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illfoandillfie · 7 months

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Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

Pairing: Rich Fuckboy!Ben Hardy x Fem!Reader

Summery: An unexpected call from Ben results in an unexpected evening.

Warnings: Smut (18+), Rich kid dickishness, dom/sub dynamics, mostly dom ben and sub reader, but also a little round the other way, a fair bit of derogatory/degrading language (esp whore), edging, cockwarming, a little spanking, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking, piv sex, begging, bondage, forced orgasm. I think thats all.

Words: 12,890

A/N: Wasn't necessarily planning to write more of rich bitch Benny but then I saw some promo pics for his movie Love At First Sight and something in my brain booted up. This was written over a stupidly long time, literally months, so hopefully its okay lmao. Also please excuse any weird formatting. The way tumblr works, paragraphs can't be more than 4096 characters so some of the dialogue had to be broken up to make it postable.

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming@queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

“You get two questions.” “Five,” Bianca countered. “Two. I want to have a shower.” “Fine.” She agreed, disgruntled. Bianca had ambushed you the second you got home, having stayed up waiting on the couch to hear all about your date with Ben. She’d listened patiently, laughing or nodding and squealing a little, as you told her about the restaurant he’d chosen and the club and ending up on the yacht. But when you’d admitted you had slept with him, she got so excited you were a little worried she’d forget to breathe. Bianca thought for a moment, choosing which of her questions were most worth asking, “Okay, one, was he good? Like did you get off?” “Yeah, he was very good,” you smiled to yourself thinking about just how good he’d been, following all your orders. Bianca seemed a little relieved that the exceptional lover she’d fantasised about so many times could live up to the image. “Was he into any weird kinks?” You thought for a moment, contemplating how little you could get away with saying, “Nothing super unusual. But y’know that’s stuff you don’t necessarily bring out the first time.” “Nothing kinky? Not even like some bondage or spitting or anything?” “You asked me about weird! Yeah there was a little bondage. Spanking too.”

"I knew it!” she said before the loudest squeal yet and you hurried to shush her before a neighbour complained. “He was hung right? Please god tell me he was hung.” “Thats more than two questions.” “Fuck, c’mon Y/N. Just describe his dick for me. I've been trying to picture it for years, it’d be mean of you not to tell me.” You laughed, enjoying teasing her but you felt a little bad for sleeping with her celebrity crush so held up your hands to demonstrate an approximate length, “Comparisons could be drawn to horses.” Her eyes lit up like it was Christmas, “I knew it.” “He wasn’t super thick but he was decently long. Nothing crazy but more than enough. Very slight curve.” She’d closed her eyes and hummed as you described him, “It’s beautiful,” she said dreamily. Laughing, you bid her goodnight, looking forward to showering and then heading to bed, but once more she stopped you. “Wait, are you going to sell the story?” “Oh, I can’t. He made me sign an NDA. I’ve probably said too much already so don’t go repeating it okay.” “So that’s why no one ever spills too many details.” “Yeah, must be.” You felt a little bad for lying but you really wanted to shower, and you knew she’d ask more questions if you admitted you didn’t want to tell anyone now. If the night had gone more to Ben’s plan, if you’d let him be in control, you wouldn’t have had any qualms about writing to a magazine with the big scoop. But he’d obviously cultivated a particular image in the public conscious, one that didn’t necessarily align with ideas of him as a willing, even eager, submissive. The thought of selling that story made you feel dirty in a way the other versions just wouldn’t. So, at the end of the night you’d promised to keep it a secret, even if that meant remaining poor. You’d gotten to domme The Benjamin Hardy after all, what more did you need.

As it happened, it wasn’t so much what you needed, but rather what Ben did. Around two weeks after your night together, you answered a call from a private number, hoping it wasn’t a scam caller. Your surprise at hearing Ben’s voice saying your name was rivalled only by his apparent surprise that he was calling. “Um, what’s this about?” you felt entirely caught off guard. “I- well, I guess I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me tonight?” It didn’t sound so much like he was asking you, as he was questioning his decision to call. You laughed, stepping into your cupboard and pulling the door closed so you’d be less likely to be overheard. The darkness made everything feel more surreal than it already did, “You already bored of the airheads who just do what you say?” He scoffed, his uncertainty falling away at the first opportunity to be a tosser, “No, actually, I’m looking for an easy shag. Most of my regular options are at this fashion thing this weekend but I knew you wouldn’t be invited.” “Fashion event? Is that what they told you? They’re probably off trying for a different sugar daddy.” “Good luck to them. They’ll all be back, but my cock’s hard now.” You rolled your eyes, “C’mon Benny, you don’t have to lie to me. Just admit you liked what I did to you and want me to do it again.” “I just liked your cunt.” “You liked me threatening to peg you.” He paused for a beat, “I like the idea of fucking your arse more.” “Okay, this is cute,” you said, growing bored of his asshole attitude, “but I’ve got better things to do. Bye Ben.” “Wait, don’t hang up.” You let him hang in silence for a few seconds before saying, “I’m listening,” intrigued by the way the bravado had dropped from his voice. “Would you like to get dinner with me?” “Just dinner?” “Yes. Your call if anything else happens.” You hummed in thought, weighing up your options. On one hand, Bianca would freak out at even the smallest hint there was more than just a one-night stand between you and Ben. And you didn’t really feel like being paraded in front of cameras or his boorish friends again. But on the other, you’d clearly awoken something in Ben. To the point where he seemed willing to go out with you again, even without the promise of sex. And that was after just one night of being edged....imagine what you could do with more time. “Okay, dinner sounds nice. But not at that ridiculous place you took me last time.” “You didn’t like it there?” “It was nice, but the cameras are a bit of a buzzkill.” “Well I can get us in anywhere else, but the paparazzi will find me wherever we go.” “So then let me pick where we eat.” “Do you have a standing reservation at any Michelin star restaurants?” “No but they’re not the only places to eat in this city.” you only just managed not to call him an idiot. “The only worthwhile ones. Michelin literally means delicious in French.” “It’s a tire company Ben, it means jack shit. Just let me pick where we eat.” “Fine, but only if I’m guaranteed a shag. A good one, that I get to control.” “What happened to just dinner?” “I think we both know just dinner wasn’t really going to happen. You liked my cock too much. But if I’m not allowed to choose where we go, you’re not allowed to dom me.” “But isn’t that the entire reason you called?” “Not the entire reason. I’ll have you know there were ulterior motives.”

By the time Ben pulled up you were waiting out on the street. You’d decided it was best to get out without Bianca finding out who you were going out with, just to minimize the questions and potential jealousy or excitement. You weren’t sure which direction her emotions would go in. So you’d twisted the truth a little to make it sound like Ben was a random guy you’d matched with on tinder. Bianca had been interested but not as overbearing as she might have been had she known, her questions more general ones about where you were going and how long you’d been messaging the guy. Ben seemed a little surprised when he saw you waitingbut got out and held the limo door open for you. “Worried if I came up you’d forget yourself and just have to get my cock out?” You snorted, “No, I just don’t want Bianca to know I’m going out with you again.” “Bianca....why does that name sound familiar?” “She’s my roommate. I mentioned her last time. She was with me when we met and you first asked me out.” “Oh, right, the chick who puked.” Ben laughed, “You worried she’d be jealous? Should have invited her, she sounds easy and you know that’s my type.” “Ben,” you said firmly, beginning to regret not just hanging up on him, “you know that sort of comment isn’t going to work on me, especially since you’re talking about my friend. Now either stop acting like such a prick, or I will go back upstairs and block your number. There is no one here who is going to be impressed by your bullshit. “Sorry.” He said softly and surprisingly sincerely, “You look nice, by the way.” “Sure you don’t want to tell me I should have dressed sluttier?” You waved a hand in front of yourself, indicating the dress you’d chosen. It was neither as short, nor as tight, as the dress you’d worn last time, falling to your knees, not clinging to your skin. The only vaguely revealing part of the dress was a little bit of cleavage on display and even that wasn’t much. “No, it suits you. And you look lovely in it.” You were a little suspicious but chose to accept the complement, thanking Ben before saying, “I did do as you asked though. No underwear.” He tried not to look too pleased, “Can I see?” “Not yet.” “What if I promise to go down on you until we get to wherever you’re taking me – which is where by the way?” You gave him the address and he passed it on to the driver. “So?” he asked as the car began to move, “You know I know how to eat pussy.” You rolled your eyes, though you felt that at least his tact included offering to pleasure you rather than just himself, “No. Not yet.” “I thought you promised to be my whore,” he pouted. Ben still wasn’t used to not getting his way immediately, “My whores do what I say when I say it.” “Well we both know that doesn’t work with me, does it baby,” you weren’t sure how far Ben would let you push him, but it was fun to test the waters. He made a low rumbly sound, almost a growl, and for a moment you wondered if he’d put his hand on your throat like last time, attempt to intimidate you into complying. Instead, he just nodded and subtly palmed the front of his pants. “I know I let you maul me in this limo last time,” you felt confident enough that he wouldn’t try anything to continue, “but that was when I was trying to lull you into a false sense of domination. So we’re going to have dinner first and you’re going to be nice to me. And then, once we’re on the way to your place, that’s when I’ll let you take control.” Ben was quiet for a moment, contemplating what you’d said. You could see his habitual tendencies to objectify every women he talked to were battling with his clear enjoyment of being bossed around, “Okay, deal. But you’ll be fucking in for it later.”

“Who’s house is this?” Ben asked as he offered you a hand out of the limo, the bag of food in his other. You leant back in to grab the bottle of champagne and the glasses, able to feel Ben ogling the hem of your dress as it rose up the back of your legs, “It’s not the house we’re here for, c’mon.” You led him around the corner and up a little alley that ran behind the houses. Ben scrunched up his nose a little, “Bit…dingy isn’t it. Not really the sort of place I want to eat. Quickie during a party is a different story though.” You ignored him, leading him further down the path until it opened out into a little garden which was surrounded by trees, making it feel removed from the outside world. Ben’s dissatisfaction with the alley turned into a bemused approval, “Well this is quite nice. You set it up yourself?” “No, the lights got put up for a Christmas party a few years back and they just left them up.” Ben looked around at the twinkling white solar lights draped throughout the tree branches, “Well it’s not what I was expecting but it’s nice. Cute. Little bit romantic even with the moonlight and all. Well done.” You laughed a little and took the bag from him as you sat down in the middle of a circle of stone pavers, pulling out the few dishes you’d ordered as well as some paper plates and bamboo cutlery. Ben watched you for a while until you told him to sit down. He warily crouched down, brushing leaf litter from a patch before he sat proper. When he caught your raised eyebrow he shrugged, “This suit is worth more than you make in a year. Not even the best cunt in the world could make me ruin it.” “You think I have the best cunt in the world? I’m flattered,” you continued dishing up the food, handing a plate to Ben. “That’s not what I meant. We’ll see after tonight though. If you behave and take me the way I want, you might be in the running.” You did your best to hide a smile, trying not to give away how amusing his comment was. That is, until he took it too far and your smile turned into an eye roll. “Although, to really be sure I’d have to have all the contenders lined up for me to test out one after another. Hmmm, now that’s a thought." You cleared your throat, hoping a gentle reminder would be enough but Ben remained lost in pornographically unrealistic fantasies, the outline of his cock much more visible than it had been a moment before. “Fork Ben?” you asked, tempted to poke him with the implement.” “You’ve gotten eager but alright.” This time you did poke him, just quickly in the shoulder, emphasising correct articulation as you repeated, “Fork.” “Ow, alright.” He took the cutlery from you, “you’re the one who was talking about cunts though. Can’t blame me for mishearing.” Before you could do more than huff in response Ben quickly said, “So, you gonna explain this place to me? Because I can tell you, if we’re caught trespassing here, we’ll definitely end up in the papers and that sort of publicity is much less fun than being seen at a nice restaurant.”

You shook your head as you settled back with your own plate, “No, we have permission to be here. Hows the food by the way?” “Incredible. Can’t believe I haven’t heard of them before.” “Well they don’t have any Michelin stars so maybe that’s why. And don’t you start telling your rich friends about it. I don’t want you ruining my favourite Thai place.” Ben laughed, “So when you say we have permission to be here what do you mean?” “Well, I grew up in this area actually. One street over, but I used to come to this spot a lot. It was designed to be a little community garden, there’s still some planters over along the fence, but mostly it gets used for street parties and things, so usually it was empty. I used to come here when I wanted to be alone. It seemed so secret and secluded and, I don’t know, kind of magical I guess. I mean, now I know it wasn’t quite as secret as I thought. The house that we’re behind can see directly between those two trees,” you pointed at them, “and the old couple who used to live there were friends with my parents, so they’d keep an eye on me. And then when I was a bit older I did some baby sitting for their daughter who eventually moved back into the house to look after her parents and who still lives there now since she inherited it.” “So she can see us? Didn’t know you were into exhibitionism.” “She’s overseas at the moment. But our families have kept in contact and when I said I had a date I wanted to bring here she said it’d be fine.” “Condemning silence about exhibitionism which I’ve definitely filed away. But this place is nice. A little dirty perhaps, but nice.” He had another mouthful and then said, “So, why exactly did you bring me here?” “Isn’t that obvious?” He hummed thoughtfully, “Because you’re a dirty girl who likes doing it outside? Because you didn’t want me to have home ground advantage? Because you don’t like the idea of other women having me and this way you get me all to yourself? Am I getting close?” “I wanted to see you away from the cameras and the fawning models and the arseholes you call friends. I wanted a nice, normal sort of a night where we weren’t going to end up on the front page of every gossip website. And I wanted to see if you were a prick even without an audience.” “Please, you like it” he scoffed teasingly, “And I don’t understand what you’ve got against having your photo taken. I told you last time that being seen is half the fun. I mean, don’t me wrong, this is nice too. Just a bit boring in comparison.” “Mmm, well I’m sure there’ll be plenty of articles speculating on where you were tonight since no one’s got a picture.” Ben perked up a little at the idea, “That’s a good point. Maybe a quiet night every so often isn’t a bad idea.”

For the next little while, as you finished your dinner, Ben oscillated between total sweetheart and utter dickhead, as though he were playing Double Dutch with the line between. You’d hoped that getting him on his own would discourage some of the behaviours he’d displayed last time you’d been with him. If he wasn’t around his idiot friends, he’d have no one to objectify women with. If you weren’t at a restaurant, none of his previous or prospective conquests could remind him of wild nights that he’d then tell you all about. If he couldn’t throw money around in order to buy your company for the night, he’d have to offer stimulating conversation and a genuine reason for your interest instead. But apparently it was not as cause and effect as you’d assumed and Ben still managed to do all the things you’d hoped to avoid. And if anything, being alone with him with no other women to distract made him even more intent on getting you out of your clothes. He suggested first that dinner would taste better eaten off your tits. And then when you tried to come up with a new topic of conversation, he decided to reminisce about a time he’d seduced a TV personality on the set of a cooking show after they’d both been judging it. And every time you took a sip of champagne he’d watch as if telepathically trying to get you drunk. The annoying thing was that in between he was absolutely delightful. You knew there was a decent man buried beneath the layers of wankery his affluent lifestyle had imbued him with. But it was only after he smiled charmingly, leaned in close, and suggested you give him a quick handy if you weren’t going to lift your skirt, that you grew fed up enough to voice the opinion you’d formed about his style of flirting. “Y’know, I thought you’d be better at it.” “Better at what?” he asked suspiciously, “I can assure you I’m incredible at it, you just need a proper demonstration.” “No not that. Flirting. I mean, that is what you’re trying to do isn’t it?” “Obviously,” he said, taken aback. “I guess you’ve never had to really try have you? You were blessed with looks and money. Probably never been turned down in your life, even when you should have been.” “What are you talking about? Don’t tell me you actually are as dumb as the rest of them. And here I was thinking fucking your brains out would be an actual accomplishment.” “No, I just….it’s not good flirting. You realise that right?” “What do you mean not good flirting? It works every time.” “No, I think it’s the money that works every time. Being rich means you can get away with a lot of other bullshit.” When he seemed likely to try and contradict you, you spoke over the top of him, “Listen, I know I can’t speak for every woman you hit on but I can tell you that if an average looking guy with an average amount of money tried to flirt the way you do, he would be shot down. Very, very quickly. For the most part women don’t want to be degraded by random guys they go out with. And they don’t want to hear about all your other conquests when you’re hitting on them.” “Well what would you know,” he said, crossing his arms in sullen defensiveness.

You turned up the condescension, “Aww baby, I get it. You’ve never had to learn how to keep a girl interested without buying her attention." Ben was still pouting but his expression had changed, less cocksure. “It’s okay baby, I’ll keep you in line.” Ben gave half a nod but then paused, “Hey, wait. Stop making me feel subby, I’m meant to be domming tonight.” You laughed at how he sounded almost like he was going to throw a tantrum, “but it’s so easy and fun.” “Well turning you into a fucked out cockslut will be fun too.” There was a short pause and then Ben, much more seriously said, “But you really think my flirting is bad?” “I hate to break it to you but, kinda yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s not all bad. You just need some work. Sometimes you take things a bit far with the teasy banter.” “Like when?” “Hmmm well, just before when you were bragging about how expensive your suit is – which is pretty unsexy by the way – and then I countered with a joke about having the best cunt in the world. Personally I didn’t mind your come back about making me behave or whatever. It was a little crass maybe but not too much more than what I’d said, and since we both know I’m letting you take charge tonight it was a bit hot. But then you took it too far by inventing a scenario in which you would have the chance to compare me to other women. We went from hot to ick in a matter of seconds.” “I’m pretty sure I was implying that you would win.” “Didn’t really sound like it and absolutely not the point. How can I put it? When you talk to me like I’m a normal human being not something put in front of you for your sexual gratification, when we have a proper conversation with a little bit of banter, that’s fun and enjoyable and makes me want to sleep with you. But then you’ll tell me about some other woman you had sex with or you’ll make a derogatory comment about my friend, whom you’ve not even properly met, or you’ll act like you expect me to get my tits out as, I don’t know, decoration while you eat. Basically anything to imply that the only reason you’re even here with me is to have sex.” “But that was the agreement.” “I know. And I am totally fine with having a night out with the expectation it’ll end in sex. But it would be nice, and it would make me want to fuck you more, if you acted like getting laid wasn’t the only thing you care about. Especially because sometimes it’s like you don’t even care who you have sex with as long as you get off, like you have no interest in if I enjoy it, you just want to use me cause I'm there.” “And that’s bad?” “As a flirting technique yes.” “But it’s a complement? And I’ve been with loads of women who say being used is hot.” “Well it’s not the nicest complement ever. And I’m not saying it isn’t hot in some situations. But not everyone likes it and even women who do enjoy it don’t necessarily want it all the time or with someone they’ve never slept with before.” “Lighten up, it’s a bit of fun and I always get them off." “Yeah but you imply that you don’t care if they cum or not which makes you seem like a bit of an asshole. Plus sometimes it can come off a little rapey. Less like a ‘I don’t care if you cum’ and more of a ‘I don’t care if you actually want it’ type thing. I don’t think I need to tell you why that’s unattractive.” “I- no- how,” Ben spluttered before he finally managed, “I would never!” “I’m not saying you have and I’m not saying you would. But sometimes you can come off a bit like that, even if it’s well intentioned. Last time we went out you pinned me down in the back of your car, your hand on my throat, and told me I was going to do everything you wanted. You were practically a stranger, I didn’t know where we were, I had no quick way of leaving partly because we were in your car and partly because of the stupidly high shoes I was wearing. It was kind of threatening. I mean I know that wasn’t your intention but…” you trailed off letting Ben absorb what you’d said.

“I really didn’t realise that’s how I sounded, I’m sorry.” “It’s okay. I was never scared or anything, I didn’t think you would rape me. And I don’t say this to accuse you of something or to be mean. I’m just sick of some of the things you’ve been saying, and I think you deserve to know that what you think is cheeky flirting can come across differently to the women you’re flirting with. "Um, well, thanks I guess. ‘Spose it is better for me to know. Don’t want to get cancelled or whatever, father would kill me. So, do you want me to take you home now?” “What? No, not at all.” “I don’t want you to think you have to sleep with me. If you want to end tonight early, I’m okay with that.” “Oh, baby, no, that’s not what I want. I came here knowing I’d end up in your bed and I think we can still have fun. Besides, I’m still eating.” “Are you sure? Wouldn’t think you’d still be up for it after everything you said.” “To tell the truth I'd really love to dom you now. Punish you for some of the gross bullshit you’ve said, put you in your place again. But we made a deal and I’m very happy to hold to it.” “Really? I think you killed my boner.” You giggled, “Well if you don’t want to, we can just finish dinner and you can drop me home. But I think I can get you back up.” Ben eyed you suspiciously, “How?” “I train you to behave better.” He shifted surreptitiously but didn’t say anything. “We stay here, finish dinner, finish his bottle of champagne, talk for a bit. But every time you say something I would consider bad flirting technique, I will do something to remind you to be better. Pull your hair, maybe edge you, whatever will get the message across.” “I guess that could be fun.” Ben said, trying to sound as if he didn’t mind and failing, “Not really the deal we made though.” You laughed, “Are you telling me that wouldn’t make you want revenge? Being edged and teased when you were meant to be in charge. Wouldn’t that rile you up. Make you want to turn the tables, show me who’s boss. I mean, all your cocky dom behaviour is what got me wanting to tie you up last time, but maybe it doesn’t work like that for you.” “Oh! I hadn’t thought of it like that.” “Because you like when I tell you what to do.” “No. Well maybe a bit. But mostly because I feel bad and thought I should just do what you want so you’d know I wouldn’t, like, hurt you or whatever. I mean, I would have expected another night for you to make it up to me but…” “It is tempting but I’ll admit I might have some ulterior motives for letting you dom me,” you leaned closer to Ben as if you were about to reveal a big secret, “You can learn a lot about how to control a guy by letting him control you. So I’m happy to let you do virtually anything you want to me. With a few exceptions.” “What sort of exceptions?” “I don’t mind anal play,” you dropped into a more serious tone rather than the sultry one you’d slipped into, “but I haven’t done any prep for it so none of it tonight please. Also, I would prefer any marks left are in easy to hide places. Concealer can be bloody expensive and I don’t want to waste any on whatever hickeys and bruises you want to leave. And I’m not super into choking. I don’t mind a hand on my neck but no squeezing if possible.” Ben hummed, “But everything else is on the cards? Mouth and cunt? Spanking? Hair pulling? Tying you up?” “Mmhmm. Whatever you want. As soon as we’re back in that car of yours. Of course, if you’re feeling all subby then that could be what you want.” A low rumble emanated from Ben’s throat as if he were growling and it made you intrigued and a little wet. But you did your best to play it cool, “See, looks like we’re fixing your boner already.”

Fortunately for you, it seemed to take Ben a little while to grasp just what you considered inappropriate flirting. At first you kept your reminders small, giving him firm taps and small pinches, maybe cutting him off to tell him to try again. But, when the lessons didn’t seem to be sticking, you ramped it up a little. By the time you were finished with the food and had moved on to finishing the champagne, he once again tried to describe a night he’d spent with another women, going into unnecessary detail about her figure in less than polite terms. You let him talk as you undid his zip and reached into his pants. Ben hummed as your fingers stroked along his already semi hard length, easily pulled free since he’d not worn underwear either, “Your gonna try and outdo her now are you?” he asked, seemingly having forgotten your threats, “Hope you know how to suck properly cause she was an expert.” You didn’t respond, just kept focused on the handjob as Ben went back to describing what the young woman had done to him. His voice became strained as he got more excited, his cock well and truly hard within your grasp, beads of precum at his tip. “Why’d you stop?” he groaned when you removed your hand before he could finish. “I told you I’d edge you.” “I thought you were bluffing,” he admitted, his face flushed. “Oh I never joke about edging baby. Especially when I’m using it to correct bad behaviour.” “What’s to stop me just finishing myself off?” “Well then you obviously wouldn’t need me at all tonight.” Ben’s hand hovered over his cock for a moment before he moved it aside. “Good boy. Now tell me more about that art show you mentioned. Did you say there was an auction?”

