nothing else for you to do and you have the most full coverage concealer under your eyes; you need to rest.

“Am I driving you home tonight?” He asks as he packs your belongings into the massive purse on the box by your feet then places it on your desk so he doesn’t have to bend back down to retrieve it.

“Yeah, I don’t feel like moving,” you mumble, thankful you spent so much money on the chair you’re oh-so comfortable in.

Johnny puts his hands out for you to grab, and once you do so, he pulls you up. You groan and lean forward into him to catch your balance after not being on your feet for many hours, but then Johnny’s hand on firm on the middle of your lower back, and the pressure makes you stay. He’s just helping you steady yourself, a position you’ve been in once or twice before because you like to push your limits (says both your therapist and your assistant), but he smells good and he’s warm; his presence is comforting. It always has been, which is why he’s made the perfect assistant for you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking down at the top of your head that simply nods in response.

“Think I pushed my limit,” you admit, much to your assistant’s surprise. It’s not that you’re prideful, but you don’t exactly like showing weakness, especially in front of your employees.

Though tempted to just let you rest your head on his chest because he doesn’t mind the proximity at all and knows you’re somehow comfortable, Johnny makes sure you’re standing steadily by yourself so he can drape your coat over your shoulders. He grabs your purse and wraps an arm around your waist then guides you out of your office, all the way to the parking garage, saying goodbye to the confused cleaning staff on his way out.

He presses the button on the handle of the passenger side’s door to unlock it, opens the door, then fits you inside of his car. Johnny leans over your body to buckle your seat belt, and when he’s back away, he catches you looking at him with a look he can’t quite decipher.

“What’s up?”

You shake your head and blink slowly. “I just really appreciate you, John.”

Johnny just nods to save face and closes the door before making his way to the driver’s seat. He’s not quite sure how to feel or respond to the soft-spoken, sleepy side of you since it’s been months since the one other time you’ve been in a similar situation, and he wasn’t as smitten as he is now.

You’re fighting your sleep because even though you trust Johnny, you want to be as aware during this trip to your house. It’s a hard feat, though. His car is big and comfortable and the hum of the engine is trying to lull you into a deep sleep.

Johnny looks over at you after getting on the main road and notices your internal fight.

“You can fall asleep, you know.”

“You might take my organs.”

“I would’ve done that a long time ago if I wanted to,” Johnny humors you. His response brings a small smile to your face, and that keeps a smile on his own.

“You have a really pretty smile, John.”

“Thank you,” Johnny says, figuring it’s just your exhaustion talking.

“I’m almost jealous of how pretty your lips are,” you sigh, mouth not filtering your thoughts at this point of exhaustion (you’ve gotten 10 hours of sleep in the last week, but no one, especially not Johnny, needs to know that). You don’t care enough to try to “correct” yourself because the pretty curl of his lips gets even deeper.

“Really?” Johnny asks, trying his luck again because he’s sure tonight isn’t like the other day in your office. “You think my lips are pretty?”

You hum and cuddle into his seat even more. After staring at his profile a while longer, you tell him, “I think you’re pretty.”

That makes him laugh again, taken aback at the string of compliments coming out of your mouth towards him of all people. It’s not that you’re mean or don’t applaud him for his great work, but this is a very different side of you that he’s seeing. He likes it.

“That’s a first, but I’ll take it,” he says, taking a moment to look at you again before focusing on the road again. “Thank you.”

“Are you used to hearing ‘handsome?’ ‘Fine?’ ‘Sexy?’” You notice how Johnny’s brows lift. “Too far?”

He shakes his head. “No, you’re good. I like you when you’re nice.”

“You like me regardless,” you say with a sassy scoff, pretending to flip your hair even though it’s slicked back in a low bun, the same as every workday.

Johnny nods slowly, contemplating if he should humor you or just laugh you off. It literally takes him 0.5 seconds to go with the former option because he’s been waiting for the day the two of you step out of professional talk and get into something more personal, specifically between the two of you. “You got me there. I mean, what isn’t there to like?”

Your eyes squint as you analyze him and process his words. There’s a subtle but still very noticeable shift in the air after his question, and while you’re sure it’s your fault for letting your exhaustion let you feel comfortable enough to open your mouth and start spewing out nice things to your assistant, his response is enough to keep it up. It also doesn't help that this is a far more intimate setting than work.

“Be careful, you keep saying things like that and I’ll think you have a crush on me,” you tease him, chuckling at the snort he responds with.

Before Johnny snitches on himself, he flips the script. “Says the one staring at my lips long enough to deem them ‘pretty’ and calling me pretty, of all things.”

“Well,” you start as your gaze goes right back to his mouth at the mention of it. “It would be unprofessional of me to tell you that I think you’re fine as hell, so,” you shrug.

You and Johnny have always had a bit of banter between the two of you, and while this topic isn’t something that’s been covered before, it’s hard to really care when you feel comfortable enough to cross that line right now. If he hadn’t been playing along, you wouldn’t have said anything more than the simple compliment from earlier, but with the reciprocity, the logical voice within gets pushed away. Exhaustion isn’t much of an excuse at this point because that high from tiredness has passed.

The timing of the traffic light turning red is a little too perfect. Johnny takes the opportunity to look at you again, and something lights up in his chest when he catches how your eyes travel up from his mouth to look into his own eyes at his attention.

“It would be unprofessional,” he agrees with another nod of his head. “But I can’t say the feeling isn’t mutual.”

You hum and nod. “Good to know.”

“You must not be sleeping well for you to be throwing out compliments like that.” Johnny leans onto the middle counsel.

“I’m not saying anything I haven’t thought of for a while.” You tell him after a beat, choosing to reply honestly since you’re already here. Johnny quirks a brow to prompt you to elaborate, and you do so, mirroring his position and propping your chin in your hand. His face is a lot closer now, but you keep your eyes on his own orbs to avoid losing focus. “I hired you because of your experience and skill set, but I knew it wouldn’t hurt to have some eye-candy around me. Pretty privilege and all,” you wave a nonchalant hand. “You were perfect until you opened your mouth.”

“You can never be nice to me for long, can you?” he snorts.

“You’re perfect tonight, though,” you add on, specifically for the quirk of Johnny’s mouth that comes from the praise. Yeah, you failed the challenge.