“Um, yeah.” He blinked like he was trying to get his brain to switch thought, “Father thinks I should be seen at fundraisers and charity events more than at clubs and restaurants so I mostly went to keep him off my back. It was mostly pretty boring but I ended up winning this stunning painting, only good piece of the night. Very detailed nude. The tits on her, phwoar. I even met the model who posed for it. Wanted to com-” Ben cut himself off as you began wanking him again. “Sorry.” “Thank you for apologising baby,” you sped your hand up, figuring since he’d caught himself before he said anything really bad you wouldn’t draw this one out. “You can stop, I didn’t say anything.” “Aww baby, I still have to edge you. Otherwise you’ll never learn.” Ben swore when you did release him, his breath heavy as he said, “That wasn’t fair. I wasn’t even going to say anything bad. Besides your tits are better. Not as big but I’ve touched both and yours are better. No, no, please.” “You can come up with a better complement than that.” You sighed, as if edging him was a chore you didn’t enjoy. “Fucking bitch. I know this is just cause I’ve got the best cock you’ve ever had and you wanted an excuse to touch it.” “Amazingly, that’s worse. And it’ll cost you another three edges. One for calling me a bitch. One for being so far up your own ass you think I couldn’t possibly have had better. And one because I know you’re enjoying this and that’s why you keep saying the douchiest shit.” You pulled your hand away, “Thats one.” Ben whined when you started on the next, the break between only short. “Don’t cum,” you reminded him, “it will not stop me, I’ll just overstimulate you instead. Maybe then you’ll really learn your lesson.” “Please, please, close,” Ben managed to whimper, and you pulled your hand away again to reward him. Ben whined and pounded his fist against the ground once, but he managed to keep whatever thoughts he was having to himself. He was clearly learning. “Just one more, okay baby?” Ben nodded, leaning back on his elbows. His cockhead was dark and precum dripped down his shaft. He wouldn’t last if you began another edge too soon so you decided to toy with him in other ways while you waited. Pushing yourself to your knees, you gathered the hem of your dress in your fists and slowly began to raise it. “Wasn’t sure I believed you,” Ben said, not quite managing to sound as cocky as he had before the edges but making a valiant attempt “Good to know you can follow instructions.” He reached a hand out as if to touch your naked pussy but you tutted and grabbed his wrist. “Not yet, baby.” you shuffled closer, keeping the front of your dress lifted as you placed a knee on either side of his legs. “Now edge yourself for me.” Ben groaned with longing as he looked at your cunt, but then he switched to glaring at you as he did as you’d said, slowly working his hand along his shaft, aided by precum and a little of his own spit. You’d been fully prepared to rub yourself along his cock or even against his thigh if he’d made a fuss, but he hadn’t even tried to argue. He was clearly planning your demise, if his expression was anything to go by, but you had expected that and only minded in so much as you were missing out on the subby little face he made when you’d had him last and he’d given in completely. But you let him go, occasionally instructing him, but mostly just watching his reactions, seeing if you could pick when he was close. It didn’t take long for him to get there, whining as he pulled his hand back. “Good boy,” you let your dress drop again, leaning forward to carefully tuck his leaking cock back into his pants, hoping that just your touch wouldn’t set him off.

Settling back onto the rug you continued the conversation as if nothing had happened, sipping at your champagne. Ben drank his a little faster, still staring daggers at you from over the rim of his glass, even when responding to you. But he seemed to have learnt his lesson. Once or twice he started to say something but cut himself off and changed tact, and you ended up having a genuinely pleasant chat. He was still flirty, still explicit about how much he wanted to fuck you, just less obnoxious about it. You didn’t have to hear about any more of his previous sexual escapades at any rate, and he was attentive enough to make you feel like sex was only most of what he cared about. Finally, you decided to put him out of his misery and see what he had in store for you. “Bottles empty." “I’ve got more back at the hotel” Ben said, catching on instantly – the bottle had been empty for a little while. “Perfect,” you smiled and let him help you to your feet, collecting the rubbish in the bag from the Thai place and dropping it into a bin out on the street as he hurried you back to the car. The driver stubbed out a cigarette on the road when he saw you approaching and was holding the door open by the time you reached him.

You were barely inside when Ben put his hand on your knees, pushing your legs open. “Already?” you asked, breath hitching as he exposed you. “Are you kidding? After what you did tonight, you think I’d wait?” he leaned in closer, one hand sliding up your thigh as the other remained firm on your knee so you couldn’t close your legs again, “After last time you really think I wouldn’t be itching to get my hands on you? You got something no one else has had and I’m so fucking annoyed that I liked it. I went home so pissed off after we docked because I know that you could have me on my knees, at your beck and call, in an instant. And I can’t have you out there bragging about it, telling anyone else, or I’m ruined. Especially because I also love domming sluts. Now, we did your quiet little dinner thing, I listened to you criticise me and imply I don’t satisfy my women. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, I let you have some fun at my expense. You were obviously so desperate to get my cock out that you had to make up an excuse to touch me,” his fingers stroked against your cunt and he smirked as if your wetness was proving him right, “but that’s okay. I like my whores desperate.” You wanted to interrupt him, to tell him that he was wrong, or better yet to steal control from him again, but as soon as you opened your mouth his palm was covering it. “Shhh no, it’s my turn to talk. I think it’s time for you to have a lesson, a hard lesson, in what it means to be my whore. That was our deal anyway. So you’re going to be quiet and do what I want. Nod if you consent.” You decided you must have got through to him at least a little bit since he was now trying to make consent clear, it was a far cry from when he’d last had you pinned down in his limo anyway, and you had agreed to it beforehand. So you nodded. “You’re going to be an eager and willing slut for me aren’t you?” You nodded but it wasn’t enough for Ben who moved his hand away and ordered “repeat what you are.” “You’re eager and willing slut. Sir.” “That’s what I like to hear. And you will enjoy everything I do to you. That’s not a threat, that’s a promise. Now show me your cunt again.” He sat back and you readjusted yourself in the seat, hitching your dress up as you spread your legs wider. Ben hummed in appreciation, “Touch yourself for me.” You swallowed thickly and did as he asked, stroking your fingers over your lips, already a little wet from teasing him. But Ben expected more, “Do it properly. You know how big I am, get yourself ready so I can fit.”

It made you want to roll your eyes but you resisted the urge, ready to play along like you’d promised. Instead, you kept eye contact with him as you stuck your fingers in your mouth, slicking them up with saliva before moving them back down to your cunt. On another day you might have been able to use the position to your advantage, make him so eager for you with your display that you could take charge before he realised what was happening. You were certain that if you’d made Ben watch you fingering yourself last time he would have turned submissive before you even made it onto the yacht. But he seemed determined to give you a taste of your own medicine today. He made a pleased sound and just watched. There was definitely a tension to him – something in the way he sat back from you and how his hand rested on the edge of the seat as if he were about to dig his fingers into the soft leather to keep from giving in – but he kept up the appearance of nonchalance. Which made you less sure of your assessment, and more worried about what he had in store for you. By the time you were adding a third finger, you felt very flustered and warm. Ben hadn’t looked away once. He’d relaxed more, content with watching despite how he was straining against the fabric of his pants. He’d made a couple of comments to either instruct you more specifically, or to gloat about how following orders suited you. “You like to play at taking charge, but we both know you want a man like me to control you.” You shook your head but your defiance was undercut by a whine. Ben just laughed, “you’re cunt agrees with me. I can see how wet you are. I can hear it. Don’t think you’re wet enough to handle my cock yet though. Guess I should give you a hand.” He’d been slowly rolling up his sleeve as he spoke but once it was up he quickly moved to take over. His body boxed you in against the seat and he pulled your fingers free, replacing them with his own. You half expected him to reach for your throat like last time but he didn’t. He did however shove three large fingers into your cunt, making you whine a little at the extra stretch of them. “Knew you needed help,” he smirked as he began fingering you relentlessly, his movements shallow and fast but reaching deeper. After a few rapid strokes he added in a little curl of his fingers against your front wall and you moaned suddenly. The look Ben gave you was his most insufferable yet, entirely too pleased with himself, but there wasn’t much you could do since he was making you feel so good.

Entirely too quickly he stopped and you looked around confused, wondering if you’d arrived already. Ben didn’t answer, more concerned with getting his pants undone and pushing them down. You were about to suggest that maybe he was the desperate one when he sat down and beckoned you over. “You wanted it so bad, whore, here you go.” When you didn’t move straight away he clicked his fingers, “I know it's a monster but your cunt can take it. C’mon.” You moved closer and Ben grabbed your hips, manhandling you onto his lap, groaning as you sank down he shaft. Your back was to Ben, so you braced your hands on his knees, assuming you were meant to ride him. But he stopped you, wrapping an arm around you to keep you still, “no don’t move. You can warm me for a bit while I explain the trouble you’re in.” You squirmed, not out of a strong desire to exhaust yourself riding him, more to show he wouldn’t have it too easy, even if you had agreed to submit. Ben’s grip remained tight but his other hand did slip down to your pussy, his fingers finding your clit with surprising ease and rubbing it lightly. Not firm enough to get you very far but enough to make you want more. “You’re going to get a taste of your own medicine. I’m going to make you wait, and I’m going to make you beg, and I’m going to have you as much as I can tonight. And maybe again in the morning if you’re lucky.” “How do you know I’ll beg?” “Well if you don’t that’ll be your problem. Because you won’t be cumming until you do. But, see, I’ll get off as much as I want. Your little edging game means that even just being in you has me close already. It gave me some ideas too.” That was when he started rubbing your clit properly, his fingertips pressing against it, pulling you closer to the edge. You knew it wouldn’t last, that he’d stop before you got anywhere near orgasm, but that didn’t change how disappointing it was when he did. Especially because you involuntarily clenched around his cock at the sudden lack of stimulation, and heard Ben groan in your ear. “God you feel good when I deny you,” he said as he started again. You quickly lost track of how many edges you had and how long you’d been in the car. Ben hadn’t had the satisfaction of hearing you beg, but he’d made you whine and whimper. And he’d had more actual satisfaction than you, managing an orgasm just from the wet warmth of you tightening around him a few times. He’d gone rigid for a moment as he reached his release but then he’d recovered himself and gone right back to edging you. You’d tried to clench around him more intentionally, hoping to overstimulate him a little, but if he felt much he didn’t let on. Which meant that by the time he pushed you from his lap you could feel a combination of his cum and your slick on your thighs and dripping from your cunt. The car pulled up as Ben said, “Clean yourself up,” tossing you a few tissues from a pocket inside his suit jacket, “Can’t have you dripping through the foyer.” That felt more humiliating than anything else he’d done or said, especially because of how horny and wet you were, but Ben didn’t seem to notice as he tucked himself away again and smoothed out his suit. Once you’d straightened yourself up as much as you could in the confines of the limo, Ben helped you out, once again acting the gentleman as he offered you his arm.

You tried to act as normal as possible as you walked through the foyer of what was obviously a five star hotel, an ambitious goal considering what had happened on the drive there and how fancy the place seemed. "Do you live here?” you asked, hoping that having a conversation to focus on would help with the image you were attempting to cultivate. Ben shook his head as you approached the lifts, “No, I have a house. Father bought it for me when I turned 18. He thought it would do me good to live on my own or something. But I never take the women I fuck there.” You blinked, surprised, “why not?” “If I was dating them it would be different, and in fact one of my exes did move in there with me for a while. But one night stands don’t get to see where I live. I permanently keep the penthouse suite here for getting my dick wet. That’s how you know you’re one of my whores.” He didn't give you a chance to respond, pulling you into a demanding kiss, his hands roaming over your arse until the elevator dinged at his floor.

It was a short walk to his door and Ben already had the keycard out by the time you reached it, clearly eager for more. He took just enough time to place a do not disturb hanger on the door handle before he pushed you to your knees right there in the entry way. When you looked up he was working on unbuckling his pants again, his cock already hard as he pulled it out, his quick refractory time a result of the edges, or so you assumed. “I’m sure you’ve got some little plan to get on top going on in your head right now, Y/N,” he said as he worked on his pants, “But I assure you it won’t be happening tonight, so I think a little test is in order. You need to prove you can submit before you go any further.” You nodded meekly, already horny and resigned to your fate. “Well go on, suck.” You shuffled forward, feeling Ben’s large fingers twisting softly in your hair to guide you. Bracing yourself for his fist to tighten or for him to force you down his shaft, you pressed your lips to his tip. But he defied your expectations, his hands leaving you altogether once he had you in place. It was strange but you didn’t complain, focusing instead on his cock. Ben sighed in pleasure as you brought a spit wet palm up to stroke his shaft, your mouth busy becoming acquainted with his tip, but otherwise he made little acknowledgement of your actions. Instead he preoccupied himself getting undressed. You felt more than saw him shimmy out of his jacket, flinging it unceremoniously to the floor behind him. Next came the sound of his wristwatch being placed, much more carefully, on the hall stand beside you. A moment later his cufflinks joined it. When he took off his dress shirt you had to pause your bobbing, letting him fall from your lips as you pulled back to watch. He did have a very nice chest, you remembered that from last time, and you were sure he’d take your looking as a complement. Ben flashed you a pleased look as he noticed you, allowing you to watch as he slipped the shirt from his arms and dropped it to the floor, but once it was off he considered the show over. His fist was once again in your hair, this time much more forcefully tugging you back towards his cock. “I didn’t tell you to stop.” he drawled as you got your lips around his tip and felt his palm pushing you further down his length. You managed okay to start but without being able to control your pace as much you couldn’t keep from gagging as you took Ben deeper. Ben hummed, clearly satisfied with the sound, his hand loosening a little as a reward. You took the hint and found a rhythm that pleased him, working yourself up and down his shaft, your hand stroking whatever wasn’t in your mouth. You gagged a few more times as you pushed yourself further, but Ben definitely enjoyed it when you did. All of a sudden he stopped you, both hands in your hair to keep you from moving. “I think you’re ready now, hands off.” You had no idea what he thought you were ready for but you did as he said, partly because you wanted to prove him wrong about your ability to follow orders, but mostly because you were very turned on and wanted to hurry up and get to the bit where he’d fuck you for real. The thought was distracting enough that you were caught off guard as he pressed his hips forward, pushing more of his cock than you were ready for towards your throat. You gagged again and Ben groaned.

“Good girl, just take it.” He said grunted as he thrust into your mouth again, and then again, not worrying about going slow. Your hair was tangled tight in his fingers, keeping you from moving too far from where he wanted you. Instinct made you try to lean back a little but aside from Ben’s grip, you were too close to the door to get very far. You heard Ben’s knuckles bump against it, the solid wood an intimidating barrier behind you that made it clear you had little choice but to do as Ben wanted. You assumed that if you’d tapped out, Ben would have let you, but you didn’t want to. Ben had been right when he’d said it was hot to be used. You were already very wet but your pussy ached as he fucked your mouth, denying you what you really wanted so he could take what would satisfy him. Each shift of his hips made indecent wet sounds as saliva built up and dripped onto your chin and he pulled more gags from your throat. Tears pooled in your eyes but Ben didn’t seem to care. He kept up fucking you for longer than you might have expected if you’d been able to think clearly enough to guess. Especially with how turned on he must have been, just based on the groans and moans he made as he used you. But finally Ben seemed to reach a limit of just how much pleasure he could withstand. His hips sped up, and he grunted each word on a new thrust as he said, “Gonna fucking cum. You better fucking swallow.” You blinked more tears from your eyes which Ben took as compliance with his wants as he got himself off, rutting against your tongue until he stopped, keeping you pinned between his hips and the door as he filled your mouth with cum. Ben pulled out quickly which you were thankful for. You’d been able to steal breaths throughout the blowjob but had unwittingly held your breath as he finished, and were eager to be free. He took half a step back, hands rising to his hips as he stared you down, daring you to recoil at the taste of his cum or worse still to spit it out. Between heavy breaths through your nose your swallowed, fighting the urge to wipe your eyes or face. “Good girl,” Ben cooed as if he’d expected a brattier display, “I knew that fem dom shit was just a cry for attention. This was what you really wanted all along.” You shook your head so that you could at least say you tried to disagree, but Ben was more concerned with tucking his cock away again and missed the display of defiance altogether. Once he was sorted he helped you up, taking a moment to examine your face before dragging his thumbs under your eyes to clear up the mascara that had transferred there. “Pointless,” he muttered softly when he realised he was mostly just spreading the mascara around, “I’m sure it wont be the last you cry tonight. Unless of course you want to admit you’re nothing more than a desperate whore and beg for my cock.” “I’m not begging,” you frowned, sure he’d be quicker to give in once he got close to your pussy. Ben just smiled, “You will. For now I want you on the bed.” You made to move down the hall but he stopped you before you made it more than a step. “Wait. There’s a rule I have. Whores aren’t allowed to wear clothes past this point. I might make an exception for nice lingerie but not tonight. Not for you.” He didn’t even give you the satisfaction of stripping for him, pulling the zip of your dress down and tugging on your dress until it slipped down to join the mess of discarded menswear on the floor, quickly followed by your bra. “Mmmm,” he hummed as his eyes raked over your naked body, “Perfect. Bed, now.” A spank landed on your arse cheek and you hurried ahead of him, able to feel Ben’s eyes on your arse for the whole length of the corridor.

The upside of being on the bed before Ben had even entered the room was that you had ample time to admire how good he looked without a shirt. You openly ogled him as he moved to the cupboard, taking a moment to dig something out, though his delicious back was blocking your view of what it was. Although your preoccupation with his naked chest also meant you weren’t as observant as you might otherwise have been. You were too distracted to notice him tuck something into his pocket, and you entirely missed it when he began speaking, only realising when he seemed to address you. “-only fair I get to do the same to you, right?” You blinked, knowing you’d missed something but not wanting to let on because you knew he’d be a dick about it. As it was he raised his eyebrows and prompted you to respond, “Well? It’s a simple question. You’re not normally this ditzy, did sucking me off make you too horny to think?” You shook your head, “No Sir, I thought it was rhetorical.” For a moment you weren’t sure your gambit had worked but then Ben laughed, “Almost a shame you’re not so cockdumb yet. But maybe you’re right,” Ben strode around to the top right corner of the bed, squatting slightly to pull something from under the mattress, “My expectation was that you’d agree.” He grabbed your wrist and tugged it back, fitting a black loop around it. As he tightened the restraint you realised what he’d been talking about. That this was pay back for when you’d tied him to the yacht’s bed. He’d been eager for it then, practically walked you through tying sailor worthy knots with the rope, but you couldn’t blame him for wanting to see you bound to his bed in the same way. So you just wriggled yourself into a little more comfort as he rounded the bed and restrained your other wrist too. “Now what are you going to do to me?” you pouted at him coyly, feeling a little like you were poking a bear. “I already told you.” he said, kneeling on the end of the bed, “I’m going to make you beg.” That was when he revealed what he’d taken from his cupboard and tucked into his pocket. The vibrator wasn’t huge but it was powerful, making you jolt as he pressed it to your clit. You squirmed but the wrist cuffs kept you from being able to move too far from its buzzing and you couldn’t help but moan as your long denied orgasm built. Ben quickly stopped the toy, replacing it with his fingers, dragging them through the wetness between your lips, “Go on whore, tell me you want my cock in this needy cunt.” You shook your head, biting your lip to keep from moaning again as his fingers entered you easily. He thrust them in and out of you a few times before bringing the vibrator back to your clit. Whenever Ben sensed you were getting close he’d stop touching you entirely. Sometimes even before you were close, preferring to hedge his bets and stop early rather than risk giving you the orgasm. It would undercut his dominance if you came earlier than he wanted, even if he ruined it. So he was careful with how he edged you. He alternated between his fingers and the vibe. When he felt you were enjoying yourself too much he’d intentionally ignore your clit. You’d be left with three of his fingers pumping into you, hearing Ben make pleased little hums when he found spots within you that made you whine or gasp. When that didn’t seem to be enough to make you give in he upped the ante, pressing the tip of the vibrator into you. It didn’t stretch you as much as his fingers (or his cock) did, but the patterns of vibrations when he turned it on made up for what it lacked in size.

While you’d already decided you’d let Ben have it his way, part of you still wanted him to have to work for it. Unfortunately, any ideas you had about withstanding his onslaught went out the door very quickly. You were way too worked up to hold out and the combination of his fingers and the toy he was fucking into your cunt had you begging in only a few short moments. At your first, “please Sir,” Ben laughed. “Embarrassing how easy that was,” he smirked, “I expected more but I guess you really are just one of my whores.” You whined as he removed the vibrator and his fingers, worried the edging would continue all night. “S’pose it’s about time I fuck you properly. Lord knows im stiff for it.” You watched as he undid his zip and finally removed his pants, his cock semi hard again, and you couldn’t keep yourself from begging again. “Only one question left. How should I do it? Flip you over and take you from behind?” He wrapped his fist around his cock and you whimpered as he stroked himself harder, “Make you ride me? I know how much you like being on top. Think I like the idea of seeing you under me too much for that. This time anyway. No, I know what I want.” His breath came a little harder as he moved onto the bed, cock still in hand as he pushed your legs open again. “I want you to watch me while I fuck you. I want you right where you are, tied up, incapable of dominating me. You’ll soon see how much you like it.” As he spoke he pressed against your hole, teasing you one final time before he finally gave you what you wanted. His cock slipped in easily, and Ben’s groan was nearly as loud as yours. At another time, with free hands and a clearer mind, you might have enjoyed that more, knowing Ben was as desperate as you were. But after so much edging and teasing, you could only focus on how good and full you felt. Ben’s eagerness extended beyond just sounds of delight too. Any plans he might have had to draw it out, go slow and deep to torment you more, went out the window as soon as he felt you clench around his shaft. His hips jolted forward, cock sinking into your audibly wet cunt, and he couldn’t help but do it again and again, falling into a rapid rhythm. Barely half his length made it in you, his thrusts too rapid to allow him to get much deeper, but it didn’t matter. The feeling of him dragging against your walls would have been enough, but Ben also added a thumb to your clit. He rubbed you messily, more concerned with how it felt to be inside you, but you didn’t need much stimulation to get close again. “Cum,” he said simply when you moaned about how good he felt. He fucked you through the first orgasm, praising you for being such a good whore, not even relenting when you were panting, no longer arching under him. “You’re going to cum again, sweetheart” he ordered, pounding into you with a particularly hard thrust that made your head spin. A slight breathlessness was the only sign he was at all worked up, which just added to his control, and all you could do was nod in agreement, sure you would cum as many times as he wanted no matter how hard it became. Ben chuckled, clearly pleased with how fucked out and compliant you were, but focused his energy into fucking you rather than any banter. You squirmed a little more, a touch sensitive after your first orgasm, but not uncomfortably so, and your second came up quickly too, your body eager for release after being denied it for so long. Ben didn’t last much longer either, the feeling of your cunt tightening round his cock again enough to undo him. He groaned more and more as he got closer, finally pressing himself as deep as you could take him as he hit his release with a satisfied moan.

Ben collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you comfortingly into the mattress as his lips found your neck. He was breathing harder now, the puffs of warmth tickling your skin. You groaned as you tried to shift under him, your thighs aching from being spread open, but you found you couldn’t close them since Ben was still filling you. “Uh uh uh,” he tutted into your skin, “Didn’t say you could shut your legs.” He pushed himself back up, leaning back to look at himself disappearing into you, “You look good like this.” You shivered as he ran a finger around where you were stretched around his length, your wrists jolting in the bonds. Ben remained thoughtfully silent for a moment, absentmindedly touching your pussy and your thighs, as he took in your dishevelled and restrained appearance. “I think I want to see you cum again.” “Again?” you whimpered, partly from his touch and partly from his tone. He answered by reaching for the vibrator again, pressing it to your clit and holding it there until he’d forced a third orgasm from you, just because he could. It was good but a lot, your body more sensitive now, and unable to move as freely as you’d have liked. There was no escaping the stimulation, no shifting your hips to change the angle of the vibrations or to spread them over more of your cunt than just your clit. You had to take it the way Ben wanted you to, the vibrators setting higher than you would have chosen, pressed firmly in place until your toes curled and your thighs shook. Ben pulled out as you neared the climax, so that when you came he could watch his own release dribble onto the sheets, grinning cockily at the sight. When he was finally satisfied, he turned the toy off and let you collapse, chuckling as he leaned over to free you from the restraints. Gently he rubbed your wrists, making sure you were okay as you gathered your senses. “What was it you said about me not caring if my whores get off?” he asked, flopping on top of you again. You wanted to come back with something clever but your brain was still too hazy to manage anything more than, “Oh shut up.” “You beg real fucking pretty by the way. It’s obvious I’m the best you’ve had.” You rolled your eyes at his smirking, the insufferable way he was speaking reigniting your desire to put him in his place, “Keep being such an ass and I’ll have to pick out a toy to use on you.” You squeaked as Ben cut you off, grabbing your cheeks so your lips were pushed into a pout. “No. Eager and willing sluts don’t threaten their Sir’s. While you’re here, you’re mine,” his hand covered your cunt possessively, “I’m going to want you again tonight and I expect you to keep being the good girl I know you secretly love being.” You swallowed thickly, nodding in his grasp. Ben let you go and, as if to soften his words or placate you, added, “But maybe tomorrow I’ll let you tell me some of your silly ideas, see if you can convince me they’re more fun than fucking my new toy brainless.”

#ben hardy smut #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #my writing #my fics

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tokkias · 1 year

Text

The out of order sign taped to the elevator in Lucy’s apartment building was just the cherry on top of her terrible, horrible, no-good day.

Perfect, great, just splendid. This was exactly what she had needed after walking barefoot home in the rain, carrying her broken high heels through the streets after finding her car had been (in her opinion) unfairly towed. Lucy thanked every star that she only lived on the fifth floor, but that was still five flights too many, and her body cried out in aches and pains every step of the way. The throbbing pain in her back refused to let out as she trudged down the hallway to her door, her legs aching in protest until she found a small moment of respite as she leaned against the wall by her front door, rummaging through her bag to look for her keys and-

Oh shit.

She let her shoes clatter to the floor as she desperately searched every nook and pocket to try and find the last thing standing in the way between her and a nice hot shower. In her desperation, she dumped everything onto the ground, well beyond the point of caring if her neighbours gave her weird looks.

Phone. Wallet. Pens. Tampons. Lipstick. Notebook.

No keys.

Lucy couldn’t even recall where she had last seen them. Had she locked them in her apartment? Maybe she had left them at work, or locked them in her car, or god forbid, dropped them on her walk home. Right now, she was simply not capable of the brainpower to think of where she could have lost them; every ounce of her energy being directed into trying her best not to burst into tears.