“How so?” Johnny questions, quickly checking to see if the light has changed yet. It hasn’t, and for once in his life he’s grateful for a long light. He feels good about where this conversation could possibly get him after a year of silently admiring you, so good that he not-so-subtly gets even closer, definitely in your bubble, but nothing too crazy.

“You’re calm and collected and taking care of me,” you admit. The silent deep breath you take to calm yourself grants you access to the scent of Johnny’s cologne again, and your mind is so close to deciding that logic is unnecessary. A tiny voice in the back of your mind has been trying to get your attention and steer you in the opposite direction of the one you’ve decided to take, with how you tilt your head up to get just a little closer to him.

“You like being taken care of?”

“I love it,” you confess, and Johnny takes the chance to tuck a stray hair behind your ear as he hums, content with your response. Definitely an excuse to test the waters and see how far he can go and how willing you are to really cross this line. You turn your face into his hand so he cups your jaw, but then there’s a horn sounding behind you because the light is green, and Johnny begrudgingly has to pay attention to the road. You blink, the trance you found yourself in with him so close but so far away dissipating, the situation becoming a lot more real now that he’s out of your space. You slump back into your seat and look out of the window, that voice becoming louder and grounding you as you take another deep breath. “But allowing myself to be vulnerable with someone like that? Yikes.”

He knows your defense mechanism is trying to kick in, but he’s not having it.

“Aside from me?”

You hum. “Not quite…”

You set yourself up. From that moment in the elevator to now, you’ve been digging your own grave, and Johnny has done nothing but assist you, encourage you to dig deeper. You’re not sleepy anymore, there’s no more foggy brain from earlier when he found you asleep in the office. Just desire you’ve done a grand job of ignoring up until the last few days. But unfortunately, you have to remind yourself you’ve been ignoring it for a reason.

Your assistant almost doesn’t say anything because he loves his job and you clearly switched the direction of the conversation for a reason, but so much (yet so little) has already been said during your time in the car and you’ve already said enough to get the gears in his head turning.

“So you mean a different type of care?”Johnny asks. He pulls into your driveway and parks. He wants to get back to the space the two of you were at when stopped at that light, but you’re already unbuckling your seat belt and grabbing your purse, signifying that the moment is long gone. That doesn’t stop him from trying, though. “Do you need me to walk you in?”

“I think I’ve got it now, thanks.” You need to get inside and get some sleep. Are you running right now? Of course. You’re a responsible person and the most responsible thing for you to do as the woman that signs his paychecks, is to get the fuck away from him before he persuades you, because you both know it’s possible.

“Let me rephrase that:” he licks his pretty lips and your fist balls up around your purse’s straps. “Do you want me to walk you in? I know you didn’t need me to do most of what I’ve done tonight, but you let me because you wanted me to.” His ability to read you so well is both a blessing and a curse. “Now would you like for me to continue taking care of you tonight or not?”

You do. You absolutely do. You’re tempted to say yes in the case you don’t end up alone tonight, but you know it’s not a good idea. And you’re sure the atmosphere of this car ride will disappear by the time you wake up. At least that’s what you tell yourself because you know, ethics.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you tell Johnny, opening the door and stepping out. “Thanks for the ride. Drive safe.”

Johnny watches you walk up to your door, unlock it, then disappear into your house. He lets out a deep sigh before backing out of your driveway and driving home.

Tea, fruit slices, and avocado toast are set down in front of you the moment you walk behind your desk.

“Good morning,” Johnny greets you calmly. “Your eleven o’clock meeting has been pushed back thirty minutes, so I’d suggest using the opportunity to get out of the building and get some fresh air. You know, get away from electronics and people to recharge.”

That’s exactly what you’ll do. You’re going to be monitoring the Instagram engagement and website sales for a while, even though you pay people to be on top of numbers, so a break will definitely be needed.

“I love your brain, you know that?” you ask, looking up at him once your jacket and bag are off of your body, meeting his eye. The corner of Johnny’s mouth twitches.

“I told you I’d never disappoint you.”

“And I’m holding you to that.” You ignore the fact that there’s definitely another meaning behind his words. You can’t say the tension that last night’s conversation produced has gone away completely, but it’s weak enough for you to ignore it and stick to the amicable atmosphere the two of you have built for the last year plus.

“Would it be alright if I accompanied you during your walk?” Johnny prompts after a moment of him just standing there, pursing his lips together to refrain himself from grinning at you. “There’s something I’d like to run by you because I trust your opinion as my boss and my friend.”

“We’re friends?” you joke, settling into your seat.

“Last time I checked,” he responds, unfazed. “We could be even closer if you let yourself be vulnerable with me.”

And there it is.

“John,” you say after a brief pause. He’s got his hands in his pockets, face mostly void of emotion. Johnny doesn’t want things to go back to normal, and he’s decided to let you know in the most subtle, yet obvious way. Why ignore the feeling when it’s clearly mutual?

“Yes, boss?”

“You can leave now.”

The grin on the male’s face falters. He examines you to see just how serious you are, and he knows this isn’t one of your playful banter moments. He tries to call your name, either to ease the situation and tell you it was just a bad joke or to apologize, but you just remove your attention from him and get on your iPad.

And when he’s out of the room, the door closed behind him, you let out a frustrated sigh. Up until you fell asleep, if you weren’t thinking about your launch, you were thinking about him. If you weren’t thinking about the numbers from your last launch and the possibility of exceeding them, you were thinking of the way you felt and the words he said while you were in that intimate bubble before the horn honked at him. You had to take a couple melatonin gummies to shut your mind up and knock out. The sleep was amazing, the best you’d had in a while, but then when you were conscious again, Johnny was back.

You could have done without stepping into uncharted territory last night. To him, it may not seem as deep as you’re making it out to be, but there’s too much on the line for you. Your professionalism. Your pride. Your job, quite possibly. His job. You could pay him off if you decided to fire him, but you don’t want to deal with bribes making you feel like a shitty person. You don’t want a new assistant. You want Johnny.

At that very last thought, you pick up the phone and call Jaehyun to have him run the plan by you one more time. He thinks it’s because of his fuck up from before, and you just let him think that.

Thankfully, Johnny is out of your way until later in the night. He didn’t try to accompany you on your walk, but he has no choice but to be here at the company outing taking place to celebrate your products selling out within 4 hours.

All shots are on you, so your employees are taking advantage of this, recording as everyone clinks their shot glasses together and downs the painful alcohol down. You’re two shots in and you mentally note that three is your limit for tonight. Maybe four. You’re already a bit of a lightweight, and there’s no way in hell you’re going to make a fool of yourself in front of your employees. Regardless, you’re having a pretty good time. As a gift, your best friend rented out the bar, so it’s empty save for your large group, and Joohyun’s presence is a godsend. She’s being friendly enough to your employees and for the most part she hasn’t left your side, being the comfort she doesn’t realize you need.

“Congrats again, babe,” she says excitedly to you, pushing another shot in front of you as she scoots into the seat next to you. “Can we take that vacation in Bora Bora now that you’re free and even richer?” Her teasing smile makes you crack one of your own and sigh.

“You know that trip is for August. Be patient, Bae.”

She rolls her eyes but her expression doesn’t falter. Her gaze wanders a bit as she sips from her mixed drink and then she’s looking at you expectantly. You raise a brow to prompt her.

“How is it that all of your employees are hot as fuck?” she asks bluntly. “Even the women.”

You take a glance around like you don’t remember what everyone looks like. “I mean, I guess.”

“Especially a certain assistant.”

“Go for it,” you tell her, nodding in his direction. The said male is at the bar ordering something with his arm draped over Jaehyun’s shoulders, the two of them laughing about whatever the latter just said.

“You know that’s not why I said that,” Joohyun scoffs, swatting at your arm. You may have mentioned to her a while ago that your assistant is very nice on the eyes and you sometimes enjoy watching him as he does his job. “Plus, Jaehyun’s more my type.”

You shrug. “I’m sure they’d be down for a threesome.”

Your best friend hits you once again. “What’s with your mood? You’re not acting like someone who just sold out in only a few hours.”

Before she decided to bring a certain assistant up, you were doing pretty well. You’d been able to not look at him for too long or even have to speak to him much aside from a greeting and his congratulations before he was by Jaehyun’s side and Joohyun was by yours. But now, with him being mentioned, your eyes are having a hard time pulling away from his figure. His tie is loosened and the top few buttons of his shirt are undone. His sleeves are rolled up right under his elbows and show off the tattoo on his arm.

You rip your eyes off of him and down your shot. Yeah, you’re thinking four.

Joohyun’s incredulous laugh brings your attention back to her. “You didn’t.”

“What?”

She leans into your side to whisper, “You’re in a mood because of Johnny?”

You side-eye her because you don’t like how quickly she read you, and her smile grows wide.

“Oh, my—you slept with Johnny?!” she continues to whisper-yell.

“No,” you hiss. “I did not. But I could have and that’s the issue.”

“Not seeing the issue?” She’s always been the little devil on your left shoulder. “The only reason I brought him up is because I’ve noticed how often you have his attention when you’re not even in the same area. And I know the difference between a look of concern and a look of want. He’s got a good ratio of both going on.”

“Okay, Miss Couple’s Therapist,” you mutter. “You ever heard of conflict of interest?”

And that shuts her up. Only for a few seconds, though.

“All I’m saying is I know you’ve thought about it… and you’re probably thinking about it now,” she giggles, making it hard for you to keep glaring at her. “I’m just trying to help you understand that it wouldn’t be a bad thing if there is a mutual understanding between the two of you on what flies and what cannot and shall not happen regarding the matter. You’re both consenting adults and it’s obvious he’d be on his knees for you with the snap of a finger.”

You decide against telling her about last night’s situation nor do you let her know you’re considering her words. That you’ve been considering the whole thing for days.

You change the subject instead, asking her about how her latest trip overseas went.

It lasts for only so long when Johnny and Jaehyun make their way over to your table.

They greet the two of you and you give a nod, choosing now to be the perfect time to check your notifications, while Joohyun says, “Hey guys.”

“Why are you checking your phone when you should be enjoying your time?” Johnny asks right by your ear, his voice lacking excitement but instead low enough to almost make your thumb falter as you scroll. “Get off your phone and celebrate, please?”

You make the mistake of looking up. He’s too close to your face to use the music playing through the speakers in the bar as an excuse. His eyes don’t have their usual playful glint in them. They look down at you with a purpose, and you’re kind of embarrassed at how fast you comply with his request. You drop the device into your purse and zip it up for extra measures.

“Thank you,” he smiles. “I got this for you two, by the way.”

Johnny slides a plate of your favorite wings on the table.

“Aw thank you, Johnny,” Joohyun coos, shooting you an annoyingly smug glance. “Are you gonna sit with us?”

“Is that okay with you, boss?” Jaehyun asks after sharing a look with his friend.

“Have at it,” you smile tightly, gesturing to the seats across from you. While they make themselves comfortable, you steal your best friend’s shot and actively ignore the way she looks at you from the corner of her eye.

Joohyun and Jaehyun fall into conversation easily after she compliments the watch he’s wearing. You nibble on some celery, actively ignoring how Johnny’s still too close. He subtly squeezes your knee to get your attention, and when he’s got it, he tilts his head in the direction of the bar.

“I drank enough,” you tell him with a shake of your head.

“It’s not about a drink. I would like to speak to you alone, please,” Johnny explains in a whisper. A tiny voice in your mind says hell no because of what Joohyun has put in your head, but the rational voice reminds you that he is your assistant and you can’t avoid him forever.

You tell your best friend that you’re gonna get a drink and that you’ll be back, and when she notices Johnny getting up with you she nods with a whisper of a smirk on her lips all without breaking the conversation she’s having.

“What’s up?” you ask once seated on a barstool, at least a few seats away from everyone else.

“I’m sorry about earlier. I was trying to make light of the situation and I took it too far. As for last night, it was wrong of me to make a proposition like, so I want to apologize for that, as well.”

You nod as he speaks, letting his words process in your brain.

“I spoke out of line last night and gave you an opening, so that part was on me. I apologize and I hope we can move forward from it. Thank you for your apology.” You try to get up and make your way back to your table quickly, but Johnny gently grabs your hand until he knows you’ll stay in your seat.

For a moment he wanted to just apologize so you can stop being distant with him and he can stop purposely avoiding you for your space, but your response rubs him the wrong way and now he doesn’t really want to drop it. He wants to talk about it because the topic clearly came up for a reason last night and he’s tired of denying how he feels towards you, especially now that he knows he’s not alone after a while of thinking there was no way in hell his little crush would even get him this far.

“Can you not shut me out right now?”