To save herself some face, she began to gather up her belongings, putting them back in her bag, before she was hit with her first good idea of the day. Natsu had the spare key to her apartment! Any other time she may have been frustrated that she hadn’t simply left her spare under the mat at her front door, but at the moment, she was just taking any win she could. For the first time today, she felt a small rush of joy fill her body; not only would she get back into her apartment, but she would also have an excuse to make Natsu order pizza, or Chinese, or anything that didn’t involve her having to cook for herself. Now, if only her phone weren’t dead.

What was happening to her today? Had she pissed off some sort of deity that she didn’t even know existed? Or was Murphy’s Law just out to get her?

"Stupid Natsu, taking my stupid key," she grumbled, pulling her knees to her chest and letting her forehead fall against them.

"Oi, what’d I do? You were the one who gave me the key." His voice came like an angel from the heavens above, and for a moment, Lucy was almost certain that she was imagining things, but no, there he was, standing in her doorway, and for once, she was thankful that this man had no regard for when it was appropriate to break into his girlfriend’s apartment. She all but threw herself at him, forcing her dead weight upon him while she lazily tossed her arms around his neck, taking in the first good moment of her day.

"Carry me." She demanded, and with a light chuckle, he obliged, hooking his arms around her knees before lifting her up and wrapping her legs around his torso.

"Geez, so bossy," he joked, earning him a weak smack from his woeful girlfriend, who was much more preoccupied with shoving her face as far into his collarbone as she physically could.

Careful not to drop her, Natsu kicked her shoes and bag through the doorway, before using his foot to shut the door behind them. Usually he would have taken a moment to tease her just a little more in her misfortune, but her genuinely pathetic looking state advised him against it, instead indulging her request and bringing her over to couch, where he plopped her down, landing with a bounce on the plush surface.

Immediately, Lucy threw her head back, squeezed her eyes shut, and let out a long and unfiltered groan of frustration.

"Rough day?" Natsu asked, dropping down on the couch beside her.

She merely nodded in response, her hands in fists as the bottoms of her palms pressed against her eyes in a futile attempt to keep the tears from coming out.

"The story I’ve been working on for three months just got pulled from underneath me, I spilled coffee on the hard drive that my novel was on, and then when I went to get myself some comfort food from the coffee place downstairs, I left my wallet back in the office!" The tears were running freely down her face, but she didn’t have it in her to care anymore, instead pouring all her effort into airing her day's grievances out to Natsu, who listened intently, sympathetically rubbing his hand on her thigh. "And then my boss called me into his office, and I thought he was finally going to reassign me to a good story, but he just said that my skirt was too short and it was making the guys in the office uncomfortable!"

"Well, if it makes ya feel better, I think your short skirts are great," he quipped, a mischievous grin on his face as he pulled her into his lap and gave her butt a playful squeeze, to which she just rolled her eyes in response before resting her forehead on his shoulder. His arms wrapped tightly around her, and he planted a kiss on her temple while he rubbed gentle circles on her arms with his thumbs.

It felt good to finally let it all out. It felt even better to have Natsu here to listen. Maybe it was because they had been best friends for years before they started dating, but he somehow always knew just how to make her feel better. Just being around him, being in his arms, made it feel like all the bad things could just melt away into nothing.

"I just want to shower and go to bed," she grumbled into his shoulder.

"Alright," he hummed, giving her no time to react before he lifted her off the couch, eliciting a surprised squeak from her as she frantically wrapped her legs around his waist to hold herself up.

Once the initial shock of being swept up into his arms wore off, she relaxed slightly, burying her face into his chest and taking in his comforting scent.

Before she was able to get too comfortable, she felt her feet hit the cool tile floor of the bathroom. She let out a soft whine at the loss of his warmth as he abandoned her to turn on the tap, letting the water warm up for her.

"I’m gonna go get us some towels," he told her, ruffling her hair before making his exit.

As soon as he left, Lucy began to shed her miserable work clothing, tugging her shirt over her head and peeling off her accursed miniskirt that she was sure she would never wear again after today. She let out a sigh of relief as she ditched her bra, freeing herself from the pain of her underwire and the pinching of the straps. After kicking off her panties somewhere to the side, she finally found herself stepping into the shower that she had been dreaming of all day.

She hissed slightly as her skin met the scalding water before pulling herself away from the stream and adjusting the temperature.

"You always turn it up too hot," she pouted when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist, and a chin rest on her shoulder.

"You always turn it too cold," he replied, his lips grazing against the soft skin of her shoulder.

"I’m not about to burn my skin off tonight because you wanted to intrude on my shower," she grumbled back.

She couldn’t bring herself to want to kick him out because after today she really did want his company, shower or not. Her decision was firmly reinforced when she felt his hands roam up her back before resting on her shoulders, where he began to rub his thumbs into the strained muscles.

Lucy sighed in blissful pleasure as his hands worked out all the kinks and aches that had built up in her neck and shoulders over the course of her miserable, pathetic day. His hands were always so warm, and combined with the hot water running across her skin, Lucy finally felt her body relax. Her legs still struggled to hold up her weight, but Natsu was more than happy to hold her up as she leaned back on him. He ran his hands down her arms until they rested lightly on her hips before trailing up her waist to her boobs, where he gave them both a quick squeeze, to which Lucy rolled her eyes in response.

Leaning against him, she tilted her head back, resting the crown of her head against his chest so she could look up at his face. His pink locks, dampened from the water, now fell across his forehead and over his eyes. It had grown longer than she knew he liked, but it was kind of cute in her opinion.

"Can you wash my hair for me?" She asked, fluttering her eyelashes at him, "please?"

With the sweet expression she was giving him and how sad and pathetic she looked when she arrived home, he would be remiss to deny her.

"Sure thing," he murmured, placing a kiss against her forehead before reaching for her shampoo bottle.

It was the same floral-scented stuff she used all the way back in high school when they met, and the smell of it had become synonymous with Lucy in his mind. She would never admit it out loud, but the only reason she had kept using it for so long was because she knew that Natsu liked it. Even before they started dating, he’d bury his face in her hair and let himself be comforted by the all-encompassing scent of his Lucy.

Dispensing a small amount into his hand, Natsu began to massage it into her roots. Lucy hummed in contentment, relishing in the feeling of his fingers working into her scalp as the warm water washed over her body. When she felt his touch leave her, she turned her back to the showerhead to rinse the suds out of her hair, only to be met with Natsu looking down at her with that smile that she had fallen so hard for. She reached up to drag her hands through his hair before resting her arms on his shoulders. Her arms ached in protest, but the pain seemed to be more tolerable with the shower’s warmth soothing her muscles, and the smile of the man standing before her. He couldn’t make all of her pain go away, but she just couldn’t find it in herself to be miserable around him, especially not when he was going out of his way to make her feel better.

"You have so much hair," he commented, running his fingers through it, "it’s real pretty."

Natsu always made it known that she was so much more than her appearance, but hearing him compliment her like that never failed to make her heart flutter. He always knew the right things to say to turn her insides to mush, even without trying.

"Are you going to finish washing it, then?" She asked innocently.

"Damn, bossy, and impatient?" He quipped, a cheeky grin crossing his face.

"I am neither of those things!" Lucy whined, leveraging her arms' position to give him a weak whack on the back of his head.

"I’m just kiddin’," he laughed. "course I’ll finish washing it. I wouldn’t leave ya hanging, Lucy."

Letting her arms drop to her sides, Lucy reached for her conditioner, passing it to Natsu and turning back around to let him run the product through her hair. He dragged his fingers through her golden tresses from scalp to tips, gently tugging out the knots that had formed throughout the day as he applied the conditioner, enjoying the way her hair felt against his skin. When he reached the tips of her hair at her lower back, he made sure to give her butt a squeeze, just for good measure.

She shot him a glare over her shoulder, only to be met with a cheeky smile plastered across his face.

"What?" He grinned, "ya got a cute butt."

He gave it a light smack, earning him a half-hearted eyeroll from Lucy as she reached for the soap. She ran it up and down her arms, neck, and torso before giving herself a much-needed rinse down, washing away all the sweat and grime that had built up over the day that was beginning to make her feel disgusting and icky.

"Want me to do your back?" Natsu asked, gesturing to the bar in her hand.

"Yes please," she hummed, passing it to him before pulling her hair over her shoulder to expose her back.

The feeling of his hands across the bare skin of her back sent shivers up her spine in the best way possible. He was thorough with it (because he knew she would complain about it if he wasn’t), and made sure to pay special attention to the muscles he had noticed were tense earlier, rubbing with light pressure that made her groan in bliss.

"Alright, done," he told her, signalling for her to turn around and rinse the suds off of her body.

She tilted her head to let the water run down her hair, eyes closed as she enjoyed the warmth it provided, rinsing the rest of the conditioner out of it and letting the soap lather wash off of her back and down the drain. When her eyes fluttered open to meet his, she gestured for him to pass the bar back to her.

"Okay, your turn," she hummed.

"Huh?" He tilted his head slightly in confusion.

"You washed my back, now I get to wash yours," she replied, "now turn around."

Mildly amused by her random assertiveness, he obliged with her request, letting her scrub down his back, taking her time to feel the ripple of every back muscle under her skin (and, of course, making sure to get her revenge by smacking his butt as she did so). She shuffled out of the way a little, freeing up the stream of water for him to rinse the soap off and finish cleaning himself before they could leave and he could make good on the second part of her request: going to bed.

She stepped out of the shower before him, taking the time he spent washing himself up to dry herself off. He had made sure to grab her favourite, fluffy towels that she saved for special occasions when she felt like pampering herself, and this felt like an appropriate time to use them. Flipping her hair over, she wrapped it tightly in one of them to ensure she wouldn’t be dripping all over the carpet. With the other, she dragged it across her body, letting it soak up the droplets of water that clung to her skin before wrapping it around her chest, tucking one corner under to hold it up and cover her indecency.

Not long after, Natsu had stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel of his own to dry himself off.

"Feeling better?" He asked, to which Lucy responded with a soft nod as she buried her face in his chest. "Now, can ya walk to bed, or am I gonna have to carry you again?"

"Well if you’re offering," she said, looking up at him coyly before stretching out her arms to signal that she did indeed want to be carried again.

She hooked them at the back of his neck as he lifted her up, one arm under her arms and the other under her knees, carrying her like a newlywed bride. With each step, he placed a wet, sloppy kiss on her face, which was met with a cacophony of giggles that he was sure he would never tire of. When he reached her room, he tossed her on her bed, where she landed with a soft bounce, before he threw himself onto the mattress next to her.

Rolling on his side, he pulled her closer to him, and she nestled her face in the crook of his neck. The tips of his fingers ran across her back, tracing random patterns on her soft skin, providing comfort with his touch. It was like all of her woes had been washed away down the drain. Any grievances that she once had no longer held any real estate in her mind, instead being filled only with thoughts of him.

"I love you," she mumbled, her voice muffled from how far she had buried herself in his embrace.

"What was that?"

Lucy rolled her eyes, knowing full well that he could hear exactly what she said, but deciding to humour him, tilting her head back to meet his gaze. "I said I love you."

"I love you too," he grinned, his teeth bared and eyes squinted slightly, just the way she liked it.

She wrapped an arm around his back, resting her forehead against his chest, letting herself be comforted by the gentle rise and fall of it with each breath he took. It reminded her how lucky she was to have someone like Natsu. No, not someone like Natsu; how lucky she was to have her Natsu.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"For what?"

"Being here for me," she replied.

There was no one who knew her better than he did; no one who could make her feel as good, as happy as Natsu. He knew all of her quirks and ticks—all the ways to make her laugh, make her smile. She would spend every day for the rest of her life at his side if he would let her, and she was fairly certain he would too.

"It’s just part of the job description," he joked, "I take care of ya, and then I get to touch your boobs."

"Pervert."

"Yeah, but you like it," he smirked, rolling over and trapping her between his arms so he could look down and admire her.

Her hands tangled through his hair, still damp from their shower, before pulling him down to meet her lips. She smiled into their kiss, letting herself melt against his touch, letting herself melt into him.

#mya writes things #nalu #fanfiction #fan fiction #i need a new writing tag #long post

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theorist-influencer-untitled · 7 months

Text

10.29.23 Sunday

1:13 am

I feel bitter, I have this windblow....I wanna punch but it will be on air... I feel bitter angels!

I can't find my soul-mate... I can't find my own group... I mean new friends are different on your group...Group means more than new friends that you meet along the way....Group means it is like your some good old friends,who are willing to take you as you, no matter how crazy you are or how crazy you can be...

I'm still thinking of SEX with someone mutual with me willing to show genuine care and love...

I hope to meet him soon....I feel bitter!

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3:43 am

Oh! My God... I don't know what to feel... Done, showering at 3:45 am... The leopard is hurting coz of what Miles or dread-locks guy did to me awhile ago... Miles or dread-locks guy or Miles' wife texted me this...

Miles' cute2x wifey... You are now part of my showbiz world but all my emotions are real... I miss my some old good friends... I need friends to share this in reality but all of them are gone, in a way they are in USA or other parts of the world or super busy on their own family...

I don't know... Where are my true fucking friends??!

It is shocking coz messages are supposed to be private... Or was it my WRONG SENT?? probably or possibly... Or typographical error??? hmm... it can be...

Miles is hurting me for this...

4:05 pm

I need to calm down though it hurts,angels...

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4:18 am

I'm hurting angels... I believe I have sanity and maturity... That's life... SOME ALLEGATIONS ON ME OR ON YOU...

But still you love the person... He is a child... So sad...

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4:41 am

Can't sleep...I have windblow... Whew! I feel sad....It is weird... I have to work and think of money and meet new souls... Religious,hygienic and someone will care and love me truly... A new set of friends hoping and praying....

Waiting for rewave and work is work...

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11:10 am

Good Day! Angels... Mastering this "Kill Bill" hmm... Just like my first rap song that I learned the "Kiss Me More"... I practiced that around 100 times just to get the timing coz it was my first rap song.

Did I mention here that I used to be one of the singers in bar club here near the SM Bacoor, the "Water Village"....My voice was kinda different before actually we were 3 singers there...

We were 3 college graduate singers of Mr Pio or Daddy Pio, thanks to him for allowing me to heal and giving us our allowances those days and for taking care of us....We were 3 singers there, 2 from La Salle me and the other singer and the one from PCU? if I'm remembering everything correctly and one was my churchmate or religion mate in Iglesia Ni Cristo or Church Of Christ ( my old religion???)

I'm already a college graduate those years then whenever I got broken-hearted it is my way to heal my inner soul...

I stopped going to medicine school on my first year and I got a lot of side comments and bashers about me, not being able to pass my med school. But it wasn't work that way... It was my own personal thing to grow as a human adult. I finished B.S. Biology in "De La Salle" here in Cavite... But my entire first year was in " Far Eastern University or FEU" where I got good fair good grades until my 2nd year college that I transferred here in De La Salle Cavite.

Unzipping things that it is not actually my character... But these days came that I have to put my heart's content...

Whew! It is so childish and immature if I had explained my grades in FEU... But these days came that I have to put a shield on me...To be fair on some bashers, some old friends and some old teachers or some neighbour or even some old religion-mates who keep on saying that they care for me or just a reverse???

11:43 am

My grades in FEU angels are reverse here in De La Salle the grading system.... So,there you go the real explanation... But I was just an average student and I never kill anyone's ego or pride at the back stage without them knowing... There were "lazy days" and days of questioning a lot of things in my head. Days that I wasn't that "FOCUS" yet...

Well, anyways... It was my own personal life and my own life....It was about my shallow virginity and my innocent days...

My "shallow virginity"?? Does anybody cares for it these days??? It was a weird topic,you broke it and someone's got it and they caged you for 16 years and nobody wants to have it....So, it is just a shallow thing to talk about... But, it is something for someone but it didn't measure your entire whole being, even being brainy or not...

1:15 pm

You can't have a group with children and people who don't like you at all... I'm not gonna dwell on those people who couldn't just understand the rule in the world... Why, would I push my view and why should I care to let them comprehend the real flow in the world...

Still, waiting for rewave in Iqor... I have to dwell on my work status and I need money... I still wanna meet soul who can love and care for me and a group of people who can accept me...

Though, I never say I don't like HIM... I like HIM...

2:18 pm

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2:29 pm

I always wanted an "orange" lip tint then I accidentally bought that "red orange" coz that was the only available color on that store that day... Then, I'm able to use it today to express my inner pain... Did someone make my lips bleed???

Anyways, it is Sunday here... Happy Blessed Sunday!!!

I feel bitterish and sad and depressing... Worrying so much of my future angels....I always lost spot in the crowd these days....Nobody actually like me these days... I feel sad and depressing... Still, thinking of money and my job... I still wanna see sand-dunes and some plastics at the right timing coz there is no LIFE here for me....But I need a job waiting for that fucking rewave in Iqor...

I still feel fat,old,wrinkled and ugly... I have so many complexities these days... I feel super old... I hate this "deep smile lines"... I wanna meet new soul who can care and love and new group just for me with intellectual mind.

5:09 pm

I still have windblow....Not my ideal life here with Uncle Jun... All my dreams fell apart since 2007... I feel bitter...

Thinking of money and my own future... I really wanna travel and to remove my deep smile lines... I have so many frustrations.

5:55 pm

Uncle DD is suddenly here... Shocking... Simply checking their house at the side...

Uncle DD told me that why I didn't tell him that they are already have an electric there... I told him, I thought Uncle Jun was the one who told him...

I'm not sure if Uncle DD is having ( present continuos tense ) sanity...

6:16 pm

This Uncle Jun seems strange as well... He commented on Ivan that when did he do his circumcision? Hmm.... Strange...

I need a job angels... I wanna have my own life,thinking of money...

7:24 pm

Done, eating dinner and tomorrow is an another voting day for baranggay or small councils in this fucking hometown...

Not really happy... Not happy being here but I have to be here for awhile....I need a job and money... I feeel bitter for not able to fix myself on the 2nd spin of my 2nd childhood...

This is so funny right? The term 2nd childhood can be used as negative or positive... If it is something positive meaning you have your job or success in life then you can fix your teeth again and perfect your nose probably, be skinny though you are old but supposed to be golden or perhaps having children and husband and doing my perfection on beauty like removing my deep smile lines and me with my baby John able to join dog show... These are positive 2nd childhood!

Everything fell-apart on me... My stars are not on the good alignment... I'm always defeated for 16 years... I lost my spot... I never feel beautiful... Sometimes, I wanna cry... Never got the chance to meet positive people on the other side of the world coz of the windblow or trap in this fucking hometown...

I just need to move on and get a job and work and hoping I can buy starbucks everyday....I know walking is sometimes healthy and it is sad you are accepting the fact that you will have your "death march" but then someone just broke your heart...

8:19 pm

I'm thinking of money and my rewave.... I'm still thinking of money and rewave...

I feel frustrated on SEX! I feel that someone just took my right to feel and to feel beautiful or my right to be loved by someone...

This is really serious angels... I feel depress for not being able to meet a good soul who is willing to show love and care and respect my needs...

"The Needs"....The "needs" on someone... I want someone mutual... I feel depress...

#Youtube

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anna1306 · 2 years

Text

Little guy

Thanks to @aarachnee , who corrected my mistakes here and showed me how to write in more correct way c:

Part 1 here | Part 3

Marko x GN!Reader

"Babe, it's totally not cool, come on!"

You've been sitting in your bathroom for the past five minutes, listening to this biker guy at the other side of the locked door. He used to be Dude just six minutes ago. And now he became a man. Your mind just didn't understand anything, almost giving you a blue screen, as if you were a computer.

"It's just a dream..." You whispered. "It's my dream, it's supposed be strange, right!"

"Y/N, it's not a dream. Come on, open up, you said it yourself that I am ungrateful, I want to thank you properly." Dude almost whined at the door.

"Get away!" You yelled at him. "You are either a dream, or a maniac. If you go inside, I will scream and call for help!"

"Neighbours, who are out of town? Please, don't make laugh." He scoffed. "Please, baby, open, I will explain everything..."

"Get out!" You screamed again. The next second you heard a groan and then... A loud crack of broken wood and in a moment the door was swung open, revealing the boy on the other side, holding the broken handle.

"It was that easy? They don't know how to make doors these days. So, anyway!" He grinned at you, stepping into the bathroom. "Finally I can see you and we can have a talk."

"Don't come closer." You grabbed the first thing that was close to you and pointed it at him threateningly.

"Look, I know I don't like to bath, but seriously? Shower gel?" He scoffed, and you threw the bottle at him out of frustration. "That's it!" He launched himself onto you, grabbing you and returning to the room. You kicked him, but he break through your resistance very easily, dropping you on the bed. And pinning you to it. "Now... Calm down and just talk to me. I won't hurt you or do anything to you, I swear."

"Why do I not believe you?" You struggled for a minute and got tired, seeing no exit from his grip. You sighed, looking at the grinning boy with visible suspicion. Strangely, but you felt safe near him. Still it was super weird that a bat turned into a human, but... You had read about more creepy things. "I'm listening."

"You sure? You won't hit me or throw me in a closet for a day?" He wiggled his brows and finally let go of you.

"Don't tempt me." You warned him. The boy laughed, letting go of your hands. You rubbed your wrists. If he knew about your threat and the closet, then... Shit, it still didn't connect. "How?"

"Well, it's a long story. Shortly - I'm a vampire."

"Funny joke, yeah. There are no vampires"

"And bats turn into humans every day?" He giggled. You shut up, realising that in this situation it really was... Very unusual. To say the least. Vampires didn't seem unlikely variant here after all.

"Alright, you have a point... But what the hell? Why were you in a dumpster, wounded and all of that?" You looked at him questioningly. He rolled his eyes.

"Stupid hunters attacked me and while my "friend" was carrying me back to the cave he fucking dropped me because he was high - both literally and figuratively. Stupid dipshit" The blonde grumbled. You furrowed your brows at the news.

"Wait a minute... friend? There are more people like... you?"

"Well, technically we aren't people, but yeah. Don't worry, if you aren't ready, you aren't going to meet them" He smiled and shifted into a more comfortable position. Only then you realized that he was still on top of you, straddling your thighs.

"Get off of me" You pushed his shoulders, making him fall over on the bed. The blonde only laughed, while you sat and tried to place everything together. "So. You are a vampire, you can turn into a bat. You were injured and that's why I found you in the dumpster. And there are more vampires in the town, is that right?"

"Pretty much yes"

"Why?"

"What why?"

"Why are you here? To kill me? Why didn't you do it earlier, so you could feed on my blood and go back to your friends?" It looked like your question got him thinking. He tapped his chin with a finger, looking at something in the corner, and shrugged after a minute.

"I don't know. I guess I was so... Surprised by your desire to help a wild animal and by your... Strictness, I just wanted to learn about you more." He smiled almost innocently. "Besides..." Suddenly the blonde looked away and you could swear you saw a hint of blush. "You are pretty. Very much so. I just couldn't... You know... Deprive the world of such beauty."

You blinked. Twice. You didn't move, looking at him, and then just full on laughed. You threw your head back, not caring for his stare and the look of surprise.

"Dude, that was the cheesiest pick-up line I have ever heard." You managed to say through your laughter. In a second he joined in on your laughter before he suddenly leaned in to your face and kissed your nose.

"Marko. This is my name. You can call me Dude, if you want to, but..."

"Marko." You blushed, being near his face. "Got it." He grinned satisfied. "So... What's next?"

"Well, I am offering you a night ride. And I can answer all of your questions, if you want to." Marko jumped from the bed, giving you a hand. You furrowed.

"A ride? What, are you gonna carry me on your little wings?" You scoffed. The boys laughed, obviously imagining that.

"You are funny, I like it even more. Come on, I parked bike nearby." He grabbed your hand, tugging you to him and making you stand up. You followed him to the door, but then stopped, realising something.

"Wait, bike?! Those bikers that surrounded neighborhood and messed my schedule even more than it already was with all the noise - your friends?!" He looked at you a little bit tensed up.

"Kinda?.."

"I'm gonna kill them, so much sleep loss and nerves! More so, my neighbor annoyed me with it, thinking I am responsible for this, urgh!"

"You are way late for killing them, but meh... You can try. Let's go, we still have the whole night!" He obviously just wanted you out with him. And you almost gave in. Almost.

"Wait for god damn minute! Let me change into normal clothes, I'm from work and in the uniform. Get out of the room!" You tried to push him away from the room, and he only scoffed.

"Come on, what I didn't see... There." He understood what he said only after look at your face. You blushed up to the ears, looking at him surprised and angrily.

"You little... YOU SAW ME NAKED!!!" You smacked his shoulder. He darted to the door, getting out before you threw a book in his back. It hit the door and fell down. "I'm gonna beat your ass, you are dead meat!!!"

"I'm waiting for you, sweetheart!" He laughed, screaming back. From the stomping you could hear, you knew he ran to the exit. You groaned, going to your closet. But you couldn't help, but smile. At least you wouldn't be bored in the nearest future, you were sure about that.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, thinking for a minute that it was foolish of you to go out with a monster from the fairytales. Behind the window you heard the roar of a bike engine. You smiled at your reflection, grabbing the bag with necessities and going out from the room. Well, now it was up to your luck.