You really don’t like his ability to see through you.

“I accepted your apology and gave you the one you deserved... how am I shutting you out?” you bullshit him anyway.

“I’m not gonna pretend that what happened last night didn’t happen. I can’t,” Johnny tells you honestly. “Can I speak to you as a friend instead of your employee for a moment?”

“I guess,” you shrug.

“As your friend, what I say cannot be held against me as your assistant.”

“Whatever, John. Go ahead.”

“I want you,” he confesses, and there’s really no going back from here. “I am very attracted to you and when you spoke about wanting to be vulnerable and taken care of last night it only made me want you more. And if there’s anyone you can let your guard down with and that will take great care of you, it’s me, and you know this.”

All you can do is stare at him for a while. If you hadn’t had that conversation with Joohyun a while ago you would not still be in this seat, letting him know you’re truly considering his proposition. The dip in your gut at his confession confirms your feelings, but your brain and your body conflict.

Can you separate business from pleasure in this instance?

If you allow your desires to become reality and it’s nothing like what you imagined, you’d never be able to look at him the same, no matter how good he is at his job. You’d either have to fire him or become so distant he’d want to quit. Would a bribe really have to be offered for the well-being of your precious company? The thought alone rubs you the wrong way.

But if you’re being honest with yourself, you just know it wouldn’t be a bad experience because it’s Johnny. He’s calculated and good at anything that gets thrown at him. You truly believe him when he says he’d never disappoint you. But how will you go about seeing him five days a week without seeing him in a different light? You’re professional but there would definitely be a change in your dynamic.

“I adore you as my assistant, John,” you finally speak up after too long. “And I do consider you a friend. I just don’t want to compromise our relationship over lust.”

“It’s not just lust, though,” Johnny states. “I’m not in love with you or anything but I care about you and want to take care of you the way we both know you need and deserve.”

He’s saying all of the right things and it’s almost as if the universe is rubbing him in your face. Your control is slipping and you don’t like it. You would love to be taken care of. You crave it. Running a business right before the age of thirty comes with so much stress and bullshit and you haven’t been taken care of in years, at least not properly. You’re content with being single because you give yourself everything you need and you love having your own space, but it does get lonely sometimes. And you can’t do everything yourself, at least not to the extent you need. Your eyes scan down from his face to his hands and your resolve gets a little weaker.

“I’m not going to push you, okay? I just had to let you know that I’m here to help you in many more ways than in the office and that if anything were to ever happen, my lips are sealed. I’d even sign a damn contract if that meant I could have you for just one whole day.”

“A whole day?” you ask before you can stop your curiosity from being known.

“I can’t elaborate on that. I can talk to you as a friend all I want but I know that too much detail can fuck up my job if you’re not down and I’m perfectly content with my job right now.”

He’s so vague, yet he’s said just the right amount. It’s easy to imagine what exactly could be in store if you release your inhibitions and just agree, but it’s not that easy. And Johnny understands that.

“Just think about it, alright?” He requests, and you nod slowly. “What drink would you like?”

“I’ve already had four shots—”

“No one said it had to be alcoholic,” Johnny laughs.

“Hello?” Johnny’s morning voice grumbles.

“Okay.”

It’s quiet on the other end of the line for a while as Johnny wakes up and decodes your single word. When he understands, his smile can be heard through his next words.

“Would you prefer I go to you or you come here?”

“I’ll go to you.”

“How does noon sound?”

“Good,” you nod, even though he can’t see the movement.

“Alright. There’s a couple of questions I have before you come over, though,” he tells you, his voice suddenly a lot more serious than it was before.

“Okay, go ahead,” you sigh, curling into a ball on your sofa.

“Do you trust me?”

“I do.” Of course you trust him. Johnny smiles at how quick your answer. “You know that.”

“Trusting me with your work and trusting me with your mind and body are completely different things,” he tells you matter-of-factly. “But yes, I did know. I just needed to ask.”

“I clearly trust you enough to be hours away from going to your place without thinking you’re gonna exploit or blackmail me.”

“And I appreciate it. As I said, I’ll sign a contract if you’re still in your head about it.” At the dismissive response you give him, he continues with his questions. “We’re not gonna be weird about this before, during, and especially after everything, right?”

“No, I won’t be weird,” you chuckle, knowing his ‘we’ translates to ‘you.’ “It would’ve took me way longer to give you an answer if I was still gonna be weird or standoffish.”

“What made you change your mind so quickly?”

You blink at the tree on the other side of your window blankly. It took less than a day to give him a response, and while he may have popped up in your dream last night, Joohyun was right. You want him and he’s not shy about letting you know how much he wants you in return, so why play this game of tiptoeing and faux unclarity?

“You’re asking too many questions now,” you deadpan. “I’ll see you later.”

The last thing you hear before you hang up is Johnny laughing quietly to himself, sounding endeared.

You’ve always been punctual, so when you knock on his door, it’s twelve on the dot. And Johnny was expecting this, with it only taking him a couple of seconds to unlock and open the door for you.

“Hey,” he greets you with a smile and you immediately take in his appearance, having never been around Johnny in anything but formal wear. You take in how he looks in the comfort of his own home, his brown hair is parted down the middle in comparison to how he always has it pushed back, and his fitted white tee shirt and joggers are a stark difference from the button-downs and slacks he usually adorns around you. He looks good either way, you note.

“Hey.”

You walk past him into his home and take your shoes off, and while pleasantries are exchanged, it’s Johnny’s turn to give you elevator eyes. The grey color of your athletic wear draws attention to the curve of your ass and hips. Your hair isn’t in its signature style, but out and flowing about freely. When you turn back around to face him he notices you don’t have your typical red lipstick on, just a clear sheen covering your lips. He didn’t think you could look any better, but here he is, being proven wrong.

You’re guided down a hallway and into his room, and the first thing you notice is a cute stuffed animal on his dresser. One you remember buying him for his birthday because that was his only request, seeing that it was limited edition.

“I still can’t believe you wanted this of all things,” you laugh fondly, picking it up and examining it.

“You gave me a budget and this fit in it,” Johnny shrugs, coming up behind you. His chest molds into your back naturally, causing you to look up from the plushie and up at him through the mirror in front of you. “There was no way in hell I was coming out of pocket for that myself when you were willing to spend big bucks on me.”

You relax into his chest, the vibration against your back a very pleasant feeling. “Touché.”

The last few days of building sexual frustration did nothing to prepare you for the suffocating blanket of tension that envelopes you once Johnny lifts your head up to the side and presses one of the gentlest kisses to your lips. Followed by another chaste one, and another until you find yourself chasing his lips.

“Feel free to bite into it when it becomes too much for you,” Johnny graciously offers in a whisper that tickles your lips.

You scoff, amused by his confidence.

“I’m a grown ass woman,” you remind him. “I promise you there’s nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“And I’m gonna hold you to that.” He nods, using your own words against you. You’re turned around by his hands on your hips until you’re facing him. A moment of silent eye contact translate to him challenging you before his pretty, soft lips slowly slide in time with yours.

The longer he kisses you, the more your body melts into his. You find yourself being pulled forward, him walking backwards. The kiss interrupted when he sits down at the foot of his bed, but then you’re pulled onto his lap, straddling him to resume it. A hand on the side of his face prompts him to deepen the kiss, and your mouth instantly opens when you feel his tongue brush against your bottom lip, the wet muscle minty when it touches your own and you curl yours around it to get an even better taste.

Your hands find his hair as his own grip your ass, pulling a muffled whimper out of you. And then you’re flipped onto your back, legs falling apart to give Johnny freedom to stand. He swiftly takes his shirt off and then he’s interrupted by your palms glide up his abdomen. You’ve never felt small around practically anyone in your adult years, but with how he hovers over you, you feel tiny. You know he and Jaehyun have been going to the gym frequently, but at this angle, you can really appreciate just how big and broad he is.

Originally, you figured you’d give him the reign to do whatever he wanted and you’d bask in being a pillow princess for once in your life, but in the position you’ve found yourself in, with his print in your face, you drag your hands back south and tug his waistband down.

Johnny just watches you silently until he understands you’re doing more than just assisting him with stripping. Your hand grabs hold of his semi (your mouth waters at how hung he is and you briefly wonder how you never noticed before), his sweatpants forgotten halfway down his thighs. The way your eyes have tunnel vision and you lick your lips tells him your plan. “You wanna suck my dick?” he asks anyway, making sure he accessed this correctly.

Your eyes fly up to meet his gaze. “Yeah. You want me to?”

“You think I’d ever say no to you?”

His response goes straight in between your legs, so you focus your attention back on his dick, which has grown some during the time of your small interaction, and you might be a little more excited about this than you initially thought you’d be.

You let spit fall from your mouth onto his tip, then spread it down with your hand. You flick your wrist up and down a few times and lean forward, licking a broad stripe up his shaft. At the deep exhale he releases, you glance up at him through your lashes, and the sight of him with his jaw tightened in anticipation makes you want to give him so much more, so you suck the tip into your mouth.

Fingers move your hair behind your ear for you and if you still had any inhibitions at this point, they’re lost now. Your head bobs back and forth slowly as you continue to look him in his eyes; it’s hard to look anywhere else when you’ve never been looked at so intensely in this position. You gather spit on the tip of your tongue and spread it across his head, circling the wet muscle around it until he hums and you need to feel the weight of him back inside.

“Tap my leg, okay?”

You furrow your brows at his words, but your silent question is answered when there’s a hand on the back of your head and the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat lightly as if in warning before his hips pull back then he’s back in your throat. Your hands come up to his thighs as he sets a slow pace to fuck your face, and when his head falls back the moment he realizes he can go as far as he wants, you close your eyes and prepare for the onslaught you know you’re about to take.

Johnny’s hips instantly pick up speed and roughness, and while he’s still in control of himself, he loses a bit of sanity. After a year of silent pining and thinking this would never happen, he’s fucking his boss's face, and of course, of fucking course you don’t have a gag reflex.

You stick your tongue out flat to lick at the bottom of his shaft as he does the rest of the work and the feeling of spit bubbling out the sides of your mouth and making its way down your chin digs your fingers into his skin since you can’t clench your thighs together. Your hair is gathered for extra leverage, and the pull of your scalp is such a delicious feeling you moan helplessly just when your nose comes in contact with trimmed hairs.

“Shit,” he hisses, picking his head back up to watch as he slows back down but thrusts in rougher. You clearly enjoy being used like this, spit traveling down your chin to the point of landing on your jacket and darkening the material. You’re a mess in the best possible way, and this is an image that will haunt his memory for a very long time.

More of his resolve crumbles at the feeling of your hands curling around to his butt to press him even closer into you, even further down your throat. You haven’t even been touched, barely kissed, but you’re lightheaded and extremely aroused. While he contemplates if he should cum down your throat or wait until he’s buried in your pussy, you’re silently hoping he lets you taste him soon.

Johnny drags his dick out of your mouth at an extremely slow pace, and how you wrap your lips around him and open your hooded, darkened eyes to look at him again shoots a shiver of pleasure up his spine.

“Never would’ve thought,” he says around an amused exhale.

“Hm?” you prompt, releasing him with a loud pop.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. He grips his dick with his free hand and taps the tip on your awaiting tongue, amused and extremely turned on. Smearing fluids over your tongue and lips, he softly demands: “Play with your pussy for me.”

The smile you give him is a concoction of wicked and endearing. He releases your hair as you manage to wiggle out of your leggings. You soaked through your lace and leggings, you both notice, and Johnny stops you with a disapproving hum when you make a move to remove your panties as well. You squint, he laughs and shakes his head.

“Over your panties.” You roll your eyes but listen nonetheless, slipping your hand in between your thighs. The material is extremely wet to the touch, and the slickness helps with making the friction pleasurable when your fingertips find your clit and begin rubbing circles. “Slowly.”

Johnny finds your huff of frustration adorable.

The tip of his dick taps your mouth again to gain your attention. You suck spit up to the front of your mouth, then your mouth is stretched wide once again, hand back in your hair.

Having your throat fucked with the additional pleasure on your clit, even with the slow pace you’re forced to go at, has you practically whining, the sound going in and out as he goes in and out your mouth. That vibration only spurs Johnny to grip your locks tighter and thrust in deeper to feel as much as your mouth and throat offer.

“You were made for this, huh?”

“Mhm,” you affirm, eyes rolling back at the way he pulls your hair to tip your head back and get a different, much better angle.

Johnny honestly didn’t expect you to submit so easily to him. The visual of your face all messy, eyes hardly opened to look into his eyes and hair out of place while touching yourself sparks that feeling in his lower abdomen.