The Lost Boys Taglist: @minafromasgard @starmullet @iloveslasher @twistedharper @ichorixm @promptsforstuff @collieflower215

#tlb #thelostboys #thelostboys1987 #tlb1987 #marko tlb #reader insert #marko x reader #tlb imagine #the lost boys imagine #x reader #gender neutral

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

total opposites

You and Toge swap bodies after encountering a fairytale curse, and similar to its origin, it also takes a fairytale method to break it.

REQUEST. body swap au + best friends to lovers

CONTENT/WARNINGS. slight crack fic, some cursing, implications of nsfw but nothing explicit, just Toge being a not-so closet pervert, usual best friend bickering, reader is fem bodied, unedited story (I should stop saying this, everyone knows I don’t edit my stuff)

NOTES. I enjoyed writing this, tysm for the request anon, this was really cute! definitely this is shooting up in one of my fav works ever (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

You stretched your arms overhead, feeling great after sleeping in. It wasn’t common of you to sleep this late, but you and Toge had gone stargazing the night before. A smile made its way to your face as you reminisced him reciting rice ball ingredients, signing that he was telling poetry to ‘match the mood’ until you’d both fallen asleep on the soft blanket atop a hill.

You don’t remember how you made it back to your room, but figured that Toge had carried you back home before the sun rose. Making a mental note to thank your best friend later, you yawned as you padded out to your room, hands rubbing in circles at your stomach.

Hopefully breakfast would be amazing today.

The door next to you opened, revealing your younger classmate, and you frowned, because wasn’t Kugisaki your next door neighbour? Well, whatever, he, Yuuji, and Kugisaki might’ve taken advantage of the rare, peaceful weekend that they probably had a movie marathon the night before.

“Morning, Megumi!” you greeted, coughing a bit when you sounded off, throat a little horse and itchy. At the sound of your voice, Megumi stilled in his tracks, eyes wide at you. His comical expression had you barking in laughter, shooting finger guns his way as you wiggled your eyebrows. “Ey, be a good dog and bark for me, will you?”

Semi-visible sonic waves drifted like waves after one another out your mouth. Megumi scowled before he froze the next second, ears perked up and backside wagging in replacement of a tail. “Woof woof!”

“What the hell?” you reeled back in slight disgust, your underclassman’s cheeks burning red. Then, your lips grazed against a soft cloth, making you look down.

You blinked back once. Twice. You were definitely...built different today. Curiously, you tugged at the zipper peaking out from your black collar, the familiar zhoop sound of the zipper burned into your memory after hearing your best friend do it countless times before.

In front of you, Megumi screeched – the most noise he’d made ever since you met him – his jaw dropped open while you – or rather Toge stood at the end of the hallway, his hands squeezing at your breasts that were still under last night’s pyjamas. You blinked back once. Then twice, steam pouring from your nose when Toge, in your body, pointed at his body.

“Oh, oh!” your scream bounced off the hallways hard enough that Panda slammed his door open, about to tell everyone to shut up when your voice let out a high-pitched scream.

“What are you doing in my body?!”

Looking down at where Toge was pointing, you were greeted by the sight of his dark uniform and sock clad feet, your chest replaced with hard muscles instead of the soft flesh. You turned to Toge with a stupefied look that mirrored his, both of you falling on the ground with fists pounding on the hardwood floor.

“I’m a fucking girl!” he cried out, whether out of happiness or frustration, it was hard to tell.

Meanwhile, you zipped his collar back up, tugging at his off-white hair as you forced yourself to remember his limited vocabulary. “BONITO FLAKES!”

Now you understood Toge’s frustration of being a cursed speech user.

“Bonito Flakes” definitely did not hold the same fury as “FUCK” did.

“You and I need to set down some boundaries,” you signed to him, brows pulled together. Toge seemed to be enjoying this sudden body swap a lot more than you did since he hadn’t stopped posing in the mirror the moment you pushed him back to your room, locking it shut to get some privacy. “You are not, under any circumstances, allowed to shower, do you understand?”

Toge scowled at your words, sassy as ever with his hands placed on his hips, buttocks jutted out. You hated, absolutely hated that he used your body this way because this time you couldn’t even laugh – not when seeing your body felt this awkward.

“You would really rather me stink?”

“You can’t undress too! Ever! Or if you will, your eyes better be closed. No peeking too!”

“Y/N, you and I grew up together. I’ve already seen everything,” he rolled his eyes, earning him a hard slap from the arm. Considering he was a lot more muscular than you were, your hit came a lot harder. “Ow!” he protested, rubbing the sore spot that ached, only to laugh at the sounds emitting from his lips. “Wow, I have to admit that this is really fun though. I’m actually talking,” he announced, “Hey, say salmon for me.”

“Bonito flakes!” you shook your head, “The moment Principal Yaga is back, we’re going to talk to him, okay? I don’t want to be stuck in your body any longer!”

“Please, you’re lucky you get to feel me up,” he winked at you, taking your (his) hands to flatten it on his stomach. “Come on, come on, feel my abs!” Whack. “Would you please stop slapping me? Your body is a lot more delicate than mine and my hands are – stop slapping me!”

Feeling bad for your friend and not wanting to abuse your body too much, you raised your hands in surrender with a roll of your eyes. “I can’t take you seriously with that voice. You’re too cute.”

“Complimenting ourselves now, aren’t we?” he scoffed, “Well, whatever, you are cute, especially when you’re angry. Such a shame I can’t see you do that right now because my handsome face is looking back at me.”

“I won’t hesitate to choke you, my friend.”

“You wouldn’t. You adore your body too much,” contrary to his words, Toge pulled a defensive stance. You threw a pillow at him, to which he easily dodged, clutching at the hem of your pyjamas afterwards. “Speaking of bodies, I really need to pee.”

“Hold it!”

“Are you insane? I’m not holding it, you’re going to kill us both!”

“Fine, I’ll take you to the rest room then,” you tugged at the hood of your shirt, pushing him inside the communal female restroom. Toge stood in the middle shock still, evidently flustered at the stalls and lack of urinals. You flicked a finger on his forehead, finger pointed to a stall. “Go pee. That’s my body – I need to make sure you’re not going to do anything weird with it.”

“I thought you trusted me, friend. Why would you think I’d touch you that way?”

You gave him an ‘are you serious?’ look. “You jack off every fucking night, Toge. I can hear you even from the next hallway. Plus, you’re a horny teenage male, who’s to say you wouldn’t be curious and try to see what female masturbation feels like?”

His eyes lit up at the idea, fist coming down to bounce at the palm of his hand as he nodded. “That’s actually a good idea—”

“Don’t you even dare.”

“What?!” you and Toge both exclaimed. He faced you with utter horror written on his face and you gasped, slapping both palms over your lips.

“It is true,” Principal Yaga affirmed with a grim look on his face. He’d recently got back to fetch your troublesome Gojo-Sensei who’d been caught starting a ruckus in Roponggi while women flocked around him, leading to your principal to haul his ass back to the school grounds. “Some curses are manifested through daily objects, and sometimes even through nature. That shooting star you saw was an example of that.”

“But is kissing really necessary?” Toge queried with a wary gaze sent your way.

“It’s a fairytale curse. It can only be broken through a true love’s kiss.”

“But sir, Toge and I have never dated anyone before. How can we miraculously fall in love with someone to break this curse overnight?”

“It doesn’t have to happen overnight. Sometimes, a simple crush will do,” Principal Yaga sighed, scratching his bald head with his face pulled deep in thought. “Y/N, you have a crush on Gojo-Sensei right? I’m going to kill him if he actually kisses you – and knowing that damn brat he might if you ask him – but I think a kiss on the cheek will suffice. For now, you both just have to...broaden your relationships. Maybe go out on dates.”

“I don’t mind that. In fact, I’m going to have the time of my life,” Toge cheered, his mood dampening once he saw you stiffen. “But my body is...”

Knowing full well that he’d get insecure over his lack of speech again, you glared at him hard enough that your best friend straightened up, lips puckered out in a pout as if you hadn’t just caught him talking badly about himself again when you’ve told him countless times he was perfectly fine the way he was.

It made you sigh, feeling slightly bad that until now he still couldn’t see himself the way you saw him – not that you’d ever vocalize this; Toge would never shut up (in the best way he could) if he had the slightest idea what went inside your head.

“You’re lucky you have a pretty face. Otherwise, it’s going to be impossible for anyone to like you,” you teased instead, somewhat flustered at your indirect compliment.

Toge merely scoffed at you, his gaze burning and hard, contrasting the teasing little shit grin he wore. “Oh, please, if I wasn’t the cursed speech user, I would’ve banged—”

“Kids!” Principal Yaga threw his dolls at you hard, the both of you clutching at your heads in pain. How were those dolls as heavy as rocks? “Take your bickering back to your rooms please. No more of this mess and noise. It’s late.”

You frowned at the old man, face pleading as you signed, “Principal Yaga, can’t we really do anything else? Aren’t there any techniques to undo this?”

You and Toge knew that combination so well – pitch black eyes, jaw clenched, lips pursed and palms interlaced under his chin – one that meant his words were final and irrevocable. None of you could argue or suggest more solutions the moment the words left his lips like an ultimate decree. “The technique is the kiss. Now leave.”

You and Toge tried, you both really did.

But following Principal Yaga’s suggestion of dating others had turned out to be a complete fail – even with your normal body and Toge’s physical charisma.

It simply didn’t work; not when Megumi ran away from you every time you tried to get him to kiss you with your arms wide open, and Toge wasn’t helping either by pushing Gojo-Sensei away from you every time the cheeky eyed teacher announced his willingness to help.

Eventually, you and your best friend had retired in his room, the scent of him coated all over his pillows and his shirt that you wore. That felt comforting, at least, and you buried yourself in the crook of your body’s neck, bodies tangled with one another.

Who knew dating could be so tiring?

A wave of irritation flashed over you from today’s events, knowing full well that this could’ve been avoided long ago. Scowling, you cuddled Toge closer, lightly flicking your fingers on your body’s chest. “This is your damn fault, Toge.”

“You were the one who asked me to stargaze with you.”

“You don’t always have to say no to everything I ask of you, you know.”

“You’re really dumber than I thought if you think I could easily say no to you,” he snorted above you, his chin resting atop your head. “I don’t have a lot of weakness because I’m a strong sorcerer—” another flick, a harsher one this time around. “Okay, okay, I’m just kidding! But I mean it though – you’re my best friend and my weakness. Of course I’d do anything to make you happy, even if it’s something as stupid as stargazing.”

“Hey!” you made a sound of protest in your throat, looking back at him with a frown. “It wasn’t stupid, it was romantic.”

Hell yeah, it was romantic indeed – your heart still skipped a beat every time you remembered Toge’s starry eyes matching the night sky’s beauty, the words salmon and mustard leaf surprisingly sexy every time it came from him. It was stupid – so fucking stupid – that you groaned into his chest to hide your flushed face.

“Yeah, I suppose it was.”

The room fell silent, your syncopated breathing soothing during this stressful times. Taking advantage of your voice, Toge began to hum, singing the songs you both had always listened to in the privacy of your room during lazy days. It brought a smile to your face as you clutched to him tighter, heart pounding in your chest as you gazed up at him, tapping his chin to get his attention. “Toge, can I say something weird?”

“Please, nothing you say surprises me anymore. Shoot.”

Your mouth began to dry as you cleared your throat in an attempt to hide your awkwardness, gaze pointedly averted from his prying ones. “You and I...we’ve known each other for a long time and we love each other. As best friends, of course.”

“Sheesh, friendzone much?”

“Would you please shut up and listen to me seriously for once?” you huffed, making him snicker, but nodded at you anyway to continue. “As I was saying – why don’t we kiss? It could be true love’s kiss.”

Toge didn’t speak for a good minute, the pregnant pause filling in the gap filled with tension. You taped his cheek, waving his hand in front of his eyes when he dazed out. When his gaze focussed back on you, Toge was surprisingly calm – although beneath that composed exterior, his mind had simply short-circuited. “If this is your way to get to make out with me, I’m going to sock you in the face.”

“Toge, I’m serious! Let’s kiss!”

“I don’t want to!” he shook his head indignantly, hiding his face by hugging you close to his chest instead.

“Why not? Don’t you want to swap back to your original body? Both of us haven’t showered in two days and I’m sick of the way you smell. You’re lucky I love you though, otherwise I’m going to cry. Come on, Toge, what’s holding you back?” you tried to fight back from his grip, but he’d surprised you both when he only squeezed you tighter, both your erratic heart rates matching the other.

“I said no.”

“Toge, it’s just a damn kiss, what’re you so afraid of?”

“I’m afraid that if we don’t swap back, then that means you don’t love me the way I love you!” he finally admitted, breathing hard before continuing. “Principal Yaga said it must be a kiss between lovers and not just platonic friends okay?” you attempted to scramble away from his arms again, and this time he let you, though he’d closed his eyes, cheek squished on the pillows as he murmured, “I don’t want you to reject me... even though I messed up already.”

“Wait,” you snapped your fingers to make him open his eyes, hesitant as you signed, “You...you love me that way?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because my face is staring back at me and it’s fucking awkward – I wanted to see your face when I confessed!” he sat up with a frustrated groan, childishly kicking off the sheets of the bed as he clutched his head in his hands. “I had everything planned, okay? Nobara and Yuuji helped me think of everything because Megumi is shit when it comes to love. Listen, I was going to ask you on a candlelit date and then maybe kiss the life out of you – if you feel the same way—”

“Kiss me.” The body he possessed a victim of his own powers, Toge was left with no choice but to grab your face before his mouth pressed against yours, fingers entangled into the other’s hair. You were smiling into the kiss the whole time, barely able to recognize when Toge had shifted your bodies until you were under him, his hands running down your sides lovingly the whole time.

Pulling away to get some air, you opened your eyes, unsurprised when Toge laid above you, his strong arms planted beside your head.

Both of you were breathing hard from the passionate kiss filled with so much sexual tension and longing, your tongue darting out to swipe at his taste on your lips. The laughter that bubbled out of you was pure, wholesome and swollen like your heart. “I love you too, idiot.”

“Salmon!” Toge peppered your cheeks with kisses, pulling out more gleeful laughter from you, his playful and loving attacks more of a gift than a punishment. Once you’d recovered from your happiness – although really, who could recover after that? – Toge unzipped his collar, his smile nothing but wicked when he commanded, “Kiss me again.”

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foodieforthoughts · 3 years

Note

Hello love! I have this scenario stuck in my head:

Walter hurts his right shoulder quite badly when solving a case (or slipping on ice 🤔)which leaves him imobile to his dominant arm. Being the stubborn man he is, he releases himself from the hospital and back at home has to release that he alone struggles with the simplest tasks. Due to the time of night or a snowstorm outside the only one left to ask for help is that new annoying neighbour (there's the trope I guess)... might lead to a number of embaressing (and hot?) situations...

Wherever that came from... never mind my weird brain 🙈... does that maybe, possibly strike your muse?

Omg. 🤭 Thank you for the request @omgkatinka I tried to make it fluffy and funny, but I'm in a Walter mood lately and it did end up with a hint of smut, so here it goes.

Warnings: slight description of shoulder injury, a little bit of angst, fluff, description of male masturbation

*divider by @firefly-graphics

Title: Helping hand

Walter groaned when he turned on his side, half asleep and in a lot of pain. His shoulder throbbed like a thousand needles pricked him at the same time, shooting a blinding pain up to his fingers.

"Fuck!" He cursed at himself, rolling onto his back and trying to breathe through his agony. He clutched his sore shoulder with his hand, gently soothing the bandages and blinking through the tears that had sprung at the corners of his eyes.

Walter had hurt his shoulder while on a mission to catch hold of a guy involved in human trafficking. They had chased the culprit through the abandoned factory, barely losing him through the maze of metal staircases when Walter had lunged at the man, tackling him to the floor. But the rusty old work bridge had crumbled under the force, bringing both men crashing down to the ground with metal pieces and debris. Luckily for them they weren't harmed in a life threatening manner, but Walter's shoulder had dislocated, resulting in a torn labrum requiring surgery.

"Fuck this shit." Walter had told himself while lying in his hospital bed on the third day post surgery, pressing the call button for the nurse. He had gruffly told the pale, scared woman that he wanted to go home and he was feeling fine. After arguing with the doctor about his health, Walter had self discharged himself against medical advice.

He thought he had made a wise choice coming home, but he knew he was stupid to think he could make it on his own.

Sitting up on the bed and grabbing the strap of the arm sling, Walter groaned. With his dominant hand rendered useless for the time being, Walter had a lot of trouble with his daily activities. Faye and Angie were in California visiting her parents, leaving him no one to call for help for the past weeks.

He made his way to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water when he saw the heavy blanket of snow outside. Checking his watch, he gathered it was only four pm and yet it was almost dark with snow still falling steadily. Walter had taken his pain meds and a sleeping pill when he had awoken in the middle of the night, and had effectively knocked himself out for a good twelve hour sleep. With that realization, his stomach growled indicating his missed meals for the day.

Looking around at the kitchen, Walter groaned when he saw the empty takeout boxes and the overflowing trash can. Injury had left him disorganised, making him live like a junkie. He couldn't even remember the last time he had taken a decent shower, sniffing the air as he could smell his own body odour. He was about to grab a trash bag from the counter and try to clean, when his doorbell rang.

Walter groaned, again. He had an inkling it was her. His chirpy neighbor who was the only one who showed up to help him every other day. She was annoying in the beginning, trying to start up conversations when all he wanted to do was sulk. But he had warmed up to her, still keeping her at an arm's length, but allowing her to assist him from time to time. When he opened the front door, there she was, looking adorable covered in cozy woollen attire from head to toe, a cute beanie over her hair, carrying a big lunch box in her gloved hands. She smiled at him, shivering with the cold winds until he moved to the side to let her in.

You could never believe how intimidating Walter had seemed to you only a couple of weeks ago. He would always throw a curt nod at you when you would greet him from your door if you ever happened to cross paths, never smiling or staying for a chat. You had gathered from the other neighbors that he was a cop, Detective Walter Marshall, kind of a loner and always grumpy. There was no denying your attraction to him, his scruffy beard and thick curls always left your fingers itching to touch them, with his accent being a major plus point. But he would never give you a chance to strike up a decent conversation.

It was all fun and games, you liked the chase, even if you were the one doing all the chasing. Seemed like a conquest for you but when his car was missing from his parking spot for days on end, you began worrying about him. Then one fine day, you spotted him out in the curb, trying to open the trash bin with one hand while the other was hanging in a sling. You had walked up to him, out of concern when Walter had turned around to go back inside slipping on the ice, only for you to grab a hold of him trying to break his fall but instead tumbling to the cold ground with him on top of you. He had apologized profusely, wincing in pain as he moved and letting you help him stand up.

From that day onwards, you always made it a point to stop by his house atleast once. It helped that Walter never complained.

"I had made lasagna. Did you have lunch?" You asked, taking off your beanie to hang on the hook and leaving your boots by the door. You felt Walter's looming figure follow you as you made your way to the kitchen. Taking in the surrounding, you nodded to yourself, your question answered without Walter having to utter a word. "Very well, why don't you sit at the table and I'll serve you the food?"

You tried to grab clean plates and spoons, frowning at the dirty dishes from last night, but you didn't blame him. It was only so much he could do with one hand.

"Did you have a good night's sleep?" You asked, trying to strike up a conversation with the Detective.

"No. I took sleeping pills."

Placing the plate of food in front of him, you narrowed your eyes at him. "Don't get too attached to those meds though." You handed him the spoon and fork, before getting to clean his kitchen.

"You don't have to do that." Walter protested from his place at the table, almost about to stand up. "I was about to clean around the house."

"With one hand? Come on, Detective Walter, you know better than that. And I don't mind, I was holed up at my house since morning anyway, this atleast gives me a chance to do something." You winked at him, grabbing the empty bottles of water and shoving them in the trash bag. By the time Walter had finished his meal, you had cleaned the kitchen with only the dishes to spare.

"Let me get those." Walter tried to reach for the soap but you were fast enough to grab it first.

"Go rest, I can handle this." You nudged him playfully with your hip. You could not believe your eyes when you saw Walter smile. "Wow! Look at that! I am being graced with a smile."

Rolling his eyes at you, Walter stayed put at his place, handing you the plates one by one. You insisted for him to rest, but he denied each of your requests. You were just about done loading up the dishes in the dishwasher when your phone rang from it's place in the purse that was hanging on the hook.

"I'll put them in the rack, go." Walter assured you with another smile. You nodded at him, handing the gloves and walking out the kitchen. You were texting back your mom, when you heard the Detective cuss loudly, followed by falling and breaking of plates. You hurried inside to find Walter drenched with soapy water and the broken pieces of ceramic and glass on the floor.

"I'm done with this!" He shouted, trying to pry open the velcro of his sling in anger. The edge of his shirt dripped water on the floor with a stream travelling down from the front of his pants.

"Hey, hey." You rushed to him, carefully maneuvering away from the plates, and caught hold of his hands. "It's okay. It happens. Why don't you go change and I'll clean here." You didn't back down when he stared at you, not moving and not giving up. But a silent moment passed and he left for his bedroom without a word.

You walked towards Walter’s bedroom, the silence of the house only disturbed by the whistling winds of the oncoming storm outside. It was late in the night when you had gotten the chance to pay the ailing Detective a visit. With freshly baked cookies in a box, you had knocked at his door only to be left standing out in the cold. He had handed you a spare key for emergencies as the storm warning approached which you never used until today.

When you reached the door to his bedroom, you stopped in your tracks hearing muffled grunts from the other side. The door was slightly cracked open, faint light seeping out to the the hallway. You peered through the gap only to gape at the sight.

The other day when Walter had spilled water over his front and gone to change, you had followed him after hearing him cursing at himself. He had a hard time taking off the wet clothes, making him angrier by the minute. You had helped him then, only to be left mesmerized by his body as your nimble fingers had brushed over his skin.

Walter had his eyes closed, his arm in the sling and resting on his naked chest and pillows with a sheet covering his lower half. His other hand was under the cover, moving up and down as he pleasured himself. You felt your cheeks warm, spreading down to your chest and the tip of your ears as you watched him in his private moment, wanting to turn and run away but failing to do so.

You weren't going to ask him, but you could swear a long moment of sparks had passed between the two of you. Your dreams now featured vivid fantasies with Walter, leaving you in a daze for the rest of the day.

As much as you wanted to stare at his heaving chest, listen to his melodious moans and trace his sweat sheened face with your gaze; this felt like a rude invasion of privacy. You were about to turn on your heels when you heard the whisper of your name rolling out of his lips. Whipping your head to see if you had been caught red handed, you were left baffled to find Walter's eyes closed, unaware of your presence and repeating your name like a mantra while he pumped his length.

You had no idea what got into you, but the urge to be with the man you had been lusting over was so strong, you pushed the door open with heated cheeks and a trembling core. Walter's eyes shot open, widening as he took in your presence, scrambling to hide himself underneath the sheets.

"Wh-what are you-?" He stammered, a rosy pink tint appearing on his flushed skin.

You did not answer him, choosing to close the distance between the two of you instead. You crouched down next to his side of the bed, placing your hand on his scruffy cheek. His pupils were blown wide, lips parted as he struggled to regain his breath and rendered speechless at the debacle. You waited for him to object to your advances, watching as he wet his lips with his tongue before leaning to kiss him. Walter remained frozen for a long second, until he moved his lips along with yours.

Breaking away from the kiss, you smiled at him, a hand creeping to his member that twitched in response. "Do you need a hand?" You asked, smirking as Walter could only nod before you pulled the sheet away from his body.

#ask foodie #walter marshall #Walter marshall fanfic #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall x you #walter marshall nomis #nomis #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #requests

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sweetkingdomstarlight-blog · 3 years

Text

they were roommates

Warnings - non consensual sex, anal sex, somnophilia, forced drug use

Pairings - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words - over 2k

A/N - READ THE WARNINGS - I can’t stress this enough. Also if you are under 18 just shoo, bugger off. I wrote this from a prompt on @darkficsyouneveraskedfor stalker writing challenge, the prompt was your roommate isn’t who you thought they were. I’m still super new to writing and this is new territory for me, as always a huge massive thankyou to my beautiful wife @buckyownsmylife she helped me a lot and continues to hype me up.

It’s been six weeks since your friend got a new job upstate and moved out,. You’ve had an advert out for a new roommate but so far everyone who’s applied has either been rude or hasn’t shown up. You’re running low on your savings and would probably accept Satan himself if he could pay his fair share. That’s when your latest applicant knocked on your door.

James was polite and charming, he offered to pay a month up front to secure the room and could move in as soon as possible. You felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders when he moved in later that week, it was a bit odd that he had no friends to help him but he didn’t seem to have a lot of stuff and had himself sorted while you worked in your home office.

The first night he offered to buy pizza and beers so you could get to know each other better, it turns out you two had a lot of things in common and he was easy to get along with. You must have had a few too many beers because your head felt fuzzy, deciding it was time to go to bed. You said goodnight to James and stood up but felt so dizzy you had to immediately sit back down. James was so sweet though, looking after you, he actually picked you up and put you to bed so you didn't have to walk the short distance to your room.

Waking up the next morning you realised you were wearing a t-shirt you didn’t recognise but you didn’t remember getting changed, your mouth felt strangely dry so you got up for a drink. That’s when the soreness hit you, in between your legs, rushing to the bathroom you were confused that you weren’t getting your period and nothing seemed to be different. You assumed you were getting sick and went for hot tea to soothe yourself.

Sitting at the kitchen counter drinking and nibbling on some dry toast, James walks in looking like he’s just been for a run. He grabs a bottle of water and walks over to you giggling “you can’t possibly be hungover you only had three drinks last night” you look up at him smirking and sarcastically respond, “yeah, well, maybe I’m just a lightweight”.

As you get up to clear away your mess he clears his throat making you turn. “Should we have a system for when we have people over in the future?” You look at him confused. “I’m sorry what do you mean? Do you want to bring someone over tonight?”

He chuckles at you, “Well no, not tonight but if you want your friend from last night to come back I can make sure you have some privacy,” he offers you, smirking at the confused look on your face.

“I’m sorry, I don't understand, I went to sleep last night. I didn’t have anyone over.” Taking a step closer, he leans on the counter separating you both. “Then who did I hear you with last night and who did I kick out this morning?” You stare at him open mouthed and scurry off to your room to check your phone for some clues, you feel your chest tighten when you see that you matched with someone last night and invited him over. How could you not remember? You were absolutely mortified, what is James going to think of you now?

Sitting in your home office talking to idiot customers on the phone all day, you try to take your mind off what happened last night. How can you have invited someone over, had sex and apparently stolen his t-shirt without even knowing? You vow there and then you aren’t drinking ever again. However, the end of the week rolls by and it's been the absolute worst, your boss is a dick, your customers are all idiots and to top it off your best friend hasn’t responded to your calls all week and you don’t know why.

You have a quick shower and decide to spend the night binge watching whatever you can find on Netflix when James sits next to you handing you a gin and tonic. “Thanks but I’m not drinking for a little while.” You go to put the drink down but he pushes it up to your mouth

“Don’t be silly, you’ve had a hard week. One drink won’t hurt” smiling at him you take a sip and he’s right, you instantly relax and get cosy on the sofa, ordering chinese and laughing at the show you both decide on. Waking up in the middle of the night with a dry mouth again, you find yourself laying on your bed but this time you have your own clothes on which is a relief. Standing up, you feel a bit weird round the back like you’ve been stretched out with one of your plugs but that’s not possible, they’re hidden in your box under the bed.

You drink a big glass of water and sit on the kitchen counter, a little uncomfortably, but quietly and relax. Something has been off the last week and you can’t put your finger on it, it's always weird when you get a new roommate and you’ve put it down to that but you just sense something isn’t quite right. You lean your head back on the wall behind you and get a surprise when James walks round the corner. “Hey doll, you feeling ok? You looked a bit sickly earlier and went to bed. I didn’t want to wake you up.”

You nod at how sweet he was and drink some more water before hopping down. “I’m fine just going to sleep it off.” He takes your glass for you, offering to wash it and says goodnight, watching you walk away very closely and licking his lips as his eyes roam over your body.

It’s been a few weeks now since James moved in, he’s got to be the best roommate you’ve ever had. He pays his bills on time, keeps the place spotless and he’s such a good cook, always making food and drinks for you. It's lucky that he’s so kind because none of your friends seem to be in touch anymore, you message them and even try calling them but no one ever replies.

You sit watching your usual Friday night film with drinks and Chinese takeout, talking to James about both your weeks, tonight though he sits closer than usual and his face seems to light up when you talk to him. He’s possibly the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in real life, you’ve never looked at him that way before because not only is he your roommate but he’s so far out of your league it's laughable. You tell one of your stupid jokes and he laughs with his whole body, his arm goes around the back of the sofa and he pulls you in close, hugging into him, you relax biting your lip when he kisses the top of your head.

That was the beginning of it for you both. You had daily movie nights, he cooked for you every day, listened when you got upset that your friends seemed to have dropped you and even encouraged you to start running with him. Everything felt perfect, you still occasionally woke up sore with a dry mouth but James told you it was just your body getting used to all the exercise you were now doing. Both of you had really found each other, loners who just needed someone to listen.

You went down to collect your mail one day and stood talking to your elderly neighbour when she told you how familiar James looked, she couldn’t work out where she knew him from but she praised you on finding such a nice young man who apparently had carried her groceries up the stairs for her when the elevator was broken. Smiling at her you told her to have a good morning and went back to your apartment looking at the thick brown envelope addressed to you, you never really got anything in the post except the occasional leaflet. James had made you a coffee and you smiled at him taking the package in your room to open while you got ready to have a shower.

In the shower you decided tonight would be the night with James, you shaved yourself from head to toe and used your best lotions. Winking at him as you walked to your room, he had a weird look on his face and couldn’t seem to look at you. In your room the envelope had been moved, it looked like it was open too. Bending down to pick it up you hear James behind you but before you can turn around you feel a pain in your neck and everything goes dark.

You wake up with a blinding headache and go to move but your body feels too heavy. “Ssshh sweetheart, don’t move, I had to tie you up for your own safety.” You look at him confused, trying to pull on your wrists but you can’t move.

“James, what’s happening?” Sitting next to you he slips some ice chips in your mouth to ease your dry throat and takes a deep breath.

“You can blame your friend, we were so happy and she had to try and take you away from me.” A tear runs down your cheek, you’ve never heard him talk like this and it’s terrifying. “I told your little friends to leave you alone or I’d take care of them all but they just didn’t listen.” He throws the envelope down and slowly shows you the newspaper clippings and articles they had sent you, apparently he was on the run and considered dangerous, something to do with what happened with the helicarriers that crashed a few months ago.

“I’m not the Winter Soldier anymore,” he says with a smirk, wiping your tears away and tutting. “Don’t be scared of me, I’m doing this for you, for us!” Pulling on the restraints on your feet and arms again he shouts, “Enough!” You stop immediately, scared of what he‘ll do if you don’t. “You were so nice to me on the phone when I first got free, you helped me hire that car that brought me to New York. I hacked into your company's database and found you. Your roommate was easy to convince with a little bit of money and I hired all those people to come and see you so when I finally got my chance you’d want me as much as I’ve wanted you”

“Why didn’t you just ask me out like a normal person?” You managed to stutter out, trying not to sound too pathetic.

“You never leave the house, you stay home all day working then sit watching TV all night, I saw you through the webcam. You really should be more careful.” He smirks before running his fingers over your naked body. Feeling how smooth and soft your skin is he smiles. “Did you do all this for me? Sweetheart, I’ve already had all of you, you don’t have to do anything special for me. I love you just the way you are”.

The realisation hits you and you sob loudly. “Have you been touching me while I sleep?” He tilts his head to the side and looks at you with so much admiration.

“You’re so smart, I’ve been preparing you to be mine. I didn’t know how long it's been since you’ve been with a real man, not those silly little toys under your bed and I wanted our first time to be special. I even set up that fake dating account so you would think you had a guy over on that first night.” He strokes your cheek and you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from crying.

“James I’m cold, can you untie me and we can talk properly, please.” He studies your face for a brief moment before leaning forward and chuckling in your ear.

“You can’t think I’m that stupid baby, oh and you can call me Bucky now. If you’re going to be mine forever we need to get better acquainted.” He drops his sweatpants and straddles your hips. “We’re going to have so much fun”.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #Winter Soldier

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chocosvt · 3 years

Text

⚬ pairing: joshua x reader ⚬ word count: 5040 ⚬ warnings: mentions of alcohol ⚬ genres: FLUFF, shallow angst, guitarist/bandmate!joshua, some annoying neighbour tropes, a little bit of pining, wintery pizzazz, joshua is a hopeless romantic :(

✧✎ synopsis: somebody new just moved into the upstairs apartment. they’re loud, irritatingly sweet, and unfortunately, very pretty. but you’re not looking for a new relationship, even if it comes in the form of joshua hong.

✧✎ a/n: oooUUooouu YES! this is a gift to my lovely secret santa, @luvshuas !! ♡ in my first ask, i learned that dani liked using paint by numbers, AND I THOUGHT THAT WAS ADORABLE so i helped use it to create this fic! dani, you are such a joy to talk to AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS XOXOXO !! :D

Last week, someone new had moved into the empty apartment one floor above yours. You didn’t know who. Not their name, not their face, just that they occupied the once vacant space of room 24D. Supposedly, their next-door neighbours had already brought them some housewarming gifts. A watering can filled with flowers, a wreath of white candles, and an old sewing tin now converted into a container for oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.

All closely resembling the gifts you received during your first week at the apartment complex. It made sense though, considering most rooms were home to very elderly couples. At first, you planned a brief gap in your day to visit this stranger and welcome them to such a small complex. Find out if they were old or young, endearing or irritable, sensible or flat out crazy. But you never visited room 24D, because you were currently in a moat about your ex-partner.

An extremely deep, inescapable moat.

Not only had they broken up with you on the day you planned to introduce them to your parents, they decided it would be most efficient to do so through a stupid text message. From Monday to Friday, you’d been moping in a curled-up ball on the couch, blowing into tissues and flicking through the holiday romcoms even though they were all so cookie-cutter and dull. To make matters worse, it had been snowing all week, shutting you indoors as a draft built up outside the windowsills.

You had completely forgot about the newbie who’d just moved in upstairs. Until one day, when they decided to make their presence known in the most jarring way possible.

That particular morning, you were finally feeling stable enough to not eat dry, stale cereal straight from the box. You were feeling well enough to avoid another twelve hours moulding into the couch. While a cold wind blew against the windows and rattled the glass, you poured yourself some tea with the new teapot your mother parceled as an early present. And that’s when you heard it: an eruption of electric sound from the floor directly above yours. It sounded like a guitar, if that guitar were plugged into a massive amp and its chords were being plucked by one thousand fingers.

Coincidentally, you spilt tea, scalding and runny, all over the countertop. It started dribbling down your cupboards and creating blotches on the tiled flooring. At random, the sound stopped.

By lunchtime you were unwinding in the shower, your eyes shut as the water poured onto your face and streamed toward the drain. When you squeezed out some shampoo onto your fingers, you heard the chord progression again. This time louder, if that was even possible. The bottle flung from your wet hands and crashed against the floor, startling you half to death, a trail of wasted shampoo then painted to the wall. But the sound didn’t stop immediately. Unlike last time, the stranger railed on their guitar for half an hour at least.

Yet the last straw didn’t come until evening.

Sitting at the kitchen table with a water jar next to your elbow, you were using your new paint by numbers kit. You had been waiting all day to try it, brushing in the mesmerizing colours of a watery-purple landscape. For the last time that day, you were jolted by the riff of an electric guitar, causing you to jerk a huge, thick streak of black paint right across the paper, effectively ruining it. How horrible. How Terrible.

And you were not going to let the incident slide.

Room 24D.

The room directly above yours. After banging your fist rather inhospitably against the door, you couldn’t lie that the face which greeted you was a definite shock. A young man probably in his early twenties, with curly, brown hair styled neatly yet in disarray, and these wide, glass-like eyes that felt so penetrating you were afraid to glare him down. In fact, you were a bit nervous.

“I don’t know where you stayed at last, b-but at this complex, people don’t usually slam on their electric guitars.”

But so what if you were nervous? You had grown accustomed to sharing this complex with seniors. The thought of someone this young (and admittedly – quite beautiful) had somewhat stunted your brain. The stranger looked at you as though he had nothing to say. He started bobbing his head and shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I’m guessing it doesn’t happen ‘cause everyone here is over seventy and crochets scarves until bedtime. It’s not my fault you’re the only one who’s still got decent hearing.”

Your eyes narrowed; your brow heavily creased.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

He hesitated at first, then replied, “Joshua.”

“Okay, Joshua, I’d rather have everyone in this building crocheting scarves out the damn window if it meant not listening to a stupid electric guitar all day. You ruined my paint by numbers kit.”

Joshua laughed. “Your what?” He then flashed a grin which suggested he was holding back a satirical comment.

“My paint by numbers kit!” You repeated, feeling your nervousness dissolve into irritation. “It’s ruined, and I’m blaming it on you because it’s your fault. My whole week has been awful and you just made it even worse. So there. I hope you’re happy.”

For some reason, Joshua leaned his shoulder against the doorframe like someone who had all the time in the world. He appeared way too comfortable. Something about it irked you while simultaneously pulling this weird, fuzzy string in your chest. The boy folded his arms and raised a curious eyebrow.

“Why was your week awful?” He questioned.

There was a sweetness to his voice which hadn’t been there before, and you absolutely weren’t going to fall for it, even if it sounded like he ate a spoonful of honey and might taste just as good.

“No. Forget it,” you sighed, waving a dismissive hand, “I said what I had to say. Just be quieter, please.”

You turned around sharply, making your way toward the elevator based at the end of the corridor. Those magnetic eyes of his seemed to be glued to your backside, an almost palpable feeling.

“Okay!” He called out. “Great chat! Nice to meet you too!”

The boy was being wholly sarcastic of course. After returning to your apartment, you cleaned up the kitchen table, sweeping away your paint by numbers kit into a drawer just in case you were one day struck with the motivation to fix it up. Probably not.

“Uh—excuse me? You called me, remember? So don’t go shifting the fault like always. I just can’t believe how immature you are! And, you know what, I’m hanging up now! Don’t call back!”

Smashing your finger against the phone screen, you ended the call, silencing the aggravated voice that had pounded through the line just a second before. An unfortunate misdial resulted in your ex phoning you at the supermarket. The interaction immediately turned south, prompting you to hurry outside into the snow, wedging the brown paper bag of produce underneath your arm and against your chest, all while you barked into the phone with the other hand.

Snowflakes were brimming the edge of your wool hat; your fingertips numb and stiff. Your pacing, impatient footsteps were stamped across the white ground. Things had been difficult enough without your ex invading even the most boring parts of your life, and now a mundane stop at the market had left you intensely unsettled.

As you huffed a web of your breath into the air, you spotted something unexpected: Joshua helping Mrs. Akané load the groceries into her small silver-bullet car. She lived alone on the bottom floor of the apartment complex, one of the kindest old ladies in the whole building. Every winter she had knitted you a pink pair of mittens. When Joshua opened the car door for her, she gave him a gentle pat on his shoulder and her patented rosy-cheeked smile.

Since you scorned him for his abrasive guitar playing, it only happened less often, though it was never any quieter. You realized that he belonged in a band. From time to time they would take the stage at the downtown bar, engendering a space so packed it was nearly impossible to wriggle to the counter for a quick drink. Joshua invited you to his Friday night gig – which was tonight – and while you had contemplated the decision to attend, the disheartening encounter with your ex had officially soiled the mood.

Joshua noticed you, probably looking cold and mad.

“So,” he began, “are you coming tonight?”

Adjusting the groceries underneath your arm, you shrugged, meanwhile the hollow nature of your eyes screamed a blatant no. If anything, you wanted to be back on that living room couch, eating an entire tray of frosted shortbread cookies and dabbing at your tears.

“Seriously?” Joshua frowned. “You’re gonna pass? It is ‘cause you’re still mad about the guitar playing? I’m sorry, okay.”

“No,” you shook your head, “no, no. It’s not because of your disruptive, loud guitar playing. I’m just not having a good day.”

Bits of snow began to powder Joshua’s brown hair. His cheeks were blushed and his nose rosy.

“No offense,” the boy laughed, “but it seems like you’re never having a good day.” He then shook his head, scattering the snowflakes from between the fibres of his hair. “How about you come to our little concert shindig thing, listen to our set – which is great, I promise – then we can talk about it, back at my place.”

For a moment, you paused, and this perplexed expression briefly eclipsed your features. Did he just subtly attempt to persuade you into some sort of… Date? No, it was too soon for anything like that. He was probably joking anyways (despite his straight face).

“I don’t know… I’m tired. Maybe another time.”

You started carrying the brown bag of produce to your car, parked just down the street. Joshua chuckled and tagged along at your side, the snow crunching softly under your feet.

“When’s another time?” He asked.

Throwing open the car door and sliding the bag inside, you sighed. “Another time is another time. It’s self-explanatory.”

“So you’re not coming?” Joshua questioned in finality.

“No.” You replied, rubbing your cold fingers together, attempting to spark some warmth. “I’m not.”

It was then that Joshua took your hands in his, a gesture that completely flicked you off your axis, and started to squeeze them, kneading your skin with his thumbs until you felt the uncomfortable stiffness gradually wear off. He brought your hands close to his face, pursed his pink, very pretty lips, and started to blow on them. A sensation fizzled to life in your lower tummy. Not only were you heating up significantly, but you felt too hot. Scary hot.

“That’s a shame.” Joshua said, releasing your hands carefully, like he’d just touched gold. “But I can wait for another time.”

You couldn’t sleep that night.

Most likely because you were regretting the decision to not attend Joshua’s gig at the bar. The fact that no matter how hard you pushed, memories of your past relationship would still linger like a heavy mist, preventing you from being happy, from detaching, from forming new connections. Wet drops of snow tapped against your window. And then, at around one in the morning, you heard a knock at your apartment door.

Joshua. Evidently intoxicated. His guitar case slung over his back. A foggy sort of look disrupting his usual countenance.

“Hey there,” he mumbled, rubbing at his eye, “couldn’t get into my room. Think I could crash—” the boy stopped midsentence to yawn and hiccup, his face flushed pink, “crash here?”

“Did you walk home from the bar?” You asked, disregarding his inquiry.

“No, Jihoon drove me.” Joshua answered, bracing his hand against the threshold. “Pretty please? Can I stay?”

“Fine.”

You took the dark green guitar case from Joshua’s back, stamped with numerous luggage stickers that made it seem as though he’d flown all over the globe. After settling the case beside the couch, you helped Joshua lie down, though he flopped rather ungracefully with his face squished into a pillow.

For an awkward moment, you were just standing there, twiddling your thumbs as Joshua squirmed onto his back.

“Do you want a glass of water?” You proposed.

Joshua carded a hand through his brown locks and further dishevelled them. His face seemed to glow and the manner in which his eyes softly shut had you feeling oddly sympathetic. Like you needed to take care of him.

Rather than answering your question, Joshua sighed.

“I can’t believe you flaked on me.” He said. “I looked forward to seeing you there all week. I told my friends about you.”

Your toes dug into the carpet; teeth fastened into your bottom lip. You couldn’t tell if he was rambling drunken nonsense or being wholly truthful. Joshua titled his head to the side, nestling his cheek comfortably against the pillow.

“Like I said, there’ll be another time.”

“Can I have a blanket?” He mumbled sleepily.

Disappearing into your bedroom for a moment, you grabbed Joshua a spare blanket which often lied next to you on the bed, just in case it got a little too cold at night. Your heating was fairly shabby.

“Here you go.” You said, dropping it on him.

After pulling the fabric up to his chin and spending a minute getting comfy, Joshua started smiling, lashes long against his cheeks.

“Appreciate it.” He replied. ”Kick me out early if you want.”

When Joshua scheduled his next gig at the bar, you made sure to be there, settled near the back at the cocktail counter. As you anticipated, the space filled up quickly, and you kept tucking in your legs whenever someone scooted by to use the washroom or find a better vantage point. You didn’t mention that you were coming. It was supposed to be a surprise which had oddly excited you. Like you were someone important to him, even though you probably weren’t.

You enjoyed his band’s performance. While sipping at something syrupy and a little too cherry flavoured, you couldn’t help but smile behind the glass, shake your foot even, as Joshua strummed down on the electric guitar. There was a pink-haired drummer seated behind him, and a bassist with a dashing, heavenly smile. Eventually, the tone of their music shifted near the end of the set. Joshua exchanged his electric guitar for the acoustic one kept in that dark green, stickered case. And when he started to sing a slower, more sentimental song, you felt something cotton-like in your chest.

How could his voice be this soft? How could it turn so sweet? How could his eyes switch from a powerful ripple to calm water? And why were you heating up all over? The glass hit your knee as you continued to watch Joshua sing, as though you’d fallen into a trance, like a sailor caught by the lullaby of a siren.

But then, as your eyes scanned the crowd for a brief moment, they attached to some who looked awfully familiar.

Goddammit. Of course.

Why did your stupid ex have to be everywhere?

Why did they have to invade every aspect of your life? Especially the enjoyable parts? Once the stage ended and Joshua began thanking the crowd for an energetic reaction, they turned around and grabbed their friend excitedly. Yet, the thrill on their face disappeared the second they noticed you, glaring bitterly, angrily, still clearly hurt. That’s when you decided to leave.

You were halfway down the block when you heard your name being shouted. Pausing beneath a street lamp, you attempted to peer through the heavy flurries sweeping down from the night sky. A silhouette began to take shape. Joshua finally pressed through into the light, without his jacket, his equipment, or even a damn sweater.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” You questioned him, wondering how cold he must be feeling in that white t-shirt.

Joshua took a few more steps forward. “I saw you there,” he replied, still trying to catch his breath, “but then you just stormed out. I nearly threw myself down the back entrance trying to catch up with you, y’know. How do you walk that damn fast?”

“I just—I wanted to beat the crowd home.” You lied.

Joshua took in another big breath, then nodded his head. “So, what did you think? You like the music?”

“It’s cool… Why did you leave without a jacket? I mean, it’s snowing like crazy. You’re gonna get hypothermia or something.”

“Well, I didn’t want to let you get away.” The boy laughed, brushing off some flurries compiling on his shoulder. “It was great to see you there. But, why didn’t you tell me? Why the secrecy.”

You shrugged. “Why should I tell you?”

At that, you weren’t expecting Joshua to have a response. Maybe he’d be a little puzzled and have to think about it. Instead, he seemed to be formulating a surprise of his own.

“Because I have a song for you,” Joshua revealed, “I wrote it with Jihoon. It’s an acoustic thing. But I could turn it hard rock too.”

It felt like someone had turned the table. Ironically, you were the one struggling to reply, your brow furrowing in the dim light as you stared at this boy with his glowing cheeks and his hair disrupted by the flakes of snow. You sniffled, cold air hitting your lungs.

“Why would you write a song about me?”

No one had ever done such a gesture for you before. Not that you had been acquainted with many musicians or lyricists. You felt strange, but also warm, and heart-fluttery, and like you were possibly falling for someone harder than ever before. Joshua approached you tentatively and grabbed your hand, his eyes soft.

“Probably because I like you.” Joshua murmured. “A lot.”

Your heart started to pound, and it felt like someone was banging their fists against your chest. Even if you had denied it in the beginning, the truth was that you liked Joshua too. And yet, those reciprocating words somehow fell to the bottom of your feet. Because as much as you wanted it, you still weren’t ready for someone new.

“Joshua…” you squeezed his hand and looked into those endearing eyes of his, “I-I can’t right now. I was in a relationship not too long ago, and now that’s over, but I’m still trying to get over it. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

The boy shook his head. “You don’t have to be sorry.” Joshua answered, running his thumb between your knuckles. “You’re not ready, I get it.”

Breathing out slowly, you smiled at him.

You were yanking open all the drawers in the kitchen, trying to remember where exactly you had stuck that little metal whisk. A bowl of unmixed cupcake batter was waiting to be stirred. Each year that it was open, you signed up for the Complex Gift Exchange, and it just so happened that sixty-five-year-old Miss Dupont really liked vanilla cupcakes. You pulled out the drawer that had been hiding the ruined, stained paper courtesy of your paint by numbers kit.

Rolling your eyes, you slammed it shut, only to realize you’d left the whisk sitting behind the big bag of flour on the counter.

Even though you had turned down Joshua that one night in the snow, he didn’t act spiteful or weird about it. And somehow, you two had grown closer since. Joshua was very easy to talk to. He was a good listener. No matter how many times you ran into each other on the elevator, or at the supermarket, the letter boxes in the lobby or at the car lot, Joshua always made time to listen to whatever mishap had bothered you that day. He still railed on his electric guitar every now and then, though you were beginning to accept it. Baby steps.

Apparently, one of his bandmates was visiting today.

You knew exactly when he’d arrived too, because as soon as you pulled the cupcakes out from the oven to cool, this wave of intense sound; drumming, symbols, guitar, everything, exploded from the floor above, like someone had just thrown a clump of instruments into a hurricane. You stared up at the ceiling winsomely and sighed.

Dressed in a long, thick winter coat, you went outside the complex to visit the garden, now blanketed by snow and sparkling white. You brushed off the bench that had once sat before a fiery pink row of petunias and took a seat. It was much quieter.

“Hey!”

Or so you thought.

Turning around, you gazed up at the apartment complex, spotting two familiar faces hanging out from a fourth story window.

“What?!” You shouted back.

Joshua grinned, then cupped his hands around his mouth as an amplifier. “Were we being too loud?!” He asked.

“Yeah!” His friend yelled. “Were we too loud?!” You had learned the other face was Jihoon, the band drummer, his hair now a rusty shade of crimson. He helped write most of their music.

“No, I’m just sitting out here in the wind and snow and below zero temperatures because I want to!” You replied at the top of your lungs.

Waving at you apologetically, Joshua kept smiling. “Sorry! I’m gonna kick him out soon!” He pointed at Jihoon. “If you want, you can come up here and listen to our last rehearsal!”

Jihoon shoved Joshua’s head out of the way.