“You want me to cum in your mouth?” You hum again and even with a mouth full of dick you manage to smile. You’re getting what you wanted. “Don’t swallow it until I tell you to.”

It takes a few more strokes for Johnny to fulfill your wish. The moment his head falls back again you use your free hand to caress his balls, and that does it. He leaves the tip in so that his cum pools onto your tongue and strokes every drop out. The groan he lets out causes you to unintentionally swipe at your clit faster, but he’s distracted anyway.

“Let me see,” Johnny says after collecting himself and stepping back. You straighten your head so none slides down your throat and open your mouth wider for his inspection. He smiles in approval, wishing he could take a picture of the sight before him. “Swallow.”

You lick your lips and wipe away all the spit that traveled outside of your mouth with the sleeve of your jacket after doing so.

Johnny completely removes his pants before he leans down to kiss you again. His tongue languidly licks against the seam of your mouth for an entrance that you grant instantly. While it curls around your own and he gets a taste of himself, Johnny’s hand guides you to bend one leg and he caresses your outer thigh.

“Good?” Johnny asks for extra measure, lips just barely dragging across your cheek to press opened mouth kisses on your jaw. Your head automatically tilts to the opposite side to give him more real estate. You hum, your mouth a bit preoccupied with how your teeth have trapped your bottom lip.

Your breath stutters at the gentle scrape of his teeth along the length of your neck after he unzips the high neck of your top to expose more skin. Whichever scent you chose to put on today has Johnny latched onto your neck for a while, kissing, licking, nibbling the skin to the point of your breath coming out a lot louder than before and the seat on your underwear getting uncomfortably wetter. You’re throbbing at this point and not being touched enough, so you claw at his sides and call his name quietly.

Johnny eventually spreads your legs more and maneuvers himself in between them. Both of your legs bend at the knee to accommodate his large build in the middle of them, and the hand that isn’t keeping himself propped up by your head kneads your hip.

“You know how long I’ve been wanting to get you like this?”

“How long?” you prompt, voice hardly above a whisper.

“Since the day you gave me a tour of the building,” he admits and slowly rises until he’s up on his knees.

“That’s a long time,” you respond lamely, hardly caring when your pussy is practically screaming at you to be touched. He raises a brow, and when he looks back up at your face, your lip is back in between your teeth.

If he doesn’t touch you soon you might explode.

“I’ve wanted this for a while, too,” you decide to confess, hoping it gets you somewhere. And it does. It’s almost like you’re rewarded for it by Johnny walking back on his knees until he’s far enough to settle on his stomach, face barely inches away from the apex of your thighs. He subconsciously licks his lips at the smell of you. He’s been wanting to taste you for so long now, but he refrains himself because he sees how you’re affected by the lack of attention to your heat. He promised he’d take care of you and that’s exactly what he’s going to do. But not before breaking you.

“Wish you would’ve told me sooner,” he eventually tells you after having you hold your breath for way too long.

“You know I couldn’t.” The way Johnny looks at you, attentive to every word that comes out of your mouth while he smoothly scoops your legs over his shoulders to wrap his arms around your thighs, makes you continue speaking. “Seems like everything fell into place, though.”

Johnny nods, rests his head on one of your thighs, and looks up at you, brown eyes still watching your mouth intently, as he unhooks one of his arms to push your right leg further to the side. His fingers are soon on your center, gliding up and down your slit, bumping into your clit with each pass.

“I guess it did.”

Before you can reply, he adds more pressure behind his touch, and your hips just barely lift to get even more. The smile you get in return is attractive as all hell but annoying. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you or he’s just really enjoying himself. Either way, you’re getting more impatient by the second, if the way your hips rise to grind your core against his fingers again says anything.

“Stay still for me, okay?” You almost pout because you need more, but you promised to give him total control of the situation and you’ve done well thus far, so you press your ass back into his comforter. “There you go.”

Your pussy clenches around nothing.

The light pressure on your clit is soon gone and then the zipper of your jacket gets dragged down all the way. “Take this off for me.”

Sitting up, you do as told. You toss it where your leggings had been dropped and now you’re presented in front of the awe-struck brunet in just your matching set of underwear. You figured you’d wear something nice under your clothes, both for Johnny’s pleasure and for your confidence, and with how Johnny’s eyes settle on the way your breasts are trying to burst out of your snug lacy bra, you know you chose well.

A hand slides up your torso to grab one of your breasts and squeeze it. Somewhere in the midst of him fondling your chest and pressing teasing, yet promising kisses on your inner thighs your eyes drift shut again as you bask in the pleasure. One of your own hands comes up from your side to slide under the cup of your unoccupied tit and pull at your nipple.

The tip of Johnny’s tongue drags dangerously close to your annoying-still-clothed heat and your patience is shot.

“John…”

“Yes?”

“I need more.”

He has the audacity to hum and give your clit a kitten lick. “Do you?”

You huff, stuck between just pushing his face into your pussy or doing what he asks of you, but you promised, so you suck in a breath and give him what he wants.

“John,” you say again, almost whining.

He doesn’t say anything, just continues to look at you expectantly. And when too much time goes by, it somehow hits you what he wants from you and you groan quietly to yourself.

“Please.”

“That was very convincing,” Johnny snorts. His nose glides across the inside of your thigh like he’s got all the time in the world. It tickles in the best way, but it’s nothing but teasing and you’ve been stimulated enough that if you go more than a couple of seconds more without his mouth giving you direct pleasure, you’ll go insane. So with a great amount of willpower, you try again.

“Johnny,” you whine, giving him your best pout. Addressing him so informally feels foreign, but the way his eyes light up encourages you to keep going.“Please?”

And of course a big smile takes up half of his face and you mentally prepare yourself for what’s next to come. He peels your panties off, both of you watching the line of slick that stretches then breaks in the process, and when you spread your legs even more for him, his mouth salivates.

Johnny makes sure you’re looking into his eyes as his tongue licks a wide stripe from your entrance to your clit. He wants to be smug at the gasp you let out, but the taste of you shuts his ego up quickly.

You squeak when you’re suddenly flipped onto your stomach and your ass is lifted up into the air. With yet another broad lick to coat his taste buds with your essence, Johnny buries his face in your pussy. He uses the tip of his tongue to collect the puddle of wetness you’ve produced and smears it over your clit, soon digging inside to directly stimulate the bundle of nerves.