“Don’t come up here!” The drummer exclaimed. “It’s not even close to ready yet. He’s just saying that because he’s in—”

A hand clamped swiftly to the boy’s mouth, muffling the remainder of his sentence like it was top secret. Joshua then dragged him away from the open window. Quirking an eyebrow in confusion, you stared at the vacant space until Joshua reappeared a moment later, scratching the back of his head and looking sheepish.

“Sorry about that!” Joshua called. “We’re almost done!”

“I’m in no rush!” You answered, turning back around.

It was true. There weren’t too many pressing things you needed to get done today, besides making the buttercream frosting for Miss Dupont’s cupcakes. The weather wasn’t even as terrible as you made it seem. The wind was light, and the shining sun helped mitigate the usual bitterness of winter. It was quite nice out.

Until about ten minutes later, when Joshua threw a snowball at your back. You spun around quickly, glaring at the boy who was dusting his hands clean of snow, standing near the complex doorway. In that moment, you wanted to be angry at him. But, to be honest, you felt like laughing instead.

“Shouldn’t I be the one throwing snowballs at you?”

Joshua shrugged. “If you could even hit me.”

“Keep your eyes open tonight, Joshua Hong.” You comically threatened him. “Where are you going, anyways?”

“I have to get my person a gift for the exchange thing.” He said, pulling a hat over his hair. “And a new guitar pick.”

“Have fun with that.”

Then, waiting for him to turn around, you hastily packed together a snowball and threw it against the back of his coat.

Miss Dupont somehow figured out who was responsible for her gift. She asked you to give her the cupcakes early, because she swore, she was had been able to smell them baking through the air ducts. Maybe you added too much vanilla. Everyone was supposed to exchange their gifts tomorrow, leaving them by the door or delivering them in person. You didn’t have a clue as to who could be preparing your gift. As long as it wasn’t another candle wreath to collect dust in your closet, you figured you’d be fine with it.

Tonight would be your last opportunity in a long while to watch Joshua’s band perform at the downtown bar. You’d missed their last show, ruminating over the possibility of encountering your ex again; feeling those horrible emotions which were nothing more than poison in disguise. After the New Year, Joshua was planning to visit South Korea with his bandmates for a few weeks. It would be awfully strange to not hear another symphony from his electric guitar, or Jihoon’s drumkit. Jeonghan never really stopped by much.

It was at least an hour or so before Joshua was scheduled to perform. So, you decided to walk down the street to the lane of trees now wrapped and curled with lights. There were small, twinkling white lights. Large, blue lights shaped like hanging icicles. Some blinked in a specific pattern while others morphed colours. At night, it made quite the spectacle. Many people had stopped, much like yourself, to admire the aurora and pull their significant other a little bit closer. You huffed, hating this lonesomeness inside you.

But then you felt a quick pair of fingers dance up your back, and immediately recognized his eyes shining like stars.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you at the lights.” Joshua remarked, zipping up his jacket. “They’ve been up for a while now.”

“It’s always a magnet for couples.” You told him, glancing around at all the handholding and heads leaned adoringly on shoulders. “And I am—well, I was, standing here alone.” Inside your coat pocket, you played with a piece of lint, realizing that perhaps you finally felt ready and significantly healed to consider another relationship.

Looking at you from the corner of his eye, Joshua nodded.

It seemed as though the lights were a place he visited frequently, even amongst all the couples. To you, Joshua seemed like someone who was inspired by love. The not so subtle nature of awkward yet enamored eye contact which made people giggly. Holding onto the very tips of someone’s fingers because you couldn’t let go of their hand even for a second. Pressing an ear to a comfortable chest, listening for a rhythmic, thumping heartbeat. You bet he liked kisses too. Quick kisses on cheeks and gentle kisses on noses and slow, warm kisses to the mouth which could set a fire in your belly.

Out of the blue, you asked him something personal.

“How fast do you usually fall for someone?”

Joshua’s eyes traced the twinkling lights of the tree, all the way to the very top.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I’ve never thought about it.”

Kicking at a lump of hard snow, you sighed. “I think I fall too quickly. Maybe that’s why my last relationship ended the way it did. I just… I don’t know, it could be that I jumped in without knowing what’s beneath me. I don’t want that to happen again.”

The boy glanced at you, snowflakes already beginning to stick in his hair. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with taking things slow. I mean, there’s always going to be some chance in a relationship. You don’t know until you’re in it.”

“I guess so.” You replied. “When I think about it, anything’s better than getting text message-dumped right before a family dinner.” Joshua wasn’t a stranger to the humiliating affairs of your past relationship. One night, after one too many beverages at the bar, you introduced him to the entire story.

“Bad luck.” The boy said.

“Bad taste, more like.” You sighed. “I mean, what was I thinking?”

Joshua shook his head, his hand rubbing your shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up. Seriously, the right person will come along.”

Short laughter burst through your nose, and you looked at him with a knowing, lighthearted grin. “Are you supposed to be that person, Joshua Hong?”

“I’d like to think I am.” He chuckled, his cheeks getting rosier. “But I know you’re not ready. I can be patient, though.”

“So, you’re going to wait for me?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Joshua nodded. “For you, and you only? Of course.”

At that, something deep in your chest began to stir. The feeling robbed you of your words and left you breathless. Afraid of what you might do in the silence between you, quickly, you changed the subject.

“Am I going to hear that special song you wrote? Or have you scrapped it already?”

“You’ll hear it.” Joshua said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out an ivory guitar pick. “Save your applause for the very end, though. I know you might be tempted to start cheering, come up on stage in front of everyone and try to kiss me or something.”

Rolling your eyes, you started to laugh, your breath becoming a thin cloud in the still coldness of winter.

“You wish, Joshua Hong.”

He sighed, a faint smirk on his lips. “You’re right. I do.”

At approximately five o’clock in the morning, you were awakened by a fist banging at your front door. For a moment, you believed it was nothing more than part of a fuzzy dream, and simply tossed over in bed as your arms dug further under the pillow. However, the banging resumed almost instantly, and though it was very muffled, someone was calling your name.

Groaning, you dragged yourself from between the sheets and into the washroom, taking a quick sip of water before splashing some to your face. In a loose pair of shorts and a poorly adjusted tank-top, you stumbled to the front door, throwing it open while yawning.

“J-Joshua?” You mumbled, rubbing circles to your eye.

He stood on the opposite side of the threshold with a glimmery-red gift bag in his hand. For some reason, he was dressed in his jacket, those dark brown locks of his seeming damp or partly soaking as they were brushed back from his forehead. His cheeks and mouth were rosy, eyes glistering, and he was breathing deep.

You thought he looked gorgeous.

“Hey!” He exclaimed a little too loudly, as though he’d forgotten how early it was. “So, uh, weird news. Turns out we’re leaving for South Korea today, and we have to catch this seven-am flight. We’re kinda pressed for time. Jeonghan’s been helping me throw all my shit into these suitcases and—anyways, besides the point.” Taking in another breath, Joshua then held up the pretty red gift bag. “I got you for the Gift Exchange. Well—not really. But I made Mrs. Akané switch with me. This is for you.”

The sudden splurge of information had for feeling even more disorientated than when you first awakened. Joshua had to leave already? Had he been packing ever since you walked home together from his show? He pulled strings to get you for the Gift Exchange?

Reaching into the bag and pushing around some tissue paper, you pulled out a rectangular-shaped kit. It felt fairly heavy.

And then you realized just what he’d gotten you.

“Really?” You smiled, letting the bag drop to the floor because all you cared about was the project in your hands. “Another paint by numbers kit? I didn’t even know they sold these here!”

Joshua nodded, brushing some melted drops of snow off his cheek. “It wouldn’t have arrived on time if I ordered it online. Trust me, it was a process. I had to get Jeonghan’s grandma to make some calls because she’s friends with this craft store lady.” He half-sighed, half-laughed. “I just remembered you were so upset about it when I met you. About a lot of things. And I never stopped feeling sorry. I know I laughed at it and everything, but I thought it was cute.”

You brought the project to sit on the dinner table. Looking outside into the street light, you were shocked at how heavily it was snowing. Huge, fluffy clumps. No wonder Joshua’s hair was so damp and his skin so flushed. You couldn’t believe that just a few hours ago, you were sitting on that barstool near the back of the dim room, listening to him sing and feeling like you were starting to love all over again. Now, Joshua was being whisked away.

“I should really get going.” Joshua said, rubbing his pink nose, “Jeonghan and Jihoon are waiting for me down there.”

“W-Wait!” You exclaimed before the boy could disappear.

Joshua paused, though you could read the look of urgence coloured to his face. It was merely a few seconds you stood in that spot, fiddling anxiously with your fingers and struggling to take another step, yet it felt as though time had stretched itself out like plasticine.

And even though it was slightly terrifying, you had never felt so warm and full of thrill until you had crossed the space to kiss him. Your hands pushed against Joshua’s chest, searching for stability, as you experienced the soft sensation of your lips pressed so desperately to his. Joshua grabbed your cheek in his cold hand to tilt your head a little more left. He stared at you with a hazy, sort of dreamlike look, just for a moment, before kissing you again.

“Am I making you late?” You laughed breathily in between the heated breadth of another kiss.

Joshua shook his head, taking your face in both his hands, moulding his mouth against yours in a smile.

“They can wait just a minute longer,” he answered, “I can’t believe you’re doing this right when I have to leave. You’re really screwing me over, here.”

“Then finish it when you get back.” You smirked.

This time, you were certain of something: you hadn’t jumped too soon. You weren’t going to crash. You were falling in love.

✧✎ a/n: the end the end!! happy holidays !! <3 honestly think it’s kind of the dream to get joshua as ur apartment neighbour xoxo. HOPE U LIKED THIS DANI AND THAT IT GAVE YOU SOME SMILES heheh. i actually haven’t written for joshua in quite a while so i rly appreciated getting to experiment with this. i also love the idea of joshua in a band and being a sappy romantic who always writes abt his future muse ;_; i’m not a huge fluff person BUT I WILL GLADLY GIVE UP EVERYTHING FOR THAT!

#caratwritersclub #joshua scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt fanfic #joshua fanfic #joshua hong #seventeen fanfic #svt fluff #joshua fluff #svt x reader #joshua x reader

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lovelyrita1967 · 3 years

Text

“I wish you wouldn’t wear your swords to the shops, Geralt.”

“Hmm.”

“It really sends a ‘we might kill you if you look at us wrong’ sort of vibe.”

“I wear my swords everywhere, Jaskier.”

“Well, not everywhere.” Jaskier wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Geralt.

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Well, yes, I take them off in our flat, don’t I.”

They climbed the remaining steps up to their door and Jaskier waited patiently, swinging the grocery bags gently and whistling, while Geralt worked his way through the six different locks he had installed.

Geralt pushed the door open and Jaskier swept in, dropping his bags on the floor and immediately flopping onto the sofa to scratch Mousesack behind the ears.

Geralt paused and frowned, looking around their flat. “Did you leave those lights on before we left?”

“Hmm? Oh, um… no? Maybe? I can’t say I remember… Who’s a good boy? Did you miss me?” He buried his face in the cat’s grey fur. Mousesack looked unimpressed.

Geralt stilled and listened carefully to every room in the flat, and the floors above and below them too, for good measure. Nothing amiss. He pulled his swords from his back and propped them in the rack by the door.

Jaskier continued to whisper sweet nothings into Mousesack’s ear while Geralt collected the groceries and headed into the kitchen. It was then he realized there was a sound missing. The hum of the refrigerator.

He pulled it open and was hit with the faint smell of meat just starting to go off. He sighed. “Fuck.” The fridge wasn’t that old. “Jaskier,” he called. “The fridge is broken. I hope you’re hungry, because-”

“Yeeeouch!” Jaskier howled from the other room. Before he even finished his shriek, Geralt was in front of him, sword raised.

Jaskier looked up at him, finger in his mouth. He started to chuckle. “Look at you. You’re adorable.”

“I can’t help it, it’s instinct,” Geralt muttered, reluctantly lowering his sword.

“Well, please don’t slice off Mousesack’s head. I don’t think he meant to claw me.”

The cat started impassively at Geralt, tail twitching.

Geralt narrowed his eyes at the cat. “He clawed you?”

“Yes, but I’m sure it was an accident, wasn’t it, my little-” He reached for Mousesack when the cat hissed and swiped at him again.

Jaskier frowned. “That’s weird.” They watched Mousesack hop off the sofa and saunter into the bedroom, tail raised in disdain.

“What did you do to him?” Geralt asked. The cat wasn’t friendly with Geralt on a good day, but he normally tolerated Jaskier affection with much more patience.

“Nothing I haven't done a million times before.” Jaskier shrugged. “Sorry, what were you saying about the fridge?”

“It’s broken. We have to eat everything.”

“Oh my. Good thing it’s cardio day tomorrow.” Jaskier patted his still firm belly. “I wouldn’t say no to frying up the rest of those sausages…”

They ate a rather large supper, and delivered a plate to their widowed neighbour. She managed to fit some of their condiments in her fridge too, so all was not lost.

After dinner Geralt went for a shower while Jaskier lounged on their bed, scrolling through his phone. Geralt hadn’t been in the bathroom long when the door banged open and he stormed out, dripping wet, with a towel wrapped hastily around his waist.

“Well, hello there.” Jaskier sat up on the bed and tossed his phone to the side. “One wet witcher. Just what I ordered.”

“There’s no hot water,” Geralt growled.

“Mmm, I can warm you up.” Jaskier pulled his t-shirt off and threw it onto the floor.

Geralt stared at him. “What the fuck is going on?”

Jaskier paused in the middle of yanking his pants off. “What do you mean? You’re already naked, I was just...”

“Are you kidding me?” Geralt scrubbed his face in exasperation. “The lights, the fridge, the hot water, the fucking cat…” He glared at Jaskier. “Did you get cursed again?”

Jaskier gasped, offended. “I did not! I have been perfectly well behaved! For days now.”

Geralt frowned, hands on his hips, when the lights flickered off then back on again. “It’s almost like we have pixies, except we’d have seen one by now-” He stopped. “Fuck. I think I know what happened. Get dressed.”

“We’re going out now?”

“Now.”

Ten minutes later, his swords in place, they were striding down the road. Jaskier grumbled about the pace Geralt was setting.

“Geralt, are you going to tell me where we're going?” he finally whined.

“Right here.” They stopped, looking up at a posh brownstone.

* * * *

Read the rest on AO3!

@oxbridge-quality-fanfiction-co @marvagon @geraskierficrecs@ro-the-bard-writer @carmillacarmine @ikeptupwiththejoneses @rawrkinjd@fangirleaconmigo @jaskierswolf @lottelorelei @swx3detfgy-blog @gilbert-von-kneecap @sharingfandomsilove @tossacointoyourcostumedesigner @chaotic-bard @gosh-diddley-darnit @benisalilbitch @distractedbyfandoms @bardic-charm @bastardofmothman @watchthewolvesfall @panerato @fontegagrilledcheese @ewanspotter @spacewitchqueen @lobacitabruer @peanitbear @dapandapod @geraskier-trashh @stinastar @valley-of-plenty @round--robin @tee-aitch-official @killedbylawstudies @llamasdumpsterfire @sarah-midnight @dani-dandelino

#geraskier #geraskier fic #ficlet #cursed flat #true love #the witcher #Geralt #geralt of rivia #Jaskier #geralt loves jaskier #gerlion

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ally22042000 · 3 years

Text

BTS Reaction: Someone breaking into your house

Hey. I hope you enjoy this one, it’s been in my drafts for a year 😊 It is my first fic/reaction. I am sorry for any spelling and grammer mistakes.

Fluff, Angst, Smut (Just a little)

Kim Seokjin

The both of you were on your way home from dinner. The past few weeks had been very stressful for the both of you. Jin had a comeback coming his way and you had multiple deadlines to reach. So, the both of you though it was time to give yourselves a break and go out for some couple quality time. It wasn’t until Jin had parked the car in front of your house, noticing the light that was shining trough the curtains, that you got that weird feeling in your stomach telling you something was wrong.

“Die we leave the lights on?” you questioned, interrupting him mid-sentence. Jin’s brows furrowed, trying to remember how the house looked when you left.

“Stay in the car” was all he said, before he opened his door and made his way to your front door. You watched has he climbed the three little steps in front of your door, before he pushed at it slightly, the wood instantly sliding back. It wasn’t locked. Shocked you follow Jin’s frame with your eyes, which was disappearing in your house. Holding your breath, you waited for what was going to happen next. Another light was flicked on, before a person came bolting outside, running down the little steps. Whoever that person was, definitely wasn’t smart. Slipping on the ice that covered the floor, he fell, hitting his head, knocking himself out. You opened the door, sliding out of you seat and running over to the man laying unconscious on the ground. Jin followed soon, standing in the door way with a frying pan in his hand, ready to swing.

“Is he dead?” was the first thing the idol asked. You threw a glare at him before descending your fingers to the pulse point of the man. Shaking your head as soon as you felt a pulse.

“I bet you’re happy now that I didn’t put salt on the steps this morning when you told me to.” If you weren’t still shocked form the events that just happened you would have thrown your shoe at him, wiping of that stupid smile of his. But you settled for another glare before calling the police.

Min Yoongi

It was 10:32 pm when Yoongi finished the last thing on his To-Do list for the day. Closing the file, he just worked on for the past two hours, he leaned back in his chair and stretched his muscles. A buzzing sound from beside him got his attention and he couldn’t help the lazy smile when he saw you picture appearing on the screen.

“Hey baby. I just finished. I’ll be home in forty, alright?” He was in the procced of shutting down his computer, when he heard you low and breathy voice.

“Yoongi, listen, there are two people in the house. I think they broke in. I can hear them in the living room. I don’t know what to do.” He could hear your voice quivering towards the end. He didn’t bother with the computer anymore, focus solely on you.

“Where are you?” he asked, while grabbing his keys and leaving the room. Door open for everybody, but that was the last of his concerns.

“In our bedroom” came the answer immediately.

“Lock the door and hid in the bathroom. Lock the door there two.” he commanded. You did as he told you. Hiding in the bathtub as soon as you made sure the last door was locked.

“Okay, I’m there. What now?” scared of the outcome of all this, tears started to gather in your eyes. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat and hear it in your head.

“Now, I’m going to hang up so I can call the police, okay baby? I’m still too far away to help you and maybe they are faster.” That was the first time he cursed himself for wanting to rent an apartment so far away from the studio. Without another word he hung up the phone, calling the police immediately and explaining the situation, while he was still driving down the empty roads. Trying not to kill anyone or get killed. They told him they would be there as fast as possible.

You heard the sirens coming closer and closer, feeling slightly safer. You heard them break in through the front door, the robbers still trying to grab as much as they can, not even realising that they were doomed until it was too late. The next thing you heard is what finally made you realise that you were save.

“Y/N? Y/N!” You heard Yoongi banging on the bedroom door. Quickly getting out of the bathtub, unlocking the two doors just as fast. Yoongi’s arms engulfed you the second he laid eyes on you. And that was the moment you couldn’t hold back any longer. Surrounded by his scent, mint and coffee, you couldn’t control your emotions any longer. Tears were rolling down your face, soaking the male’s sweats shirt. And Yoongi held you through it, pulling you closer and whispered over and over that you were save and had nothing to worry. And when you finally calmed down you opened your eyes and looked down to the ground. Not able to stop the little giggle escaping your mouth.

“Babe, where are you shoes?”

Jung Hoseok

There are no words to explain the fear that shot through Hobi’s body when he saw the red and blue lights shining in front of your shared apartment. There were police officers running around questioning people and pushing others out of the way. Slowly his feet moved one after the other walking through the little crowed that had gathered. He was about to pass them when a police woman pushed him back into the crowed.

“Sir, I’m sorry but you’re not allowed any closer. Please stay put.” She let a hand on his chest to make sure he got the message.

“No, you don’t understand, I life here. That’s my home. Where is Y/N?” he explained, constantly trying to get past the small woman.

“Sir, please, follow the instructions or I’ll have to use force.” A threating comment was about to leave Hoseok lips that he will be the one using force if she didn’t tell him were the love of his life was this instant. But before he could do any of that he heard the voice that could make everything better.

“Hobi, oh my god, Hobi. It’s okay, please let him through. He’s my boyfriend” you screamed as soon as you laid eyes on your dancer. The woman in front of him reluctantly moved out of the way but kept a watchful eye on the young man. But Hoseok’s attention was only on you. The second he could, he captures you in his arms. A hand on the back of your head, pressing you to him.

“Are you alright? What happened?” he asked.

“Someone broke into our home while I was in the shower. Hobi, everything is gone. TV, Laptops, my phone and wallet. Thankfully one of the neighbours saw what happened and called the police. I wouldn’t even know how I could have informed them.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” He said, grabbing your hands, making him look at him. “I really don’t care that our TV is gone or any of the other stuff, okay? That’s renewable, but you aren’t. I’m so glad nothing happened to you.” And one more time you found yourself buried in his arms, a place you never want to leave.

Kim Namjoon

You and your husband where awoken by your child’s loud cries. Slowly you rose to your feet, sitting at the edge of the bed for a moment, trying to regain your balance and vision. Your phone on the nightstand told you it was 02:00 am. With a heavy sighing you got up from your place. Moving out of the room and down the hall to your four-month old’s bedroom. A freezing breeze greeted you in the hallway, forcing you to pull Namjoon’s shirt lower. Your pace picked up, having the strong feeling, that something wasn’t alright. Your baby’s screams grew louder as you walked into the room.

Namjoon’s name left your lips in the form of a scream, while you ran to the bed of your child. Lifting the crying baby up and moving away from the broken window. You heard you husbands feet banging against the wood floor, running as fast as possible. The both of you turned on every single light you owned. Or rather Namjoon turning on the lights and you walking behind him with your baby girl still in your arms. The little one followed her father with a curious look in her eyes. Not yet sure if she liked the new game.

After being sure nobody was in the house, you called the police, which arrived shortly after. They took a lot of picture form the crime scene and asked the both of you a lot of questions. Almost two hours later, the three of you lay down in you king sized bed. The broken window was covered with a blanked and tape. You would call someone to fix it in two hours, when you had to get up anyway.

You looked at your husband’s face, the worried stare he had when he entered the baby room had not left him.

“We could have lost her tonight. We, we-“,he couldn’t finish, before the tears were streaming down his face. The thought of what could have happened to you daughter making both your throats tighten.

Park Jimin

Tears were streaming down Jimin’s face as he held on to your pale hand. He couldn’t stop them and J-Hope’s hand on his shoulder did little to lessen the pain. For Jimin it was his fault.

The reason why you were laying in a hospital bed right now, machines breathing for you. That was all on him. He was the one who said you should go ahead and that he would follow with the grocery bags. You insisted that you’d help him, but he didn’t let you. Why didn’t he let you? If he would have, you wouldn’t have been the first in the house. You wouldn’t have been shot by the guy robbing your house of its belongings. And you most defiantly wouldn’t be laying in that hospital bed right now, fighting for your life.

So Jimin saw no other person that he could blame, but him. And the only person who could assure him and make him see that it was in fact not his mistake, not his wrong doing. That person was laying in a come right no. Fixed heart beating in your chest and broken boyfriend gripping your hand.

“Please, Y/N, please come back to me. I’m sorry, please. I need you.”

Kim Taehyung

Tae’s face was lit up by his significant smile, as soon as he saw your face appear on the screen. Hurrying to answer the call, not able to contain his happiness at the prospect of talking to you.

“Hey honey. How are you? I miss you so much, you can’t even imaging. Okay maybe you can because you miss me too, but- wait, are that police sirens in the back. Y/N what happened?” By now he was standing in his room, one hand was holding his phone, the other running through his hair, slipping of his hat in the process.

“Hey, babe. I need you to calm down. It’s nothing bad, alright? Just breath.” It’s interesting how your voice always managed to calm him down. Even hundreds of miles away, the melody of you words still had a huge influence on him. However, the second your next words left your mouth, all kind of calmness flew out the window and was replace by a stultifying wariness.

“I was watching TV in our bedroom, when I heard some noise form downstairs. Someone broke into the house and tried to steal our stuff.”

“Tried? Y/N, please don’t tell me you did anything stupid?”

“Okay, first things first, I never do anything thing stupid. Second things second, when I opened the door to our bedroom, to figure out where the noise was coming from, Yeanton ran past me and scared the invader. After that he left immediately. A few things are missing, but not as much as would’ve if Yeanton wouldn’t have been here.” After you finished your little story time, Tae’s heartrate had regulated itself back to a normal beat. A proud smile forming on his face.

“Oh my god, he did. I knew he would protect his mommy if it was necessary. Tell him he did well. We need to buy him lots of treats for his heroic action.”

After the initial shock was gone the both of you talked about the tour and planed what you would do when he came back. But the second Yeanton jumped into your lap, barking to get you attention, you were forgotten and had to listen to Tae talking through the phone to his dog. And Yeanton who stared at the phone confused, barking from time to time. And one more time you realised how happy you were with you little family. The boys always looking after you and vice versa.

Jeon Jungkook

Your back met the wall next to your door with a low thump. Jungkook’s body pressing you into the surface immediately. His lips were still connected to yours, tongues fighting for dominance. You could feel his arms flailing around, as he tried to find his keys. A frustrated sound left his throat, when he didn’t find the object. He released your lips, taking a step back and continuing his search. A whine left your lips at the loss of contact.

That’s when you took a lock at the door next to you, noticing, how it was slightly open. You stretched a hand out to the male in front of you, planting it against his chest, making him stop. Jungkook looked at you, confused, why you would stop him. Although it was hard for him to focus, with all the blood running southwards at the moment, he notices the unordinary scene in front of him. Without a second thought, he walked towards the door, pushing it open. You hooked your hand into one of the loops of his trousers, hiding behind him. Your apartment was covered in black, only the moon providing enough vision to make out your furniture. The both of you walked deeper into the apartment, trying to be as quiet as possible. A movement to right caught your attention, turning your head, a loud gasped escaped you. A man was standing in your kitchen, a knife in his hand. Jungkook was alarmed by your reaction, rotating the both of you, so he was standing like a shield before you.

“Please, take everything you want, but don’t hurt us.” Jungkook’s voice was strong, not letting the man know, how much his appearance and the weapon in his hand scared him. When the man took a step in your direction, the both of you took one back. Jungkook’s hand setting on your waist, pushing you farther behind him.

“Jungkook? Y/N?” You heard the voice from a sleeping Jimin, tumbling down the stairs. For a moment both of your attention were on the small feet that came into view. When you turned back around, the mystery man was gone. And you had never been so thankful for the older boy’s heart break, wich caused him to move in with you. Not wanting to know, what could have happened, if he didn’t come done stairs the moment he did.

�

#bts #bts reactions #bts x reader #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #bts army #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut

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rebelrainfall · 3 years

Text

you know what they say about absence

ao3 link here

Hey @cassianserso it’s me, your secret santa! I loved your prompt (Jyn and Cassian writing letters to each other), and I had SO much fun with it. I so hope I did it justice!

***

The cold air hits Jyn like a wall as the door to the transport swings open. It may be a good thing - there was barely room to sit down during this last four-hour leg of the return trip and she’s about ready to collapse. Cassian’s not in the hangar, not that she expected him to be, and neither is the U-wing. He must have left already, for what will be his first covert op in almost a year. He was so restless being grounded, hated feeling useless. She’s happy for him.

She’s less happy for herself, not that that’s a thought she has the time or will to explore.

No matter what Solo might say, there’s nothing weird about what she and Cassian are. Since those few, tense weeks after Scarif they’ve become close, and that’s all it is. They share a room because it’s convenient. They’re friends. Partners. And yeah, if someone had told her a year ago her life would be like this she would have been terrified, but things are different now. It’s good. What they have is good. She’s good at soothing that little voice that cries every now and then (more than she’d ever like to admit) for more. What he gives her is more than enough.

Jyn punches the code into the door of their room, ignoring the pounding behind her eyes. She has a day and a half before she’ll have to ship out again and she intends to spend as much of that time as possible asleep. Even the hot water in the ‘fresher isn’t enough to keep her there for a moment longer than necessary.

Cassian is definitely gone. The cot across from hers is neatly made, his least-conspicuous jacket gone from its hook. He’ll be on a mid level of Coruscant by now, if she remembers correctly what he told her.

Her own things are almost entirely the way she left them. Her blankets are half-on, half-off the bed, her vest thrown over the back of the desk chair, but there is something different.

There’s a piece of folded flimsi on her pillow.

There’s no introduction - her name isn’t even on it. But the note is in Cassian’s handwriting.

I was hoping you’d be back before I left and it came so close. If you arrived when you were scheduled to it’ll only have been an eight hour difference. I can’t say when I’ll be back but I think it should be soon.

I heard from Bodhi yesterday. He says to tell you training is going well. He didn’t say as much, but it sounds like things are going well with Skywalker, too.

K wasn’t cleared to come with me for this one and he’s very upset about it, so be advised. He should be having his ocular lenses replaced in Bay 3 if you need him.

Maybe you’ll be around when I get back next time. I guess I’ve gotten used to [word(s) scribbled out] having someone else in the room at night. The silence is strange.

There’s no ending or signature, but she doesn’t need one. Cassian never struck her as one for gestures like this, and that he went out of his way to leave this for her makes her warm in a way she refuses to linger on.

She sleeps twelve hours that night, and ten the next, and in the time between she snatches a sheet of flimsi from a supply closet to return the favour.

I’m sorry I can’t be back to see you. Trafficking rings don’t like to be kept waiting. At least I had two full nights in a proper bed, but you’re right. I miss It is too quiet here alone.

K is a little more charitable now that he can see again. I almost want to say pleasant, but we both know that word doesn’t apply to him. Don’t listen to anything he may tell you - the smoke bomb was his idea.

I’m shipping off again this afternoon to the outer rim, somewhere near Sullust. Pilot says the planet’s almost as cold as here. Bet you had a nice warm room on Coruscant, too bad I can’t stow away with you.

She leaves her note on his pillow and climbs into the shuttle with his in her pocket, like some holo-drama damsel collecting love letters.

Maybe he’ll be here next time she gets back.

II.

He isn’t.

There are signs all over the room that he was here, at some point, since her. Another jacket missing from its hook, an empty mug where she didn’t leave it.

Another note on her pillow.

Just missed you again. We have the worst timing. I’m back on Coruscant, but this next stint is [word(s) scribbled out] delicate. I might be back in a few weeks, but it could be months. I hoped to see you before I left, but you’re right. The war doesn’t wait.

Don’t let it go to your head, but I think I miss you. I still couldn’t bring K and it gets [word(s) scribbled out] boring by myself. K’s still being a grump - keep him company for me, hey? I also heard something about him attempting to create his own language to bother Skywalker’s droid, so I suggest you keep an eye on that.

There’s still no signature, but this time there’s a date. Two weeks ago. Jyn puts the flimsi down with a heavy breath. It could be months. The timing is… not great. She has an unusual stretch of downtime, more than a week, and no one to spend it with. This is the end of what she’d become accustomed to, she realizes. Now that he’s back in the field, Cassian can no longer be a daily fixture in her life. The prospect frightens her more than she cares to consider.

It’s ironic. Never thought I’d be sad to be alone.

Of course it isn’t so lonely as she might have feared. Bodhi is finally back from his flight training, a full-fledged X-wing pilot with the stories and the friends to prove it. He’s come such a long way in the short time she’s known him and his company is refreshing, even if he isn’t the man she finds her mind wandering far too often toward now that he’s gone.

She sleeps fine that week, though the nights are still too quiet. She could never miss the hum of snoring and whispers of the pathfinders at night. But alone, the dark and the quiet are oppressive in their deepness, threatening to swallow her without Cassian’s steady breathing from across the small space. It scares her, how accustomed she’s gotten to having someone else around. To having him around.

Maybe this is for the best, this separation. She hadn’t realized how much she relies on Cassian, his presence, his kindness. It’s a dangerous game, to rely on anyone. She’s always held a savage pride toward her independence, and maybe this reminder is what she needs to get herself back on track.

Maybe.

But when she considers it, life without him seems more frightening even than the weakness of reliance. She doesn’t have to be alone any more. The night before she leaves again she sits at the desk in their quarters writing him another note.

Sorry I can’t be here, tried my best! Since you’re so broken without me. I’m never forgetting that and I’ll make sure you don’t either.

Hope you’re here when I get back. I need Bodhi needs someone else to talk to - you can only hear the same three stories about Luke Skywalker so many times and I hit my limit two days after he got back.

Heading back to the outer rim today. Those traffickers from before are gone so now we’re just cleanup crew. Getting sick of Dameron’s jokes. Not that yours are any better.

Maybe I do miss you

III.

Four time zones on three different planets in the space of a week and Jyn’s circadian rhythm is wrecked. Thane says it’s 0500 local time when they hit atmo and she has to take his word for it because that makes as much sense as anything else.

She doesn’t see many people as she lugs her duffle back toward the barracks. It’s early enough that anyone on a night shift is still working and most of those who start in the morning aren’t awake yet. Madine’s given the crew the full day off, thank the force, and Jyn intends to take full advantage of that fact.

She opens the door and switches on the light before she notices anything different. Someone startles upright on the cot across from hers.

“Shavit, sorry!” She flicks it back off, already halfway to the ‘fresher to turn on that light instead as her pack lands on the floor with a quiet thud.

“No, no, it’s ok. I’m not - I wasn’t asleep.” Cassian’s voice is rough, but alert. “Turn on the light.”

She does, kicking off her boots, before the first thing he said registers. “It’s five in the morning! Why weren’t you asleep?”

He shrugs, squinting at her as his eyes adjust to the light. His hair has gotten longer since she saw him last, long enough now to fall in his face. A little part of her wants to comb it away from his eyes, or maybe tousle the bit by his ears. She shoves the thought away.

“Hi, by the way,” he says, ignoring her question. “Did you just get back?”

“Yeah.” She slumps down on her bed. “And hello to you, too.”

Stars, she’s missed him. Until now she hadn’t realized how much. But now that she’s looking at him… The way he smiles at her, gentle, makes her want little more than to wrap her arms around him. Kiss that gorgeous grin off his face.

Oh.

When did that start?

(A long time ago, not that she means to admit it).

He’s saying something but she missed the beginning, a little distracted.

“Sorry?”

He shakes his head. “You really are tired. I said, meet me for lunch, if you’re awake by then?”

“Sure, I probably will be.” She’ll make sure she is - like she would skip a meal with him after the six weeks they’ve just missed each other. “How long are you back?”

“Technically, I’m still a stand-by agent. So probably a while.

“I have at least a week.” Jyn drags herself back upright and heads towards the ‘fresher. The sooner she gets in the shower, the sooner she can get out and into bed. The hot water is heaven after so long caked in mud, but it still isn’t enough to keep her any longer than necessary. Once she’s out and dressed she sits on the counter to braid her hair, listening to Cassian talk about Coruscant through the open door.

“You should know, my ‘apartment’ sucked. My neighbour in the unit below smoked and it would come up through the vent and I didn’t have any windows. You would have hated it.”

“Wanna bet? I slept in a tree last night. Not a treehouse or even a platform, a hollowed-out tree.”

He huffs a laugh. “Sounds like fun.”

She finishes her hair and turns her attention to the healing gash on her shoulder, opening the cupboard for a square of gauze and a roll of medical tape. She hops down from the counter to pass them to him. “Help me with this?”

“Where?”

“Shoulder. I can’t quite reach it.”

She turns around and pulls down the strap of her tank top to show him. He hisses in sympathy.

“What did you do to yourself?”

“Fight with that stupid tree. It looks worse than it is.”

“Still.”

Settling down on his bed, he guides her to sit in front of him so he can center the gauze over the wound. His hands are gentle smoothing the edge of the tape to her skin. She hopes it’s cold enough that he’ll assume that’s what makes her shiver. He’s so careful - far more than she would have been.

He runs a hand softly up and down her back once it’s in place, and Jyn freezes.

“There,” he murmurs, “All patched up.”

“Thank you,” she says, proud of how steady her voice is. Force, she’s pathetic. He’s her friend. This is nothing new, this touch is not new.

If she were to lean back she would be in his arms.

Not that she’s thinking about that.

They’ve lived together for months. He’s touched her more than this dozens of times. Why is this the gesture to undo her?

Cassian clears his throat and she almost jumps. Kriff, did he notice her sudden nervousness? But then he gestures to the desk and the two cups on it.

“Caf for me, tea for you. Should be cool enough to drink, now.”

Oh, he’s an angel. She stands up to get them and then to sit down on her own cot, grateful to have an excuse to get away from his overwhelming proximity. She passes his mug across to him and takes a sip of hers, and of course it’s her favourite kind.

“Thank you. You’re getting up now?”

“If I get more done this morning I can have a longer break for lunch with you.”

Stars, has he always been this kind?

“Aw,” she deadpans, “It’s like you missed me.”

He flicks his eyes up to hers, then looks down into his own drink.

“I did.”

She focuses on her tea, carefully not looking at him. She can’t feel this way. Not now, not ever. This is Cassian.

“How did the rest of the trip go? Aside from the evil tree.” It’s been quiet for long enough that the question is a surprise. She shrugs. It’s ok, she tells herself. He’s her friend and that’s more than enough. She’ll love him forever for it no matter how else her traitorous heart might behave.

“Boring. Helped Kyrell’s squadron distribute aid for a while, and then we took out the last holdout cell. It was never a huge operation. That ring had maybe a dozen ships.”

“Boring is good.”

“Mm. How about you?”

“A little less boring, but I can’t… it’s classified, sorry.”

She knows he’s not brushing her off. She wishes there was something he could tell her, if only to keep hearing his voice after so long, but she’s used to that answer. So she takes another sip of her tea and tries to remember anything that’s happened. Anything she could say to make him smile.

“How is Kay?” Is what she settles on. “Did he finish that spite-project of his?”

“His language? He did, and Threepio is suitably bothered.”

“Good.”

“What’s better though - the princess caught wind of it and now she’s trying to figure out if we could work it into a code. So all the droids might have to learn it, not just Threepio.”

It was the right topic. Casisian’s lit up as he tells her about this, all the little details he knows. She finishes her tea before she has time to realize it, and her exhaustion really is starting to catch up with her, but it’s not until Cassian stands up that she gives any of that a moment’s thought.

“You should get to bed,” he says, crouching down to fish his clothes out from the drawer under his bed. “You have six hours ‘til lunch and if you’re late I’m not saving you caf.”

“Mean,” she grumbles, pulling her blankets up off the floor and setting an alarm on her datapad while he takes out a towel. She hears Cassian turn on the shower as she lays down. She’s asleep before it shuts off.

Jyn would not consider herself a morning person. Not that it’s truly morning when her alarm goes off at half-after noon, but that’s just a technicality. She tells herself it’s better for her sleep cycle to get up now, and go back to bed at a more normal hour, but really it’s only her plan with Cassian that gets her properly awake.

Alarm still blaring, she reaches under the bed to grab the first set of clothes she can reach. She sits up, stretches, and reaches to turn it off.

And stops.

There’s a piece of flimsi on her datapad.

Confused, she reaches for it. She talked to Cassian only hours ago, and she’ll see him soon, so why would he need to leave her a letter now?

Unless he couldn’t meet her. If he was sent off for another op, if he’s going to be gone for weeks, but no. He’d have woken her if he had to leave. He wouldn’t leave without a goodbye.

She unfolds the note, worried. Something must be wrong.

Jyn, it begins, and that’s new. She likes the way her name looks in his small, tidy writing.

Jyn,

I’m glad you’re home. I really have missed you. So much.

There’s something I want you to know. I never planned to tell you but [word(s) scribbled out] I think I see things a little differently now. I should have waited until I saw you at lunch but I think this may be easier in writing.

I won’t waste time. I love you. You know that already, you must. You mean so much to me and I don’t want to imagine my life without you. But it’s more than that, I’m in love with you. I was never going to bring it up but something this morning [word(s) scribbled out] [word(s) scribbled out]. I can’t explain it.

If I’m right, if you want what I do, forgive me for doing this the coward’s way and let me be yours. If I’m wrong, [word(s) scribbled out] I’m so sorry. Please, please, let me down softly and I’ll never bring this up again. We can forget about it, I’ll get over myself, just let me be in your life. I had to tell you. I love you. I’m sorry.

Jyn stares down at the words on the page.

It doesn’t compute.

Not the first time, barely the second time.

Let me be yours.

Jyn puts the letter down after her fourth time reading it, only to pick it right back up again. She takes a deep breath, forcing her mind into a facsimile of calm and tries to think logically.

Everything she’s hardly realized she wanted. More.

He…

He loves her.

Cassian loves her. And by now he’s probably sitting in the mess wondering if she’ll show up. Assuming the worst, if she knows him at all.

He loves her.

Luckily, there’s something she can do about that.

#cassianserso #rebelcaptainsecretsanta #rebelcaptain #therebelcaptainnetwork #my writing #did i learn to write aurebesh specifically for that banner at the top?#maaaaaaybe

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gravelyhumerus · 3 years

Text

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter Twelve

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away” Relationship: Jemily

Rating: Explicit (as of this chapter) Summary: JJ faces consequence for her actions (and gets a hickey).

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

JJ threw herself down onto the bench, hoisting her cleat onto the table and yanking the laces loose. She bit her cheek to keep from crying as her breaths came in heaves.

She had run from it all, again. That’s all she was good for anyways, running away. It’s what Jareaus did best.

She closed her eyes, focusing on the present, pushing away all of the thoughts of home that were flashing across her vision.

Home, in her quiet, empty childhood home, JJ had gotten a text from Emily Prentiss. JJ read the message, standing stock-still in the bathroom that sent shivers down her spine.

The sight of the girl’s name made her smile, brought a shiver of excitement down her spine and the ghost of a kiss to her lips.

But, when she closed her eyes, Rosalyn’s blood pooled on the tile floor underneath her feet. JJ couldn’t respond to Emily’s text. Instead, she curled up on the floor next to where her sister died.

JJ shook her head, returning to the present. This wasn’t the time, she thought.

She moved to her other shoe, untying the laces and prying the cleat off of her sore foot. She rolled her knee-high socks off of her calves, focusing on the familiar motions and not the swirling thoughts and emotions that tugged at her brain.

But today, soccer wasn’t helping. The sport had always been her solace, the pitch a place where she could forget who she was, what she was, for a couple hours. But today, the mess that was her life had broken through the barrier, and gotten her sent home from practice early.

JJ cursed as she stripped off her uniform, working her tight shirt and sports bra over her head, then removing her baggy navy blue shorts. Wrapping a towel around her, JJ grit her teeth as she took her toiletries into the shower.

With a protesting squeak, the tap spun under JJ’s hands. She turned it just past midway, then further into the red, hoping the hot water would wash away the fog that clogged JJ’s brain.

JJ’s father was gone. Her mother hadn’t had the heart to tell her. Leaving it for JJ to arrive in her childhood home, finding out in person that the dining room now had two empty chairs instead of just one.

She stepped into the shower and let the scalding water run over her body.

“I’m sorry Jenny,” her mother said, her voice breaking with the words. “I didn’t know how to say it over the phone, and after your break up-”

He had left without so much of a goodbye. She should have seen it coming. The fighting that had been bad when she was a teen, had only gotten worse after JJ wasn’t there to try and hold the pieces of her broken family together.

She had frozen in the foyer, her duffel bag still in hand, as her mother stood before her, begging her to say something.

JJ didn’t know what to say, still didn’t. All she knew was that she wasn’t enough. Not enough of a sister, of a daughter, of a girlfriend. She wasn’t enough for anyone, and she knew it. She couldn’t keep her family together. She couldn’t keep her sister alive. And she was certainly not good enough for someone like Emily Prentiss to love.

Hot tears melded with the water raining down from above as JJ let out a quiet sob that echoed through the change room.

“Jareau?” Kennedy’s confused voice called out as the door to the locker room slammed shut behind her.

JJ stifled her cry with her hand over her mouth and tried to settle herself down. Breathing in and out, JJ closed her eyes and focused on the rush of the hot water over her body.

JJ had run around the track, harder, faster, pushing herself further than she should have. She ran the drills sloppily, her aggression showing though in bursts of frustration when she couldn’t master her footwork. Her coach sent her to the locker room early; apparently he had enough of JJ’s bad mood.

JJ shook her head; she turned off the water and grabbed the towel, wrapping it around her before peeking her head out of the stall.

“Yeah?” she croaked.

“Seriously, like, what is going on with you?” Kennedy asked.

JJ frowned, walking over and sitting on the bench, busying herself with towelling off her hair with her extra towel rather than answering the question. She shivered in the cool air.

“You’ve been all over the place this semester,” Kennedy continued, unheeded. “First you’re all weird, then you’re all smiley, now your brain is somewhere else.”

JJ didn’t look at her.

“And frankly,” Kennedy continued, her wide blue eyes boring into the side of JJ’s face, “we can’t handle someone whose head isn’t in the game with playoffs coming up.”

JJ gulped. She was right. This had come at the worst possible time. All of this. And it was getting to her, affecting her game, making her sloppy. “Is this still about your break-up?” Kennedy asked. “Did something happen over Thanksgiving?”

“Honestly,” JJ sighed, “yes and no.”

“I don’t understand,” she said.

She didn’t really understand either. How could she tell Kennedy about how her mother had cried when she had told her that she and Will had broken up? How could she explain that the tense silence between her and her mother was the last straw? How it was somehow worse than her parents' constant fighting? How could she explain that when she stared at the closed door of her dead sister's room, all of the heartbreak came flooding back?

Kennedy watched her, her earnest face blank as JJ wrestled with her inner turmoil.

JJ’s mind flashed back to the hurt and pain on Emily’s face. The way Emily’s face collapsed into blankness as JJ pulled back, how JJ felt like she had betrayed her friend.

JJ tried to explain. She went over her break up, in significantly more detail than she planned to, how she had felt bogged down by him, how she didn’t want him to visit, how he seemed to sense that and broke up with her.

“But wasn’t all that a while ago?” Kennedy asked.

JJ sighed. This was the catch.

“There’s someone else on your mind, isn’t there?” Kennedy guessed. Sometimes the girl was actually perceptive. “Why haven’t you said anything? You’ve got to share. Is he hot?”

Well, not that perceptive.

JJ found herself laughing at the question. She thought for a second. She hadn’t really… come out to anyone before. Penelope Garcia didn’t count, she practically guessed. Same with Spencer. And JJ hadn’t even thought about telling her mom.

Kennedy was different. She thought JJ was straight and loved talking about boys with her. As the semester progressed, JJ’s interest in these conversations faded alongside her attraction to men.

“She is,” JJ said, to Kennedy’s surprise.

JJ then proceeded to explain her friendship with Emily, her crush on the girl, and her absolute panic when faced with a potential romance with the other girl.

“So you’re lesbian?” Kennedy asked.

“Yes. No. Maybe,” JJ floundered.

“You don’t like me, do you?!” she asked, horror on her face. JJ’s stomach sank at the question. “Because I’m not… not…”

“Kennedy, I don’t,” JJ assured her, feeling a touch icky about the conversation. “I don’t see you that way.”

“Should I stop changing in front of you?” she asked.

JJ sighed in frustration.

“Hey, you know how you don’t find all boys attractive?” JJ said, trying to dumb it down for her friend. “And some are just friends?”

“I guess,” Kennedy said, “So you don’t want to stare at girls in the change room?”

“No,” JJ said, “I’ve literally seen all of you guys naked. You’re like my siblings.”

“Oh thank god,” Kennedy said. JJ cringed at the relief in her voice, but decided not to call her out on it. “So this girl, Emily, you like her?”

“Yeah,” JJ said.

“Then why don’t you date her?” Kennedy asked. “Didn’t you guys kiss?”

JJ ran her hands through her hair—a nervous habit she knew messed up her hair and left it poofy—as she tried to formulate her response. She couldn’t even explain it to Emily, or herself, she wasn’t sure how to make Kennedy understand.

JJ hurt people. She messed everything up. She ruined her last relationship because she got bored of him. Would she do the same to Emily? That would ruin everything. She couldn’t lose Emily. It was better to be friends and have her close than have something more and ruin it.

Explaining that was a challenge, but eventually Kennedy got it. Mostly.

“I think I’ve just made it worse,” JJ said. “I did exactly what I was trying to avoid, I hurt her.”

“What happened?”

JJ didn’t know what happened. She was still trying to claw her way out of the fog that clogged up her brain.

“Emily texted me. And I just left her on read,” JJ said, her anger at herself coming through in her tone. “I didn’t mean to. She texted me when her flight landed but I was just so out of it.”

JJ gulped, rifling through her bag for some clothes as the chill of the room was creeping into her bones.

“I put off responding to Emily until I had a handle on my feelings,” JJ explained, she was too afraid baggage on this girl that she liked so much, desperately avoiding scaring her off.

Left alone in her childhood bedroom, the walls still painted pink and the band posters still hanging onto her wall with scotch tape, JJ’s thoughts swirled around. She worked herself up to a panic, pacing back and forth across the creaky wooden floor, until she laced up her sneakers and thundered downstairs.

She ran. First, around the block, passing the familiar neighbours and parks that populated her suburban neighbourhood. She pushed on, heading deeper into suburbia.

Tears stung at her eyes as the route took her back to high school, her feeling of desperation to escape, to get out of this shitty town and all the weight that made her feel like she was slowly sinking.

That weight had returned. Now, it doubled down on her, making her second guess it all.

“I could have just pretended like nothing was wrong,” JJ said, “But that felt like a lie.”

Before she realized it, she found herself jogging past Will’s house.

She remembered the year when he moved to Pennsylvania: it was tenth grade and he was the new kid. He hadn’t known Ros. He was safe, free of the expectations of JJ being the poor little Jareau girl.

Now, seeing his place sent a pit of anxiety into her stomach.

“But the more I put it off, the more I started questioning what I had started,” JJ said.

“Like, kissing her, you mean?” Kennedy asked, “Did you regret it or something?”

“No,” she replied, “I would never regret that.”

She ruined things. She hurt people. And if she let things continue with Emily, it would just blow up in her face.

JJ ran harder, slowly coming to a conclusion.

“I needed to break it off,” JJ said. “I knew I would hurt her. I just have so much going on. I’ll just hurt her.”

She gritted her teeth as she mentally prepared herself to tell Emily. She knew she had to get it over with. Nip it in the bud before it was real. She couldn’t lose her friend. If she did, she would lose them all.