Johnny’s lips close around your clit and he sucks on it softly. As the moments pass he gradually sucks harder to the point of you not being able to fight the way your eyes flutter shut and hips push back. He’s nice about the movement, just grabbing your hips to keep you still, soon caressing and kneading.

“Mm, that feels good,” you compliment. At that very moment, Johnny decides to roll his tongue in up and down motions and apply more pressure behind his hands. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

He prompts you with a hum of his own.

With how your moans start to get louder and your breath gets quicker and harder, not to mention the tingles you feel building in intensity, you know you’re already close. It’s a beautiful yet frustrating feeling because you don’t want this to end so soon after waiting so long. But you also want him inside of you so bad now.

Johnny comes back up to circle your entrance, and then he goes even higher.

“Are you— fuck,” you groan deeply.

Your hands grip the pillow your face is buried in and your eyes have found the back of your head again. Johnny just hums at the way you react, the octave of your voice as you let out your sounds of pleasure go straight to his dick. His tongue licks filthily up and down, not leaving an inch untouched nor missing a drop of your juice. His fingers rub your entrance until he slides one in. One becomes two after a few pumps, then his thumb presses into your clit and your back is arched almost uncomfortably.

“Johnny,” you whine again, breath hiccuped.

“Yes?” he prompts, lifting his head and looking up to see your face peaking around your body, smushed into his pillow still.

“I wanna cum,” you tell him. It feels too good now. “Fuck, I need to come, Johnny.”

“Then cum for me.” His voice is so gentle yet commanding as his digits speed up. He tongues the skin between your holes sloppily and you try to curl into yourself, your mouth wide opened with no sound coming out of it, your walls clenching madly around the fingers inside of you, and your grip on the cushion is borderline painful.

Johnny helps you ride out your orgasm for as long as possible until your body begins shuddering due to oversensitivity. He gradually slows down to a stop, then removes himself from your body to let you breathe correctly. While he sucks on his fingers, he uses his clean hands to soothingly rub your back, waiting for you to calm back down.

You’re a bit dazed during the transition of more kissing that leads you on top of him, straddling him once again. You vaguely remember the caresses on your waist or the pinch of his fingers playing with your nipples, but the feeling of your bare pussy dragging against his dick is very memorable because it sparks a desperate need within you to sit on it.

Johnny’s hands on your hips move you to continue the friction, moving you back and forth on his dick easily. Foreheads connected as you catch your breath from the kiss you just broke away from, the two of you watch silently as his head reappears and disappears behind your lips, turning you both on until he’s fully hard again and you can’t handle him not being inside of you anymore.

You lift up on your knees to align his tip with your entrance. A silent look is exchanged where you ask and he nods once. He lets you take your time, enjoying the feeling of his tip directly rubbing against your sopping entrance.

Your labored breaths at the sensation bring his attention to your chest, and his mouth wraps around a nipple without a thought. By now, you deem his dick wet enough to press his head in your hole and press your hips down. The moment he slides in your head falls back because the stretch burns in the best way. It feels like time doesn’t exist as you work your way down his length, inch by inch. Your hips naturally find a slow rhythm as you lift and drop them to take in more until he slides in and out easily.

When your features no longer show discomfort, Johnny begins moving with you. Every time he lifts his hips up a little to meet your thrusts his body slumps down the headboard. His hands are loose on your waist as you move your body up and down and he’s got the perfect view of his dick going in and out of your core while you’re controlling the pace and intensity. The muscles in your thighs start to burn, so you slow down to a stop and carefully slide your way down until your clit comes in contact with his pubic bone, resulting in your eyes rolling back, hips grinding on their own accord.

“How the fuck do you feel this good?” Johnny groans deeply, hands gripping your ass to assist your movements.

His compliment, his hungry, intense gaze as they take you in from your eyes—which mirror his own—down to the trail of slick you’ve left behind on his tamed curls from the swivel of your hips, and the way his cock rubs against your g-spot send you over the edge within moments. Johnny soothingly rubs a cheek with one hand while the other caresses your arched spine, keeping his hips still to let you ride your orgasm out on your own.

You slump into him, head on his shoulder, panting against his neck. A sigh of content slips out when Johnny hugs you tightly against his broad chest right before asking, “You alright?”

“Great,” you reply breathlessly.

Johnny smiles at the positive response. He lifts his hips experimentally and gauges your reaction, which is a satisfied hum.

“You want more?” he asks, hands moving to your hips to carefully grind against him. How could you say no? “Hands and knees, baby.”

You begin climbing off to the side of him then he follows your lead and lifts himself up so you can settle on your knees and bend until your face slides onto his pillow. Your hands grab the sides of it in anticipation.

A deep groan sounds from behind you, so you crane your neck and see the way he stares down at how he can see everything you have to offer him at this moment. One hand goes to his dick while the other massages one of your cheeks. He runs the swollen tip of his dick along your slit, collecting what’s oozed out. You close your eyes and relax the side of your face into the cushion beneath it and take a breath, preparing yourself for the stretch and intensity this angle never fails to bring.

He slowly starts to breach your entrance. There’s a pause, then you hear him spit down before more of him slips inside of you inch by inch with each roll of his hips. He keeps his movements shallow for a while and your walls reaccept him easily. A particular thrust sends him deep inside of you, his tip just barely kissing your cervix. Your body’s first instinct is to run away from it. His hands on your hips stop you from fleeing, holding you still and rubbing the skin there to ease you.

“I won’t go too deep,” he tells you, hips still as he kisses up your spine and makes you dizzy by the tenderness of it all. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You nod at his promises and take another steadying breath, then the pleasurable friction is back. You’d believe anything he told you with that intoxicating voice of his.

A loud, embarrassing squelch comes out of your core when he’s sheathed inside that makes you bury your face into the pillow. There’s one last kiss at the top of your spine before the body heat from his chest is gone and he’s back upright. He finds his rhythm easily, and hands return to your backside, fingers digging into the flesh, no doubt leaving behind white imprints. He uses his grip as leverage to fuck down into you at a different angle that allows him to speed up and rip an unrestrained moan from your throat.

“You okay?”

You nod violently and sob, “Yes! Oh, my god, yes.”

Content, Johnny hums and you just know he’s grinning down at you by the sound of his voice when he asks: “Feels good?”