It would be all her fault, if things ended badly. All their friends would know that JJ was to blame, Derek would hate her, Hotch too, Spencer would look at her differently, and Penelope would know she made the mistake of being JJ’s friend.

It would be better if they didn’t start. They didn’t kiss again. No one would get hurt. They could just be friends. Just friends.

“So you decided to stay friends? Why didn’t you just text her back?”

“I tried. I drafted text after text after text and nothing worked. I just kept deleting it.”

When JJ returned to her parents house—well, her mom’s house now—she picked up her phone, trying to draft a message to Emily. Try as she might, she couldn’t form a coherent sentence.

“I fucked it up,” JJ admitted to Kennedy. “I thought breaking things off before it started would be better, but I think I made things worse.”

“So you’re not dating her?”

“No.”

“Look Jen, I’m sorry about your family stuff. That’s hard. My parents split when I was twelve and it seriously fucked me up. I get it. But you gotta get over yourself.”

JJ frowned, feeling offended by the comment, but knew that Kennedy didn’t mean anything by it. She was just like that.

“You’re not going to make it better by wallowing and lashing out. It’s not healthy, and you’re going to cost us the playoffs. You need to get out of your head.”

Kennedy thought for a minute, seeming to size JJ up on the spot.

“You know what you need?” Kennedy said. “To get out. See new people. Drink. Have fun.”

This was Kennedy’s solution for everything, but for the first time, JJ didn’t turn the offer down, surprising even herself.

———

JJ gulped her beer, downing it quickly despite the warm foam that swirled in her mouth. She needed to be drunk, like right now. Kennedy seemed to agree, holding the bottle upright to allow the beer flow into JJ’s mouth until she finished the drink.

They were in a dingy frat house, surrounded by miscellaneous athletes. There was a lull before playoffs, for most teams, which meant that the weekend was jam packed with parties. This one was occupied by the soccer teams, men’s basketball, and assorted other players that JJ couldn’t place in her drunken state.

She wiped her mouth, depositing her bottle on the nearby table, and found herself stumbling somewhat. She was only getting more drunk at this point . After quite a few rounds of shots before they left Kenendy’s dorm room, JJ was well on her way to being blackout.

JJ was already regretting her decision. With finals and playoffs coming up, she should have been spending this time studying or training.

But, after days of side looks from Penelope and the sad look in Spencer’s eyes, JJ needed to get out of her residence, away from all the people who knew how much she had fucked it up. Ever since JJ and Emily returned to residence on Sunday, and JJ broke it off, tension between JJ and all of her friends had been palpable.

She had no idea how to fix things, and drinking away her problems seemed like it might actually work. She also knew that after a week of little to no appetite, the alcohol was hitting her harder than it would’ve on a full stomach.

“Easy girl,” Kennedy laughed, likely even drunker than the blonde. Her bright red hair was straightened, almost unrecognisable to JJ, who was used to the wild frizzy curls she usually sported, and fell halfway down her back. Her blue eyes glinted mischievously as she spotted some people going out for a smoke.

JJ sighed as Kennedy looked at her pleadingly, knowing the girl wanted to bum a cigarette. She was a notorious drunk smoker.

“Those will kill you,” JJ warned, as her mind wandered to how she sometimes spotted Emily sitting on the bleachers, smoking alone, lost in thought. She couldn’t explain how something so bad for you could look so hot in the right hands.

“Not if I have just one,” Kennedy said. “I’ll be fine. You need to talk to someone besides me and Jordan. Find a guy. It’ll be good for you.”

JJ sighed. Kennedy and her got along well during practices and were an unstoppable force on the field, but outside of that, they were very different people. Jordan Todd, their mutual friend on the team who played defence, was too busy talking to a group of volleyball players to notice JJ looking at her.

She ran her eyes around the cramped party, watching masses of bodies writhe to the pounding music. She opened her next beer and took a long swig, swaying slightly to the music, trying to get out of her head and enjoy the party.

Maybe Kennedy was right. Maybe if JJ could get her mind off Emily, she could focus on just being friends with her. Maybe without all of her romantic feelings clouding her thoughts, JJ could make amends and they could just be friends.

When Kennedy returned to the party, she had her boyfriend Grant Anderson in tow. He was stocky and had a round face, wearing a polo shirt, khakis and boat shoes like most of the guys at the party.

JJ greeted him pleasantly, though she was still a little cheesed that he had single-handedly gotten most of the team sick a few weeks ago.

“We’re getting her laid,” Kennedy announced.

JJ grimaced as Grant began to list off the eligible bachelors on the water polo team. JJ floundered with her response, deciding instead to gulp down her beer, hoping the alcohol would make this easier.

Before he finished his list, he spotted someone who he clearly decided would be perfect for her. He was tall, muscular, with kind eyes, a perfect man in any other circumstance.

Kennedy elbowed her in the side as he walked up to him, greeting him with exaggerated excitement and a pointed look to JJ. Despite their previous conversation about JJ’s ambiguous sexuality, Kennedy seemed to have defaulted to setting her up with men.

He told her his name was Luke, showed her pictures of his dog, and talked to her about how challenging it was to balance being a varsity lacrosse player with academics. He was perfect. The kind of boy that any girl would be thrilled to bring back home to her parents.

Except JJ couldn’t bring herself to feel any attraction to him. Instead of lust, she pictured herself watching the game with him and eating cheetos.

JJ nodded passively as Kennedy and Grant left her with Luke, trying to focus on the facts about his life. She kicked herself internally, knowing that he seemed smart and kind, and that she shouldn’t be rude, but she couldn’t get Emily out of her mind. Anyways, JJ wasn’t even sure if she even liked men at all.

As Luke explained his major and minor combo, and how that was going to get him into the FBI some day, JJ’s mind wandered to the thought of running her hands through Emily’s silky black hair.

JJ zoned out, her eyes drifting across the party, wondering where Kennedy, Grant and Jordan had all wandered off to.

As if called, Kennedy walked up with a bottle of jägermeister and some plastic shot glasses. She greeted Luke with a friendly greeting, obviously familiar with the tall lacrosse player.

“Shots?” She asked with a grin. JJ rolled her eyes but couldn’t say no, she was already drunk and the idea of more alcohol sounded like a good idea at the time.

They downed two shots before Kennedy heard a song that she liked playing over the speakers and she headed back onto the dance floor to find her boyfriend, leaving JJ alone with Luke.

A girl caught her eye from across the party, leaning casually on the kitchen counter, sipping something amber coloured out of a glass. JJ recognized her from the bar that they went to on trivia nights, her auburn hair cut in a bob and mischievous eyes were unmistakable. She was the bartender, who JJ had, at one point, caught flirting with Emily.

Now, the girl was making eyes at her.

JJ looked back to Luke, who was asking her about her major, and her plans for the future. She had to admit that she didn’t really know, and that she was keeping her options open.

Distracted by the other girl’s presence, JJ’s eyes kept flicking towards the brunette, tracking her as she walked across the room and right up to JJ.

“Hey there,” the mystery girl said, smiling at JJ and giving Luke a quick wave.

“Hello,” Luke said with a friendly nod.

“I think your friend’s looking for a partner,” the girl said, pointing towards one of Luke’s friends who was waving over at him. He was tall and had an oversized navy and yellow varsity jacket. He, like Luke, seemed familiar from other varsity events that JJ had attended, Simon… or Simmons or something like that.

Before she knew it, Luke was pulled into a beer pong game, giving JJ an apologetic smile and a wave, before leaving her with the brunette.

The taller girl looked her up and down, blatantly checking her out.

“What are you drinking?” she asked, gesturing to JJ’s beer. “An IPA?”

“You got it,” JJ said. “You?”

“Tequila sunrise,” she responded. “I like things sweet.”

JJ found herself blushing, as the girl leaned in to say that. The girl's hair was curled, resting just below her ears on her neck in a playful style. She had impressive liquid eyeliner swooping across her lids and a soft nude lipstick on her lips. JJ’s eyes moved south, taking in her low cut blouse and skin tight jeans.

Her head spun at the sight of her. And at the sheer amount of beer that she had consumed.

The brunette’s face was soft, tanned. Her eyes large, looking down at her with an impish grin. She was lithe and sultry, and smelled like licorice.

“Like what you see?” the stranger said, smirking at JJ’s reddening face. “The name’s Elle, I think I’ve seen you around.”

“Jennifer, but my friends call me JJ,” she said.

“Well. Jennifer, let's see if we can work up to calling you JJ then, shall we?”

Elle drained the last of her drink, placing the glass on a nearby table.

“Want to get out of this dump?” Elle asked.

JJ nodded dumbly, acting without thinking, and followed the girl out of the party, sending Kennedy a quick text as she grabbed her coat.

JJ: took ur advice! see yuo later

Kennedy didn’t respond, as she was too busy chugging beer from a funnel at the time.

The two girls walked outside, and within seconds JJ’s face was between Elle’s hands, pulled into a deep, passionate and incredibly sexy kiss.

JJ acted on autopilot, responding in kind to the other girl’s advances as she pressed JJ up against the brick wall, grinding into her as Elle swiped her tongue against JJ’s.

Despite feeling unsteady, with the two shots of alcohol hitting her hard, JJ’s stomach flopped at the thought of kissing someone who wasn’t Emily. Half of her wanted to race home, knock on Emily’s door, and beg her forgiveness, but the other half was melting into this stranger’s arms.

JJ’s blood raced through her veins, and she could feel the need flash across her mind. She wanted this girl, knowing nothing about her. She was there, and she was touching JJ, and it was all she wanted in that moment.

JJ was also very drunk. Drunker than she had been in a long time. The world spun slightly, and she felt warm despite the frosty air.

When Elle pulled back, JJ’s lips were swollen and she was desperate for more.

“Your place or mine?” Elle asked.

———

They tumbled into Elle’s room, hands tugging at clothing and lips connected the entire time. JJ kicked off her shoes and fiddled with her belt, trying to remove obstacles early on in the process.

Soon Elle was standing in front of her wearing only a pair of jeans and a lacy black bra, the sight of which made JJ acutely aware of the wetness that was pooling between her legs.

“Take this off,” Elle commanded, tugging on the v-neck blue shirt that JJ had worn, not knowing when she was picking out her outfit that she would actually be going home with someone.

JJ obeyed, pulling it over her head, revealing a grey sports bra with a white stretchy band that wrapped around her ribcage. Elle pulled her in for another kiss, her mouth demanding and insistent.

As they kissed, Elle’s deft hands undid the button on her jeans, and pulled down the zipper on her fly. JJ then shimmied her jeans off, leaving her in her underwear as she watched Elle do the same.

Somehow the other girls movements were elegant and intentional, making the awkward motion of stripping look hot.

“Bed,” Elle said, guiding JJ onto the edge of her own bed and straddling her.

Elle lived off campus, in a fairly average apartment. Her room was neat, with only scattered books and a bit of laundry on the ground in the corner. Her bed was soft, but squeaked with their motion. JJ hoped Elle didn’t have any roommates.

JJ held onto her thighs as Elle kissed down her jaw, before moving her lips to JJ’s pulse point and down her neck. Elle sucked on the soft skin above her collar bone, evoking a surprised moan from JJ.

Her breathing grew heavy as Elle sucked on her neck and buried her hands in her hair. JJ gripped the brunette's thighs even tighter, before running her arms up and down her spine, tracing the feeling of a woman’s body, almost naked against hers.

It was a different feeling, having a girl's breast pressed up against hers. The softness of Elle’s face was so different from the roughness of any man's.

As JJ was lost in thought, an almost tentative hand fiddled with the back of her sports bra. No, not tentative, there was nothing about Elle that was tentative. It was a question, asking for consent to strip JJ’s final layer off. JJ nodded and before she knew it, Elle was pulling the garment smoothly off of her head.

Elle’s lips went lower, her tongue dragging across the small swell of JJ’s breast and swirled around her nipple. JJ gasped and clenched her thighs at the sensation, squeezing her eyes shut in pleasure.

“You’re such a pretty thing,” Elle whispered at her.

JJ opened her eyes as Elle sucked on her nipple, eliciting a quiet, oh , in surprise. She could feel Elle smiling, a devilish grin of a girl who knew exactly what she was doing.

Then, she stopped and grinned at her. JJ stared, slack jaw, back at her as her head spun with alcohol and lust.

Elle patted her thigh, an instruction to get further on the bed, JJ did so, moving up onto it. Elle carefully placed herself on top of JJ, propping herself up by her elbows as she resumed their kiss.

JJ reached around to Elle’s back, deciding to undo her bra and level the playing field, but she fumbled with the clasp. A blush went to her cheeks as she struggled with the fastener, tugging at it frantically.

“First time?” Elle asked her, grinning wolfishly down at her.

JJ couldn't lie, so she just nodded before adding: “With a girl at least.”

“Don’t worry,” Elle whispered. “I’ll show you the ropes.”

She sat on her haunches and one handedly took off her own bra, flinging it somewhere off the bed and staring down at JJ.

JJ panted as she took all of Elle in, her big eyes, parted lips. Her long neck and graceful swoop of her collar bones. Her round breasts and tanned skin before her.

A pair of black panties hid the last of Elle from JJ, hugging her hips and teasing her of what lay beneath.

Elle pulled JJ onto herself, guiding her down with confident hands on JJ’s thighs. They resumed their kiss, now breathy and frantic, their lips crashed together in open mouthed kisses, both girls desperate to get closer.

Elle’s hand grazed her hip, trailing along her thigh and coming to rest between JJ’s legs. JJ’s hips bucked into the touch, grinding down onto Elle’s hand.

“Someone’s excited,” Elle noted between kisses.

Elle flipped both of them over, carefully holding JJ’s hip in one hand and head with the other and JJ crashed into the mattress with a gasp. Elle’s thigh fell between hers, making contact with JJ’s sensitive core.

The brunette kissed her deeply, pushing their bodies together and moving her hips, allowing her thigh to grind against JJ.

The friction sent JJ’s mind buzzing, as she was desperate for more contact.

“What do you say Jennifer,” Elle whispered in her ear, “Can I take these off of you?”

JJ nodded desperately, as the sound of Elle’s breath right into her ear sent tingles down her spine.

Elle kissed along JJ’s neck, placing a trail of open-mouth kisses down her chest and stomach, before coming to rest between JJ’s legs.

JJ felt herself tensing up, nervous about what she knew would come next.

As if sensing JJ’s hesitation, Elle placed her hand on JJ’s stomach, looking in her eyes with a look that said: relax.

JJ acquiesced, forcing her muscles to relax. Elle wrapped her arms around and under JJ’s legs, spreading them apart and holding them lightly. She then pressed her face into JJ’s left thigh, kissing it in a way that was incredibly arousing.

JJ gasped, jerking her leg away at the ticklish sensation, only to be held in place by Elle’s calm arm around her thigh. Elle kissed up JJ’s thigh, sucking onto her pale flesh hard enough to leave marks.

JJ felt herself clenching, as the combinations of sensations and the visual of Elle between her legs was almost too much. She gasped and panted, breathing heavy as all of her nerves were on fire.

The blonde gripped the sheets, on the verge of begging Elle to just fuck her already , but she couldn’t, she didn’t want that. All of this, all that was leading up to it, was on the cusp of sending her over the edge and she hadn’t even been touched where she needed to yet.

Elle hovered over JJ’s black panties, her breath coming in pants as she looked up at JJ, her brown eyes almost black in the dim light. Her hot breath made JJ strain forward, but Elle’s hands held her hips flat to the bed.

“Pl– please,” JJ whimpered.

At her word, Elle tugged on JJ’s panties, allowing the blonde to lift her hips up as Elle tugged them down and off.

Now, there was nothing between Elle and JJ.

The distance was soon closed and Elle greeted her with a long swipe up the centre, then a swirl over JJ’s clit. She almost yelled at the contact, as JJ’s head spun at the sensation of Elle’s mouth on her.

“You’re so wet for me,” Elle cooed. JJ nodded desperate for her to stop talking and start eating her out.

And Elle did. And she did it well.

Elle’s tongue danced across JJ, masterfully seeking out the places that made JJ gasp and moan. She was responsive to each noise that JJ made, and showed her clean talent at bringing another woman pleasure. JJ let go, focusing only on the feelings that Elle was evoking and the way she looked up at her as if checking in.

After a moment, JJ reached down. She entwined her one hand in Elle’s hair, guiding her up to her clit, desperate for more contact.

Before this, JJ always thought of oral as a step that she had to get through. It was always sloppy, unsatisfying, nowhere near the feelings she could get with her own hands or with a vibrator.

But now, as Elle sucked on her clit and moved her tongue across her, JJ didn’t want it to end. Unlike with herself, each moment was unexpected yet still welcome, as Elle moved around, constantly finding new ways to make JJ writhe on the bed.

Then, when JJ thought she wouldn’t ever feel better than she had, Elle’s right hand moved, and her fingers teased at JJ’s entrance. Elle looked up, checking that it was alright, JJ nodded desperately in response.

Elle entered her easily with two fingers. They glided into her with no resistance and JJ thought she might come just at the feeling of fullness in combination with Elle’s tongue flicking at her.

Starting a steady motion that complemented her tongue moving up and down, Elle’s fingers moved in and out of JJ, slowly, almost too slowly.

As JJ’s breath came heavier, Elle picked up speed, sucking at JJ’s clit and thrusting at an impressive speed. JJ’s hand held onto Elle’s hair for dear life.

As JJ babbled incoherently, begging Elle to keep going, keep going, keep going, suddenly she could picture Emily on top of her, Emily between her legs and Emily making her see stars.

JJ came saying Emily’s name. The sensation rolled through her, making her toes curl as she shut her eyes against the feeling. JJ’s lips parted and her body shivered as the orgasm took her.

She could hear Elle chuckle, but the noise was not enough to break the waves of pleasure that wracked through her body. The brunette didn’t stop her movements, rubbing her fingers down inside JJ as she rode out her orgasm. Nor did she stop sucking on JJ’s clit, as she had her lips wrapped around it, with her tongue rubbing against the centre.

Without a moment to breathe, JJ suddenly felt a second orgasm coming, building up in her gut and coming as a second wave that washed over her before she even knew it.

It hit her with less force than the first, but still powerful enough to send her twitching and shuddering. Elle pulled back, allowing JJ to ride her fingers at her own pace.

After a few moments of gasping and panting, JJ opened her eyes to find Elle wiping her hand on a towel and grinning down at her.

“Wow,” JJ managed, dazed at the feeling of elation that made her skin buzz.

Elle flopped beside her, reaching over JJ’s prone form towards a plastic reusable water bottle. She unscrewed the cap before offering some to JJ. She took it eagerly, spent and dehydrated from all of the beer.

“Good?” Elle asked, taking the water then having a sip for herself.

JJ nodded dumbly, feeling doubly out of it from the alcohol and the sex.

Elle placed the bottle back down on the desk, then laid down on the bed, facing JJ.

“Who’s Emily?” she asked, way more casually than the question should entail.

JJ’s face lit up in an even deeper blush than she was already sporting, mortified at the question and the memory of her calling out another girl's name while she was in bed with Elle.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Elle said, “But I don’t do cheating, if that’s what this is.”

“We’re not-” JJ said, stuttering. We’re not what? We’re not anything, yet, she thought. I broke it off before we could be anything. “I’m single, don’t worry.”

“Is she someone you want?” Elle asked.

JJ nodded, unsure of where this line of questioning would lead.

“Well, you have a lot to learn then,” Elle mused, “if you’re going to ever please this girl.”

JJ stared at her.

“From where I’m sitting,” Elle said, “you’ve gone home with some girl—me—to forget about this Emily girl, am I right?”

JJ nodded.

“But this is also your first time with a girl. So I’m sensing there’s some sort of combination of a will-they-won't-they situation and a sexuality crisis at play. Hence you have something to learn from me.”

“That’s not-”

“Yes it is,” Elle interrupted. “I don’t mind, don’t worry. I’ll show you some of the tricks up my sleeve and this Emily girl will have me to thank.”

JJ stuttered at Elle’s bold words, but didn’t have a single coherent thought to counter the brunette’s argument. She did want Emily. That was all she thought about. It was all so complicated, but here, with Elle, it was so simple. There were no feelings, no friendships, no bridges to burn, just sex.

“So, are you ready to learn?” Elle said, a daring look in her eye as her finger trailed along JJ’s stomach.

JJ nodded.

“Come on then.”

She obeyed, climbing onto Elle and kissing her deeply before moving lower, her hand creeping down to graze the brunette’s thigh.

“Don’t worry,” Elle said, “I’ll guide you through it.”

———

JJ woke up that morning to a splitting headache and a stomach that gave her the feeling that her bed was a ship lost at sea, tilting under the force of the ocean, making her nothing but seasick. But, she wasn’t in a boat, she was in a bed, and she was not in her own.

She squinted against the daylight, cracking open her eyes and blinking hard. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, holding her head steady as the headache throbbed and left her disoriented.

The large bay window was not hers, and the sleeping girl next to her was unfamiliar. But, the first thought in JJ’s mind was not either of these facts, it was the question of where the bathroom was, because she was about to yak.

JJ tried to stand, but the room was spinning so she braced herself with the desk that was right next to the bed, and she stumbled across the room, into the hall, where she saw the bathroom.

Not bothering to close the door behind her, JJ knelt and puked into the toilet. Some of the drinks from the night before came up, the bile feeling like fire in her throat and mouth. She heaved into the toilet, her eyes stinging with tears as she was forced to reckon with the sheer amount of alcohol that she had consumed at the party.

When her stomach had finally settled, JJ curled up on the floor, as the tears spilled down her cheeks.

She could barely remember the majority of the night before, but from what she could remember, it didn’t paint her in a very good light.

She had fucked someone else, and whoever this girl was, JJ could remember snippets of the evening and knew she had royally messed up.

Elle stood in the doorway with a glass of water, knocking lightly on the doorframe to announce her presence. JJ blinked up at her, mortified by her current predicament.

“Don’t tell me I got you pregnant,” Elle quipped, squatting and holding out the glass to JJ, who laughed half-heartedly and took it. JJ was relieved that at least she remembered the brunette’s name, that was a good sign.

Sipping the water, she swished it around in her mouth before spitting it out in the toilet. She then took another sip, swallowing it and relishing the cool feeling in her throat, mentally begging her body not to throw it up.

“You ok?” Elle asked, standing up.

JJ shrugged.

“Probably should have said no to that last beer,” JJ said hoarsely. “I should go.”

JJ stood, her legs feeling shaky and the world still feeling like it was spinning slightly. She was still mostly naked, only wearing her underwear and an unfamiliar t-shirt, which was presumably Elle’s.

Bright red blotches were visible above the fabric, gracing her collarbones and the right side of her neck with an array of hickies. JJ gasped and prodded at them, shocked at the angry red that was bright against her pale skin.

Her hair was a mess; the once-perfect blonde waves were mussed and tangled. There were large bags under her eyes and a wild look in her eyes.

The realization of what she had done sent another urgent feeling of nausea through her. She hurriedly rejected Elle’s offers of coffee, or breakfast, and raced out of her apartment building.

———

After a chilly walk through the student village, under the bright grey November light, JJ stumbled back to residence. She was wearing only the outfit she had worn out which didn’t do much against the cool fall breeze than it had last night with the warm buzz of alcohol in her system.

JJ stared at the ground her entire walk home, mortified with her leather jacket, high heeled boots, and low cut shirt. She was clearly on a walk of shame that Sunday morning.

Her outfit also did absolutely nothing to hide the bright red marks that crept up her neck. She had been too drunk to think about the consequences of letting Elle suck on her skin, and now had to face the consequences.

You’re ok, she said to herself. All you have to do is make it to your room. You have some concealer there, and turtlenecks. If you make it there you’re safe, no one will know.

She hurried up the stairs, unlocking the door to the second floor and speeding down the hall. She thanked god that her hair was long enough, so when she passed some people in the hall, she just lowered her head and looked away, hoping that no one looked at her too closely.

JJ was lucky that even though she had made a lot of mistakes that night, she still had her keys and her phone. She had her lanyard around her neck, ready to unlock her door, and there she would be home free.

Just as she reached her room, having to stop herself from sprinting down the hall, the door across the hall opened. JJ tensed up, key still in the lock, knowing exactly who was there.

She turned, forgetting about the marks on her neck, and looked at a steel-faced Emily Prentiss, looking at her with a blank expression in her eyes.

She was dressed for the day, wearing dark jeans, a baggy hoodie, and cordless headphones in her ears.

“Hello,” she said cooly, the simple word sending hurt into JJ’s gut.

“Hey,” JJ said, it sounded more like a croak than a word.

Emily’s eyes flicked down to her neck, widening at the sight. JJ gulped, realizing that Emily knew exactly what JJ had done the night before, the evidence clear all over her.

“I gotta go,” Emily said tersely, “I’m going to be late.”

And with that, Emily marched down the hall, without another word to JJ.

JJ unlocked her door, pushed it open, then her legs gave way and she fell in a puddle of her own tears, sobs wracking her whole body.

“JJ, what’s wrong?!” Penelope gasped, leaping up from her office chair and kneeling down in front of JJ.

She couldn’t make a sound, her embarrassment and anger at herself manifesting in angry sobs. Penelope wrapped her arms around JJ and allowed her to cry, patting her hair and holding her close.

“I’m so sorry,” JJ managed, knowing the person she was really apologizing to couldn’t hear her.

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