“So good,” you whine, unable to close your mouth or stop noises from coming out of it. You begin dropping your hips down to meet his thrusts, the loud smacks of skin against skin echoing and bouncing off of the walls of his room. “Fuck it feels so good, Johnny.”

“I know, baby” he groans. “And this pussy feels so fucking good—shit.”

The two of you get lost in the rhythm you’ve created and no more words are exchanged for a while, just the sound of groans that comes deep from Johnny’s throat and whines and pants that make you drool all while drying your throat out. The room has gotten increasingly hotter and your bodies now shine with a thin, sticky sheen that makes the back of your thighs stick to the front of his own every time he fucks back into you. Your sensitive nipples rub harshly against the sheets, stimulating you even further to the point of another sob ripping out of your throat and your walls fluttering around his girth.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper. Your divulgence prompts him to reach his arm under you to graze his fingertips over your engorged clit and then you’re repeating your words over and over again until your actions meet your words and you’re cumming all over him. Your essence drips down the insides of your thighs and his balls and his thrusts create wetter, louder noises. A swivel of your hips causes his dick to pop out and suddenly your body is vibrating.

“There you go, baby,” Johnny praises you, sliding back into you and precisely hitting that spot within you a few more times until your pussy clenches again and he pulls out again, letting more wetness spray the sheets under you.

“Look at you,” he continues with a deep chuckle. “Making such a big mess.”

You don’t know if he really meant for you to look but your curiosity gets the best of you and you lift your head and look in between your legs. There’s a dark puddle on his sheets and another whine leaves your body, your head falling back into the pillow.

“Can you handle more?” Johnny asks you softly, slapping the top of your asscheek with his dick.

You need more. You don’t know what the hell Johnny has done to you and your body but you feel empty and not satisfied enough. Your core is raw at this point but you want nothing more than to feel the velvety skin of his thick, long dick sliding in and out of you and hitting every spot in you that makes your body convulse again.

“Please,” you beg, wagging your hips to emphasize your needs. “Please, Johnny.”

“I’ve got you begging now?” He sounds so turned on yet taken aback, another dark laugh vibrating your body at the nod of your head and movement of your body. If you were in your right mind, you would be ashamed of your behavior and submission to your assistant, but you’re not. And who cares when you’ve never felt this way before and crave to feel even more?

“I need it,” you confess without shame. “Need you back inside of me.”

Johnny doesn’t need any more convincing to be back, deep within you and instantly satisfying you again. Your breath stutters and it’s not easy to speak in coherent sentences, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to voice your pleasure and appreciation to the brunet whose self-control only continues to dissolve the faster he slams into you and the higher your voice gets.

Both of your breath patterns get quicker, loud, more erratic, signaling the approach of his first release and your third? Fourth? You can’t keep up with it when your brain has turned into mush and you can barely remember your own name, only his own registering in your brain. His name rolls off of your tongue like a mantra, driving him insane behind you.

“Where do you want me to cum?” he pants. It takes you too long to swallow in an attempt to lubricate your throat and answer him, Johnny humming in question impatiently.

“My back,” you manage to squeak out. You’re impressed with the amount of control he has, the slamming of his hips into your ass somehow speeding up and getting rougher. Johnny lacks the control and precision from before, and the way his tip kisses your cervix rips a yell out of you, eyes watering as you hold on for dear life. He releases a drawn out groan from deep within, and not too long later you feel ropes of cum land on your lower back and ass.

Your body is shaking. Tears leak out of your eyes, your breath is hard to catch, and quiet cries come out. You’re gently flipped over and pulled into strong arms, quickly finding comfort in the chest you settle into.

“You’re okay, baby,” Johnny’s soft voice says to you, but you can’t open your eyes or your mouth to acknowledge him. You’re confused about why you’re reacting to this, but you don’t dislike it. Especially when you have Johnny to soothe you and help you calm down. “Are you hurting anywhere?”

You shake your head and finally try to respond, but it takes a couple of coughs and harsh swallows of spit to do so. “No. I feel good. Everywhere.”

Your speech is choppy, unlike your usual way of speaking, but stringing words into sentences that flow well is too much work right now. Johnny doesn’t mind; he loves that he had that effect on you after you’ve had him under your spell for so long. He loves the fact he successfully kept his promise to you and now you’re boneless in his arms.

He reaches for the glass of water on his nightstand and hands it to you. “Are you ready for a bath?”

“Can I fall asleep in the bath?” you ask, wiping your face tiredly.

“Sure,” Johnny says softly before setting you down on the dry part of the bed. “I’ll come get you once it’s ready.”

That’s how the rest of the day plays out, you getting taken care of in multiple ways. Your favorite method is with his tongue and fingers as he made out with your pussy for what felt like hours in lieu of an apology for going so hard. And maybe Johnny purposely falls asleep next to you after you’re bathed, fed, and exhausted from coming, curled up into his side in the new sheets because he wants you to stay a little longer. There’s no way in hell he’ll ever get to see this side of you again after today.

“Good morning,” Johnny greets you. It’s eight in the morning the following Monday, and he’s got your avocado toast and fruit in his hands as he walks up to your desk.

You're rummaging through your bag looking for the bobby pins you threw inside of it this morning in your rush to get to work on time because believe it or not, you overslept. You give up in favor of looking up to greet him back, but your voice decides not to come out when your eyes lock with his. There hadn’t been any contact since you woke up in the middle of the night and he walked you to his door with a lingering kiss that quite literally took your breath away to close out the short chapter of your relationship you’d just created. You were still tired, but you definitely were not supposed to sleep over, so it was nothing.

But now, seeing the same eyes that stared into your own while you came and cried his name multiple times, all you can do is blink. And then he licks his pretty lips. You knew this would happen. You’re not mad at it, though. How could you be when you’d never experienced someone like him before? In hindsight, there was no possible way to go back to normal after the intimacy, tenderness, and raw attraction you shared that day. No possible way to never want another taste.

“You okay?” he asks unsurely, setting your plates down.

And here it comes.

“Johnny,” you say lowly, setting your bag down. The quirk in his brow and the corner of his mouth lets you know he’s onto you. And that just makes things easier for you. “Lock the door.”

yikesssssss

#johnny seo scenarios #johnny seo scenario #johnny seo smut #nct scenarios #nct scenario #nct smut #lets not talk abt the ending i needed to end this monster

900 notes · View notes